Johnny Mackintosh and the Spirit of London (23 page)

He went through one set of revolving doors and stood outside breathing in the muggy atmosphere of prehistoric Earth. He'd only meant to take a short walk around the ship before returning to the bridge. He knew he should try to help find a solution to their problems, but now he was here … There was less than a day left and no one would ever be able to see this again. Besides, he'd be back before they knew and it would help clear his head anyway. He took a very deep breath, tucked the locket inside his tunic and slipped quietly away into a light drizzle.

The Spirit of London had landed in what was to have become the Yucatan Peninsula, right by a coastline that Sol's projections showed would have one day bordered the Gulf of Mexico. As they were on the same course it was also precisely where the asteroid was due to strike, but by landing here they'd used the minimum amount of energy. For what is was worth, the secondary thrusters meant they could still take off and comfortably reach escape velocity before the impact which, according to Johnny's watch, would be in about seven hours' time. He turned around and walked slowly backward, looking up at his beautiful ship, which was only just a little taller than the conifers around
it. There was a forest on his left and an ocean beneath the cliffs to his right. Everything was green and lush, right up to the cliff face. After the last few weeks spent either on Melania or in spaceships it was good to feel the wind and rain on his face. He walked to the edge of the cliff and gazed out across the water, tasting the salt in the air. Waves were breaking around a lonely rock about half a mile out to sea. Johnny turned and jogged into the trees—it would make him harder to spot from the ship.

As soon as he entered the forest Johnny slowed down. The dense canopy of leaves meant it quickly became dark. He should be careful. It would be a bad idea to get too close to some of the strange plants he saw around him, with their stripy foliage, large spines, or very elongated stems—they looked nearly as alien as anything he'd seen on Melania. And as he walked he could hear some very strange noises in the distance. Some things, though, looked reassuringly familiar and as he passed a football-sized flower head he smiled as several fat bumblebees buzzed in and out. Maybe it wasn't all that different from home? He approached a narrow stream and saw dragonflies with enormous wingspans darting up and down. Their vibrantly colored blue wings looked strikingly similar to the Chancellor's robes. Johnny wouldn't really miss Gronack if he never saw it again, which did make him feel a little guilty, but only a little. The stream was too big to jump across so he walked with it on his left, further into the forest. Was it really worth trying to bring Gronack back to the same time as the rest of them, as the others were hoping to? He imagined what it would say when he got back to the ship.

“How irresponsible to go wandering off like that … I wish we'd just taken off and left you there … If I were in charge …”

The conversation in Johnny's head became so loud that he almost walked right into it. He stopped just in time. Silently, he edged behind a giant fern so he could peer through the leaves
at the creature in front of him, alternately drinking from the stream and chewing on some plants along the bank. It was about six meters long, on four stubby legs, covered with green and brown spikes, and with a large clubbed tail. It was a living, breathing dinosaur.

There was a crackle from the games console in Johnny's pocket, followed by Clara's voice saying, “Johnny, are you there?”

Johnny's hand dived into his pocket, pulled out his handheld and fumbled for the power button, finally turning the device off, but not before the creature had lifted its head out of the water and turned to face in his direction. The clubbed tail started swaying as the dinosaur began to shuffle nervously backward toward some thick undergrowth. Johnny stepped out from behind the fern, holding his hands up in the air. “It's OK,” he said softly. “Don't be afraid … I'm not going to hurt you.”

The dinosaur halted and tilted its head toward him; Johnny was pleased to see the tail also stop moving. He walked slowly toward the creature, lowering his arms as he went, saying, “Don't worry … I just want to say hello.” He was now standing right in front of it. He kept the console in his right hand but held out the back of his left in front of the dinosaur's face and the creature started sniffing. Then a long tongue came out and licked Johnny's hand. “Good boy … good boy,” said Johnny, turning his hand over and gently patting the creature's meter-long head which, in turn, nosed forward and started sniffing Johnny's tunic. “Hey that tickles,” he laughed, and tried to push it gently away. The head jerked back from Johnny and the creature's clubbed tail came swinging just past him. Johnny dived out of the way, sending the games console sailing through the air. It landed with a squelch in some mud a few meters away. The dinosaur turned and fled from him, crashing through the
undergrowth as it went. “Stop!” Johnny shouted. “Don't go … I didn't mean to scare you.” He started to get to his feet when his leg brushed against something very solid that hadn't been there a moment before.

Slowly, he turned his head to see what was behind. He wished he hadn't. Two beady black eyes were peering down from a head that on its own was as big as Johnny. Standing on its tree-like hind legs the creature started sniffing along Johnny's back, and up to his face. Johnny felt a gust of hot air raise the hairs on the back of his neck—the bad breath was almost overpowering. The dinosaur lifted its head away, opened an enormous mouth full of huge teeth and roared, the deafening noise sounding almost like “Foooooooood!” Johnny's heart was thumping so hard he thought his chest might explode. Why had he turned the console off? Why? That was really stupid. He screwed his eyes up, concentrated really hard and willed the machine to come back on.

The giant head bashed into Johnny's side, flipping him over onto his back. He lay in the mud unable to move as the massive jaws opened above him. Teeth were the only things he seemed able to see—many centimeters long and razor sharp. “Master Johnny … please come in,” came Alf's voice from the mud a few meters away. Distracted, the creature craned its neck down to where the voice was coming from and bellowed again. It was now or never. Johnny leapt to his feet and ran. He ran through the thickest undergrowth he could, ignoring the stinging plants as he pushed them out of the way. He desperately hoped the dinosaur—it was a T. Rex … he was sure it was a T. Rex—wouldn't be able to follow him, but as he ran he could hear it crashing through the trees behind. He felt a giant pair of jaws closing on him and he dived—just in time—sliding in the mud of the forest floor to carry him out of reach of the giant teeth. Then he got up and ran again. The undergrowth was getting thinner. He was nearing the edge
of the forest. Johnny stole a glance over his shoulder—the T. Rex was still following, about ten meters behind. Johnny kept going. He was out of the forest now. He could see the Spirit of London—it was really close. Maybe they'd spot him? He sprinted for all he was worth as the earth shook behind him. Johnny hit the ground again as jaws snapped shut just above his head. The T. Rex overran him. It turned, standing between Johnny and safety. The creature roared again—this time it sounded like, “Miiiiiiiiine.” Johnny got to his feet but was forced backward, as he searched for an opening. The T. Rex wasn't running now—it was walking toward him, a gleam in its eyes and saliva dripping from its enormous mouth. If Johnny got past he'd have a clear run to the ship. He feinted left and darted right but the monster was ready and blocked him. Johnny stopped, retreated some more, then dashed forward again, but only narrowly avoided being bashed unconscious by a swinging dinosaur arm. Every time he tried something the T. Rex anticipated it. He kept backing away, until his feet reached the very edge of the cliff. There was nowhere left to go.

And then he was hoisted off his feet and into the air.

“You hold on,” screeched a voice above Johnny. “I carry you. Safe soon.”

Johnny didn't feel especially safe as he rose into the air but he reached up and held on to a pair of giant claws.

“You much heavy,” the creature continued, flapping its leathery wings as quickly as it seemed able. “Try not drop you.”

Could this really be happening, wondered Johnny? Could a dinosaur be speaking to him? And then it dawned on him that the little speck of hundra inside him must be able to translate even that. Below, the T. Rex was roaring madly upward at them from the cliff face, furious that its prey had been snatched away. Johnny's carrier swooped over the edge of the cliff and above the ocean, now gliding downward.

“Excuse me,” said Johnny. “Where are we going?”

“Take you home,” screeched the creature. “Nest down here.”

Johnny looked beneath him and saw several ledges on which winged dinosaurs were standing, while others soared above the water like giant scaly seagulls. His winged support swooped down and seemed to be heading toward the cliff very quickly. Johnny braced himself for impact, but at the last moment his rescuer flapped its wings and they landed, light as a feather, on a ledge halfway up the cliff face.

“Thanks,” said Johnny, looking into the eyes of the creature for the first time. They were proud and thoughtful. Its wings, huge leather membranes stretched over its arms, with just the talons poking out at the top, reminded Johnny of bats. It was standing next to him on the ledge, supported by two fairly spindly legs, and was about as tall as the Chancellor. “You saved my life.”

“I not see your kind before. Live in new silver tree,” said the creature, bowing its long head to reveal an equally long bony crest at the back of its skull. “We have code. Kill only when need. T. Rex greedy. She made kill before. You not be eaten today.”

“Not being eaten any day would be good,” said Johnny, who bowed his own head, sensing it was the right thing to do. He didn't enjoy exposing his neck, with the golden locket swinging beneath it, in front of the giant, razor sharp beak and after as short a time as he thought he could get away with, but still be polite, he raised his head and continued. “My name's Johnny. What are you called?”

Johnny couldn't believe his luck—he'd been saved by a real life dinosaur, intelligent enough to have a basic language. The creature bowed a second time when Johnny christened him Ptery. He'd seen pictures of flying dinosaurs and was pretty sure his rescuer was a pteradon rather than the even bigger pterydactal,
but the name would work for either. Having a name clearly made Ptery feel very important. He told Johnny that only the elders of his flock were normally given names. The only downside had been that, as a thank you, Ptery seemed determined to get Johnny to eat some of the raw fish he'd regurgitated from a pink gullet onto the ledge in front of them. Out of politeness Johnny had managed one very small mouthful, closing his eyes and forcing it down without letting it touch the sides.

Ptery lived with about fifty others, perched on the cliff face, fishing for food and flying for fun. Johnny watched throughout the afternoon as contests were held, half a dozen of the flock at a time swooping down off the cliff, their wingtips skimming the surface of the waves, as they rounded the solitary rock out to sea and then flew back to the cliff.

The winner of the races chose the next competition, a diving contest. Ptery, perhaps inspired by his new name, won it, staying beneath the water longer than any of his fellow dinosaurs—so long in fact that Johnny worried he might have drowned. When his rescuer emerged, dripping on the cliff ledge next to him, Johnny noticed Ptery had webbed feet and was probably superbly equipped for fishing. By this time the Sun was getting lower in the sky. It might have been Johnny's imagination but it did look younger … brighter … yellower somehow. As dusk began to fall, Ptery pointed out the bright light that had appeared in the sky the night before, now dominating it, which the elders took as a sign that momentous events were happening. Johnny nodded gravely and shivered. It was getting cold, and late. He knew he should get back to Sol. He told Ptery that the “silver tree” he lived in had also come from the sky—that it too could fly, and asked if it was possible for the dinosaur to carry him back up to the cliff top? It was while Ptery was choking with laughter that a commotion began around them, with the screeching of the rest of the flying dinosaurs drowning out the roar of the ocean below. The
others had all lifted off from the cliff and were darting toward a black speck that was hovering in the distance. As they circled around the speck it came closer, until Johnny could see a black London taxi flying toward the ledge on which they were standing. He stood up and waved both his arms. Through the tinted windows he could make out the figures of Alf and Clara in the front seats.

“You know creature?” asked Ptery, angling his head at the black cab now hovering a few feet away.