Ghosts exist. The terrifying aspect of the phenomenon, however, is not that they haunt abandoned houses and dark forests and old cathedrals. No. It is nothing as simple as that. It is rather that they haunt the mind. And, unfortunately, it takes far more than a few prayers or a dash of holy water to get rid of them.
I brought up the images of the Robin collectibles. Again, it was the portrait of the starship that drew my attention. The bulky, retro interstellar that had hung on Robin's wall. “Jacob,” I said, “can we connect this vehicle with anything?”
He was briefly silent. Then: “Working.”
I studied the ship. The two odd symbols on the hull.
The ship's designator. But it was a language I'd never seen before. Mute, possibly?
“I have a match, Chase. It's the Sanusar contact. It passed by the station fifty-four years ago. It has never been identified.”
Bingo. And that probably explained why Alex thought he'd seen it before.
“It was visible for several hours.”
“Did they get any radio contact, Jacob?”
“Negative. They tried, but got no answer.”
When I reported what I'd learned to Alex, he let me see he already knew. “And I've a surprise for you,” he said.
“What's that?”
“Let me show you something. Found this last night.”
Suddenly, I was looking at a crowded concourse. Something was going on. Everybody was excited, and people were moving close to where a familiar figure was being interviewed by a virtual journalist.
Chris Robin.
“So,” said the reporter, “what do you make of it, Professor?”
“I'm not sure,” said Robin. “But it's not just a lost ship.”
“It's Sanusar,” I said. In 1380. A half century ago. “And Robin was there-?”
“Why do you say that, Professor? That it's not just a lost ship?”
“Because of the way it left,” he said. “If you look at the record, you'll note it didn't simply move into hyperspace. This was different.”
“You know,” I said, “maybe this is why he got interested in these sightings in the first place. He happened to be present when one of them occurred.”
“Maybe.” Alex looked puzzled. “But I think there's more to it than that.”
“How do you mean?”
“Let me show you the media reports for the second week of the new year, 1387. Jacob?”
The monitor lit up, and I sat down in front of it and scanned the headlines:
M EYER ARRESTED ON CORRUPTION CHARGE SCIENTISTS PREDICT HOT SUMMER FREEDOM PARTY UNDERWRITES S TRIP JOINT SARA GOLD SEPARATES FROM HARRY
POLICE OVERREACTED, SAYS ANGRY MOTHER
And, finally:
ALIEN SPACE VEHICLE AT SKYDECK?
(WWP) An alien ship may have passed through the planetary system last night, the Deep Sky Operations Directorate reported this morning. It appeared without warning at the outer edge of the Rimway launch and recovery area, did not respond to calls from the operations center, and, approximately three hours later, passed out of range of the scanners. It was also sighted by a private yacht, which was able to get pictures of it.
Authorities believe the contact was not a standard Confederate vehicle because of its method of departure, which signified an unknown type of drive unit. The vessel did not appear to be Ashiyyurean.
The intruder never approached close to Rimway. According to authorities, it was at no time considered a threat. And they have stated they do not believe it to have been of alien origin. According to the spokesperson, it is deemed far more likely it was an experimental spacecraft and that its origin will become apparent within a short time. No one, however, could explain why it did not respond to repeated queries.
The private yacht was the Breakwater, owned and operated by Eliot Cermak. It was, unfortunately, unable to overtake the intruder. Pictures taken by Cermak indicate that the unknown ship simply accelerated well beyond the yacht's ability to stay close.
An investigation is under way.
“Cermak?” I said. “The same one who was ferrying Robin around?”
“Yes.”
“Do we know whether Robin was in the Breakwater at the time?”
“No. But I'd bet on it.”
“You don't believe in coincidence?”
“No.”
“But you think he was present for two sightings.”
“I didn't say that was a coincidence.”
“How could he possibly have known in advance?”
“I don't know, Chase. Answer that, and we'll be a step closer to finding out what happened to him.”
Alex made two more public appearances over the next few days, and was interviewed by the Celestial, a magazine that specialized in sensational stories. When I suggested he was playing into his critics, he told me it was product enhancement, and it was an essential part of the business.
It was working. Interest in the Robin artifacts continued to mount. Karen Howard got excited when she saw what was happening, and she called, insisting that we hold the auction while the demand was high.
“We're not ready yet,” Alex told her. “Give it some time.”
“Are you sure, Mr. Benedict?” She did not sound comfortable with the idea.
“Everything's going our way, Karen. Let's just be patient for a bit longer.”
“All right. I'm sure you know what you're doing.” Her tone suggested that was hardly the case. “When do we plan on holding the auction?”
“We're watching the market. I'll let you know when we're ready to go.”
A few minutes later, Shara Michaels called. She blinked on in front of my desk, wearing a blue lab coat. “How's the big sale going?” she asked.
“Which one is that, Shara?”
“Robin.”
“Pretty well. Did you want to put in a bid for something?” Shara, of course, was a physicist.
“To be honest, I'm tempted.”
“Really?” That seemed out of character. There are two kinds of collectors: those who hope to acquire an artifact in order to make a profit down the line, and those who have a sentimental interest in the object. Shara didn't fit readily into either category. “Why's that?”
“I've been watching Alex. On the talk shows-”
“And-?”
“He makes Robin sound much more intriguing than I'd ever thought. I wouldn't mind having something of his around the apartment. To remind me to keep an open mind, maybe.”
“He is pretty good at that. Selling a story, I mean.”
“I guess. Did you know that Robin believed in a second life?”
“A lot of people do.”
“But not many physicists.” She looked at me as if I were a bit slow-witted. “He ran experiments to try to determine whether the mind, the soul, whatever, survived the death of the body. He was morbidly aware of his mortality. Couldn't stand the thought of dying.
“There were other things as well. He thought there had to be highly advanced civilizations scattered around
