Lemuria by Burt Clinchandhill (most popular novels of all time .txt) 📗

strapped on his helmet, and De Cremonese followed his example. “Follow me?”

“You lead the way.”

Bishop fired up the motorcycle, turned the throttle and steered. He slowly followed the red line on the screen, evading as many obstacles as he could. Every now and then, he looked behind him to see De Cremonese following his every move. After five minutes, the small car on the map suggested a sharp left turn. Bishop braked, and De Cremonese stopped next to him. “What is it?” he asked.

Bishop pointed to the screen. De Cremonese looked at the screen and then ahead. The view was unobstructed all the way to the cliffs where the island sunk into the ocean. “We should be able to see it from here.” He took the binoculars that hung from his neck and looked through them. “Nothing,” he said as he put them down again.

“No obstructions all the way to the destination, so why the left turn?” He pointed left to what appeared to be the exact same type of shrubs and bushes as were ahead of them.

“You want to go straight?” De Cremonese asked.

Bishop rubbed his chin. “Normally, I would follow any suggestion I get from my GPS, but out here....”

“I trust your judgment.”

“Then we go straight on.” Bishop leaned down, firmly grabbed the handlebars, and opened the throttle. The bike set itself in motion and less than twenty feet ahead Bishop looked back to see if De Cremonese was following. Then there was a loud bang, the screeching sound of bending metal and Bishop was thrown off his motorcycle. Coming down, Bishop first hit a Sesuvium bush before rolling onto a flat piece of rock. De Cremonese braked immediately, got off and ran to Bishop.

“Are you okay?” De Cremonese asked, kneeling next to Bishop.

Bishop shook his head a few times. “I think so. What happened?”

“Not sure. You looked back, and the next thing I saw you flying from your bike and landing. It’s a good thing you were driving slowly. You’re a lucky man. Sesuvium is a very soft bush.”

Bishop checked himself for injuries. “Nothing,” he concluded.

De Cremonese lent him a hand getting up. Together, they walked back to the motorcycle, turned it upright and checked for damage.

“It’s the strangest thing. One moment I was making some speed, and the next I was thrown off, as if stopped by an invisible hand.”

“Seems okay,” De Cremonese determined as he straightened a mudguard. “But what happened?”

Bishop checked the ground, but there were no irregularities, no potholes or upstanding pieces of rock. Nothing that could have caused a bike to crash like that.

De Cremonese walked a few steps away from the bike to get a better view when he suddenly stopped, took a step back and turned toward Bishop.

“What is it?” Bishop asked.

“I think you better get over here.”

Bishop joined De Cremonese, stopping next to him, and turned back to the motorcycle.

“No. Turn the other way,” De Cremonese commanded.

Bishop turned and looked over the island.

De Cremonese stretched out his arm and stopped, where he touched an invisible wall, like a mime artist would do.

Bishop watched his strange behavior and then mimicked it. As he stretched his arm, it abruptly stopped as if hitting a concealed fence.

“What the hell?” he called out, then immediately looked at the father.

“No problem,” De Cremonese said, forgiving him. “My sentiments exactly. It’s an invisible wall.”

Bishop carefully took a small step forward, pulling off his helmet. He took his reading glasses from his pocket, put them on and carefully put his head closer to the wall. He stopped. “Not really invisible.”

“What is it?”

“Look closer,” Bishop suggested.

De Cremonese carefully stepped closer to the wall. His head stopped about four inches from it, where he focused his eyes. “Pixels?” he asked. “Indeed, pixels. Very fine, nearly invisible pixels, and no shadows.” He waved an arm in front of the screen. ”Amazing. It’s a gigantic video wall.” He took a few steps back and walked left and right, while keeping his eye on the screen. “And it seems to adjust when looked at from different angles.”

“That’s an amazing piece of technology.” Bishop sounded admiring.

“A piece of technology I didn’t know existed yet,” De Cremonese added.

“Astonishing. And I guess now we know why the GPS directed us around it.”

“Indeed, it’s taking us around some kind of large construction. It’s really incredible. Unbelievable,” De Cremonese kept uttering. “I guess we know what to do now.” As he turned, Bishop was already on his bike, checking everything out again. “Everything okay?”

“Seems so.” He started the engine. “Shall we?”

“Sure. I’ll follow again. Will you now please stay exactly on the GPS-suggested path?”

“Don’t worry,” Bishop replied as he cautiously set his bike in motion. After a few feet, he raised a thumb, and De Cremonese followed his lead again.

For the next five minutes, the men slowly drove their bikes around the ‘invisible’ structure. Where the GPS suggested a sharp right, Bishop stopped the bike and got off.

De Cremonese followed his example. “What is it?”

“From here we’re going to the center of the island. I wanted to try something.” He took his satellite phone from the handlebars and started walking. He sauntered, taking small steps at a time. He stretched his arms to the left and right, and after some fifteen feet, he stopped. “Here. You feel that?”

De Cremonese joined him and imitated Bishop’s movements with his arms and hands. “There’s the wall again, but now both on our left and right. We’re in some kind of an invisible corridor.”

Bishop stretched one arm straight up. “I don’t feel anything, but there could also be a screen on top of us.”

“That would explain why we saw nothing from the sky,” De Cremonese added.

“It does. It also means that we are now inside the structure.” Bishop looked at his satellite phone. “I suggest we walk from here.”

De Cremonese nodded. “Seems like the safest thing to do.”

Bishop walked slowly, keeping his left hand on the videowall, guiding them inside. “You see that?” he asked De Cremonese, who was close