A silence overwhelmed the passage below Tasìa after the last ghost dispersed into blue smoke. Beneath her, the field of grass swayed as if brushed by a vastly expansive hand.

Even so, the squalls of jungle unrest were momentarily no more until they stitched back together with one sound overlapping the other. In the span of a minute, the deep vineland cacophony of noise was rebuilt.

The guerilla was wrong, she thought, there is something about this place that is markedly not real.

Tasìa decided to climb further up the ridge to surveille the path ahead of her from a better vantage point. She jumped to the vine the ghost had used in its climb, realizing too late she should have inspected the vine's condition first.

It yanked loosely in her grip. Tasìa twisted her lower body around to compensate, only to bang her knees into the hard clay.

It proved worth the bruising pain; she established a grip with her thighs pressed against the ridge wall.

Are we getting stupid in our old age, Tasìa? She cursed in disgust with herself, as she inspected the dead and nearly dried out vine in her hands. Just put all your trust in the actions of a discorporate entity in relation to gravity and see how that works out for you.

She pulled the vine loose from the cranny it was barely ensconced and dropped its long ropey tangle to the ground.

Now, she reached up and she smacked the dry red clay.

The clays of El Hoyo formed a firm surface as Tasìa knew from her many previous explorations within its valleys. She was afraid the extra-natural biological growth had loosened and degraded the solid earth.

Not by much, as of yet, Tasìa decided as she cupped her hands up against the surface.

Tasìa climbed the rest of the way towards the ridge top. She peeked over at the buzzards. Their feathers were ruffled from the previous commotion, but none were injured beyond their own comical scuffle.

One buzzard began to squawk as Tasìa eased up the crested ground nearby them. The other two followed in course.

It was not difficult to understand their intended message. Their shrieks deciphered, thusly.

"Lay down!"

"Die!"

'We eat you!"

As she grabbed the pistol scope out of her fanny-pack, Tasìa stared back at the buzzards in contempt, ready to kick a boot in their throats if they tried anything.

Her neoPalm vibrated against her thigh. Tasìa retrieved it and she flicked it on.

"I can hear that you have acquired new friends," Felicité teased.

Tasìa shook her head. Looking towards the field below, she raised the scope to her eye, as she spoke in turn.

"Anyone who doesn't believe in the reality of intrinsic evil has never come face to face with a buzzard."

Felicité laughed. "I was shocked when I discovered they are common in the world outside. They are such malignant, mutant-looking beasts; as a kid, I assumed they were abominations indigenous to the Quadra."

Tasìa thought of Mani who went up the ridge to confront the buzzards. The terrible birds must have been analogous to something the real Mani had actually experienced.

"Felicité, I don't know if you were old enough to experience the ghosts."

Through the scope, Tasìa focused on movement by a set of silvery disks at the other end of the field of grass. A long, thin garden snake caught a field mouse.

It pulled the struggling vermin into a blackberry bush. The silvery disk were merely pans left under the bushes.

Tasìa's mouth watered. Her mom made delicious blackberry pies. Blackberries were awesome. To think, some killjoys treat it as an invasive species fit for eradication.

Felicité kept speaking as Tasìa's attention was divided from observing the drama of the wild kingdom as it unfolded.

"True. That was a little before my time," the Argentinian began. "I studied the phenomenon quite extensively. Those ghosts that we just witnessed exhibited properties that were not reported two decades ago. They displayed reactive capabilities to this environment."

Tasìa placed the scope down in her lap to rub her sweat off the lens.

"Felicité, you are the expert here. It's difficult for me to sort this out. What we witnessed could have been any number of things. A recording of events that grafted real factors from the world around us. Or, a recording with AI embedded that simulated self-awareness, so effectively, it convinced itself of its own incompleteness."

"Or," Felicité began, "it could be just the Cull Spores fucking with us. Much like they always do. That siloquey was a bit overwrought like poorly acted stage drama, was it not? If I had a means to nick some of the codebase for that haunting I could have a reasonable chance to answer your question."

"But, you can't?"

This time, Tasìa used the scope to survey beyond the field of grass. Another path curved up in an s-shape to the far valley. The ground of this path seemed to shimmer. It was beyond the magnification capacity of her scope to focus on the cause.

As Tasìa did this, Felicité answered Tasìa's last question with much suspiration in her voice.

"Therein lies the rub. The codebase is stored holographically in every molecule of the spores that performed that haunting.

"However, the information is dispersed and networked through each molecule to each other molecule as it is needed, and this practice is done continuously. Retrieving it from the molecules of nanospores in that field would be like trying to obtain a metadata instruction set whose bits were divided between every cloud of servers in every nation in the world."

Tasìa grimaced as she looked down at the field of grass below.

"I'm starting to understand just how utterly outclassed we are."

"And Tasìa? That is just me greatly simplifying the analogy to make it succinct and palpable. Holographic storage doesn't work like bits in an SSD drive.

"If you want to sit down for a good while and keep the buzzards company, I can clarify these matters. That is, if you feel it will help our cause."

Tasìa eyed the birds. They jerked their heads suddenly as they gaggled together. She had just caught them plotting against her.

She lifted her left boot and threatened them with a set of jabs in the air.

I watched too many Sonny Chiba movies when I was a kid to feel threatened by the likes of you dirtbags, was the message she sent.

"Maybe next time when I bring my tea set," Tasia answered. "I'm getting down from this ridge. Could you have Mel fly up the path for me? I spotted something weird just before it empties into the far valley."

Felicité laughed. "I don't mean to gloat, but I am way ahead of you. I sent the nightwing out while you were busy climbing."

Tasìa laughed.

"Hey, Miss Brain, how do you know where I am headed?"

Felicité tutted with intended overemphasis.

"A few simple inductions I gathered from a mere glance at your surrounding terrain. You are headed in the direction from whence the ghosts came. After the field of grass, the path meets up with a graveled one going east and west. You won't be going east because that is the active work zone. You have avoided honest labor your entire life, so scratch that."

Tasìa gasped as if offended. "So mean . . . but, so true."

"I also assume from the excellent layout of the back valley, you are checking it out tonight for the meet-up tomorrow evening. I have the nightwing recording every inch of it as we speak."

Some nation fucked itself out of a most excellent spook when they decided to alienate that girl.

"As for that something weird you mentioned, Tasìa, the only real oddity I spotted were seed bursts that line-up along the path. I looked it up. One species of vine common in El Hoyo engages in nocturnal emissions to spread its seed in preparation for the morning sunlight. Perfectly harmless, and it smells wonderful."

The buzzards let out a yelp directed at Tasìa. In response, she raised her trouser leg, revealing the silvery gleam of her stiletto. They snarled in turn, seemingly not impressed.

"Felicité, I believe the owners of this fine establishment are kicking me out, so I need to get going."

"I'll send over the nightwing's data set when it is complete. Call me back if you need me, Tasìa."

"Will do, Miss Brain."

Felicité giggled in response to Tasìa's last words before she ended the call.

It was all I could do to keep up appearances of keeping up with that girl. Just how much of what she said I'll retain, Tasìa wondered as she began her climb back down.