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“It’ll all end in tears,” Melody said vaguely, peering from one glowing display screen to another. “I mean, they can’t even touch each other. Ever.”

“There is more to love than the physical side,” said Happy.

“Couldn’t prove it by me,” said Melody.

“You worry me sometimes,” said Happy. “Actually, you worry me a lot, but… JC and Kim worry me more. It’s like watching a train crash in slow motion, and not being able to help anyone.”

“Sometimes, people have to sort things out for themselves,” said Melody. “Even if one of them isn’t people any more.”

JC and Kim walked happily along together, sticking to the factory wall. Close to each other but not touching. It was easier that way. His footsteps echoed quietly, hers didn’t, but they both pretended not to notice. Every now and again they’d walk through a falling shaft of light, and Kim would disappear for a moment.

“I am working on refining my condition,” said Kim. “It’s not easy. Being a ghost doesn’t exactly come with an instruction manual. But I’m sure it must be possible to become solid if I can concentrate in the right way. I can become real, for you.”

“It really doesn’t matter,” JC said patiently. “The living and the dead can love each other, but not as people do. That’s the way it is. I found you, and you found me, and I can live with that.”

“I can’t even get into bed to sleep beside you!” said Kim. “I don’t sleep, but I do like to lie beside you. Whether you’re awake or not. I can lie down, but if my concentration wavers, I start drifting upwards, and end up bobbing by the ceiling!”

“I don’t mind…” said JC.

“Well you should!”

They stopped and looked at each other, then they both managed a small smile.

“I’ve had sex without love,” said JC. “Love without sex is better. Sometimes frustrating, yes, but… course of true love never did run smooth.” He looked at her for a long moment. “Can you feel… anything?”

“Mostly, I feel cold,” said Kim. “Sometimes, when you’re asleep, I run my fingertips down your face, then I think I feel something… but it’s hard to be sure. I don’t have a body, only a memory of one. Mostly, I feel… distant. Like I’m hanging on to the world by my fingertips… Don’t say you’re sorry again, JC, or I’ll slap you!”

“Like to see you try,” said JC. “Look, dead or alive, we’re both still human. Man and woman. We care for each other, in a human way. We have that in common, and that’s enough. Now, let’s get back to the others. They’re talking about us, you know.”

“You can hear them?” said Kim. “I can’t hear them…”

“No,” said JC. “But if you were them, wouldn’t you be talking about us?”

They laughed, and returned to Happy and Melody, and the fully charged electronic equipment. They both fell silent as JC and Kim approached, and Happy did his best to look innocent but couldn’t pull it off. Melody didn’t even look up from calibrating her short- and long-range sensors. JC indicated to Happy that he wanted to walk and talk with him alone. Happy immediately looked worried and guilty in equal measures, his standard default position. JC laughed and led him away, so they could talk privately. Kim hovered next to Melody, pretending an interest in the high tech, some of which immediately stopped working, in protest to her very existence.

“I’m getting a really bad feeling about this place, Happy,” said JC. “And I’m not even psychic. So what are you feeling? What are you seeing and hearing with that marvellous mutant mind of yours?”

Happy scowled, looking around the deserted factory in a decidedly shifty manner. “To be honest, JC, I think opening up in here could be really dangerous. Even with all my mental shields battened down and welded shut, I can’t help picking up things. Really unpleasant things. We’re not alone in here. Something’s watching… and waiting. There’s no telling what might come jumping out of the shadows the moment I lower my shields.”

“Man up, Happy,” said JC. “Show some balls and shake them at the shadows. You’re the team telepath, the mental marvel, so get on with it. Justify your presence here, or I won’t sign off on your expenses claims.”

“Bully,” muttered Happy. “Can I at least take a few of my little helpers? My chemical companions in need?”

JC sighed. “I thought we were weaning you off those?”

Happy wouldn’t meet his gaze, fumbling in his pockets. “Most people take pills to see strange and unusual things, I take pills to keep the weird away. You’re the reason I need these things, JC, you, and the job. If you could See the things I See… or maybe you do, these days, with those amazing new eyes of yours…”

“Stick to the subject,” said JC.

“I am! The world isn’t what most people think it is,” Happy said sadly. “It’s a bigger world, and far more crowded. And if you could see what’s peering over our shoulders and tugging at our sleeves, you’d fry your neurons with powerful chemicals, too. If you want me to track down what’s in here with us, and look it in the eye, I need a little something to back me up!”

“Take your pills,” said JC. “You’re all grown-up now. You know what you need.”

Happy produced half a dozen plastic containers and rolled them back and forth in his hand, squinting at the handwritten labels. He’d moved far beyond mass-produced pharmaceuticals and worked his own mix-and-match magic to produce skull-poppers and mind-expanders of such ferocity they would have made Hunter S. Thompson weep with joy. He finally settled on some fat yellow capsules and dry-swallowed three with the ease of long practice. He straightened up abruptly, as though throwing off a heavy weight, a wide grin stretching across his face.

“Oh yes, that’s the stuff to give the boys! Nothing like self-medication to hit the spot!” He giggled suddenly. “Who’s the man? Watch me now! Side effects are for wimps! My heart’s pounding and my liver’s whimpering and my brain is running on nitrous oxide! I’m moving so quickly, I’ll pass myself in a minute. Slow slow, quick quick slow suicide perhaps, but it beats the hell out of self-harming. Now, let me See… I was right. We’re not alone in here. I’m picking up all kinds of savagery, and not only from the murder. Rage, hunger, violence… and it’s not human. Not even alive, as such. Old, very old… Something really bad happened here, JC, and I think it’s still happening.”

“That’s it?” said JC, after Happy had been quiet for a while. “I don’t know why I keep you around. Could you be any more vague? There are psychic pets on television who are more specific than you!”

“I’m quite willing to go back and wait in the van till it’s all over,” said Happy. “Oooh… I think my fingertips are floating away

…”

“Walk on,” said JC.

They made a full tour of the perimeter, sticking close to the factory walls. The shadows were growing longer, deeper and darker, as the light falling through the windows slowly faded away. The silence made the wide-open space seem even more oppressive than the encroaching night. It was growing colder, too, far more than the late evening could account for. Their breath smoked and steamed on the air before them; but only Happy could produce actual smoke rings. JC kept looking about him, convinced he could see something about to emerge from the deepening shadows, but everything remained stubbornly still and silent. They finished their tour without result, and rejoined Melody and Kim at the equipment centre.

“Did the police find any physical evidence?” JC said immediately. “Anything useful, or indicative?”

“Not a damned thing,” said Melody. “I read the official reports. They didn’t turn up a thing. Which is surprising, in this CSI day and age.”

“Tell me again about the state of the body,” said JC. “How did Albert Winter die?”

“Messily,” said Melody. “Ripped apart. Bones broken, organs torn out, skin shredded. You’d have to put a man through a wood chipper to do that kind of damage.”

“So we are assuming a supernatural death?” said Happy. “A supernatural killer? Oh dear. I can feel one of my heads coming on.”