45 The Strip

45 The Strip Peanut pulled on the cardigan that she had painted for herself as the gang walked past the row of trees. She was pleased to find that it was a good fit and, more importantly, covered the bandolier. They found themselves at the edge of a bustling metropolis. 'That must be Main Street,' said Rockwell. 'Come on, there's a footbridge over there.' As they crossed the raised walkway, they could see that Main Street stretched in a perfectly straight line for a couple of miles in each direction: a ten-lane artery transporting its cargo across the city, feeding dozens of smaller capillary roads on either side. Peanut remembered the instructions given to them by Jonathan Higginbottom and looked to her right. And there it was. A tall, white spike on the horizon. The heart of the city.

'The Spire,' she gasped. 'That's the Spire? It's miles away!' groaned Little-Bit. 'My legs are aching already!' Alongside the wide river of traffic, a slower-moving stream of people flowed along the pavements. It was an urban canyon. 'What are those colourful shapes following everybody around?' said Rockwell. 'There's loads of them! Are they balloons?'

'I think said Peanut excitedly, 'that they're speech bubbles! Yes! Look! As people talk, whatever they say appears in type above their heads. It's like we've jumped inside a comic book!' 'That's so cool!' said Little-Bit. Doodle barked and led them down to a raised platform at the busy roadside. A sign read: 'COURTESY TRAM: KANE PARK'. They joined the end of the queue. In front of them stood a man wearing a stiff, beige raincoat and a yellow fedora. He was talking loudly on his phone. Rockwell looked up at the speech bubbles above his head. 'If it means taking this wise guy for a little chat down a dark alleyway, then. 'Listen! I don't care how you do it, just get him to sign the papers!' 'Just close the deal, Charlie!' Rockwell turned to Peanut and raised his eyebrows. 'How does anyone keep secrets in this town?' 'Maybe it's not a secretive kind of place,' she replied. 'Hang on a second,' said Little-Bit, looking upwards, 'Where are our speech bubbles?'

'Oh great! Yet another way for us to stand out from the crowd... Rockwell sighed. 'OK. Let's just try to keep the chat to a minimum, shall we?' said Peanut, 'We don't want any unnecessary attention. A few minutes later, a low rumbling noise signalled the arrival of a large, chrome-trimmed burgundy tram. It looked exactly like the vintage ones that Peanut had seen on a (Melody High) school trip to the London Transport Museum a year ago. It was beautifully old-fashioned with curved glass windows at each end. They waited patiently for passengers to get off before they boarded and claimed seats at the front of the driverless carriage. The doors slid shut and Peanut heard the crackle of electricity on the overhead lines as they pulled away. Peanut couldn't help feeling uneasy as they headed down Main Street, directly towards the Spire. Everything was going smoothly. Too smoothly, perhaps? She was aware that since Dad had left, her default setting was one of pessimism, but nevertheless a sixth sense was telling her that trouble was just around the corner. The question was, would she be equal to the challenge when it presented itself? She hoped beyond hope that their resistance contact would make an appearance before she found out the answer.