Welcome to RustyLand!!
Updated 8/24/99

It began with the word and the word was can.

Eddie barely noticed the word as he continued typing instructions to update his startup-sequence. He finished the line and hit the RETURN key. Within one hundredth of a second the computer replied with the line Unknown Command Can You. Eddie stared at the screen for a moment, and then began retyping the line.

It was very stupid for Eddie not to realize that the You was not in the previous line, but he did not seem to take notice of its inclusion, and went about his work as though nothing extraordinary were occurring.

Eddie finished typing the command again and the computer whirred away as it updated his file. While it was doing this, he stretched back in his chair, leaning all the way over to his dresser located directly behind him, and turned off the stereo. He yawned, and leaned forward to turn off the machine for the night when he saw the line Can You Read T on the screen.

Eddie's computer, the Eddie IV, was prone to errors, especially when he worked on it for more than five hours in a row. In trying to build his IBM clone, he had been unable to scrape together enough money for a good cooling system. But an error that sporadically formed itself into a word was rare, and three words in a row rarer. Eddie idly began calculating the chances of this occurring, but unfortunately, he was never very good at math and frequently lost track of numbers over twenty billion. Eddie was just reaching this limit when he noticed that the line had completed itself with his.

Can You Read This? he thought. "Yes," he said. Then he typed Yes. I can read this. He watched the screen for a moment, and when nothing happened, turned off the computer. He watched the screen go dark, counted five seconds to himself, then turned it on again. He placed his virus catcher disk into the drive and waited for it to load up.

"That's the last time I copy disks from Bill," he said out loud. Eddie looked over his shoulder to digital clock behind him. Its stark red L.E.D.s proclaimed the time as 3:30 a.m. Right on time, he thought. As good a time as any to start on a project. He typically started his work around this time, as much a function of necessity as choice. By this time there was little electrical use in the area, and the lines were less incline to spark, which would cause the computer to burp and reboot. Eddie ran his hands through his recently cut hair, removed his glasses, rubbed his eyes, and set to work finding the virus.

Eddie searched through the disks he had been working on previously, idly looking to find a sector with the words Can You Read This? written on it. The source of the virus was well hidden, and Eddie could not find the source of the mysterious message. After having searched through the disk twice, he quit the program, removed the disk from the drive, put it in the holder inside his desk, turned to turn off the computer, and saw the word Hello sitting next to the command prompt.

Eddie decided to play with it, so he typed Hello right back at it. He sat watching the screen, and slowly the letters N, I, C, E formed. After about a minute, the phrase Nice To Meet You was completed. After this was finished, the prompt advanced a line and typed Who Are You?, this time much quicker than before.

Eddie typed My Name Is Eddie. What's Yours?

The virus replied Steven Thompson.

Eddie typed Glad To Meet You Steve. Nice Virus.

Thanks, But This Is Not A Virus. I Am Steven Thompson. The Horror Writer.

Eddie responded with Sorry, But Steven Thompson The Horror Writer Is Dead.

You Are Absolutely Correct, However, I AM Steven Thompson. The Ghost If You Will.

Eddie sat back in his chair, staring at the screen. He glanced at the top of his screen to see the amount of available memory. It read 212K. Everything seemed to be all right. Eddie typed If You Are Thompson, Explain Why You Killed Off Gregory At The End Of Vampire Slaves.

I Didn't Kill Gregory Off. And By The Way, You Don't Need To Type. As A Ghost, I Can Hear You Just Fine, But I Can Only Respond By This Computer.

Eddie looked wide eyed and open mouthed, looking at his computer. There was no audio input device, and there was nothing on the computer that could take the place of one. Eddie said "Why was Nixon impeached?"

He Wasn't Impeached, He Resigned To Avoid Being Impeached. Don't You Know Your History?

Eddie stood up, and backed up until he bumped into his dresser. "You're not a program, you're a ghost, aren't you?"

The Secret's Out. Of Course I'm A Ghost. I Was Beginning To Wonder If You Were Going To Ask Me What The Sound Of One Hand Clapping Is.

"But how are you on my computer? And why me?"

The Only Way I Can Contact The Material World Is Through Your Computer. You Used Some Kind Of Funny Keyboard And Current. It's So Sensitive, I'm Able To Channel Electron Flow To Simulate The Key Being Struck. As For Why You, I Don't Know, I Was Just Floating Around When I Saw You Typing Away. I Tried It And It Worked.

Eddie asked "But if you can do it, why hasn't someone else done it before?"

I Don't Know. As I Said, Your Keyboard Is Extremely Sensitive. Maybe You Need To Understand Computers, At Least A Little Bit. Anyway, Just Because I'm A Ghost Doesn't Mean I Have All The Answers.

Eddie moved back to the computer and sat down in the chair. He breathed deeply several times, running his hands through his hair. Finally, he looked back up at the computer. "Well, since you're here, I don't suppose you could reveal anything about life after death, could you?"

Sure, Why Not? I Haven't Been Dead Long, But I Seem To Feel Why Things Are The Way They Are. What Do You Want To Know First?

"Well, after you die, do you automatically become a ghost?"

No. Apparently, There Has To Be Some Task Remaining On Earth That You Desperately Want To Accomplish. It's Like The Old Legends; Unfinished Business And All That.

Eddie pushed his glasses up his face. "So, you have unfinished business here on Earth?"

Of Course I Do. I'm A Writer. How Many Writers Do You Know Who Are Completely Finished Writing?

"But you said desperately."

Well, Yes. You See, I've Been Writing A Dectology About The Evolution Of Man, Called

"The ChildEarth Cycle!"

Right! You've Read Some Of Them?

Eddie got up and went to his bookcase next to the dresser. From the top shelf he grabbed some books, and displayed them to the computer. "I have the first six."

The Only Six. That's As Far As I Got Before I Well, You Know.

"How did it happen?" Eddie inquired, somewhat absentmindedly looking through his disk collection for a blank disk.

I Was Coming To Meet Someone Who Had Sent Me A Note Concerning A Lost Manuscript Of Grayson's The Stars My Mother? Series. I Was Waiting For Him At The End Of Plager's Eyes Alley When Something Stung Me. That's All I Remember.

Eddie labeled the disk and slid it into the second drive. "So you think someone killed you? But why? Who would want to?"

I Don't Know, But When I Find Him, I'm Going To Haunt The Hell Out Of That Bastard.

Eddie looked up from checking the printer for paper. "So, you're still around because you want to get back at whoever killed you?"

No, I'm Here Because I Wanted To Finish The Series. It Was Going To Be My Masterpiece. But Since There Is Little Chance Of That, I Might As Well Find My Killer And Have A Little Fun.

Eddie nodded slowly and said, "That's too bad. I really wish there was someway I could help you." He looked around his room for a moment, then slapped his head. "Hey, I've got it! You can write your series on my computer!"

What?

"Sure. You can cause current flow to simulate keyboard tapping, so why not use my word processor to write your novels? Then you could finish off the series and go to your final rest!"

My God! You're Right! I Can Still Be One Of The Greats! Hardbound Collections, Here I Come!

Eddie put the wordprocessor into the first drive and the labeled blank disk into the second drive. He started to type in the open command, but stopped and deleted what he had written.

The ghost asked What's Wrong? Is It Having Your Computer Tied Up For So Long? Or is it...

Eddie held up his hands and said, "No, it isn't that. It's just that, well, when you said 'My God'. Do you know?"

Do I Know If There's A God?

"Yes."

Well, I Don't. But I Do Know This. Physics Doesn't Account For Me Being A Ghost.

"But maybe it's just not advanced enough. Being able to cause paths of least resistance to stimulate current flow doesn't exactly fit in with a spiritual explanation."

True Enough. I Do Feel Like I'm Going To Go Somewhere, But Even Then I Have No Idea Whether There Will Be A God In The Traditional Sense, Passing Judgement On Everyone, Or Whether It's Just Another State Of Existence. I Don't Think I'll Know Until I Actually Go.

Eddie smiled. "So you're basically in the same state as the rest of us. Oh, well."

Why Oh, Well? Were You Going To Change Your Life If I Told You There Was A God?

"You never know. I guess I'll just keep on doing what I do now, though. So, are you ready to learn the word processor?"

You Bet. I Can't Wait To Get Started.

"Neither can I."

* * * * * *

It had been almost a year since Steve had first contacted Eddie through Eddie's homemade computer, now christened the GhostMaster 1000. Since that time Steve had worked continuously on the computer, apparently requiring neither physical nor mental rest from the project. The computer was on day and night, and a casual passerby would have seen the cursor dancing across the screen, leaving a trail of pale white letters glowing against a sea of darkness.

Eddie began spending more and more time away from his apartment, allowing Steve to work completely undisturbed on finishing his project. He would try not to interrupt Steve, which showed great restraint, considering man's inclination to discover what lay beyond. Every day, Eddie would change the filled disk with a new blank one, print out what had been written so far, and remove both disks and printout from the apartment 'just in case'. Finally, on a cold December day, Steve came to the end of the last book of the series, Revelations, and waited for Eddie to come by and pick up the disk.

It was almost eight o'clock at night when Eddie finally came back. He shook the New York snow from his coat, dropped it in a corner, and went over to the computer to replace the disk. He was just readying the printer to make a hardcopy when he noticed the words The End on the screen.

"That's it?" he asked, after having made a hardcopy of the day's work. "You're finished with the series?"

Yes, It's Finished. I've Finally Completed My Life's Work. The Series Is Complete. I Can Make The Final Ascension Now.

"Yeah, I would say by Christmas at the latest."

Why Then?

"Well, that's when the this book will be released. The other three are already published. Once the last one's on the market, you'll have completed your unfinished task and go wherever you're going to go. After all, all the other conditions are fulfilled, and your body is properly buried."

What? How Do You Know All This? How Do You Know My Body Was Properly Buried?

Eddie threw a rueful grin at the computer's direction as he started shrugging on his coat. "Oops. You got me. Of course, I was going to tell you anyway. I know that your body is properly buried because I buried it after I killed you."

After You Killed Me!?

"Yep, after I killed you. After I lured you into the alley with the supposedly lost manuscript, I simply hit you with a tranquilizer dart. Unfortunately, the dosage was a lethal amount, but you did stay alive for a little while. Then I just brought you back here and waited for you to die. Your spirit went through a period of disorientation for awhile, in which time I buried your body out back. Since your body was here and you died here, your spirit was naturally bound to this area. And here I was with my extra sensitive computer. What a coincidence, eh?"

But Why? I've Never Met You Before. I've Never Done You Any Harm.

Eddie put the disk in his coat pocket, and slid the printout into a folder. "Sure, but your publisher, the inestimable Mr. McGee, was tired of paying you what he felt to be more than you were worth. At least alive. Now he's publishing the Lost Books Of The BattleEarth Cycle and sales have gone up two hundred percent over your last book. I charged him two million dollars for the murder and the books, which saves him about three million dollars. Pretty sneaky, huh?"

You Bastard! I'll Haunt You Till The End Of Time. Wherever You Go! To The Ends Of The Earth.

"Jeez, don't get so melodramatic. This isn't one of your space opera books, you know. I can't believe people read trash like yours. But whether or not they read it doesn't matter, since once it's published your business here is finished and you leave the material plane forever."

But How Do You Know So Much About Ghosts? How Did You Know It Would Work Out Like This?

"Remember Burton? His Eldritch Wars series? The twelve volume one? He came over here because I had some blackmail material on him, but when he saw the photos, he had a heart attack. I panicked and buried the body at my old apartment, then laid low for a while. And guess who showed up? After that I was a made man."

Then Why Do You Keep Doing It?

Eddie picked up the phone. "Because I want to be the well made man." He dialed the number, waited, then said "Hello? Can I speak to Mr. McGee please? Well, then could you give him a message?"

As he was speaking, the monitor kept flashing the words, I'll See You In Hell over and over again. Eddie reached over and turned off the computer system. "Just tell him his ghostwriter is coming to see him."