“We hear that from a lot of first-timers. What we do here is study and learn how to defend the world from all sorts of scientific and thaumaturgic anomalies.”

“You mean you’re the Ghostbusters.”

“We do a lot more than chase ghosts, but yes, we chase them sometimes, too.”

“I’m not sure what you want from me, but I really don’t think I belong here,” said Coop.

“Neither do I, but it was bring you in or shoot you,” said Nelson. “There’s still time to go the other way.”

“No. I’m good.”

They went out into another hallway and into an unmarked room. To Coop’s relief, it was just an office, with chairs around a big table, a phone, and a computer in the corner. He’d never been so happy to be somewhere so damned boring. Nelson pushed him into a chair, then he and Bayliss sat down across from him. Nelson finally put the pistol away.

Coop started to say something, but Nelson shushed him. A minute later, a tall, hawkish man with strange, milky eyes came in. He looked at Coop.

“I see you brought him in. Good choice. Though I think we could have made good use of him in the post-life department. Still, there’s always time for that. Hello, Mr. Cooper.”

Coop didn’t like the guy’s eyes. They didn’t look quite real, but he looked into them anyway. It was like staring at two fried eggs. The weird part is that it made him kind of hungry. When had he eaten last? The man sat down.

“Hi,” said Coop. “Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m Mr. Salzman. I’m in charge of this and that around here. Which includes you. And them,” he said, indicating Bayliss and Nelson. “Basically, they’re your bosses and I’m their boss.”

“Lucky me,” said Coop. “Bosses for what exactly?”

Salzman looked at Coop. “You’re still cuffed, I see. If you promise to be a good boy, we can do something about that.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” said Coop.

“I hope that, too. Uncuff him, Nelson.”

Nelson didn’t get up. He dug around in his pocket and when he came up with the key, slid it across the table. Coop picked it up and, after a couple of awkward minutes, unlocked the cuffs. He slid them across the table to Nelson. It felt good to have his hands free again.

A row of strange symbols crawled across an LCD screen on the far wall.

“What the hell is that?” said Coop.

Salzman didn’t bother to look. “We think it’s the last will and testament of a demigod who lived around here approximately ten thousand years ago.”

“A demigod? You hang out with a lot of them around here?”

“More gods than hoodlums.”

“Me, too. Let’s be friends.”