Ghost of a Dream g-3

by Simon R. Green

  “If it is alive, it’s not any kind of life we could hope to understand,” JC said briskly. “Or would want to, probably. Question is—what forms of life might the train have brought back with it?”

  “Really not liking the implications of that,” said Happy. He frowned suddenly, his whole face screwing up. “And I’m picking up something really nasty, now. Not a Light or a Voice this time, a feeling…like sticking your hand into a mess of corruption. It’s the carriages, JC! Look at the carriages…Dear God, what’s happened to the passengers?”

  They all moved slowly down the platform, peering through the distorted glass of the carriage windows they passed. A strange light blazed through the windows, like the blue-green phosphorescence of underwater grottos. People clustered together inside the carriages, staring out at the world they’d come back to; but they didn’t act like people any more. Their eyes were empty, faces twisted with wild, inhuman emotions. Driven mad, every one of them, or perhaps beyond madness into something else, through being trapped for so many years in a place never meant for humankind. They beat and pattered against the closed windows with flat hands as though they’d forgotten what windows were, or what hands were for. They were all desperate to get out, crawling and swarming over each other like oversized beetles, staring out at a world they no longer recognised, with blank, insect eyes.

  “What happened to them?” said Laurie. “What made these people…like this?”

  “The Ghost Caller,” said JC. His voice was flat and harsh, with rigidly suppressed rage. “It’s been active, Calling, all the time it was Away. The passengers in the carriages were all killed, either by the abrupt transition to the Other Place or because they couldn’t survive in the alien conditions they found there. But the Ghost Caller wouldn’t let their spirits depart. Their souls have been trapped in their dead bodies all this time, driven insane by horrors the human mind was never meant to cope with. These are dead bodies possessed by mad ghosts.”

  “How can you know all that?” said Laurie.

  “I seem to feel it,” said JC, a bit dreamily. “Don’t you?”

  “We can’t leave them like this,” said Laurie. “It isn’t right.”

  “Of course we won’t leave them like this,” said JC, immediately all business again. “Helping the restless dead find peace is all part of our job description. But the only way to free these poor souls is to smash or destroy the Ghost Caller. Then they can pass on to their proper places, in the Hereafter.”

  “Hereafter?” said Laurie. “You mean, Heaven and Hell?”

  “Don’t look at me,” said Happy. “Way above my pay grade. We have enough trouble coping with the Here and Now.”

  “I’m an agnostic,” said Melody. “Mostly in self-defence.”

  “What matters is sending these lost souls on,” JC said firmly. “So they can be made whole and sane again.”

  “I’m more concerned with what happens if the passengers get out of these carriages,” said Happy. “Those windows don’t look particularly strong, or secure.”

  “If they get out?” said JC. “Nothing good, I should imagine. They have enough sense left to know a great wrong has been done them and enough anger to want revenge…”

  “You know,” said Melody, “this would be a really good time for you to produce one of those really powerful and utterly forbidden weapons that you carry about your person, the ones that you’re not supposed to have.”

  “The Boss made me give them all up, after the last case,” said JC. “In fact, she was most insistent about it. Had me strip-searched, and everything. And you really don’t want to know what the ‘and everything’ involved.”

  “She took all your weapons?” said Happy. “And you’re only telling us now?”

  “She’s been keeping a very close eye on me,” said JC. “I’ve had to be very careful. I need the Carnacki Institute’s resources to help me search for Kim.”

  “Look, do you have any nasty weapons about you or not?” said Melody.

  “Not as such,” said JC.

  “I want to go home,” said Happy loudly.

  “Excuse me,” Laurie said firmly. “But I have to ask…is this a real train or a ghost train? I mean, is it really, physically, here?”

  “Good question, Mr. Laurie,” said JC. “To which the official answer is, damned if I know. It certainly seems solid enough…Best to treat it as though it’s real, right up to the point where we decide it’s more useful to treat it as though it isn’t. We are nothing if not flexible in this business, in the face of utter horror.”

  “We have to find the machine,” Melody said stubbornly. “The Ghost Caller. We have to shut it down.”

  “Dear Melody, practical as ever!” JC said cheerfully. “I love it when a plan comes together, and all the options narrow to a point where decisions become inevitable. And, given that the light blazing out of the rear carriage is so much stranger and soul-numbingly disturbing than all the others, I think we can safely assume that that…is the machine, in the baggage-car. Mr. Laurie, please stay right where you are, so we don’t have to worry about you. Team Ghost Finders, follow me.”

  “I’m quite happy to stay with Mr. Laurie,” said Happy.

  “What?” said JC. “And miss all the fun?”

  “Fun is overrated.”

  “You stand a much better chance of surviving if you stick with me,” said JC.

  “Right with you, boss,” said Happy, miserably.

  “Go, team!” said Melody.

  * * *

  The three of them stuck close together as they moved slowly and cautiously down the platform, maintaining what they hoped was a safe distance from the carriages. Strange phosphorescent lights rose and fell behind the windows as though disturbed by unknown tides. The possessed dead passengers pressed up close against the bulging glass of the windows, crawling over and around each other like so many insane insects. The Ghost Finders did their best not to look at them. Some horrors are harder to bear than others. It wasn’t the passengers’ fault, what had happened to them, what had been done to them; but that didn’t make it any easier to look at. A mad soul is so much harder to consider than a mad mind. Because where sanity runs out, the Outside moves in.

  It made sense to have stuck the Ghost Caller in the baggage-car, at the end of the train, as far-away from the passengers as possible; but in the end it hadn’t made any difference. JC insisted that they all walk the length of the train at a steady pace because it would have been only too easy to lose control and break into a run; and they couldn’t afford to lose control here, in these conditions, not even in the smallest of ways. The light blasting out of the baggage-car’s single grilled window was blindingly bright, incandescent almost beyond bearing, so harsh that even JC had to screw up his altered eyes to deal with it. The station gloom seemed to shrink away from the light as though it was afraid or intimidated. JC found the door to the baggage-car and tried it. Locked, of course, with an immense steel padlock. JC tore the heavy door right off its hinges and threw it aside. He pulled himself up into the new opening and entered the rear carriage. Melody and Happy looked at the thrown-aside door, lying on the platform, looked at each other, then followed JC into the baggage car.

  The light was easier to bear once they got inside, as their eyes adjusted to the new conditions. It only took them a moment to recognise the Ghost Caller. It wasn’t a machine, after all. It was a human corpse, sitting upright in a stiff-backed chair, held firmly in place by a series of heavy leather straps and restraints. Even after so long Away, or perhaps because of it, the body was still perfectly intact. Not a trace of rot or decay, nor any smell of formaldehyde or any other preservative. The three Ghost Finders looked into the set grey face of the dead man and knew him immediately. It was Dr. Emil Todd. The head had been cut open, quite neatly, sawn across above the eyebrows.

  JC, Melody, and Happy moved slowly forward, surrounding the corpse. There was nothing else in the carriage worth looking at. They all leaned in, to look in
side the dead man’s head. There was a brain, but quite clearly it had come from someone else. It slumped to one side, not even close to fitting. A series of brass and copper wires had been threaded through the brain, to hold it in place in the oversized skull. Silver pins protruded from the pink-and-grey matter, set in strange patterns, like a grotesque pincushion. And on top of the truncated head, someone had carefully placed an ornate crown, made of silver, with a dozen human eyeballs set firmly in place at regular intervals, staring unblinkingly out at the world.

  “Okay,” said Happy, breathlessly, “that is seriously creepy, and I have seen more than my fair share of creep.”

  “It’s also a major disappointment,” said Melody. “I was looking forward to examining some glory of steampunk engineering, not this…messed-about abomination. What the hell is this?”

  “That is my body, given in repentance for all the wrong I did,” said a new voice, behind them. They all looked around sharply, and there in the baggage-car with them was the ghost of Dr. Todd. Staring sadly at his own corpse. “This is what I gave up my life for and why I have spent my death here, trying to prevent its return. There were supposed to be protections set in place, to prevent the Ghost Caller from activating. They promised me there would be protections…A defensive circle around the chair, binding Wards and Signs carved into the wooden floor…But they lied.”

  “They?” said JC, carefully.

  “My partners in crime,” said Dr. Todd. His voice was clear, but distant, as though it had to travel some unknowable interval to reach them. “Let their worthless names be forgotten by history. I let them kill me, and make use of my body, to create this wonder…and repair my reputation. I never meant to cheat people. When I started out, I wanted to give comfort to the bereaved. But I was tempted—by the money, and the fame, and the women…and I fell. This was to be my recompense. A device to summon ghosts, real ghosts…To do what I could not.

  “I sat down in that chair, and they tightened the straps around me. A terrible experience, to sit down, knowing you will never stand up again. Almost as bad as having the top of my head sawn off. They couldn’t give me opiates, you see; it would have interfered with the process. I can’t remember if I screamed. I probably did. I passed out long before they cut and levered my brain out of my skull, and I died. Imagine my surprise when I discovered I was still there, as a ghost. I watched as they removed my brain, according to my instructions and specifications, and replaced it with the stolen brain of Oliver Lando, a genuine medium, with quite amazing psychic powers. The man who’d replaced me in the public affection, with his very successful tour of the provinces.

  “I could have chosen someone else, some other genuine medium; but he was so very powerful…and I regret to say I could be a very petty man, back when I was alive. He was the real thing, you see: no tricks, no showmanship, a genuine Voice for the dead. Everything I’d aspired to be. I like to think he would have approved of what we made from his stolen brain. After I had him murdered.”

  “What’s that thing on his head?” said Melody.

  “That, dear lady, is the Crown of Tears,” said Dr. Todd. “My associates brought the design to me, the one thing I needed to be sure my Ghost Caller would work. Twelve human eyes, removed from the heads of six genuine psychics. I insisted we take only their eyes, not their lives. I saw no need to be cruel. Twelve psychic eyes, in the proper setting, to amplify the power of Lando’s brain, boosted by what was done to my body. Part engineering, part magic, part…

  “I had help. That’s all you need to know.”

  “Your Ghost Caller is still operating,” said Happy. “I can hear its false Voice, see its rotten Light. It’s still summoning ghosts, right now. And they will come like moths to a consuming flame. You can’t let this go on. Your…device must be shut down.”

  “I don’t know how,” said Dr. Todd. “I never did. Operation of the marvellous device was to be left to my associates as they toured the country, in all the biggest theatres. Bringing back the dearly departed, to give comfort to those they’d left behind.”

  “You thought the authorities would allow a corpse to be exhibited, and call up ghosts?” said Melody. “No wonder Julien Advent shut you down.”

  The ghost smiled thinly. “Is that what it says in the history books? No. My associates heard he was coming and made haste to load the device onto this train. To get away and hide, and make plans for the future. They didn’t know I was still there, watching. I’d seen how powerful my device was and how much damage it could, would, cause. So I used the last of my power over the Ghost Caller to send the train Away. And I have stood guard in this place ever since, preventing its return. Until now.”

  “Maybe we should tear this…thing apart,” said Happy. “You said there aren’t any protections.”

  “It can’t be broken,” said Dr. Todd. “I had it made too well. It will…defend itself. And I can’t help you. I’ve been dead too long, worn too thin…That isn’t my body any more. Not a body at all, really. An infernal machine; and no human hand can undo what I have wrought. God damn me.”

  “Lucky I’m here, then,” JC said cheerfully. “Because I’m not merely human and haven’t been for some time now.”

  He reached inside the dead man’s head, thrust his fingers deep into the soft grey tissues, and ripped the brain right out of the skull, along with all its brass and copper and silver attachments. He threw the brain on the floor and stamped on it hard. Pink-and-grey matter exploded under his foot. Melody and Happy retreated quickly, making loud sounds of distress and disgust at what had splattered over their shoes. The ghost of Dr. Todd looked on blankly as JC tore the Crown of Tears from the dead head and broke the silver frame in his strong hands. He turned it inside out, so that the human eyes were all staring at each other, then carefully replaced the Crown on the empty head. JC stepped back and smiled about him easily.

  “Time to leave, I think. Our work here is at an end.”

  * * *

  Out on the platform again, the three Ghost Finders looked hopefully around them. Evening had descended into night. Moonlight dappled the length of the platform. Eerie phosphorescent glows still spilled out of the carriage windows, interrupted here and there by the shadows of human shapes moving in inhuman ways.

  “Nothing’s changed,” said Happy, nervously.

  “It will,” JC said confidently. “Ripping out the stolen brain and reversing the Crown? Bound to do the job. Symbolic logic, very big in magic circles.” He turned to the ghost of Dr. Todd, trudging silently along beside them. “The rest is up to you, Doctor. If you really want to put a stop to all the horrors you’re responsible for.”

  “You know I do,” said Dr. Todd. “I gave my life to creating them, so it is only proper I give my death to ending them. What do you want me to do?”

  “I need you to re-enter your old body for a while and make it yours again,” said JC, as kindly as he could. “You can do that now Lando’s brain is gone, and the Crown of Tears has been turned around. Repossess your old body, and you’ll be able to bring the Ghost Caller, or what’s left of it, under your control.”

  “Yes,” said Dr. Todd. “A fitting punishment for a foolish old man. Wait here, please. There are some things…that should be done in private.”

  He disappeared abruptly, and all three Ghost Finders jumped. They’d got too used to the ghost of Dr. Todd still doing things in human ways. And then they all looked back, as the light blasting out of the baggage-car’s single grilled window shut off abruptly. There was a pause, then the body of Dr. Todd stepped slowly and stiffly out of the rear carriage and down onto the platform. The body walked slowly along the platform towards them as though every step, every movement, was a conscious effort. Dr. Todd lurched to a halt before the Ghost Finders and worked his dead mouth for a long moment before words finally emerged, dry and dusty and determined.

  “Of course,” he said. “It’s all so clear to me now, what I must do.”

  “Then maybe you’d explain
it to me,” said Happy, testily. “Because I haven’t got a clue what’s going on!”

  The dead lips smiled, briefly. “Time…to go home. The end of every life, and every death. We all get to go home.”

  He strode off down the platform, lurching this way and that, and all the passengers’ heads in all the windows turned to watch him pass. Cracks had appeared in some of the windows; but the passengers seemed to have lost interest in that. Happy leaned in close beside JC.

  “He’s doing something. I can feel it. He’s not the Ghost Caller any more; but he’s still…reaching out, to Something. I think…it’s another weak spot in reality, another door or potential door, but at the other end of the tracks! Talk to me, JC; tell me what’s happening here, or I am leaving!”

  “Where’s your curiosity?” said JC.

  “I had it surgically removed!” said Happy. “It kept getting me into trouble!”

  “It’s true,” Melody said solemnly. “I held his hand while they did it. We keep it in a jar on the mantelpiece now.”

  “Watch, my children,” said JC. “And learn…”

  The dead body of Dr. Todd climbed into the engine cab and started it up again. Steam blew thickly from the chimney-stack, curled up from the great steel wheels, and howled through the whistle. The passengers in the carriages were all utterly still, waiting for something they couldn’t quite bring themselves to believe in. JC stepped forward, took off his sunglasses, and stared down the platform.

  “It’s not a weak spot,” he said, “And it’s not a door. It’s a tunnel. I can see the tunnel; and it’s full of light.”

  Suddenly, there was a tunnel. An exact duplicate of the old brick-lined tunnel-mouth the train had arrived through, but standing at the opposite end of the railway tracks. Full of a warm and inviting light instead of darkness. The train lurched forward, gathering speed, leaving JC and Melody and Happy behind on the platform. The engine roared into the tunnel, steam-whistle blowing triumphantly, and, one by one, the carriages roared into the light after it. The tunnel entrance disappeared after the train; and all the tension in the night was gone. The air was as clear and calm as a summer night after the storm has passed, and all the shadows were only shadows again.