"Because you don't want to see what's outside," I said. "We have to travel through strange, harsh, places to reach the Nightside. Dangerous and unnatural places, that would blast the sight from your eyes and the reason from your mind. Or so I'm told. I've never felt like peeking."

"What about the driver? Doesn't he have to see where he's going?"

"I'm not convinced there is a driver," I said thoughtfully. "I don't know anyone who's ever seen one. I think the trains have been running this route for so long now that they're quite capable of running themselves."

'You mean there's no-one human at the controls?"

"Probably better that way. Humans are so limited." I smiled at her shocked face. "Sorry you came yet?"

"No."

"Don't worry. You will be."

And that was when something from outside crashed against the side of the carriage opposite us, throwing the Russian to the floor. He carefully gathered up his paper and went to sit further down. The heavy metal wall dented inwards, slowly yielding under the determined assault from outside. The Punk girl didn't look up from her Bible, though she was silently mouthing the words now. The dents in the metal deepened, and one whole section bowed ominously inwards under unimaginable pressure. Joanna sank back in her seat.

"Take it easy," I said reassuringly. "It can't get in. The train is protected."

She looked at me just a little wildly. Culture shock. I'd seen it before. "Protected?" she said finally.

"Old pacts, agreements; trust me, you really don't

want to know the details. Especially if you've eaten recently."

Outside the carriage, something roared with thwarted rage. It didn't sound at all human. The sound fell slowly away, retreating down the length of the carriage as the train left it behind. The metal wall unhurriedly resumed its original shape, the dents disappearing one by one.