"Release my friends first." I say.
"In time my friend. For we are friends now are we not? First I want some proof that you are indeed an ally of the United States of America."
"Proof?" I ask.
"Yes, nothing too much. As I said, we have heard about you. You slaughtered thousands of government employees, at least three powerful revenants and scores of ghosts. You didn't do it alone."
"I was paid to do a job. Nothing more." I say.
"Friendships are based on trust. Trust must be earned. I want you to earn my trust. You haven't even told me your name."
"You may call me Mr. Archer." I say
"Well Mr. Archer, a first step in earning my trust would be to give me the names and location of your Society clients." Tyrone says.
I am hit with another beam of light and fall on my back in agony.
Lightening fast, Tyrone C. Sellers turns and fires a concealed knife into the throat of Friar Durant. Durant drops the beam weapon.
"Friar Durant, your usefulness to the American people has come to an end. You may die now." Tyrone says.
Durant had already complied with the request.
"The names Mr, Archer. I am already late for my flight back to D.C." Tyrone says.
I make a dash for the friar's weapon. Tyrone Sellers pulls a pistol as soon as I move and shoots me in the back. Again I go down in an agonizing heap.
"Mr. Archer. Please don't disappoint me. I believe you to be a man of reason. The American government will reward you in ways you could never dream of as a mercenary. Give me one name and you and I will be on a Presidential jet to the White House within the hour." he says.
"You have to understand. He is very powerful. He could extinguish my essence in a second. If I tell you his name. He will find out and I will have a short time remaining in this place."
"Tell me!!" Tyrone says.
"His name is Joe. He is not a ghost. He is not a revenant. He is a demon from the 9th circle of hell. I...I have broken my oath with him. His wail...has the power to kill mortals. One glance from him will kill a man. Bullets won't harm him. Only a full holy ceremony given by an ordained friar has any effect on him." I say.
"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" A long wail bellows from deep within the pit near the American flag.
Screams echo from the town and dozen of machine guns fire a steady stream in the direction of the pit.
Tyrone motions the mob, "Stop! It's a trick!"
Somehow a fire has broken out in one of the store fronts. Two men are dead, victims of friendly fire.
I concentrate for a moment and burn out the street lights and then sink into the ground. More random machine gun fire breaks out. When I arrive at the pit I snatch the ghost trap but when I reach out Tyrone shoots me again with his pistol. I fall into the pit, the ghost trap following my lead. I gain my composure just before meeting the bottom of the pit and catch the ghost trap preventing any damage to it. Joe and Life are at the bottom of the pit waiting.
"Deadly wail dude? That was your plan?" Asks Joe.
"My plan was to kill them all and escape with their technology and the ghost trap." I say.
"What stopped you?" Joe asks.
"Fat friar with anger management issues" I say.
"We can discuss this later. Let's get as far away from this place as possible." Life says.
"Okay, I suggest we tread a little earth rather than risk going back up to the surface." I say.
We all go incorporeal. I phase the ghost trap so it too become incorporeal. We make haste to safer territory.
A short while later we surface in an old coal mine shaft. The only light is emitting from the ghost trap.
"Nice trick. How did you make that thing phase out without Society technology?" Joe asks.
"I don't know, I just thought about it and it happened." I say.
We stand around looking at the ghost trap and it's pulsing swamp fire glow.
"Joe can you make it open?" Life asks.
"Well of course I can make it open. I am an expert in Society technology. But this is going to take some delicate manipulation and timing on my part. I suggest the both of you take a seat and watch a master at work."
Life looks at me in amazement.
"...and I had been thinking that you had the biggest ego in the room."
"I do. My head is so full of egos I am nos...sorry bad bit of Latin declension humor."
"I don't get your humor sometimes. Stop being such a nerd."
"Shhhhhhhhhhhhh! I can't work under these conditions!!" Joe says.
"You can't do it can you?" Life asks.
"I could if you would show some patience."
Like a vaudeville magician, Joe performs prestidigitation as if he is conjuring the devil himself.
I stifle a laugh. An intense glow bursts forth from the device. Coal dust billows up from the ground of the mine shaft. The device stops glowing and Dawn, Sunny and an unknown man have joined us.
We hug Dawn and Sunny quickly and then ask in unison, "Who are you?"
The figure points at himself as if unsure who we are talking to. He has a long ponytail, blue jeans and is sporting an old rock concert T-shirt with War Pigs written in big green letters. Sunny lies down next to him.
"He's Mr. Tommy." Dawn says. The man smiles infectiously and taps Dawn on the head.
"My name is T. Paine. Some call me Terrible Pain, some call me T.P. as if they wish they could wipe their butts with me and then dispose of me in just such a manner. I prefer Tom, unless talking to little girls like this adorable child." he says.
"No!" I say.
"He can't be." Joe says.
"I am" Tom says.
"You can't be the Thomas Paine who wrote Common Sense. You'd be almost 300 years old." I say.
"In the flesh...so to speak...and Please call me Tom. Thomas is so old-fashion."
"You are as solid as those townspeople back there." I say.
"I have had well over 200 years to perfect my craft. Observe." He says. Tom picks up a chunk of coal. "What am I holding?" he asks.
"Other than a lump of coal?" Life asks.
"Give that charming lady a prize! Place your hands near the coal. What do you feel?"
"Power...energy!" says Dawn.
"So smart! Future scientist for certain." says Tom.
"What's the point?" Life asks.
"If mankind were to look at this without reason, he would see a worthless rock...not even worthy of being a good projectile. Give mankind a century or two and this rock becomes a source of fuel for heating the house. Give him another century and it can be used to make electricity. Given time he may learn how to alter it's anatomy until it can be used to power a star ship. Now, take that same piece of coal and give it to a ghost. That ghost has three hundred years to use his reasoning faculties, without need for sleep, without earthly distractions to learn how his own anatomy is made up of unseen energy just like the coal. He reasons and tests his own theories on how matter and energy correlate, using his own powers as the test subject..."
He looks over at Life who is inspecting the mine shaft.
"...Please don't fall asleep dear lady, I am getting to the important part..."
"No, go ahead...I am listening." She says.
I can look, feel and breath just like a living being if I want to...or I can be as incorporeal as any first year cycling ghost. What's more, I can do it expending only a fraction of a percentage point of the energy I needed to do it 300 years ago."
The coal passes through his hand, only to be caught by the other. Then it passes partially through his hand and sticks, half way between the top of his hand and the palm.
"Ouch, that hurts....not really." The coal falls to the ground.
"What is more important is I can teach all of you what I know."
Tom smiles a toothy grin.
"I am begging to suspect you did not get caught by accident." Life says.
"Certainly not! Those fools couldn't catch cold without an injection."
Tom focuses his attention on me.
"You sir are famous, or should I say infamous. What you did in Lansing has caused quite a panic throughout Federal and State governments. The President has put you in his secret top 20 most wanted list. They are sending government agents, paranormal assassins, even rogue Society mercenaries. I haven't had this much fun since the Arab Spring!!!"
"Fun? Governments are in chaos, mankind is in danger of disappearing and the planet is falling apart...how is that fun?" Life asks.
"Pardon, my poor manners, fair lady, sometimes my sense of humor has gotten a bit idiosyncratic from spending too much time around bookish snobs. I get far too excited when I see an opportunity for progress. We have it in our power to begin the world over again."
"Okay, I just heard crazy talking. Sometimes crazy and I have been too intimate of late so I am aware of the danger signs." I say.
"What? Because I dare believe optimistically that humanity's best days can still be in the future?" Tom asks.
"No because you started talking about power to change the world." I say
"Oh but we do. You do. You don't even begin to understand how powerful you are!"
"As a matter of fact, I've been down that road. Chosen one. Revenant Summa Cum Laude. Tooth fairy. What I got from it was the guilt of having killed innocent people and quite a few snuffed ghosts that were only cycling by." I say.
"You didn't have me to guide you." says Tom.
Hey dude, didn't you say government is for the living, not the dead. Why should a bunch of ghosts interfere? We should all head back to a Society outpost and let this mess work itself out. So far our involvement has only made things worse." Joe says.
"Oh, beat me with my own words. Crucify a three hundred year old tongue. You know I also wrote a book about Deism and equated Christians with Atheists. I wound up a cursed drunkard, penniless, friendless and in danger of being forgotten entirely. I have moved on."
Once again Tom focuses on me. "Friend, I don't even know your name."
"Call me "Archer." I say.
"Well Mr. Archer, let me examine you if I may"
"Okay."
Tom reaches into his jean pocket and pulls out an antiquated jeweler's spectacle with many dials and gizmos. He adjusts several dials. Then clicks on some sort of micro-electronic buttons on the side. Finally he sets them on his head.
"This won't hurt at all. I am just going to look at your eyes. Ah, yes. Oh, now that is quite revolting. Dear Mr. Archer you really have eaten some rotten, nasty things. How...quiet is it in there?"
"You mean in my head?" I ask.
"Yes, are their voices telling you to do things you don't want?"
"A few"
Tom reaches into a satchel he was carrying and pulls out an intimidating set of tongs.
"This is going to hurt." Tom says.
"Hold on! What exactly are you doing to him?" Life asks.
"Mr. Archer is a revenant. Some call them Draugur. They are a special form of ghost. Lots of people have written about them, but most of those authors don't know what they are talking about. When a revenant absorbs a life essence, mortal or paranormal, that essence is not truly destroyed. Instead it become a sort of food source for the revenant...almost a fat reserve, that powers the revenant's special abilities. If a revenant absorbs a particularly intelligent or powerful entity, especially a malevolent one, those beings can push weaker essences to the forefront when the revenant needs to use up some energy. Worse, they can make powerful suggestions that come across as that revenant's own thoughts. Over time a revenant's willpower can be overcome, particularly if as in Mr. Archer's case he is not even aware of any of this information."
"So what you are saying is that if he has some evil wraith stuck in his skull he could become possessed by it"? Joe asks.
"I have no doubt, given some of the claims I have heard that has already happened. In fact we can't even be certain Mr. Archer is in control of his faculties right now." Tom says.
"What happens if you leave him alone." Life asks.
"Maybe nothing...at first. Eventually he will be overwhelmed by something truly nasty and will kill you all." Tom says.
"Sir, if it pleases you, I would like your permission to render any malevolent essences floating around in your head inert."
"No need to be so formal. I have enough trouble controlling my own impulses. If you can weed out the competition I would be most grateful." I say.
"Everyone else step back. Keep on your guard. Hide the dog and kid. If chaos reigns I am going to need room to work...not trying to scare anyone...just be alert!" Tom says.
Tom plunges his tongs into my skull. I can hear them whirling inside with a high frequency pitch. As Tom adjusts the tongs which clearly are more advanced than the mechanical apparatus they appeared to be, then he activates some sort of sonic pulse at which point my mind becomes fuzzy.
"Spectacular specimen! Oh, you are putting up a good fight. But you are no match for ole' Tom. Gotcha!"
"You're killing him!" Life says.
"Yes of course! ...Oh, not Mr. Archer. Relax! I have a firm grip on him. The spasms will desist once the dark essence is expunged and neutralized." Tom says.
Joe begins to activate the Society ghost trap and points it at Tom. Tom quickly points a small reddish tube at the ghost trap and it deactivates.
In a voice not his own Joe says, "Release the revenant or I shall destroy you all."
The room fills up with an oily darkness so black that no one can see what happens next.
"Do be still!" Tom says. He pulls the tong out of my head and my mind clears and so does the room. Joe collapses momentarily before looking around the room confused.
"That was the worst of them. Shall we expunge the other half dozen before moving on?" Tom asks.
"Proceed." I say.
"Good then."
Tom works his magic with the tongs, occasionally pulling out some other device to aid him. After a few hours I am feeling much refreshed and effusive with power.
"What now?" Life asks.
"I suggest we put Mr. Sellers out of business and on the way I will do my best to update you concerning my interest in you and who I represent." Tom says.
Sunny rushes outside the mine, serving as a white beacon to guide us to the exit.