Forces from Beyond

by Simon R. Green

  “Please,” she said. To JC and Kim, Happy and Melody. “Break the link. Come back. Because even I’m finding your presence unbearable. And because . . . I don’t think this is good for you. Human beings were never meant to burn this brightly.”

  JC let go of Happy and Melody’s hands; and the glow in their eyes snapped off. Kim stepped out of JC, and the glow surrounding him disappeared. He pushed his sunglasses back up his nose, and the last of the golden light vanished from the office. Everyone relaxed, just a little.

  “Wow!” said Happy. “What a rush!”

  Melody slapped him around the back of his head. He looked at her, honestly surprised.

  “What?”

  JC and Kim looked at each other and smiled. “Imagine what we could do if we really put our minds to it,” said JC.

  “Best not to,” said Kim, kindly.

  Catherine Latimer slowly approached Heather and crouched before her. The secretary snarled at her old Boss, but there was no strength left in her.

  “I will kill you,” she said.

  “I feel like I failed you,” said Latimer. “I should have taught you better. I should have realised . . .”

  “I went to a lot of trouble to make sure you didn’t,” said Heather, pulling what remained of her dignity about her. Trying hard to sound proud and arrogant, and almost bringing it off. “I fooled you. I fooled everyone. Because I knew you’d try to stop me ascending.”

  “Is that really how you see this?” said Latimer.

  “I have what I always wanted!” said Heather. “To be free of all those stupid human weaknesses that kept me back from what I was destined to be!”

  “Were you forced to consume the Flesh?” said Latimer. Her voice was unusually soft, even compassionate. “Were you possessed, dominated by the will of the Flesh Undying? If that’s the case, I promise I can get you help . . .”

  Heather laughed in her face. “I don’t want your help! I don’t need anything from you. I chose to serve the Flesh Undying, and later the cabal. Because they could give me so much more than you or the Institute ever could.”

  “I made you strong,” said Latimer. “Gave you weapons, taught you . . .”

  “You think I wanted to be a secretary all my life?” said Heather, raising her voice to drown out her old Boss. “All the things I knew . . . all the things I could do . . . I should have been running this organisation! Not an old fossil like you. The things I had planned . . . things you would never have dared do! I would have made the whole world bow down and love me. And I still will.” She smiled at Latimer, a cold, mocking thing, like a child that thinks it’s got a secret. “You can’t stop me. Not after everything that’s been done to me, and everything that’s been promised me. That . . . light, that stupid trick, won’t hold me for long. Already I can feel my strength coming back . . . I am the future!”

  “What a depressing prospect,” said Latimer. “I’m really very disappointed in you, Heather. I thought you had more sense.”

  She rose slowly to her feet again, her knees cracking loudly. She took a moment to steady herself, then produced a gun from out of nowhere. She set the barrel against Heather’s forehead and pulled the trigger. Heather’s head snapped back, her bulging eyes wide and startled, as her brains sprayed all over the wall behind her. Latimer sniffed once, made the gun disappear, and looked coldly at her dead secretary.

  “You’re fired.”

  JC was so shocked, he couldn’t speak. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected Latimer to do, but cold-blooded execution wasn’t even on the list. Latimer looked at him challengingly.

  “Well? What would you have done?”

  “I don’t know,” he said.

  “Exactly.”

  JC looked at Heather. At the thick blood dripping down through her blonde hair. He’d thought he’d known her, but apparently he hadn’t. He’d thought he was starting to understand Catherine Latimer, but it seemed he’d been wrong about that, too. He should have known. Anyone who’d slit the throat of an old Egyptian god wouldn’t hesitate to shoot her own secretary.

  Latimer took out her portable door again. This time the black blob responded immediately to her thoughts, pulsing and squirming in her hand. She slapped it onto the far wall, and it became another dimensional Door.

  “People are on their way,” said Latimer. “People we really don’t want to meet. Time to go.”

  “Aren’t we forgetting something?” said Natasha Chang.

  Latimer looked at her. “I don’t think so.”

  “You said you came here to get something capable of destroying the whole world, if necessary!”

  “Yes,” said Latimer. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

  “Well?” said Chang. “Where is it? What is it?”

  “How do you know I haven’t already got it?” said Latimer. She hefted the Gladstone bag she was holding.

  “I didn’t see anything,” said Chang.

  “That was the point,” said Latimer. “Perhaps I have it, perhaps I don’t. Feel free to worry about it on your own time. Now, I require the exact coordinates for your research ship in the Atlantic.”

  “We’re not going back to Project Headquarters?” said Chang. She smiled dazzlingly. “One in the eye for Vivienne MacAbre! I love it! Fortunately, I have the latitude and longitude for the ship memorised. I thought they might come in handy . . .”

  “Don’t tell me,” said Latimer. “Tell the Door.”

  Chang addressed the Door, reeling off a series of figures. The Door swung open, revealing a great expanse of open sea and sky. JC and Happy and Melody moved forward. Kim had disappeared again. Bright sunlight fell into the office, from the other side of the world. JC breathed deeply, drawing in the salt smell of the sea.

  “Time for a sea voyage,” said Latimer. “I think we could all use a nice holiday.”

  “I hate ships,” said Melody. “I always get sea-sick.”

  “I’ve got pills for that,” said Happy.

  “What about Heather?” said JC, nodding back at the body.

  “What about her?” said Latimer. “All aboard.”

  EIGHT

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

  ALL AT SEA

  Through the Door, and straight onto the ship. And JC still found time to wonder at just how quickly he’d got used to such marvels. Admittedly, his working life was packed full of the weird and the wondrous, but he didn’t like to think he was getting jaded. From night-time London to broad daylight half a world away was something that should be savoured and appreciated. He looked quickly about him, half-dazzled by the sudden glare, and confirmed he really was on board a ship, somewhere. A light, gusting wind brought him the salt smell of the sea, and he could feel the deck shifting under his feet, hear the waves lapping against the sides of the ship. He smiled the first real smile he’d enjoyed in ages.

  “Now this is what I call travelling first class!” he said. “No hanging around in the airport for three hours; no worrying where they’re really sending your luggage; no long queues for the toilets . . . I could get used to this.”

  There was no response; everyone else was too busy examining their new surroundings. JC sighed quietly and tried not to feel underappreciated. He looked around him, taking his time. The ship they’d arrived on was long and sleek and vaguely futuristic, with all the latest options. As though someone had flicked through a glossy catalogue, offering all the newest services and gadgets, and said, I’ll have one of everything. High tech gleamed brightly to every side, and wooden crates had been piled up in groups the whole length of the deck. As though even more goodies were just waiting to be unpacked. JC thought to look behind him and discovered that the Door was still hanging unsupported in the air, a few inches above the deck. Latimer peeled it briskly off the air, scrunched it back into a black blob, and tucked it away about her person.

&nb
sp; JC moved over to the ship’s side, wondering vaguely how you could tell whether it was port or starboard when you weren’t sure which way the ship was going, and leaned on brightly polished brass railings to enjoy the view. Dark and mysterious, the ocean stretched away to the horizon under a cloudless blue sky. The sun was strong but not unpleasant, and there was enough of a breeze coming off the sea to feel refreshing. No other ships, no sign of land anywhere . . . and only then did it occur to JC that with the Door gone, he and his people were trapped on the ship, with no way home. He always preferred to avoid getting into situations where there was no obvious exit, or exit strategy. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Latimer . . . All right, it was that he didn’t trust Latimer. Entirely. After some of the things he’d seen her do just recently.

  Natasha Chang stepped away from the group, spread her arms wide, and gestured grandly at the ship. “Welcome to the Moonchilde! The Crowley Project’s very own floating laboratory, think tank for errant geniuses, and mobile headquarters of mass destruction. If necessary.”

  She broke off at the sound of rapidly approaching feet, and the ship’s crew burst out from behind the piled-up crates. They were dressed in smart white uniforms and very heavily armed. Chang turned to introduce herself and her companions, then stopped abruptly as she realised no-one seemed at all pleased to see her.

  The crew opened fire without even shouting any warnings or threats. The sound of massed gun-fire was shockingly loud in the quiet. Melody grabbed hold of Happy and dived for cover behind the nearest wooden crates, guarding his body with her own and cursing him when he didn’t move fast enough. Bullets slammed into the other side of the crates, sending ragged splinters flying through the air. The crates rocked back and forth under the repeated impacts but didn’t fall. Melody checked that Happy was okay, confused but okay, then drew the two guns from her holsters. She peered around the edge of the crates, picked her targets carefully, and returned fire. Two crewmen cried out, and hit the deck hard. The rest of the crew scattered, diving for their own cover. And carried on firing at the newcomers.

  JC watched Melody picking off her targets with undisguised satisfaction, and wondered, When did you get to be such a gun-slinger, Mel?

  He was still standing out in the open, his body surrounded by a golden glow that shone fierce and sharp even in the bright sunlight, revealing that Kim was still inside him. The crew targeted JC again and again, but the bullets couldn’t seem to find him. Catherine Latimer moved quickly to stand behind JC’s glowing figure, and use his body as a shield. Her gun was in her hand again, a sturdy old Webley .45. She fired steadily and accurately, and more crewmen crashed to the deck as the impact of the heavy old bullets blasted them right off their feet.

  JC advanced untouched into the massed fire, picked up the nearest crate and threw it effortlessly at the nearest sheltering crew members. They were thrown back by the impact and crushed helplessly under the weight. Latimer moved steadily along behind JC, still picking off targets. JC could hear Chang screaming at the top of her voice for everyone to stop firing and listen to her, but no-one was paying her any attention.

  And then Happy suddenly stood up, and stepped out from behind the cover of the crates. Melody yelled at him to get down, and grabbed for his arm to pull him back, but he avoided her and moved out into the open. The crew immediately turned their guns to target him.

  “Stand down!” said Happy. And just like that, the crew did.

  “Lower your weapons,” he said. “And step out where I can see you.”

  The crewmen stepped out into plain sight, lowering their guns. From the expressions on their faces, it was obvious they didn’t know why they were doing what they were doing, only that they had no choice in the matter. Melody and Latimer stepped cautiously out from cover, still aiming their weapons, but it was clear the fire-fight was over. The sudden hush had a tense, ominous quality of unfinished business. A handful of crewmen lay dead on the deck, and as many more lay groaning in their own blood, clutching at wounds. JC looked thoughtfully at Happy. He noticed Chang doing the same. She’d written Happy off, and now she had to reassess his usefulness. And, as a possible future threat.

  JC shut down his golden glow, and moved forward to join Happy.

  “Hard core,” he said. “Really. I am genuinely impressed.”

  “Make the most of it,” the telepath said tiredly. “It won’t last.”

  He sat down suddenly on a nearby crate, as though all the strength had gone out of him. Blood dripped from his nose and welled out from under his eyelids. Melody quickly holstered her guns, produced a handkerchief, and mopped gently at his face.

  “You know,” she said quietly, “I am getting really tired of this up-and-down crap. Can’t you take something to stabilise you?”

  “I don’t think there’s a chemical that powerful in the world,” Happy said sadly.

  A few of the crew started to raise their guns again. Natasha Chang strode quickly forward to glare at them.

  “Don’t you dare! Everyone hold their positions! I am Natasha Chang, representing the Crowley Project!”

  “Oh hell,” said a voice from the back.

  Chang looked through the ranks of crewmen and quickly located the owner of the voice. She smiled sweetly at him.

  “Captain Katt . . . Please come forward and join us. I suppose it’s just possible there is some acceptable explanation for this utter debacle.”

  The Captain came forward. He turned out to be a large gentleman, barrel-chested and broad-shouldered, in a smart white uniform and a peaked Captain’s cap. He looked to be in his late forties, with a heavily lined face and a fierce black beard. He moved with quiet, assured authority, only slightly undermined by his obvious caution where Natasha Chang was concerned. It was also obvious to everyone that there was history between them, and not the good kind.

  “Stand down,” he said to his crew. “She’s Project. And a hell of a lot further up the food chain than me.”

  “Some of us are dead!” said a voice from among the crew.

  “Then you should have defended yourselves better,” Katt said bluntly. He stopped before Chang and nodded brusquely to her. “I should have known . . . You always bring trouble with you, Ms. Chang.”

  “You remember!” said Chang. “How sweet. Now what the hell is going on here? Hmm?”

  “You should have warned us before appearing so suddenly,” said Katt. “We’ve been on full alert for days. The Moonchilde has been under constant threat from agents of the Flesh Undying. Project orders are very clear; I am to defend the ship from anyone and anything.” He stopped to look back at his crew. “Your reaction times, and your shooting, were damned sloppy! I can see we’re going to have to run some more drills!”

  The crew looked seriously unhappy about that but had enough sense not to say anything. The Captain turned back to Chang.

  “Being this close to the Flesh Undying is affecting all of us. Body and mind and soul.”

  Catherine Latimer stepped forward. “How, exactly, Captain?”

  Katt looked to Chang, who nodded briefly. “Tell them everything. They’ve been cleared for all scientific information. Talk to them as you would to me.”

  “Don’t tempt me,” said Katt. “Might I inquire who these people are?”

  Chang smiled happily. “Captain Katt, allow me to introduce Catherine Latimer, once Head of the Carnacki Institute, along with JC Chance, Melody Chambers, and Happy Jack Palmer, once agents of the Institute. Now our allies, if not necessarily our friends, in the face of a common enemy.”

  Katt reacted immediately to Latimer’s name and bowed respectfully to her. JC felt a little bit hurt that the Captain hadn’t at least heard of him and his team.

  “Here on the Moonchilde, things have been going straight to hell,” Katt said to Latimer. “It started with bad dreams. Night terrors. Men waking up screaming in the early hours. We’ve
all been affected. It’s getting so none of us dare go to sleep any more. And, sometimes, we see things. Walking the deck at night, or climbing over the sides, or swimming in the waters round the ship. There’s a constant feeling of being besieged . . . that something will swarm all over us the moment we let our guard down.”

  “You’ve been having visions?” said Latimer.

  “Sometimes,” said Katt. “Other times it’s Flesh. Parts of the thing below. I don’t believe it knows we’re here, or feels threatened by what we’re doing, or it would have attacked us directly by now. I think it just dreams sometimes, and its dreams take on solid form. Visions wrapped around bits of Flesh that have flaked off from the main body of the thing or been discarded . . . The scientists haven’t been much use in explaining what’s happening. But strange things have come to this ship, dangerous things, walking the night with bad intent. We’ve challenged a few but haven’t been able to retrieve anything solid for the scientists to examine.”

  “Have you tried just shooting them?” said Chang.

  “Of course,” said Katt. “It doesn’t help. Just draws their attention. And that’s when the really bad things happen. Mostly now, we just hide until they go away.”

  Chang shook her head disgustedly. “You are seriously letting the side down, Captain.”

  “Wait till you’ve been here a while,” said Katt, completely unmoved by her scorn. “Wait until you’ve seen what we’ve seen.”

  “A haunted boat,” said JC. “We’ve come to the right place.”

  “How many people have you lost to these things?” said Latimer.

  “Seven,” said Katt. “So far.”

  “If it’s all down to being this close to the Flesh Undying, I’m surprised you haven’t just sailed away,” said JC.

  “We’re a Project ship,” said Katt. “No-one here is going anywhere without orders.”

  “Damn right,” said Chang. “We need to talk, Captain. Have your crew clean up this mess.”