Gap Year in Ghost Town

by Michael Pryor

  Rani knelt beside me. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ I gasped. ‘Nothing that major surgery and a lengthy convalescence won’t fix.’

  She produced a light and shone it in my eyes. ‘I’ll get you to a hospital.’

  I tried sitting up, and it taught me how to use stupid exclamations instead of punctuation. ‘Don’t worry ack It’s fine owowow Just give me a hand nggg Not there aiee!’

  Then I was sitting upright and everything was okay, if a little wobbly. Rani was steadying me with a hand on my shoulder.

  ‘You’ve never seen a Rogue before, have you?’ I asked her.

  ‘Rogue?’

  ‘Thought so. Otherwise you wouldn’t have stopped chopping.’

  ‘Oh. I thought…’

  ‘Yeah. With most ghosts, that sort of vertical bisection would be more than enough to destroy their integrity. Rogues are a bit tougher than that.’

  Her mouth turned down. ‘My sword is useless against those things?’

  ‘Nope. If you’d kept slicing, that would have done the trick. Itty bitty pieces. No coming back from that.’

  ‘But you stopped me.’

  ‘Ah, yeah, I did that.’

  ‘Why? I could have handled it.’

  ‘I’m sure. You’re a whiz with that blade. I reckon you could whip up a truckload of sushi with it, stat.’

  ‘But you didn’t want me to destroy the thing, even though it was going to hurt you.’

  ‘Oh, geez. Help me up, will you?’

  Getting walking was a whole new adventure in pain, but it showed me that nothing was really serious. Hurty, but not serious.

  I stumbled and Rani caught me. ‘You work out, right?’ I asked.

  ‘You know the phrase “None of your business”?’

  ‘Right. Sorry. But seriously, you ever think of writing a book, Sword Fighting Your Way to Fitness?’

  She stepped away and poked me in the chest. ‘You’re babbling. Pull yourself together.’

  ‘Will do. Apologies. Out of line, there.’ I slapped at my jeans and coat. ‘You want to tell me how you turned up here?’

  ‘I followed you from your home.’

  ‘And arrived just in time to stop me taking care of things?’

  ‘Taking care of things? You were making a right cock-up of the situation. I’ll bet you hadn’t even reconnoitred the terrain.’

  ‘Look, I don’t want to seem ungrateful…’

  ‘Hah! You should be down on your knees thanking me!’

  ‘That’s a bit rich.’

  ‘All right. A bow and some forelock tugging will do.’

  ‘None of your outdated class distinctions here. This is Australia.’

  ‘Killed by a ghost in Australia is the same as killed by a ghost anywhere else, I imagine.’

  ‘You’ve got a point there.’ I stuck my hands in the pockets of my coat. ‘On another point, why were you lurking outside my home?’

  ‘Others lurk. I remain unseen.’

  ‘What for? Why did you want to follow me? Looking for a few pointers?’

  ‘Let’s just say I’m curious about your approach.’ She walked off a little. ‘Not that I’m questioning the way of the Company of the Righteous, you understand?’

  ‘Really?’ I unslung my backpack and fumbled for the GPS. I logged the coordinates of our encounter. ‘I think everyone should question just about anything. Thoughtless obedience is the way to dangerous territory. If you question it, then agree, that’s another matter.’

  ‘And that’s almost serious.’

  ‘Hey, I can do serious. Given enough time and a good run-up.’ I wrapped my coat around me and blew on my hands to warm them. ‘I did a bit of research about your social club. It’s been mighty effective.’

  ‘We are strong.’

  ‘Say it loud and say it proud. Cutting down ghosts wherever you find them.’

  Bam. The world exploded. Bells rang inside my skull. Little lights danced in front of my eyes. I stared at her. ‘You hit me!’

  ‘I slapped you, and you deserved it. Open hand, side of the head.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘I’d had enough of your rubbish, that’s what for. The Company keeps people safe.’

  ‘I don’t doubt that. But at what cost?’

  She narrowed her eyes and nearly became frost-covered. I took a step back. ‘I’ve seen too many friends’ names added to our honour boards not to know about cost,’ she said.

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘The Company fallen are never forgotten.’

  ‘Sounds like a quality organisation.’

  She prodded me in the chest with a finger, again. ‘At least it teaches us not to put ourselves in unnecessary danger. At least it teaches us to wield appropriate weapons. At least it teaches us that loyalty means having someone to watch your back.’

  I rubbed my bruised sternum. ‘So what are you doing out here in Australia all alone?’

  ‘I asked for this assignment. It’s a chance to make a name for myself. If I can manage this place effectively, I can look for a more challenging assignment in the future.’

  ‘Uh huh. So how’s it going for you?’

  ‘I can’t say, just yet. I’m still not sure about some of the people I’ve met. They could be a help or they could be a hindrance.’

  Okay. ‘Look, sorry. I didn’t mean to insult the Company, you know, before.’

  ‘Before I slapped you?’

  ‘Yeah, then.’ I rubbed my ear. ‘I maybe went a bit too far.’

  ‘You did.’

  ‘So promise me you won’t hit me again?’

  ‘Promise me you won’t say or do anything stupid again?’

  ‘Fair point. Want a cup of coffee?’

  CHAPTER 7

  Rani liked coffee, but she also liked tea. It takes all types, I guess.

  We’d found a bar in Clifton Hill that was open. Rani had something called rooibos, that sounded as if it was totally made up. I had a short black coffee because I really needed a pick-me-up.

  We found a corner booth. The music was low and old, just right for talking. The decor was a mixture of retro and tacky, with old record covers stuck to the walls and ceiling, and posters advertising dances at the San Remo Ballroom.

  Rani held up her cup of tea. ‘My view of the world of ghosts and ghost hunting comes from my training.’

  ‘Well, in a way, that’s the same for me.’

  ‘My tutors were very firm, though, in letting us know that the Company way was the only way.’

  ‘You had tutors? I just had my family.’

  ‘Early on, I had to go to Saturday morning classes. Evenings, as well, as I got older, and then it was full-time at the academy.’

  ‘They sound like they’re organised.’

  ‘We have to be, with the threat we’re facing.’

  ‘I know about the threat.’

  ‘The way you go about things? I doubt it. Otherwise you’d be more efficient.’

  ‘Efficient? Is that what you call your approach?’

  ‘We dispatch ghosts cleanly, with minimal impact on the civilian world.’

  ‘You’re merciless.’

  ‘You’re sloppy.’

  We stared – glared? – at each other for a while. ‘And we’re now calling each other names.’ I took a sip of my coffee. Espresso, nice and strong.

  She sat back in her chair. ‘So it would seem.’

  ‘Look, I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m not used to having other ghost hunters around. All I’ve had, lately, has been my dad, and he’s not one of us.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘He knows a lot about ghosts. He just can’t see them.’

  ‘That’s sad. And there’s no one else?’

  ‘No one I’d trust.’

  ‘There’s no shortage of ghost hunters around Company headquarters.’

  ‘Lots of competition?’

  ‘We’re supposed to be supportive and collegial.’ She shrugged. ‘But people a
re people. We have rivalries, tension, jockeying for plum assignments.’

  ‘This is a plum assignment?’

  ‘Hardly. I’m afraid that the Company views this part of the world as a quiet and peaceful backwater.’

  I snorted at that. ‘It must have sent you here for a reason, though.’

  That got me a sharp look. ‘It didn’t send me. I volunteered. I see it as a chance to gain experience those at home won’t have.’

  ‘Battling away out here by yourself will look good on your CV?’

  A small smile. ‘Something like that.’

  I toyed with my coffee spoon. I don’t take sugar, but I like playing around with a spoon. ‘So you’re going to be around for a while.’

  ‘My posting is an indefinite one.’

  I fumble-tapped the spoon on the saucer. ‘And after tonight, you still want to learn about the Marin approach to ghosts?’

  ‘I’m thinking of writing a paper on the Marin approach.’

  ‘Another CV winner?’

  ‘No one back at headquarters will be able to produce anything like it.’

  ‘You sound ambitious.’

  ‘If something’s worth doing, it’s worth doing well.’

  ‘You are ambitious.’

  ‘I am. And I’m using you to further my ambitions. And your father, and all the Marins. In a businesslike way, of course. Think of me as an Attenborough, curious about a new species in an exotic location.’

  ‘Okay. Glad you’re up front about it.’

  ‘Don’t be like that. I don’t see any harm in being direct.’

  ‘I’m just trying to work out if I’m offended at being used like this.’

  ‘If one knows that one is being used and one agrees, then what’s the harm?’

  ‘You’re on such shaky ethical ground there, I’m surprised you’re still standing.’ I shrugged. ‘Okay, what do I get out of this?’

  ‘The respect of a fellow ghost hunter? No? What about having someone to talk to who knows what you’re going through?’

  ‘The challenges of ghost hunting?’

  ‘That and the challenges of being part of a centuries-old tradition that is often utterly terrifying and sometimes incredibly frustrating.’

  That sounded mighty appealing. Dad and Bec were good, but there was no way they could know what it was like to come face to face with a ghost and then ease its passage. ‘Deal.’

  ‘Excellent. So let’s continue our association, as long as we can be professional about it.’

  ‘Agreed. No more name calling.’

  ‘Disagreements, certainly, but no name calling.’ She finished her tea. ‘Unless it’s warranted.’

  ‘First thing is you should talk to my dad. He’s the expert on ghost hunting from a Marin family point of view.’

  ‘Your father would do that?’

  ‘Get him started and you won’t be able to shut him up.’

  CHAPTER 8

  Rani was in the secret room when I hurried into the bookshop. She and Dad were hunched over the little desk and a great big book that overhung it. ‘Family,’ I said, pointing at her. ‘You didn’t tell me anything about your family.’

  Dad looked up from the great big book. ‘Hello, Anton. Would you like to go outside and try coming back in again, less rudely this time?’

  ‘Oh. Right.’

  I turned on my heel, went out the door, waited ten seconds and re-entered.

  I bowed, deeply, ignoring the aches and pains from last night’s adventure, and straightened. ‘Good morrow, Father, I hope you are well. My, that is a sprightly tartan waistcoat you’re wearing. Can I fetch you something to soothe your ancient bones? And Rani, it is a pleasure to see you on this delightful day. I trust that all is splendid with you?’

  Dad shook his head. ‘From one extreme to the other, as always.’

  Rani nodded, guardedly. ‘Hello, Anton.’

  ‘Rani has been asking about our family history.’ Dad grinned, and I was pleased.

  You see, Dad was in a bad way after Mum left. I was only ten, and it hit me hard too. I mean, she just disappeared. Here one day, not here the next. I know that ten-year-olds aren’t the most perceptive when it comes to grown-ups, but I remember how she cried a lot after Carl died, and how some days she wouldn’t even get out of bed and that’s when I cried for her. When she went she left a hole in my heart the size of my fist. I’d papered it over, but it was still there.

  So seeing Dad all perky like this was great. If sharing some Marin ghost-hunting tales made his day, I wasn’t going to complain.

  ‘I bought you some tea, Rani.’ I fumbled in my pack. ‘You like Earl Grey?’

  ‘Thank you, Anton, but Leon already went out for some.’

  ‘I don’t know why we don’t have any,’ Dad said. ‘Was it because you threw it all out, Anton?’

  Mum was a tea drinker, but I didn’t want to think about that right now.

  ‘Must’ve been a tea thief,’ I said. ‘Too many of them around here.’

  Dad looked at me, then glanced at Rani. ‘I think I might have a useful book on the history of societies that have split from your Company of the Righteous, Rani. Let me get it.’

  As soon as Dad left, Rani folded her arms. ‘I can’t remember a thing about them.’

  ‘I’m sorry?’

  ‘You wanted to know about my family. My parents died. I was adopted after they were killed.’

  ‘Oh. And you can’t remember them because you were little when they died?’

  ‘It’s more than that. I was only seven when it happened, but when you join the Company of the Righteous, you undergo an initiation ceremony that confers extra strength and speed.’

  ‘Cool magic. So?’

  ‘The magic comes at a cost. You give up part of your memory. Everything I ever knew about my parents is gone.’

  I rocked back, even though she said it calmly, without a hint of anger. Okay, so the Company of the Righteous was all military toughness, but that was cruel. Magic speed and strength were pretty handy, but at that price?

  Everything we’ve done, everything we’ve encountered, the people we’ve loved and the people we’ve hated, they all combine to shape us into what we are today. If you lose a chunk of your memory, you lose a chunk of who you are.

  That’s some price to pay.

  ‘You know they were killed, though,’ I said carefully.

  ‘I’ve been told about them, tiny snippets, and I’ve pieced together more.’ She sighed. ‘When I was about twelve, a few years after I realised that not everyone could see ghosts and learned to keep quiet about them, a scary woman knocked on our door in London. She had a briefcase full of documents. She laid it all out for my parents. Foster parents. She had what she called my lineage right there on the page. My real parents she called the Honoured Fallen.’

  ‘How’d your foster parents take it?’

  ‘They were shocked. Upset. Angry. What you’d expect when a shadowy stranger comes with a hocus-pocus story like that. Then the Company woman told them about the money.’

  ‘She offered your foster parents money if the Company could have you?’

  ‘Not have me, not entirely. I’d live at home, have a normal life, but I’d be trained by Company tutors and instructors until I was old enough to enter the academy. I’d be inducted into the ranks of the Company to battle the ghost scourge and receive a stipend as well. And in return, the Company would take care of them. Find them jobs and they’d get a fat monthly payment.’

  ‘And they took it.’

  ‘They did, but only because the alternative horrified them.’

  ‘Oh. This was an ultimatum, not an offer?’

  ‘If my foster parents didn’t agree, the Company would kidnap me and they’d never see me again.’

  ‘Way to go with the positive recruitment talk.’

  Her eyes were bleak. ‘So I joined and gave up everything I ever knew about my parents.’

  ‘Wow.’

  Rani had cla
sped her hands, and she was squeezing so tightly the knuckles were white. ‘Have you ever been so angry and so sad all at the same time and you had to keep it inside because you knew that talking to anyone about it would be a bad idea?’

  I had half a notion, but this wasn’t about me. I shook my head.

  ‘The trouble was that I knew that memories of my parents were missing, but I didn’t know what those memories were,’ she said.

  ‘It would have been kinder if they’d covered up that hole or something.’

  ‘I don’t know if they couldn’t or they didn’t think it was important.’

  ‘That whole “You have no past once you join this organisation” is so Foreign Legion.’

  ‘Some of my colleagues took it as a badge of honour. They belonged to the Company, body and soul.’

  ‘And you?’

  ‘I threw myself into my studies, and, every opportunity I got, I took my anger out on my tutors and sparring partners.’

  ‘This was a bad thing?’ I ventured.

  ‘Good and bad. I quickly gained a reputation for my combat skills. Bad because I set high standards for myself and anyone who didn’t match them felt my scorn.’

  ‘That doesn’t sound like a happy time, or a happy place.’

  ‘I didn’t have many friends.’ She weighed up her next words for some time before continuing. ‘I’ll tell you this now. The Company isn’t perfect. It has flaws. It could be improved. But I’ve come to accept that it suits me and it suits my talents. I want to be the best and bit by bit I’ve channelled my anger and used it to drive me on.’

  ‘Again, wow.’ I rubbed my chin. ‘And requesting this Melbourne assignment is part of your plan to get to the top?’

  She winced a little as she unclasped her hands. ‘I never said that career planning was my strength.’

  ‘So you’re totally on board as a sword-wielding fanatic?’

  ‘I think you’ll find it’s rather more complicated than that.’

  ‘That should be my life motto: “I think you’ll find it’s more complicated than that.” I might get it put on a T-shirt. Backwards, so I can read it in the mirror.’

  ‘I’d appreciate one, as well, while you’re at it.’

  ‘Did you tell Dad about last night?’ I asked.