by Neil Enock
“Are you all right?” he asked, genuinely concerned, then jokingly added, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”
Her cheeks flushed as she blurted, “Actually … I think I may have.”
To her amazement, the old miner’s smile widened. “Ah, well, you’re one of the lucky few then. That’d be Curly’s ghost. Few are those that can see him, and lucky are those that do.” As she looked at him in bewildered amazement, he winked. “Parents never told you that one, did they?”
“No,” she admitted. “Can you tell me more?”
“Second Chance Mines,” the PA announced as the train slowed.
“This is my stop,” the miner said, his voice apologetic as he stood. “But you should talk to old Curly, the station master at First Landing. He’ll be happy to tell you the story.”
“I will, thank you!” she said as he headed to the door.
“Oh, don’t thank me, and don’t let the old bugger scare you,” the miner cautioned. “He’ll likely be a bit touchy about it.”
“Why?” she called after him as the doors slid open.
“Nobody’s seen the ghost in years!” He winked at her as he stepped off the train.
—— «» ——
Sarah smiled, pleased that none of her inner turmoil showed. The elevator glass reflected a calm and composed woman. She had ignored the stares the rest of the train ride to the spaceport, but she had felt every one of them. She knew that she’d seen the ghost boy, but couldn’t understand why nobody else did.
Her glasses darkened as the elevator broke the surface and began its crawl up the tower base. Morning sunlight glared across the unfinished spaceport, glinting off the structures that protruded from the ground. Her view slipped away as the elevator entered the bottom of the control tower.
The doors slid open to the astro lab. She heaved a deep sigh and strode into the lion’s den.
“Good morning, Sarah.” Her mother smiled, looking up from her console. Her father glanced at his watch.
“Hi Mom, hi Dad,” she chirped as she headed over to her own desk. It was strewn with an assortment of sample containers.
“You finished collecting those samples last week. Why are you still coming in late?” her father asked pointedly.
“Don’t bother her, dear,” her mother interjected. “Maybe she met a nice boy and is finally thinking about settling down!”
“Mom!”
“We live in hope my dear,” her mother said unapologetically. “We all have to do our part to grow the colony.”
“Hrumpfff,” her father said. “I’m sure she hasn’t miraculously discovered ‘Mr. Right.’” He made air quotes around the words.
“As it happens,” Sarah said, “I did see a very handsome someone today. Someone that I would love to meet.”
“Where’s he work?” her father asked.
“I don’t know, Dad!” She was beginning to regret saying anything.
“What does he look like?”
“Mom!”
“Where did you meet him?”
“On the train.”
“Is that why you’re late again?” He kept the questions coming. “What do you know about him?”
“He has nice eyes,” she offered.
“That’s what you know?” her mom asked.
“I haven’t got him to notice me yet.”
“Why not? Is he blind?”
“Dad!”
“What? You’re an attractive young woman. What’s wrong with him?” His eyes narrowed. “Is he married?”
“What?” She shook her head in disbelief.
“Is this really why you’re coming in late?”
“Yes, Mom! Well, no. It’s … not like that!” She was exasperated. “I’m just sick of you guys trying to pair me off.”
Her dad seemed like he was going to back off, but suddenly asked, “So, is there a guy, or not?”
“Well…” She looked at them carefully. “Sort of.” She hesitated. “I think he’s a ghost.”
“What!” her mom screeched.
“An old miner on the train said he might be Curly’s ghost. Do you know who that is?”
“It’s just an old tale told to scare kids out of the tunnels under the Zone,” said her dad.
Her mother stayed silent.
“You shouldn’t go around talking about it.” Her dad seemed quite concerned.
“Why not?”
He clammed up and turned back to his console, but her mother had more to say. “We lost thousands of souls that day.”
“And our connection to Earth.” Her dad spun around to face her again. “Curly’s ghost is a cruel reminder of the Crisis. A bad joke.”
Her mother interjected. “Not according to Curly.”
Her dad scowled and turned back to his work. The conversation was over.
“Well then, I’ll just go ask Curly,” Sarah blurted out.
“You will do no such thing,” her dad insisted.
“Why not?”
“Curly was on the train when it happened. He’s … damaged.”
“What do you mean?”
“Bad radiation scarring,” her mom explained.
“And his brain is messed up,” her dad added.
“George!” her mom chastised.
“Well, it is. He cooked up that whole ghost story, and he keeps trying to funnel colony resources to mount a search for it. You just stay away from him! He’s dangerous.”
Her mother shook her head, warning Sarah to let it go.
“Fine,” Sarah said, and started sorting the samples she’d previously collected, labeling them according to their Patreon concentration.
—— «» ——
Curly, the station master, lived deep in the train tunnels under First Landing. At the back of a poorly lit side tunnel, an old stripped-down train car sat beside a knocked-together platform. The awning and rocking chair on the platform made it look like it might be a residence, so she climbed up the steps and knocked.
“Hello?” a grizzly voice growled from inside.
“Hi,” she responded. “Are you Curly?”
A shuffling noise, footsteps and then the door opened. He stayed in the shadows.
“Yes.”
“They said maybe you could help me.”
“Let me guess?” he said. “You’re doing a term paper on why colony ships establish railways as the primary transportation grid, and you want some quotes and pictures?”
“Well, actually—” she started, but he launched into a speech he had obviously given many times before.
“Interstellar colonization requires that almost everything be brought from home, and since the ships hold thousands, there’s a lot of people and things to move about when we get there, er, here. By designing components of the ship to be converted into train cars after arrival, well let’s just say that it is by far the most economical use of weight, space and materials possible. Can you imagine if we had to bring individual vehicles for everyone like they use at home? The ships would have to be twice the size.”
He paused, so she jumped in. “Thank you, that’s great to know, but not why I’m here.”
“Why did they send you to me then?” he said suspiciously. “Hey, you’re not here to try and take my house again, are you?”
“I — no. What?”
“Ever since they’ve been working on the line to New Hope they send people around every once in a while, to try and put my house back into train service.”
“No. Definitely not,” she said.
“Well then?”
She didn’t know how to start.
“Why’d they send you to me?” he asked again.
“He said you might know what’s going on.”
Curly leaned into the light. A radiation burn
ed face is not a pretty sight, but Sarah didn’t flinch.
“Who said?”
“A miner I met on the train.”
He slowly withdrew, turning back into the shadows.
“I keep seeing a boy on the train,” she blurted out. “But — he’s not really there.”
Curly spun around and glared at her. “Who put you up to this?”
“Nobody!” she said. “Nobody else can see him. I don’t know what to do.”
“Get out,” he said quietly.
She didn’t move.
“I said GET OUT!”
She turned and ran.
—— «» ——
“How are you honey?” her mom asked when they sat down for dinner that evening.
“Not too good,” she admitted. “I went to see Curly this afternoon, and he yelled me out of the place.”
“What?” Her dad was instantly angry. “I wasn’t kidding. You can’t go see that crazy fool! I never thought you would actually go there. You stay away from him! Nobody talks to Curly … and Curly talks to nobody. Ever.”
The door chimed for access.
“System?” her mother asked.
“Curly Adams, station master, to see Miss Sarah.”
Her mom and dad just looked at each other, shocked.
“Admit him,” Sarah instructed. “I’ll be right there.”
—— «» ——
Sarah brought Curly into the living room and invited him to sit.
“I’m very sorry … Sarah, is it?” he apologized. “I’m sorry for my behavior earlier. See, nobody has mentioned seeing him on the train for…”
“At least ten years,” her dad finished as he joined them. “Curly.”
“George.” He looked at Sarah again. “I apologize for startling your daughter, but I thought I was being pranked again.”
Her dad started to say something but Curly held up his hand. “Then I realized nobody remembers that stuff. There’s no way it could be a prank.”
“The ghost hasn’t been seen for so long,” her mother said gently as she came in and sat down beside Sarah.
“Well Marion, the old car is back in service again,” Curly said, as if that explained it. “They need every car now that the train is running all the way to New Hope.”
“Who is he, Curly?” Sarah asked.
“A ghost,” he said sadly. “From the Crisis.”
“I don’t see what good it does bringing this all up again,” her dad said.
“But she’s the one that saw him!” Curly said, a bit defensively.
Her mom looked worried, so Sarah added, “I don’t see him all the time.”
Curly was shocked. “You’ve seen him more than once?”
“Uh, a few times, yes.”
“That’s incredible.”
“Curly.” Her mom used that firm voice that meant she was going to get what she wanted. “It’s really good to see you again, but I think it’s time for you to go.”
Curly looked down, acquiesced, and stood up to leave.
“Thank you,” he said to her parents. “Sarah, I’m very sorry I startled you today, but I’d appreciate it if you would let me know if anything further develops.”
—— «» ——
Sarah sat on one of the chairs on the platform, lost in thought about what she should do differently if she saw him again today.
“Miss Templeton?” Curly was standing right in front of her.
“Curly,” she said evenly. “What can I do for you?”
“Nothing, but maybe I can help you,” he said. “The boy on the train, he doesn’t know you’re there, does he?”
Now how did he know that? “No,” she admitted. “I’ve even tried jumping up and waving my arms, and nothing.”
Curly sat down beside her. Reaching into a small equipment bag slung over his shoulder, he pulled out an odd-looking wrist-rack device. “This should help him to see you. Just strap it on your wrist and touch this button to turn it on.”
“What does it do?” she asked.
He hesitated, so she cocked her head, pursed her lips and awaited his answer.
“It’s a Matreon particle emitter.”
“What good will that do?” she asked. “Matreon particles are everywhere. That’s why we colonized this planet.”
“Well you know your history,” Curly said. “This emitter concentrates the particles and focuses them into Matreonic Waves.”
“And you just happen to have a Matreon emitter in your bag?” she asked wryly.
Curly laughed. “You don’t beat around the bush, do you?”
“I’m a scientist. It’s not in my nature.”
“Well … good. Then you will understand that this is a prototype and that I need you to test it to see if my theory is sound. I need to determine if it will attract his attention…” Seeing she was waiting for more, he added, “…to you.”
Sarah looked quizzically at Curly.
“Years ago,” he continued, “I started tracking the ‘ghost’ from the Crisis and I’ve been refining my theory ever since. Now that he has reappeared, I can take the next step.”
“That sounds reasonable,” Sarah said as she strapped the device to her arm. “Now I just have to find him.”
“Car 47,” Curly said. “He’ll always be in Car 47.”
She nodded, and Curly stood to leave.
“And Sarah?”
“Yes?”
“Not everybody can see him.”
“Don’t I know it,” she said wryly.
—— «» ——
Sarah hopped the next train, but Car 47 was not attached. A couple of trains later she found the car. A few trips and a couple hours later she was ready to give up. Then she heard a familiar squeal of steel on steel as they entered the Zone. The lights flickered, and seconds later the boy appeared and began his walk along the car. When he was in front of her, she tapped the button.
The ghost stopped, backed up a step, and began waving his arms frantically. Behind her a passenger screamed. She ignored the scream and waved back. Sarah moved closer to the boy and they locked eyes. His face was a mix of shock and relief as tears welled and rolled down his cheeks. Then he vanished.
The car was abuzz. “What the hell was that?” “It’s that damn ghost story come to life.” “Did you see that?”
Sarah sat down and sighed. He was real, very real. She wiped her face and discovered her own tears.
—— «» ——
“You’re sure he could see you?” Curly said.
“Absolutely,” she replied.
Curly looked deep in thought, as if he were wrestling with something.
“Okay,” he said, and took a deep breath. “Shall we try phase two?”
“What’s that?”
“Getting an image of him,” he said. “I need proof. The council has doubted me for twenty-five years and I need to prove he actually exists.”
“Okay,” she said. “How do I take a picture of him?”
Curly smiled and grabbed his equipment bag. He handed her a standard looking digital capture device. “I’ve added a Matreon emitter.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes,” he said, as he adjusted the emitter and handed it to her.
“Tomorrow morning then,” she said. “Will you be there?”
“No. I need to work on a few things.”
“What could be more important than this?”
He looked at her and smiled happily. “Phase three.”
—— «» ——
The next day Sarah boarded the mid-morning train intent on capturing an image of the boy on the train. She entered Car 47, oblivious to the other passengers and to her parents who had surreptitiously taken a seat at the back of the car.
> Her parents’ whispered discussion about why they should and shouldn’t be spying on their daughter was interrupted when Sarah jumped up and quickly moved to the center of the train car. They watched, open mouthed, as Sarah tapped the device on her arm, then as the boy appeared and came directly over to her. She snapped his picture, and they smiled at each other. She extended her hand to see if they could touch and he copied her. Before their fingers met, the lights flickered, and he was gone.
Sarah sighed, then turned to see her parents standing at the back of the train car.
“We saw him.” Her mom wiped a tear from her eye. “Sarah, we saw him!”
—— «» ——
“Who is he?” her dad asked Curly as they crowded into his cluttered home.
A fuzzy image, displayed on Curly’s monitor, was being systematically enhanced, and it quickly came into focus.
“It’s … my twin brother Raymond,” Curly said, his voice cracking. “He’s looking a bit older than when I last saw him.” Curly choked back a sob. “We were sixteen at the time of the Second Landing Crisis. The second wave colony lightship was about to land at the spaceport, and our family was on the train going to meet it. I was one car back, chasing Raymond through the cars. Suddenly, there was a flash of light, and the train slammed to a halt. The front half of the train, the tunnel, tracks, everything in front of Car 47 vanished as if it had never existed. The car I was in and everything behind it was fine. Car 47, the car in the middle, the one that Raymond and the rest of my family had been in, was still there, but … empty. Everyone was gone.”
Sarah knew what she’d been taught about the Second Landing Crisis. The ship’s light drive had exploded. Everything and everyone near the ship, whether on the surface or underground, had disappeared. Starling City, Second Chance Mines, the spaceport — all gone. Vanished as if they’d never existed. All communication equipment had been lost and no lightships had arrived since. The surface for hundreds of kilometers was still desolated, and that had been twenty-five years ago.
“How come he looks so young?” Sarah asked.
Curly shrugged. “Perhaps he’s trapped in some sort of anomaly. Nobody really knows what happened when the explosion occurred.”
“Maybe that’s why he looks like he’s standing in a bubble.” Her dad pointed to the background of the picture. The fuzzy background did look like the reflection of a bubble.