Time to get into this one, apparently.
…
Saratoga National Historical Park, State of New York
(Saratoga National Historical Park, State of New York)
3054 AD
Ghosts are worse than dogs, when it comes to waking you up suddenly. You think a cold nose is bad? Try an entire spectral hand. Worse, the specter it’s attached to will know exactly what it feels like to the living, but probably won’t care.
Still, it worked. I went from fitfully unconscious to ten-ten alert in nothing flat, to find… Sergeant Louis, hovering above me. “Sorry, sir,” he intoned. “You’re needed on the Camp Ground.” I reached for my glasses, but Louis had already materialized enough to hand them to me. Which meant that whatever was going on was serious. Ghosts don’t solidify themselves for no reason.
“This a quick matter?” I asked my adjutant-bodyguard as I stamped my feet in my boots. “Or is it a dead one?”
“It’s a dead matter, sir. There’s a problem with a walk-in. Some of the others, well, they’re not real thrilled he showed up. They don’t want him here, and things are starting to get loud.”
