Spirits from Beyond g-4

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Spirits from Beyond g-4 Page 6

by Simon R. Green


  “Good point, well made,” said JC. “But I haven’t heard a single word from our revered Boss on this subject; and I don’t feel like putting up with that one moment longer. Not while The Flesh Undying and its rotten agents are taking open pot-shots at us.”

  “How are we supposed to find something useful in the Libraries if all the Boss’s people couldn’t?” said Melody.

  “You are supposing someone has actually looked,” murmured Kim; and everyone in the car sat quietly for a moment, considering that.

  “A fresh pair of eyes is always useful,” JC said vaguely, swerving his car in and out of the packed traffic perhaps a little more casually than was safe or desirable. “Perhaps a pair of unprejudiced eyes will turn up something new. . Preferably something we can use as a defence. Or a weapon. Either way, I want answers. I demand answers! I need to know things for sure. Whether the Boss wants me to know them or not.”

  “You’re starting to sound a bit like me,” said Happy. “Which is not necessarily a good thing. ”

  “How are we going to get in?” demanded Melody. “You said it yourself: the Secret Libraries are surrounded by some of the most powerful, appalling, and openly distressing defences anywhere in the land. I’ve tried to hack their on-line presence any number of times, for the challenge, of course; and I never got anywhere.”

  “The Boss provided me with password access after the events at Chimera House,” said JC. “What happened to Robert Patterson shook her.”

  “You’ve had access all this time?” said Melody, her voice rising dangerously. “And you never said anything?”

  “So the Boss isn’t the only one who’s been keeping things from us!” said Happy accusingly.

  “Do I detect the sound of mutiny in the air?” said JC. “I’ll have any one keelhauled who dares dispute my authority! I was content to let the Boss do the hard work, digging up proof of hidden informants; but when someone aims the ghost of a dead god and his enfleshed followers at me, my patience evaporates. It is clearly time to take matters into our own hands.”

  “You’re not wriggling out of it that easily,” said Melody. “Why did the Boss give you a password, and not us?”

  “Because I’m team leader,” said JC.

  “Only because we all voted, and you lost,” said Happy.

  “Exactly,” said Melody. “Somebody had to take responsibility for our actions; and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be us.”

  “I’ve missed all this jolly banter,” said Kim.

  * * *

  At the Woolwich Arsenal, JC parked his car in someone else’s private parking space. The car’s CD plates should ensure that no-one bothered it; and if someone was foolish enough to do so, the car was quite capable of looking after itself. In a thoroughly mean-spirited and unpleasant way. No-one messes with the Carnacki Institute. Dealing with the restless dead, the monstrous, and the demonic on a daily basis gives you a rather short temper when faced with more everyday annoyances.

  The team disembarked from the car in their own various ways. Happy got out slowly and painfully, with many loud, creaking noises from his joints, and peered dubiously around him into the harsh electric light of the car park. He gave the appearance of something that had crawled out from under a rock and was seriously considering going straight back again. Melody kicked her door open, hauled herself out in one lithe movement, and glared about her in the hope that someone would come along and give her some grief. So she could cheer herself up by punching them repeatedly in the head. Kim floated through her door without opening it and drifted over to hover beside JC as he stood in front of the car and looked thoughtfully about him.

  The Woolwich Arsenal was basically a collection of barracks and assorted anonymous military buildings, some more interesting to look at than others. JC gestured grandly at one particular structure, set a little away from everything else. Old brickwork, a slanting roof, and a single door with the word STORES set out in peeling paint.

  “And there we are, children. The gateway to a place of wonders. Or so I’m told. I’ve never been inside the Secret Libraries, and I don’t know anyone who knows anyone who has. There’s always the chance that this is all one big con, a distraction from the real secret repository of hoarded knowledge. And all we’ll find down below is a collection of old Reader’s Digests and a bunch of Dan Browns. Still, on the chance that this is the Real Deal, act confidently, like we have every right to be there, and no-one will challenge us. Kim, I hate to say this. . but I think you’d better wait in the car. You do draw people’s attention. .”

  “No-one will see me,” said Kim.

  “This is a Carnacki Institute site,” JC said patiently. “They maintain all kinds of surveillance here, to keep out uninvited spirits.”

  “But I am not any old ghost, darling,” said Kim. “No-one can see me now unless I want them to. Disappearing from the world’s eyes was one of the first things I had to learn when I went on the run. In fact, I learned many strange and unusual secrets on my travels. I am wise and wonderful and know many things, and don’t you forget it. You are my sweetie and my love, JC; but you are not the boss of me.”

  JC shot a quick glance at Happy and Melody, but they were carefully looking somewhere else.

  “Very well,” said JC. “On your own ectoplasm be it. But, we will talk about this later. .”

  “Yes, dear,” said Kim, demurely.

  “You’re not fooling anyone,” said JC.

  “Hold everything, hit the brakes, go previous,” said Happy. “What did you mean when you said, ‘Act like we have every right to be here’? If the Boss gave you the password, then we do have every right to be here. Don’t we?”

  “Oh, she gave me the word,” said JC. “Right there in her office. Made a big presentation out of it. I had to sign a whole bunch of very official papers first. She very definitely gave me the password. But whether she ever intended me to use it, that’s a whole different matter. For all I know, she changed the password the moment I left her office.”

  “Terrific,” said Melody. “What do we do if the password doesn’t work?”

  “I shall be sprinting for the car,” said Happy. “Try to keep out of my way, or I will run right over you.”

  “You faced down the ghost of an old god,” said JC. “Are you really worried about getting past the one uniformed soldier they’ve got guarding the door?”

  “If you could See the kind of defences and protections surrounding that building, you would wet yourself,” Happy said firmly. “There are booby-traps set in place that could turn you inside out and play you like a concertina. There are others that could blow your soul right out of your body. This place is more private than a very private place with extraordinarily private tendencies.”

  “Do I need to give you a paper bag to breathe into?” said JC.

  “Couldn’t hurt,” said Happy.

  JC led the way across the half-empty car park, heading straight for the nondescript building ahead of them. He had a strong feeling of being watched by cold unfriendly eyes. But then, he often did. He squared his shoulders and put a bit of a swagger into his walk. Never give them an inch, or they’ll walk all over you. He strode straight up to the single uniformed soldier standing in front of the only door and nodded to him briskly. He could hear the rest of his team shambling to a halt behind him but didn’t look back. The soldier gave every appearance of being as ordinary as the door and building he guarded: average height and weight, with a face you wouldn’t look at twice. . but his smile and his eyes were very cold.

  JC gave the solider his best charming smile, to no obvious effect. JC carefully avoided looking at the soldier’s rifle, which happened to be pointed right at him, and glanced back at his team-mates. Melody was scowling, Happy was sweating, and Kim was smiling sweetly.

  “Step forward, children, and make a good showing. Allow me to present to you. . the official guardian of the Carnacki Institute Secret Libraries. Not just any British soldier; this is Tommy Atkins. He�
�s not real, as such, but don’t hold that against him. Mr. Atkins here is the ghost of every British soldier who ever fell in battle, defending his country; with some stain still on his character. This is his last chance to do penance and make amends for his sins, before he moves on.”

  The team took it in turns to blink at Tommy Atkins, who looked calmly back.

  “And you know all this how, JC?” murmured Melody.

  “The Boss told me,” said JC. “I think we can all guess why.”

  “So,” Happy said carefully to Tommy Atkins, “you’re not only you; you’re a whole bunch of you. Are you all volunteers?”

  “That’s the idea, sir,” Tommy Atkins said easily. “Each of us stepped forward, grateful for one last chance to put our papers in order. You’ve heard of the Unknown Soldier? Well, we’re the Known Soldier. Guilty as charged, every one of us, for sins small and large.”

  “How many of you are there?” said Melody.

  “As many as needed, to do the job, miss,” said Tommy Atkins. “We take it in turns to stand guard, do our duty, protect the contents of the Secret Libraries. Until we’ve done enough to put things right and move on; and then the next man steps up. We will guard this door till Judgement-Day, if need be. Never any shortage of Tommy Atkinses.”

  “The very best kind of guard,” JC said cheerfully. “Never gets tired, never sleeps, never loses concentration. Because he’s dead and therefore beyond such weaknesses.”

  “Professional soldier, that’s me, sir,” said Tommy Atkins. “Now and forever; or at least until my time’s up. Now, sir, I’m all for a nice chat now and then, but either you present to me the proper password, or I’m afraid I will have to blow several large holes through you.”

  “Of course,” said JC, still carefully not looking at the soldier’s rifle. He presented his left hand to Tommy Atkins, palm down, and carefully pronounced a certain Word. A glowing eye appeared on the back of JC’s hand. It swivelled around to look at Tommy Atkins, blinked once, then disappeared. The soldier nodded briefly and lowered his rifle. He looked thoughtfully at the rest of the team.

  “They’re with me,” JC said firmly.

  Tommy Atkins nodded again, turned around, and pushed open the door to the building. Nothing showed beyond it but a dim, unwavering light. JC glanced at the back of his hand, but the eye had already disappeared.

  “Hell of a library stamp,” muttered Happy.

  “Shut up,” muttered Melody.

  JC led the way in, and they all took turns to shuffle sideways past Tommy Atkins. He seemed solid enough, but up close he still made the hair rise on the back of their necks. Apart from Kim, of course. Tommy Atkins looked at her thoughtfully.

  “Pardon me, miss; but you are a ghost, aren’t you? Yes, thought so. Not the first I’ve let go past, and won’t be the last, probably. They say there are books down there that only the dead can read. Probably just as well. But you watch yourself down there, miss; there are much worse things than dangerous books in the Secret Libraries.”

  “Thank you, Tommy Atkins,” said Kim. “Always nice to meet a ghost with manners.”

  * * *

  The door closed firmly behind them, and the Ghost Finders huddled together, looking around a small room not much bigger than the average washroom. A single bare light bulb hung down, providing the only illumination. No furniture; no window; no other door. Happy looked at JC.

  “So who was that, outside? Really?”

  “He’s Tommy Atkins,” said JC. “Or at least I have been given no reason to believe otherwise. And no-one has ever got past him that shouldn’t have. Until now.”

  “What do you mean?” said Melody. “We’re the good guys!”

  “That’s not the point,” said Happy. “We are not officially supposed to be here, password or no, because the Boss didn’t specifically approve it. So who else might have got in here, on equally spurious grounds?”

  “Still not talking to you,” said Melody.

  Happy turned to JC. “Where do we go from here? I can’t See anything, with all these protections in place.”

  “Probably because you’re looking in the wrong direction,” said JC.

  He pointed down at the floor, where there was a large trap-door. JC leaned over, grabbed the heavy ring set into the trap-door, and hauled it open. He let it fall back onto the floor with a loud, echoing bang; and they all looked down into the dark opening. A heavy iron staircase went winding and spiralling down into the gloom.

  “Down we go!” JC said cheerfully.

  “You are definitely getting on my nerves,” said Melody. “I don’t care if Kim is back; it’s not natural to be that cheerful all the time.”

  “I have defeated a living god, I am close to answers that have been kept from me, and my girl-friend has returned!” JC said grandly. “If I were any happier, I’d have to be more people.”

  “You say the nicest things, JC,” said Kim.

  Happy shuffled uneasily beside the dark opening. “That staircase does not look safe to me, JC. And God and the Boss alone knows how far down it goes. No; I am not going down that stairway without a parachute.”

  “Go!” JC said firmly. “Be a brave little Ghost Finder, and there shall be Jaffa Cakes for tea. And tea!”

  “After you,” said Happy, just as firmly.

  JC stepped down onto the stairway with exaggerated calm and started down the spiralling iron steps. His feet clattered loudly on the bare metal, but the stairway didn’t shake in the least under his weight. Melody went down next, and Kim drifted down after her, leaving Happy standing alone in the room. He took out a pill box, looked at it for a long moment, then put it away again. He sighed loudly and went down after the others.

  * * *

  A pleasant glow with no obvious source surrounded the team as they descended. The light didn’t spread far, moving along with them as they went down and down, into darkness after darkness. JC peered over the top of his sunglasses from time to time, but even his altered eyes couldn’t pierce the dark beyond the stairs. JC carefully pushed his sunglasses back into place and glanced back up at Happy.

  “Can you See anything out there, Happy?”

  “Yes. .” said Happy. “Enough to make me not want to See any more, so I’m going to stop looking. Trust me on this, JC; you don’t want to know. Some transitions are more distressing than others. Let’s just say. . the Secret Libraries aren’t where we thought they were. You take me to the weirdest places.”

  They carried on down the spiralling staircase, all of them being very careful to stay well away from the edges, which lacked any kind of railing. Kim got bored pretending to walk down and dropped quietly down through the open space in the middle, sticking close to JC. He’d already lost all track of how far down they’d come. His leg muscles had begun to seriously ache when a light suddenly flared up, and he stepped off the bottom of the staircase and onto solid floor. He stumbled away from the stairs to give the others room to get off, and looked around him.

  He was standing in a huge underground cavern, packed with row upon row of tall, sturdy bookcases. A stone floor, and a stone ceiling high above. And book-shelves, book-shelves everywhere, stretching away further than the human eye could follow, in every direction JC could think of, plus a few more.

  Melody and Happy stared about them with wide, hungry eyes, making Oooh! and Aaah! noises, both of them forgetting the sour moods they were supposed to be in. Kim laughed softly, clapping her hands silently together.

  “So many secret places turn out to be something of a disappointment when you finally get to see them,” said JC. “But not this! It’s like they have every book in the world here, including all the ones that no-one’s supposed to have.”

  Melody took hold of herself and sniffed loudly, striking a conspicuously unimpressed pose. “Who needs all these books? Why not put them all on e-files? Then there’d be no need for so much storage space.”

  “Because you can’t hack books, of course,” Happy said witheringly.
“If you want to know what’s in a particular volume of forbidden lore, you have to come down here in person, check out the book, and read it. Except you can’t because that isn’t allowed. Mostly.”

  “What about remote viewing?” said Melody, to be stubborn.

  “With the shields they’ve got in place here? Any wandering spirit that tried to sneak in here would get its ectoplasm kicked so thoroughly it would end up in another dimension, with its arse on fire. And besides, most of the books down here are so dangerous in their own right that they would deep-fry your brains inside your skull if you tried to read them without taking the proper precautions.” Happy paused. “Or so I’ve heard. There are an awful lot of stories about the Carnacki Institute’s Secret Libraries, and every single one of them contradicts all the others. Does your password give us access to everything, JC? Or should we lurk quietly to one side and not touch anything?”

  “We can look at anything we want to, now we’re in,” said JC. “Or so I was given to understand.”

  “And if you’re wrong?” said Melody.

  “Listen for the bang,” said JC. “Ah, here comes the Librarian.”

  They all turned to look as the current Librarian came strolling forward to meet them. Everyone in the team took their time looking him over because this particular individual was in fact an empty suit of rather old-fashioned clothes, inhabited by nothing obvious or indeed visible. There was clearly something inside the clothes from the way they bulged and moved and wrinkled. But nothing protruded from the starched collar or the stiff cuffs or the bottom of the trouser legs. There were also subtle and somewhat worrying indications that whatever was inside the clothes wasn’t necessarily, entirely, human. The clothes came to a halt in front of the team and struck a sort of respectful pose.

  “Well, hello there!” said a dry, dusty voice from somewhere in the vicinity of the starched white collar. “Visitors! How very unexpected and unannounced! Don’t get many visitors these days since I put down the enchanted man-traps. And the head-eating things. Never can remember what they’re called. . Anyway, nice to see you all! I’m in charge here, inasmuch as anyone is, or can be. I prefer to be called the Keeper of Secrets; but unfortunately that never caught on. Mostly, I’m called the Empty Librarian. Guess why? Never mind, never mind, moving on. . How can I be of service to you good ladies and gentlemen?”

 

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