Spirits from Beyond (28 page)

* * *

JC looked slowly around him. The car park was back, and not a drop of rain or breath of wind anywhere. The King’s Arm was still a ruin, though.

“How about that?” said Happy. “After everything we’ve been through, all it took to put things right was the quiet voice of reason.”

“Shame that doesn’t work more often,” said Melody.

“One big tick in the win column, I think,” said JC. “Pity about the King’s Arms, but then, it’s not like Brook’s around to complain about it.”

“To save the inn, it was necessary to destroy the inn,” Melody said solemnly.

“Cold, Mel,” said Happy. “How are we going to explain what’s happened to the townspeople?

“Lightning strike,” said JC.

“What about the local power source?” said Happy. “Is it still here? And what was it, originally?”

“I don’t suppose we’ll ever know,” said JC. “It’s a bad place, that made bad things possible. Hopefully, it will lie quiet now; so long as no-one’s stupid enough to disturb it. I’ll put a note in my report, for the Institute to keep an eye on things, just in case.”

“Let’s go home,” said Kim. “We’re not needed any more.”

“Good idea,” said JC. “I think we’ve done as much damage here as we can.”

TEN

HOME AGAIN, HOME AGAIN

JC lay on his back, on his bed, back in his own apartment. Legs crossed, eyes half-closed, every muscle so relaxed he felt practically boneless. There’s nothing more comfortable than a mattress that knows you and fits the shape of your body like a glove. It was good to be back home, and good to have Kim home with him again. JC lay there and watched happily as Kim fluttered cheerfully back and forth around his new apartment. Clapping her hands, oohing and aahing all over the place, as she checked out absolutely everything. She even stuck her head through closed doors to see what was on the other side. JC couldn’t keep from wincing every time she did that.

In the end, Kim stood at the foot of his bed and shook her head firmly. “You’ve changed the colour scheme!” she said loudly. “I don’t like it! And honestly, darling; this room is a mess. Men shouldn’t be allowed to live on their own. They don’t know how.”

“If I’d known you were on your way back, I’d have made an effort and tidied up a bit,” said JC. “Sorry it’s all a bit of a dump, but . . . I live here.”

Kim sat down on the edge of the bed next to him. Or at least, she did her best—hovering as close to the bed as she could manage.

“Have you phoned Catherine Latimer yet, JC?”

“Not yet,” said JC. He linked his hands together over his chest. “There’s no hurry. We finished the job way ahead of schedule, so she can wait for her official report.”

“I thought you wanted to ask her whether she really did send you there on purpose because of the encounter you had with Lud in London Undertowen?”

“Why bother?” said JC. “I think we already know the answer, don’t we? She’s playing games with us, running us around like rats in a maze, as part of the bigger game she’s playing with The Flesh Undying.” JC looked thoughtfully at Kim. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course you can, sweetie!”

“Did I really die, down there in the London Tube system? Am I only here because some unknown force from Outside took an interest in me, and brought me back to life, for purposes of its own?”

“Of course you’re not dead, silly,” said Kim. “I mean, I’d know if anyone would, wouldn’t I?”

“Yes,” said JC. “But would you tell me?”

Kim looked down her nose at him. “You’ve been spending far too much time listening to Happy, in my absence. Have you been looking after yourself while I was away? Eating properly, and all that?”

“I’ve been keeping busy,” said JC. “Where have you been, all this time, Kim? What have you been up to? You can talk to me.”

“What you don’t know can’t hurt you,” said Kim. “Possibly quite literally. I will tell you everything, JC, when I can. Now hush. You’re tired. Go to sleep.”

“I’ve been . . . having trouble sleeping, all the time you were gone,” said JC.

“Well, that’s all over now,” said Kim. “I’m back, so there’s nothing to worry about any more. Close your eyes. Don’t worry about the dark, or the job, or the Boss, or anything else. You can sleep now. Because I’m here with you, and I will watch over you, all the hours of the night.”

JC smiled and closed his eyes, and was almost immediately fast asleep. For the first time in a long time, sleep embraced him easily, and the cares of the day fell away, and were gone. Kim smiled fondly at him, leaned over, and kissed the air very near his forehead.

“Sleep well, my love. You’re going to need your strength for what’s coming.”

* * *

Happy and Melody sat side by side, on matching chairs, before the big desk in their study. All the usual electronic clutter had been pushed to one side, so Happy could lay out and sort through all the various pills and potions and special mixtures he’d accumulated. He explained their various uses and side effects to Melody, who wrote it all down in her special note-book. Happy paused, to take a drink of water from the glass before him. He’d been talking for some time, and his mouth was getting dry.

“Do you really need to know all this?” he said mildly.

“Yes,” said Melody, firmly. “If I’m going to be a part of . . . this, I need to know everything you’re doing. No more secrets. Since it’s clear to me now that you can’t cope without all this stuff, I need to be able to keep an informed eye on you. How else can I look after you properly?”

“Then don’t bother with all the long names,” said Happy. “I don’t. Go by the numbers. If I’ve marked something with a low number, that means it’s a downer. A high number, an upper. If there’s a letter alongside the number on the label, that means it’s one of my special mixes.”

“I need to know what they all do,” said Melody, glaring at the row upon row of bottles and boxes laid out in neat ranks before her.

“It changes,” said Happy. “According to my mood, my need, and the circumstances. It’s not easy being a drug fiend. What matters is that I know what I need to be able to function.”

“How long have you been taking this stuff?” said Melody.

Happy smiled, briefly. “Too long.”

“Doesn’t your body chemistry . . . adapt to all the changes you keep making in it?”

“Of course,” said Happy. “I need larger and larger doses all the time to achieve the same effects.”

“But isn’t that dangerous?”

“Yes.”

“Then . . . what happens when even the largest doses can’t help you any more?”

“Then I’m screwed,” said Happy. “Hopefully by then, you’ll have come up with some kind of tech to help me. Something to shut me down. Close my eyes and ears to the hidden world. So I can walk along in blinkered ignorance, like everyone else.”

“I’ve already explained the dangers involved in that,” said Melody.

“They’re not dangers,” said Happy. “They’re comforts.”

“I could burn your brain out!”

“You see?” Happy said gently. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. For me, it’s something to look forward to. An end to suffering.”

Melody started to reach out to him, but Happy sat back in his chair and stretched slowly.

“I’m tired, Mel. Can’t we finish this tomorrow? I want to go to bed and get some sleep.”

“I need to get the basics down now,” said Melody. “I need to know what I’m doing, if I’m going to be able to help you. I have to be methodical; it’s how I do things.”

“I’m so tired,” said Happy. His eyes were closed.

“I could make you something to eat,” said Melody.

“I’m too tired to eat.”

Melody sniffed. “You’ve never liked my cooking.”

Happy opened his eyes and smiled at her. “Cooking is an art. And you have always been all about the science.”

Melody closed her note-book, and sat back in her chair. “All right. That’s enough for now. You’re going to have to take me down to the Institute and introduce me to these clever chemical friends of yours. See if we can put at least some of this on a firm scientific footing.”

She looked at Happy and saw that he was no longer listening. He’d nodded off in his chair, his chin resting on his chest. Melody’s heart went out to him. Because she knew that for all her promised support, and all her great intentions, there really wasn’t much she could do for him. The only things that made life bearable for him were the same things that were killing him by inches. And both of them knew it. All she could do was keep him company.

And hold him while he lay dying.

* * *

Catherine Latimer, great high Boss of the ancient and eminent Carnacki Institute, sat alone in her office at the end of the day. She’d sent everyone else home. She sat in her chair, behind her desk, thinking. She should have gone home long ago, except . . . it wasn’t as if there was anyone there, to go home to. There had been loves and lovers, down the years; but either she or the job had always driven them away.

Is this what my life has come to?
she thought.
After everything I’ve done and fought for? To sit alone in an empty room?

Her head jerked up suddenly, as she pulled herself back from the edge of sleep through an effort of will. How long had she been sitting there, thinking? About all the people and Things that threatened not only the Institute but the whole world? The burden is always so much harder when there’s no-one else you can trust, to bear it with you. She smiled briefly. Well, except for the odd person, here and there. She became aware there was indeed another person in the room with her, standing patiently on the other side of the desk, waiting to be noticed. Catherine looked up and smiled.

“Hello, Kim.”