Only Jelly.

For a full twenty minutes he had been watching his friend and fellow agent Bayfield, slouch completely motionless on a park bench next to the lake. Now as there was never going to be an alternative, Steele wandered over to join him, receiving a crisp nod to acknowledge his presence.
    "It will help if you talk about it?" Steele thought it the only sensible thing to say, yet it served only to Provoke anger.
    "Talk about it? How can I talk about it? You have no idea..." The words died away and Steele tried again, speaking with over stated calm and reassurance. "I have you know. I know exactly how you’re feeling. Because I know what you saw."
    Certainly not needing to be patronised, Bayfield’s anger grew. "You know!?... How could you know? I have seen something that puts all of Pia at risk! Okay. I’ve got to tell someone, and since you say you know, try this for size. There is an impostor who’s not just impersonating any old agent. He’s impersonating one of our very top men and doing so very, very efficiently."
    "Believe me, there is no impostor."
    "I thought you knew? You know nothing, mate. He’s dead and I’m going to kill his replacement. I’m going to make it slow. God, I want to make him suffer."
    "No, please don’t hurt him... Hang on, I’m struggling to find the right words! I’m not sure you can hurt him. Oh, boy, what do I say now?... Gent, how many times has Vacily saved your life since the massacre? Once?... Twice?..."
    Bayfield growled at him. "Vacily? I never mentioned his name so how did you know?"
    "Look, go home and think it over very carefully. Tomorrow, if you must, we’ll tell Mr Henn, Okay?"
    "I’m not telling anyone, I’m going to kill him."
    "Go home. Please."
    As Bayfield walked tardily away from the lake, Steele continued to sit there and permitted a thin smile to slowly etch across his face. Whatever Sukoloff had become, he was still Sukoloff and still his friend. A friend who didn’t even look remotely ghost-like, so why was he so frightened of him? He was just a see through version that’s all. Who knows, it might just come in very handy having a ghost as a friend.

During the morning, Sukoloff and Tzavros made their way to one of the large training areas. Tzavros pointed out a stocky bearded man wearing thick rimmed glasses who was offering loud, oath-filled advice to a raw recruit who somehow, had got himself stuck on a climbing rope.
    Cautiously, his nerves on edge, Sukoloff approached the former professor. He loitered until the young man with climbing difficulties had been safely grounded, then spoke to the man who didn’t even look the type to believe in ghosts, let alone help one.
    "Mr Gross? I’m Vacily Sukoloff. Um... Special team?"
    For a moment Gross eyed him sceptically, then he smiled. "Vacily? Well, I’d been told to expect a top man, but I certainly didn’t expect you. Can we use your lab? I only have access to the first aid room and I need to borrow some equipment. Now, please."
    Feeling as a naughty schoolboy being marched to the principals office, Sukoloff silently led the way to his laboratory. Once safely inside, Gross rapidly put him at his ease by remarking about the state of his own nerves. "You want to know how I got into this?" began Gross. "Well here goes. I was researching into this phenomena..."
    "It’s not a phenomena."
    "Vacily, do please try not to interrupt... Now as I was saying, you know after I published my thesis on the matter, I was forced to resign and ridiculed as some sort of kook. I had already been at Pia for a couple of years when I found a Class One."
    "Another Class One? Rubbish, there isn’t any more."
    "Tzavros, don’t be so rude, you were always interrupting when you were a trainee. Of course there are other Class Ones."
    "All meant was, phew more spooks."
    "I’m not a spook!"
    " Sorry, Vacily."
    "As I was saying, this Class One was badly injured. Oh, yes, if another Class One hits you then you will feel it. He’d been attacked by a much older and stronger spirit. One from the dark side. Now I knew he was a ghost..."
    "How?"
    "Because, young man, he was see through... As I was saying, I didn’t know how to help him. It was while I was in the middle of trying to arrest the bleeding there was an almighty flash, like lightening..."
    "Probably clued wrong wire together..."
    "Tzavros! This is not a matter for levity."
    "Sorry, Sir."
    "I was saying, after the flash a very angry spirit appeared and grabbed me. Luckily the injured man was able to explain that I was trying to help him and it was then I was shown how to help Class Ones. Of course, I can only do minor repairs. What we really need is a surgeon but, as yet, we haven’t found one, so I have to manage." Gross constantly scanned the two men, not entirely comfortable about telling his story. "The ancient spirit has shown me special drugs made from herbs and roots and if I’m needed, I’m called."
    "Are you phoned up? I mean, how do they call you?" Sukoloff asked twitching slightly.
    "Good question. He talks to Maria’s spirit guides, they talk to her and she talks to me. We never use names because fear of attack is always with a Class One. Hopefully you will change all that for us with your special team of Class Ones and helpers. I’m sure it will work."
    "I don’t understand, why do they keep it so secret?"
    "Isn’t that what you’ve done yourself? Have you told Mr Henn yet?"
    "Yes."
    " I haven’t heard any announcements about it."
    "OK, no."
    "The ones who know about you only found out by themselves or by accident. You didn’t waltz in and tell everybody about it because you’re terrified how people are going to react."
    "Like I did, run like clappers," said Tzavros.
    "Yes, that’s right. You see most people believe in an after life of one sort or another, yet it is only a small percentage that do so openly. Even the majority of those join the great majority who’s hidden dreads have been exploited by story-tellers since time began. They’re convinced that spooky see through things go bump in the night with the sole intention of scaring them out of their skins."
    "You should see Vacily when he in scare mode. Definitely bump in night."
    Gross did not answer for a moment, he tapped his pen on the desk and stared at the smiling young man until Tzavros’s face became red and the smile vanished. "Vacily, you’re a Class One. One of those that can be reformed with the aid of drugs to avoid detection by the living. I’ll explain that in a little while. But what you’re not is one of the un-dead evil beings like vampires and zombies that have kept their old bodies with them."
    "Garbage, vampires don’t exist," Tzavros voiced whilst chuckling.
    "Of course they exist, young man! Now... Oh, yes, I was saying, they cannot be reformed, although some can change shape and do everything a reform can."
    "What is Reforming?" Sukoloff asked hoping Gross would remove the glare he had fixed upon Tzavros.
    "The easiest description would be cloning, only not from actual tissue but using drugs to fix an impression within your ectoplasm. To rebuild an actual outside layer with tissue, nerves and blood that match the original.
    "What you must remember is, just as in life everything has to have an opposite to keep the balance correct. Pretty against ugly—sad against happy—good against evil, that kind of thing. Now, Vacily, do you want to stay?"
    "I want to stay."
    Gross began to explain about the Class One and reformed spirits, how they were much more than just an echo of the living body. The whole body was in-fact still there, but unseen. Certain things made it visible again, some ultrasonic frequencies picked up bones. If a Class One was made to sleep for twenty-four hours, for one hour after this he appeared normal. Heart and blood pressure could even be measured, although it was not understood why this was possible. Gross explained as the bemused Russians looked on that it was whilst in this state the fixing drugs could be used.
    "I will inject you with a sedative. I can do this while you are still as you are now. The injection goes straight into the brain... Don’t flinch, remember it won’t hurt. The instant you wake you’ll be normal, almost. At the moment all you are is ectoplasm, Jelly if you like."
    Sukoloff began to twitch at this, typical, it had to be, didn’t it? Why blasted Jelly? Why not strawberry custard, or chocolate mousse, better still a nice crisp Russian salad.
   "Vacily? Are you listening?... Good, then I’ll continue. This Jelly is contained by what we call the holding layer. This is a thin layer of protoplasm, though not as in a living person, it’s neither living nor dead. There are cells within this layer, normal skin cells but they never renew themselves. I suppose that’s because they don’t have to. Its job is simply to hold the ectoplasm, in theory preventing you from becoming an over intelligent amoeba. Of course, the stronger the spirit, the stronger the holding layer." Gross stopped briefly and smiled as he noticed Tzavros beginning to write furiously as his scientific interest was kindled.
    "At the time of your death something must have happened. Usually there is a lot of atomic energy about to hold a spirit on the earth. With you it might have been a will to survive and your inner energy. This formed that outer layer, enabling you to become a Class Two. Then your will strengthened it further until you became a Class One. Our drugs make it stronger still, of course the cells will not divide or regenerate, but blood and nerve cells will become robust, enabling you to bleed and to feel pain."
    "Like a living man?" Sukoloff said hopefully.
    "No, it will only be skin deep but believe me, it will come in very handy if you wish to remain undiscovered. Imagine if you were to have your fingers trapped in a car door and you continued to chat away merrily, unconcerned because you hadn’t realised what you’d done. It would be a little suspicious don’t you think?"
    "Slightly."
    "On our drugs you would feel skin deep pain and bleed, a nice normal bruised finger. This drug is simply called, Lighter, the other is, Heavier. Now the, Heavier, does for you exactly what the twenty four hour sleep does, it makes you almost normal. Cells renew, bone fractures begin to heal, hunger appears, nails and hair start growing."
    "That sounds pretty normal, I like that."
    "Vacily, I’m sorry, don’t let this give you false hope of staying permanently on Heavier to become a living man. Its work is short term only. One week on the drug to help healing and then the alternate week back on Lighter, and so on until healing is complete. If certain rules, like total rest, are not strictly observed then you can suffer from side effects and they are not funny. Bouncing occurs and when I say bounce I mean bounce, from human to animal, shape changing. Also whilst on, Heavier, your Class One powers are diminished, for example, there will be no flying."
    Sukoloff gave a sigh of relief, the very thought of not being able to fly appealed to him but Gross noticed the look and frowned. "Don’t tell me you don’t like flying? Now that really surprises me. Weren’t you a Phantom pilot?"
    "He still is, the Phantom flyer."
    "Quiet, Zav. I get very airsick."
    "Airsick? How on earth you get airsick?" laughed Tzavros smugly.
    Gross interrupted. "That’s simple, when you fly you must remain invisible, until you learn to do it properly. What happens is, as you take off, you begin to waver between visible and invisible. The different weights make you spin out of control. Then of course you land with your full hundred and sixty odd pounds. That’s fine, unless somebody just happens to be on your runway, you could hurt them... Oh, you did? Please don’t laugh, Tzavros. I’ve been told that flying is a very difficult thing to master."
    "You’re not kidding, it dreadful. How I improve?"
    "What you have to do is slow your descent until you can stop in mid-air, then slowly hover down to land. Pretend your flying a helicopter because you have the same controls. There is also the added bonus of limitless fuel supplies. Practice and soon you’ll love it and become an expert pilot. Now, let me see the injury."
    A blank look crossed Sukoloff’s face, "I’m not hurt! I’m dead!"
    Impatiently Gross sighed then continued. "Your death wound, where was it?"
    Sukoloff’s involuntary twitch appeared again, memories of that particular day still caused him nightmares. "Heart, in front out back, I think. Well I fell backwards, but pain was worse at back... I think."
    Gross began to shake his head. "Then we might have problems. Your physical requires a chest x-ray, yours won’t pass, for all it will show is the scarring around the heart. If that bullet touched bone, either a rib or the scapula, then they won’t be healed. It would be as if you had broken them yesterday, you will fail."
    "Do you mean my heart is damaged?"
    Gross answered slowly. "No, well yes, it’s so complicated. Your heart was damaged to the extent that you died, but you have a normal reformed ghost heart. For some reason, just after death, tissue heals, that’s why you don’t have a hole where the bullet entered and left. But it has scarred, bones however remain broken until you have taken a course of the Heavier, drugs. Very often Class Ones bear the mark of a death wound, they have scars or a missing limb. But your heart is working perfectly, even though it still shows the damage.
    "To a trained eye it’s going to be very obvious that you have received a large gunshot wound and have survived without surgery of any kind."
    Sukoloff slumped into a chair, devastated, suddenly all his hopes and dreams were shattered.
    "So, cheat we do."
    Sukoloff blinked in disbelief. "Zav! Did I hear you correctly? A Pia man becoming a party to fraud? Never!"
    "Okay, Vacily," Tzavros said grinning widely. "Are you suddenly going to die of heart attack. Are your lungs showing signs bronchitis. Are you so ill you’ll put fellow workers at risk? No, because you’re already dead. You be cheating moment you walk into physical. They ask, ‘Mr Sukoloff, how are you?’ and you answer with, ‘I’m fine.’ That a lie to start with. You should say, ‘well I’m OK, considering I’ve been dead while.’ I’m you’re height, almost, I your build, almost. I substitute my x-ray for yours. I take one now and hide in physical room. The rest will be up to you. As will survival exam. Pass that on own merits, no floating or flying. Just one small discrepancy, that’s all it take or throw everything away."
    Gross instantly agreed, but Sukoloff remained doubtful. "Vacily, do you want to go back on active service?"
    Suddenly he leapt to his feet and smiled, "Please can I borrow your lungs, Zav?"

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