CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

LIGHT OF THE LANTERN

***

Smoke hung heavy in the air of the bar as patrons passed to and fro in the gloom.
A tune of alien origin drifted out of a far corner where a sultry band were trying to keep a
steady beat. A hard task with so many drugs in their systems.
The air stank of ale, the floor stank of neglect and the patrons stank of worse. This
was the kind of seedy bar where people died on a nightly basis, and the only disruption
this caused was that people would have to step over the body to get where they were
going. It was not a nice place.
The décor was an elaborate attempt to reconstruct a 1950’s American Diner, or
biker bar, the owner was never sure which one was best, finally opting for a mixture of
both. Now it looked like somebody had let off a funk bomb in a shed.
Ernie the barman looked up through his mass of curly brown hair and regarded
his latest customer through his one remaining eye. He tapped the plastic fingers of his
prosthetic hand on the counter and gave the implement a sneer of disdain. It was a
human prosthetic limb. Ernie looked nothing like a human, it was embarrassing. He ran
the first of his three left arms down his greasy face and grunted impatiently at the man
who had been sitting at the bar without ordering for some time now, simply scanning the
room.
The bar wasn’t large, but the smoke and the sheer number of occupants meant
that trying to pick anybody out of the crowd was near impossible, especially if they didn’t
want to be found.
‘Hey, dude,’ Ernie said gruffly to the man in the thick coat. ‘What’ll it be?’
The man finally looked up at Ernie and nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders. ‘I
don’t quite know,’ he said, drumming his fingers on the bar top. ‘I can imagine that if I
should be unfortunate enough to obtain anything I order here, what it’ll be is most likely
a long lesson in food poisoning and heart burn.’
Ernie was about to launch into a tirade about how such thinking was absurd,
about how he had never heard such defamation of his establishment before, about how
such remarks were not welcome in his humble ale house. He stopped himself because
the remarks were not only fair, they were absolutely true.
Of the people that were guaranteed to die here tonight, only about nine per-cent of
them would die due to assassinations or fighting. The rest would probably drink
something tainted and kick the bucket before they knew what had happened to them.
Ernie served a wide range of drinks, meant for hundreds of millions of different
species across the galaxy. This naturally meant that a lot of the drinks would most likely
be harmful to species for which they were not designed. And drunken people did like to
experiment with their alcohol. He had lost count at the number of people who had come
in thinking that they would play up to their friends and order from Ernie’s Board-Of-
Death. It wasn’t just a clever name, meant to entice people into risking it; people really
would die if they ordered those drinks. If they were lucky. The unlucky ones would
probably spend the remainder of their lives in an intensive care unit. Ernie only avoided
prosecution because each transaction over the bar required the customer to sign a waver
absolving Ernie of all responsibility.
‘So,’ Ernie yawned. ‘If you’re not here for the booze, and you’re certainly not here for the
ambience.’
‘I could be here for the ambience,’ the customer shrugged.
Ernie looked the man over and frowned. ‘You’re not here for the ambiance,’ Ernie
said wryly. ‘There’s better ambience in the plague unit of the hospital. No, I’m willing to
bet large money on the fact that you’re looking for somebody.’
‘That may possibly be the case,’ the man replied.
‘And it may possibly be the case that I may, throughout the course of my evening, have
possibly seen and or spoken to the hypothetical person that you may or may not possibly
be attempting to locate for whatever means you may be possibly considering.’
The man smiled. ‘You say that a lot, don’t you?’
‘Less than you’d expect,’ Ernie shrugged. ‘So, might a humble barkeep be of assistance to
a patron seeking assistance.’
The man nodded slightly. ‘Only if that very same barkeep might have chanced to
spy a gentleman with ginger hair, dressed in black, about my own height, looking
thoroughly depressed, and most likely wearing yellow converse sneakers.’
Ernie folded four of his arms and allowed the prosthetic arm to fall limply over the
stump where his middle right arm had been. ‘Suppose, I had seen this gentleman and
you were to go and conduct your business with him. It may transpire that I loose custom
due to the activities you might engage in.’
‘I’m not here to hurt him.’
‘Sure you’re not … just like the guy last week who said the very same thing and then
went and decapitated his missus’ new boyfriend in my bathroom.’
The customer humphed and threw a Ninety-credit note down on the counter.
Ernie eyed it suspiciously, that was a rather large bribe. But Ernie had never been one to
look a gift horse in the mouth.
‘Back room,’ Ernie said quietly, averting his gaze. ‘Behind the pool table, far corner.’
The man nodded his thanks and made his way through the squalid rabble to the
back room that was, thankfully, for the most part, deserted. He picked his way past an
Egadnobian who was busy holding a Tith up against the wall, demanding payment for
something or another. He scooted past a gang of ‘E’th-zel’h*as* who were busy trying to
beat each other’s high scores at one of the arcade machines that had no doubt been
stolen from somewhere. Wherever it had come from, it was not by legal means. The man
made a mental note to return to this establishment on the Kalgoorlie space station very
soon and have a good look around the place before he decided exactly which of the
several thousand charges to bring the owner up on first.
However, this wasn’t why he was presently here, but as he loomed through the
smoke, he saw the reason why he was here. He slid into the seat on the opposite side of
the booth and removed his hat, setting it on the table and glaring at the booth’s occupant
with his piercing green eyes. The occupant merely looked back morosely and drank down
the rest of the bottle in front of him, sliding it aside where it clanked together with
several others of various kinds.
‘My god, Shane,’ Kyle said reproachfully, shaking his head as he regarded his colleague.
‘What the hell have you done to yourself?’

***

‘So, you’re not going to even tell me a little bit about yourself?’ Will-ko persisted as he
and Skelifish stalked down a black walkway lined with the fluorescent blue walls. From
time to time, they would pass by small illuminated orbs suspend in mid air by no means
that Will-ko could determine, other than magic, or some kind of science. Will-ko leaned
more towards the magic option; it seemed to have more charm that way.
‘I’d rather keep the talking to a minimum,’ Skelifish grumbled. ‘I’m trying to remember
the way.’
Will-ko sighed. ‘Are you tired yet?’
‘I don’t get tired,’ Skelifish replied gruffly.
‘I’m really tired,’ Will-ko complained.
‘I’m not,’ Skelifish snapped.
‘My feet hurt.’
‘Take a rest.’
‘Can we?’
‘You can, I’m going on,’ Skelifish said determidly. ‘People don’t stop to rest in this place.
You may as well put your head in a noose; make it even easier for them to get you.’
‘For who to get me?’ Will-ko frowned. ‘You’re the only person I’ve seen in this dimension,
and we’ve been walking for hours.’
‘That’s because they don’t want you to see them,’ Skelifish replied testily. ‘I can sense
them. They’re watching us; they have been for some time.’
‘Seriously?’
‘They could be.’
‘Well, are they or aren’t they?’ Will-ko asked, exasperated.
‘Does it matter either way?’ Skelifish humphed. ‘They’re all around this dimension, they
could very well be surrounding us right now, and whether or not they’re paying us any
attention is beyond the point. If we stop, they’ll come to investigate. If they catch us, we
die. Simple story.’
‘Right …’ Will-ko nodded decisively. ‘But you still haven’t told me who they are.’
‘I can’t tell you what they are,’ Skelifish said, harassed. ‘If I knew what they were, I would
tell you. I’ve never seen one, but I know they’re there because I can sense them. I can
sense the death that clings to them as they drift about this place. I can feel the chill they
leave behind them as they do whatever it is they do all day. So, believe me when I tell
you, as a Reaper. As a collector of souls bound for the afterlife, I’m telling you that
they’re dangerous and we should do all that we can to avoid them!’
‘Okay,’ Will-ko said, wrinkling his nose. ‘Though I bet raising your voice like that is a
sure-fire way to get anything’s attention.’
Skelifish narrowed his eyes and glowered at his human accomplice. He rolled his
shoulders and grumbled the rudest words he could conjure under his breath. ‘Then we’d
better move faster then, hadn’t we?’
Will-ko gave a moan and paced off in Skelifish’s wake, mentally kicking himself for
continually harassing the only person in this dimension who was willing to help him.
Under duress, but it was still effectively help. His feet were killing him. Literally killing
him. He had grown up in a lab and undergone torturous experimentation. But this was
worse than that. He’d never been continually exposed to pain for so long a time. Pretty
soon, he knew that he would absolutely have to stop and sit down.
He’d deal with the consequences of that if and when they happened.
It was really too bad that they were going to happen no matter what the pair of
them did.

***

Shane looked up and smiled. It was a smile that sent pangs of anger seething
through Kyle Rayner. It really shouldn’t. It wasn’t in his nature to be angry, just like it
wasn’t in a toaster’s nature to make the bread colder. It was practically the opposite of its
nature. But that smile could invert Kyle’s entire belief system and make him want to
throttle the man sat opposite him.
‘Whaddayouwant?’ Shane burped. ‘I tol’ yous … Am q-q-uittin’ and thus … ther’s not one
… … … single … thing that youu or nobody else is gonna … … to say
that’sgonnastopme!’ Shane’s head fell drunkenly to one side and dribbled on his
shoulder.
‘By the power of Greyskull,’ Kyle tisked under his breath irritably. ‘You don’t deserve to
be in the Lantern Corps, Shane.’
‘I don’ deserve the shits either, but ‘ave gorrum!’ Shane belched back.
‘How much have you had to drink?’ Kyle asked with what was left of his patience. ‘If the
Guardians see you like this, or any one else from the Corps, they’ll throw you out!’
Shane pulled his head upright and made a “Dur” expression. ‘GOOD!’ He
bellowed. ‘I WANT TO BE KICKED OUT!’
‘No you don’t,’ Kyle frowned. ‘You’re upset and you’re drunk.’
‘Damn right! Dam right! AM UPSET!’ Shane replied angrily, slamming his hand on the
table, clenching the green power ring in his fist. ‘I’ve got to be, the weakest of all the
Lanturn Corps, man!’ Shane said, sniffing. ‘I jus- just don’t work right! Not evenhalf
thestrength that youhavemate!’ He slurred violently. ‘It taskesh the pish!’
‘I think I’d better get you home,’ Kyle said, shaking his head. ‘You’re neither use nor
ornament in this kind of state.’
‘Leave me alone!’ Shane said, flailing his arms at Kyle and grabbing at his discarded
bottled, upending them into his mouth in the hopes that one of hem still had alcohol in
it.
‘Now you’re just making a scene,’ Kyle said in a warning tone.
‘I like making a schene!’ Shane thundered. ‘And not yous or nobody but me’s going to
stop me!’
Kyle frowned. ‘Do you even know what you’re saying any more?’
‘Hardly!’ Shane replied, leaning back against his padded seat. ‘An’ a’ don’t feel too good
neither.’
‘What a fine example of The Lantern Corps you make, Shane,’ Kyle tutted, helping Shane
to his feet and guiding him towards the door.
‘I know,’ Shane said deliriously as he picked a bottle off a table as they passed through
the smoke-filled room. ‘A should getamedal!’
‘OI!’
Kyle looked over his shoulder at the rather large Ulmon creature glaring up at the
pair from a tiny seat around a tiny table that made the behemoth look so ridiculous that
Kyle had to suppress as smile. It looked even more hilarious since there were three of
them trying to have a casual drink around a table that a small human child would look
drastically oversized to sit at.
The giant leader rose up to his full height. Or as much of his full height as he
could achieve indoors. He still managed to tower over the pair as he fixed one of his large
red eyes upon them. The white skin of his face contracted into a glare as he glowered at
them. ‘YOU IS LANTURNS!’ He shouted in his thick drawl, and then punched the palm of
his right hand with the fist of his left. ‘WE NOT LIKE LANTURNS!’ He roared.
‘Oh, pisch off!’ Shane burped, gesturing at the massive Ulmon wildly. ‘Why not … why-
not … whynot just FUCK OFF! Fuck off back to under the … under the shitcovered rock
that yooou climed out from … from under! You bastard!’
The Leader of the Ulmons raised an eyebrow. ‘BEFORE … ULMONS BREAK ALL
YOU BONES! AFTER INSULT … ULMONS BREAK ALL YOU BONES!’
‘What’s the difference?’ Kyle asked, only out of sheer curiosity.
The Ulmon raised its other eyebrow and considered the point briefly, bringing a
large, hulking finger up to its black lips.
‘UHM …’ it said, looking at its fellows for guidance, who simply stared back with the
same blank expressions that they had been wearing throughout the altercation. The
leader sniffed and turned back to Kyle and Shane, grinning all four rows of teeth. ‘NOW,
ULMONS BREAK ALL YOU BONES! TWICE!’
‘I see,’ Kyle nodded, setting Shane down in a chair and laying down his black coat,
revealing his Lantern Corps uniform in all its glory.
The Ulmon swept him aside with little more than a flick of his massive wrist and
sent Kyle careening into the pool table. The other Ulmons were on their huge feet now too
and – taking out large club-like weapons – they advanced upon Kyle, step by thunderous
step. The leader opened his mouths, revealed his fangs and emitted a battle cry of
triumph, a cry that was cut short as a gigantic wall of green energy slammed into the
gang and punched them through the far wall of the bar, out onto the street of the space
station outside.
Kyle looked at his own power ring in confusion. He hadn’t summoned up the
power to create the wall. He could feel it’s after effects crackling through the atmosphere
of the bar. It had been a surge of immense power. A power that, Kyle could tell was
mineralised by such a small area. It had massive potential, and it had come from Shane.
The drunk was gawping at his own hand in disbelief, that lopsided smile creeping
back onto his face as he leaned against a table, a look of utter contentment filling his
features. ‘I reckon ‘ave gottenover ma rut,’ he declared joyfully.

***
 Will-ko had ignored the three sudden icy chills that had run down his spine. The
fourth, and largest of them all, was harder to ignore. Skelifish’s warnings had given him
reason to be fearful of this strange dimension, but Will-ko normally kept a cool mind
about things that went bump in the night. They weren’t things that particularly bothered
him.
The shadows of this place were playing tricks with his eyes and he wasn’t about to
allow himself to panic. Panic was never useful in a crisis situation, not that this was a
crisis situation, of course. But the fifth, bone-chilling shudder that ran through him was
enough to alert him to the possibility that there could be something to be wary of. Then
he saw exactly what it was he should be wary of. The worst thing about it was, that it
saw him too.
Will-ko had never put too much stock in the supernatural. It was silly considering
that he had been, for the longest time, able to do magic. Magic of astounding capacity.
But still, ideas about ghosts and mythical creatures and all that rubbish had still always
seemed silly to him, regardless of everything else.
He would have to rethink those ideals. He would have to rethink and reassess his
whole position rather quickly, because about fifty yards ahead of them, a figure had
appeared. It was a figure of such horrific appearance that Will-ko had trouble looking at
it. From what he could tell, it was a ghost, it was practically see-through. The ghost of an
elderly, sad-looking woman. Its face was contorted into a grotesque, soundless scream.
Its black eyes sunk so far into their sockets that they were almost hidden completely by
the pale, watery skin. It floated a few inches off the floor and stared at the pair, rasping
an ungodly breath as it hung motionlessly, piercing them with its malevolent stare. Its
pale, tattered clothing hung from it in shreds as it began to move, ever so slowly towards
them.
‘Is this what you were talking about?’ Will-ko asked in a hushed voice.
‘Not quite what I was expecting,’ Skelifish replied. ‘But this is what I was sensing. No
wonder I could sense death everywhere, if they’re ghosts.’
‘Uhm,’ Will-ko said, biting his lip. ‘I think we may have a problem.’
‘Another one?’ Skelifish asked testily, chancing a glance behind him to see a mass hoard
of the creatures advancing upon them from behind. The rasp of their non-existent breath
on the air as they growled and wheezed their way forwards, grizzled, semi-corporeal arms
outstretched.
‘Are they ghosts?’ Will-ko spluttered. ‘I mean, like proper ghosts?’
‘I have no idea what they are,’ Skelifish growled, brandishing his scythe. ‘Lost souls I
could deal with, but these are something more … something worse.’
‘But you can still take care of them?’ Will-ko asked hopefully. ‘Right?’
Skelifish tightened the grip on his scythe and bared his teeth.
‘Right?’ Will-ko hissed anxiously.

***

‘You conduct thus far has been unacceptably inconsistent,’ Appa said testily as he leafed
through the records before him. His voice echoed around the Central Meeting Hall of Oa,
the home of Guardians of the Universe. ‘Until this incident, your ability to wield the
power of the sacred ring has been minimal at best. The fact that you have discovered a
singular niche for yourself through the medium of alcohol to extend what little power you
have is reprehensible. How you can stand here and ask me to assign you your own sector
to protect is completely out of the question.
‘The Lantern Corps are a respected institution in the Universe and I’m certain that
an alcohol fuelled Green Lantern will bring our organisation nothing but shame and
degradation! The sheer audacity with which you appear here, in this manner offends me
to the point of nausea!’
‘… So, … that’s a no then is it?’ Shane asked unsurely.
‘Of course it’s a no!’ Appa retorted. The diminutive Guardian of the Universe said as he
floated atop his pedestal, giving a meaningful glance to the other Guardians who stood
silently around the hall. He stroked the white hair of his beard and wiped a blue hand
down his face, assessing the situation as best he could in the current circumstances.
‘We cannot place you into a Sector where it will fall to you to protect the innocent. If your
powers are only at their strength while you are intoxicated, this will put both you and
your charges in even greater danger than they already may be in.’
Shane’s head dropped. ‘Is there nowhere then that I could patrol? Nowhere at all?’
‘Nowhere even remotely close to Sector 2814,’ Appa replied curtly. ‘Your application to
become one of the active Lanterns in the area around Sol Three must be denied. I cannot
see anybody wanting the aid of a drunkard.’
‘Well,’ Shane moved uncomfortably. ‘What about people that are so desperate they’ll take
anybody’s help? I mean, there’s got to be somewhere out in the Universe where a
drunkard would be the best thing that’s ever happened to it.’
There was a muffled cough from Appa’s right hand side as Ganthet raised himself
up to his full height and exchanged a glance with Appa.
Shane couldn’t hear their telepathic communication, but from the way their facial
expressions were contorting, the pair were having what seemed to be a heated argument.
‘Alright,’ Appa said finally, with a sigh, looking down at Shane in the centre of the arena.
‘Ganthet has brought an interesting option to light. Though I may not agree with it … it
may very well be your only option of retaining your position as a member of the Lantern
Corps.’
‘I’ll take it!’ Shane said quickly. ‘Whatever it is, wherever it is! I’ll take it! I’ve finally found
out how to use my powers and I can’t loose them now.’
‘You will need a new name,’ Ganthet said croakily. ‘By now, word will have spread of the
powerless Lantern.’
‘I’ll change it,’ Shane said definitely.
‘Do not be so quick to accept that which you know nothing of,’ Appa said darkly. ‘You
may end up biting off more than you can chew.’
Shane frowned and patted his lip. ‘Well … where is this place then? What kind of
planet are we talking about?’

***

‘You’re not answering me,’ Will-ko said testily.

‘That’s because I really don’t know the answer,’ Skelifish said, giving a few warning sings
with his scythe at the creatures are they continued their advance.
Their mouths open in their silent screams, their clothing and deranged-looking
hair trailing along in their almost-transparent wake. Skelifish pointed his scythe at them
and glowered angrily. Apparently, they were not dissuaded by his weapon.
The ghosts hissed and whispered as they floated closer, closer, their gnarled
hands reaching out to grab hold of the pair who gathered themselves closer together in
the centre as the monsters seemed to flood from every side.
Will-ko outstretched a hand, willing his magic to return, any magic, anything at
all. If he could produce a rubber duck he would be happy. It would do no good but it
would prove that he was able to do something. He could always throw the duck at them if
it came to that.
Skelifish was lashing out wildly now. The creatures were only a few feet away and
they seemed to have no interest in the fact that he was carving the air with a giant blade
merely inches from them. It didn’t seem to concern them in the slightest which meant
that they were either too stupid to realize, too reckless to care, or it could also be that
they knew it couldn’t hurt them, which would be infinitely worse.
The old lady ghost that Will-ko had seen first floated gently, like a leaf, a hideous,
twisted, hissing leaf with fiery eyes that danced as she rolled her head and dived at Will-
ko, her mouth agape in wordless rage. Will-ko winced, trying to loose himself in the folds
of Skelifish’s robes, when the ghost bounced off a wall of thick green light that had
suddenly appeared out of nowhere.
‘In brightest day!’ An Irish voice came from somewhere. ‘In blackest night! No evil shall
escape my sight!’
 Will-ko followed the light to its source and saw that it was coming from a man’s
hand. No, it was coming from a ring on a man’s hand. A man dressed in a black and
green uniform who was casually floating several feet above their heads, his eyes ablaze
with green light.
‘Let those who worship evil’s might,’ the ginger-haired man continue. ‘Beware my power
… Green Lantern’s light!’ He thundered, the green energy barrier he had created pulsed
rapidly, sending the creatures screaming silently back into the shadows they had
emerged from. The floating man nodded in approval, took out a large can of Guinness
and downed it in one, burping appreciatively and patting his stomach before he gently
floated down to the ground and regarded the pair. ‘It seems you’ve come to the wrong
neighbourhood,’ he remarked. ‘So, what brings a Reaper and a human to the Forbidden
Zone?’
‘Who in the name of all that’s unholy are you?’ Skelifish grimaced.
The Green Lantern soldier smiled toothily. ‘Guy Garner,’ he grinned. ‘At your
service.’