Meeting Ghost

I met Ghost on a busy street on a sidewalk downtown. Like he said on the phone, he was easy to spot. While there is a small number of black men in khaki suits and trilbies in Tennessee, I don't think many of them are known speaking in British accents and happily chatting up random people.

"So," I said, trying to ignore the various agents I recognized around me, each trying to blend in (on reflection, I think Ghost was doing the same thing). "I understand that the person we've been tracking is your girlfriend."

He grinned. I think I actually embarrassed the former cultist-slash-spy. "Not exactly," he said. "Just someone special to me."

"Any idea how to track her down?"

He shook his head. "I've been looking for her for some time. This is the closest I've gotten to actually finding her."

"Why do the Nightlanders protect her? What do they get out of it?"

Ghost, to his credit, didn't show any overt signs of discomfort at being addressed by my, um, roommate. "I don't know. To be honest, I'm not sure if the shadows guarding her are technically Nightlanders. Once they were, but they've been part of a freaky mad-science fetal experiment for a decade. All I know is that they don't like it when Neomaria gets agitated."

"What do you mean?"

"At first, I thought they attacked anyone who got close. But during my search, I met a few people who got close to her. Each of them didn't approach until they'd talked her into calming down. I think it's only when she's scared or upset that the shadows lash out."

I nodded. "Hence why all the dead servants and our agents. Of course, they'd frighten her."

"Yeah, about that--"

We were interrupted by Agent Stone, who was suddenly walking beside Ghost. "I want to know what the Archive wants with our operation."

Ghost blinked at her. "Ma'am, I cut ties with the Archive when I started searching for--"

"Bullshit. No one leaves the Archive. You're a Blind Man Cult--"

"Grandfather," he corrected her, presumably by reflex.

"--And cults don't let their members just walk away." Stone regarded him with a stare that could have made a lion swear off meat. "If you want to keep us from that bringing a murderer to justice--"

"Murderer!?" Ghost raised his voice there, drawing a few looks. He quickly quieted down. "Neomaria is a victim. She has no control over the shadows. I know you've lost people but--"

"But nothing. People died. It's her fault."

I decided to step in there. "Look, we can discuss who's evil later. Ghost, you were about to ask me something?"

"Right," he sighed. "I read your blog, Matthias. There was a victim you couldn't identify. One in commando gear. I want to see the body."

"Too late," Stone said. "It's been shipped away to headquarters. What the hell did you want to do with it anyway?"

"It's just... troubling," Ghost said. "Over the past few months, I've noticed things. People following me. Signs that others are looking for Neomaria as well. Of course, the PREs probably want her, as a curiosity if nothing else, but I think someone else is trying to find her."

"Who?" I asked.

"How much do you know about the Archive? Are you familiar with the Seven Callings."

Stone snorted. "Pretty much everyone is, ever since your girlfriend's sister decided to become the Cult's public face. You got Scribes, Inquisitors, Keepers, Brokers, Collectors, Martyrs, and Analysts, right?"

"And which would you say is the most dangerous?"

I shrugged. "The combat ones, I guess. Those are the Martyrs, right?"

Ghost nodded. "There is a very good chance that the Martyrs are hunting Neomaria as well. I think your John Doe was one."

That got us quiet. Eventually, Stone decided to break said silence: "Shit."

Once again, Ghost nodded. "Couldn't have said it better myself."