Purgatech: Aaron's Terrible Realization

Chapter 3

"Yes." I heard the words leave my mouth, though I couldn't remember shaping my lips around them.

"Wonderful," Mr. Turner said and pulled up a menu on the app. There was a list of several names with a sort of bar next to each one. The bar was blue on the left side, which was marked off, and grey on the right side, which read on.

"See these? Each of these names represents a ghost. They may only interact with us under specific circumstances. I will explain in more detail later but for now, just know that the ghosts are completely dependent on our app for their access to this world. Do you see this red button at the bottom of the screen?"

I nodded my head, too blown away by the nonchalant way that Mr. Turner was speaking about ghosts. I still couldn't believe that any of this was real. How could it be?

"This red button will appear at the bottom of the screen at all times. See how it stays in place even as I scroll through the list of names? In fact, as long as the Purgatech app in open and running in the background of your phone, that red button will appear on all other apps and screens of your phone." Turner cycled through various screens to demonstrate his point.

"This button is what we like to call the 'kill switch'. Basically, if you press this button, no matter what is going on, the app will automatically switch all of your ghosts to the off setting. Does that make sense? It is very important you remember this, in case things ever get, um, strange."

I was a bit confused. "So you have to turn the ghosts on? Like they are a program or something?"

"Well, it is a little more complicated than that. Technically you are turning on your phone's ability to channel that ghost. The ghost is always on but this switch allows you to bring it forward to this world." Turner could see in my face that I wasn't completely following him. "Let's start with a demonstration for tonight. If this seems like something you are truly interested in, we will talk more about the specifics tomorrow."

"Okay," I said. It would a lie to say that I wasn't at least a little bit nervous. Turner wasn't affecting an act. He wasn't trying to build up suspense or embellish the moment. He was as matter of fact as a man about to demonstrate a computer program to a layperson.

"Please, Aaron, try not to be alarmed. I know from your resume that you have had paranormal encounters in the past but this will likely be to a level you have yet to experience. Just remember that everything is under control and all we have to do is tap the kill switch and the ghost will disappear. Are you ready?"

I nodded.

"Very good. Let's witness something extraordinary, shall we?" Without waiting for a reply, Turner placed a finger on the bar next to the top name. It read 'Bobby'. He swiped the bar into the on position.

Nothing happened.

I let out a long breath unsure if I was relieved or disappointed that but I didn't have long to ponder the question.

Without warning, the temperature in the room dropped. The ambient air was suddenly cold enough that Turner and I both exhaled clouds of mist. I looked around, almost frantically, unsure of what might come next. Turner's face wore a tight little smile. He was watching my confusion with pleasure.

Then, a tiny light appeared in the fireplace, right above the place where a fire would have burned in colder months. The pinprick of light grew steadily until it was the size of a beach ball. A pale blue hue emanated from the mysterious circle.

"Go on, check it out. It won't hurt you," Turner said.

I got up from my chair, heart beating a thousand miles a minute. The light stayed perfectly still and I made a semicircle in front of it, viewing it from different angles. It was not, in fact, a circle. It was a sphere, a ball of pale blue light. Instead of straining the eyes, it was quite inviting and I found myself staring into it, speechless.

"Bobby will be along soon. He is always a bit slow finding us. Why don't you try this?" Turner threw me a tennis ball. I caught I out of reflex and stared down, confused.

"What do you mean?"

"Throw him the ball, of course. Show him that we mean no harm. He isn't the most trusting of our ghosts."

I was sure that this was a joke. Some kind of optical allusion or computer program that was built into the wall. Maybe the fireplace was a screen?

"Aaron. This is still part of you interview. If you can't conduct yourself during...."

"I'm sorry. I've got it." If Turner wanted me to throw the ball, then throw it I would. Paranormal or not, this was the coolest thing I'd ever seen.

I lined up on the blue sphere, reared back, and fired the tennis ball into its center. I was surprised at how easily my arm remembered a fastball.

When the ball hit the spheres surface, it passed through without a sound. A half second later there was a dull "thwack", as if the ball had bounced off of something. It did not, however, come rolling back out of the fireplace.

"What the hell?" I asked, more of myself than Turner. I walked forward and reached a hand out to see if the ball was somehow stuck in the sphere.

"No Aaron," Turner said, his voice shifting seamlessly from professional to commanding. His tone startled me and I snatched my hand back.

"I'm sorry."

"Ah, don't be sorry. I should have told you." Turner's voice had softened again. "My mistake. The orb is not something that you should ever touch. Ever. We are still unsure of the exact effects it has on humans."

I looked back the mysterious object in the fireplace and heard a sound. It was a sort of shifting or skidding noise, like someone sliding in the sand.

The ball came rocketing toward me out of nowhere. Too surprised to react, it hit me square in the forehead and knocked me over backwards. I sat up in complete amazement. What in the hell was going on?

Then a foot appeared in the bottom half of the sphere. It was almost like looking at a normal foot, though something was off. I was too amazed to figure out what it was.

The foot continued to emerge and was followed by an ankle and then a leg. A second foot began to emerge and suddenly there was an entire body sliding out of the sphere. It almost appeared to be lowering itself from a ledge, legs swinging in the air and trying to feel the ground beneath them.

As I sat, still planted where I had fallen, the ghost ran to the corner of the room where the ball had bounced. It was a young boy, maybe ten years old and he moved with a child's energy. His back was still to me but I could now see what I was that had looked strange about his foot. The ghost was translucent. I couldn't exactly make out the wallpaper through his body, it wasn't that clear. But there was definitely a difference between his gossamer appearance and that of mine or Turner's.

The boy reached the ball and swiped it up. He turned to face me, a huge smile on his face, and I almost screamed.

Above his freckly cheeks, his eyes were missing. Instead, the sockets were filled with the same pale blue light that made up the sphere. It was so startling to look at that I was surprised I'd ever thought that he looked like a living human.

The boy laughed at the look on my face and threw me the tennis ball. I missed it again.

"Is this real? This can't be real," I said to Turner, all but pleading for an explanation. Turner stood up and began to walk over to Bobby.

"This is real, Aaron. Bobby is a ghost. What you see is a visual representation of the spirit of a deceased human. His true spiritual form is a bit more, um, difficult for the human mind to process. To make things easier, we wrote Purgatech's software to project spirits in an approximation of the way they looked when they died." He reached down and tousled the ghost’s hair. "Maybe in his first life Bobby had more freckles. Maybe his hair was red instead of black. But this is how the program has interpreted the spirit and so this is what it presents us with."

"I didn't think you could touch a ghost," I said. Turner waved his hand toward Bobby, motioning me to try. I got a little closer. I was more uncomfortable than I can describe. Unsure of how to behave, I reached my hand out to invite a handshake.

Bobby eyed me suspiciously, as if deciding whether or not I could be trusted. Then, he slapped my hand a low five, just like a little kid might, and ran around me to fetch the ball I'd missed. "Got you," he yelled. "You can't even catch a ball."

"He can talk too?" I couldn't believe it. It was happening so fast.

"Of course he can talk," said Turner. "He can do most of the things he could do when he was alive."

"That's right, mister, I can talk, and catch a ball better than you." Bobby kicked my shin as he ran by, laughing gleefully.

"Now, Bobby. Let's be nice to Mr. Aaron. This is all new for him, remember."

Bobby touched his thumb to his nose and wiggled his fingers. I couldn't help but to smile, despite my disorientation.

The little ghost ran to the far corner and threw the ball to me again. This time, I was ready and caught it easily. Bobby cheered and waved his hands around, wanting me to throw it back. We began to play catch while Mr. Turner spoke.

"As you can see, Aaron, this is a very real program. Of course, you thought that the advertisement was a hoax, but I am glad you were willing to give us a shot. We are working toward something big here. We will, quite literally, change the world. Imagine it. To be in contact with deceased loved ones at will. The tragedy of death will be profoundly reduced. Just because one passes on to the next plane of existence does not mean that they will be gone forever. They are only a few clicks of the app away. Victims of murder will be able to aid police in the capture of their killers. Crime rates will go down as criminals realize that they will be unable to escape conviction. There is even a chance that, down the road, these spirits may take the place of living people employed in dangerous lines of work. Think of a ghost army. Think of the lives that would be saved."

I took in all of Turners words as Bobby and I tossed the ball back and forth. The picture he was painting seemed too good to be true. If this technology was really capable of bringing spirits back into the world in a physical way, they could indeed be put to use in innumerable ways.

"What would happen," I asked, "if a bad spirit were to make it through the app and into this world."

Turner shrugged his shoulders. "A bad spirit? Well I suppose that would be akin to asking what would happen if a bad person were to be alive on earth. You simply manage that person's behavior until such a time as they are deemed unfit to mingle with others. Same with a ghost."

"But aren't the ghosts different from people?"

"Well of course they are different. They are dead."

"That's right," Bobby added. "We're dead!"

I smiled at the excitable little guy, but I was still a bit concerned. "What I mean is, they can't really be harmed right? I mean, sometimes bad people need to be dealt with by use of force. But you can't hurt a ghost. Like you said, they are already dead."

"Remember, Aaron. That's why we have the kill switch. I told you, that is the most important part of this application. The kill switch must be remembered at all times."

"Oh yeah, that's right. So it just makes them disappear, whether they like it or not?"

"Allow Bobby and I to demonstrate. Are you ready, Bobby?"

"Ah, do we have to? I just got here!"

"I know," said Turner, a tender note in his voice. "I'll have Aaron download you so you two can spend more time together. How does that sound?"

"Yay! That sounds great!" Bobby jumped up and down, cheering again.

"Very well, Bobby. Until next time." He Turned to me and offered the screen of the tablet. "Would you like to do the honors, Aaron?"

I reached out and tapped the red button.

There was a rush of air and Bobby was sucked into the fireplace, into the sphere of light. As soon as his body was completely within the orb, there was an audible pop and it disappeared. The temperature of the room rose to its original level. It was as if nothing had ever happened.

Turner smiled and turned to me. "Aaron, I would like to officially offer you the job. I want to give you the evening to mull it over. Do some thinking, get a good nights rest, and let me know your decision at breakfast. Goodnight." He reached out his hand and I shook it.

Then he turned and exited the room through a door I had not previously noticed.

With nothing else to do, I headed up the stairs to my room.