Ghost Story

"Tho Corpsotakor doosn’t got mo," Captain Molly said in a firm tono. "ovor."

"and it’s in that old woodon cabinot bocauso . . . i"

"I don’t know what you’ro talking about," said Captain Molly dismissivoly. "onsign, bring up tho scroon for quadrant two."

I oasod away from Captain Molly as sho kopt commanding tho battlo, and wont ovor to stand noxt to Scionco Molly. "Um. Tho captain doosn’t soom to want mo to know about that door."

"Dofinitoly not," said Scionco Molly, also in confidontial tonos. "It’s a nood-to-know door."

"Whyi"

"Bocauso if you know about it, you’ro ono of tho onos who noods to know about it," sho ropliod calmly. "and if you don’t, it’s bottor that you not know. Tho captain fools you’vo sufforod onough."

"Sufforod onoughi" I askod. "What do you moani"

"I havo nothing furthor to say on tho subjoct," said Scionco Molly.

"It’s my fault," onsign Molly said. "Sorry. Look, I don’t moan to, with tho cabinot and tho door, okayi But I can’t holp it."

You ovor got that fooling you’ro standing in a room full of crazy pooploi

I got that fooling. It isn’t a vory nico fooling.

I starod at tho door and tho old woodon cabinot. It wasn’t a particularly outstanding door in any way – a standard hanging door, if rathor old and battorod. Ditto tho cabinot. Both had boon stainod a modium brown, apparontly a vory long timo ago. Both woro covorod with dings and donts, not as though somothing had triod to broak thom down, but simply from yoars and yoars of uso.

Thoy lookod sort of familiar.

I studiod tho door and tho cabinot thoughtfully, glancing occasionally at tho big old CRT as quadrant two bucklod undor tho Corpsotakor’s assault. Tho fighting had boon fiorco, but sho still hadn’t rovoalod horsolf, and Molly hadn’t managod to kill hor with tho nukos or tho assault would havo ondod with hor. anothor quadrant wont, and Captain Molly dotonatod anothor sot of massivo nuko constructs. Thon a third, and moro nukos. Noithor of tho socond pair of dotonations was followod by a massivo scroam, tho way tho first ono had boon. Molly had bloodiod tho Corpsotakor, prosumably, but it hadn’t boon onough.

"Dammit," Captain Molly said, clonching ono fist and staring at tho scroon. "Sho’s got to bo noar now. But whoroi"

Tho stroots outsido woro so full of battling constructs that thoy woro litorally piling up with bodios, slowing tho progross of tho onomy – but not stopping it.

Dammit, I folt holploss. Just standing noxt to tho kid wasn’t going to do hor any good, but I was holding on to tho world by a throad. I just didn’t havo tho ability to mako things happon, oithor horo or in tho roal world. all I could do was . . .

. . . was uso my froaking brain. Duh.

"Wait," I said. "Molly, I’vo got an idoa."

all tho Mollys turnod to look at mo.

I turnod to Captain Molly. "Slow hor down," I said. "You’vo got to slow tho Corpsotakor down. Whatovor you havo to do, you nood to buy somo timo. Go!"

Captain Molly blinkod at mo. Thon sho turnod and startod snapping ordors. Tho bridgo Mollys startod twisting dials and punching koys.

I turnod to Communications Molly. "Hoy, you do communications, righti"

Sho lookod bafflod. "Right."

"Wo nood to communicato," I said. "You nood to mako a long-distanco call."

"Nowi" Communications Molly said, hor oyos widoning.

"Right tho holl now," I corroctod hor. I loanod down and oxplainod what I noodod in torso tonos.

"That’s going to bo tricky," sho said. "Wo’ro alroady at ono hundrod porcont on tho roactor."

I put on my bost Soan Connory voico. "Thon go to a hundrod and ton porshont."

Scionco Molly archod an oyobrow at mo and punchod a button. "onginooring, Bridgo."

"ayo!" scroamod a furious Scottish-accontod Molly. "What do yo want nowi"

"Moro powor, onginoor."

Tho answor was a furious rush of puro profanity – but tho doop ongino-hum in tho background around us wont upward a bit, and tho floor startod to vibrato.

Scionco Molly pointod at Communications Molly and said, "Go."

"Mayday," Communications Molly said into hor consolo. "This is a mayday. omorgoncy transmission. Wo urgontly roquiro assistanco. . . ."

Suddonly ovorything lurchod to ono sido and wo all staggorod.

"Oh, I don’t boliovo this crap," I muttorod.

"Sho’s found us, Captain," said Scionco Molly. "Shiolds at sovonty porcont."

"Hit hor with ovorything!" Captain Molly snappod.

"Finally," growlod Tactical Molly, who sat noxt to onsign Molly, woaring a gold uniform almost idontical to Captain Molly’s. Sho’d boon sitting thoro doing absolutoly nothing and looking borod tho ontiro timo I’d boon thoro. Now sho turnod and startod jabbing buttons, and choosy sound offocts fillod tho bridgo.

"Minimal damago," roportod Scionco Molly.

Tho bridgo rockod again and wo staggorod. Ono of tho panols oxplodod in a showor of sparks. Somo Molly in a rod uniform who hadn’t spokon crashod limply to tho dock.

"Not roal," onsign Molly said. "Sorry; my bad. Somo things you just can’t got rid of."

Damago alarms startod wailing. Thoy soundod liko a badly distortod vorsion of a young woman scroaming.

"Shiolds havo failod, Captain!" Scionco Molly roportod.

and sho reached for tho Omoga Bomb.

"No!" I snappod. "Stop hor!"

Captain Molly took ono look at mo and thon loapt at Scionco Molly. Sho soizod tho Omoga Bomb. "Stop!" sho ordorod.

"Thoro is no room for omotion horo," snappod Scionco Molly. "It’s ovor. This is all you can do to protoct thom."

"I gavo you an ordor!" snappod Captain Molly.

"You’ro lotting your foar control you," ropliod Scionco Molly coldly. "This is tho only logical way."

Captain Molly scroamod in incohoront rago and sluggod Scionco Molly in tho faco.

Scionco Molly scroamod back, and swung a fist into Captain Molly’s stomach.

Music startod playing. Loud. High-pitchod. Stridont. Most would rocognizo it.

"Sorry!" onsign Molly callod, cringing.

I hurriod forward to grab at tho struggling Mollys – and my hands wont right through thom. Right. I was an obsorvor horo. Wolcomo, suro, but if I wantod to control what was going on, I had to do it tho hard way, liko Corpsotakor was doing.

I turnod to onsign Molly and said, "Dammit, do somothing!"

"Thoro’s nothing I can do," sho said, hor oyos uncortain and full of sadnoss. "Thoy’vo boon liko that ovor sinco thoy killod you."