Mortal Ghost ‘Just what is that supposed to mean?’ There was a slight tremor in Jesse’s voice when he repeated, ‘It’s no good. Too much is happening. She’s going to get hurt.’ ‘And what about you? You won’t?’ Jesse was quiet for so long that Finn thought he wouldn’t answer. ‘It doesn’t matter about me. I’m used to it.’ ‘Fuck that. You might be willing to give up on yourself, but I’m not.’ Angrily, Finn rose from the table and went to fill the kettle for a second pot of coffee, more to occupy his hands than from a desire for another dose of caffeine. ‘I’m dead tired,’ he said, sitting down again while the kettle boiled. ‘You’re not making it easier for either of us. Now tell me what’s going on.’ Jesse wanted nothing more than to be left alone to sort through his own feelings and impressions, maybe to test himself a little. Red had been strangely quiet in the last few minutes. Was it his imagination after all? He gave it a tentative prod. Back off, I’m busy, came the swift rejoinder. OK. Anyway, what did that prove? ‘Jesse, quit stalling before I lose my temper.’ A surge of irritation flared in Jesse’s gut. The crown of Finn’s head, deeply bronzed, gleamed in the sunlight streaming through the closed window. Jesse glared at him. Leave me alone, he thought, why the fuck don’t you just leave me be, Christ, enough’s ENOUGH. He shoved at Finn—no, at something, at his frustration, his fate maybe—and felt it resist then buckle then give The window exploded outward with an enormous WHOMP of sound: a set of ampedup monster cymbals booming in their eardrums: a blast of highspeed air. The glass fell with a deafening crash to the patio outside. Nubi jumped up, barked, and ran from the room. The cracking and ratcheting of breaking glass seemed to go on for a long time. Finn and Jesse sat frozen in place. ‘Did you do that?’ whispered Finn after his heart finally returned to his chest. Jesse nodded, a bit sheepishly. ‘Shit.’ Finn expelled the word in a hoarse rush, disbelief and something close to admiration in his voice. ‘Look, I’m sorry. I’ll replace it. I really shouldn’t have done that.’ ‘Yes. I mean, no, of course you shouldn’t have, but it’s only glass. Easy enough to repair. But how the hell did you break a window without moving a muscle? And why do I have the feeling that I don’t want to know?’ ‘Ayen’s computer.’ ‘Ayen’s computer?’ Finn asked. ‘What in god’s name are you talking about?’ Jesse decided he had no choice but to give Finn an abridged version of the truth. Very abridged. ‘The prototype seems to have had some lingering effects on me.’ Finn waited for an explanation. It didn’t come. ‘And that’s it? That’s all you’re going to say?’ Jesse shrugged. ‘Lingering effects,’ Finn muttered, glancing towards the window. ‘Talk about understatement.’ He dug at his beard. ‘Are you absolutely sure there are no other new tricks you’re not mentioning? That I need to watch out for?’ Jesse held his tongue. ‘Have you heard from Ayen while I was away?’ Finn finally asked. ‘No.’ Jesse drained his coffee, now cold, and went to have a closer look at the damage. Most of the glass lay in small shards scattered widely across the patio. The garden table where they often ate looked as if it were dusted with a thick sprinkling of coarse sugar. He could even see some glass glinting from the herb bed. The window had shattered with the force of a detonation. Idly he picked at a sharp splinter still lodged in the frame. He winced and sucked his forefinger, which he’d nicked. He stood for a while looking out into the garden, his shoulders slumping. Finally, he took a deep breath and
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