Godzilla the Destructor

1.

Egon Spengler stared into the screen of his computer. It had been awful quiet in NYC for almost 6 months now, paranormal wise. The Ghostbusters had few calls, but they had been too busy on the lecture circuit to have noticed, certainly their bank accounts hadn't suffered due to the slowdown in the spectral removal business.

Downstairs, Raymond Stantz was happily rubbing in a third coat of Simonize on Ecto-1, the souped up hearse that served as the team's utility vehicle. Ray had spent the morning doing mechanic work on the '59 Caddy. He'd drained the oil, dropped the pan and replaced seals, and gaskets after inspecting the crankshaft. Satisfied that the engine bottom was good for another 50,000 miles or so, he'd buttoned it up and went to work giving it a good wash and wax job.

On the other side of the building, in the main office area, Janine Melnitz sat at her desk waiting for the phone to ring. It had been over a week since it had rung, and that had been a crank call. The last time they had a call from an actual client was over 3 weeks ago. Janine busied herself by reading another true romance paperback novel, and by touching up her nail polish.

Leaning back in a swivel chair a few feet from the back of Melnitz's desk, Peter Venkman was half asleep, occasionally snoring.

Upstairs, Egon watched as rows of figures flowed vertically across the screen of his computer monitor. Suddenly, he quickly smacked the space-bar on the computer keyboard, and rapidly scrolled the mouse. His jaw dropped as he re-read the last page of data that he had recalled. "SHIT!" he voiced.

Nearly halfway around the globe, Acetylene Drake Lampe looked up at the derelict building in the middle of Tokyo's swank hotel district. He and the real estate agent had just exited the ancient hotel and he had been impressed by what he'd seen. The old building had been one of the few prewar structures still standing, having been totally unscathed by the allied bombing raids during the second world war. The early skyscraper had been designated a historical landmark by the city planners at the insistence of the emperor, it had been waiting for decades to be renovated.

"What is the history of this place?", Lamp asked.

Marukubi Boon ruffled though the pages the folder he carried in his satchel. The real estate agent had been tasked by the city to make certain historically protected properties available to developers who were able to present development plans that would preserve the character of the buildings, while bringing them up to date. Boon, found the writeup on the property that he was now about to show his prospective client, and quickly scanned it for the important details.

"This building is nearly a century old, it dates back to the 1920's," Boon explained. "It was a period before Japan appeared as a threat to the western world, there were quite a few American tycoons doing business here in Tokyo. This building was built as a residence for an American based religious group wishing to have a retreat far from their NYC base. Their leader, a man named Ivo Shandor personally oversaw its construction. Strangely, once completed this hotel was only occupied briefly from 1924 until 1929. It was boarded up during the American occupation period, and after the United States withdrew their forces in the early 1950's this property has passed between various owners, rarely being in revenue service."

"Strange," Lampe muttered. "It looks well built."

"It was a very expensive building to erect at the time," Boon said. "Withstanding many earthquakes, and nearby bomb explosions during the war, is proof that it was well designed and constructed."

"Then why was it left unoccupied for so long?"

"An interesting question," Boon said. "The Imperial government briefly did use this hotel for the purposes of the war department, but relocated that function elsewhere. The American forces also used it for their headquarters for a time, but soon vacated and had the building boarded up."

"Why?" Lampe asked.

"It was believed that the building was haunted."

"Baka!" Lampe laughed.

"I'm glad to hear you say that," Boon replied. "I've been inside myself, and I've seen nothing threatening. Still, history has painted a dark mark on the building, which is why it has sat here waiting for the wreaking ball. For some reason, the emperor wished it placed on the historical list, perhaps its architecture does speak of an era now gone."

"Yes, it does," Lampe said. "I think a few coats of paint, some new plumbing, and the latest robotic systems will make this place profitable, especially at the price you've quoted me."

Yuko Kisaragi was preoccupied at her desk, scanning through page after page of listings on her computer when Dr. O'Shay walked into the office. He plopped his briefcase onto his desk and powered up his laptop computer. After reading though a half dozen emails, he glanced up across the room at his assistant, who hadn't said a word to him since he walked in.

"Yuko, is something the matter?", the doctor asked.

Yuko, quickly looked up, and face palmed.

"Sumimasen, Hakase." Yuko blurted out. "I didn't notice you walk in."

"That's not like you, Yuko," O'Shay said. "Is something the matter?"

"It's a personal problem," She said. "Something I need to take care of. I'm sorry for letting it get in the way of my work."

"Nonsense," the doctor said. "Anything I can do to help?"

"I don't think so," Yuko sighed. "The lease on my apartment is up next month, and the landlord wants to nearly double my rent. Housing is so expensive in this city, I've been busy trying to find someplace else to live that's close by to the Ministry, but I'm afraid there isn't anything available that I can afford."

"Well, I could see if we could get you a raise in salary," O'Shay said. "It's been nearly a year since your last evaluation."

"That would be nice," Yuko laughed, "But I need to find something quickly."

"Take the afternoon off then," the doctor suggested. "I suspect your mind won't be on your work anyway until you solve your problem. My schedule seems to be light for the rest of the week anyway, I will probably be able to manage without your assistance."

Yuko laughed. "Yes, I think I can safely leave you alone for an afternoon." She glanced down at the computer monitor and read the new page that had just appeared. Yuko quickly clicked her mouse several times, and then typed furiously for several seconds.

"Well, Hakase, I may have lucked out."

"How so?", O'Shay asked.

"It seems an old hotel is being renovated for both rental and condo housing. I was just able to get myself on the top of the waiting list." She said. "I may have lucked out, it' in a prime location in the historical district."

"Expensive?" the doctor asked.

"That's the good part," Yuko replied. "The quoted rental price is actually less than what my flat is currently costing me. I guess I shouldn't be counting chickens that haven't hatched yet, but I won't sign a lease until I see the place."

Egon's shoes made a loud noise as he landed hard on the marble floor after sliding down the pole from the upper floor of the former fire house. At the sound of Egon nearly breaking his legs from the hard landing, Peter snapped out of the trance he'd been in, and leaned back far enough to place his center of gravity beyond the vertical. He landed on his back as the chair fell out from under him, nearly crashing into Spengler who manged to leap out of its way just in time.

"I think I've figured it out!", Egon yelled, pounding his right fist into his left palm.

"What have you figured out," Peter asked, "anything earth shattering?"

"You could call it that," Egon replied. "I know why New York has been so un-un-dead lately."

Venkman, brushed himself off, and grabbed for the cup of coffee he'd left on Melnitz's desk. He took one slug of the thick brown liquid, and spat it right out. "COLD!" he voiced.

Ray Stantz waltzed into the office, his jeans and plaid shirt covered with 90 weight oil. "OK Einstein, enlighten us."

"Well it all goes back to what got us into this business in the first place," Egon started.

"You mean Peter getting slimed in the library?" Ray asked.

"Well sort of," Egon answered. "We lucked out in that we had just built all of this equipment when there was this spike in the paranormal energy level, the origin of which was centered on Dana Barrett's apartment building."

"Yes I remember that," Peter said. "Spook Central!"

"So?" Ray asked. "We sent Dozer packing, right back to the other side and we closed up the gate for good, didn't we?"

"No, we only relocated it." Egon answered. "We were were still capturing ghosts for over a year after that encounter."

"Sure," Peter agreed. "The mayor even had a 'bat signal' for us, though I guess technically you'd call it a 'ghost' signal."

"It was only a phone line," Ray said. "It wasn't even a red phone."

"Then what happened, Einstein?", Peter asked.

"New Jersey," Ray added.

"He's right." Egon agreed. "We started getting calls from west of the city. Newark, then Philly, even Pittsburgh."

"So the ghosts moved out of N.Y.," Peter shrugged.

"No, the center of the ectoplasmic energy is shifting," Egon said. "Look, you know how the Earth's magnetic field keeps shifting? The isogonic lines have to be redrawn on navigational charts several times a year because of the shift. Well, something is causing paranormal energy to shift as well. I've been doing some research up in my office on the computer for the past few weeks. I just discovered that Ivo Shandor didn't only head up a cult in the New York area, his group was active in several countries around the world. Barrett's apartment building may not have been the only portal that he built."

"You mean that Gozer might try to come back into our plane of existence from another point?", Ray asked.

"It's not only possible," Egon replied, "but very likely."

"OK, where?" Peter asked.

"I'm not 100% sure yet," Egan replied. "But I've been triangulating using data points of recent reports of major ectoplasmic disturbances."

"And?" Ray asked.

"As best as I can pinpoint with the limited data I was able to come up with," Egon replied, "there seems to be an epicenter somewhere in the Tokyo Japan area."

"Great!," Peter face-palmed.

"Huh?" Ray asked.

"We better get those proton packs beefed up," Peter warned.

"Why?",Ray asked.

"Cause we might end up having to ghost-bag Godzilla!"