by A M Russell
We were back in the vehicle, checking oxygen links. We found our torches. It had been such a long time since we needed the suits that I felt quite constricted in mine. I knew the feeling would be quite a different one in an hour or so; if we made it on to the underground train. I can’t say I was really relishing the thought. But to get back to the buggy, and thence to the ice lake camp meant we had to take the risk. To go the long way round could take days. This place was not near the mineral lakes and the soft bio phosphorescent draperies of vegetation. It felt so forgotten, so dark, and lonely. I started to think of Jared then as we set off again. We were on a road at night, and heading to a foreign port with no real plan on how to hitch a lift on this train of theirs. We had been assured that there were no actual security barriers as such, but I had no doubt that they were not far behind us. Aiden had given Oliver the start-up sequence for the train. I had visions of something from the London underground. But when we finally parked in a quiet little spot just above the train tracks; it seemed more like a silver cigar case with slits along the edge. Tiny lights punctuated a vast lonely cave. We had stopped near to the power cables. I heard a faint electrical hum.
‘We better take a good look first.’ Oliver had out a pair of night view binoculars. He scanned carefully from a little rough rocky edge near a sheer drop. He gingerly picked his way back.
‘We’ll leave the car here. I’ll make sure I disable the ignition though.’ He looked at me with that serious face that Jared sometimes used on me. ‘You really are trouble aren’t you Milnes?’
‘Yes. I’m trouble…. I promise not to be too crazy next time we’re in a tight spot.’
‘No… You just be crazy. Crazy is good. Crazy keeps us Alive Milnes.’
‘Maybe you should try to stay in one piece.’ added Jules, and tightened the straps on the backpack. He tightened mine for me too. I winced.
‘Too much?’
‘No. It’s fine… right. Where to now?’
We picked a route round and then down. That brought behind some low huts. I could hear music.
‘Mozart?’ whispered Jules.
‘It’s six now.’ mouthed Oliver softly, ‘This way.’
We slid carefully between two sheds. The sound of music got louder. There was a window with a light on. We ducked underneath it and continued to skirt our way in the long shadows. I never did like deserted railway stations. This felt like a monster that would stir at any minute. We crept up to the nose of the train. There was nobody watching us.
Oliver found the panel. He pressed into it. A faintly illuminated keypad was visible.
Oliver tapped in the sequence the door slid silently back. We piled in. the sound was immediately deadened as the door slid back into place. Oliver got down on the carpet in this tight little cab, and prised open the panel.
‘What are you doing?’ Jules spoke softly.
‘Watch the door to the cabin behind. I’m disabling the cabin lights I hope.’ He reached to the control desk above and pressed something firmly. A faint humming was heard the lights all flickered on in the cabin behind us.
‘They're on!’ said Jules
Oliver hit the panel again; ‘Not that fuse.’ He said followed by something in Welsh that ended in a sigh.
‘They are coming.’ said Jules, as we watched the dark cabins.
‘There; that should do it!’
The vibration and strong hum of the engine could be heard. This time no lights came on.
‘Opps! I think they’ve twigged it Reece!’ Jules felt around for the internal door lock. He popped open the driver’s cabin and found the panel that operated all the doors down the train.
‘What’s that?’ I could see a red lever.
‘Not that,’ said Jules, ‘Oh shit!’
Men were streaming out of the hut and lights were popping into life outside of the train.
‘Oliver! Now would be good!’ I yelled.
Just then we began to move I hear d the locks clicking and clunking all down the train.
‘Someone’s on the train.’ said Oliver.
‘What?’ I couldn’t get an eye line down the aisle.
‘There’s a light flashing here.’ he said, 'Sixth set of doors. They are still open.'
We began to pick up speed, and whoosh into the night.
There was a draft coming from somewhere; it was cold.
‘We need the lights on.’ said Jules, ‘Someone’s here.’
I got down on the floor. I could feel the rocking of the train, as we picked up speed even more. Light flickered past through the windows from overhead cables. Oliver passed me his torch. I could see two fuse cases hanging loose on flexible strands. It was ready difficult to get a grip on the thing and hold the torch at the same time.
One in; I gripped the torch in my teeth stabbed the other in really hard and scrambled to my feet.
The cracking recoil of sound deafened me for a moment. Two shots in quick succession. One split the door frame above our heads. Oliver and I instinctively ducked. There was a lot of commotion and shouting. Some if it didn’t make the least bit of sense. Like a foreign language I didn’t understand.
Jules jumped to side as yet another shot sent a glob of upholstery off to the side, spraying the stuffing over the centre aisle.
‘Nestor! Come! Wading in! No light Nestor….’
‘Jules… Out of the way!’ I had the rifle in my hand then. I was aiming at them. But we were all thrown to the side. We seemed to be going excessively fast. If this guy didn’t kill me, the motion sickness probably would.
The other behind the first had a knife. Very long; very nasty. Their eyes were strange. And their clothes were all wrong for this place as if they had stepped out of a movie show from the nineteen forties.
‘Come on!’ he aimed the pistol at Jules. ‘Nestor says time to die!’
Jules instinctively raised his hands in front of him.
I had a clear shot. But for some reason I hesitated. The pain maybe… or that I could not do this. Then three things happened at once. The whole train lurched again. The man with the knife jumped up over the seat towards Jules. Simultaneously the crack of a rifle exploded in my mind and I pitched forward. The knife man had Jules in a grip that he was desperately trying to get out of. I hadn’t fired yet. He had the knife at Jules’ throat. I was on the floor. Almost under them as they struggled. I pulled the trigger. The sound hit the inside of my mind like drumsticks on a wooden window sill, wielded by an angry teenager.
Oliver stood with the other rifle above me. I saw the faint resonance of heat against the cooler air of the cab. In front of me the man with the gun was contorted in a hideous grimace of hate. His gun was pointing straight at my heart; but unfired. Oliver stepped over me and pulled it from his hand.
Jules pushed the other corpse away from him, and sat back in the seat, white-faced.
‘Get up Davey.’ said Oliver, ‘Jules. Help me get them off the train.’
Between them, Jules and Oliver dragged them back two carriages. The door was sliding backwards and forwards in the recess. Oliver went through the pockets of the two creeps. My ears were still ringing from the shot. We reached a steep turn. As the train banked on a corner, out they went. The gun and the knife went too.
I slowly came to the third carriage.
‘Anomaly.’ said Oliver, ‘It’s getting into everything.’
‘Who is Nestor?’
‘It’s backwards.’ said Jules, ‘ “Rot sen”… get it?’
‘No.’ my brain was busy trying to put off processing what I’d just done.
‘We are going too fast.’ Oliver said, ‘you two get the door shut.’
Oliver went forward as we pulled and heaved the thing to. It kept springing back.
‘What wrong with it?’ asked Jules.
‘Too much micro circuitry?’ I hit the panel next to it with the butt of my gun. I pulled out the wires. ‘Cutters. That pocket.’ Jules handed it to me. My arm was hurting like hell; but the
frigid air coming from the dark gap inspired haste. I severed the line. We shoved the door really firmly this time, and the mechanical lock sprang shut.
‘They must have used a transmitter. We better check the seats and the floor make sure nothing has been dropped.'
We worked our way back along the carriages, checking under the seats as we went. Nothing else there. We reached the first carriage again. Jules went forward to tell Oliver it was done. He came back a moment later. I stood there leaning on the top of the nearest seat.
'Okay?' I asked.
‘Yeah; so can we please wash our hands and have something to eat.’ said Jules.
‘What?’ I felt sick. ‘I just…. I did it… that… that thing..’
‘You killed him,’ Jules said, ‘and I owe you my life. Just think what the outcome would be if you hadn’t done it.’
‘I can’t think about it. I really want to puke.’
‘Quick, in there.’
There was a well-lit luxury washroom in this train. I felt much better a few moments later. The shock had already begun to fade from my mind. And I realised I felt a bit hungry too. Absurd I told myself. But here it is. Poor Jules! The last time he ate it was drugged. He must be hollow by now.
I went to Oliver. ‘Thanks for what you did.’ I said.
‘That’s fine. Just what was necessary.’
‘Jules has found the dining car on this silver bullet train. Do you want to eat?’
‘Yeah. Make me a sandwich. And a cold drink… if he can find it. Follow that with coffee.’
‘How long to the end of the line?’
‘About two hours. We can relax for a little while. But I’ll stay up here. Is the heating kicking in?’
‘I think so. Thermometer has climbed a little.’
I sat opposite Jules. We had forgone the more exotic food in the dining car's refrigerated store, and gone instead for cheese and pickle sandwiches and a chunk of pork pie each. The whole kitchen looked like it had been gearing up for a royal visit. There were tubs of stuff I didn't even recognise, as well as things like olives and sundried tomatoes. Also curiously, a lot of booze. We passed on that too. I took Oliver a bottle of Dandelion and Burdock which I knew he liked, we were drinking lemonade.
'Reminds me of a teddy bears picnic.' said Jules with his mouth full of sandwich.
'Do you remember what happened when you were ambushed?'
'Straight to the point. Yes.... Every little bit. Except the being knocked out part, obviously.'
'Is Hanson Mad?'
'Question and a half! Ok Davey. I suppose I get to confess my sins to someone. Might as well be you. Hanson was a friend of mine a long time ago. He was an egotist then as well,' he chewed, swallowed and took a swig. He continued, 'That name they called me. That was from Hanson. He used to do that in his student days. Gave everyone names. Like a compliment in a way. You were in his club as it were...'
'So you're "Nestor"?'
'Yeah! It's a corruption of "Rosen" backwards. "Rot-sen" he called me until someone twisted it round. Nestor sounds odd, but not as insulting.'
'So you are not "Alexander" then?'
'Of course I am.... Don't you get it? The tags sometimes don't have last names. There seems to be no consistency...'
We lapsed into silence for a few minutes, munching gratefully on this simple fare. It seemed just wrong that the tags should be so haphazardly ID'd, when all this was so slick and well-rehearsed. It had to do with the anomaly. That girl Sarah, she said her last name wasn't on her tag. They perhaps realised later that the only way people would not forget who they were... Unless their friends told them, was to put the full name on. It was weird, but something else sprang from this. As much as they needed to identify individuals there was something else that they never mentioned.
'When is your birthday?'
'In the summer. Why? Do you want to get me a present?'
'No. The exact date.'
'Well that easy.... It's.... Erm...' he stared at me with shock.
'That's it!'
'What is it?' Jules seemed quite alarmed.
'Lots of things. The removal of personal effects. The tag codes that no one can recall. Marcia said that there was something that no one ever tells because they didn't think it was a secret.'
'Your own birthday. But girls don't tell you that stuff anyway. Unless you get to know them really well.' Jules seemed to be calmer again, 'there has to be a reason why we can't remember that one piece of information.'
'Marcia must have done...' I said, 'she unlocked the tag that Jared was smuggling to Aiden. Oh no hang on... But that wasn't her tag.... ' I felt annoyed with the puzzle of it. I touched the ring with my thumb then, thinking how everything was here, with me. We had all the answers. We just needed to get outside, back to the real world.
Jules was staring upwards. I'd seen that look before. Janey and Curly both did that too. It must be a genius scientist thing. I usually shut my eyes. Or put my head in my hands. I did that at work, trying to block out the view if the Dragon trees and other indoor plants that festooned the office workspaces.
'Ok.' said Jules, 'Given that we don't know the exact date. Perhaps we can work it out.'
'How?' I stuffed the last bit of sandwich in my mouth, they were so good, 'another? And coffee.'
'Not for me.' Jules looked tired, 'it just slows me down.'
'Alright.' he'd got a point, 'Just coffee it is then.'
I came back to find Jules drawing on a pad. He looked up at me. ‘I know it was on a Saturday. I had a great day. I was with some family at a restaurant. I had a drink. I mean a proper drink!’ he scribbled some more on the paper. I sat down, and pushed the coffee towards him.
‘It’s no use,’ he said a few minutes later, ‘I can’t hang onto any of it. This year… last year. I just haven’t a clue.’ He turned to me, eyes wide; and that curious faraway look that I had seen in the eyes of the girl Sarah. The something that could not be caught; a thought so fleeting. The dream that explains the whole meaning of your existence yet fades as you wake. The more you try to see, the more it slips away.
Jules laid his head down on the table, arms folded under his chin. He stared unseeing. His eyes had drawn beneath dark shadows, and skin as pale as cream bond.
I watched as another tiny light flickered past our night time world. The seats hear were comfortable. I let my eyes flutter and shut for a moment. The rocking movement of the train became relaxing. I was not in danger for maybe half an hour for definite. Just a little while….. A few minutes at least….
She was there; a figure in white. I was on a beach. But the sand was white; and there were dark clouds forming at the horizon. I couldn’t quite reach her. She was walking away from me down the beach. I turned and looked to my right. There was something glowing, half buried in the sand…. I picked it up. A pebble; it was warm in my hand. The tide was coming in; the waves nearer to me on this thin little sliver of sand. She had rounded a small headland, and was walking in the sunlight. I stood in shadow with the salt water lapping round my feet. It felt cool. The rest of me felt very warm… I tried to call to her. No sound… but I heard birds calling. They were high up circling the thermals above the headland. The end of a summer day. She was a tiny figure in the distance; walking away. I had no way to follow. Why did she walk away?
Then my friends were there leaning over the rail, saying “what are you doing getting all wet?” and “Come back up here!”; “Join us at the café Davey, there’s tea to warm you through.” or “You need to dry off! What are you doing anyway?” They were so jolly and full of life, I wanted to join them; I wanted their jokes and cheery company. I looked again and I couldn’t see her. She was lost in the patterns of rocks way down the coastline. I had the water swirling round me; I wanted to weep in the dream. But all I felt was sharp pain instead….
Jolted, I breathed in…. nothing had changed. Jules seemed to be dozing too. The whooshing of the train and faint rocking continued. I checked the time
. Seven-thirty. I could barely move but somehow managed to get out of the seat and forward to speak to Oliver.
‘Hi there. Nothing to report Captain!’ he seemed in a lot better mood.
‘You’re one of those geeks who always wanted to drive a train aren’t you?’
‘You bet I am.’ He slid a dial round and checked another, ‘We’ll be getting near to the end of the line in about twenty minutes. I’ll take a quick break. We need to kit up completely.’
‘How is it outside?’
‘Dark.’ He said and frowned, ‘the temperature is variable. As if we’re hitting patches of different air flows.’ He looked at me; ‘do you need any more meds yet.’
‘No. I’m good.’ I lied.
‘You’re not anything like a good enough.’ said Oliver, ‘I’ll come to you in five minutes. Let me take a quick look at it.’
We were all awake and nearly ready to go. Oliver pulled my right arm out of the suit and examined it. ‘Good field dressing. But it won’t last long enough.’
He spent five minutes patching it up really well. It was bound up like a turkey at Christmas.
‘What about pain killers.’ asked Jules.
‘Two paracetamol only.’ Oliver said, ‘cruel but necessary. This is going to be tricky.’
He went forward then to do something with the controls. Jules helped me. I tried hard to not groan. ‘He’s serious?’ Jules looked resigned.
‘I’m afraid so.’ We got my suit fastenings done, and were fitting the neckpiece and getting the mask and hood ready. Jules tucked everything down and tied some lacing round it all so it wouldn’t move about. We had to be able to move our heads freely to get off the train. Jules handed me the woollen cap.
‘Ready?’
‘Just about.’
Jules punched out the panel on this side of the train. This time we slit all the wires through. The door was then only held shut by a mechanical lock. From the emergency panel above we found the steel pin. It pushed into a slot. Under normal circumstances it would spring the mechanical bolt. But we would have to wallop it with something hard as we would still be moving at the time.