Ghostfinders 02 - Ghost of a Smile

superhuman, not more than human . . . Something else. Gods. And monsters.”
    He stopped to laugh briefly, a sad and bitter sound. “ That is what we were meant to be. Gods and monsters? Intelligent design, or evolution’s last laugh? Who knows . . . All of our knowledge and civilisation was a mistake, because what we were supposed to be would never have needed them.”
    He started laughing again, and this time he couldn’t stop. He rocked back and forth in his chair and laughed his sanity away.
    Melody shut the screen down. “There is more . . . but I don’t think we need to see it. I doubt he had anything else to say.”
    “So,” said JC. “ReSet rewrote the test subjects, from the bottom up, transforming the ones that didn’t die into New People. Whatever they are. And they’re still here, presumably somewhere above us. Those that survived the process . . . I think we need to go up and have a nice little chat with them.”
    “I just knew he was going to say that,” said Happy. “Didn’t you just know he was going to say that?”
    “And what do you mean we , Pale Face?” said Melody. “You heard the mad doctor, gods and monsters, all in the same package. That does not sound like someone you can stroll up to and have a nice little chat with! Give me one good reason why we need to go up and talk with these very scary New People?”
    “Because they’re behind everything that’s happening here,” said JC. “That’s why it’s been so easy for us to get answers. They wanted us to know. Be honest, Melody—would you have been able to open up those files so easily under normal conditions?”
    “No,” said Melody, reluctantly. “I’m good, but I’m not that good.”
    “I don’t think we’re going to be allowed to leave until we’ve seen this through,” said JC. “We’re here for a purpose. I think . . . these New People want something from us.”
    “Why us?” said Happy, plaintively. “Why is it always us?”
    “They might want us dead,” said Melody. “Have you considered that?”
    “If they’d wanted you dead, you’d be dead by now,” said Kim. Everyone looked at her. She shrugged. “That’s what I’m feeling.”
    “Anything else you’d like to share?” snapped Happy.
    Melody leaned in close to him. “Don’t upset the dead girl,” she murmured. “You really want a ghost mad at you?”
    Kim surprised them all by seriously considering Happy’s question, her eyes far away. “Someone is hiding from us. Close by.”
    They all looked quickly around, but the long laboratory stretched away before them, open and still and quiet and completely empty.
    “Is that it?” said JC.
    “For now, yes,” said Kim. “I’m not like Happy. I don’t see or hear things like he does. I just get feelings.”
    “I feel things,” protested Happy.
    “Of course you do,” said Melody. “In your own special way.”
    “Meanwhile, back at the theorising,” JC said determinedly. “Someone was running those ghost shells, down in the lobby. Could that have been the New People? And if so, were they responsible for their deaths?”
    “Seems like they killed all the scientists and doctors, and even some of their own,” said Melody. “What’s a few policemen and security men, after that?”
    “Hold everything,” said Happy. “Kim’s right—someone else is here with us.”
    They all looked round again. Still nothing. The open planning and the bright fluorescent light left nowhere to hide.
    “They’re here,” Happy insisted, his eyes wide and scared. “Lots of them. Getting closer all the while. And they don’t feel at all friendly.”
    JC looked at Kim, and she nodded quickly. “They’re coming from a direction I don’t understand. From . . . outside reality.”
    “Human?” said JC.
    “I don’t think so,” said Happy.
    “Not any more,” said Kim. “They feel . . . awful. Like something human turned inside out, so all the bad things show. JC, I’m scared.”
    “Dead people, come back as something other than people,” said Happy, frowning suddenly. He might have been talking to himself. “Some ghosts are stronger than others. Some are only images, trapped in a repeating moment of Time like insects in amber. Some are recordings, stone tapes playing back. Some are what remains after death. Things that won’t stay dead, or all the way dead, because they’re driven by some overwhelming purpose. And some ghosts are predators . . . leeching energy from the living to