“Wonderful,” said JC. He considered the train for a long moment. “It’s real enough. It’ll get us there. Because the Intruder wants to meet us in person. Well, I want to meet the Intruder. So let’s go.”

He stepped into the car through the waiting doors and looked quickly around to assure himself it really was as empty as it appeared. Kim floated in after him, comforting him with her presence as best she could. She knew he was remembering another train, and another car, and what had happened to him there. JC took off his sunglasses and looked up and down the length of the car; but even his new eyes couldn’t detect any booby-traps or hidden evils. He glanced briefly at Kim.

“I’m fine. You?”

“I’m fine, JC.”

“Can you see anything? Sense anything? Anything the Intruder wouldn’t want us to know about?”

“This isn’t a train,” said Kim. “It’s the Intruder’s idea of a train. A new-made thing, based on the hell trains it used to abduct the commuters earlier. There’s no driver in the engine; the train knows where it needs to go. The Intruder’s becoming stronger all the time . . . its thoughts and intentions can take on shape and form now.”

“All the more reason to brace it in its lair now,” said JC. “Before it becomes so strong it can bring us to it just by thinking about it.”

He gestured sharply to the others still hesitating on the platform, and one by one they entered the car. Natasha made a point of striding fearlessly through the open doors. Erik scurried in after her, trying to look in every direction at once. Happy positively bounded on board, smiling foolishly. Melody gave her machines a last farewell pat and stepped through the doors as though it were just another train. Happy slipped his arm through hers and beamed at her chummily. Melody pulled her arm free and slapped him round the head. The doors slammed together abruptly, and the train moved off, leaving the platform behind.

The train ride was unnaturally smooth and easy. The engine was utterly silent, the car didn’t rock in the least, and once it entered the tunnel-mouth, the train never once deviated from its path. No jolts or turns, no corners, no other platforms; only a straight line through an endless, impenetrable darkness. Not one trace of light outside the car windows, and with no stations or landmarks to judge the train’s progress, it was hard to tell if it was moving at all. Or even if they were still underground rather than moving through some great night-dark sea.