Simon Green - Spirits from Beyond

“It changes,” said Happy. “According to my mood, my need, and the circumstances. It’s not easy being a drug fiend. What matters is that I know what I need to be able to function.”

“How long have you been taking this stuff?” said Melody.

Happy smiled, briefly. “Too long.”

“Doesn’t your body chemistry. . adapt to all the changes you keep making in it?”

“Of course,” said Happy. “I need larger and larger doses all the time to achieve the same effects.”

“But isn’t that dangerous?”

“Yes.”

“Then. . what happens when even the largest doses can’t help you any more?”

“Then I’m screwed,” said Happy. “Hopefully by then, you’ll have come up with some kind of tech to help me. Something to shut me down. Close my eyes and ears to the hidden world. So I can walk along in blinkered ignorance, like everyone else.”

“I’ve already explained the dangers involved in that,” said Melody.

“They’re not dangers,” said Happy. “They’re comforts.”

“I could burn your brain out!”

“You see?” Happy said gently. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. For me, it’s something to look forward to. An end to suffering.”

Melody started to reach out to him, but Happy sat back in his chair and stretched slowly.

“I’m tired, Mel. Can’t we finish this tomorrow? I want to go to bed and get some sleep.”

“I need to get the basics down now,” said Melody. “I need to know what I’m doing, if I’m going to be able to help you. I have to be methodical; it’s how I do things.”

“I’m so tired,” said Happy. His eyes were closed.

“I could make you something to eat,” said Melody.

“I’m too tired to eat.”

Melody sniffed. “You’ve never liked my cooking.”

Happy opened his eyes and smiled at her. “Cooking is an art. And you have always been all about the science.”

Melody closed her note-book, and sat back in her chair. “All right. That’s enough for now. You’re going to have to take me down to the Institute and introduce me to these clever chemical friends of yours. See if we can put at least some of this on a firm scientific footing.”

She looked at Happy and saw that he was no longer listening. He’d nodded off in his chair, his chin resting on his chest. Melody’s heart went out to him. Because she knew that for all her promised support, and all her great intentions, there really wasn’t much she could do for him. The only things that made life bearable for him were the same things that were killing him by inches. And both of them knew it. All she could do was keep him company.

And hold him while he lay dying.

* * *

Catherine Latimer, great high Boss of the ancient and eminent Carnacki Institute, sat alone in her office at the end of the day. She’d sent everyone else home. She sat in her chair, behind her desk, thinking. She should have gone home long ago, except. . it wasn’t as if there was anyone there, to go home to. There had been loves and lovers, down the years; but either she or the job had always driven them away.

Is this what my life has come to? she thought. After everything I’ve done and fought for? To sit alone in an empty room?

Her head jerked up suddenly, as she pulled herself back from the edge of sleep through an effort of will. How long had she been sitting there, thinking? About all the people and Things that threatened not only the Institute but the whole world? The burden is always so much harder when there’s no-one else you can trust, to bear it with you. She smiled briefly. Well, except for the odd person, here and there. She became aware there was indeed another person in the room with her, standing patiently on the other side of the desk, waiting to be noticed. Catherine looked up and smiled.

“Hello, Kim.”