Microstory 165: Ling Guo

Click here for the list of every Bellevue Profile.

Ling Guo was born in a region of China where a lot of different dialects converged. Even though most of the dialects were mutually unintelligible—that is, a speaker of one will not understand another—Ling was able to understand all of them. Her family was surprised by this, but assumed her to simply be smarter than most people, and that her exposure to the variety at any early age was responsible. And they were right about that, just not to the right degree. When she was about ten years old, a couple of Swedish backpackers came by, clearly in trouble. They were sick and hungry and thirsty. Though these signs were obvious, and her community was able to provide them with help, they were still trying to convey something important and urgent. After only several minutes of hearing them speak, Ling could suddenly get by on the basics of Swedish. They were astonished and grateful to be able to describe to them what the snake that bit one of them looked like. She translated the information to the neighborhood doctor who provided them with the antivenom, and saved their lives. Her parents drove her to the nearest big city the next day. They found a group of Hungarian tourists, and sort of shadowed them for the next hour. By the time the tourists left on their bus, Ling could speak Hungarian fluently. The be-all, end-all of organizations, the Confederacy had strict employment requirements, and so Ling’s parents spent all of their money to get her into a private boarding school so that she could have the best education possible. She was a successful and happy student, and the Confederacy was more than glad to hire her. She ultimately transferred to the world headquarters in Hudson, Usonia to work in the Interpretation and Translation department. Only her supervisor and a few of her coworkers knew about her condition at first, and only a select few of those understood that it was superhuman. But slowly, word spread, and she became the best kept secret of The Confederacy. She met a couple of other anomalies in person; namely Denton and Dathan, but she also stumbled upon evidence of Sandro, Máire, and Seoc. One night, Milo Chombers found himself unwillingly teleported to the Confederacy Building, and ended up introducing her to Bellevue, but she chose to remain at her post for the time being. It was not until Bellevue decided to reveal themselves to the world that she left Hudson so that she could support the new organization with public relations.

Microstory 164: Dathan Shapiro

Click here for the list of every Bellevue Profile.

Dathan Shapiro shared his ability with Hankford Apolomure, though in a much broader sense. His brain was extremely efficient, which allowed him to collect a wide variety of skills, as well as retain episodic memory with 100% accuracy. While his protégé, Denton Wescott could absorb knowledge by simple proximity, Dathan would still have to learn new things the old fashioned way, but he would be able to do it at a far faster rate, and without the neurological side effects. Dathan found himself in the midst of a constant internal struggle, though. On the one hand, he wanted to know as much as he could about the world, but he also felt overwhelmed by his knowledge, and was never able to stop thinking. All of the things the brain does while in sleep mode, he was evolved to do manually throughout the day, but this meant that his body lacked the rejuvenation that sleep also provides. Unlike Jen or Tamra, he would have to gather that missed energy by eating a bit extra and by consciously slowing down activity. As a coping mechanism, he developed a grand sense of superiority and entitlement. He went back to college several times over, and earned licensure degrees in a few different fields. After he was bored with that, he moved on to receive magnatoral degrees, and ended up one of the handful of people to become a supermagnus, which basically meant that no one in the world knew more about a given subject than he did. Still feeling unfulfilled, he went ahead and attended law school for the standard six years, medical school for the standard nine years, and finally pursued a teaching degree for the standard eight years. Just about the only thing he didn’t do was become an aidsman, because he was both a pacifist and rather selfish. Not happy with teaching at any one institution for too long, he decided to become a guest lecturer for anyone who asked. When he was in his 70s, he and Denton joined Bellevue together, but did not work with each other very much. Denton focused primarily in genetics while Dathan worked with Cambrio in general research. When called to action, he participated in Team 8 to provide them with a plethora of useful skills out in the field.

Microstory 163: Hankford Apolomure

Click here for the list of every Bellevue Profile.

While the ancient rogue scientists were long ago experimenting with Generation Alpha anomalies, they came into contact with an ethical opposition. Though there was no official regulation of scientific endeavors, a small faction of moralists took it upon themselves to prevent people from breaking the laws that they felt should have been in place, and were in fact in place at one time. They traveled the globe and either put a stop to those they considered to be criminals, or tried to guide them towards a path of righteousness. Unfortunately for them, the organization ultimately responsible for anomalies was their most powerful opposing force. The regulators knew that they would not be able to stop them, so they built a failsafe device. One of their bravest associates volunteered to undergo a new experiment. Hers was the only anomaly bloodline not technically connected with the others, though they did have to steal the chemicals and technology from the rogues, which meant that the ability they attempted to imbue her with was already in another bloodline. Their intention was to foster all subsequent generations of the original volunteer, but time had other plans. Years later, Hankford Apolomure was activated with a stable version of the ability, but had no knowledge of its history. He was capable of recognizing other people’s abilities, understanding how they worked, and most importantly, dampening them, or even taking them away. But since the regulators had not been able to keep track of his ancestors, he was born with no preconceived notions regarding his purpose, and assumed that he was just like any other anomaly. He ended up pursuing a career in genetics and biochemistry, and contributed to the needs of Bellevue by heading their science department, and his ability was just a bonus. Even though his ability led to an innate understanding of itself, and all of its components, Hankford never once used it to remove someone else’s ability. He considered that a violation of a person’s right to their individuality, even if it meant that they were a danger to society.

Microstory 162: Denton Wescott

Click here for the list of every Bellevue Profile.

Born to park ranger parents in the middle of nowhere New Brunswick, Denton Wescott was a very precocious child, having figured things out long before his peers. He attended a one room schoolhouse and didn’t so much as step one foot in a city until he was eleven years old. He pretty much always knew that he had the ability to passively absorb semantic memory from others. He knew more than he wanted to about the forest, how to teach children, and a little about farming. He was known as a vowel student for having never earned any grade below a U. He was bored at all times. After graduating from tertiary school, he decided to turn down the Tier 1 elite colleges, and instead attend Raiford University. He chose this not only because it was a nice change in scenery, but also because it boasted the highest number of students in North America. The more people he was around, the more knowledge he could absorb from them. Things were going well, as he was finally in a school that included A’s, E’s, and even I’s as grades. Unfortunately, his life took a turn. He was being inundated with all this semantic memory, and none of it could be applied to procedural memory. That is, he could learn in theory what it takes to be a car mechanic, but he would have to be trained the old-fashioned way if he wanted to actually repair a vehicle. As more time passed, things only became worse. He started to lose episodic memories. Events from his early childhood began to disappear from his mind little by little. His brain was only designed to handle so much. By the time he graduated two years later, he could not remember a single thing that had happened to him from his entire life. He didn’t seem to be perturbed by this, but soon found himself struggling to perform simple actions like driving, or even tying his shoes. He was beginning to lose his procedural memory, and if he continued on his path, he would eventually be nothing more than an encyclopedia with a beating heart. He was moved to beautiful Brooks Lake in a remote part of Wyoming. He spent a good portion of his life there until Bellevue was able to treat his condition. They were never able to retrieve his missing memories, but they were able to salvage his procedural memory, and taught him to control his ability. He eventually learned to pause his knowledge absorption, and also delete erroneous knowledge to make room in his brain.

Microstory 161: Rick Rain

Click here for the list of every Bellevue Profile.

Rick Rain was in his college roommate’s brother’s house in Kansas City when a commercial jet airliner fell from the sky and crashed into the neighborhood. He woke up with retrograde amnesia, having absolutely no episodic memory of his life beforehand. He was found on the floor in front of the couch with only a minor head wound, believed to have been caused by the edge of the coffee table. This trauma would not be expected to be detrimental enough to cause brain damage, so medical professionals were not sure why he had no memory. His brain scans appeared to show an abnormal amount of activity, but the science had only recently emerged, and so the results were categorized as inconclusive. He was sent back to his parents in Georgia, but felt uncomfortable there. Though his family felt familiar, they also felt like strangers. After only a few months, he decided that it would be best for him to move away and take some time to develop a new life. He chose to return to Kansas City and begin work as a taksi driver. One night, a group of anomalies from out of the country were desperate to get up to Bellevue, Missouri, but they had no money. The distance was greater than city taksis normally drive, and since Bellevue was not a real city, there would be no hope for a return fare. A pretty girl in the group convinced him to take the fare on the promise that he would receive three times his rate upon arrival, at least. Because of his amnesia, he decided to take her up on it, knowing that every new experience helped define him as a person. Once they arrived, he found himself with an urge to stick around. After incidentally learning about special abilities, he felt that he had nothing to lose. And so he remained in Bellevue as one of the few early non-anomalies, and became an extremely important figure in its history. He formed a romantic relationship with the pretty girl from the original group, as well as close friendships with a number of other members. The mysteries of the plane crash and his unusual amnesia were eventually revealed, and Rick ended up proving to have a few impressive gifts of his own, as well as a background in anomalies.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: April 19, 2043

« < » > Table of Contents

“Towering more than a kilometer in the air,” Harrison explained as he manipulated a holographic image, “the Black Crook Suspended Rehabilitation Facility—nicknamed The Platform—was designed to simulate society, but in a controlled environment. Inmates are referred to as residents and are encouraged to contribute to their little civilization in positive ways in order to prove that they can be safely assimilated back into the real world.”

“Black Crook?” Mateo asked. “That sounds racist...even for Utah.”

Harrison pulled the image up to show the mountain underneath the prison. “Black Crook is the name of the peak on which the facility was constructed.”

Leona was all kinds of professional. “Is it a kilometer above the peak, or a kilometer above sea level?”

“Above the peak,” Harrison answered. “It’s almost four kilometers up.” He continued, “a ten-meter wall that curves inward stretches across the entire perimeter. Assuming a resident could climb to the top of it, he would have nowhere to go. An automated defense system keeps track of all air traffic within two kilometers, and will shoot anything that comes within a kilometer with very little warning.”

“What does it matter? The whole state should be a no-fly zone,” Mateo spat.

“They can’t climb down?” Leona asked.

“The platform extends horizontally beyond the carbon nanotubes that keep it aloft. One would have to defy gravity to move across the bottom of the platform for several meters before reaching anything that would take him vertically. But again, automated defenses. Anything passes beyond the wall is shot without warning.”

“Even if you did get down,” Mateo said, “you’d still be in Utah.”

“How many turrets?”

“Three on each side.”

She expertly operated the hologram and looked for flaws. “Would all the turrets react to an escape? Or just the closest ones?”

Harrison sifted through the data. “For individuals? Just the closest ones. If you try to come in with a large enough aircraft, then all hell breaks loose. What are you thinking?”

“The corners,” she said. “You use one of the corners as your point of egress, and you only have two turrets to contend with. Disable those and you can leave.” She skimmed some of the data regarding the turrets. “Do we have details on these? I need specifications if we’re going to take them out.”

Harrison kind of laughed and shook his head. “No, these are just the main turrets. There’s an entire system along the pillars, and all defenses will interpret a parachute as a small aircraft.”

“What about the center?” Leona was not giving up. “What would the turrets do for a parachute in the center of the platform?”

Harrison looked through more data. “Survey says...it would let you onto the platform, but alert the humans. They care less about you getting in, and more about you getting out. Besides, that’s how the prison resupplies; with airdrops. They let pretty much anything but weapons in. The better the platform resembles a city, the closer they are to reaching their goals.”

“But what would we do once we got there?” Mateo pressed her. “Harrison said that parachutes are big enough to get us shot down. We would probably become prisoners.”

“Residents,” Harrison reminded them.

Leona showed her most evil smile. “We’re going to parachute in.” She shook her head deliberately and dramatically. “But we’re not parachuting out.”

Harrison spent the rest of the day retrieving supplies for them at the behest of Leona. Her plan relied on them doing this at the very end of their night. Meanwhile, she studied the prison layouts, tinkered with the holographic images, and designed a virtual world. She and Mateo then immersed themselves in a crude but effective simulation of their escape plan. They tried multiple routes and tactics, modifying the plan to account for hiccups and obstacles.

When they set out late at night, Harrison came up with a major problem that their simulations could not account for, “humans.”

“What about them?”

“Your plan assumes that Horace Reaver will still be at this facility a year from now. But you are meddling in their affairs this year. That gives them 365 days to move him somewhere else, and they will probably do that, just to be safe.”

Leona considered this. “Then we leave him out of it this year.”

“How do we do that? We need him ready to make the jump,” Mateo pointed out.

“Well, he relives days, right? So he already knows what’s going to happen. We’ll make a ruckus. He’ll know that it’s us, but we’ll be sure to avoid him. Then you, Mateo, will plan on finding him next year and pull him to the egress point. But he’ll already know where it is then too. For once, both our pattern and his give us an advantage that no one else has.”

“Reaver is by far the most powerful man there,” Harrison commented. “Even if you avoid him, they will suspect him.”

“That’s true,” Leona said, having no way around it.

“So we find a pawn,” Mateo piped up. “Find the next guy who might have the resources to pull this off. I’ll grab him and convince him that I’ve been sent to get him out. Come midnight, both he and the authorities will think he’s the one involved.”

“That’s kind of dark, Mateo.”

“This is your plan, Leona. And according to your friend Doug—whatever his name was—we have no choice but to do this.”

She exhaled and relented. “Harrison, pull up a list of inmates, I mean residents, and find me a believable scapegoat.”

Harrison did as he was told, despite his reservations. Then they were at their destination, miles in the air. Mateo oscillated between breathing deeply and breathing erratically. He felt a pit in his stomach. This was not the most dangerous thing he had ever experienced, but it was the only one he was going to do on purpose. What made things worse was why they were attempting it. After all Reaver had done, he was going to get his way once more.

Leona reached over and gave him a hug. “I know you don’t want to do this. I don’t either. And I promise, I’ll explain everything. Those words he said to me in the visitors’ room did mean something. They were a code. And there really isn’t any way for him to know them unless I gave them to him. Some part of me trusts him, and I have to trust that part.”

“I get it. I trust all of your parts.”

“Were I you, I would love me too, Mateo.”

“Were I you,” he repeated.

“Magic hour,” Harrison called back. “Time to make the drop!”

Leona turned around and let Mateo strap her back to his chest, and then she opened the hatch. “I’ll tell you when to pull!”

“Okay!” he yelled. And then they slipped out.

The fall was even scarier than when they shot across the sky from space. He hadn’t realized just how much Mirage had slowed them down that night. Upon his love’s command, he pulled the string and let the parachute loose. As they were drifting to their landing spot, an alarm rang out, but it only lasted a few seconds. It was just to let the few guards know that something was out of place. The two quickly disconnected from each other. Leona was about to run off to her mission, but he seized her and pulled her close so that he could give her one last kiss. “Be careful.”

“You too,” she replied. “Use your map. It’ll tell you where our patsy lives.”

“Let’s call him our pledge.”

“Very well.” She checked her watch and ran off to the platform wall.

Mateo ran the other way to look for a man named Gilbert Boyce. He wasn’t quite as rich as Reaver, but he had his friends on the outside, and it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that someone would stage an escape for him. He was already up and awake from the alarms, and standing on his patio. “Mister Boyce. Time to leave!”

“I’m sorry?”

“I’ve been hired to break you out.”

“By whom?”

“I was not given a name. Just clean cash. Let’s go.” He looked at his watch. “We only have ten minutes to get to the far wall.”

Gilbert made no further arguments, jumping down the steps and managing to run faster than his supposed rescuer. They had to zig and zag and hide behind buildings, so that not too many people noticed them, but enough to get the rumors churning.

About halfway there, they ran into Reaver. “What are you doing?” he asked, clearly still not used to being out of control.

“Now be a good boy,” Mateo said to him in a psychopathic voice. “And we might come for you next year.”

Reaver seemed to get the message, and moved off in another direction.

“Are you really going to break him out too?” Gilbert asked.

Mateo scoffed. “Fat chance. That man ruined my mother’s life. I was just trying to get rid of him,” he lied.

They reached Leona who was carefully staring at her watch. “It’s almost time.” She breathed in and out to prepare herself.”

“Are you sure this is the right spot?”

“The wind wants me here.”

“And you’re sure the turrets will shoot your parachute, and not you?”

“No, not really.”

“Le-exi!” Mateo scolded, just about forgetting to use fake names, but catching himself in time.

Her watch’s alarm went off. “Time to go.” She pulled her string and released the parachute. It violently pulled her up towards the wall. The turrets spun around and began to shoot the parachute, but not before she had gotten as high as she needed to.

Using the oldest trick in the book, Mateo pointed behind them. What’s over there?”

Gilbert fell for it and looked for trouble long enough to give Mateo and Leona a chance to jump into the future. But just before, Leona released her parachute and left it in the past. Now in 2044, she fell down about a meter, and caught herself on the curved wall. Gilbert was gone and Reaver was standing in his place. The first part had worked. Now for the hard part.

« < » > Table of Contents

Crossed Off: Your Funeral (Part XIII)

< > Entire Story

The day after someone dies, their family goes through this death ritual called Familiar Mourning. Those close enough to the family, and close enough geographically speaking, sit around a dimly lit room and hold conversations. In the strictest of traditions, this part of the ceremony must be performed in a temple, or otherwise on holy ground, but modern times had changed things. They were often performed at home, and the majority of morgues had been expanded to include accommodating rooms. Family and friends gather around candles to express their gratitude towards the deceased, and to tell stories of their life in small groups. Quiet was the watchword during these ceremonies. Quiet and darkness.

Starla’s parents and Alec were in attendance at the morgue, of course. But Tristan and Kathleen jumped in the car and raced down so that they could be there too. Denton and his new team were having trouble getting back into the country since they were in the middle of some special research project in Texas. And Sendoa was just swamped with his new job with the man who could clone himself. Tons of people from school she never considered to be her friends showed up. Kind of tacky. And they kept acting like they had experienced some kind of profoundly influential moment with her. Much of what they said about their interactions were simply made up. Starla only listened to the beginnings of their conversations with each other. Knowing now that ghosts were real sent shivers throughout her body. How many of her relatives had she seen move on? What had she said about them while under the impression that these ceremonies were nothing but carryovers from a time of superstition and misinformation. At some point, she gravitated towards Alec who was standing alone in the corner, having no interest in participating. She tried to get his attention, but it was hopeless. She knew of only one person who could see ghosts—though there were probably more. Hopefully Don would carve out some time and scrounge up some money to come stateside for the funeral. She had no way of finding out, for her ability to jump to bodies had been removed from her during her murder.

On the following day, the funeral ceremony is performed, and a wake is often held. These are semi-private occasions, and are late enough after the passing to allow people from out of town to make travel arrangements. In cases of so-called natural deaths, this is when the body is laid to rest. But when the body must remain intact and unchanged in order to support an ongoing investigation, the funeral is skipped altogether, while the wake usually continues as planned. Having honored an obligation to the dark and quiet during Familiar Mourning, the wake is a time for loudness and joy. It’s less of a ritual, and more of a party. Though, the reason the ritual came to be was so that the deceased could move on to the afterlife with—what did the texts say—sunshine in their hearts and harmony in their souls. So the rowdy nature of these get-togethers was not completely unfounded.

Even though Starla’s body could not be displayed on a viewing altar since it was part of evidence, her family decided to go ahead with a funeral, and make an attempt to tone down the level of intensity of the wake. That was more Starla’s style, so she was appreciative of their decision. To her surprise, everyone showed up. Every single one of her confidants had booked tickets from far away lands. All of the people with special abilities were there as well. Those she had met in person like Magnus Shapiro and Therasia Jarvi crossed national borders. Those she had only met while in someone else’s body like Máire and Quang had dropped their busy lives for a few days. Even people she never met at all like Ling and Alonso flew in. René came in with a huge group of strangers, and she never really found out who they were, but she assumed them to have powers. People came with families of their own. Some were there with no obvious connection to anyone who knew Starla.

“I had no idea that she was so popular,” Starla’s mother remarked.

“Her life touched a lot of people, Mrs. Dawkins,” Alec replied. “That international pen pal program she founded grew larger than she thought it would.”

Her mother started tearing up. “I feel like I didn’t even know her.”

Alec wrapped his arm around her shoulders and joined her in a cry. “You knew everything about her.”

“Who did this to her? Who were those men? Did they have something to do with the pen pal network?”

He kissed the top of her head. “I don’t know who they were, but I know they had nothing to do with that.”

Spirit-walker, Spyridon Colonomos waited for Starla to finish eavesdropping before summoning her to a narrow hallway off of the chapel.

“I must say, it’s nice to have someone to talk to.”

“I can imagine. Which is why you can imagine that I always do my very best to stay away from ghosts.”

“Thank you for making an exception.”

“Can you tell me what happened? On the night of your death?”

“I could,” she said. “I won’t.”

“Why not?”

“The men who did this to me are no longer a problem. They’re already in custody. One is chained to a hospital bed, and another to a padded cell. And I’m over it. I’m moving on. There’s an...undeniable feeling of freedom once you die, Mr. Colonomos. You will experience this one day. All those things you thought you cared about stop serving a purpose. And the only things that ever truly mattered were the connection you made to others.”

“You have the opportunity to communicate with the living. Very few people are given this gift.”

She smiled and sort of ignored what he said. “Those connections can’t be broken. My soul can still feel their souls.” She shook her head politely. “I don’t need to speak with them. They can hear me.”

They left it at that.

On the last full day after a death, those closest to the dead are expected to step into their loved one’s shoes by participating in their favorite activity. This could be playing a favorite sport, or eating ice cream, or just reading a good book. For Starla, it was petting feral horses on Cumberland Island. Alec had spent the last couple of days on the phone with the people in charge, requesting an exception to their strict protocols. It took the entire time, but he was able to secure a reservation for a dozen people. Starla’s parents wondered why this would be her favorite thing seeing as that she hadn’t stepped one foot on the island in her entire life. Alec simply said that it was a dream of hers. The three of them enjoyed the tour with Starla’s eight worldwide confidants, who were for the first time breathing the same air as each other. They even got lucky and met a little baby. Starla was thrilled. Alec couldn’t really explain why those eight people were with them, but assured Starla’s parents that they really did qualify for closest loved ones.

At the end of the next day, Starla said goodbye to everyone, even though they could not hear her. The seconds were dropping. She was aware of exactly when her clock was going to run out. Don popped in real quick to see her off. They opened their mouths towards each other a few times, but ultimately exchanged no further words. Death was about as much of an end as anyone gets. There was nothing more to say. Exactly four days to the minute after her death, Starla’s new ghost body collapsed, and she died for a second time. She felt herself being blissfully pulled upwards, though there was no real sense of direction. Colors flew past her one by one until she reached gray, and then she stopped.

A woman she did not know, but who felt painfully familiar to her, greeted her on the other side. “Hello.” She stepped off to reveal a crowd of hundreds, possibly thousands, of people. “Welcome to...The Aggregate.” She looked pretty pleased with herself.

Starla stood for a few moments and watched as the crowd of familiar strangers attempted to greet her and bring her into the fold. But she just smiled at them. She had claimed to Don that she was done with life, but she was wrong. She wasn’t ready yet. Perhaps she never would be. “No, thanks.” She pointed her thumb behind her. “I think I’ll go back.”

“You can’t go back,” the woman argued.

“Yet, I feel like I can, and actually that I should.”

“It is true that you are one of the few of us who does not have to remain her, but there will be consequences.”

“Like what?”

“I do not have that information.”

Despite the warning, Starla left the afterlife and returned home; to her planet, that is...or plane of existence—or whatever it was. The woman had been right about the consequences, but it was more horrific than she could have imagined. All eight of her confidants, along with more than a hundred other innocent people, were killed in a plane crash. Normally, one would not attribute such a thing to a single act of resurrection, but this was different. They had all died on The Day of No Death, which should not have been possible. It really was her fault.

< > Entire Story

Microstory 160: Ahmed Darzi

Click here for the list of every Bellevue Profile.

In the beginning, there was death. Billions of years ago, in the second galaxy, a group of immortals learned just about all there was to know about what happened to a person after death. The mind loses coherence, the body decays, and the soul recedes into a lower dimension. But these people were not satisfied with that answer. They had friends, and didn’t want to lose them. Ever. They wanted immortality for all. And so they engineered an afterlife. They laid out a set of rules, a timeline, and real estate. And from that time on, no one ever really died. Except for a few exceptions. Upon death, a person receives a temporary body that lasts four days. Only the engineers know the reason for the rule, but it is this four day standard time limit that Ahmed Darzi exploits. Though he cannot travel via other dimensions like Jaklyn, Cleveland, or Fiona, he can see and hear inside of them. Rather, he can see two of these dimensions. One of these, commonly known as the indigo world, is where dead people remain “downstairs” for the next four days. It’s a sort of waiting room for the deceased, and it’s the reason post-death ceremonies last for a total of four days.

It is unclear when Ahmed witnessed his first ghost, for they often walk around like normal people, only sometimes exhibiting properties of their ghosthood, such as walking through walls, or failing to interact with the living. The first known case was with his uncle, who died when Ahmed was ten years old. He was frightened of seeing his uncle’s body on the viewing altar, but also standing against the wall. Fortunately, his uncle was sweet and gentle, and chose to help Ahmed come to terms with his newfound ability. Together, they made harmless jokes about their family members at the funeral. The next day, they raced camels, which was his uncle’s favorite activity. And only Ahmed was aware that ghosts really did have the pleasure of participating in the death rituals. After the four days, however, his uncle passed on. He quickly learned that this was an ancient unbreakable rule. He first met members of Bellevue thinking that they were normal ghosts, but they turned out to just be trapped in another dimension. He helped them figure out how to get home, and promised to join them at some time in the future, but felt that he had more work to do on his own. When he finally did arrive in Usonia, he became part of the mental health department with Francis, Baldwin, and Posie. His years of experience consoling the dead had prepared him for giving advice, but only at an uncertified level. After a few months of passing exemption exams, he entered licensure school, and graduated as a grief counselor. He continued to help the dead pass on with ease throughout the rest of his life, but spent the majority of his time helping the living.