Ghostfinders 03 -Ghost of a Dream

the Waiting Room door,” said Laurie.
    They all turned, and looked. The door was standing all the way open. Happy swore softly.
    “Okay; I know I shut that one a moment ago. Doesn’t necessarily mean anything, though. Could be the door isn’t hung right, or the floor’s off at an angle…”
    “No,” said Laurie. “That’s not it.”
    JC strode unhurriedly over to the Waiting Room door, studied it for a moment, and produced a small wooden wedge from an inside pocket. He forced it into place under the bottom of the door, stepped back to look over his work, then went to the open main door and did the same thing with a second wooden wedge. He smiled cheerfully across at the others.
    “That should hold it,” he said. “The simple answers are always the best.”
    “Might work,” said Laurie. “Might not. The Trust volunteers tried that as well, at first. Because it was small things, to begin with. Small, disturbing things. But if itwere as easy as that to deal with, we wouldn’t have needed you…There. See?”
    They all looked around sharply, as the single naked light bulb overhead began to go out, the harsh electric light dimming, bit by bit, as though it had to come from further and further away. The light went out of the room, and the shadows pressed forward. The bulb went out, then the only light in the long room was the late-evening light, spilling through the new glass windows and the wedged-open door.
    “You can replace the bulb, if you like,” said Laurie. “It won’t make any difference. It’ll keep going out. Any bulb, in any room, anywhere in the station…My son Howard helped install the new lights, and the new wiring; nothing wrong with any of it. It seems that there’s something here that doesn’t like the light.”
    Melody snorted loudly, hit some switches on her display, and half a dozen small floods kicked in, blazing light from her instrument stand. Not enough to fill the whole room but more than enough to force the shadows back where they belonged. Melody smiled triumphantly at Laurie, then, one by one, the floodlights began to fade out, too. Melody swore harshly, her fingers stabbing at the keyboards set out before her, bringing all the power in her generator to bear. The floods stopped fading, but they didn’t regain their former brilliance, either. Melody’s eyes darted back and forth before she finally nodded, reluctantly.
    “Nothing on the sensors, nothing on the scanners—short- or long-range. All of my tech is specially protected from Outside influence; but something’s got tothem. I’ve never had my lights go out on me. It shouldn’t have happened.”
    “Will the lights stay on?” said Happy.
    “They will if they know what’s good for them,” said Melody.
    “What readings are you getting?” said JC. “Anything useful, or even interesting?”
    “I’m getting electromagnetic fluctuations, other-dimensional energy spikes, and really strange barometric pressures,” said Melody, her eyes darting from one monitor screen to another.
    “If you don’t know, say so,” said Happy.
    Melody stuck out her tongue at him. “The readings are clear. However, I don’t know enough about local conditions to make sense of them. Yet.”
    Laurie managed another of his small smiles, for JC. “Been together long, have they, those two?”
    “You can tell?” said JC.
    “Oh aye,” said Laurie. “I was married, once. But I got over it.” He looked about him. “Your machines are impressive, but you’ll do better with candles. The Trust laid a stock in—over there.”
    He nodded to a small cupboard, set to one side. JC moved across, opened it, and brought out a dozen large candles, each in its own separate holder. JC set them about the room at regular intervals, lighting them one at a time with his Zippo. He didn’t smoke any more, but he liked to have something in his life he could depend on. He came back to join the others, looked about him, and nodded, pleased at the gentle, golden warmth the candlelight added to the room. Soft as butter, golden as buttercups.
    “Keep an eye on the candles,” said Laurie. “They have a tendency to go out. When it’s most inconvenient.”
    And then he broke off and looked hard at JC. Around the edges of JC’s heavy, dark sunglasses, a bright light was shining, sharp and distinct.
    “Dear God, man,” said Laurie. “What happened to your eyes?”
    “Laser surgery,” said JC. “I’m suing. Don’t worry about