The Ghost in the Gray Flannel Suit
Troy worked as an Assistant Afterlife Coordinator. His boss, Terry Peters, was the Afterlife Coordinator to Charles Babbage, who died in 1871. Troy filled in paperwork and set up meetings with manufacturing executives. At night he took coursework with two mediums and a channeler. As an assistant, he had never been allowed to talk to Charles Babbage, and had not once been asked to share an idea. Troy wanted to make a real difference, one that he couldn’t do typing triplicate copies of the Quarterly Ectoplasm Usage reports. He was all set to be promoted to Babbage’s Afterlife Coordinator when Terry left to coordinate a more modern soul, like Alan Turing or Frank Gilbreth. But Terry Peters made a lateral move in the afterlife communication world: he died. Troy was promoted to Afterlife Coordinator, all right, but he coordinated for Terry, not Babbage. Terry Peters was a worse boss dead than alive. He wanted his papers spread everywhere, since he had no corporeal form to flip through them. He wanted a hundred phone calls, where Troy acted as an auditory surrogate. And he expected Troy to maintain the dawn-to-dusk dedication of one not bound by mortal demands. Troy asked for a transfer, but Terry refused it. Troy tried to quit, but Terry gave him a company car, and more money. This was Troy’s life. One night, he drank too much coming home from an 18-hour day, and crashed his car. The next day, he started as the Afterlife Liaison, a special position newly made. It was essentially the same job, except 24 hours, 7 days a week. He reported to Terry Peters.
