Ghost of a Smile (30 page)

Latimer swayed on her feet as the mental images came to an end. Happy put out a hand to steady her, then snatched it back as she shot him a hard look. She shuddered once, then stood up straight, immediately back in control again. The others looked at her carefully to see what she made of what they'd all Seen in the dead man's head. There was something new in the world, and it was not good.

“I suppose the first question,” JC said finally, “has to be—did it fall, or was it pushed? Was it some kind of accident, or did Something Else push that thing through the door, against its will?”

“No, that can wait,” Happy said immediately. “What matters is, something really quite appalling has entered our world from the Outer Reaches, and we have no idea what it is, or what it can do. It's trapped here . . . and you all felt the same things I did. It's awful and it's vast and it's powerful, and it wants to go home. Back to where it came from, where it did awful things and loved it. This thing is what's been working behind the scenes of our reality all this time, weakening the walls of the world, so it can break out of it. It sees this world, our reality, as a prison! It doesn't care if it destroys this whole world and everything that lives on it, as long as it gets to go home again!”

“Stop hyperventilating,” Melody said coldly. “You know what that does to your sinuses. JC's got a point. Even if we could open the door to send it back, would what lives there take it back? Would they fight to keep it out?”

“We're getting ahead of ourselves,” said Latimer. “We have to identify this Entity first, then decide what to do about it. There are options . . .”

“Really?” said Happy. “I would love to know what the options are for dealing with a Power and Domination from the Outer Reaches!”

“Am I going to have to get you a brown paper bag to breathe into?” said Melody.

“We've dealt with such threats before,” Latimer said firmly. “We identify it, contain it, then either destroy it or send it somewhere else. The Carnacki Institute has a long history of knowing what to do with Abhuman Monstrosities. Did any of you pick up a name from that memory, or a description . . .”

“I got something,” Happy said reluctantly. “But you're really not going to like it.”

“There's been precious little about this day I've enjoyed,” said Latimer. “What have you got?”

“Might be a name, or a description,” said Happy. “Or maybe even a warning . . . The Flesh Undying.”

There was a long pause as they all thought about that, none of them happily. Latimer shook her head slowly.

“Doesn't ring any bells. I'll have to do some research. Did any of you get a sense of time? How long ago did this incursion into our space happen?”

“Hard to say,” said JC. “I got the sense we were looking at an historical record, of something that happened years ago. How long have there been stories about something untoward going on behind the scenes? Of people working to destroy the walls of the world?”

“Decades,” Happy said immediately, taking an entirely inappropriate pleasure in presenting the bad news. “I've been saying all along, there are all kinds of stories, of varying reliability. I believe them all, of course, on general principles, but that's just me . . . We have to ask—how long has this thing had to build an army of followers, or fellow travellers, the dupes and the possessed? If they could get their hooks into someone like Patterson, the public face of the Institute . . . How long has he been secretly working against us? How many others like him are there? How deep has the infiltration of the Institute gone?”

“Okay, you're scaring me now,” said Melody.

“Welcome to my world,” said Happy. “Cold and spooky, isn't it?”

“As always, you think too small,” said Latimer. She wasn't even looking at Happy, her gaze far away. “The question is how many of the secret organisations of this world might The Flesh Undying have infiltrated? Not only the Institute, but the Crowley Project, the London Knights, perhaps even the Droods . . . We've always suspected their power source originated in another dimension . . . If that's the case, how do we warn people? Should we warn anyone and perhaps give away how much we know?”

“The rider was human,” said JC. “Or at least, was human once. He said we'd know his name . . . But he could have been saying that to mess with our heads.”

“He called me by my first name,” said Latimer. “Not many have ever done that . . . And there was something about the way he said it . . .”

“I was right!” said Happy triumphantly. “All along, I was right! You all said I was paranoid, well you didn't say it, but I knew you were thinking it, when I told you Something was going on behind the scenes, but you didn't believe me! You said I'd been working too hard, reading too many forbidden texts, taking too many of my little chemical helpers, but I was right all along! Forces from Outside are working to destroy the world, using traitors inside our organisations! Ow!”

“It was either a slap round the head, or a major tranquiliser,” said Melody. “And you'd probably have enjoyed the latter.”

“Quite right,” said JC. “You are enjoying this entirely too much, Happy. And anyway, it's only one Force from Outside. Like the Boss said, the Carnacki Institute has a very successful history in dealing with such things.”

“Victors write the histories,” Happy said darkly, rubbing at the back of his head. “And they tend to leave out all the times when it all went horribly wrong.”

“If you don't knock off the X-Files shit right now, I foresee a whole bunch of slaps in your immediate future,” said Melody.

“Sorry,” said Happy. “I'm not used to being right.”

“But . . . why would anyone, any human being, ally themselves with such a thing?” said JC. “Why aid something that wants to destroy the whole world?”

“Don't be naive,” said Latimer. “Why do Satanists sign away their souls when they must know that Hell is real? For power, or money, or to be major players in the game. And most of them probably don't know the whole story anyway. They could be lied to, manipulated, even possessed. Some people will always go where the power is, planning to jump off at exactly the right moment and avoid paying the bill when it comes due. Fools. We need to know a lot more about The Flesh Undying.”

“We don't even know what it is!” said Melody. “What we Saw could have been a vision, or an interpretation, of what actually happened! We couldn't even look at the thing directly!”

“Could be one of the Great Beasts,” said JC. “Or one of the Abominations from the Outer Rings . . . We need to consult the Institute Libraries, Boss, and not only the official ones. We need to see everything.”

“Ooh!” said Happy, brightening suddenly. “I've always wanted access to the Secret Libraries!”

“I'll think about it,” said Latimer. “Letting you run loose in those stacks would probably be more dangerous than anything The Flesh Undying would come up with.”

“I resent that,” said Happy.

“I notice you're not denying it,” said JC.

“All right!” said Latimer, “Very much against my better judgement, I will authorise you to enter the Secret Files. But no-one is to know what you're looking for. Anything you sign out will be under my name, which should keep anyone else from looking at it, and I will expect to see full reports from each of you on whatever you discover.” She looked at all three of them in turn, and her eyes were very cold. “I'm trusting you in this because I have no choice. You are not the team, or even the individual agents, I would have chosen for a matter as important as this, but . . . it's clear I don't know my own people as well as I thought I did. You're all new to the Institute, and to field work, so hopefully that means you haven't been got at yet. You did good work against Fenris Tenebrae. I haven't forgotten. I do wish you had more experience. Then I wouldn't feel quite so guilty about kicking you in the deep end to play with the sharks.”

“We may not have the experience,” said JC. “But we're sneaky.”

“Oh we are,” said Happy. “Really. You have no idea.”

“Right,” said Melody, smiling in a really quite unpleasant way.

But Latimer was looking at JC thoughtfully. “Why didn't you check in with the Institute before you started this case? You know that's official procedure.”

“Because of Patterson,” said JC. “We all knew him, trusted him. Never liked the man, but we were all aware of his long service. And he was one of yours. We were used to hearing your words, from his lips. Never occurred to any of us that he might be speaking off his own bat.”

“Yes,” said Latimer. “He always was one of my favourites.”

“He called you ‘Grandmother,'” Happy pointed out.

“You should still have followed the official protocols,” said Latimer, ignoring Happy.

“It was an emergency,” said JC. “Not the first time we've been dropped into a case without a proper briefing, because there wasn't the time.”

“I'm going to have to lay down some new guidelines,” said Latimer. “Backed up by heavy fines, demotions, and the threat of actual physical violence. It's the only way to get anything done.”

“I have to ask,” said JC. “Don't we have compacts, agreements, with . . . well, other Forces and Powers? Other organisations? People, and others, who operate in the same field as us, that we could turn to for help and support in an extreme situation like this?”

“We can't talk to anyone about this!” Latimer said immediately. “If any of them were to discover that the Institute has become . . . compromised, they'd stop cooperating with us, stop sharing the kind of information we need to be able to do our job. And since we can't know how deep or how far this infiltration has spread . . . we can't risk sharing what we know with the wrong people. I won't even be able to report all of what's happened here at the next Summit Meeting.”

“Hold everything!” said JC. “The next Summit Meeting? This is the first I've heard about any Summit Meeting! Who, exactly, does the Carnacki Institute hold Summits with?”

“Yeah!” said Happy, annoyed at JC for getting in first.

“We hold a Summit twice every year, in neutral territory,” Latimer said calmly. “And you didn't know because you didn't need to know. The Institute meets with representatives from the Crowley Project and certain others. We've been holding these very cautious arm's-length little get-togethers for many years. Because for all their bad intentions and very real threats to the world, the Project still needs a world to live on. Which means that sometimes we find ourselves on the same side, opposed to some Force or Entity that wants to destroy the world. Something too big for either of us to combat on our own. As you found out, when you teamed up with those two Project agents down in the Underground.

“A lot of groups and organisations, and certain vested interests, send delegates to the Summit Meetings. The Droods, the London Knights, the Regent of Shadows. Hadleigh Oblivion turned up one year, not long after he was made Detective Inspectre. Shadows Fall usually sends Old Father Time, but once we got Bruin Bear and the Sea Goat. We had to lock up all the silver cutlery. And the expensive wines. And send out for more food for the buffet. Damn, that Goat can put away pizza.” She stopped, to smile a surprisingly gentle smile. “Bruin Bear, on the other hand, was a real sweetie. I always loved his books, when I was a child.”

“Doesn't everyone?” said JC. “I'm still not happy with these meetings being kept secret. What purpose do they serve?”

“Keep your enemies close and your friends closer,” said Latimer. “Because you always know where you are with your enemies . . . but your friends and allies can always surprise you.”

“So what do you talk about?” said Happy, actually bobbing up and down on the spot in excitement at discovering something even he hadn't suspected.