The Great Game

by O. J. Lowe

  Chances. You sometimes had to take them.

  “Okay,” she said. “I don’t have anything else to do now. I’ll listen.”

  “Lovely, lovely… You have a nice voice Ronnie, I got to say. Like a canary or something. Run along little bird, I have your number and I’ll be in touch. Toodles.”

  It went dead as abruptly as it had come to life. Weronika Saarth tossed her summoner onto the bed and looked at herself in the mirror thoughtfully. Doors and windows. When one closes, another opens. She’d have to consider this. It could be just the thing she’d been looking for.

  Chapter Forty-Seven. Date Night.

  “Container crystals, also sometimes known as capture crystals and lock glasses depending on who you talk to, are intended by their very nature to be indestructible. They’re fashioned out of a synthetic substance that on the outside is low grade diamond-quality and on the inside a form of malleable glass that can safely hold the spirit within without damage. It used to be that there were many poor knock-offs once and spirits were getting damaged and lost before and after claiming. That’s why the ICCC brought in legislation to ensure that there was a standard set across the board for the crystals. Anyone not adhering to the protocols faces an automatic fine plus the chance of incarceration.”

  Professor David Fleck to a class, on the nature of container crystals.

  The seventeenth day of Summerpeak.

  “That’s not right.” Pete spoke as he clapped his eyes on the shattering crystal, a confused look filling them. “That shouldn’t happen.”

  “I never heard of anything like that before,” Matt agreed. “Might want to…”

  It gave and suddenly he had a handful of broken fragments clapped in his palm. Some of them fell away, tinkled down to the floor. One bounced off his shoe. Mia, wearing sandals, gave him a rueful shake of the head as he tossed them in the nearest trashcan. What apparently had survived that shattering was Permear, the ghost shaking himself off as he floated aimlessly in the air, a foot above the ground.

  “That was cramped,” he said. “You have bigger? I’m a ghost of considerable girth. And I think my word range is going up as well.” He narrowed his eyes at Scott. “Think I’m getting some thoughts back from you… You’re annoyed.”

  “Yeah, I’m annoyed!” Scott said angrily. “What the hells did you just do?”

  “Sweetheart, I dead. There is no hells.” Permear blew on his hands loftily as he spoke before stretching out. “Take it from me. I know what I talking about. Trust me, I a ghost.”

  Scott tore his attention away from his suddenly erudite spirit and glanced around the corridor at his friends, an almost pleading look on his face. “Tell me you guys just heard that.”

  “What did he say?” Mia asked. Of them all, she looked the least like she thought he was a crazy person. Neither Matt nor Pete had backed away and made a run for the exit but they looked like they wanted to, like the thought had crossed their mind.

  “Just said trust me I’m a ghost and there is no hells. Apparently, he knows what he’s talking about.”

  “To be fair, he is cute,” Mia said. “In a darkly malevolent kind of way. I like him.”

  “Aww, thanks,” Permear said, hovering up to stare his three eyes at her two. “This your mate? She less unappealing than some of the other bagmeat here. Especially you.” He raised a prominent brow at Scott and waggled it.

  It came out so blunt Scott couldn’t help but react. “No, she’s not my mate, you floating purple douche!”

  “Not nice!” Permear protested. “I only being nice.”

  “Mate?” Mia asked, raising an eyebrow. “Really? That what we’re calling it now?”

  “I think it’s a good term,” Permear said to her. Her expression didn’t change. “You can’t understand a word I saying, can you?” Still no change, she kept her gaze on Scott, almost patiently waiting for him to say something.

  “Of course, she can’t understand you!” Scott snapped at the ghost. “She’d have kicked your ass if she could. And she’s not my mate.”

  “But you want her to be?” That ghostly grin grew by the second.

  “I’m not answering that question!”

  “You think he’s insane?” Pete said in Matt’s ear with a stage whisper missed by nobody in the room.

  “I think insane is a strong word,” Matt said. “Scott, none of us can hear whatever you think you’re hearing. And…” He looked up at Pete. “Your turn.”

  “Okay, maybe you’ve been working too hard,” Pete said, unable to suppress the smile. “As much as I never thought I’d use those words about you. It’s not uncommon to crack under strain…”

  “Want me to crack him under strain?” Permear inquired. “I could rip his brains out… Apparently, I good at that.” He flexed his smoky fingers. “Pro.”

  “No!” Scott quickly said. He felt like he needed to put his foot down quickly before this all got out of hand. Permear looked like he wouldn’t take kindly to being told what to do, regardless he needed to try and at least exert some sort of authority and fast. “No more brain ripping.”

  “Yeah what was with that?” Matt asked. “Seemed a bit of a violent way to end the bout.”

  “Aww, he squeamish?” Permear asked. “Can I kill birds and throw them at him?”

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Scott demanded, shaking his head violently. “Don’t do that.”

  “Okay, be like that then,” Matt replied. “Only asking.”

  “Not you, Perme… Oh forget it. That ghost has a bit of a strong personality. He thought it was the best idea to win. I didn’t tell him to do it.”

  “Oh yeah, blame the ghost.” Permear sounded insulted. “That always works. Not. Ha, you sound crazy! Woo-woo crazy-crazy!” He started doing a little dance, spinning around on one leg, letting out woo-ing sounds every few moments as he did it.

  “What the hells is he doing now?” Pete inquired, staring at the ghost with some sort of fascination that Scott found amusing if he was honest. Admittedly it was weird but it wasn’t that strange.

  “Think he’s dancing,” Mia said. Permear nodded in agreement, winked at her. Scott saw the flush in her cheeks, the smile light up her face. “Think he likes me.”

  “Think I can see why you do,” Permear mused, giving Scott a sideways look. “She pretty nice. Don’t like those two though. They strange.”

  “Ah give them a break,” Scott said. “They’re not that bad. That’s Mia, that’s Pete and that’s Matt. And this is Permear. My new spirit. Apparently.”

  “Yo,” Matt said. The ghost looked at him for a moment then shook his head dismissively, muttering dark musings about the audacity of people who dared speak to him.

  It was unfortunate really, Scott thought with a grimace as he stared at Permear. He could hear the ghost speak, it would appear but everyone else remained strangely blank. Maybe it’d come in handy someday. Right now, he couldn’t see it.

  “Hey, all conversations are best when nobody else hears them, bagmeat,” Permear laughed, the comment jerking Scott up out of his thoughts.

  “What?! Oh, that’s not fair. You can hear my thoughts as well?”

  “Well yeah. You and I. We connected now. I deep inside you. I be yours and you be mine.”

  “Oh gods… You make it sound so seedy.” Trying to put his mind off it, Scott took a fresh crystal from his pocket, glanced it over to check it was fine. It looked okay. It looked better than okay. It looked like the flawless specimen that he would have expected. He handed it to Pete. “This look okay to you?”

  “What sounds seedy?” Matt inquired. “You two aren’t having a private discussion about my sister, are you?” He sounded outraged. Scott ignored him, instead looking at Pete as he shook his head. Permear stared at Matt for ten seconds that felt like an eternity while he did, eventually forcing the younger caller to look away.

  “Looks fine. Can’t see any problems with it. Matt?” He held the crystal up for him and Matt took it, givi
ng it a once over with an appraising eye. His conclusion was the same as Pete’s, offering up the opinion that the crystal was perfectly fine to be used. As was Mia’s, he asked her last.

  “Want me to look at it?” Permear offered. “It won’t work you know.”

  “Quiet you,” Scott said as he took focus and pressed the crystal against the ghost’s head, exhaling and inhaling shallowly to keep his control going, using his will to draw the spirit into the crystal. “And stay still.”

  He gave his friends a nervous grin as he clamped his hand shut around the settled stone. “That should do it. That should let us talk in private. Come on, I know you’re all thinking it about me.”

  He raised an eyebrow when nobody spoke up. “Come on? Nobody? Nothing about me acting like a crazy person. Believe me, I can hear him speak. He’s insane. Dangerously so. Or possibly just a little maladjusted. I don’t know.”

  “You know something?” Pete asked. “I think you might have wasted your time asking Al Noorland to build that particle barrier.”

  Scott groaned at that thought, letting his head hang down. His hand burned a little, he tried to shake it off. “I’d forgotten about that as well. Maybe he’ll have seen the bout and drawn the conclusion I don’t need it any more. Maybe he’s not spent much time on it. Maybe…”

  “Look on the bright side though,” Mia said. “At least the cost for it wasn’t too high. I mean, a quick bout with him… That feels quite cheap to me.”

  Matt laughed at that. “You managed to swap a bout for a working particle barrier? Good show, Scott. Nice work. That’s ridiculously balanced in your favour. Those things are awesome if you’re ghost hunting.”

  “Which I’m not anymore…” He couldn’t hold it any longer, Scott let out a yelp as he put the crystal down on the ground, the steam rising off it as it sat there for several moments. The temperature in the corridor rose a few degrees.

  “I think I really need to get that thing checked out,” he muttered, a mere few seconds before the crystal shattered under the force of the heat and Permear rose out of the broken fragments, shaking himself off.

  “Who you calling a thing?” he inquired. “That species-ist… Or something. I dunno.”

  “I don’t think there’s need for this,” Permear said, giving the four of them a sad look from inside the chamber. Even with his incorporeal abilities, he wouldn’t be able to get out of there. The SEC’s were impenetrable, even to ghosts. Once you were in, you didn’t get out. Spiritual Examination Chambers. There was something about the look the ghost gave them, something almost human in the expression. Scott tried to look away but couldn’t. He felt a shudder of amusement ripple through him from the ghost as if he were saying you don’t get off that easy boyo. “I mean, I really don’t.”

  “You sure you don’t hear that?” Scott asked the technician, a bored looking Vazaran with oversized glasses and a lab coat just that little bit too small for his girth. His expression of ennui didn’t change.

  “Hear what, sir?”

  “I thought not,” Scott said. “I’m not hearing things, guys. You know that right?”

  “I know that maybe you believe you think you’re hearing things,” Pete said. “And that usually boils down to crazy person in my book.”

  “Oh, hang on for a moment,” Scott said acerbically. “I just remember. I mistook you for someone whose opinion I actually give a crap about.”

  “You asked a question, I gave you an answer,” Pete said. “Don’t shoot the messenger because you don’t like what the note says.”

  They’d found themselves in the Spirit Regulation Building, a structure just off the currently-under-repair ICCC building that had avoided most of the fire damage following the attack a week ago. This place filled a special function, equal parts hospital, equal parts diagnostic laboratory, equal parts modification technology outlet.

  Permear had kicked up a fuss about going into the chamber, Scott had had to use all his skill to try and coax him into the confines of it. And still it hadn’t been enough, he’d run off screaming in defiance. At least until he’d suddenly reappeared right in front of Scott, much to the surprise of them all. He’d tried to run off again, this time they’d watched as he’d gotten about twenty feet away and then faded from sight, returning to the same spot.

  “This is just humiliating,” the ghost had grumbled, reluctantly stomping into the chamber and wearing his sorrowful face as the door slammed shut. He beat a palm against the door, letting a pained little ouch escape him. Scott rolled his eyes. “I’m going to find some way of making you regret this, you know. You’re going to regret it! Regret it I say!”

  The one-sided conversation had continued in much the same vein until the scan had finished, an aurora coloured beam shining over Permear several times and from many different angles. More than once he let out a huff and a look of intense savagery that unsettled Scott more than he wanted to admit.

  It wasn’t uncommon to use these places to get specs on a newly acquired spirit, to find out what they were capable of. The readout that was handed to Scott was on a par with most of the other ones he’d ever looked at, same layout, same text and same dry language.

  “What’s it say?” Pete asked with interest. “Anything unusual.”

  Scott barked out a laugh. “Get this. Subject is deceased. Categorised as ghost-slash-spectral-slash-non-corporeal. And I needed a machine to tell me that.”

  “Can you let me out yet?” Permear asked. “I need to be let free to spread my wings.”

  “You don’t have wings,” Scott replied absentmindedly. “Or I would.”

  “If I flap my arms and hoot like an owl, will you believe me?” Permear asked. “If not, it’s discrimination. I get someone on you. Hoot! Hoot! I will!”

  “Let him out,” Scott said, glancing over to the technician. “Please. He won’t shut up until you do.”

  That same strange look but the tech obliged. Probably bloody should be obliging given the fee he was paying for the run-up on Permear here. The ghost certainly had a spring in his step as he exited the chamber. “Some spooky good hearing you got there, buddy.”

  “And this guy smells of goat,” Permear said, looking at the tech. “Think he eats it or just bathes in its blood? I don’t know.”

  Scott ignored him, continued to run his eyes over the readout on the pad in front of him. Subject currently attached to Caller ID 14051991. Yeah, that was his number. He thought it was anyway. Sounded right. Had to be. Body composition, three tenths carbon monoxide, two tenths charcoal smog, half ectoplasm. Sounded about right again. Ghosts used ectoplasm to keep themselves held together, make themselves visible.

  The other stuff was interesting. None of that stuff was particularly good for the lungs. He didn’t have any specific knowledge about chemicals but he knew that much. Something to keep in mind. Subject displays strong gravitational fluctuations. May be able to manipulate them. He’d seen the void inside. Never been that close to a ghost before. Maybe they all were like that. Either way it was something he could use. Potential power levels unknown… Oh that was helpful. Subject displays stronger than normal electrical synaptic ability…

  “What does that mean?” he asked, glancing over at the tech. If he had a name, it wasn’t revealing itself any time soon. He wore no name tag. “About the synaptic ability…”

  “Synapses are in the brain, they’re the bits that enable you to think, to feel, to communicate. On most spirits, they’re a lot lower than human but slightly higher than you’d expect from a creature in the wild. Like maybe a part of the caller is rubbing off on them. That’s the theory.”

  The tech shrugged. “On your ghost here, it’s a lot stronger. It’s on the smart path. Not quite human but… I don’t know, I think there’s certain elements missing from your ghost that you’d find in a human.”

  “Such as?”

  “Conscience. Restraint. Fear. These are all specific notions, argue about nature or nurture all you like but they each plot the
ir own specific path through the brain. They leave their own patterns be they chemical. Every new experience opens new synapses, literally changes who you are. This ghost is doing the same thing. I’ve not seen anything like it before.”

  As he said it, Scott thought back to the bout, not just some of the things that he’d seen but some of what he’d heard as well and he could see it. It disturbed him a little. Still Permear couldn’t hurt him. If they truly were bonded, then the ghost was as much part of him as he was Permear.

  “And what does that mean about the power levels?”

  “Is this the ghost you used in your bout, Mr Taylor?”

  “Yeah.”

  “A veek is a ferocious opponent, would you not say? Tough, savage, uncompromising?”

  “Sounds like a veek,” Pete said. “And that ghost did for Saarth’s pretty easily. Too easily.”

  “Schooled it, I’d say,” Matt offered, smacking his fist into his palm. “Beat its ass. She didn’t see it coming.” The technician nodded in agreement.

  “There you have it then. It means that its potential power levels are difficult to gauge at this moment in time. They could be exponentially many times what we’ve already seen.”

  “Wait, are you telling us he happened onto a super powerful ghost entirely by chance?” Pete sounded a little outraged by the suggestion. Never had Scott heard the words ‘lucky’ and ‘bastard’ inflexed into the tone of speaking without them being uttered. This day was already turning out to be most informative in more ways than one.

  “I wouldn’t put it in those words.” The tech considered it for a moment before shrugging his shoulders. “I’d say that everything happens for a reason. Every action has a reaction. Nothing in nature is this powerful by accident.”

  “Damn straight baby, I’m number one unique.”

  “Just like everyone else,” Scott muttered out the corner of his mouth to the ghost, giving him a sardonic look. “Sorry. And why can’t I keep him in the container crystal? He’s broken two already.”