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The Space between Atoms 6

Fear notwithstanding, Terah crept close to the fire.  Pulled off his gloves to hold out his hands.  He looked at Mich in the dim light.  Young guy, not yet shaving.  At least it didn’t show.  What was his story?  “What do you do for food?” he asked.
“Well, I’m stocked up at the moment, but I go out at night when I need supplies.  Found a few places with locks that accept MasterCard.  Only take a little from each, though.  Nobody ever misses it, I’m sure.  I try to avoid fresh snow, though.”  He gave Terah a small scowl.
“I didn’t mean to bust in on you, man.  I’m just heading west.”
“West to California?  Long way from here.  Most guys head south.”
“I’ve got family west of here.”
“Just passin’ through, then?”
“Yup.”
“Well, do me a favor and wait til the snow melts.  I can’t have your big feet givin’ me away.”
They sat in silence for a while, watching the small fire.
“You could probably do with a bite,” Mich said at last.  “I don’t much like givin’ stuff away, but I can’t have ya collapsin’ on me.”  He scrambled to his feet and disappeared into the darkness.  He had a couple of granola bars and an Evian when he reappeared.  “We’ll need to get your shit outa the main chamber before some thrill seeker finds it,” he announced.
“You trust me down here?”
“I read people pretty good.  Besides, you’d starve to death before you’d find my stash.”
“About those other people I saw…”
“Look, man, guys your age are always judgin’ my generation.  I won’t have it.  My house, my rules.”
“I’m not judging anyone.  I just need to know—how many other people live here?”
“None.”
“Then the couple I saw…”
“Aren’t exactly alive.”
Terah’s jaw stopped mid-chew.
“No judgin’.”
He swallowed.  “Not judging, but do you mean to say they’re ghosts?”
“Near as I can figure.  Probably got you all horny, but don’t be expectin’ me to do anythin’ about it.”
Terah looked down, guiltily.  “It’s just I never figured ghosts would be doing that sort of thing.”
“Fuckin’, you mean?  Why not?”
“Well, ghosts always wear clothes.”
“You may be the professor, but you haven’t thought this through.  Science tells us there’s no such thing as ghosts.  Can’t get ‘em to show up in a lab.  Can’t test ‘em because there’s nothin’ physical to test.  How do we know they always wear clothes?”
“It’s just that people say…”
“Some people say.  Read enough about it and you’ll see plenty a naked ghosts show up.”
“Really?  I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“Have ya ever researched it?  I dint think so.  That’s the problem with professors.  Tunnel vision.”
“So you’ve seen them, having sex?”
“That’s all they seem to wanna do.  Can’t say I blame ‘em.  They’re not the only ones, though.”
“You mean there are other ghosts?”
“Not all of ‘em are friendly.”
Perhaps it was the lack of sleep, or the fraying of reality that accompanies unemployment, but Terah experienced the discussion as somewhat normal.  His academic skepticism, as always, taught him to doubt what his eyes had seen.  “You’ve had hostile encounters?”
“Let’s just say ghosts may not be what ya think they are.”
“The spirits of the dead?”
“What’s a spirit?  Huh?  Scientists say we’re meat machines.  They also tell us time’s a kind of illusion, works both directions.  If I was dead and sentient, do ya think I’d be doin’ what I always did, or maybe I’d be confused?  Or maybe I’d be tryin’ to send a message to anyone who might be lookin’.  Maybe they’re not spirits of the dead at all.  How would we know?”
“You’ve thought a lot about this.”
“When you live with spirits you kinda have to.”
“So what about these hostile encounters?”  Suddenly the boiler room felt even more threatening than its industrial timbre suggested.  Large machines of unyielding metal, machines designed to carry scalding water throughout a building filled with the insane.  Nobody made such places pleasing to visit.  The architects and engineers knew that the groundskeeper class was a crude bunch, not caring for niceties.  Behemoths of naked metal, functional but not aesthetic, were indicated for such grottos as this.  The administrators with their suits and ties, sitting in their warm and well-lit offices, didn’t have to see this.  Didn’t have to think about the gritty and practical engines beneath them that made their comfortable lives possible.  Now, sitting in such a space, illuminated by a sheltered fire, Terah suppressed a shiver.  Were there really spirits here?
Mich stared into the modest flames.  He was a handsome young man, Terah noticed.  He had to have a backstory, because society usually favors the good looking.  Why had he decided to live here?  Perhaps there was a secret in Mich’s past too.  Nobody was ever what they seemed.
“We gotta get your shit outa the foyer,” he said, standing up.  “Ready to head back into the dark?”
Terah stood, groaning as he did so.  “You’ve got a flashlight.”
“Necessary tool of the trade.  You’d be surprised how not having one can put you in danger.”
“Making your own light has been a liability in the places I’ve stayed,” Terah said, offhandedly.
“Around here, the light struggles.  Thank God for LEDs.”
Terah followed Mich to the right, reversing each turn so they would come once again to the concrete stairs.  Taking pity on his older companion, he took the steps slowly.  Back in the corridor he snapped off the light.  Gray day glow had misted in with its own gloom.  Mich stood completely still, like a cat, listening.  He stood for a long while.  “You can’t always tell,” he said sotto voce, “when someone comes in.  If you’re in the headquarters,” he pointed down, “sound doesn’t always travel the way you think it will.”  His steps were remarkable supple and silent.  He glanced down the corridor, navigated to the front door, saw the board still in place.  Then he let himself speak a little louder.
“We’re still alone.  Not that I was expectin’ company.  Get your shit gathered up.  Can’t have any evidence of recent occupancy.”  The colorless light filtering in looked cold.  Terah tried to fold his blanket as quietly as possible.  He hefted his pack and nodded to Mich.
“You lead the way this time,” he said, handing Terah the light.  “Can’t have you gettin’ lost and attractin’ attention.”  
Navigating around the central pyramid was surprisingly disorienting.  If you didn’t pay attention you could end up confused.  The red splotch was easy to miss.  That was the point.  With prompts from Mich, Terah finally found his way to the head of the stairs down.  Just as he was about to take his first step, they heard the distinct crash of the board falling from the front door.


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