Halapatov

Chapter Fifteen

Once we knew where we were going and, very vaguely, what we were planning to do to defeat the ghosts, it was a lot easier to think in the short term. Riowyn looked up the nearest government outlet, used a reporting site to send them a message and some files about what we'd learnt, and we headed there to explain in person. While we travelled, we put our heads together to decide what to say, how to condense Riowyn's research and express the danger properly.

Well, Riowyn and I did anyway.

Sophie, as per the past couple of days, was extremely quiet. I didn't know what to do about that. I knew that she would find it difficult to talk about and honestly, I was afraid to ask. I knew... some things about her past but not enough to understand just what she was freaking out about. I knew she thought this accelerated situation was her fault, and believing yourself to be the cause of many deaths is more than enough reason to become pale and repressed as Sophie was now but there was something deeper to it. Some past trauma, someone who'd died, something. I couldn't even begin to imagine her suffering – how long had she travelled alone as a teenager through the depths of space searching for her family? – but I could sense her current pain. And I was so so worried for her mental state. Even just what we'd been exposed to between the teleport watch and the ghosts was messing with our heads, so I knew that there was a real worry that Sophie would lose her mind. I missed the bright, energetic and determined girl who'd helped me on Flauraan. I didn't want to lose her in the midst of this.

But, of course, there were bigger things going on, and it wasn't as if Sophie was the only one to worry about either. The gleam in Riowyn's eye that hadn't gone away was worrying me, especially from what we'd learned about her so far. Obsessing over these ghosts had consumed her life. She wanted to be the one to stop it. What lengths would she go?

My brain was running overtime, but Riowyn and I got our story straight, and I kept an eye on Sophie as we approached the entrance to the imposing metal building with Staarus and Halapatovian insignia projected on its front. We found ourselves being shepherded to a reception desk.

At the sight of us, dishevelled from our few days of ghosts and chaos, the receptionist pressed a button on his desk and called in an officer.

He walked in a few moments later, with furrowed eyebrows and a slight frown. "So you are the girls who reported the source of the recent influx of apparitions?"

"Yes, and if you head there now you should be able to-"

"We don't need to hear any more." The officer lifted his hand and bluntly interrupted. The badges on his uniform flashed as he turned and focussed his gaze on Sophie in particular. I followed his gaze to the watch on her wrist, and I remembered the readings and testimony we'd sent with our report. We'd told them about the connection between the device and the ghosts, and it seemed they'd understood.

Sophie's repressed bubble burst suddenly and she smashed her fist against the reception desk, eyes wild. "Look, you need to do something! Don't you understand how much danger the world is in?"

The officer stared coldly back at her. At the look in his eyes, it seemed as if a nest of flying insects had exploded in my stomach. Oh no, what had we gotten into now. "We are well aware how much danger the world is in," he replied sternly. "Mainly, it seems, due to you."

I watched as Sophie's face slackened and paled. "What are you saying? You won't do anything because it's my fault?"

"Oh we'll do something," the man said menacingly, and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. He nodded aside to his colleagues, two equally as menacing women and a man with energy weapons which were raised as if to stun her. A thousand panicked thoughts raced through my already-stressed-to-the-maximum mind. I reacted instinctively, and the screams of a frightened seven-year-old seemed to echo through the years as my hands raised before me and particles of air rushed outwards, hitting with force anything that was in their way.