As they followed Irini through the halls, Aria recoiled at the blaze of sickness that wafted out of storage and manufacturing rooms. She didn’t know if she should help fix the tug, but she couldn’t stop Pan. She hoped Irini’s threads wouldn’t work too well. The longer they stayed, the better chance Sotir had of finding them. Unfortunately, that meant the Ischyros would also find them, but Sotir must have a plan to deal with that problem. Moreso, Aria was dying to know if he had any idea he would encounter Pan before he refused to help Aria.

Aria swerved to avoid a cloud of green and couldn’t help bumping into Pan and Irini.

“You alright?” Pan asked.

Aria nodded, keeping quiet about what she saw. She’d started to wonder if they walked through corridors of carcinogens, but she didn’t want to scare Irini. Aria thought there was little that could scare Pan. Besides, Pan was a healer now. She had so much less to fear.

Aria couldn’t help but be jealous. Here was Pan, whose body wouldn’t fail her. Here was Irini who’d spent such a short time in the hospital, following her Shift. Her body wouldn’t fail her more than the average Scaldin. Aria, who had the worst situation of the three, had the least to look forward to. She experienced pain, actual pain, from her Shift, and she couldn’t imagine that getting better with age. Her family wasn’t exactly disease free either. She wondered if Gavain knew. She wondered that if years later, he’d resent her for the things that could happen, would likely happen. He was a bit older than her, so maybe he planned to be gone. Aria tried not to think about it: ending up in a home.

“I repeat. Are you alright?”

Aria looked up at Pan. “I’m fine.”

“Well, I can tell you’re lying, but I’ll let it slide. I just hope it doesn’t have anything to do with what you see.” Pan looked ahead. Her narrowed eyes studied the hall.

“Pan, where have you been for two years?” Aria thought she knew, but she wanted Pan to say it. Just tell me you’re a waypoint watcher. Let’s have the truth from you.

“Ooo, I know!” Irini’s voice betrayed excitement, but she still focused on the golden thread only she could see. Her aura glowed with gentle white light.

“I’d like to hear what you think,” Aria said.

Irini continued to watch the thread. “I think that Pan works at a children’s hospital.”

Aria couldn’t help it. She laughed. “Oh no, Irini. I think you’re…”

Pan’s aura bled purple but also a hint of yellow: mischief and anxiety.

Aria said, “It’s not true. We’re being misled, and yet…we’re also hitting a nerve. What made you say children’s hospital?”

“It’s where she got the tug,” Irini said. “When I was ten, I traveled with my parents to a nearby planet, and behind a fence, I saw a tugship. My dad said it belonged to the children’s hospital. He said it didn’t work, but the kids used it for play.” Irini shrugged. “See, Pan must have gone to a different hospital and fixed up the tug. Now, she takes it out at night. Or, wait…sometimes, you’re gone for a few days. Uh, I didn’t think this through.”

“No, you didn’t.” Pan’s aura bled yellow anxiety, but the purple strengthened into something like triumph. “What exactly goes on in your head, Irini? It seems like a fun place.”

Irini shrank and hid behind her aura.

“I mean that in a good way,” Pan added. She also hid in a cloud of color – sad and happy colors.

Aria studied the confusing arrangement.

Pan caught Aria’s look and complained, “Come on. Let it be.”

I know I should, but…

“She’s sad, but she’s also happy. This is the wrong direction to take, and yet, I don’t know…it’s right. Try more medical settings.” Aria watched Pan’s aura.

“Hmmm,” Irini said. “I don’t know. What else is there? Intensive care, but none of us could get that job. Maybe…” Irini’s eyes got wide. “I know! A nursing home.”

Pan tossed her hands up. “I was a nursing aide! I worked on a nursing ship for eight months. Happy?”

Irini’s aura retreated, putting more focus into her features. Pan’s aura overflowed with shame and sadness. Aria felt a bit guilty, but she told herself it had to be done. She had to know what was going on with Pan.

Aria asked, “Why did you pick that job?”

“On-the-job training or haven’t you noticed that we’re not trained for anything outside of being arcane?” Pan looked firmly ahead.

Aria had noticed. The past years she’d done her best to study the politics and law of the Scaldin. Aria still felt woefully undereducated. Still, she didn’t think that was the only reason Pan picked the job.

Irini broke in. “I think it’s noble, like Aria said.”

“Aria has been calling me noble?” Pan gave Aria a look of disbelief. Her aura took on a sick shade of green.

Aria looked away and studied the surrounding auras, her equivalent of whistling to block out something she didn’t want to participate in.

“Hey. I think this is it.” Irini pointed at a dark doorway. “Are there…”

“No ghosts,” Pan said. “I can’t understand where they’ve gone.”

Aria wanted to laugh at the ominous tone, but Aria took Pan’s ghost sight too seriously. She had seen enough of that miner two years ago.

Pan crossed her arms and stared at a ball, shot through with pipes. Irini and her thread declared the thing necessary for repairs. Although Pan found it on the schematic, she had no idea what it was. She couldn’t perform complicated repairs on the tug, and the current repairs fell under that umbrella.

Pan sucked in a long breath and let it out. When Brynn arrived, she could direct them. She’d done everything and knew more than her living companions probably ever would. In her youth, Brynn traveled Scaldigir and space as a working telekinetic. Pan didn’t want to rely on her per se, especially given Aria’s discomfort, but Pan needed to.

Irini’s hand hovered over the ship part.

“It’s okay Irini,” Aria said. “I don’t see any disease rising from it. When Pan pulled it away from the whole, it looked a lot less dangerous.”

Irini straightened and backed away. “I still don’t want to touch it.”

Pan didn’t blame her. Who would? “Allow me.” She levitated the object.

Irini jumped.

Pan strode into the hall and took the object with her. “Still look sickening?” she asked Aria.

Aria stared at the sphere probably separating its aura from the larger miasma of sickness. “Well, just a little.”

“Fine. I’ll levitate it, but I don’t think there’s anything wrong with the part itself. Let’s find the rest of them.”

Irini made a small noise. “We can’t put these things in our ship. That’s crazy. Can’t you ask someone if they’re safe?”

Pan looked up the hall. She looked down. She saw no ghosts. “Not really. There’s no one around.”

Pan couldn’t believe the ghosts stayed quiet this long. During her other visits, the lights went out and plunged her into darkness. Then, the fun began – for the spirits. Even Brynn joined in, but at least, Brynn kept her hauntings to well-timed jump scares and a hearty, stereotypical Boo!

Pan felt for the button of her flashlight, ready to snap the light on as needed.

Aria sighed. “Smelling the scow can’t be good for us. These things will be in the engine, away from us.” Aria gestured to Irini. “You’ve got to lead.”

Irini frowned but hurried out.

As Pan followed, the object bobbed along behind. She wanted to put it ahead, to keep an eye on it, but Irini had to be in front. Pan didn’t want the girl to stop in her tracks at the sight of the offensive object, like the opposite of an animal in pursuit of its favorite vegetable.

Pan was about to ask Aria some more questions, specifically about the people they both disliked back on Scaldigir, but a figure caught her eye. In a doorway, it hovered, bending its knees in a rhythmic pattern. It looked loose and unnatural as if the thing lacked joints.

“Uh, stop.” Pan barred the path with her arm and kept her eyes on the thing. “I think I should split from you two, but that means you might have to carry the ship parts.

Irini gazed at Pan. “Why?”

“Well, it’s got something to do with lots of golden thread.” Pan glanced at her friends. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the ghost dance a little closer. She didn’t know it.

“Oh my god.” Irini started to shake.

“Oh, you see it?” Pan asked.

“There’s a shadow ahead.” Aria backed up.

Pan nodded. “Aria...I don’t want to ask this of you, but can you touch it?” Pan pointed at the levitated object.

With reluctance, Aria plucked it out of the air. “If I have to. Should I be worried about you?”

Pan shook her head. “No. Remember to wash your hands after you handle that thing. Just in case.”

“I’m going to wash more than that.”

Pan glanced at the ghost and saw it waving its arms side to side. The deceased appendages looked like noodles.

“What the…?” Pan walked towards it. She gave it a wide berth.

It met her eyes.

“So…dancing? I didn’t know we could do that here.” Pan walked around the thing. “I come here sometimes. Do you know me?”

The ghost froze. His face was stark white, and his eyes just holes. Large wrinkles marred every inch of his skin. He cocked his head and smiled.

Pan began to back away. “What kind of work do you do?”

“I run the liquid lines,” the ghost hissed.

Pan straightened. “Oh.”

His face contorted into an expression of anger, and he lunged for Pan, screaming as his twisted form reached for her.

She turned and ran. The ghost had behaved exactly as predicted though she’d never expected him to be the one.