“I…” Something had caught his left arm. He had a blurred memory of claws, teeth and a gleaming, hooked blade of bronze. There had been a spray of bright blue feathers tied through a hole punched in the metal. The image stuck in his mind with absurd clarity. “I fell.” Going backwards down a stony slope into the icy river waiting to receive him. “Holy fuck.”

“Quite,” remarked Rove drily.

“What about the others, sir?”

Rove sighed. “Mr. Hinton has the dubious distinction of being the first human being in sixty-five million years to be killed by a dinosaur. The other two…fared less well. They went with Pryor, somewhere we couldn’t follow, or not quickly enough to save them. You’re a lucky man, Lucas.”

The restraints were abruptly retracted into the cot, and he sat up, minding his head. Everything still hurt, and he really didn’t like the way his left hand felt. It was in some sort of flexible cast, smarting like hell whilst being weirdly numb. Hospital, he reminded himself, despite all the evidence. Medical procedure. At least you’ve still got your arm.

He looked around for the creature, but it had vanished. Maybe there were a dozen trapdoors for slinking little monsters to escape through. Maybe it had been…a specially designed doctor’s assistant or…something.

“You’ll see a door opening shortly,” Rove said. “It’s an elevator. Get in, enjoy the ride. It’ll bring you to me.”

The door was practically at waist height, and the compartment he crawled into felt more like a coffin than a room. Then it took off, not up but sideways, shuttling Lucas away at breakneck pace. It changed direction with abrupt jolts that made him glad the walls were so close, because he hit them before he had the chance to build up momentum.

Then the capsule shuddered to a halt, the hatch sliding open so fast that it clipped his knees painfully. Thankfully, the chamber he tumbled into was at least worthy of the name. The top of his head brushed the ceiling, but the walls were smooth, banded light and dark grey like the worst public-sector wallpaper. And there were windows. Lucas took a few steps forwards, feasting his eyes on the view. From one he could look down on a forest canopy—it looked as though it might be somewhere tropical. The other window showed London, a high view onto what might be Canary Wharf. But both windows were next to each other. Screens, then. He was still in the…machine? Space station? Subterranean complex? He had no idea. For a moment he stood there, swaying, feeling his joints creak and complain.