Ghostfinders 02 - Ghost of a Smile

free from all that. We will go on and live lifetimes and become what we were always supposed to be!”
    JC considered him thoughtfully. “What if these New People you’ve brought about aren’t human? What if they don’t look like us, think like us, feel like us?”
    Patterson smiled. “Would that really be such a bad thing? Would the complete replacement of Humanity be such a great loss?”
    “Okay, someone’s taken the train to freaky town,” murmured Happy.
    “Why are you here now?” said JC, moving up another step towards Patterson. “Why show yourself to us? You’ve been conspicuous by your absence, until now.”
    “You were never really meant to get this far,” said Patterson. “I let you in because . . . we had to let somebody in. We needed someone to clear up the mess. All the unpleasant side effects to our glorious creation. But now it falls to me to stop you here. To stop you interfering with things you’re incapable of understanding or appreciating. My organisation has plans for the New People. And we can’t have you upsetting them with your unwanted presence.”
    “Given everything we’ve overcome and dealt with to get this far,” said JC, “how do you plan to stop us?”
    Patterson actually smirked, he was so pleased with himself. “You think you’re the only one to quietly remove useful and highly dangerous items from the Carnacki Institute Armoury? Look what I’ve got here . . .”
    He extended one hand, so they could all see what was nestling on his palm. A small black box, gleaming and glistening, covered with rows of curling brass sigils. Everyone looked at the box, then looked at Patterson.
    “I have to say,” said Melody, “I have eaten things that looked more interesting than that.”
    “Hell,” said Happy. “I’ve crapped more interesting things than that.”
    “Typical,” said Patterson. “I show you a wonder of the world, and all you can manage is vulgarity. This . . . is a Boojum. Because it makes things softly and silently vanish away. I say the Word, and whatever I point the box at . . . isn’t, any more. You’re all going to disappear, right here, and no-one will ever know what happened to you. You’ll be a small part of the great Chimera House Mystery—all the people who worked here, or walked in one night and were never seen again.”
    “Cut the crap, Patterson,” said Melody. “I hate it when people give cute names to machines. Boojum, my arse. Lewis Carroll has a lot to answer for. That box is nothing more than a simple dimensional frequency adjustor. Took me a moment to recognise it, it’s so primitive. I built one of those when I was sixteen! Out of bits and pieces I ordered from the back pages of the Fortean Times !” She looked at JC and the others because they were all looking at her. “We all have our own basic frequencies, that tell us which dimension of reality we belong to. Or possibly vice versa. That box changes people’s frequencies, so that they drop out of this reality and into another one.”
    “And you built one when you were sixteen?” said Happy.
    “Well,” said Melody, “I didn’t say it actually worked . . . But the theory was sound.”
    “So,” said JC, “that box is still basically a Boojum, for all practical intents and purposes, in that it can make us all disappear. Do you have any defence against it, Melody?”
    “If I had my equipment with me . . .”
    “I’m going to take that as a no,” said JC. “So hush now, children, while daddy negotiates.” He smiled engagingly at Patterson. “Let’s start with a basic Why? shall we . . . ? Why did you, or your unseen lords and masters, set out to create the ReSet drug in the first place? Did you know it would create New People?”
    “Let’s just say we had hopes,” said Patterson.
    “But Gog and Magog, in their own Beastly way, were quite convinced the New People are going to destroy the world,” said JC. “Tear down human civilisation because they don’t need it. Remake the entire world, and perhaps even reality itself, in their not-at-all-human image. How will your organisation profit from that?”
    “Oh, I don’t think things will get that far,” said Patterson. “There are checks and balances in place . . . things going on behind the scenes, behind the scenery of reality, to ensure nothing too bad happens. Pieces have been moved into place to take advantage of the situation. But I think I’ve said quite enough. You don’t need to know any