The Great Game Trilogy

by O. J. Lowe

  Scott ignored him, continued to run his eyes over the readout on the pad in front of him. Subject currently attached to Caller ID 14051991. Yeah, that was his number. Body composition, three tenths carbon monoxide, two tenths charcoal smog, half ectoplasm. Sounded about right. Ghosts used ectoplasm to keep themselves held together, make themselves visible.

  The other stuff was interesting though, none of it particularly good for the lungs. He didn’t have any specific knowledge about chemicals, but he knew that much. Subject displays strong gravitational fluctuations. May be able to manipulate them. He’d seen the void inside. Never been that close to a ghost before. Maybe they all were like that. Either way it was something he could use. Potential power levels unknown. That was helpful. Subject displays stronger than normal electrical synaptic ability…

  “What does that mean?” he asked, glancing over at the tech. If he had a name, it wasn’t revealing itself any time soon. He wore no name tag. “About the synaptic ability?”

  “Synapses are in the brain, they’re the bits that enable you to think, to feel, to communicate. On most spirits, they’re a lot lower than human but slightly higher than you’d expect from a creature in the wild. Like part of the caller is rubbing off on them. That’s the theory.”

  The tech shrugged. “On your ghost, it’s a lot stronger, it’s a lot smarter. Not quite human but… I don’t know, I think there’s elements missing from your ghost you’d find in a human.”

  “Such as?”

  “Conscience. Restraint. Fear. These are all specific notions, argue about nature or nurture all you like but they each plot their own specific path through the brain. They leave their own patterns, every new experience opens new synapses, literally changes who you are. This ghost is doing the same thing. I’ve not seen anything like it before.”

  As he said it, Scott thought back to the bout, not just some of the things that he’d seen but some of what he’d heard, and he could see it, no matter how disturbing he found it. Still Permear couldn’t hurt him. If they truly were bonded, then the ghost was as much part of him as he was Permear.

  “And what does that mean about power levels?”

  “Is this the ghost you used in your bout, Mister Taylor?”

  “Yeah.”

  “A veek is a ferocious opponent, would you say? Tough, savage, uncompromising?”

  “Sounds like a veek,” Pete said. “And it did for Saarth’s pretty easily. Too easy.”

  “Schooled it, I’d say,” Matt offered, smacking his fist into his palm. “Beat its ass. She didn’t see it coming.” The technician nodded in agreement.

  “There you have it then. It means its potential power levels are difficult to gauge. They could be exponentially many times what we’ve already seen.”

  “Wait, are you telling us he happened onto a super powerful ghost entirely by chance?” Pete sounded a little outraged by the suggestion. Never had Scott heard the words ‘lucky’ and ‘bastard’ inflexed in a voice without them being uttered. This day was already turning out to be informative in more ways than one.

  “I wouldn’t put it in those words.” The tech considered it for a moment before shrugging his shoulders. “I’d say that everything happens for a reason. Every action has a reaction. Nothing in nature is this powerful by accident.”

  “Damn straight baby, I’m number one unique.”

  “Just like everyone else,” Scott muttered out the corner of his mouth to the ghost, giving him a sardonic look. “Sorry. And why can’t I keep him in the container crystal? He’s broken two already.”

  “Same problem. His power levels might be too great to contain in a normal crystal. There’s only a finite number of energies they can hold before structural integrity is compromised. It’s not unheard of but I wouldn’t say it’s common.”

  “What do I do then?”

  “Honest opinion? You’ve put yourself in a hole really. Want a shovel?”

  “Gee thanks, that’s helpful.”

  “Professional opinion,” the tech continued as if Scott hadn’t spoken. “About the only thing you can do for the time being is keep doing as you are. The handy thing here is that unlike a conventional spirit, say your stagbug or your weasel… Yeah I watched your bout, can I get your autograph after this is done.” Scott nodded, folded his arms but managed to hide his impatience. “Anyway, the difference here is that your ghost is just that. A ghost. You throw him out into a bout, he might fall and then what? It’s not like he has a physical body to be retrieved.”

  “Wow he manages to make it sound so callous,” Permear mused. “Reckon if I toss him out the window, he be a little more sympathetic? I think he might.”

  “That ghost has some weird personality quirks,” Scott mused. “So just keep as I am until I can find a more stable crystal? Know where I can get one?”

  The tech shrugged. “Not easy to find. Or cheap. I did hear a rumour about a place in Serran that used to weaponize crystals like them. But like I said. Rumour. Depends on how badly you want to go looking. They’re always available. For a price.”

  Scott shrugged. “You hear anything, let me know.” He offered him a hand which the technician shook. “I mean I guess you come across all sorts of stuff like that, right?”

  “Not as often as you might think. I’ll let you know. I got your contact details. Scott. Name’s Samandou N’Kong. Call me Sam, if you like. Also respond to Sammie. And S-Dog.”

  “Of course, he does,” Permear said dryly. “Fucking weirdo.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Scott said. “And there’s going to be no side effects at keeping him outside a crystal?”

  “Well given you kinda don’t have a choice,” Sam said. “It’s not like there’s much you can do. All I’d say is keep him well drilled. Get him good around people.”

  “Oh, he’s doing fine. He’s already not murdered like a dozen people since I got my hands on him.”

  “You are connected. You already saw he can’t go too far from you. But like I said, just remember that he might act human sometimes, he isn’t. Not even close. Permear huh? I like that name. Because he’s permeable?”

  “That was my thinking.”

  “Why couldn’t I get a cool ghost name? Like MC Roast?”

  You really want to be called MC Roast? Scott asked the ghost silently. Why? To Sam, he only grinned. “I was a bit pressed for time. You come up with a better name on the fly.”

  “Damn straight. MC Roast is an awesome name I think. It says I’m badass.”

  “It says you’re an idiot,” Scott muttered quietly. “Sorry. Get some unusual backlash from him, emotion-wise.” Sam looked like he accepted that. “Anyway, autograph… I’ll get that done. Got plans tonight. Need to head off for them.”

  “Doing anything nice?” Samandou wondered. Scott couldn’t help the grin that flashed across his face.

  “Got a date with that special someone.” He took the pad and the stylus, scrawled his signature over it. He’d paid upfront, always a risky thing but not here. These were reputable businesses after all. Right now, it felt credits well spent.

  “Sounds nice.”

  “He doesn’t think so,” Pete said, jerking a thumb towards Matt. “It’s his sister.”

  “Matthew Arnholt?” Samandou asked. “Then your sister would be… Heh very nice, Scott. I saw that interview. You were asked about it.”

  “What’s that?” Matt asked.

  “Kate Kinsella suddenly got interested in my love life,” Scott replied. “Told her it was none of her business.”

  “Bet that was a snappy comeback,” Pete said. “You do know that’s probably going to make things worse?”

  “Yeah but I’m prepared for the bitch. If in doubt, remain silent. Ignore everything I get accused of. Let my silence sell my innocence, show I have nothing to dignify her responses with. She might get bored after a while and write about how Ritellia murders kittens.”

  “Yeah that should work,” Matt said sarcastically. “You can’
t take the moral high ground with journalists. Nobody ever tell you that?”

  “I’m not talking about Kinsella, I’m talking about Mia,” Pete said urgently. “You know what women are like.”

  Scott didn’t say anything, instead thought about his experiences with women and felt the blood draining from his face. “Oh.”

  “Yeah,” Pete said. “You should take my advice. I know what I’m talking about. I’m an absolute monster with women.”

  “That doesn’t sound as good as you probably mean it to,” Matt offered dryly, winking at Scott. “Makes you sound a domestically abusive control freak son of a bitch.”

  “It’s true, it does,” Sam said unhelpfully. Permear nodded, chuckled. He clearly found the whole discussion amusing.

  “Pete, when was the last time you had any sort of physical contact with a woman who wasn’t virtual?” Scott asked.

  “I’m not dignifying that with a comment. Hey, I was hoping to give Weronika Saarth some comforting later. I would destroy that. Bet she’s tight as fuck. Right body on her.”

  Scott and Matt looked first at him, then at each other for a moment.

  “You going to have to explain that to me at some point,” Permear said. “Can you call me Nightmare actually?”

  “No. On both counts.” Scott shook his head. “Not a chance I’m doing that.”

  “You no fun.” He was sure Permear was pouting. “And you mean. Boo!”

  “I guess I’ll see you some point soon,” Matt said, already heading for the door. “Oh, and be a gentleman with my sister, yeah?”

  As he left, Pete snickered sarcastically. “I can’t see that,” he said. “You hit that yet?”

  “What… No!” It took a moment for him to get the double meaning. Sam went back to work and it was just the two of them alone, barring Permear, who since nobody could understand him wouldn’t be repeating the conversation to anyone. He had his suspicions about that ghost, them being that he might turn out to be a little shit prone to abusing his unique abilities. “No, I haven’t yet. Best I got off her was head.”

  “Hey, high five.” Scott slapped his upheld palm, Pete looked in way too good a mood to ruin the images for him.

  At least he’d not picked a Willie’s for their date. There were better places on the island. As comfortingly familiar as the food at Willie’s might be, it wasn’t the best atmosphere to be together in.

  “You know,” Scott said thoughtfully as he speared a chunk of beef with his fork. He’d found himself thinking about why he was glad they hadn’t gone to Willie’s. The restaurant they’d chosen… Well the one he’d picked… was a Vazaran speciality place. The secret to Vazaran cooking was that if it didn’t burn the skin off the top of your mouth, there wasn’t enough spice in it. “I often think of opening a restaurant one day.”

  “Yeah?” Mia looked fantastic, her hair a new style he hadn’t seen before, an array of black, blue and gold cornrows that she must literally have spent every waking second on prepping ever since his bout earlier. It was taking all his self-control not to talk to her breasts, barely contained in the scarlet slashes of velvet making up her dress.

  When he’d first seen her, words had failed him, and she’d seemed pleased with the effect she’d created. He couldn’t explain it but as they’d taken the short journey from her hotel to Makabubu’s, it was like he’d felt every set of eyes they’d passed fall on her. Not just the guys but women as well. Even the owner had glanced for a moment, a jolly overweight woman with dark skin, long darker hair and clothes so brightly coloured they hurt his eyes.

  It was an unusual feeling, simultaneous pride and jealousy. For all he’d experienced with her, he’d never had that feeling with Jesseka. Then again, he found it hard to compare. Jess was fire, angry and passionate until burnt out, Mia was ice, cool and steadfastly determined but with hidden depths beneath the surface.

  “Yeah. Thought about calling it Peace and Quiet and charging two hundred credits minimum for a kiddie meal.” He gave her a grin. “Seem a solid idea?”

  “I don’t know… Are we being serious or…”

  “No, it was a joke. Forget it. Are you enjoying your meal?”

  “I don’t think I’ve heard you crack too many jokes before,” she said. She’d picked a fiery lamb wakashoon, chilli spices mixed with muscardo mushrooms and toro peppers and she was genuinely looking like it didn’t bother her. She hadn’t touched her water. His teeth felt like they were burning and apparently it was only half as spicy as hers. “Stick with the day job, flyboy.”

  “Ha. Least I can say I’m good at that,” he replied before quickly shooting her an apologetic look. “Not that you’re not good at yours. You’re like the best spirit dancer I’ve met recently.”

  Given that the other was a psychopath, he added silently. Bringing that up didn’t feel a good idea. “I’m really glad you came here to support your brother… You know what, scratch that. I’m glad your brother was good enough to get here. Because if he wasn’t, you might not have come out here and I’d have never met you and…”

  “You’d still be stuck in a relationship with Blake?” She said the name without a hint of emotion. In a way, he found that troubling.

  “Well that’s a bit of a sore subject,” he said. “I mean don’t get me wrong, I’m glad to be out of it, but…”

  “Can I ask you an honest question?”

  “Only if I ask you one in return about something else,” he said. “And you don’t hold it against me for talking about my ex on our second date.”

  “Well, I did ask. And well, given that we never finished our first one…”

  “Yeah… I’m trying not to think about that,” he said. “I’d apologise for that but…”

  “Wasn’t your fault. Okay, so you really didn’t like her. You were tired of being with her, yeah?”

  “Yeah.” It didn’t sound like a betrayal. It was in the past now. Ancient history where he was concerned.

  “Why did you stick with her? Why not just end it?” She held both hands up defensively as if expecting a retort, putting them down when none came her way. “I’m just curious.”

  He put his fork down, took a long draw from his water glass as he considered the question. Of all the things he might have been asked on this date, this wasn’t one of them. The respite for his mouth was welcome. He looked at her for a moment and then sighed.

  “I don’t know, okay? I must have had the discussion with Pete more than once. That’s how serious it was. We’re guys, okay? We only talk about that stuff when it is bad. Otherwise we just crack wise and skirt around it.”

  “Yeah I have noticed that.” The grin on her face was palpable.

  “I suppose I did love her. Yeah, she was my first love. We’d been together for a while. Stuff doesn’t last. Time has its ways of burning holes in things you thought would last forever.” That sounded pretentious even as he said it, he tried to mask it with a shrug. “I saw that written down somewhere. Thought it sounded good. But it applies. I guess I remembered the good times a little more fondly than the bad.”

  “Yes, but every relationship has good and bad in it. You should take it as it comes. Too much of one thing isn’t good for anyone,” Mia said. “You need balance.”

  “I’m not disputing that. I remembered the good times, I thought that they’d come again. We’d somehow work through it. And you know what else? I didn’t want to hurt her. I know, I know, she doesn’t seem like the hurting type. I think it’d be easier for her to hurt me than the other way, but you never know. If I’d broken up with her and she’d cried, I don’t think I could have dealt with my final memory of her being that.”

  He picked his fork back up and took another bite of his stupid hot cow meat. Next time, he wasn’t going to pick a place just solely because it’d make him look masculine eating something mouth burning. “Does that make sense?”

  She reached across the table, putting her hand on his. “Yeah, I think it does. And it puts you in a good ligh
t. It shows you care, makes me glad I’m here with you. Hope it was true.” She winked at him, he almost laughed. “So, what do you want to ask me?”

  Scott studied her for a moment, considered what she’d said and then smiled. “Okay. One question to ask you and you answer truthfully. When we first met, I got the impression you were really into me.”

  “Yeah. I was. Okay, question answered, let’s…” She tailed off, still smiling. “Okay, carry on.”

  “I got the impression you were really into me. Why?”

  He saw her exhale thoughtfully. She’d finished her meal, still barely breaking sweat under the intense heat of her food. He let her think while he managed another several mouthfuls of his own until his plate was clear of all bar a few sparse lentils and rice grains.

  “Well physically, you’re not bad looking.” She shot him an impish grin. “That didn’t hurt your chances none.”

  “Oh thanks!” he said sarcastically. “Nice to know.”

  “Well you did ask. But it’s more than that. It’s a bit of a weird story. And you need to go back a few months for that. I hadn’t even seen Matt for a few months before. Hadn’t seen any of the family, I’d been going solo. And I was in Canterage. Belderhampton, I think it was. There’s a large traveller population there…”

  “Yeah I know. It’s a nice city that. They still have that carnival?”

  “Yes!” she said pointedly. “If you’ll let me tell the story, I’ll tell you that that was where I was. I was there at the carnival with a few others, Harvey, Andy, Selena, just enjoying the sights and the experience. It’s quite a flurry of activity, so many lives just pulling together at the same time to create a tapestry you need to be a part of, I remember Harvey was thrilled,” she said before seeing the look in Scott’s eyes. “He wasn’t always bad. He used to be okay. I don’t know what happened to make him snap. Anyway, it’s not about him. We were wandering. And there was a fortune teller there.”

  “Is the gist of your story about to be that some old fraud told you that you were destined to meet a dark handsome man at the Quin-C?” Scott asked. Mia rolled her eyes and sighed.