Forces from Beyond

by Green, Simon R.

  “Please be careful what you touch,” he said. “And don’t try to open anything without asking me first. Everything here is protected, on all kinds of levels.”

  He used his skeleton key to open a few of the display cases, to show off their contents. Starting with the Hand of Glory from the Brighton convention.

  “How did that get here so quickly?” said Latimer. “You haven’t had time to get here and back again.”

  “I know some useful short cuts,” said JC.

  “You mean Kim does,” said Melody.

  “There are some advantages to having a ghost as your girl-friend,” said JC.

  “You do know that particular Hand of Glory was made from a Drood’s hand?” said Latimer.

  JC looked at the Hand with new interest before placing it carefully back in its case again.

  “Weaponised Drood body parts,” he said. “It doesn’t bear thinking about. I didn’t know they could be hurt like that.”

  “They like to keep such information quiet,” said Latimer.

  “But you know,” said Chang.

  “Of course,” said Latimer.

  “Perhaps I should send the Hand back to them,” said JC. “I could use being owed a favour by the high-and-mighty Drood family. You know, I once had a Hand of Glory made from a monkey’s paw. Now that was seriously powerful.”

  “And utterly forbidden!” said Chang. “Banned by every civilised country and a few that don’t even come close! I’ve always wanted one . . .”

  “Gone now,” said JC. “I used it up taking down a train full of demons in the London Underground.”

  “And just like that, the world feels so much safer,” said Melody.

  JC carefully opened one of the crates. Its contents turned out to be row upon row of glass phials, full of various enigmatic liquids, resting carefully side by side in protective packaging. JC took out one phial and held it up to the light. The colourless liquid glowed serenely.

  “The Universal Nostrum,” JC said reverently. “The ultimate healing draught. No-one ever talks about what goes into it because if people knew, you couldn’t get anyone to drink it. Very good at repairing physical damage.”

  He unwound the copper wire holding the cork in place, knocked back the liquid, and pulled a face at the taste. He shuddered briefly, then smiled slowly as all the wounds he’d taken from the Hound healed in a moment. He stretched happily and tossed the empty phial back into the crate. He hadn’t realised how tired he’d been until he didn’t have to fight the pain off any longer. He selected another phial and went over to Happy. Melody quickly came back to join them.

  “I don’t know if this will help,” said JC. “But it’s got to be worth a try.”

  “Of course,” said Happy. “You know me; I’ll try anything once. And twice if it’s free.”

  His voice was firm, but Melody still had to hold his hand steady so he could drink the stuff. Happy handed the empty phial back to JC and nodded politely.

  “Oh yes,” he said. “That feels much better.”

  He wasn’t fooling anyone; but they all pretended to believe him. JC put the empty phial back in the crate and closed it again. He didn’t want Happy to see how angry he was. He’d really hoped the Nostrum would work. He’d been counting on it. He was tired of seeing Happy look so bad, tired of having to make allowances for him. He considered leaving Happy behind or sending him home; if only so he wouldn’t have to worry about the telepath when he had so many other more important things on his mind. But he couldn’t do that. Happy wouldn’t be safe anywhere now, away from the group. Any number of interested parties would risk anything to grab him, so they could use him to put pressure on JC and Latimer. And if Happy went, Melody would insist on going with him; and there went the team. Besides . . . JC just knew that at some point he was going to need Happy. To do the things only he could do.

  “This is all very interesting,” said Latimer, “not to mention incriminating; but what exactly are we doing here?”

  “I came here looking for something to give me an advantage,” said JC.

  He opened another crate with a handy crow-bar, revealing dozens of assorted guns and boxes of ammunition.

  “You didn’t pick those up on any Ghost Finders case,” said Chang, looking the weapons over with an expert eye.

  “I wasn’t always a Ghost Finder,” said JC. He smiled at Melody. “Help yourself.”

  She was already rummaging through the contents, grinning broadly. “You know how to show a girl a good time, JC!”

  He left her to it and used his skeleton key to open a small, black-lacquered box. Inside was another box, made from intricately carved rosewood, that he had to open with a combination code and a muttered password from a language no-one spoke any more. He looked at the contents for a long moment.

  “This . . . is what I came here for,” he said slowly. “Something really special. You’ve heard about genetic engineering—where they make goldfish that glow, or a mouse with a human ear on its back. This is the supernatural community’s equivalent.”

  Latimer and Chang leaned in close for a better look. Inside the box, nestled in tissue paper, was a small furry object not much bigger than a man’s thumb. They both looked at JC.

  “It’s a rabbit’s foot,” said JC. “One that has been crossed with lucky heather and a four-leafed clover. And a few other things, best not described out loud. It might not look like much; but supposedly in a time of troubles, this can change the odds completely in its owner’s favour. Just the once. I’ve never had a good enough reason to use it, until now.”

  “That’s it?” said Chang. “That is what we came all this way for? I thought you wanted a weapon!”

  “I wanted something to make me feel safer,” said JC. “And this fits the bill nicely.”

  “How can you be sure it does what it says on the tin?” said Latimer.

  “I can’t,” said JC. “Another reason I haven’t relied on it before.”

  He lifted the rabbit’s foot out of its box, hefted it a few times, then tucked it away in an inside pocket.

  “Can we go now?” said Latimer.

  “Don’t you want to help yourself to anything, Boss?” said JC.

  “There’s nothing here I need,” said Latimer. “I’m dangerous enough on my own.”

  “Never doubted it for a moment,” said JC.

  “A rabbit’s foot,” said Chang, shaking her head. “Can’t say I ever believed in them. I mean, didn’t do the rabbit any good, did it?”

  “I don’t have anything capable of destroying the Flesh Undying,” JC said patiently. “I’m not sure anyone has. So when I do eventually have to go up against it, I want something capable of turning the odds in my favour at just the right moment. Never under-estimate the importance of a lucky break.”

  “Let’s go,” said Chang. “Before you decide you need to study your horoscope.”

  Melody came over to join them. She now had two different handguns holstered on her hips and was stuffing handfuls of grenades, incendiaries, and other useful items into her pockets.

  “Guns? Against a living mountain,” said Latimer.

  “It’s a start,” said Melody. “And we might need them to use against someone else.” She glared pointedly at Chang.

  “We have bigger, better weapons at the Project Armoury,” said Chang.

  “Of course you do,” said Latimer. “And I’m sure you’ll be happy to share your toys with us, at some point. I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.”

  “No you bloody haven’t,” said JC.

  “True,” said Latimer. “But I am very interested in seeing the Project’s Armoury. While they’ve got a reason to open it to us.”

  “Good point,” said JC.

  Chang smiled haughtily. “You wouldn’t believe what we’ve got . . .”

 
“Yes I would,” said Latimer. “I saw last month’s inventory.”

  “You only think you did,” said Chang. “We leaked you a fake inventory deliberately, as disinformation.”

  “You only thought it was a fake,” said Latimer. “One of my people inside your organisation substituted the real thing, at the last moment.”

  “Well,” said Chang. “You would think that, wouldn’t you?”

  “Spy games,” said Happy. “Head . . . hurting . . .”

  And then they all looked around sharply as they realised Kim had joined them at some point and was standing before one particular crate, studying it thoughtfully.

  “How long has she been here, watching us?” demanded Chang.

  “Why?” said JC. “What have you been doing that you didn’t want anyone to see?”

  Kim ignored them, staring at the crate in front of her. “JC . . . Why is this calling to me? Why do I feel it’s important?”

  JC moved over to join her. “I was wondering when you’d turn up again.”

  “I had business to attend to,” said Kim. “The living can’t walk the low road without consequences. But that’s all taken care of now.”

  Melody looked at Happy. “Don’t ask.”

  “Wasn’t planning to,” said Happy.

  “How did you know to find me here?” said JC.

  “I always know where you are,” said Kim. “All places are the same to the dead.”

  “What does that even mean?” said Melody.

  “You’re better off not knowing,” said Kim. “Oh, hello, Happy! Your aura’s looking a lot better.”

  “Thank you,” said Happy. “I think.”

  Kim looked to JC, then back at the crate.

  “Inside that crate is something I acquired from the Nightside,” JC said quietly, giving all his attention to Kim. “A place where you can, after all, find absolutely anything. And somebody ready to sell it to you for an exorbitant price.”

  “JC,” said Kim. “What have you done? What have you bought?”

  JC opened the crate, and brought out a dusty old bottle half-full of a murky liquid that seemed to stir and heave with a life all its own.

  “Supposedly,” he said carefully, “this very special potion makes it possible for a living man to have sex with a ghost. I’ve been saving it for a special occasion.”

  Kim looked at him for the first time, her face radiant. “Oh my love . . . How much did this cost you?”

  “Cheap at half the price,” said JC.

  Kim raised a hand and caressed the air as close to his cheek as she dared to get. She couldn’t risk her hand passing through his face, that would spoil the illusion.

  “Later,” said Kim.

  In the background, Happy started singing. “Where do I begin, to tell the story . . .”

  “Hush, dear,” said Melody.

  JC put the bottle back in its crate and turned to look thoughtfully at Natasha Chang. “All right, put it back.”

  “What?” said Chang, innocently.

  “Put back what you took,” said JC.

  “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Chang.

  She broke off as Melody stepped forward and stuck the barrel of a Smith & Wesson .45 in Chang’s left ear.

  “If we can’t trust you,” said Latimer, “you’re no use to us. And this alliance is over. Feel free to explain that to your superiors.”

  “Oh, all right!” said Chang, pouting. “I just wanted a souvenir. Or two.”

  She emptied out her pockets, and piled up a series of small but interesting pieces on top of a nearby crate. JC looked her over carefully, and so did Kim. Chang sighed heavily and produced two more objects.

  “There!” she said loudly. “That’s it! Satisfied now?”

  JC nodded to Melody, who lowered her gun and holstered it again. Chang glared at her.

  “I won’t forget this!”

  “Neither will I,” Melody said cheerfully. “Most fun I’ve had all day.”

  Latimer shook her head. “Even in the face of the coming end of the world, I still can’t get you kids to play nicely together.”

  | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |

  They left the garage, and JC locked it up carefully. There was still no-one around. Somewhere along the way, Kim disappeared. JC didn’t say anything, so everyone else took their cue from him. Apart from Chang, of course.

  “What is the matter with her? Why does she have to keep vanishing on us?”

  “Maybe it’s the company,” said Melody.

  “I think she gets car-sick,” said JC.

  They all piled back into the limousine, and the chauffeur drove off at speed, racing through the London streets with even more disregard for the rules of the road than before, as though determined to make up for lost time. Even if he had to drive right over the cars in front of him. Melody produced a flick-knife and carved her initials and Happy’s, surrounded by a heart, into the expensive leather upholstery. Chang pretended not to notice. Happy looked out the side window, but JC couldn’t tell what he was looking at. Or even if he was looking at something in this world. More and more it seemed to JC that, between his lucid patches, Happy was becoming increasingly distant. JC looked to Latimer, but she was lost in her own thoughts again.

  The ride went on for some time, with no-one saying anything to anyone. Eventually, JC realised the car was driving through a far more up-market area. Expensive cars moved elegantly around the limousine, like so many technicolor fish in a murky ocean. Men and women on the street wore the latest fashions, with style and elegance and cold superiority. The limousine finally slowed to a halt outside a blandly anonymous office building, with a small brass name-plate: Baphomet House.

  “Welcome to the Headquarters of the Crowley Project!” Chang said grandly. “World domination a speciality!”

  “Is it too late to inquire about safe words?” said JC.

  Catherine Latimer surprised him then with a sharp bark of laughter.

  “This can only go well,” said Happy.

  They all got out of the limousine and gathered together to carefully consider Baphomet House. It seemed pleasant enough, just another place where business was done. Nothing about its benign facade and warmly lit windows to draw the attention. Chang smiled at how unimpressed they all were.

  “We can’t all live at the back of a Palace.”

  Happy scowled at the building and shook his head slowly. “I don’t like the feel of this place. It’s beyond Sick Building Syndrome, more like Really Sick, Border-line Psychotic and Heading for Feral Syndrome. Sorry, JC; I’m going to have to shut down. In my current state, that place would eat me alive.”

  Melody glared at Chang. “No-one better try anything in there. I have guns. And other things.”

  “So do I!” Chang said cheerfully. “Girls together!”

  “You know,” said Melody. “You’re even creepier when you’re trying to be chummy.”

  “It’s a gift,” said Chang. “Now, follow me everybody. Stick close, smile at everyone, while feeling perfectly free to kick the crap out of anybody who gives you a hard time. We all do, here. Helps enforce discipline and contributes to better working conditions.”

  “Who knew the Project would have so much in common with the Institute?” JC murmured to Latimer.

  “Shut up,” said Latimer.

  Natasha Chang led the way into the building’s lobby. Which turned out to be a wide-open space, expensive and luxurious in an only slightly intimidating way. People came and went, looking perfectly ordinary and not at all evil. Most were smiling. Nothing to suggest this was the entrance to the headquarters of one of the most openly evil organisations in the world. Chang seemed even more amused by the Ghost Finders’ reactions.

  “What did you expect? Armoured storm-troopers, and a big sign saying Th
is way to the Torture Chambers?”

  “Well, yes,” said JC. “I think I’m actually just a bit disappointed. It seems like no-one on the dark side can be bothered to put on a show any more. Whatever happened to scientific bases hidden inside hollowed-out volcanoes?”

  “Not cost-effective,” said Chang. “The most efficient plan is a business plan. It’s all computers and spreadsheets, these days. Which is why I prefer to spend most of my time out in the field. Far more opportunities to do evil, out in the field.”

  She led them across the lobby to the high-tech reception desk, where the smartly dressed and sweetly smiling receptionist insisted Chang sign in; and write down all the names of the guests she was vouching for. Chang explained that they were expected, and the receptionist explained that rules were rules. Chang gave the receptionist her best put-upon sigh, and started writing. Melody sniffed loudly.

  “I don’t think I like people here knowing my real name. I don’t want anyone knowing I entered a place like this of my own free will.”

  “Oh please,” said Chang, not looking up from what she was doing. “It would only enhance your reputation.”

  When Chang finally finished, the receptionist smiled brightly at them all, worked briefly at her computer, then waved them through the electronic gates beside her desk. Chang strode through with her nose in the air, and the others hurried after her.

  “That’s it?” said JC. “No name tags, no security pat downs? Not even a metal detector?”

  “Please,” said Chang. “Remember where you are. We were all very thoroughly scanned by a dozen surveillance systems the moment we walked through the door.”

  “Then what was all that signing-in nonsense?” said Melody.

  “Rules are rules,” said Latimer. “Evil organisations just love rules and regulations.”

  JC thought of a great many things he could say concerning the Carnacki Institute, but wisely chose not to.

  “And no-one’s going to give a damn about all the guns and big-bang things I’m carrying?” said Melody.

  “Guns are the least dangerous things you’ll encounter in this building,” said Chang. “Everyone here goes armed. It’s expected.”