Ghost of a Chance g-1

by Simon R. Green

  JC glanced at Kim, then back at his colleagues. “What’s the matter with my eyes?”

  “They’re glowing,” said Happy. “And not with any kind of light I’ve ever seen. It’s so intense, it’s like looking into a spotlight. Or possibly the headlights of an on-coming car. Those are spooky eyes, JC.”

  “Are you dead?” Melody said abruptly. “Is that why you’re hanging out with a ghost?”

  “Of course he’s not dead!” said Happy. “I’d know if he were dead. This . . . is altogether more disturbing.”

  “But look at how much blood he’s lost!” said Melody. “Look at the state of his marvellous ice-cream suit! It looks like a pack of wild dogs tried to bite it off him.”

  “I have wrestled with demons and defied a god,” said JC. “That kind of thing does take it out of you.”

  “He has,” said Kim. “He really has. And all for me. Isn’t he wonderful?”

  “Hold everything,” said Happy. “You can see us? You’re aware of the world around you? When did that happen?”

  “A lot has happened since we . . . became separated,” said JC. “Kim, allow me to present my friends and colleagues from the Carnacki Institute: Happy Jack Palmer and Melody Chambers. My friends, this is Kim Sterling. Happy . . . what happened to your face? Did someone take a swing at you?”

  “Yes,” said Happy. “I did. But don’t change the subject. What happened to you?”

  “I rescued Kim from the grip of our unseen enemy,” said JC. “And . . . we’re an item now. Don’t ask me how that happened. I think we’re both equally baffled.”

  “And delighted,” said Kim, reproachfully.

  “Oh yes, delighted, absolutely,” said JC. “I was making the point that it rather sneaked up on us when we weren’t looking.”

  “Isn’t it always like that?” said Kim. She smiled sweetly at Happy and Melody. “I’m glad JC has friends. He’s going to need a lot of help and support, now that he has a ghost for a girl-friend.”

  “That’s the spirit,” said JC.

  “Oh you,” said Kim. She elbowed him playfully in the ribs, but her arm passed swiftly through him.

  “I hate new couples,” said Happy. “They’re always so pleased with themselves . . . Look, you’re doing the distraction thing again! What the hell have you been up to, JC? You’ve been blazing inside my head like a sun going supernova! That’s how I was able to find you so quickly. For a while there, you were the most powerful thing in this station.”

  “I fought an army of demons,” said JC. “And I lost. But at the very last moment . . . a Light came out of nowhere and made me strong enough to fight any number of them. It’s gone now, but . . .”

  “It’s still there, in your eyes,” said Melody. “The Light has put its mark on you, JC.”

  “And that is rare, so rare,” said Happy, sounding impressed despite himself.

  “I know!” said JC. “I think it’s another sign of how important all this is. Whatever it is that’s going on down here. Now, what have you been doing while I was away? What happened to the Project agents I left you fighting?”

  “We got away,” said Melody. Her voice was suddenly quiet, and she folded her arms tightly across her chest.

  “They hurt us,” said Happy, staring steadily at JC. “They hurt us bad. We could have used your help.”

  “You left us!” said Melody. “To chase after her.” She couldn’t even bring herself to look at Kim. “You have no idea what they did to us, JC.”

  “I’m sorry,” said JC.

  “I’m sorry,” said Happy, “but you and ghost girl can’t be a couple. You just can’t. You know that, JC.”

  “You said it yourself,” said Melody. “The living must never get emotionally involved with the dead. It’s not fair to either of you. Love is for the living, for people with a stake in the future.”

  “Love conquers all,” murmured Kim. “I heard it in a song, so it must be true.”

  “Not this time,” said Melody. “You may not even have an immediate future. It’s looking more and more as though you’re the focal point of this haunting. The central event that supports everything else.”

  “Which means,” Happy said slowly, “that the only way to be sure of stopping all this . . . may involve putting you to rest, Kim. Our other-dimensional Intruder is using you to maintain its hold on the material plane. Unless we remove you, and break his hold, he’ll grow stronger and stronger, spreading his horror show across the whole of London. Maybe even further . . .”

  “We’ll exorcise that bridge when we come to it,” JC said cheerfully. “I have a plan, a scheme, and a whole bunch of really nasty dirty tricks to try out on our unseen enemy. But first things first. Kim, you’re the only one to have had direct contact with the Intruder. And your dead eyes can see the greater world far more clearly than ours. What can you tell us?”

  “Not much,” said Kim. “I’m still getting used to being a ghost. The more I talk with you and your friends, the more awake I feel, the more me . . . But the more human I feel, the harder it is to interpret what I’m seeing and feeling. As though being human . . . limits me. I’ve never seen your Intruder, never heard its voice. But I seem to have this sense of . . . something wild. Something horribly powerful, beyond the laws and limitations of this small world.”

  “Not really what I wanted to hear,” said Happy. Melody ignored him, intent on Kim.

  “What’s the last thing you remember?” she said bluntly. “From when you were alive?”

  Kim frowned, as though trying to remember something that had happened long ago. “There was a phone call, early in the morning. From my agent, telling me I had to come in for a special audition. A really big part, he said, that could make my career. I started to ask for details, but he gave me the address and the time, and told me to hurry. I was so excited . . . I came down into the Underground, waited for my train to come, then someone stabbed me in the back. I never even saw his face. I didn’t understand what had happened, at first. The pain, and falling, and the platform rising to hit me in the face. There were people all around me, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying. And then . . . I was back standing on the platform, completely alone, waiting for a train that never came. I’d still be standing there if JC hadn’t come and found me . . .”

  “This is why I never get anywhere with women,” said Happy. “I can’t stand this soppy sentimental stuff.”

  “Trust me,” said JC. “That’s not the only reason.”

  “But . . . how does her death tie in with everything that’s happened here?” said Melody. “And why has the Intruder made such a point of using her?”

  “Because she’s important to me?” said JC.

  Melody sniffed. “Not everything is about you, JC.”

  “Look me in the eye and say that,” said JC.

  “Sounds like necromancy to me,” Happy said quickly. “Murder magic. Energy generated by the destruction of a life and the loss of all the things that person might have done. Lot of energy in murder. You were lured down here just to be killed, Kim.”

  “I want my machines!” said Melody. “Theories are all very well, but I need hard, solid facts to work with! I have got to run some tests on you, Kim. I’ve never encountered such a conscious, interactive, alive-seeming post-mortem presence.”

  She walked quickly around Kim, several times, examining the ghost girl from all angles, much to Kim’s quiet amusement.

  “Most ghosts run in circles,” said Melody, at least partly to herself. “Endlessly repeating old actions, old emotions, significant events. They don’t react to, or interact with, the real world because they can’t see it. Quite literally lost in their own worlds. The future isn’t important to them because they’re locked in the past.” She turned abruptly to study JC. “And I’m dying to put you under the microscope and see what makes you tick. You’ve changed . . . and I don’t mean only those highly unsettling eyes of yours. I want to know what hosting the Light has done to you. There’s a
whole series of serious scientific papers in you, JC, and I want my name on them.”

  “You’ve got to do something about those eyes, JC,” said Happy. “They’re too disturbing for mere mortals like us. How about a nice set of designer shades?”

  He produced a pair of sunglasses that might have been borderline fashionable, several years previously, and handed them to JC. He slipped them on with a certain amount of self-consciousness.

  “Okay, that’s weird,” said Melody. “The glow is actually shining through the sunglasses.”

  “Well, yes,” said Happy. “But it is more bearable.”

  “Oh yes,” said Melody. “Definitely more bearable.”

  JC looked at Kim. “How do I look? Seriously?”

  “Well, the shades do help detract from the somewhat shredded suit,” said Kim. “But to be brutally honest . . . you look like a second-rate spy who’s been dragged through a car wash, backwards.”

  “I can live with that,” said JC. “Now, let us concentrate on more important problems. We need more information on our unseen Intruder. Happy, crank up your amazing mind and scan Kim. See if you can pick up any traces left behind from contact with our enemy.”

  “I can try.” Happy smiled diffidently at Kim. “Don’t worry; you won’t feel a thing. I’m going to take a quick poke around through your recent past.”

  “Go ahead,” said Kim. “I’ve always been pretty transparent. Little ghost humour there. Don’t let me spook you.”

  Happy scowled, concentrating, all his attention fixed on Kim, then he blushed suddenly and backed away. “Ah. Yes. I see. Sorry!”

  “What’s the matter?” said Kim. “I didn’t feel anything.”

  “I did,” said Happy. “In fact, I feel in definite need of a cold shower, and a lie-down with an instructional book. Sorry, JC . . . All I’m picking up from her is, well, love. Her love for you. Her feelings are really quite . . . overwhelming. Can’t see anything else through it. I haven’t felt so embarrassed since I walked in on Great-uncle Sebastian and the two parlour-maids. Haven’t felt the same about feather-dusters ever since. I’m babbling, aren’t I? Don’t mind me. I’ll go stand over there by myself and think pure thoughts for a while if that’s all right with everyone.”

  “Stand firm, man,” said JC. “You still have work to do. Scan me. See if you can identify the source of the Light that saved me.”

  “You don’t want much,” grumbled Happy. He considered JC thoughtfully for a long moment. “Hmmm . . .”

  “What does that mean?” said JC. “Hmmm . . . what?”

  “It would appear,” Happy said carefully, “that in the hour of your greatest need, something very high up in the pecking order of the Good reached down from the afterworlds and touched you, briefly, with its power.”

  “Then why are you looking so concerned?” said Kim, drifting forward to stand beside JC. “Isn’t that a good thing?”

  “It’s never a good thing when the Outer Forces start taking a direct interest in you,” Happy said grimly. “Unless you want to end up as a conscript foot-soldier in their never-ending war between Light and Dark, Law and Chaos, Good and Evil.”

  “Well,” said JC, after a moment, “who knows? Maybe I’m officer material.”

  And that was when Natasha Chang and Erik Grossman burst onto the platform, guns blazing. Once again, it was only Happy’s last-moment apprehension of danger that allowed the Institute agents to survive. Natasha’s mental shields were powerful enough to hide both her and Erik’s approach, but the presence of such a strong mental shield was enough to alert Happy’s well-nourished sense of paranoia. He yelled a warning and was actually diving for cover even as Natasha and Erik made their entrance through the archway. JC and Melody were off and moving even as the first bullets were fired.

  Kim stayed where she was, lacking both Institute training and self-preservation instincts. She looked confusedly about as bullets punched harmlessly through her ghostly form. Melody threw herself behind a vending machine, produced her machine-pistol from somewhere about her person, and returned fire. Natasha ducked back into the archway and kept up a steady barrage on the vending machine, which jumped and shuddered as bullets slammed into its steel side.

  Happy peered out from behind a row of metal seats and hit Erik with a powerful mental probe, freezing him in place. Natasha spotted her partner’s plight immediately but ignored it, concentrating all her mental powers on Melody, to make her miss. Puffs of plaster flew through the air as Melody’s bullets pock-marked the archway, but not one of them came anywhere near Natasha. Emboldened, she stepped forward and drew a bead on Melody. And that was when JC stepped out of the shadows, whipped off his sunglasses, and fixed the startled Natasha with his gaze. She froze in place, the gun slipping from her nerveless fingers. And then she sank abruptly to her knees, crying out and covering her eyes with both hands. Unable to face what she’d seen in JC’s new eyes.

  “What have you done to yourself?” Natasha said sickly. “You’re not human any more!”

  “I don’t think you’re in any position to judge,” said JC.

  * * *

  Natasha and Erik were made to sit with their backs to the wall, hands clasped together on top of their heads. Neither of them gave any trouble. Between Happy’s telepathy and JC’s eyes, they felt seriously outgunned. They both looked dazed, and a little disturbed, at how easily they’d been taken down. Natasha wouldn’t so much as look in JC’s direction even after he put his sunglasses back on. He stood over the Project agents, frowning thoughtfully. Happy and Melody stood on either side of him, doing their best to look dangerous. Melody was the most successful at that because she still held her machine-pistol at the ready.

  “Talk to me,” JC said coldly. “No use playing dumb. I know who you are; I’ve read your files at the Institute. Natasha Chang and Erik Grossman, field agents for the Crowley Project. So what are you doing here?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know,” said Erik, but his heart wasn’t in it.

  “Happy,” said JC, “see what you can dig out of them. No need to be gentle about it.”

  “Way ahead of you,” said Happy. “I can’t see much; the Project’s installed really good shields. Still, this pair isn’t exactly A team material; they operate on our level, more or less.” He smiled nastily at Natasha. “Don’t think you can keep me out forever, though. I already know things about you. You’re a soul eater, you nasty little cow. And your fat friend tortures animals. For fun.”

  “For science!” said Erik. But he still wouldn’t look up.

  “What are you doing down here?” said JC. “What’s your mission? Talk to me; or I’ll take my shades off again.”

  “This is all the Project’s fault, isn’t it?” snapped Happy. “One of your Workings gone wrong! Your higher-ups let something nasty into our world, and you were sent down here to clean up the mess and wipe off the fingerprints.”

  “No!” said Natasha. She looked up at Happy, avoiding JC. “We’re not here for the haunting; we’re here for you. Vivienne MacAbre put a death mark on all three of you for being too good at your job. We don’t like competition. Your deaths were supposed to send a message to the Institute. No-one told us what was really going on down here, or we wouldn’t have come. We’re no more fit to deal with a mess of this magnitude than you are.”

  “If you didn’t know what was going on down here,” Happy said craftily, “then you can’t be sure the Project isn’t behind it, can you? Hah! Got you there!”

  “If the Project is in any way involved, it would have been decided at a much higher level than we have access to,” Erik said tiredly. “All field agents are mushrooms, you know that, kept in the dark and fed shit on a regular basis. How do you know this isn’t the result of some major cock-up by your higher-ups?”

  “Because we don’t do things like that,” said Melody.

  “Yeah, right,” said Erik.

  Happy looked at JC. “Sounds like they were dropped in the deep end, unarmed a
nd unprepared, just like us. If you believe them, which I prefer not to, on general principles.” He glared at Natasha. “And don’t you think I’ve forgotten what you did to me, bitch. What you made me do. I can still taste blood in my mouth and feel loose teeth with my tongue. I should smack you a good one right in the mouth, so you can see what it feels like. Except that I’m a better man than that. I am. I really am. Oh the hell I am . . .”

  He punched her in the mouth. Her head swung round under the impact. Happy stood over her, breathing hard. And then Natasha turned her face back and sneered at him.

  “Is that it? You punch like a junkie.”

  Happy went to hit her again. JC grabbed his arm, stopping him. Happy glared at JC, meeting his gaze unflinchingly.

  “Why not, JC? Give me one good reason.”

  “Because we’re supposed to be better than that.”

  Happy pulled his arm free. JC didn’t try to hold on to him. Happy sniffed. “You might be, JC. I’m still working on it.”

  “You don’t know what they did to him, JC,” said Melody. “What they did to us when you weren’t there to protect us. That little toad used a taser on me. Over and over again. And laughed while he did it.” Melody’s machine-pistol moved closer to Erik’s head, as though pulling Melody’s hand behind it. “You have no idea how much it hurt, JC. My gut muscles still ache. You don’t know how helpless and violated he made me feel while he hurt me. Do we really need both of them alive, JC?”

  “Yes,” he said. “If you feel the need to do something, you can search them both for weapons. Feel free to be exceedingly thorough.”

  “Sounds good to me,” said Melody.

  She stuck the barrel of her pistol under Natasha’s chin and made her stand up. Then she made Natasha turn around and lean forward against the wall, with all her weight on her hands. Melody searched Natasha from head to toe, with a carefully impersonal roughness. She found a whole bunch of hidden pockets and concealed pouches, and soon a small pile of assorted weapons and devices had formed at Natasha’s feet. Melody checked her over twice, to be sure, then stood back and allowed Natasha to turn around. The Project agent looked at the pile on the ground and smiled disarmingly.