The Unhappy Medium, page 19
‘I can imagine, especially with the numbers constantly swelling. It must be wall-to-wall up there.’
‘Ah well, the thing is you see, it’s not , and this is where it gets really interesting. Most of the new arrivals are your average man and woman, part of that huge mass of humanity that just come and go unnoticed both here and there. They’re heading for whatever it is that happens after Purgatory. Bless them, they are so nondescript and un-newsworthy that they are quickly and utterly forgotten, the lucky blighters. With no one remembering them beyond the odd photo in the family album, they can fade happily away to the other place – they can rest in peace.’
‘The other place? Is that heaven?’
‘Would love to tell you, but in all honesty, we don’t know any more about that than you do. All we’re sure of is that you can’t get the hell out of Purgatory until people stop talking about you, here on earth. That seems to be the substance of it. And bear in mind, Purgatory is so boring that it’s, well ...’
‘Purgatory?’
‘Yep, it’s absolutely tedious. So what you really want is to get out of there and get some decent eternal sleep. But, if you’ve made the mistake of making yourself famous, infamous or leaving some other form of historical legacy, you’ve really shot yourself in the foot. Every time you crop up in the national consciousness, there goes your chance of getting away from an eternity of mindless boredom. I wonder just how keen people would be to make themselves famous if they knew the truth. I’ve seen celebrities banging their heads on the white walls after a month or two. ’
‘So it’s better to live a quiet life then?’
‘Oh completely. God, if you could see the state Lawrence of Arabia has got himself into. And Alexander the Great – well, he’s a lot of things these days and “great” certainly isn’t one of them. Nothing gets you down as much as boredom, Newton, and Purgatory has that in spades.’
‘Isn’t it something that the Bible goes on about? Or, Dante’s Inferno ? That has Purgatory in it. If we aren’t meant to know these things, then how does it leak out like that?’
‘You’re quite right; it has leaked out over the millennia. That’s because when all this got started and civilisation was being test driven, a few bad mistakes were made. Secrecy wasn’t as tight as it is now. Back in those days you’d tell some guy – and Dante’s a good example – then as soon as you turned your back he’d use what he’d learned to gain power, start a religion or write a simply divine comedy.’
‘Ah, so they did tell people the truth?’
‘Well they had to, there are a lot of loose ends that need tying up, you know, when people die.’
‘Loose ends?’
‘Yes, you see, just like the mobile phones and the cameras, there are things that are kind of stuck between the two realities, awkward things, and they have to be “cleaned up”. I’ll give you an example. There are relics, accidental and deliberate, that get left behind here on earth. These have the effect of keeping specific individuals in a vivid state up there in Purgatory. Some of them are useful people – good souls who help things tick over in a controlled though admittedly boring state. These people are not especially famous, so they have to do things to keep their memory alive.’
‘Such as?’ asked Newton.
‘Well they create relics. They hide things in antiques, buy up their personal possessions, and clean headstones. There’s a bit of cheating, you know – they make an artist more famous than he ought to be just so people talk about them a lot. Edvard Munch, for instance. Those awful miserable things he did, they should have been forgotten a long time ago, but it turns out he’s great at double-entry book-keeping so they had to cheat a bit and keep him in the public eye.’
‘That’s not fair on the art world is it?’
‘Well, since when was the art world fair ? Have you seen Tracey Emin’s stuff? ’
‘Good point.’
‘Now the other side of the coin is that there are bad people, nasty, evil mean-spirited, err, spirits. You’d think people would want to avoid thinking about them as much as possible but, in fact, sadly, the opposite is true. Half of what is on the History Channel is about Hitler or some other historical scumbag. Every time they run History’s Top Ten Evil Men , they all start swanning around again causing trouble.’
‘Can’t you stop them?’
‘Well yes, thankfully, there’s a kind of prison, they keep the worst ones in there.’
‘Prison? How can you detain somebody who can whizz through walls?’
‘It’s not easy. I don’t understand the science and I certainly don’t understand all the chanting and other mumbo jumbo required – all I know is that they’ve got these bastards all tied up in ectoplasm.’
‘So what happens if they get out?’
‘Bad stuff. Invariably, they’re hell bent on getting back to earth and causing mayhem. Possessions, poltergeists, arson, reality television, anywhere they can cause trouble, they will. You’ve got to keep a close eye on them. And of course, they’re not moving on up there so long as people down here insist on finding evil fascinating.’
‘But how are you defining evil?’
‘That’s a complex one. Other people can explain that better than me. Suffice to say, evil is a major headache for the people that run the place, the council so to speak. Without those chaps and the solid bureaucratic effort they put in, the earth would be awash with all manner of nasties.’
‘So are these cells filled with people like ... er ... I mean, is Hitler there?’
‘Oh hell yes, he’s not what he was though. After the war he kind of lost his puff a bit and he doesn’t do much beyond muttering. Goebbels and Himmler are much worse.’
‘Any other big names?’
‘Jack the Ripper, lots of serial murderers.’
‘Jack the Ripper. Does that mean you know who he was?’
‘I do now. Sorry, can’t tell you though.’
‘Dammit! Protocol?’
‘Sorry, yes. Not everyone is well known though – evil isn’t always front-page news, quite often it’s hidden in the small ads. The evil deeds hang on whether they’re famous or not. Either way, they have to be sealed off and removed, one relic or memory at a time.’
‘You can do that, how?’
‘Well you have to root the stuff out. Once you have it you can “dispose” of it.’
‘And that gets rid of them?’
‘With the older villains it does. They might be on a bit of papyrus here, a wall carving there. That’s not such a problem. With the Nazis it’s just not on, they’re bloody everywhere, all over the historical record like flies. Films, memorabilia, fetish parties ... everywhere. All you can do is truss the buggers up and hope for the best. But for the older scumbags, well that’s where we need the odd mortal agent here on terra firma who can root the stuff out for us.’
‘Interesting,’ said Newton, who by now was worrying that he would believe anything. ‘Ludicrous but interesting. OK, so let me summarise ...’ Newton thought for a painful mind-flipping second while he gathered his frazzled wits. ‘If I’m to believe everything you’ve told me, the following is true:
(1) When you die you can fly?’
‘Yessum.’
‘(2) When you die, you eventually end up at something akin to a flight check-in and queue for three days to have an intimate body search?’
‘Sadly ... yes.’
‘(3) The afterlife is very white and very boring?’
‘Dull as ditchwater, yes.’
‘(4) Famous people are forced by their own fame to stay in Purgatory longer?’
‘Correct.’
‘And ... this I particularly like, they hate it.’
‘They do, they loathe it ... well, not Marcel Proust, oddly he seems to thrive on it.’
‘(5) Evil people are kept in cells to stop them returning to earth as ghosts?’
‘Essentially, yes ...’
‘(6) When you’re forgotten, you just fade away?’
‘So I gather.’
‘(7) Purgatory employs living people to do small jobs for them on earth to help keep things under control? ’
‘Yes that’s about it – I have to say you are a lot better at explaining it than I was, very succinct.’
Newton closed his eyes and leant back, sighing. ‘You’ve got to be fucking mad if you think I’m going to buy all that.’
‘Oh not again, Newton, I thought we were past this.’
‘Oh I’m convinced you’re a ghost. But the rest of it ... that’s just mad!’
‘Newton! Dammit, I’m telling you the truth!’
‘Yeah right! I’m sorry, it’s all too unlikely.’
‘Well of course it is!’ exclaimed Alex.
‘Look, if I take all this onboard then it makes my whole life a complete farce!’
‘You can’t blame me for that!’
‘But you’re telling me that all these nut jobs I’ve been debunking all this years, all the mediums and ghost hunters, they were right ?’
‘Actually, no, no I’m not. You can rest easy there. Most of the loons are definitely loons – liars, dreamers and fantasists. They mostly made it all up. In that respect, you were on the button. It’s just that you didn’t realise there was something else going on. Something real. The real mediums work in the shadows – unseen.’
‘Oh boy, my head hurts.’ Newton sat glumly for a moment, trying to sort everything into a natural and pragmatic shape, which he couldn’t. ‘Hold on a moment Alex, why are you telling me all this? Surely that’s the last thing you should be doing?’
‘Well look, that’s the thing. When I rolled up in Purgatory, I was sent to this office where this robed chap starts asking me all about science. He tells me all about the problems they’ve been having working with the living, going way back. When they first started to need a presence here on earth, they just weren’t sure how to go about it; after all, at that time everyone was three sheets to the wind on myth and magic mushrooms. They tried to recruit the odd bloke as an agent and that started up all sorts of weird stuff. He’d start wearing feathers on his head, go mad or jump into a volcano. Later, they managed to get a bit better because people were getting smarter – the Greeks were pretty good, the Romans less so. Apparently, the Dark Ages were a bloody nightmare. You could fill a peasant’s breeches just by saying hello to them in those days, and once the Middle Ages proper had started, it was all witches this and heretics that. With the Enlightenment, you get a whole set of new problems.’
‘How so,’ said Newton.
‘Well, questioning people like Newton or Halley – give them an inch and they’ll want to go the full nautical mile. Do that and you create a monster, from sedan chairs to the Space Shuttle in ten years, very dangerous.’
‘Ah, so there is science up there then?’
‘Sure, in a way, but not in a way you’d recognise. It’s all a lot more instinctive. Proper science with experiments, peer review, university research – all that’s impossible, everything is so unfocused. The emphasis is on all these powers that everyone seems to possess by default. Up there, we can see everything in a way that you can’t when you’re alive. You can sort of see into things like atoms, molecules, particles. There’s no equivalent to CERN up there, if that’s what you mean. You don’t need all the equipment because you are the equipment.’
‘OK, so how come there’s a danger of knowledge leaking out to us mere mortals then?’
‘Well, it’s all to do with knowing what’s possible. We can’t afford to give anyone any ideas. It would end in tears. Weapons research would be on it like a shot. You can’t let the living anywhere near that. You see, a lot of the stuff I thought I understood, I didn’t really. Well ... I do now.’
‘Such as?’ said Newton, chancing his arm.
‘Dimensions, quantum theory, string theory. Some right, some wrong.
‘Which are wrong?’
‘Aha. There you go again. Nice try. But Newton, really, I can’t tell you. What I can say is that having seen under the bonnet, so to speak, I can now understand so many, many things.’
‘All things? You mean a theory of ... everything ?’
‘Oh good lord no! There’s always more out there, some of the new phenomena I’ve seen, well ... you couldn’t make it up. Even a third-rate science fiction writer out of his nut on LSD couldn’t contrive the real nature of matter. And anyway, up there we’ve no way of testing or analysing this stuff I’ve seen – well not yet anyway. No, there’s no theory of everything in the end, Newton, just more “everythings” to look for.’
‘I don’t know whether I find that frustrating or comforting,’ said Newton. ‘I mean, it does kind of underline the idea that we’ve all been spending our lives chasing shadows. ’
‘Oh sure, but they’re important shadows. One day I suspect the two worlds will connect, mainly because of the effort people like you and I have put in. But for now, I’m afraid they have to remain separate.’
‘Oh boy,’ said Newton, wearily. ‘I don’t know what to make of all this.’
‘Yup, that was my thought initially. We just aren’t wired up to take it in easily. Even old-fashioned mediums take years to settle in.’
‘Mediums? I just can’t believe that mediums are real,’ said Newton incredulous. ‘I spent most of my adult life knocking those people down.’
‘And rightly so,’ confirmed Sixsmith. ‘In reality, a good medium wouldn’t do TV, séances or anything like that. They’d work discreetly doing the odd job that was requested and then blend back in with normal life. Sadly, a lot of the time they find out the truth and take advantage – or worse. We’ve had people starting religions, robbing people blind, fraud. Quite a large number just go stark raving mad, they can’t deal with it rationally at all.’
‘I’m not surprised to be honest.’
‘With the age of reason, the plan in Purgatory was to avoid the rational and use all manner of crazies to do the work. So they recruited fortune tellers, religious separatists, hermits, witches. Well, needless to say, that was a big mistake; they all ended up dunked, burnt or beheaded. All the same, they kept doing it, so worried were they about a bridge between rational analysis and the afterlife.’ Sixsmith then paused in his story and looked at Newton. ‘Until now.’
‘Uh oh,’ said Newton, ‘I think I know where this is going. You want me to be one, don’t you?’
‘Be one what?’
‘A medium.’
‘Err ... well frankly, yes.’
‘Are you serious?! After all I’ve been through, all I’ve said on the subject, and you want me to be a bloody medium?’
‘Oh go on.’
‘No, that’s N O. No.’
‘Wait ... Newton, let me explain. It’s a great deal.’
‘You have to be joking, Alex. How can I be a medium? The whole idea is ludicrous.’
‘You’re thinking of the old-style medium, this is the new version. Medium 2.1! It’s pragmatic, it’s scientific, you’d love it! ’
‘Scientific my arse! After everything you’ve been telling me, you expect me to buy that? No Alex. I won’t do it.’
‘You’d make a great medium. You’d be practical, pragmatic, grounded and logical.’
‘Bugger off, I won’t do it.’
‘Oh go on.’
‘No.’
‘How about if I explain the staff benefits?’
‘The whaaat? Now you’re just taking the piss.’
‘No really! It’s a proper paying job. You get holidays – loads of holidays – and there’ll be a lot of travel.’
‘Oh come on, you just suggested I become a medium, now you’re making it sound like a position in middle management. Anyway, I’ve already got a job.’
‘Oh yes, I noticed that,’ Sixsmith muttered dismissively.
‘What’s wrong with it? I had to start somewhere.’
‘Well, it’s hardly stimulating compared to what you can and did do!’
‘We all know what happened there, and by the way Alex, dead or not dead, why don’t you just say it?’
‘Say what?’
‘I told you so. About Havotech.’
‘Oh yes, good point,’ said Alex, ‘I told you so.’
‘Yes,’ said Newton flatly, ‘but you really did though, didn’t you? Sorry Alex, you were right. I was a pompous arrogant little tit. I should have listened.’ Newton was so far from his comfort zone he could no longer see it, even with binoculars.
‘Well listen to me now. Newton, seriously, this is an interesting job I’m offering you. Unique. Well not unique , I suppose, there are a few other people helping us.’
‘How many?’
‘Not sure, couple of hundred.’
‘Worldwide?’
‘Oh no, that’s just in the UK.’
‘Well I’m not going to be one of them Alex. Sorry. You’ll have to ask someone else.’
‘Newton, I’m begging you to reconsider. This is the chance of a lifetime. The work is fascinating, the pay is good, the hours are flexible and you get to meet lots of interesting people, most of whom, admittedly, are dead.’
‘Sorry Alex, I can’t, I just can’t. Maybe it’s a pride thing. But I just can’t. I’d be an unhappy medium.’
‘Look,’ said Sixsmith softly, ‘I understand, I really do. I’d be exactly the same in your place.’
‘Well you’re not in my place Alex. I’m sorry. I can’t do it.’
‘But why not at least have a think about it. Give it a few days?’
‘OK,’ said Newton reluctantly. ‘I’ll think about it. But don’t hold your breath. I won’t change my mind.’
‘Thanks,’ said Sixsmith, transparency beginning to return to his outline. ‘Look I’ve got to go now, I’m puffed out. Have a good think. You know how to reach me.’
‘I do?’
‘Sure,’ said Alex, ‘just whistle and I’ll come to you my lad.’
CHAPTER 16 – Hospitalit y
Chris Baxter, salesman, sat immaculate on the lumpy old bed and breathed out a long frustrated sigh. He’d been living and working at Hadlow Grange with the McCauleys for an entire week, yet nothing had actually happened. Sure, they’d showed him a few local developments – Juggin’s Lump and the Cemetery Estate up by Blandford – but they’d hardly made use of his sales acumen and there had been no further mention of the whole television thing. Also, he wasn’t at all happy about the conditions in the Hadlow Grange residential suite, as Ascot had called it. He’d put a suit on every morning, just to fly his own flag, but the absence of any real business environment was starting to make him feel a bit of an idiot. He looked around the distasteful little attic room with its damp patches and peeling paper. There was a framed jigsaw of Constable’s The Hay Wain on the wall; several pieces had fallen down behind the ill-fitted glass, including the bits showing the dog and the cartwheel.
