The Beacon, it turned out, was a dusty red cylinder the size of a two-liter bottle of soda. It didn't glow ominously or emit demonic voices or anything fun like that. But it had the power to open doors between worlds.

"I'll help you," Gary said through the Radio. "Often your low-quality brain gets in the way of wisdom."

"Thanks, man. Do you remember what you told me when we first met? You wanted to go home, back to the World-of-Trees. Maybe we can do that."

Gary rotated in place. His limbs folded beneath his balloon body. His many stumpy fingers twiddled. I was pretty sure the gestures meant deep thought.

"I'd much rather send YOU away from HERE, you and all your unclean Humans."

"Really. Instead of going home yourselves?"

"This is our home and you are a fool."

"Since when do you prefer this to–"

"Sup," said Sean, standing in the entrance to the Observatory dome. "I think I need help."

He was standing unsteadily, leaning against the wall with one hand. He looked pale and shocked. He was usually self-consciously robust, strutting and hearty. Not today.

"Dude," I said by way of greeting. I unfolded one of the Biped Chairs made for Humans and Cazadores. He collapsed into it, and the chair creaked in alarm but held him. "Tell me what's happening."

"Soul issue." He swallowed, looking pained and nervous. Sean didn't like that he was here asking for aid. Sean never wanted to be helped. "I'm sorry to bother you."

"No bother, dummy, tell me."

"I have a soul. I have a–a spare one too."

"Right." Sean actually had two souls, technically. One was just free-range. Sean the Human and Sean the Ghost were the names we'd chosen. I hadn't talked to Ghost for a while, come to think of it.

"So we combined them," he said shakily.

"Good lord, why?"

"I'm tired of being this," he said. "I wanted more. I…I'm useless and cruel and I can't stop." He wasn't looking at me. He was staring into his palms. "Ghost wasn't like that. So we teamed up. I think it's permanent. And…I feel funny, man."

I looked at him with my Bonus Content vision, and there it was: Sean's new soul.

I'd been expecting a muddled mess. It wasn't that at all. It blazed with glowing good health. A perfect shining sphere in a more-than-purple color. It seemed…ripe. Ready to be picked.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

"I've never seen this," I said. "Gary, what do you think?"

"I hate Sean."

"You hate everyone. Radio, what can you tell me here?"

"Sean was undergoing a new experience for Humans. While the Radio had observed similar conditions, this was unique. And now, Bing Crosby."

It began a song. Sean and I listened carefully, since the Radio was trying to tell us something.

Would you like to swing on a star

Carry moonbeams home in a jar

And be better off than you are

"What are you saying, Radio?"

"Don't mourn him."

Oh shit. Sean, oddly, didn't look alarmed. He looked…what was that on his face? I'd never seen it there.

Relief.

"Never asked to be this way," he said. "Never wanted it." He looked at me. "You…you did your best. I'm sorry I killed you so many times."

"I'm sorry too. I'd take it back if I could."

We gazed solemnly at one another, then started chuckling. What else could you do?

I jumped up and ran for yesterday's escape pod, popped the thing open next to its discarded parachute. It was a ball full of cheap-looking communication devices. You press a button, your voice goes in, someone on Harrigan's team answers.

"I need to talk to the boss," I said into it.

"Is this…Walsh?" The voice was familiar. "Is this Owen Walsh talking to me?"

"Yeah. Grayson? How are you, man?"

"Been better." He sounded like he was gritting his teeth.

"I need to talk to Doctor Harrigan. Emergency. It's his son."

"Why should I–"

"Harrigan," said the Doctor himself. "What is this?"

"I know you and I hate one another, and that these communication thingies are supposed to sow discord and division among the people here. But you need to talk to Sean."

"Put him on." Just like that. No malice, no taunting from Doctor Jeff today.

I handed Sean the little device. He gave me a look; I nodded and left. Gary went along, making it look like he had business out here, buzzing into the forest.

"Dad?" Sean said as I was walking out.

I waited outside. I gave it ten minutes before I checked again. Sean was gone. The communicator was sitting silently on the biped chair.

Just gone.

Was it time? Already?

I had to see. I had to, with my own eyes. So I got into Little Boat alone.

The Obsidian Chorus was bright green grass and shiny black statues, an island of them. With the Radio's guidance, I found him.

A single monument. Sean the Human, fists on his hips, head thrown back in a laugh. I'd never seen him do that when he was alive. His statue was life-sized, making it a decent memorial. He looked … heroic in his cargo shorts and t-shirt.

"It just showed up today." I wasn't alone here.

I turned. It was the guy with the punch, the one I'd pried out of Taco Bell. He looked rough: tired, dirty, not interested in beating me up.

"Hey, there you are." I offered my hand, which he wearily shook. "Want something to eat?"

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.