by Amy Cross
I have to be misunderstanding this command.
“There's nothing to be scared of,” he continues, his voice sounding very calm and authoritative. “Just reach out and touch her.”
“You've got to be kidding,” Josh whispers.
“I wouldn't tell you to do this,” Doctor Carter says, “if I thought you were in any danger whatsoever.”
“Isn't one of the rules that we shouldn't touch them?” I ask, unable to hide the fact that I'm nervous. “I mean, there aren't any studies that -”
“Screw the studies,” he replies, interrupting me. “Nobody ever made a major advance by dutifully following the studies. She can't do anything to you, Katie, and we could learn a great deal. You're right next to her already, aren't you?”
“Sure, but -”
“And she hasn't given any indication that she knows you're there.”
“No, but I -”
“Say her name.”
“What?”
“Say her name. Speak to her.”
I don't know why he's pushing me like this, but I feel as if he's challenging me to prove my mettle. I guess he wants me to prove that ghosts can't hear the living.
“Hello,” I say finally, feeling a little ridiculous but also scared. “Catherine? Hello.”
I wait, but she simply continues to stare out the window.
“Try again,” Doctor Carter says.
“Hello Catherine,” I continue. “Hello Catherine Lannister. My name is...”
I take a deep breath. There's no reason to be scared, but I can't deny the tightening sense of fear in my chest. I guess I just need to get over this.
“Hello Catherine Lannister,” I say finally, “my name is Katie Sinclair.”
I wait.
Nothing.
“Keep going,” Doctor Carter whispers through the earpiece.
“We've come to study you,” I say out loud, keeping my eyes fixed on Catherine's face, waiting for any hint that she's aware of me. “You're a... You're a ghost, you died more than a century ago, and we recently made a breakthrough. We know ghosts are real now, although we don't know much more. We're still learning and, well, that's why we came here this weekend. We got permission to come and study you. Is that okay?”
Again I wait, but her attention seems to be utterly focused on the view through the window. She's given absolutely no indication that she knows I'm even here, which I've got to admit is a relief. I can't help thinking back to Josh's claim earlier, but I keep telling myself that he was just wrong.
“Keep trying,” Doctor Carter says.
“What should I say to her?”
“Tell her more about why we're here.”
“But you already said that -”
“Try!”
I pause for a moment. If I back down, if I refuse, I'll end up as a laughing stock.
“We're here to try to understand you,” I explain. “We're not going to hurt you. We just want to know what's going on here.”
“Now touch her.”
“I...”
My voice trails off. How can I explain that I really, really don't want to touch Catherine?
“Katie, just try it,” Doctor Carter continues. “I promise you, nothing bad will happen.”
I open my mouth to tell him I can't, but then I realize that maybe this is one time I have to really push myself. I hesitate for a moment, before switching the scanner to my left hand and then raising my right toward Catherine's elbow. My heart is pounding now, but I feel as if I have to do this, if only to -
Suddenly Catherine turns toward me.
Startled, I step back and bump against the wall, as Catherine steps past me and starts walking calmly and slowly toward Josh's end of the corridor. I turn and watch her walk away, and I see Josh scuttling out of her path.
“Did you touch her?” Doctor Carter asks, hurrying over to join me. When he grabs my arm, I turn to him. “Katie, did you actually touch her?”
“No,” I reply, shaking my head. “I didn't get a chance.”
“Okay,” he replies, clearly a little disappointed, “let's keep up with her. I want to see where she goes next.”
He hurries past, but for a moment I'm too flustered to go with him. When Josh comes over, I can't quite manage to force a smile and pretend that I'm okay.
“He shouldn't have asked you to do that,” he says firmly.
“It's fine.”
“It's not fine. If he wants someone to talk to her and touch her, he should do it himself.” He pauses. “Did she look at you?”
“I...”
For a moment, I think back to the moment when she turned toward me. Did we actually make eye contact? I was so startled, I'm not sure I really saw properly, but I quickly tell myself that I can't afford to let my imagination run wild.
“I said I'm fine,” I reply, before stepping past him and setting off to follow Catherine myself. “Come on, we've got work to do.”
VII
As the morning sun continues to rise and spread its rays across the forest, I sit on the step of the van and stare down at my sandwich. I know I should eat something for breakfast, but after a long night's work I feel strangely wired and alert. And nauseous, too. It's a little before 8am and we've got a full day ahead of us, and I desperately need to get my nerves under control.
“No, Dad, it's fine,” I say, hoping that I can calm him down a little. “It's not scary at all.”
That's a lie.
Isn't it?
“It all seems pretty unnatural to me,” he grumbles, his voice sounding crystal clear over such a strong connection. “I'm not sure that I approve of all this ghost-hunting. And did you see the news this morning? Did you see about the riots?”
“Someone just needs to take control,” I tell him. “People are scared. Nothing makes sense anymore. That's the scary thing, not wandering around in a rattling old haunted house.” I pause for a moment, and I can feel an un-asked question swelling in my thoughts. “Dad,” I continue finally, “you know the house we lived in when I was a kid?”
“In Boxlow Lane?”
“Yeah. Do you know who lives there now?”
“I've got no idea. Why?”
I swallow hard, as I think back to the sight of Mum in her bed. She chose to die at home, in the room she'd always shared with Dad.
“Katie?” he says after a moment, and now he sounds cautious. “Why are you talking about that house? You're not -”
“It just popped into my head,” I lie.
“You've never mentioned it before.”
“I have to go,” I reply. Another lie. “Dad, I'll call you when I get home, okay? Doctor Carter's a real slave-driver. I have to get back inside.”
“But -”
“I'll call soon. I promise.”
With that, I cut the call before he can ask me any more questions. Sitting alone, staring down at my phone, I can't help thinking about our old family home. Mum died in that room. Is she now, like Catherine Lannister, rattling around? Is there some trace of her still there, waiting for me to go back and visit? If I find her ghost, will she recognize me? I know ghosts aren't supposed to be aware of the living, but I can't shake the thought that maybe there's a way to break through to them. Am I going to get Mum back?
“There you are,” a familiar voice says suddenly, and I turn to see Josh coming down the steps at the front of the house. “Man, it's cold out here,” he adds, crossing his arms and rubbing his hands against his shoulders. “Aren't you freezing?”
“I'm fine,” I reply, before taking a mouthful from the sandwich. I really don't want to eat, but I should get something down.
“So you were really quiet for the rest of the night,” he continues, taking a seat next to me. “After that little moment with Catherine at the window, I mean. You just shut right up for the rest of the time we were following her.”
“I was focusing on the work.”
“Is that all it was?”
“What else could it be?”
/> I wait for him to advance some crazy theory, but instead he simply stares at me for a moment.
“Are you sure you didn't touch her?” he asks finally. “Maybe just a little, right before she turned and walked away?”
“I didn't touch her,” I say firmly.
“Not even a tiny bit?”
Sighing, I set the sandwich aside and get to my feet.
“Okay,” he continues, “then what's gotten into you? 'Cause you're flustered, Katie, and I want to help.”
I take a step forward, fully intending to just go back into the house and find Doctor Carter so I can get a job to occupy my mind, but after a moment I turn back to Josh.
“Why did he want me to do it?” I ask.
“Is that what's bothering you?”
“The more I think about last night,” I continue, “the more I realize it was like he was sending me in there as part of an experiment. It was like I was part of the test. And the more he kept saying it was safe, the more I couldn't help wondering why he wasn't doing it himself.”
“So you think maybe he was using you as a guinea pig?”
“Wouldn't you have felt the same?”
“I've felt that since we arrived,” he replies. “I mean, I get it, he's in charge. He's the boss, and that makes total sense. But he could have taken his pick of assistants from any of the departments at the uni, so why did he decide to bring us?”
“He said he wanted students,” I point out.
“So he could teach us, or so he could push us around?” He gets to his feet. “If you ask me, he's after a breakthrough of his own. Something to put him right up there on the same level of acclaim as Alice Reynolds. And if that means sending two naive little students into dangerous situations, then would you really put it past him?”
“You think he basically sees us as a couple of red shirts?”
“What he asked you to do last night was crazy,” he continues. “He had no idea what might happen if you actually touched Catherine Lannister. And I don't care what anyone else says, I know that she's already looked at me and shown some degree of awareness. I understand why he was skeptical of what I claimed, Katie, but his reaction went way beyond that. It was as if I was endangering his whole plan. Think about it, shouldn't he have been interested? Shouldn't he have at least listened to what I said happened? He was way too dismissive for someone with a supposedly inquisitive mind.”
“I don't think he's a bad person,” I reply cautiously.
“He wants glory,” he explains. “He wants it bad. He wants to put Alice Reynolds back in her place. And frankly, I wouldn't put anything past him right now. I don't think there's anything he wouldn't do to get what he wants. So just keep that in mind next time he tells you to do something crazy and promises you won't get hurt.”
I open my mouth to tell him that he must be wrong, but at the last moment I hold back. No matter how much I trust and respect Doctor Carter, in the back of my mind there's a little voice that's trying to warn me of something. And deep down, I'm starting to think that he's hiding something from us. Something about his reason for bringing us here in the first place.
***
“Last night was essentially a way for us to set up,” Doctor Carter says a short while later, as he sits fiddling with one of his homemade sensors in the old stable at the rear of the property. “The second night is going to be when we make real progress.”
“What kind of progress, exactly?” I ask.
I wait for an answer, but he merely glances at me briefly before looking back down at the device.
“If you could tell us a little more about what exactly you're trying to achieve,” I continue, trying to be diplomatic, “maybe we could help you better. Please don't take this the wrong way, Doctor Carter, but it's difficult trying to second-guess you all the time.”
“I believe I've made all my instructions perfectly clear,” he mutters.
“I'm talking about the bigger picture,” I reply. “I'm talking about the whole reason we're here. You make it seem like you just want to see Catherine Lannister's ghost and get some readings, but I feel like that's not enough. There has to be something else.”
He arches an eyebrow. “Oh there does, does there?”
“We came here because we want to help you,” I continue. “Because we want to contribute.”
“You're already contributing,” he replies. “More than you can possibly imagine.”
“But if you'd explain the -”
“I can't,” he adds, cutting me off. “Please stop asking, Katie, because I just can't. Do you remember when I enlisted you for this project and I told you that you'd have to trust me?”
“Yes, but -”
“And you said you'd be able to do that.”
“Of course, but I -”
“I said it might not be easy.”
“I remember, but -”
“So now is when the trusting part gets difficult,” he adds firmly. “Now is when you have to trust that everything I'm doing is for the right reasons. I'm not some kind of lunatic of psychopath, Katie. I know there are stories about me, about how I'm supposed to have become bitter and angry after Alice Reynolds made her big breakthrough, but please don't assume that those stories are true. If I could tell you more about why we're here, don't you think I would have done so already?”
I open my mouth to tell him that I understand, but that I need to know more. At the last moment, however, I hold back. I can't deny that I promised Doctor Carter I'd be able to trust him, and for what it's worth he seems to be being genuine right now. I can't imagine why he wouldn't be able to tell me everything about the project, but I guess that's what makes it so difficult to trust somebody.
Sooner or later, you have to accept their word over your own fears.
“So what's the plan for tonight?” I ask finally. “We've only got one more night here, so I'm assuming you want to make it count.”
“Everything hinges on tonight,” he replies. “If my theory is correct, we're going to see something truly astonishing here at Lannister Hall and...”
His voice trails off. After a moment he looks back down at the device he's holding, and I notice that his hands seem to be trembling slightly.
“Josh really thinks she looked at him,” I point out. “He really -”
“Forget Josh,” he replies, turning to look back at me. “He doesn't matter. I need you to trust me, Katie. Blindly, if necessary. I won't let you down, even if there are moments when you might lose faith in me. I know what I'm doing.” He hesitates for a few seconds, as if he's watching me very carefully, looking for some sign that I understand. “And now I need you to go back into the house and finish setting up the array. I promise you, Katie... Tonight is going to be like nothing you've ever seen before.”
VIII
I trust him.
As I sit cross-legged in one of the house's many empty bedrooms, working on the home-brewed array that's supposed to be able to monitor the whole house tonight, I finally decide that I do trust Doctor Carter.
I do.
Honestly.
I mean, he hasn't made it easy. He's evasive and abrasive, he acts at times like he's the only person whose opinion matters, but I genuinely believe that he's a fundamentally good guy. Sure, his method might suck at times and he can come across as a real ass, but that doesn't make him a bad person. I've read enough of his papers to know that he's brilliant at what he does, and I guess real geniuses can just be difficult to be around.
Doctor Alice Reynolds might be my hero, but Doctor Henry Carter comes a very close second.
Take this array, for example. Doctor Carter hasn't really explained it properly, but his mumbled comments indicate that it's supposed to be some kind of monitoring system. He wants node points set up in each and every room, and I can only assume that he intends to have some kind of live surveillance system that'll record – in real time – everything that Catherine Lannister does. That'd certainly be a step up from the way we were worki
ng last night, when we basically had to run around trying to keep up with the ghost. A proper monitoring system will give us a real edge.
At the same time, I feel as if Doctor Carter's definitely got something else on his mind. Something that -
Suddenly hearing a bumping sound over my shoulder, I turn and look back across the room. There's no sign of anyone or anything, and I quickly remind myself that even in a 100% confirmed haunted house, there's no way a ghost can be making a noise in the middle of the day. It's well-established that the background maon levels aren't strong enough during daylight hours, which means that there's a kind of barrier that prevents humans seeing or hearing any kind of ghostly activity.
So the bump was just...
I hesitate for a moment, before turning back to the array node and making sure the cables are threaded into the head unit properly. Once that's done, I get to my feet and head out of the room. I was planning to take a short break before finishing this row of rooms, but now I figure I might as just well get on with the job. As I head along the corridor, however, I suddenly realize that I'm approaching the exact spot where Catherine Lannister stopped last night, and a moment later I reach the window where she stood.
Stopping, I look out and see the forest, but that's all I see.
Even in the middle of the day, the view isn't particularly interesting, and I can't imagine what she could have seen during the night. Still, I keep looking for a moment, trying to imagine what – if anything – could have been going through her mind. I know the prevailing theory is that ghosts have no real conscious mind, at least not in the way that we'd understand it, but at the same time it's so hard to see their faces and believe that their minds have somehow evaporated. So as I stand here and look out at the forest, I can't help trying to put myself in Catherine's position and wondering what she was thinking. I can't help thinking that she herself must have been thinking of something.
And then, just as I'm about to turn away, I catch a very faint hint of movement reflected in the glass. It's at that moment that I come up with a theory of my own.
***
