Ghostfinders 01 - Ghost of a Chance

signatures are popping up all over the place.”
    “Purpose?” said JC.
    “Beats the hell out of me,” said Melody, stabbing viciously at various keyboards with both hands. “I’m getting definite indications of Time shifts. Intrusions from the Past. Some recent, some not. And underneath all that . . . I’m reading Deep Time, JC. From long before this station even existed. This is bad, JC, seriously bad. I’ve never seen so many extreme readings in one place before.”
    “Go on,” JC urged. “Throw caution to the winds and give me your best guess as to what’s happening here.”
    “I do not guess!” snapped Melody. “I am a scientist! I study data and draw logical conclusions. Only . . . there’s nothing sane or logical about any of this. I can’t make head nor tail of what my computers are telling me. If I didn’t know better, I’d say they were scared. All I can tell you is that whatever it is we’ve got down here, it’s spread itself through the whole station. There isn’t a single platform or tunnel here that hasn’t been touched, and changed.”
    “But is it still confined to the station?” JC said carefully.
    “Maybe. Probably. My long-range sensors get confused, the further out they reach. And before you ask: no, I can’t locate any heart or central core to this haunting. It’s all over the place.”
    “It’s bad,” said Happy. He was wringing his hands together, unconsciously. “I need a pill, JC, I really do. A little something, to take the edge off.”
    “No you don’t,” said JC.
    “Come on, JC! You’re feeling this, too; I can tell. Like ice in your blood, and knives at your throat. Like something really bad could come charging out of that tunnel-mouth at any moment. And for everything you feel, it’s a thousand times worse for me. Who’s afraid of the big bad wolf, JC? I am. I am.”
    “You’re no use to me with your brains shut down,” said JC. “There’ll be time for pills later. Now come on; concentrate. You’re stronger than you think. What exactly is it that you’re picking up?”
    Happy slumped down onto the nearest metal seat and looked down at his hands squirming together in his lap. He stopped them moving with an effort. He was breathing hard, sucking the air in as though he couldn’t get enough of it. JC studied the telepath carefully, trying not to let his concern show. He’d never seen Happy this upset.
    “Something awful happened down here,” Happy said softly, his words so quiet JC had to lean forward to hear them. “And I think it’s still happening. Something really nasty has set up home here, and it has plans, JC, big plans. Some strange intelligence, not human, not human at all. It feels . . . like the end of the world.”
    JC nodded slowly. “Then it’s official. Oxford Circus Tube Station has become a bad place, the kind of place that makes ghosts and maintains hauntings. But why? Nothing’s happened here to justify such a change. No train crash, no terrorist bombing . . . No disaster of any kind, man-made or natural. So what was the triggering event?”
    Happy shrugged. He was breathing a little more easily though he didn’t look one bit less miserable.
    “Sometimes,” he said heavily, “bad places just happen. That’s life for you. And death.”
    “Oh come on; there’s always something,” Melody insisted. “Just because we can’t detect it, or recognise it, doesn’t mean it isn’t there. We need to run some experiments, collect some new data.”
    “Spoken like a true scientist,” said Happy. “Remember that time when you wanted to stick a thermometer up that ghost’s behind, so you could measure its core temperature?”
    “That would have worked if you hadn’t stopped me.”
    “Yeah, right,” said Happy.
    “You want a slap?” said Melody. “I’m sure I’ve got one here somewhere.”
    JC left them to it and walked up and down the platform for a while, listening to the flat sound of his footsteps, trying to pin down exactly what it was that so bothered him about the place. They’d been there for some time, making all kinds of noise, more than enough to draw anyone’s attention, but . . . No ghosts, no manifestations, not even a black cat with a bad attitude. Still, there was no doubt that he was looking very cool and elegant in his smart cream suit, and that was a comfort.
    JC liked to remind himself, now and again, of what was really important.
    He looked back at his team. Melody was busy with her