Space Ghost came back for Brak an hour later and brought him back to Ghost Planet Industries, where Moltar and Zorak were already in time-out. Space Ghost had three chairs lined up facing the wall, the third one empty for Brak. He plunked him down in it and said that if any of them moved, they would get blasted with his power bands, then he left. The camera that usually recorded the show was aimed at them. None of them knew who was watching, but they knew they were being watched since, as Moltar explained, when Zorak had tried to leave right after Space Ghost left, Space Ghost came right back and blasted him.

Brak caught them up on what happened after they left, adding in as many details as he could remember not just about what Jan had said, but how she had acted. He knew that if someone better at reading people than he was had watched her, they would probably have better insight as to what she was hiding. Unfortunately, he couldn't describe her any better than "she looked sad," or "she looked mad."

When he was done, Moltar let out a sigh, puttering his lips. "So Dr. Soonev is dead. Guess that's why he hasn't published anything lately."

"Well, that was a pointless tangent that led nowhere interesting," said Zorak. "Are you done with this?"

"Not quite," said Moltar. "I think there's still one piece missing. Jan is definitely hiding something."

"So, what? We go back in but with guns this time? Or we lure her out of the house?"

Moltar didn't answer. It was times like this Zorak wished he could see his face, because he had no hints about what Moltar was thinking or feeling. Eventually, he said, "You said that Jan basically admitted something bad happened to him before she knew him."

"Yeah," said Brak.

"Hmm…"

"What?" asked Zorak.

"I need to think about this," said Moltar.


Technically he didn't lie, because he did need to think, but he kept something from the other two: that he was doing said thinking in Space Ghost's apartment after Space Ghost went to sleep. He remembered to put batteries in his Maglite, so this time he had a proper flashlight as he explored the apartment.

It was much the same as before, except everything that had been on the floor last time had been picked up, and a whole new set of things had been strewn about. One of Space Ghost's capes was draped over the back of his easy chair, and the Sunday paper had fallen off his coffee table and was spread out on the floor. Moltar ignored these as he carefully picked his way back to the photo wall.

Breaking and entering was easier to do alone, if he was being honest with himself. It was easier to be quiet, easier to keep focus, easier to see his surroundings. No chattering, much less floorboards creaking, and only his breathing to break the silence. Moltar used this much more adequate beam to get a good look at the pictures on the wall to see if he had missed anything. The cardboard box was still in his way as he scanned the wall, looking to anything he could for clues.

When he got no answers from the pictures, he looked down at the box. With this flashlight, he could see the word Memories was sloppily scrawled across the top. Moltar carefully undid the flaps and opened the box. Inside were mostly paper products, such as newspaper clippings and old letters and cards. There were also a few odds and ends like old keys, a music box, a jewelry box with two sets of rings, a pair of gold earrings, and a wooden carving of a heart.

Moltar began carefully going through the papers. They were pretty boring, for the most part. The one on top was from Jan and it was dated a few months ago. Below that were some mementos relating to this talk show, such as his magazine interview as well as the first TV Guide to list Space Ghost Coast to Coast. Below that were the superhero mementos. He had newspaper clippings from all over the galaxy about Space Ghost's victories against his enemies whenever he managed one near a civilization that had advanced to the point of having newspapers but not so far that newspapers were obsolete. He also kept letters from people all over thanking him for everything he ever did for them.

When he got to the bottom, he carefully placed everything back exactly as it had been, with Jan's letter on the top. He paused, and then picked up the letter. At first he hadn't been interested, since it was less than half a year old he hadn't thought it would contain anything he didn't already know. But after thinking twice, he realized that was only an assumption, and he began to scan the letter. What he saw made him go and read it carefully, from beginning to end:

Dear Tad,

Thank you so much for the blanket. Gary loves it. I wrapped him in it when Tyler and I brought him home from the hospital and he won't sleep without it. It's still so soft, after all these years. I know it was hard for you to give it up, even though it was getting no use in storage. I hope it helps knowing that it's bringing so much comfort to someone. I'm sure if your son had gotten the chance to use it, he wouldn't sleep without it, either.

I found the picture of Dr. Soonev when I was going through the boxes from the apartment. I've enclosed it. I made a copy for myself. It only seems right that you have the actual photo. When you mentioned wishing you still had it, I wasn't sure, because you were so strange after he died. I didn't get it back then, but I do now. I know you still weren't over what happened to her back then, and that made it harder. Things really piled up for a while, didn't they? Hopefully, enough time has passed. I wish you didn't still feel so guilty, but I guess it's always going to be a part of you. I still worry about it, though.

I saw your show last night. Honestly, at this point, I feel sorry for Zorak. He's absolutely pitiful these days. He's a shell of his former self. I almost feel bad for him, although blasting him as much as you do does feel like kicking a man while he's down. But then I think about all the trouble he caused us and my sympathies are limited. Maybe next week give him a good blast for us.

All my love,
Jan

It was the last piece of the puzzle. Moltar was reeling as he read the letter a second time, to make sure he hadn't missed anything. He could see the picture. It wasn't crystal clear, but it was clear enough. It was a picture of loss. Space Ghost had experienced loss before. Moltar still didn't know what happened in the earliest part of the timeline, who he had lost. Jan mentioned a son who didn't have a chance to use the baby blanket. She also mentioned him not being over what happened to "her." Then, on top of that, a friend and colleague died and there was nothing he could do about it. Maybe there was more. Maybe it didn't matter. What did matter was, they died and he didn't.

What had clicked in his head was this: Space Ghost claimed he was a ghost because he had to. It was the only way he could deal with what he lost. It wasn't a random psychosis. He was a man with crushing, all-encompassing survivor's guilt, and the only way to cope with it was to tell himself he hadn't survived, either.

Moltar put the letter back in the box and carefully folded the flaps back up. He was done here. He was done with this whole tangent. He had gotten his answer, and the questions no longer tantalized his idle mind. The only one that remained was, what was he going to do with this information?

He could hurt Space Ghost easily, that he knew. He had just enough information that he could make the baby cry. But it felt cheap, and a bit hollow. He didn't like Space Ghost, that was true, but at the same time he didn't feel like psychologically destroying an already broken man was something he wanted to do right now.

It was for this reason he decided not to mention to Zorak that he had been here tonight. Zorak had no sense of finesse. He would blurt it out right away to cause damage now, when Moltar would rather save it for when he needed it the most. If you only have one nuke, you don't use it to kill a fly that got in the house. You save it for when you go to war.

Moltar left the apartment exactly as he had found it, so Space Ghost would never know he was there. When he closed the front door, he also closed the door on this whole escapade. Tomorrow he would stay in with Linda. They'd watch TV, work on her photo album, cook a nice dinner together. Maybe instead they would go out.

Moltar hoped he wasn't going soft.