Pan had no idea where Irini and Aria were headed, so she just ran with the intent of finding no dead ends. She knew the factory well enough, or so she thought.

The ghost howled behind her. He had no more words. Even in life, she would be surprised to find him coherent. He was the man who’d lost his mind, sent molten metal off the line and on to everyone else. He was the man who’d started the fire and ensured the factory’s place on Pan’s most haunted locations list.

“What a horrible spirit,” she huffed.

“Today is the day!” he shouted. “No more liquid lines. You can take the heat. You can take my place.”

Pan headed towards two double doors – a dead end. But, she had to enter.

She could see a manufacturing floor inside. Rails surrounded the equipment, and an old forklift peeked around the doorframe. Scorch marks marred the floor, manufacturing lines, and walls. The place was empty and derelict, with plenty of space to dodge an angry spirit. She’d pop in and out.

But, as Pan crossed the threshold, the room came alive. She stopped and stared. Now, she knew where the ghosts spent all their energy.

Warped souls wandered the machinery, and the ceiling filled with red clouds. Sparks flew from the manufacturing lines, and the sound of machines filled the air.

Today was the day. It was the anniversary of the fire.

“Wonderful timing.” Pan covered her ears.

The recreation of the past was loud. Speaking of the past, she might need to send a time message after all. Time message, her most hated power, was her pleasure to avoid.

“Just a bit longer,” she promised herself.

Pan glanced behind her and found that the angry spirit had left off his pursuit. She turned back to the room and studied it.

The ghosts wore anguished expressions. They missed body parts and looked through seeping red eyes. A few men lay on the floor in agony or stood with their hands caught in a machine, screaming. For all Pan knew, this scene had been their normal.

Someone bumped her shoulder. Pan glanced to her side. It was the ghost that had chased her. He sauntered to a piece of machinery and took his place, not at the liquid lines but elsewhere.

“Four Twenty-seven get to your post,” an armless foreman yelled. “We’ve got ten guys down and a deadline.”

“I’m off the liquid lines,” the man shouted back.

“Not today. Get up there!” The armless foreman thrust his body as if pointing up to the liquid lines, but of course, he had no arms to complete the motion.

“It’s too hot. Send someone else.”

“Get up there!”

The crazy ghost finally obeyed. He headed up the catwalks and took his place at the liquid metal line. He started to swing the channel back and forth between conveyors that led to molds. He pulled a lever to open the line each time he made a new connection. Spectral sweat began to pour down his face.

Pan shook her head at the whole scene. It was hot even down below. She couldn’t imagine how hot it was next to the molten metal.

“What’s your number?” The armless foreman stalked her way.

Pan’s mouth drifted open. She faced the foreman and found the spirit’s red, pinprick eyes aimed at her. He meant for her to answer.

Pan knew she should just run. Out of curiosity, she almost didn’t. Then, her self-preservation got the better of her, and she turned. She stopped before she fled.

Where there had been an open doorway, Pan now saw two large, double doors, bolted shut.

They locked their workers in?! Pan faced the ghost. “I don’t work here. I’m an inspector.”

“Oh, you are?” The armless ghost hobbled closer.

“You have a lot of injured men on the line.” Pan nodded at the screaming spirits.

“Yup, ten guys total. They can go to the infirmary when this work gets done.” The armless foreman sneered.

Mother Tree, and I thought the Last Cruise had hard shifts.

“I think you need to shut down the line.” Pan pointed at his arms. “You need to go to the hospital too, and the floor can’t operate without its foreman.”

“What are you talking about? I’m as fit as can be. And, you know what? I don’t believe you’re an inspector.” The ghost leaned close and stretched his torso.

Just Pan’s luck, the man remembered himself as a vibrant, strong individual.

“I can’t work because...I’m a girl,” Pan said.

“Girls are workers too…”

“I’m the owner’s daughter.”

“Nice try. The owner doesn’t have a daughter anymore.” The ghost pointed at a workstation. This time he didn’t thrust his whole body. Instead, his ectoplasm extended and took up the job.

Pan looked closer and saw that a tiny hand grew at the end of the ectoplasm. Even tinier fingers pointed ahead. Death was not supposed to be funny. In her head, Pan repeated the words as a mantra, over and over.

“Stop staring at my shoulder and cover for him!”

Pan stepped back. She had to admit, she had gotten so close it was almost rude. Now, with her eyes, she followed the tiny finger. It pointed at a man lying on his back, a huge hole in his stomach and chest. He lay beside the liquid lines.

The crazy ghost moved the line back and forth, over the fallen man.

Pan put her hand over her mouth. “I can’t work with him. He…uh…he sexually harasses people,” Pan lied.

“I don’t care if he fucks you on the line, as long as the work gets done. Go!” The foreman’s mouth stretched wider than it should.

Pan slowly headed for the catwalk. In her head, she composed a time message and determined where she should send it. To which Pan? The one that recently got caught by Aria and Irini? The one that was about the enter the factory? The one that was about to leave for mischief aboard the tug?

With a heavy step, Pan plodded to her workstation. The whole factory stopped. The crazy man grinned.

“Today’s the day,” he said.

Pan frowned and stopped.

It was not the day, and they would soon find out. Pan prepared to send the time message, when everyone surged forward.

Grubby hands grabbed and pushed her up. Burnt fingers pulled at her clothes. Voices screamed in her ears and in her head. Pan grabbed the rail and hung on, but the men pried her free. She tried to shout over them but couldn’t make her voice loud enough. She couldn’t make her thoughts loud enough. The men picked her up and carried her up the walk, all shouting.

They dropped her by the crazy man. His eyes popped into his head, and he focused on her.

Pan shouted at him, something about letting her go. She tried to make the time message, but other words kept intruding, forcing her to start over.

The crazy man reached his fingers into Pan’s open mouth and tried to pry it open more. Pan jerked away and firmly closed her mouth. He tried again, but she kept her mouth shut. He grabbed her legs and tried to pry those open. Seemed he would just find another hole.

Pan struggled to get free and to send the message, but so much of it ended up garbled. She tried to tell past Pan not to come here again, but come here again kept repeating louder. Pan couldn’t take the risk and send that.

The men pushed her down. They held her shoulders, and they worked on her legs. Pan wasn’t sure why they wanted in so bad, but memories of possessed individuals kept flashing through her mind.

Before they could pry her open another inch, a bang disturbed the room, and a flash of white light took her vision. Pan closed her eyes, felt suddenly free, and rolled to her side. She hit the rail of the platform and slipped through. Pan let out a cry and tried to catch herself with telekinesis.

The room went quiet, and Pan opened her eyes. She saw a deserted and dilapidated factory. And, hovering right above her face, she saw Brynn.

“What in the hell are you doing?” Brynn asked. “I thought you were an experienced ghost seer and yet…” Brynn gestured at the space around them.

Slowly, Pan got to her knees. “That was bad,” she agreed in a whisper.

“You could have gotten possessed. He could have waltzed out of here instead of you.” Brynn shook her head. “And, if not possessed, he could have tethered to you, and then it would be the three of us, Pan. I don’t know about you, but I feel just us two is too much.”

“Did you find help?” Pan asked, hoping someone would just fix the tug for her while she curled up in a ball and took a day to forget the incident.

“I couldn’t find anyone to help you. Everyone is on high alert for a lone Scaldin female. They’re all looking for the reaper. Apparently, they think you killed a lot of someones on Tingaran Station.” Brynn crossed her arms. “I know I didn’t get you information for that job, but then again, you might have learned.”

Pan shook her head. “It wasn’t me.” She put a shaky hand on a rail and rose.

“I’d help you up, but I can’t wish myself solid.” Brynn watched Pan. “Wasn’t you?”

Pan shook her head. “Was it you?”

Brynn laughed. “I can’t destroy Soffigen property on my own. I’m dead.”

“Right.” Pan heard some degree of suspicion in her own voice.

Brynn floated to Pan’s side. “When I found out I couldn’t get help, I rushed back. I didn’t want to leave you hanging. I was planning on holding your hand as you entered the afterlife, short of breath.”

Pan raised her eyebrows. “I wasn’t there.”

“No. This was our nearest rendezvous, so I came here. And, here I find you, in dire need of a rescue.”

Pan nodded. “I guess I really owe you. You’ll have my life in your hands for eternity.” Pan looked at the ground as she said it.

Brynn waved her off. “No. I did it for me. If anyone is going to lay claim to your soul, it’s going to be me, and I’m going to do it in a way that we can still have our wonderful conversations.”

Pan didn’t know what to say. She opened her mouth. Did Brynn just admit to a nefarious plot?

Brynn smiled. “Here come your other rescuers now.”