Kidnap on the California Comet Page 2

  Woody cleared his throat loudly.

  ‘Bah, oui!’ Marianne snapped, rolling her eyes at Woody. ‘I must go. Maybe I will see you on the train.’ She leaned forward, kissing the air in front of his cheeks. On the second kiss, she whispered, ‘I’ll escape the ogre and come find you. Perhaps we can draw?’ She stepped back, waved her fingertips, and allowed Woody to shepherd her into the Silver Scout.

  Dumbfounded, Hal stared at the carriage door. It was the most baffling encounter he’d ever had with a girl. He wished his friend Lenny were with him. She’d be able to explain what had just happened.

  ‘Have you finished your drawing?’ Uncle Nat was striding towards him. ‘We should find our carriage.’

  Hal nodded and followed his uncle along the platform. The double-decker carriages were the same silver as the Rezas’ railcar but dented and scuffed. Between the windows of the top and bottom floors was a blue band, topped by a thin redand-white stripe.

  ‘This is us.’ Uncle Nat pointed. ‘Carriage 540.’

  Stepping inside, they were met by a woman in a dark-blue uniform with curly brown hair. ‘Y’all travelling with us today?’

  ‘Indeed we are,’ Uncle Nat replied.

  ‘Well, good! Your tickets, please, sir.’ The woman beamed as she examined them. ‘You’re in the right place. I’m Francine, your steward. You gentlemen are in roomette ten. I’ll show you up.’ She led them past a luggage rack and up a slender flight of stairs.

  ‘We’re on the top floor!’ Hal exclaimed.

  ‘Sure are.’ Francine smiled at him over her shoulder.

  On either side of the upper corridor were sliding doors through which Hal could see tiny compartments, each containing two big blue seats facing one another.

  ‘You’ll be right here.’ Francine stood aside to let them in. ‘Get yourselves comfortable, and I’ll be back to see about your dinner reservations. Anything you need, call out my name.’

  ‘Home, sweet home.’ Uncle Nat sighed happily. He slid the door shut and dropped his leather holdall on to one of the big blue seats.

  Hal clambered on to the other one, pulling at handles and flicking switches, eager to discover the secrets of the roomette. It was snug, but the seats were wide and they had enough room. ‘This is cool.’ A table marked with a chessboard folded out from beneath the window. ‘Do you think Francine has pieces?’

  ‘Probably.’ Uncle Nat pointed to the plug socket. ‘Look! You’ll be able to charge your games console.’

  ‘I didn’t bring it.’

  ‘Really?’ Uncle Nat looked surprised.

  ‘I didn’t want to miss anything.’ Hal felt his face grow hot. ‘If I’m gaming, I might not notice an adventure, you know, if one happens.’

  ‘I am glad,’ Uncle Nat said. ‘Though it’s unlikely we’ll encounter another adventure quite like the last one.’

  ‘It doesn’t hurt to be alert though, does it?’ Hal thought about Marianne Reza and her muscle-bound bodyguard, wondering if she would escape and come looking for him.

  ‘No,’ Uncle Nat said, taking off his glasses, cleaning them with the bottom of his jumper and putting them back on. ‘And an adventure doesn’t always have to involve a crime.’

  ‘The exciting ones do.’

  Uncle Nat laughed. ‘You’ll end up being a railway detective when you grow up.’

  Hal thought that wouldn’t be a bad job. He pointed to a panel above the window. ‘If the top bunk is up there, where’s the other one?’

  ‘You’re sitting on it.’ Uncle Nat fiddled with a catch near the floor and, with a jolt, Hal’s chair slid forward, becoming flat as it met the opposite seat. ‘Nice!’

  Uncle Nat sat down beside Hal. ‘Through that window you’ll get to see the wonders of America. It’s an incredible place.’

  ‘I thought it would be like England, but it isn’t, is it? Everything is extra, here. The roads are wider; the cars are bigger; even the food portions are huge.’ Hal paused, momentarily overcome by the scale of America. ‘It makes me feel small.’

  ‘You’ll get used to it. And then when you go home, you’ll think everything in Crewe is tiny.’ Uncle Nat looked at him over his glasses. ‘Travelling changes you. Marvelling at new places is an important part of that. It makes you think about different ways of living.’

  He pulled his journal and pencil case from his bag and placed it in a nook beside the chair. ‘This can be my seat.’ Pulling back his sleeve, he looked at one of the three watches on his left wrist. At first, Hal had thought it odd that his uncle wore six watches – they told the time in London, New York, Tokyo, Berlin, Sydney and Moscow – but each was a souvenir from his travels, and Uncle Nat had explained that he liked to be aware of the rest of the world, wherever he was. ‘We’ve just enough time to stroll up the platform and see the locomotive, if you’d like?’

  ‘Let’s do it.’ Hal jumped to his feet and opened the door. He found himself staring at a woman with shiny lips and thick caramel-coloured hair pulled up into a topknot. She was wearing a black leather jacket, grey sweater and jeans. She glared at him. ‘Oh! Hello.’

  ‘You must be our neighbour,’ Uncle Nat said, smiling. ‘I’m Nathaniel Bradshaw, and this is Harrison.’

  ‘Vanessa Rodriguez,’ she replied, dropping her heavy bag into the roomette opposite with a thunk! Stepping in, she slid the door shut and drew the blue curtain across the window.

  ‘I’m guessing she doesn’t want to be disturbed,’ Uncle Nat whispered. ‘Let’s go.’

  Jumping down the stairs and jogging along the platform, they passed the single-storey baggage car, where cases were being loaded from a forklift truck. As they approached the front of the train, the rumble of engines grew to a roar that made Hal’s ribs vibrate. The air stank of diesel.

  Two blue-and-silver locomotives growled in the shadows of the underground station, their vents thrumming with exhaust. Each was the size of an articulated lorry and had a face – a pair of shadow-filled windscreens above two blazing pairs of circular headlights.

  ‘They’re not as friendly-looking as steam engines!’ Hal had to shout so Uncle Nat could hear him above the noise.

  ‘Diesel-electric,’ Uncle Nat called back, nodding. ‘Genesis class. There’s a power plant in her belly with twice as much horsepower as an A4 Pacific.’ He gazed at the engines. ‘Magnificent!’

  ‘Why are there two?’

  ‘They have to drag this very heavy train up the Rocky Mountains.’ Uncle Nat waved at the carriages. ‘If there were only one engine, and it failed, we’d be in trouble.’

  Hal stared at the leading locomotive. It glowered back at him. He slipped his hand into his pocket and realized his sketchbook was back in the roomette, so he studied the engine’s shapes, hoping to draw it from memory.

  Uncle Nat touched Hal’s arm and pointed. The luggage car doors were being shut and empty baggage trailers driven away. ‘Time to go.’

  Walking back, Hal saw Francine leaning out the door, flapping her hands at them to hurry. They broke into a run, and she laughed as they scrambled aboard. ‘I wouldn’t have let them leave without you!’ she said, as the carriage door shut behind them.

  Tumbling into their roomette, Hal and Nat dropped into their seats just as the concrete pillars of Union Station slid past the window.

  ‘What’s this?’ Uncle Nat leaned down, picking up an envelope from the floor. He pulled out a card and drew in a delighted breath. ‘Hal! It’s a message from August Reza. We’ve been invited to visit him in the Silver Scout!’

  CHAPTER THREE

  REZA’S EDGE

  Daylight flooded the roomette as the California Comet pulled out of the station. The window scene of Chicago skyscrapers became concrete highways, then widely spaced houses, then stunning autumn trees with leaves of burnished gold and fading magenta.

  ‘It’s an hour from Naperville to Princeton,’ Uncle Nat said gleefully, slipping a notepad and pen into his jacket pocket. ‘Plenty of time to explore the railcar – and
quiz August Reza before tonight’s press conference.’

  ‘Can’t we go now?’ Hal was eager to see the inside of the Silver Scout and wondered if Marianne would be there.

  ‘There’s no connecting door.’ Uncle Nat shook his head. ‘Reza’s railcar is much older than the Superliners. You can only get into the Silver Scout from a station platform – that’s why we have to wait for the train to stop.’

  ‘So once we board in Naperville, we won’t be able to leave until we reach Princeton?’

  ‘Precisely.’ Uncle Nat looked out the window, his eyes following the track. ‘I’m dying to know what tonight’s press conference is about. I wonder if he’ll drop any hints.’

  ‘What does August Reza do?’

  ‘He’s a technology entrepreneur. He made his fortune developing batteries.’

  ‘Batteries?’ Hal was surprised to hear you could make a fortune out of something as ordinary as a battery.

  ‘Not the kind of battery you buy in a supermarket. Special batteries – the kind that power satellites or deep-sea drilling equipment.’ Uncle Nat looked at Hal. ‘He invested in electric cars, robotics, AI, phones . . . All powered by his batteries, of course. If you think about it, every electronic device depends on a battery.’

  ‘Is the press conference going to be about batteries?’ Hal pulled a face at the thought of having to sit through something that boring, and Uncle Nat laughed.

  ‘Nobody knows. It’s a secret, which, of course, is making everyone excited.’

  ‘Maybe it’s about trains,’ Hal said, ‘and that’s why you’ve been invited – because you’re an expert.’

  ‘Perhaps.’ Uncle Nat shrugged. ‘To be honest, I don’t know. I’m sure I’m not the only journalist on this train. Look, we’re slowing down. Let’s go.’

  The California Comet pulled alongside a red brick building with a blue sign announcing it was Naperville station. The train door wheezed opened, and they sprang out on to the platform, hurrying to the Silver Scout. Uncle Nat rapped on the door. It was opened by Marianne’s bodyguard, who looked down at them with a blank expression.

  ‘Hi, Woody,’ Hal said cheerfully. ‘This is my uncle, Nathaniel Bradshaw. Mr Reza invited us to visit.’

  Uncle Nat stared at Hal in surprise. Hal nudged him. ‘Oh, um, yes.’ He held up the invitation. ‘We’re invited.’

  Woody grunted and beckoned them in.

  ‘How do you know him?’ Uncle Nat whispered as they followed Woody down a serene white polycarbonate corridor.

  ‘I’ll tell you later,’ Hal replied, enjoying his uncle’s astonishment.

  They passed four white doors with handles of brushed aluminium. One opened a crack, and Hal thought he glimpsed Marianne.

  Two steps down, and Hal found himself in a futuristic room the full width of the carriage. In the middle, an ebony oval table stood perched on one central silver leg. Beyond it, reclining on a carbon-fibre sofa, was an elegant woman with luminous umber skin, dressed in a red pantsuit and zebra-print stilettos. Standing opposite her was a bald man in a dark turtleneck jumper and clear-frame glasses. The woman’s ruby-red lips parted. She had a dazzling smile. ‘Nat Bradshaw, it’s been a long time,’ she said, getting to her feet.

  ‘Zola.’ Uncle Nat bowed his head. ‘I should have guessed you’d be here.’

  ‘Nat,’ Zola said, ‘allow me to introduce you to my good friend August Reza.’

  ‘A pleasure to meet you, sir.’ Uncle Nat shook August Reza’s hand.

  ‘I’ve read more than a couple of your books,’ August replied. ‘The pleasure is mine.’ He turned to Hal. ‘And you must be Harrison.’

  Hal, finding himself tongue-tied, nodded as August shook his hand.

  ‘Hal,’ Uncle Nat said, ‘this is Zola D’Ormond, she’s a . . . colleague of mine.’

  ‘Rival, more like.’ Zola winked at Hal. ‘I’m a journalist too.’

  ‘Let’s have a drink,’ said August. ‘Woody, bring us some juice.’

  ‘Could I get a gingerberry sparkler?’ Zola purred.

  ‘I was delighted to get your invitation,’ said Uncle Nat, his face boyishly excited. ‘I never dreamed I’d get to travel in an original Vista Dome.’

  ‘Isn’t she something?’ August waved his hand. ‘I designed the interior myself. Would you like to see it?’

  Hal and Uncle Nat both nodded enthusiastically. ‘Yes, please,’ they said in unison.

  ‘On the way in, you passed a restroom, the staff cabin – where Woody and my chef sleep – the galley, and my daughter’s compartment.’

  It was Marianne that Hal had spied through the gap in the door.

  ‘This is my meeting room. We’ll be holding the second half of the press conference in here this evening.’

  ‘How will you fit everybody in?’ Zola asked, looking around.

  ‘Table – down.’ Reza said, and responding to his voice, the silver leg retracted into itself like an antenna.

  ‘Cool!’ Hal whispered as he watched it sink into an opening that appeared in the floor.

  ‘The sofas –’ August walked to the far end of the room – ‘will be moved into here.’ He led them up a couple of steps into the rounded tail of the carriage, where a panoramic window stretched around the room. ‘This is my viewing lounge.’

  Hal was momentarily hypnotized by the endless unreeling track, but then August Reza rapped his knuckles on the window.

  ‘Bulletproof, of course.’ He paused, and Hal could tell he was enjoying their expressions of awe as they took in the builtin cocktail bar and the view. ‘Shall we go upstairs?’

  ‘There’s an upstairs?’ Hal asked.

  August put his foot on the bottom step of a clear Perspex staircase and smiled. ‘Come see.’

  Hal eagerly climbed into the room with the Vista Dome ceiling. August stood at the foot of a low Japanese-style double bed of black bamboo topped with white linen.

  ‘This is my bedroom.’ August pointed to the corner, past a white desk with two thin monitors and a keyboard. ‘Down those stairs is the ensuite.’

  ‘Budge up,’ Uncle Nat said, climbing the stairs behind Hal.

  Hal went to sit on the small sofa opposite the desk to make room and looked up at the cloudy sky through the domed roof. ‘This carriage is amazing.’

  Uncle Nat sat beside him. ‘Isn’t it just?’

  ‘Doesn’t the light bother you, in the morning?’ Zola propped herself against the desk, brushing against the computer mouse. The screens lit up. ‘Oops.’

  August stepped over to the computer and shut it down. ‘I have voice-activated blackout blinds,’ he said, giving her a pointed look.

  ‘Of course.’ Zola looked down.

  ‘Hal –’ August wheeled around – ‘if you like trains as much as your uncle, I’ve got something you should see.’ He beckoned for them to follow him back downstairs.

  ‘Nice move, bringing a kid.’ Zola said under her breath to Uncle Nat. ‘Everyone knows Reza’s a sucker for children.’

  Uncle Nat didn’t reply, and Hal wondered what Zola meant.

  In the conference room, the black oval table was rising back up.

  ‘Table – open,’ Reza commanded, and the surface split in two.

  Hal’s eyes grew wide. Inside the table was a perfectly scaled model city, rising up as the table-top folded under. Between the miniature skyscrapers and manicured parks, a sleek silver train with an aerodynamic nose, like a rocket cone, whizzed around an elevated railway track. On the side of the locomotive, engraved under the word Mari, was the number 70707.

  Woody arrived with a tray of green drinks and one fizzing pink, floating with cranberries, ice and a black stick. He picked up a silver pistol from the tray, a flame springing from its end and lit the sparkler, before handing the drink to Zola.

  ‘Toy trains – how adorable,’ Zola said, sounding bored. ‘Come and look at the view with me, Nat.’ She snaked her hand through his arm as he picked up his green juice and pulled him back up the steps in
to the viewing lounge. Hal saw his uncle cast a wistful glance over his shoulder at the model railway as he left.

  ‘This is brilliant!’ Hal leaned down to study every detail of the miniature city. ‘Did you make it?’

  ‘Yes.’ August Reza bent down, his face beside Hal’s. ‘It’s my vision of the future. A world where transport is clean and affordable for everyone, where fossil fuels are obsolete, and carbon stays in the ground. The key is a new type of train. A new train is our best chance of an affordable mode of mass transport that reduces carbon emissions.’

  ‘Dad’s not going on about his visions, is he?’ Marianne said from the doorway.

  ‘Hal this is Marianne, my daughter.’

  ‘We’ve met.’ Marianne took a glass of the green juice from Woody’s tray and sucked on the aluminium straw.

  ‘Mari, you know, all of this is for you.’ August Reza went over to stand beside his daughter, stroking her hair. ‘Who d’you think will inherit this planet after my generation is gone?’

  ‘Urgh, Dad. So morbid!’

  Woody offered Hal a drink.

  ‘What is it?’ He took one and sniffed it. ‘It smells like grass.’

  ‘Green juice,’ said Marianne. ‘It’s all anyone drinks in California.’

  Hal took a sip and immediately spat it back into the glass. ‘Urgh, it tastes like compost!’

  Marianne giggled, putting her empty glass back on the tray. ‘You get used to it.’

  ‘Mari, why don’t you and Hal go play?’ August Reza smiled indulgently.

  Marianne looked at Hal, then nodded. ‘C’mon,’ she said to him.

  ‘Go play!’ she scoffed once they were in the corridor. ‘Pop thinks I’m still six.’

  ‘He’s nice.’ Hal followed her into her compartment.

  ‘Yeah, when he’s not having one of his visions.’ She scowled. ‘He says I’m the most important thing in his life, but he sends me away to boarding school for most of the year in France. If I was that important, he’d spend the school holidays doing father-and-daughter stuff. But no – he brings me on this dumb train while he works on his vision and ignores me.’