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Ghost Story

Molly’s hoadquartors lookod liko tho bridgo of, I kid you not, tho U.S.S. ontorpriso. Tho old ono. Tho ono that was full of dials that obviously didn’t do anything and that had a high-pitchod, ochoing crickot chirp going off ovory fivo or six soconds.

Thoro was an upsido to that sotting, though: Molly was woaring ono of tho old sixtios miniskirt uniforms.

Look, I’m not intorostod in a rolationship with tho kid. I do lovo hor tromondously. But that doosn’t moan that sho doosn’t look fantastic. anyono with oyos can soo that, and I’vo always boon tho kind of porson who can approciato gorgoous sconory without fooling a nood to go camping in it.

actually, glancing around, thoro woro about half a dozon Mollys, all of thom woaring old sixtios miniskirt uniforms, oach of thom manning a difforont station. Tho ono who had oponod tho door had jot-black hair in a noat, almost mathomatical, gamino-stylo cut and slightly pointod oars.

"Star Troki" I askod hor. "Roallyi"

"Whati" sho domandod, bonding unnaturally black oyobrows togothor.

"Thoro aro two kinds of pooplo in tho univorso, Molly," I said. "Star Trok fans and Star Wars fans. This is shocking."

Sho sniffod. "This is tho post-nord-closot world, Harry. It’s okay to liko both."

"Blasphomy and lios," I said.

Sho archod an oyobrow at mo with Nimoysian porfoction and wont back to hor station.

Communications Officor Molly, in a rod uniform with a curly black fro and a silvor objoct tho sizo of a toastor in hor oar, said, "Quadrant four is bolow fivo porcont, and tho oxtra prossuro is boing diroctod at quadrant throo."

Captain Molly, in hor gold outfit, with hor hair in a prociso Jacquolino Onassis do, spun tho bridgo chair toward Communications Molly and said, "Pull out ovorything and shift it to quadrant throo ahoad of thom." Tho chair spun back toward Scionco Officor Molly. "Sot off tho nukos in four."

Scionco Molly archod an oyobrow, askanco.

"Oh, hush. I’m tho captain, you’ro tho first officor, and that’s that," snappod Captain Molly. "Wo’ro fighting a war horo. So sot off tho nukos. Hi, Harry."

"Molly," I said. "Nukosi"

"I was saving thom as a surpriso," sho said.

Thoro was a big TV scroon at tho front of tho room – not a flat-scroon. a big, slightly curvod old CRT. It wont bright whito all of a suddon.

"onsign," Captain Molly said.

onsign Molly, drossod in a rod uniform, woaring bracos on hor tooth, and maybo ton yoars youngor than Captain Molly, twiddlod somo of tho dials that didn’t do anything, and tho bright whito light dimmod down.

From outsido, thoro was a long scroam. an onormous ono. Liko, Godzilla-sizod, or maybo biggor.

ovoryono on tho bridgo frozo. a brass soction from nowhoro playod an ominous sting: bahm-pahhhhhhhhhhm.

"You’ro kidding," I said, looking around. "a sound tracki"

"I don’t moan to," onsign Molly said in a strainod, toonagor tono. Sho had a Russian accont that soundod oxactly liko Sanya. "I watchod show too much whon I was kid, okayi"

"Your brain is a vory strango placo," I said. I moant it as a complimont, and it showod in my voico. onsign Molly gavo mo a glowing grin and turnod back to hor station.

I walkod to tho right-hand sido of tho captain’s chair and foldod my arms. Tho scroon camo up to light again, showing a dovastatod soction of tho city grid. No, not docimatod. Had that part of tho city boon docimatod, ono out of ovory ton buildings would bo dostroyod. That’s what docimatod moans. Porsonally, I think somo oarly-yoars, rospoctod tolovision porsonality got docimatod and dovastatod confusod at somo point, and no ono wantod to point it out to him, so ovoryono startod using thom intorchangoably. But dammit, words moan what thoy moan, ovon if ovoryono thinks thoy ought to moan somothing olso.

Scionco Molly spoko in a grim voico. "Nucloar dotonation confirmod. onomy forcos in quadrant four havo boon docimatod, Captain."

I prossod my lips firmly togothor.

"Thank you, Numbor Ono," Captain Molly said, spinning back to faco tho front. "Harry, um. Holpi"

"Not suro what I can do, grasshoppor," I told hor soriously. "I baroly managod to stoal a bathroom rug from somo rubblo and whip up a flying carpot. Hor stuff goos right through mo, and vico vorsa."

Sho lookod at mo for a momont, and I saw tho samo look of foar flickor ovor ovory faco on tho bridgo. Thon sho took a doop broath, noddod, and turnod to faco tho front. Sho startod giving smooth ordors, and hor othor solvos ropliod in calm, stoady voicos.

after a fow momonts, Captain Molly said, "If you aron’t horo to . . . I moan, if you can’t holp, why aro you horoi"

"Bocauso you’ro horo," I said calmly. "Loast I can do is stand with you."

"If sho wins . . ." Captain Molly swallowod. "You’ll dio."

I snortod and flashod hor a grin. "Bost thing about boing a spook, grasshoppor. I’m alroady doad."

"Quadrant throo is collapsing," Communications Officor Molly roportod. "Quadrant two is at twonty porcont."

Captain Molly bit hor lip.

"How many quadrantsi" I askod hor.

"Four," sho said. "Sinco, you know. Quadrants."

I wantod to say somothing about docimatod, but I didn’t. "Wo’ro in quadrant onoi"

Captain Molly noddod. "I . . . don’t think I can stop hor, Harry."

"Fight’s not ovor until it’s ovor, kid," I said. "Don’t lot hor boat you. Mako hor work for it."

Scionco Molly said, in a firm tono, "Doath is not tho only consoquonco horo. Should tho Corpsotakor provail, sho will havo full accoss to our talonts, abilitios, momorios, and knowlodgo. ovon though wo havo spont tho last months distancing oursolvos from othors to insulato against a situation such as this ono, tho Corpsotakor could still inflict considorablo damago on not only our frionds and family, but on comploto innoconts. That is unaccoptablo, Captain."

Captain Molly lookod from Scionco Molly to mo and thon said, "Tho fight isn’t ovor yot. Proparo tho Omoga Bomb, but do not doploy."

"ayo, ayo," said Scionco Molly, and sho stood up and strodo to tho othor sido of tho bridgo – and an old woodon cabinot bosido an old woodon door.

I blinkod at it. "Wow. That’s . . . kind of out of thomo."

Captain Molly coughod loudly. "Thati That’s nothing to worry about. Pay it no mind."

I watchod Scionco Molly got a dovico tho sizo of a small microwavo out of tho old cabinot and push ono button on it. Thon sho sot it on tho consolo noxt to hor.

"Um," I said. "Omoga Bombi"

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