Ghostbusters International: Chronicles of Gozer
GBI Case File GBI-2004-22/001
Story by Fritz Baugh, Vincent Belmont, Ben King, Jeremy Hicks, TheRazorsEdge, and Brian Reilly
Original Edit by Vincent Belmont; recut by Fritz Baugh
Previously:
In 1983, parapsychology professors Peter Venkman, Ray Stantz, and Egon Spengler were thrown out of Columbia University. They went into business for themselves as Ghostbusters Inc, the worlds first professional paranormal investigators and eliminators. With fourth Ghostbuster Winston Zeddemore and intrepid secretary Janine Melnitz, the fivesome battled many powerful entities, starting with the Sumerian demon lord Gozer the Gozarian.
It is twenty one years later. They now oversee a worldwide franchising body known as Ghostbusters International, and have started families of their own. Their protgs, the so-called "Extreme Ghostbusters" protect New York City day-to-day.
In 2002, three paranormal enthusiasts in England found themselves embroiled in a supernatural assassination scheme centered on the Prime Minister. After helping the famous original Ghostbusters defeat the menace, they became Ghostbusters UK. After several setbacks, they have realigned with the help of Ghostbuster and wizard Vincent Belmont.
In 2003, the death of a movie director at the hands of a disgruntled former employee who sold his soul for power led to the creation of GBIs largest franchise, the Los Angeles-based Ghostbusters West Coast. The GBWC has just won their greatest victory, over the Egyptian death-god Anubis, but in the process endured the sacrifice of one teammate, and the strange disappearance of a second
Quick Note: This story was originally written before Ghostbusters: The Video Game was even announced. It does not take any of the revelations of that game into account.
May 27th, 9:15am, Canada(EST)
Ghostbusters Omnibus Timeline Year Twenty-Two
12 days until the end of the world.
Toronto, Canada
They had been open for three weeks without a single call. Although Ghostbusters International Franchises often have difficulty getting started, this was beyond belief. Toronto was a large city; dense with PKE readings which over the months had steadily been growing worse. In fact, all over the world the readings had been increasing drastically, with little corresponding rise in spectral activity. Something grandiose was brewing, and the newly founded Ectoplasmic Containment Team Of Canada, " E.C.T.O. Canada," was already running short of funds.
"This isnt good," remarked Brian "Reilly" Walker, co-founder of E.C.T.O Canada and resident mechanic. "Downtown Torontos PKE density has doubled in little over a day. We should investigate."
"Investigate? Are you crazy? Whos gonna pay us to investigate?" Chris asked, sounding almost angry. Chris Davis was the more sensible of the two. He was gung-ho, but not to the point of chasing down ghosts for no reason. That would eliminate customers, and put them out of business. But Chris had other reasons for doing this too. He was also honoring his lost brother, Julian, as a fighter of evil spirits.
"I just want a chance to test out my PowerTrap." said Brian slyly. He was a little gung-ho, and very sarcastic. He had a knack for inventions, and the PowerTrap was his latest.
"What is that thing, anyways?" asked Chris, only half interested.
"Its basically a trap and proton pack stuffed into a grenade." Brian explained. "When armed, it gives the user thirty-seconds to throw it before it sends out multiple proton streams, and then sucks the entity into it."
"That sounds pretty cool..." said Chris, more interested now.
"Well, it has its limitations. For one, it relies on the PowerCell technology found in certain proton pack revisions, and it can only be used once before it needs a new cell. In addition, since the cell powers the trap as well, its proton streams are significantly weaker than those of a real pack. Of course, that doesnt mean it wont destroy any breakables in the surrounding area. Its equally effective in that aspect."
"So then, what is it good for?"
"Trapping entities without having to get close. I just dont know how useful it will be against more powerful entities such as demons and stronger manifestations. If I could find a better power source..."
Chris knew what was coming. Brian would drone on about his weird theories and start scribbling numbers and symbols on the blackboard. And drone he did. He snatched a piece of chalk up from the table and was writing before his hand touched the chalkboard. He wouldnt finish for hours, and he certainly wouldnt notice if Chris quietly slipped out of the room... which he did.
(9:30am)
Downstairs, Chris sat at a wooden reception desk in the garage and gazed at his surroundings. The desk was littered with papers, mostly faxes from GBI and bills for electricity. Chris had his feet propped up on a stack of said faxes that had already been read and were waiting to be filed. Waiting until they hired a secretary to file them, that is.
The empty firehall was in need of some serious work. They had purchased it from the city who had it condemned due to much needed repairs and a lack of funding.
Ghostbusters International recommended that all franchises use a firehall as their base of operations, so Chris and Brian leapt at the chance to purchase it so cheap. Unfortunately, they did not realize the extent of the work that needed to be done.
The main support beams on the ground level all had to be replaced before they could even move in. That took two weeks. Then, after finally getting the containment unit installed, they found the basement water pipes in need of replacing. Brians design called for liquid cooling to keep from overheating, and rusted out lead pipes did not make the cut.
There were good surprises too, though. For one, unlike most firehalls, the wiring was surprisingly up to date. It seemed that this firehalls basement was equipped to be a fallout center, complete with own backup generators and high voltage cable already installed. The generators needed a little work, tightening a few bolts here and there, not to mention being cleaned and oiled, but would easily be enough to ensure that the containment unit stayed online during power outages.
Then, there were the re-enforced walls and ceilings. In the event of a massive containment failure, it would be very unlikely to cause major structural damage to the building. The original Ghostbusting team had encountered such troubles, and it was good to know that E.C.T.O. Canada was already prepared.
-BEEP BEEP BEEEEEP-
Chris looked up. A fax was coming in from Ghostbusters International. There was always a fax coming in; usually about some new merchandise or pricing plans, or miscellaneous marketing paperwork. Chris glanced at the papers and saw that one of GBWCs members, Jeremy Hicks, had gone missing. He rolled his eyes and crumpled up the notice as he threw it into the trash.
"What the hell would he be doing in Canada, anyways?", Chris muttered to himself as he headed back upstairs.
(10:00am)
"Brian," Chris called out as he entered the room, "We just got another fax from GBI. Jeremy Hicks of GBWC is missing. Keep your eyes open."
"What would he be doing in Canada?" Brian asked sleepily, being drawn out of the mathematical trance he was still in at the chalkboad.
"Obviously hes not in Canada, lunkhead!" Chris replied, "But theyve probably just got one send list that goes to all the franchises. Saves em a lot of time from having to send a bunch out to each franchise. This is pathetic..."
"Whats pathetic, now?"
"This! Sitting around with nothing to do..."
"Some of us are working, you know."
"Whatever. We should be out catching ghosts. I bet those other Canadian Ghostbusters have their phones ringing off the hook. Maybe we should move out to the east coast?" Chris was getting anxious.
"Maybe not." retorted Brian flatly.
Chris walked into the next room and turned on the TV. Some news show was on, so he flipped channels. More news. "Jesus. theres news on evey damn channel! Is it me, or is Toronto really lacking in quality TV stations?"
"Red Green should be on right now. Try channel nine."
"News."
"News?" asked Brian. He wasnt paying any attention at all.
"Yes, news. Thats what I said." Chris replied. He was starting to get a little red in the face.
"Are you sure?" Brian wondered, still not looking, and probably not caring.
"Im postive, Brian. Im starting right at the freakin set. Do you think I could be right here and not know what Im talking about?" Chris was getting upset now. His crazy vein was popping out of his forehead. He hated it whenever Brian was too busy to pay attention.
"Well, then it must be something important, turn up the volume."
"Important my ass..." muttered Chris. He turned up the volume anyways, extra loud so Brian would have to listen, too.
"...a few injured, but so far, no fatalities. The Police have been unable to stop the man, or either of his bears..."
"See, just some nutball walking around town with two bears-waitaminute. Those are Terror Dogs!"
"Right," said Brian sarcastically. "As if youd know what a Terror Dog looks like; You slept through the whole GBI info session on catalogued supernatural entities."
"Did not, I stayed awake for the Terror Dog part." Chris angrily replied, "Saw em on TV when I was a kid, wanted one for a pet."
"Im sure theyd make great pets, too..." said Brian, rolling his eyes.
"Hey, Ive never seen one attack its master before. Have you? Besides, Im telling you, man, those things are Terror Dogs!"
Brian walked over to the TV and looked at the screen, humouring Chris. What he saw made his blood run cold.
"Shit."
As soon as Chris heard Brian utter the word, he knew it was bad. And in Chris mind, bad meant action. "Ill grab the packs, you warm up the car!" Chris said excitedly, running for the firepole. Brian ran after him, slid down the pole, and at the bottom, they quickly changed into their uniforms. Brian headed for the hearse.
It was a 59 Caddy, like the original Ghostbusters, only this one was strictly a hearse, not a combination model. They had retrofitted it with sirens, and painted it black with orange fins. The orange and green no-ghost emblem that served as E.C.T.O. Canadas logo proudly emblazoned its sides, and adorned the hood in ornament form.
Since it was a hearse, it already had the rollers needed to harness the rack for the proton packs. However, it did not have the electrical system of an ambulance, and as such, had to be rewired to make the roof rack operational.
Brian grasped the chrome handle, and swung open the polished black door. He got inside, admired the perfectly restored interior for a second, and put the key into the silver ignition. He turned, and with a loud groan, and then a sigh, the Ectomobile refused to start.
He gave the car a little gas, and tried again. This time it turned over, and the engine purred softly. Brian got out of the car and went around back, opening the door for Chris so he could load the packs.
"You know, we really havent had a successful test of all this equipment yet..." Chris reminded.
"Now dont start that again. Lets go," commanded Brian as he climbed back into the drivers seat.
"How come you always get to drive?" smirked Chris as they headed out for their first bust.
(11:00am)
"Well, its still standing. Thats a good sign" remarked Chris, referring to the CN Tower.
"Har har," Brian was not amused. This was bad and he knew it. Understandably, he was not in the mood for jokes.
"Yeesh, this must be bad-Hey! There he is!" Chris said, pointing to the base of the tower.
The stranger, a young man wearing glasses, walked past the base of the tower. He paid the Ghostbusters no attention, regardless of the lights and siren on the car. On each side of him, walked a horrific beast, powerful and muscular. Their grey and leathery skin was stretched over its muscular frame, like some hellish pit bull. Their eyes were a deep scarlet, and their horns stretched on either side of their head. They were the "Terror Dogs." Great beasts encountered by the Ghostbusters in 1983.
"So what do we do?" asked Chris.
"I guess we find out what it wants." replied Brian, exiting the vehicle, and walking towards the stranger.
Chris followed closely with his thrower drawn. He wasnt too worried about the stranger, but the Terror Dogs worried him. Those things probably weighed about six hundred pounds each, and they were solid muscle and teeth.
Brian however, just followed his PKE Meter. Sometimes, he was so oblivious to danger...Chris shook his head just thinking about it. It made them a good team. Not really brains and brawn, as both were relatively equals on all playing fields. No, it was more like Chris didnt have the patience for more tedious studies, while Brian fancied himself more of a scientist than an exterminator.
As they neared the stranger, the dog on his left turned and began to snarl at the busters. Brian stopped dead in his tracks, and Chris bumped into him. The resulting collision got the attention of the stranger, who, with the other dog, turned and glared.
The busters got to their feet and Brian drew his thrower. They stood there, eyeing the stranger, while the stranger eyed them back.
"What do you want?" asked Brian.
The stranger just stared back in reply. Suddenly, he pointed at the logo on Chris arm.
"Uhh, yeah, were um, the Ghostbusters?" said Chris.
The stranger just stared upwards until large white and blue sparks began to shoot from is eyes.
"This cant be good," lamented Brian, right before twin bolts of deep blue lightning shot out of the strangers eyes and into the clouds above.
"Definitely not good!" cried Chris as he ran for cover.
The clouds began to swirl, and the sky turned a deep purple. Chris and Brian set up between two parked cars and aimed their proton guns carefully. Brian glanced behind him, a small crowd was forming, drawn, most likely, by the sirens of the Ectomobile, which were still running.
"Fire on three?" asked Chris in a worried tone.
"One...Two...THREE!" counted Brian, turning his gaze back to the stranger. Both busted fired, and the streams, arced wildly back and forth, forcing the new busters to brace themselves. Before the streams could reach the stranger, a large, horned beast, ripped with muscles and a head jammed with teeth, burst forth through the sky in a flash of lightning and got caught in the beams.
"Not exactly what we were aiming for, but still good" remarked Chris, reaching for his trap. The crowd cheered, not realizing that it was not the intended target.
"Its another terror dog. This is bad. Very bad." said Brian flatly. Suddenly, there was another flash and another terror dog appeared.
"Uh oh..." trailed Chris. The flashes continued, getting faster and faster, until there were over twenty of the beasts in a matter of seconds. The beasts were attacking civilians at random, and although the flashes had slowed, it was clear that they were not going to stop anytime soon.
"Minions of the Traveler, protect your master!" The stranger began to rant.
"Well, I suppose that means hes in control of them. As if there was ever any doubt..." trailed Chris.
"...we will take this world and its puny inhabitants..."
"Indeed." replied Brian. "The flashes are slowing. Perhaps he can only bring forth so many?"
"...they shall be roasted in the depths of a sloar..."
"It does stand to reason that, whoever this guy is, his power is limited in our dimension. Did you happen to notice what he called those things?" asked Chris.
"...apocalypse shall come forth..."
"Minions of the Traveler. You dont think he means-" Brian was cut off suddenly by the stranger who had begun to shout.
"THE FORMLESS DESTRUCTOR WILL PREVAIL!" cried the stranger, ending his rant. He turned and fled. Brian leapt over the hood of the parked car, and lunged after him, firing his proton gun wildly, attempting to cut him off. The stranger turned and began to run back towards Brian. Brian, shocked by the sudden changed in course, fired and caught him full stream. For a brief second the stranger look mildly amused, before throwing Brian thirty yards back with twin bolts of lightning.
Chis watched in disbelief as Brian was thrown back . "Apparently," thought Chris, "This guy has an immunity to proton streams."
There was no way Chris could hold him on his own. He tried to stay low as he unclipped a section of his belt, wrapping his fingers around a sleek metallic ball about the size of an orange. He felt around the the ribs on the top of the ball, keeping his eye on the stranger at all times, and placed his thumb on a tiny red button. Holding his breath, and shaking a bit of sweat from his brow, he armed the PowerTrap bomb.
"Soon as that bastard gets near to me, Im gonna fry his ass..." Chris whispered to himself. As the stranger neared, Chris lobbed the heavy weapon forward, hitting the him square in the chest, with a dull thud. The PowerTrap promptly fell to the ground with no effect. The stranger kept running, but as he passed Chris, he turned and looked back, and called to the terror dogs one last time:
"Return to your master!"
The terror dogs all stopped their destruction, and ran back through the portal. Although all the terror dogs had returned to whatever dimension they came from, the portal did not close. Deep blues and purples shimmered in the wide circle. Every now and then a bolt of deep blue lightning would crackle through the portal, causing it to grow slightly.
Brian slowly limped over to where Chris was now standing. He was holding the charred PowerTrap. "The thing just got fried when it hit him."
"Maybe my design isnt all that great..." said Brian half-heartedly.
"Or maybe he was just too damn powerful for it." replied Chris.
"Whatever it was, we need to send a bulletin to GBI about this...not to mention find a way to close that portal."
"I got a good look at the guy when he ran past me," stated Chris, "It was Hicks."
Penkeridge, England
Class had finally ended. Sara Jones was cleaning up what the students had decided to leave on the floor.
"Little buggers don't know how much this equipment costs...Ought'a let them balance the budget for this place."
Just then, her cell phone rang. Just by the ring, she knew it was her father.
"Hello there kitten, how was school?" her father asked in his usual cheerful manner.
"It was fine dad. The students left everything on the floor again and I'm still picking it up. I think I'm going to have them spar without any padding tomorrow."
"That's my girl, always thinking of new ways to remind people to take care of their things. So, are you coming over for dinner tonight? Your mother made your favorite, spaghetti and meatballs."
"Yeah, I'll be coming over in an hour or so, right after I pick this place up."
"Alright, see you in a little bit, little bit." he chuckled.
"Alright daddy, bye."
She hung it up and continued cleaning. It was about twenty minutes later that she got done and locked up. She started walking towards her car, which was farther away than normal because someone had parked in her space before she got there. Oddly enough, the car was still parked there after 7pm.
"Stupid bastard," she thought to herself, "I'll find out who that car belongs to and break a piece of my mind off in his arse."
The only available space when she arrived was about 4 blocks up the street. It seemed odd that there was no one else out on the street at 7pm, and she knew there should've been. A surge of paranoia washed over her, and she started walking a little faster.
"If anyone tries anything, I'll be ready," she thought.
A shadowy figure appeared almost out of nowhere. It was like a great dog, with thick leathery skin and blood red eyes. Two long horns adorned its head like some hellish crown. It moved faster than anything she had seen before, almost like it wasn't stopped by gravity or friction, and flew at her. Right before it made contact with her, she jumped up and over, landing about ten feet away. Suddenly, a voice as piercing as any knife blasted through her head.
"You are feistier than my last host. But your efforts will be futile, just like the last time."
In the blink of an eye, it knocked down and pinned her on the ground.
"Bloody Hell!" her lips spat as she hit the ground.
It spoke again.
"It was fun while it lasted mortal, but my time is now!"
Sarah didn't know what to call this beast, but one word sprung to mind before she blacked out: "Terror..."
She woke up half an hour later, only knowing she had made plans to have dinner with her parents.
After finally getting to her car, Sarah got in and drove off still upset about the jerk that parked in her spot. She extended her middle finger at it as she passed. When she had turned the corner, a portal appeared under the offending car and swallowed it, then disappeared. A few minutes later, a smaller portal opened and the steering wheel popped out, and was followed by a belch that shook all the windows for two blocks, and then the portal closed. Sarah, by this time, was half way to her parents house when her cell phone rang. She didn't recognize the tone, but answered it anyway.
"Hello? This is Sarah."
"Sarah? This is Tommy's mom, Sandy."
She had to think for a second as to who she was talking to.
"Oh, Tommy Brown. And how are you?"
"I'm fine. I'm sorry to tell you this, but I'm going to have to pull him out of your class. He's gotten so violent at school, and he says that the other kids started it. I hope you understand."
"Yes I do. You do what you have to to keep him safe and out of trouble. Hopefully he'll be able to rejoin the class when he calms down."
"I do to Sarah. I'll talk to you later then. Bye," she said before she hung up. Sarah hung her cell phone up and put it back in its little cubby hole in the car.
After getting to her parents house, she told them what had happened to make her a little late.
"So there was this jerk who parked his bloody car in my spot, and the nearest spot was four blocks up."
"So you let him stay in your spot," her father quipped after he had finished his fork full of spaghetti.
"Of course she did dear, we raised her better than that. It's not like she kicked dents in his doors and broke his windows," her mother added.
"Oh believe me, I was tempted," Sarah confessed, "but I controlled myself. I'm gonna find out whose car it is and give him a piece of my mind."
"You could always use my lawyer and sue," her father jokingly suggested.
"Don't think I won't take you up on that offer dad," she responded playfully.
"Now, now children, let's not have what happened last time come back and bite us in the bum."
"Okay mom. We'll behave, mostly," Sarah said as she winked at her father.
"Yes dear," he replied as he winked back at her.
"Well, I should get going you two. I need to get to sleep."
"Alright honey, we'll see you later, but come're and give us a hug."
She gave her parents a hug, said good night to the butler, and walked to her car.
She started up her car and drove off. She felt like she had a huge headache when she reached her flat, so she took some Tylenol and practiced some martial arts katas to help her calm down. She never liked to go to bed angry. It caused her rent to go up in repair costs, because for some reason she punched holes in her walls when she slept while she was angry. After she was sufficiently calmed down, she went to her bedroom and changed into her bed clothes, a pair of shorts and a tank top. She then went to the bathroom and went to the bedroom. She suddenly had the urge to watch the news, so she turned on the television and was greeted by scenes of destruction that were coming from Toronto, Canada. Reports were that there was only property damage, no casualties. Not even an injury. And there was so much damage that she couldn't believe that there weren't any dead or injured.
"Oh well, at least there won't be any doctors bills for them," she thought as she turned off the tv.
Settling in for the night, she wondered if the same fate would befall London or another large city somewhere else. She wondered this until she fell into a deep, fitful sleep where nightmares reside.
She found herself looking out onto a strange skyline, roiling clouds and strange lightning coming from above and a sea of churning clouds below. Then, she saw it. She didn't know how to describe it, except that it looked like a stairway going up to what looked like a pyramid. An eerie light emitted from the very top of the pyramid. like some colossal torch in the distance. She then looked at the doors, and saw something staring back at her. It was the same creature that she had encountered near her car. It opened its hellish maw wide, and issued forth an infernal bellow.
"Zuuuuuuuuuuuuul!"
The sound filled her with nerve-wracking terror. Her body was frozen. She was unable to speak, to move, to scream...
It lunged at her with such surprising speed that it was upon her instantly. She shut her eyes, waiting for the impact, but felt nothing. She opened them and beheld a scene that was yet again unfamiliar to her. She was looking at the same scene, but it was different. The temple was again in her vision, but it was inside a building in a city. She blinked, and her perspective changed again. This time she was in a brightly lit room with the same creature she had seen earlier. There seemed to be only one way in or out, so she made a move toward the door. Before she made it, the door suddenly swung open and in came a beautiful woman in a chair being held by three inhuman hands. She blinked again, and she was in her flat. She moved around and came upon the bathroom mirror and looked. In the place of her face was the same horrible creature. She then let out a scream and ran. She ran into a wall, but instead passed through it as if she were made of nothing at all, and fell into darkness.
She woke up drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. She got up to get a glass of water from the kitchen and a Tylenol from the bathroom. She turned on the light and almost dropped her glass. When the light chased away the darkness of the room, seven cockroaches scurried down the sink drain.
"Dang, that was just plain gross," she thought.
She went back to bed and back into that dream.
She found herself in place she didn't recognize, but seemed strangely familiar. There was the pyramid again, but this time there were two of the creatures. There seemed to be something else there; something she couldn't see. It sent chills up her spine as the wind blew on her scantily clad body.
Her alarm pierced her senses, startling her awake. As she got up, she wondered what the day had in store for her...
England (10:36pm)
"Welcome to Britain," Greeted the cheery staff member who was checking the passports of the passengers as they disembarked from BA Flight 884. "Please state the nature of your visit, business or pleasure?"
The man she was talking to paused for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully.
"Pleasure." He replied with a slight hint of amusement. He then gave her his passport, she checked it, stamped it with a rubber stamp and handed it back.
"Enjoy your stay, sir." She replied.
"I'm sure I will." The man replied and gave her a smile. She couldn't quite put it down...but something about that smile made a shiver run up and down her spine.
May 28th, 2004
11 days until the end of the world.
England (5:46pm)
The two teams of Ghostbusters UK sat in the recreation room. It was nearly time for the shift change so the Day Shift was rounding up their activities as the Graveyard Shift prepared themselves for twelve hours of duty. This was how things usually happened...though sometimes people stayed up longer then they were meant too...which had led to some unusual incidents over the previous year. Next to the door of the rec room, a blue light began to flash. This signified that the Day Shift had ended, and that the Graveyard Shift had begun.
"Right..." Ben King Sr. replied. "Here's the duty roster...plus a few tasks here and there that need to be done by active Ghostbusters..." He explained as he handed a clipboard to Dr. Vincent Belmont, the Graveyard Shift's leader.
"Understood." Vincent replied. "We'll brief you in the morning if anything happens."
"Thanks." Ben replied, he then slung his drained Proton Pack onto his shoulder and walked out of the room in the direction of the garage where he'd set it up for a recharge.
"Iain...before I forget..." Vincent looked over at GBUK's second in command. "We need to have a look over the Third Floor of the East Wing...in case we need to start developing it."
"Sure...just yell when you need me." Iain replied. With that said he left the room. Suddenly the room was sent into a commotion as a alarm bell began to ring. The Graveyard Shift charged out of the rec room and towards the reception.
"You guys have a job in..." Ben King Jr. paused as he read the note. "Nottingham...there's a ghost haunting a church there...sounds like a Poltergeist...the details are all there." He handed the note to Vincent.
"Thank-you...collect the Ecto-visors...we'll need them." He replied as the team made their way through the building's kitchen/dining area on their way to the garage/equipment area.
(6:01pm)
As Iain climbed the staircase he paused on the Second Floor landing and looked up towards the Third Floor. He moved along to the staircase to the Third Floor and climbed it. About half of the Third Floor was in use. The West Wing housed the library and VIP quarters...however the East Wing had remained derelict...partly due to a lack of funds to develop it and no need to use it...or at least there hadn't been a requirement when the HQ had been set up...but it had been determined that sooner or later they would need to develop it into a workable part of the HQ building.
He walked over to the metal door and pushed it open. The area was in a mess. Ceramic tiles and other parts of debris littered the floor as they hadn't been cleared away. As he walked, Iain shivered. He didn't know why but this part of the building gave him the creeps...it was so dark and miserable that something could hide there and be right on top of him before he knew what happened...of course...they had systems set up to tell them if anything was there that should'nt've been there. Still...there was something in the air that he didn't like. He approached the end of the hallway and stopped.
He studied the rooms to his left and right. On his right were the remains of what looked like some kind of testing room...and to his left a room which had been marked up as 'Solitary Confinement' on the building's floor plans. He entered the room. Sooner or later they'd need to conduct some type of examination...see what the rooms could be used for.
He paused. The rubber padding in the room had been decaying since the place had been shut down...but it still squeaked when stood on...except for one place. He walked back to the door, and then moved towards the center of the room.
Squeak. Squeak. Squeak. Squeak. Squeak. Squeak.
He re-walked that path several times, each time the pronounced difference in the squeaking floor was audible in the same place. He stooped down and felt around the rubber padding. To his surprise he found one of the large rummer squares had come loose...revealing a large black hole in its place. He extracted a penlight from his field belt and shone it into the hole. There was dust...and dirt...and what's that! Or...sorry...just more dirt.
"Hmmm." He mused, poking the shaft of light into the gloom. It strayed across something large and dusty. Iain placed the small penlight on the rubber-covered floor and put a hand into the hole in the floor. He wrestled for several minutes to snag the object, and then he finally got it. He pulled it out into the gloom and studied it. It was a book...a large one at that. Hardback...and it had obviously seen better days.
There was a strange language written on the cover, a language Iain didn't know. He stood up, grabbing his penlight as he went. For now he'd keep the thing locked up in his lab until he could run some tests on it in the morning...it could prove interesting.
(6:25pm)
Tommy turned over in his bed...something wasn't right. There was something tugging at the back of his mind...he frowned...it was...it was...
"Fire!" Tommy bolted upright...he could heard the fire alarm as it's shrill cry sounded outside in the hallway.
"Shit." He swore and jumped out of bed, following Ben and Roger as they charged down the corridor. They charged down into the reception area and followed the smoke to Iain's lab. Inside the found him pouring the contents of a fire extinguisher onto a rapidly burning pile of papers...after a few moments the fire was out and the alarm was dead. "Would someone tell me just what happened!" Tommy shouted.
"Well...err..." Iain began, scratching the back of his head. "I don't know."
"What do you mean you don't know?" Tommy fumed. "There was a fire in your lab and you didn't know what caused it...or that it had even started?"
"Well, I wouldn't quite say that it's more like... yeah you're right." Iain replied.
"Godammit..." Tommy swore. "Then at least find out what caused that fire...in the morning?" Tommy asked.
"Yeah...sure." Iain replied sitting down at the now scorched desk.
"Hey," Ben replied, clamping a hand on Tommy's shoulder. "Look on the bright side...we've had a successful Fire Drill at the expense of some papers...I say we've had a good bit of luck."
"Always trying to find a way to get everyone out of trouble, aren't you?" Tommy asked with a non-impressed look on his face.
"Hey...you owe it to these guys, they follow you into seven shades of living hell every week...I say small accidents like this are a by product."
"Remind me...and you don't need to see a shrink?" Tommy asked.
"My meeting is next Thursday...I swear." He held up a hand in defense as a big grin appeared on his face. "Just get some sleep...it's only..." He looked at his watch. "Okay...it's nearly eight...you can still get a half hour's worth of sleep."
"I think I'll pass." Tommy replied as they reached the kitchen.
(7:02pm)
"I just can't work out what could've caused that fire." Iain replied to Roger as he studied a partially-melted PKE Meter. He then looked at the scortched desk...and then he rotated his head and looked over at the book. After looking at the book he turned back to the PKE Meter and then the desk. "No...it could'nt have been...could it?"
"Couldn't what?" Roger asked.
(7:45pm)
Iain sat at his workbench as he applied a screwdriver to the back of the PKE Meter's fire damaged case. He removed the back plate and studied the interior circuitry. He'd been wanting to purchase some of the new Mark 3.0 PKE Meters...however the team was still using the Mark 2.1s.
The Mark 2.1s were based off of the redesigned appearance and construction of the PKE Meter designed at the New York Head Office in 1997. However the Mark 2.1 was much more safety-proofed then the Mark 2.0 of the 1984-1989 period of GBI's operating. Iain picked up a pair of tweezers and began to prod about inside the charred interior of the PKE Meter.
"Hmm." He mused. He then ran his stool over to a bookcase which contained tomes, textbooks and GBI equipment manuals. He slid a hand across the spines of the books until he reached a particular book titled: 'PKE Meter: Operation, Repair and Calibration. THIRD EDITION'. He pulled the textbook out of the bookcase and opened the book to the contents page. He scanned the lines of text until he found the entry for the PKE Meter Mark 2.1. He then opened the book at the appropriate page and studied the diagram of the interior circuitry. He then read the details on circuit damage.
"Circuit damage is usually the result of an overload of PKE energy. However, circuit damage has been recorded in the past due to overcharging of the built-in battery storage...for more details on overcharging please see the appendix on Electrical Problems, Paragraph Two. The most common difference in the PKE Meter Mark 2.1 (1997) from the previous incarnations of the PKE Meter is it's electronics layout, and the addition of a surge protector which can combat against the overloads created by PKE powered matricies of certain varieties...for more details please see Casefile GBNY-1983-1/103, GB codeword: WATT. However, this system is less protected for overloads then the Mark 3.0 PKE Meter (Introduced in 2003) which is now equipped with a redundancy circuit designed to protect the interior circuitry from overload, at present the Mark 3.0 PKE Meter is the most up to date variant of the design investigated and then eventually constructed by New York staff member Professor Egon Spengler during his time as a student at Columbia University in 1973..."
Iain looked back at the PKE Meter's interior...if he'd got the gist of it...then something may've overloaded the interior workings of the PKE Meter...and if so...what? He slid his stool over to a metal desk near the door and opened a drawer. He then pulled out a second Mark.3 which he had stored in the lab. He then stood by the door and switched it on. For a few moments the PKE Meter worked fine...then suddenly the screen was maxed out and a small explosion erupted from the back of the device.
"Ya!" Iain dropped the flaming device, he then snagged the fire extinguished and put out the fire. He then looked in the direction he had pointed the PKE Meter...and spotted the book with the strange language on the title.
(7:55pm)
"Okay...I think...think I've found the source of the fire." Iain announced as he entered the break room, charred PKE Meter in hand. "Now...do you want the good news...or the bad news?" Iain asked. Tommy, perched in one of the armchairs with a copy of Top Gear Magazine, placed the magazine in his lap, over by the card table Ben paused in his game of Solitaire to turn and listen to what Iain was about to say.
"Bad news first." Tommy replied. Iain blanched.
"I really think you'd want to know the good news first." Iain replied hesitantly. Tommy released a slightly irritated sigh and then looked straight at Iain.
"Okay...what's the good news?" He asked.
"Okay...good news is the fire was caused by the PKE Meter..." He held up the charred PKE Meter. "This PKE Meter." He then handed the PKE Meter to Tommy who took it, turned it over in his hand, handed it to Ben to examine and then turned to face Iain. "Okay...now what is the bad news?" Tommy asked.
"What caused that..." He pointed at the PKE Meter which Ben was holding. "And another PKE Meter to burst into flames."
"You know those things cost thirty pounds to replace?" Tommy asked shrewdly.
"Err...yeah." Iain replied. "Do you guys want to see what I'm talking about or not?" Iain asked with a slight hint of annoyance.
"Sure." Tommy replied, getting up from the chair, moments later Ben followed, charred PKE in hand as they went to Iain's lab.
(8:12pm)
"I was poking around the third floor of the East Wing last night...and I found this book hidden under the padded floor." Iain explained as they entered the lab and walked towards a metal work table set in the centre of the room, sat upon it was the book Iain had found...in the daylight it seemed even more ominous then it had at night. The book was old, it's leather spine was creased along the edges, the brown leather was stained in places, the pages inside the book had yellowed and there was a slightly musky odor to it. Ben and Tommy studied the book. Tommy began to reach for it but retracted his hand.
"You sure this thing...it isn't gonna make my flesh fry or anything?" Tommy asked...understandably worried.
"I carried that thing down last night and nothing happened." Iain replied.
"Oh...okay." Tommy replied.
"I do suggest..." Iain interrupted. "That you wear these." He held out a pair of rubber gloves to Tommy who took them, slid them on and then gently lifted the cover of the book. Inside were lines upon lines of written scrawl in a language Tommy didn't even have a hope of comprehending.
"You talked to 'Spooky' about seeing if he can work this out?" Tommy asked.
"Not yet...I was hoping to catch him before we knocked off though." Iain replied, he then seemed to vanish into thought for a few minutes. "I don't like it."
"Don't like what?" Ben asked.
"This." He gestured at the book. "Anything which has a PKE level large enough to fry a 'meter is bad news...you remember that casefile...it was the eighties...the New York office was on a call to a woman who might've known something about some weird goings on in the New York area...and there was a piece of paper that caused Professor Spengler's PKE Meter to explode."
"I think I know the one you mean." Ben replied.
"Do you have any idea what language it's written in? From the cover I can tell it's not written in English." Tommy asked.
"I've cross referenced it with the online translators...it had Google stumped...I've even gone through all of my books and the only thing it seemed to match was...well...Sumerian...and I'd be lucky if I knew what 'Sumerian' was in Sumerian." Iain replied honestly. "But I can't tell if it's actually Sumerian...while some of the characters are the same if it is the same language then it's written in something older then my books cover."
"I can see why you're hesitant, Iain." Tommy replied, turning to face Iain. "What do you want to do?" He asked.
"Well...I don't want to do anything until I get Vincent's opinion on this." Iain replied honestly.
"Opinion on what, exactly?" A voice asked, making all three Ghostbusters visibly jump.
"Jesus...Vincent." Tommy replied, catching his breath.
"Yes, I have that effect on people," Vincent grinned as he strode over to join his fellow Ghostbusters. "What do we have here?"
"A book." Ben replied bluntly.
"Which makes PKE Meters burn." Tommy added. Vincent raised an eyebrow in curiosity.
"Really?" He replied, he extracted a pair of rubber gloves from a box full of them, slipped them on and began to study the book underneath Iain's illuminated magnifying glass. "Yes...indeed..." Vincent commented. "Most definitely..." He continued. "Uh-huh." He replied, pointing to a passage in the strange script. "Fascinating!" Vincent exclaimed, much to the chagrin of his fellow Ghostbusters. Tommy coughed loudly to get Vincent's attention.
"Oh! Beg my pardon." He turned to face them, taking a moment to wipe his glasses. He then folded his arms across his chest as he turned his full attention to them. "It's amazing! It's a grimoire!" he said excitedly.
"A grim-what?" Tommy asked with a quizzical look.
"No...Grimoire...this is only an educated guess, as I'm not as well versed in this particular dead language as some...but from the dialect...the accent...the spelling and the style of script...I'd hazard a guess and say it's Sumerian...however I'd want a second opinion before I'd put it in writing." Vincent explained, as he paced the room.
"I'm making a very wild guess there's only one expert in Sumerian that we readily know." Iain asked.
"Do you need to even guess the name?" Vincent replied with a wry smile.
"I suppose not." Iain replied thoughtfully.
"I recommend you send a message to Head Office as soon as possible...we need to communicate this discovery in the likely event this becomes something bigger then it already suggests." Vincent added.
"Yeah...I'll get Junior onto it..." Ben replied, he then left the room.
"This discovery does concern me though..." Vincent replied as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"Iain was saying the exact same thing." Tommy replied. "How did a book written in Sumerian end up in our loft?" Tommy asked.
"That is as worrying a question as to where it came from." Vincent agreed.
(8:54pm)
"Dad...there may be a problem." Ben King Jnr spoke as he entered the lab.
"What kind of problem?" Ben asked.
"You know how NTL is our internet service provider?" Ben King Junior asked.
"Yeah." Ben King Sr. replied.
"Well I just tried to connect to the internet and then go onto the company's Hotmail account...and it wasn't working. I tried a few more times, checked the connections...everything was sound so I rang up NTL's hotline..."
"And?" Tommy asked.
"Seems some...'skilled' workmen managed to slice through a cable while doing some work at Stansted Airport...the entire NTL service for the south east has been disrupted."
"What?" Iain asked incredulously.
"Yeah..." Ben replied. "They said they were hoping to get the regular service back up by tomorrow evening...but it means we can't contact head office." Ben King Jnr informed them.
"That rules out the new software the tech staff at GBIweb have been working on...for the moment." Vincent replied thoughtfully.
"Marvelous." Tommy muttered. "So we can't communicate this to New York until tomorrow evening...and that's only a possible estimate?" He asked in disbelief.
"I guess so." Ben replied grumpily.
"It's times like this where I swear we should've gone with BT." Tommy replied irritably. "But what if that thing starts causing other things to burst into flames?" He asked, pointing at the book.
"It's a chance we're gonna need to take." Iain replied honestly.
"I can set up some magical wards to prevent anything else going into the waste disposal from spontaneous combustion...however...all we can do for the moment apart from that is try to perform some translation work...and try to find out this book's origins...we'll need to find who brought it here and if it was here when this building was operating as a institution." Vincent concluded.
To Be Continued
Semi-Standard Disclaimer:
Ghostbusters is owned by Columbia/Sony; Created by Dan Aykroyd and Harold Ramis. Developed for television by J. Micheal Straczynski
Ghostbusters West Coast created by Vincent Belmont and Andy Harness; Characters are owned by their respective creators
Ghostbusters UK, Ghostbusters Arcane Division, ECTO Canada, Ghostbusters Nightsquad owned by their respective creators
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