“We are not alone here,” Happy said quietly. “Something is in this room with us.”
“Your E.S.P. is back?” said JC.
“Some of it,” said Happy. “Enough . . . My mind is so expanded now, I can hear shadows banging together. I am so sharp, I could cut a sunbeam in half. And I am quite definitely Seeing something, out of the corner of my mind’s eye.”
Jonathan watched Happy move around the room, tracking something only he could follow. The station manager eased in beside JC, not taking his eyes off Happy.
“Is he a medium?”
“Oh, he’s so much more than that,” said Melody.
“Happy is our team telepath and tame mental marvel,” said JC. “Talk to us, Happy! Describe what you’re Seeing.”
Happy walked slowly round the perimeter of the reception area, turning his head slowly this way and that. He was smiling—a cold, disturbing smile.
“I think . . . Either it’s letting me catch glimpses of it, to try and scare me off . . . Or it’s finally losing control of the situation, now we know it’s here. Or, possibly, something or someone else is fighting the Something, to allow me to See it.”
“Yes . . .” said JC. “Lots of interesting options there, Happy; but what it is you’re Seeing?”
“Hush,” said the telepath. “I’m trying to focus.”
JC looked to Melody, standing helplessly before her tech, unable to assist Happy. She glared quickly from one monitor screen to another, then leaned forward abruptly.
“What?” JC said quietly.
“Major cold spot developing, JC. It’s the size of this room! We are talking a massive energy sink. Something from Outside our world is draining all the energy out of this room, so it can manifest. If my machines weren’t so thoroughly shielded, they’d be dead in the water by now. And I’m not sure how long even they can hold out against an energy drain this big . . .”
“Happy!” said JC. “Talk to me!”
“Faces!” said Happy, not looking round. “Screaming faces! So many of them . . . So many people dying! It’s like the end of the world . . . Listening to them hurts so much . . . They’re in so much pain, JC! Dying again and again . . .”
Then, to everyone’s surprise, including Happy’s, he channelled what he was Seeing, so everyone else could see it, too. He thrust the vision out of his head and into theirs; and the reception area vanished. Replaced by a whole new world. A terrible, horrible Other Place. They were still standing together; but everything else had changed. The sky was on fire. It was raining blood. The air stank of brimstone and sour milk, spilled blood and rotting flesh, curdling in their lungs. Voices screamed and howled all around them. Something huge beyond bearing came striding towards them, the ground shaking with every step. And then the vision snapped off; and they were all back in the reception area again.
Happy collapsed. Legs bending, eyes rolling up in his head, all his strength gone. Melody came sprinting out from behind her machines and was there to catch him as he fell. She lowered him carefully to the floor and sat there with him, holding him tightly to her. Murmuring reassuringly in his ear. Jonathan looked like he wanted to be sick. He staggered over to the reception desk and sat down behind it, shaking and shuddering. JC turned to Kim and had to swallow hard before he could speak.
“Did you see that, too? Did you hear that?”
“Yes! All of it . . . Where was that, JC? What was that place?”
“I think it’s more when was that place,” said JC. “That was a vision of things to come, of the future we’re being warned about.”
Jonathan made a low, distressed sound. His face was deathly pale, and his eyes were wild. He stared at the Ghost Finders, as though seeing them clearly for the first time.
“This is what you deal with all the time? How do you stand it? Who are you; what are you? How was all that even possible?”
“Steady,” said JC, not unkindly. “Breathe . . . You’ve had your first experience of the larger world. Takes some getting used to. Try not to think about it. I find that helps a lot. If it doesn’t, feel free to ask Happy for some of his special little helpers.”
Happy was back in control again. He nodded weakly to Melody, and she helped him back onto his feet. She didn’t let go of him.
“Talk to me, Happy,” said JC. “Did you get a sense of how far into the future that was? How long we’ve got, before our world turns into that?”
“Hard to be sure,” said Happy. “Time . . . is all messed up, here.” He turned suddenly to Jonathan. “That . . . was what your voices have been warning you about. No wonder they sounded so desperate . . .”
JC looked steadily at Happy. “You’ve never been able to share visions before.”
“I’ve never been here before,” said Happy. “Something wanted us to see that. Though whether it was the good guys or the bad guys . . . Take your pick. Could have been a warning or Something taunting us. All we can be sure of is that a terrible future is heading our way, at speed.”
“Coming here? Right here? To this radio station?” said JC.
“Coming everywhere,” Happy said steadily. “That really was the end of the world, JC. Our world, overwhelmed and replaced by the working conditions of another reality. The end of everything, or at least, everything we know and understand.”
“But how long have we got?” said JC. “When does this happen?”
“Tomorrow,” said Happy.
SIX
| | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |
IT’S MY TURN
“Tomorrow?” Jonathan said loudly. “The whole damned world is going to end, tomorrow? Really?”
“Well, not necessarily,” said Happy. “It could be later tonight . . . you have to allow for a certain amount of leeway in these things . . .”
“Yes, yes; I get it!” Jonathan looked very upset. His eyes swept this way and that, and his hands clenched into fists at his sides, as though searching for someone to hit. JC understood how he felt. But, he was supposed to be the one in charge, so . . .
“It’s all right, Jonathan,” he said soothingly. “We can deal with this. It’s only another deadline. We can do deadlines.”
Jonathan spun round and glared at JC. “Are you kidding me? I called you here to deal with a few spooky voices; and now one of your people looks me straight in the eye and says the world is going to end!”
“Not necessarily,” said JC. “Not if we have anything to do with it. And we do. In situations like this, it’s always important to pay attention to the small print. Look hard enough, and you can usually find a way out of anything. That’s what we do. It’s our job to deal with impossible situations; and we’re very good at it.”
“Mostly,” said Happy.
JC gave him a hard look. “Really not helping, Happy.”
“We could always take off and nuke the place from orbit,” said Melody.
“Really not helping, Melody.”
And then they all broke off and looked round sharply as one of the phones on the reception desk started to ring. Everyone stayed where they were, standing very still, partly because no-one wanted to draw attention to themselves and partly because everyone wanted someone else to answer it. The phone rang on and on, relentlessly, until finally JC strode over to the desk and snatched up the receiver.
“Hello?” he said. “Is this room service? I’d like to order a room . . .”
And then he stopped, listened for a moment, and turned to Jonathan, holding the phone out to him.
“Ah, Jonathan . . . It’s for you.”
The station manager came forward and gingerly took the receiver from JC. He put it carefully to his ear, as though afraid it might try to bite him, started to say something, then stood there and listened. They all saw the tension go out of him as he nodded several times, and said All right and Yes, I understand. And then he looked across at the Ghost Finders, almost apologetically.
“It’s Felicity, from upstairs. She’s in the studio, ready to begin her show
with its much-trailed and anticipated interview with the famous Ghost Finders, and she wants to know where the hell you all are, as she can’t do the interview without you. There is more to the message, but I don’t like to use language like that. Can I tell her you’ll be right up? Please?”
“Oh sure,” said JC. “I think we could all do with a little pleasant distraction.”
Jonathan looked at him. “You’ve never heard Felicity skewer a guest in one of her interviews, have you? She performs interviews the way other people perform autopsies. If she’s this keen to make a start, it can only be because she thinks she’s got something she can use to nail you.”
“We can look after ourselves,” said JC.
“On your own heads be it,” said Jonathan. He muttered briefly into the phone and replaced the receiver. He then moved quickly away from the desk, clearly worried one of the other phones might ring if he stayed too close for too long. Happy cleared his throat loudly.
“You don’t need me for the interview, do you, JC? Really? You can speak for the Ghost Finders; you always give good public relations. You know all the right things to say. And you have, after all, been known to say, on many occasions, that I have very limited people skills.”
“That is not what I say,” JC said sternly. “I say that you have very distressing people skills, an uncanny ability to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory by saying exactly the wrong thing, and that in any public setting that involves up-close interaction with the public, you are a complete bloody liability.”
“That does sound familiar,” said Melody.
“Well, yes,” said Happy. “I was paraphrasing. And I can’t help but feel, JC, that you have made my point for me.”
“If he doesn’t have to do it, I don’t have to do it!” said Melody, scowling fiercely. “People never want to hear what I have to say.”
“He does have to do it, and so do you,” JC said firmly. “Firstly, because we need to present a united front in the face of the enemy, which in this case might be Felicity Legrand or her audience or both; and secondly, this interview isn’t about answering her questions. It’s about reassuring and calming down the listening audience before they experience one shock too many and have one big collective coronary. So you, Melody, will baffle them with scientific bullshit, while I say calm, soothing, and possibly entirely misleading things. You, Happy, will sit quietly at the back and say nothing; because I want you ready to jump into action if one of the unnatural voices crashes the show. The recordings are interesting, but you can’t talk back to a recording. I need to be sure these voices really are what we think they are.”
“Suddenly I’m a ghostly lie-detector?” said Happy.
“Yes,” said JC.
“Cool!” said Happy.
“Can I bring some of my equipment with me?” said Melody.
“No,” said JC.
“How about my gun?”
“No!” said JC.
“I don’t do radio interviews,” said Kim. “I am a very private person; and I’m not even sure they’d be able to hear me.”
“I know,” said JC. “I don’t like the idea of all of us cooped up in one place, anyway. You can sit this one out.”
Jonathan looked confused. “Why wouldn’t they be able to hear her? We have the very best equipment . . .”
JC smiled reassuringly at him. “It’s a copyright thing.”
Jonathan nodded slowly, pretending he understood because he could tell he probably wouldn’t understand the real answer, even if it was explained to him. And that if he did, he almost certainly wouldn’t like it. He pushed the thought aside, so he could concentrate on things he did understand. Like Felicity Legrand seething impatiently alone in her studio. He gave JC his best meaningful stare.
“You need to understand, JC, Felicity is renowned for the toughness and . . . thoroughness of her interviews. She does lots of research, digs up all the dirt, and never allows herself to be side-tracked from what she believes are the important questions. She reduced our local Member of Parliament to tears. Most popular show we’ve ever done. All she has to do is sense weakness, or blood in the water, and she’ll go for the throat every time. But even so, JC, I need you to go easy on her. What’s left of our listening audience adores Felicity Legrand. Can’t get enough of her. She’s the only reason we’ve still got anyone listening to us on a regular basis.”
“Don’t worry,” said JC. “We’ve been trained to deal with worse things than her. We’ll be very polite, and evasive, and Happy will quite definitely watch his language. Won’t you; Happy?”
Happy nodded reassuringly to Jonathan. “You can rely on me. My Tourette’s syndrome isn’t anywhere near as bad as it used to be.”
“Oh God,” said Jonathan.
Melody stood in front of her machines, her arms folded firmly, her chin jutting forward. “I am not going anywhere until Sally gets back. I want her here, keeping a watchful eye on my machines while I’m away. I am not leaving them unprotected.”
“You honestly think someone might walk in here and steal them?” said Jonathan.
“This doesn’t strike me as one of the most secure locations I’ve worked in if I’m honest,” said Melody. “No security staff, not even a doorman . . . My instruments have all been very carefully calibrated for maximum efficiency. I don’t want anyone messing with them . . .”
“Couldn’t Kim . . . ?” said Jonathan.
“No, Kim couldn’t,” Kim said firmly. “Machines and I do not get along. I think they’re scared of me.”
Jonathan looked very much as though he wanted to say something in response to that but decided against it. He knew there was more to Kim than met the eye and had a strong suspicion he didn’t want to know what it was. JC gave the station manager one of his best winning smiles, and Jonathan sighed loudly. He walked over to the front door, opened it, stuck his head out, and yelled for the station’s receptionist at the top of his voice.
“Sally! Get back in here! You’re needed!”
There was a pause, then Jonathan backed quickly away from the open door as Sally came striding in, shoving her pierced and painted face right into his. She backed him all the way across the reception area, not even trying to hide her extreme displeasure. She drove Jonathan all the way back to the reception desk through sheer force of personality, battering him unmercifully with her raised voice.
“Don’t you shout at me, Jonathan Hardy! You do not pay me enough to get to shout at me! And even if you did, I still wouldn’t put up with it! Now what the hell is so important that you had to interrupt my very important private time, communing with nature and hiding from the weird shit? Have you forgotten your computer password again?” She realised she’d got him pressed up against the reception desk, and there was nowhere left for him to go, so she turned abruptly away to glare at the Ghost Finders. “Something happened here while I was gone, didn’t it? I can feel it tingling in my piercings. Like someone else was here and only just stepped out. And maybe hasn’t left completely . . .”
“Are you sure you’re not psychic?” said Happy.
“It’s all right, Sally,” JC said quickly. “If something did happen, it’s over. It’s perfectly safe in here now.”
“You’re wrong,” said Sally. “It’s never safe in here.”
“Everything’s fine,” JC said firmly. He looked across at Happy. “You tell her . . .”
“I will if you like,” said Happy, “but you know I can never lie convincingly.”
“I can feel another break coming on,” Sally said loudly. “Listen! The back garden is calling to me . . .”
“I need you to stay here,” said Melody. “Keep a close watch on my machines, while the rest of us are upstairs being interviewed by Felicity. You don’t have to do anything except raise the alarm if anyone even looks at my stuff wrong. Don’t worry; the machines will protect you.”
Sally smiled, slowly. It wasn’t a particularly pleasant smile. “You’re going to be interviewed by Ms. S
mug Bitch Scary Trousers Legrand? Okay; I think I will hang around, so I can listen in on the reception speakers. I could use a good laugh. But if I even see a shadow twitch, I am out of here, and the machines are on their own.”
She stomped around the desk and sat down hard in her chair. She tugged moodily at one of the larger piercings in her right eyebrow and glared at the phones set out before her, as though daring them to ring. And then she reached out, picked up all the receivers one at a time, and slammed them all down on the desk-top. She glared at Jonathan.
“Screw the regulations. I have my nerves to think of. Anyone wants to talk to the station, they can send us an e-mail. It’s so much easier to officially ignore an e-mail.”
She waited for Jonathan to argue with her and seemed a little surprised when he didn’t. He nodded tiredly, in a resigned sort of way, and turned to the waiting Ghost Finders.
“Can we please go upstairs now? Felicity will be getting really impatient; and I hate it when she throws things.”
“I’ll stay down here with you, Sally,” said Kim. “Keep you company. We can have a nice little chat and a gossip—all girls together.”
Sally looked at her suspiciously, clearly trying to figure out why she hadn’t noticed Kim before. “Who are you? And where did you come from?”
“I am Kim Sterling, and I am from London. I am a Ghost Finder! What I don’t know about ghosts isn’t worth knowing and would probably only upset you anyway.”
“You’re with them?” said Sally. “But you look so . . . normal!”
“It’s a gift,” said Kim.
“You’re not really normal?”
“Not even close.”
“Good!” said Sally. “Because neither am I!”
Kim and Sally grinned at each other.
“You two play nicely,” said JC. “Hold the fort, don’t speak to any strange spirits, we won’t be gone long.” He looked at Kim. “You’re going to talk about me behind my back once I’m gone, aren’t you?”