Forces from Beyond

by Simon R. Green

  “Living things or ghosts?” JC asked.

  “Almost certainly one or the other,” said Happy. He looked up and down the main deck, considering. JC could tell Happy was seeing a lot more than was in front of him. JC sometimes wished he could see all the marvels and wonders of the hidden world, too, until he remembered what seeing them had done to the telepath.

  “The night is full of information,” said Happy. “The aether is saturated with strange intelligence . . . but I can’t tell where it’s coming from.”

  “The Flesh Undying?” said JC.

  “Wouldn’t surprise me at all,” said Happy.

  “You’re not being very helpful,” said JC.

  “You’re lucky I’m standing upright and talking coherently,” said Happy, unmoved. “I’m out of my depth here, JC. I’ve never felt anything like this. I’m not sure anyone has. We are right out on the edges of what’s real . . .” He looked thoughtfully at JC. “And there’s something different about you. It’s like . . . there’s more of you. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’d been dipping into my stash. What have you being doing, JC?”

  “Communing with the gods and getting some interesting if highly frustrating answers,” said JC. “Climbing Mount Olympus isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

  “And people say I’m weird,” said Happy.

  “Oh they do,” said JC. “Frequently.”

  The two men shared a small smile. The smile of those who’ve been through things together no-one else could hope to understand. Or joke about.

  “I think our arriving here has changed things,” said Happy. “Introduced a new factor into the equation; or more likely, a spanner in the works. It could be . . . that the Flesh Undying was disturbed by the opening and closing of the Drood Door. Or maybe it just recognised us. We have been a considerable thorn in its side, after all.”

  “You seem very lucid,” said JC.

  “Yes,” said Happy. “Make the most of it. It cost enough.”

  Melody came over to join them, shooting JC a hard look. “You ask too much of him, JC.”

  “Let me feel needed, love,” said Happy. “It’s all I’ve got left. Apart from you, obviously. I didn’t say that fast enough, did I?”

  “You should have said it first,” said Melody.

  “I don’t know why you put up with me,” said Happy.

  Melody grinned. “Because you’re great in the sack. Nothing like being in bed with a mind-reader, to locate those important little places.”

  “Okay!” said JC. “Far too much information . . .”

  A sudden flurry of sound and movement caught their attention, half-way down the deck. Katt headed straight for it, with everyone else right behind. Crewmen were crowding together at the railings, staring at something out on the waters. Spotlights converged on one particular spot, lighting up the dark surface, but didn’t reveal anything.

  “Is it the Flesh Undying?” said JC.

  “Yes,” said Happy. “I can feel it. Like thunder in the distance. Is it dreaming? Or waking up? Hard to tell . . .”

  “Careful, Happy,” said JC. “Don’t try to make direct contact.”

  “I’m not stupid,” said Happy, with some dignity. “Direct contact with something that big would have my brains leaking out my ears. I’m just observing. From a distance.”

  “A safe distance?” said Melody.

  “No such thing, here,” said Happy. “This whole situation is a spiritual mine-field. And we are tap-dancing our way across it.”

  “A mental image I could have done without,” said JC.

  “Can you tell? Does the Flesh Undying know what we’re planning?” said Katt. “Does it know about the bathysphere?”

  “Knows . . . is probably too strong a word,” said Happy. “It sort of knows about this ship, but it doesn’t know where we are. I think it just feels threatened.”

  “Is it waking up?” said Katt.

  “It’s never been asleep, as we understand it,” said Happy. “Just . . . distanced from the world.”

  “How do you mean, distanced?” said Latimer.

  “It’s crazy,” said JC.

  Happy looked at him. “I wouldn’t be at all surprised.”

  They were all standing pressed up against the railings now, looking out over the ocean. All they could see was the surface of the waters. There could have been anything underneath, anything at all. Melody shivered suddenly, perhaps from a cold breeze.

  “I wish I had my equipment with me,” she said. “So I could make sense of what’s happening.”

  “This close to the Flesh Undying, science as we know it breaks down,” said Latimer.

  “Horseshit,” said Melody. “Science is science. A tool for measuring and understanding things. The Flesh Undying may be seriously weird, but let’s not get over-impressed. It’s just a big beastie from somewhere else. Prod it with a hard enough stick, and it’ll tell us everything we want to know. If you don’t believe in a scientific investigation, oh wise and revered Boss, why are we going down in the bathysphere in the morning?”

  “Because we’ve run out of everything else to try,” said Captain Katt.

  Natasha Chang came sauntering over to join them at the railings. She’d been taking her own quiet tour around the main deck, to see what there was to see and sneer at it. Because she never trusted anything until she’d seen it with her own eyes. And preferably kicked it a few times. She didn’t seem nearly as unsettled as everyone else, just irritated at a situation she didn’t understand and couldn’t control.

  “I’ve had enough of this sneaking around,” she said bluntly. “Give me something I can shoot holes in.”

  “You cannot shoot an apparition, Ms. Chang,” said Katt.

  “I could always eat it,” said Chang.

  Katt looked at her, then turned to Latimer. “Really?”

  “Apparently,” said Latimer.

  Katt turned back to Chang, not even trying to hide his disgust. “Unnatural creature . . .”

  “You work for the Crowley Project, Captain,” said Chang. “And as long as I’m here, I represent the Project. Which means you work for me. So choose your next words very carefully, unless you feel like walking home. With an anchor strapped to each ankle.”

  “You might eat the ghosts of men, Ms. Chang,” Katt said steadily. “But the things that walk my deck at night are nothing so ordinary.”

  “I’m not ordinary either,” said Chang.

  “I couldn’t agree more,” said Katt.

  He moved away quickly to give orders to his crew, while Chang was still working out how to take that. The Ghost Finders exchanged looks but said nothing. Though there was a certain amount of smirking. And then JC looked round sharply as he realised Kim was no longer with them. He hadn’t seen her go. He looked up and down the deck, but there was no sign of the ghost girl anywhere. He stepped away from the railings and called out to her surreptitiously; but there was no response. He turned to Happy, lowering his voice.

  “Kim’s gone again. Can you track where she is?”

  “No,” said Happy. “I can only read the thoughts of the living. I’ve never been able to read Kim. Sometimes, I can’t even see her, even when you’re looking right at her.”

  JC was taken aback. It had never occurred to him that the others might not be able to see Kim as easily as he could.

  “So, sometimes it looks like I’m talking to myself?”

  “Oh yes,” said Happy. “Freaks Mel out, every time. You wouldn’t believe how much effort she’s put into trying to come up with some kind of tech that would allow her to see Kim all the time, like you. Mel hates being left out of things.”

  “And you never said anything?”

  Happy shrugged. “We got used to it. I always thought it was funny.”

  Melody saw them talking togeth
er and came over to join them, determined not to be left out. “What is it? What’s happening?”

  “Kim’s gone walkabout. Again,” said Happy.

  Melody sniffed. “Witness my total lack of surprise. Probably just as well. The mood the crew are in, they’re ready to open fire on anything unnatural.” She saw that JC was genuinely concerned, and her tone softened. “She’s probably just looking around. You know she likes to sneak up on people and listen in on conversations. I wouldn’t worry, JC. Really.”

  “Not when there are so many other far more worrying things to be concerned about,” said Happy. “It feels more and more to me, that this ship is surrounded. Under siege. Something doesn’t like our being here.”

  A crewman on the other side of the deck cried out suddenly, pointing over the railings at something in the waters. Everyone rushed across the deck to join him. More spotlights snapped on and swivelled back and forth, their fierce light punching through the dark, but it was still hard to make out anything. The crew crammed together at the railings, training their guns on the dark waters. JC could feel the tension building. Happy stepped back a few paces, disturbed by the presence of so many agitated thoughts.

  A soft wind blew in off the surface of the waters, cool and damp. JC could feel it on his face, taste the salt on his lips. Looking out into the dark, it felt like someone was looking back at him. His hands clenched into fists. None of what was happening aboard the Moonchilde fitted any of the things he was used to. He didn’t know what to do. He really wanted some kind of ghost to show up and start walking the deck. He’d know what to do, how to cope, with something as ordinary as a ghost.

  Everyone reacted sharply at a new movement in the waters, some distance from the ship. It looked like something really large had surfaced and rolled over. Big as a whale, maybe even bigger. Except . . . JC couldn’t see anything out there. Just the agitated waters, with no sign of what caused it. Several crewmen opened fire anyway, to make their feelings clear. They sprayed the surface of the ocean with heavy bursts until the Captain yelled at them to stop.

  “Wait till you’ve got a target! Preserve your ammunition!”

  The firing died raggedly away, its echoes hanging on in the still of the night. Chang pushed in beside Katt, leaning right over the railings for a better look.

  “Is this an attack?”

  “Possibly. Or something leading up to one,” said Katt. He frowned unhappily. “It can’t be a coincidence, that all of this started up after we decided to deploy the bathysphere.”

  “I thought you said things like this happened every night?” said Latimer.

  “Not like this,” said Katt. “This feels . . . more serious. We can’t lower the bathysphere if the Flesh Undying knows it’s coming.”

  “It doesn’t,” said Happy. “Not specifically.”

  “Are you sure?” said Katt.

  “Yes, and no,” said Happy.

  “You’re really not very helpful,” said Katt.

  “You noticed!” said Happy. And then he grimaced and shook his head heavily, as though trying to dislodge something. Melody looked at him carefully.

  “Do you need a lie-down, Happy?”

  “There’s too much happening!” Happy said loudly. “Too many people thinking. Everyone stop thinking! So much noise in the night . . . It feels like my head’s going to explode!”

  “Try not to get any brains on my nice jacket,” said JC.

  Happy turned on him, then relaxed, just a little. They shared their small smile again.

  “Male humour,” said Melody. “Male bonding. It’s a wonder the species has survived this long.”

  “Back under control, Happy?” said JC.

  “Better,” said the telepath.

  Katt looked sternly at Happy’s flushed, sweaty face and his huge eyes. “Is this man on drugs?”

  “Usually,” said JC.

  “I want this man off my ship!” said Katt. “He’s a danger to himself, and to my people. Get him out of here, or I’ll have him removed!”

  “No you won’t,” said Melody.

  “Why not?” said Katt, rounding on her.

  “Well,” said Melody, entirely unperturbed by his manner or the loudness of his voice, “First, because I’d kick the crap out of anyone who tried. And second, because we need him. He’s the best advance warning system in the business.”

  “Exactly!” said Happy. “That’s me, the canary in the cage. Want to hear a song? I do requests . . .”

  “Concentrate,” said JC, before Latimer could. “What’s going on, Happy? What’s here in the night with us?”

  The telepath looked up and down the deck, frowning thoughtfully. Seeing the things only he could see. He cocked his head on one side.

  “Odd . . .”

  “What?” said Katt. “What is?”

  “There are things in the water,” Happy said slowly. “Swimming around the ship. Circling, but keeping their distance. It’s like they can’t quite find us. Or maybe . . . they’re waiting for something.”

  “What kind of . . . things?” said Katt, peering out into the dark.

  “Unnatural,” said Happy. “Unreal. Made things . . . I think you might be right, Captain. The Flesh Undying’s dreams, and perhaps even its random thoughts and impulses, are taking on solid form. They’re projections, sendings . . . I’m trying hard to sound like I know what I’m talking about, but when it comes to something like the Flesh Undying, all I can really offer are best guesses.”

  “Are these sendings dangerous?” said JC.

  “Of course!” said Happy. “You said it yourself—the Flesh Undying is insane. It doesn’t have good thoughts.”

  “You said . . . it doesn’t know we’re here,” said Latimer.

  “If it did, it would have destroyed us by now,” said Happy. “We’re just . . . an irritant, on the edge of its senses. And it’s trying to scratch us.”

  “I think I felt happier before he started telling me things,” said Katt.

  “I get that a lot,” said Happy.

  JC took off his sunglasses, and the nearest crewmen cried out in shock and surprise, as golden light spilled from his eyes. Catherine Latimer moved in beside him, and her eyes glowed golden, too. Several crew members backed away, and Captain Katt looked like he wanted to. But he stood his ground and yelled for his men to hold their position; and most of them did. JC and Latimer leaned out over the railings, turning the full force of the otherworldly light from their eyes onto the dark waters. They still couldn’t make out anything. Either because there was nothing out there or because it was determined not to be seen.

  “Can you see anything?” JC said to Latimer.

  “No,” said Latimer. “Can you see anything?”

  “No,” said JC. “But . . .”

  “Yes,” said Latimer. “I’d have to go along with that. I can feel something . . . a presence in the night, like a gathering storm.”

  “What does that make us?” said JC. “The lightning rod?”

  Everyone looked around sharply as the Moonchilde was hit by poltergeist phenomena. Everything on deck not securely attached or tied down started jumping around, or clattered loudly, or slid along the deck. Things banged together or spun in place, while steel cables thrummed loudly like plucked strings. Chairs overturned and kept on turning, somersaulting along the deck. Tall standing aerials tied themselves in knots. The wooden floor-boards of the deck groaned loudly, as though they’d been subjected to sudden and unbearable weights and pressures. Arc-lights flared and dimmed, and some of the bulbs exploded.

  The crew bunched together in small groups, gripping their guns till their knuckles whitened. Most stood back-to-back, so they could cover every direction at once. But none of them ran. They’d been through this before and knew running wouldn’t help. And then everything stopped, quite suddenly. Nothing moved. Not a
sound anywhere.

  “So much for the Overture,” said Happy.

  Crewmen turned their guns back and forth, desperate for a target. Katt moved slowly out into the middle of the deck, his head held high. His footsteps were loud and carrying on the quiet.

  “Is that it?” said Latimer. “Is it over?”

  “It hasn’t even started yet,” said Katt. “It’s never over till somebody’s died.”

  A series of loud, booming noises ran along the underside of the ship, heavy and measured, as though something in the waters was banging against the hull. The whole superstructure shook and shuddered from the strength of the blows, starting at one end of the ship and running quickly the whole length of the Moonchilde.

  “Something wants our attention,” said JC.

  “Or something wants to get in,” said Melody.

  Their end of the ship suddenly rose out of the water and into the night sky. It kept on rising, and the deck tilted sharply. Everyone had to grab onto something to keep from tumbling down the steep hill the deck had become. Everything loose skidded down the deck and shot off the far end. The Moonchilde groaned loudly as its superstructure flexed in ways it was never meant to. Brass railings bent and snapped under the strain. The bottom end of the ship disappeared beneath the surface of the ocean, lost under a great swell of dark waters. As though something was pulling it down. And then the high end suddenly fell back again, crashing into the ocean. Water splashed up and over both sides of the ship, drenching the crew.

  The Moonchilde rocked back and forth, settling slowly in the dark waters. Crew members reluctantly released their handholds. Katt moved among them, speaking calmly and reassuringly, even as he looked quickly around for signs of damage. Everything seemed intact though a whole bunch of loose equipment had been lost.

  “Oh well,” said Happy. “Worse things happen at sea.”

  “It’s like something big pushed up against the bottom of the ship,” said Latimer. “I mean . . . really physically big.”

  “Not the Flesh Undying,” Happy said firmly. “It’s miles below us, and it doesn’t move. I’m not sure it can.”