Meanwhile
October 11th, 2020 – Antarctica.
It was a bright clear blue sunny day as a snowcat plowed across the snow covered plains. The vehicle had done this for roughly two hours since leaving the base at the edge of the western peninsula. Its destination could not be too far inland unless the driver's electromagnetic reading GPS was completely off.
"You think we're going to be there soon?" Stan asked, "I can feel my bones starting to freeze."
"It shouldn't be too far now," Ford replied, "I'm guessing that this anomaly will be underneath near one of the ice caves our scout drone found earlier. Besides, I at least had the heater fixed in this thing last night. Aren't you feeling it?"
"Yeah," Stan groaned, "But the stupid thing can only do so much."
"Wait," Ford said, "I think this is it." He stopped the snowcat and immediately rushed out to see the entrance of a beautiful blue and white cavern. He pressed a button on his wrist, bringing up the hologram map to show that this was indeed his destination. "Ha! I was right."
"What's so important down there?" Stan asked indignantly, "It better be something to the equivalence of a gold mine."
"It's actually more of something I hope doesn't reach the surface," Ford said, "But we need to examine the status of it and assess how much of a threat it could be. I know the US Government has their Mt. Rushmore deterrent, but I don't believe it's going to suffice." And upon saying that, Ford's phone immediately received an IM; it was from none other than PoorlittlerichNWgirl.
It read:
Ford, thank you for finally giving me Dipper's real name; I know I pestered you about that for years, but I wouldn't have felt right otherwise not knowing. Anyways, we had a good night last night...I'll just leave it at that. We're heading to the facility now. I'll let you know the status of our visit or if we find anything unusual. Hope you and your brother's new expedition goes well. Thanks again.
"Good on you, Mason," Ford said to the air.
"Okay, so what do we do if this oh-so-important-thing-that-should-not-come-out...comes out?" Stan asked, "What are WE going to do about it?"
"I can at least warn the Pentagon about any immediate threat," Ford responded, "I have no doubt FBI director Cole will get his top agents on it...as long as he can still hear me."
"Ha, I guess your time at McGucket Industries allowed you to make nice with them," Stan chuckled.
The two made their way into the cavern, flashlights readied. There was a narrow slope leading down into a blackened, gaping maw. The two proceeded with extreme caution as to not slip. Even still, Stan's nose began to tingle, causing him to sneeze and immediately lose his balance. He fell and rolled into Ford, and despite the spiked treads in his shoes, the two began rolling down the slope further into the blackness and off a small cliff. They then landed on a troupe of penguins who had found their way down there, one letting out a loud squawk as Ford landed on it.
"Ugh, I think I need another hip replacement now," Stan groaned, trying to sit up. Ford began sitting up, too, letting the penguin on which he landed free. It stood there, looking him in the face, and after a moment of silence, gave an indignant squawk before belly-flopping and diving into a nearby watery opening in the cave floor. The other penguins followed suit and were gone. Ford decided that this must have been how they had arrived there to begin with but wasn't about to dwell on it too hard.
"Sure you're going to be okay?" Ford asked.
"Are YOU going to be okay?" Stan threw the question back at him, "You're not in top shape either, you know."
"I just know I've got to find this thing," Ford replied, "I'll pay the medical bills later." The two arose and continued through the darkened cave made of pure ice. Ford continued to wonder how long it would be before global warming would cause all of this to melt and flood the planet, but he pushed the thought out of his head and tried to concentrate on where he was putting his feet.
Stan continued to wonder what the hell could be so important that they would risk life and limb for this. Sure, even in his mid seventies, he could easily climb up to the roof and fix his satellite dish, but this was clearly much more strenuous. All he could think was that this had better be worth it.
After climbing several small landings, they eventually came to what looked like a dead end. Ford looked up and saw a small opening in the ceiling. Stan gave a slight nod to one shoulder, indicating he was ready to give his brother a boost to reach it. He cupped his hands, ready for Ford to take a step.
"By the way, how did you get the funds for this trip?" Stan asked, "This expedition couldn't have come entirely out of the McGucket budget."
"Funny story that," Ford replied, stepping into his brother's hand and then reaching up to the cave opening, "I ran into Cathy Crenshaw a few weeks ago."
"That girl who kept calling you a freak through middle and high school?"
"Yes," Ford continued as he pulled himself through the opening in the ceiling, "She ran into me on my last visit to New Jersey. I was in a coffee shop, and she recognized me and struck up a conversation. I guess it must have been my hands that gave me away. She then profusely apologized to me about her behavior when we were young. She invited me back to her estate, which she inherited from her late husband, who just so happened to be involved in Antarctic research. I told her I had plans for going to Antarctica fairly soon, and she agreed to fund the project." Ford leaned down and pulled Stan through the opening in the cave's ceiling. As Stan gained his footing, Ford continued. "We then talked for a little bit, and she went on to continue to apologize about how she couldn't have seen the potential in me before, simply judging me by my deformity. And then...um..." Ford trailed off. It was one of the few times he was at a loss for words.
"You remembered your Viagra, right?" Stan asked, giving a chortle.
"Anyways, moving on," Ford said, and the two continued through the cave. On a curved, upward slope, Ford thought he could see some light. His GPS began making an even louder beep as well. Whatever it was, it was close. The two readied their pickaxes and climbed upward to the beautiful blue light shining inward and off of the ice. It looked like the entrance to some fantastic crystal palace.
As the two reached the top of the slope and began to climb over, the immediately found that it led to another steep slope and fell downward, this time sliding a bit more smoothly, allowing for less painful chaos. They then found themselves in a colossal blue and white crystalline ice chamber, the sun reflecting through it and giving the room a cool, calming essence. In the center of the room, several more penguins surrounded a large lake, and in the center of the lake was a gargantuan block of ice.
Covering the ice block were the creatures Ford recognized as Shoggoths. Through the centuries, they had evolved into smaller versions of their former selves, similar to the ones described in Michael Shea's writings on the Shoggoth Lords, as they tried to imitate the new forms of life in the current age. Right now, it looked as though they were eating away at the ice block, paying no attention to the two men or the penguins. There appeared to be a much larger object within the block, but Ford could not make out its shape.
"Well, this doesn't look good," Stan groaned, pulling himself to his feet, penguins squawking around him.
"I don't think they're interested in us," Ford replied, standing as well, "They want whatever is in the ice."
In an instant, there came a great rumbling, and the Shoggoth Lords scurried into the water. The ice block burst into pieces, some of which landed next to Stan and Ford, causing the penguins to scatter. When the ice dust cleared, the twins could see it was none other than Time Baby in the center of the ice who then let out a deep, guttural, ear-piercing "WHAAAAAAAA!"
"It's exactly what I feared," Ford stammered, removing his hands from his ears once the sound cleared, "The Time Baby the kids wrote about has emerged."
"You needn't worry, Stanford Pines," Time Baby answered, having recovered from his tantrum, "My regeneration and reawakening does not yet signal my time to reclaim this world as my own. I am here due to a possible anomaly within the fabric of your reality."
"What could this possibly mean?" Ford responded to the enormous infant who towered above him.
"Within the waters of what you humans call the Bering Strait," Time Baby began, "a group of Dagon followers have sought to bring the Great Old Ones into this realm."
"My facility..." Ford stammered.
"They have already begun their ritual," Time Baby continued, "Their leader, a man named Indrid, had enlisted five powerful psychics who he thought would have some possible strength in communicating to the entities across the void of our reality. Something has changed, however, and now the psychics are leading the charge. If they are able to succeed, it would no doubt cause a tremendous fissure in space-time."
"I trusted that man, but it seems he was just as crazy as the cultists he researched," Ford said, and then panicked, "The kids are headed there now."
"We gotta warn them," Stan replied, "Get them on he phone. They need to know what's going on there."
"You won't be able to reach them," Time Baby explained, "They have already crossed into the halfway point between this world and the next."
"What would you have us do?" Ford asked.
"I will need to face this creature myself," Time Baby said, "But my power has weakened, and I cannot transport to those co-ordinants."
"One of my employees is working on a transport device," Ford replied, "Let me check and see if it could possibly transport an object remotely." He then pulled out his phone and contacted the McGucket lab through video chat. Candy answered. "Candy, hello."
"Hello, Ford," Candy replied sweetly, "Staying warm on your trip though the ice caves?"
"Trying to, anyways," he answered, "How is Grenda's teleportation device coming? We need to know if it can remotely transport an object from one random global point to another."
"You mean, like on Star Trek?" Candy asked, raising an eyebrow, "I'm not sure that it's quite that advanced." There was a flash of light, causing Candy to look the other way. "I think she's back from her awesome castle round trip." There was an excitement to her tone. "BMO, if you please, check on our friend."
"Yes, Miss Chiu," a robotic voice very similar to her own replied, and the camera moved away from her, seemingly running to the side of the table and peering over at Grenda, who was now lying on the floor and attempting to stand.
"See, I wanted to surprise you all with that," Candy said.
"UGH," Grenda moaned, "I NEED TO WORK ON MY REENTRY!"
"Grenda, it's Ford," he said though the screen on BMO's face, "I can see your transporter works fantastically."
"WELL, ASIDE FROM IT TOSSING ME THROUGH IT LIKE VEGETABLES ON A STIR FRY PAN," she responded.
"Can we use it to transport objects from random locations?"
"IT'S NOT QUITE THAT ADVANCED. IT NEEDS AN ACCESS POINT IN ORDER TO LOCK ON TO OBJECTS. IF I HAD SOME SORT OF SATELLITE THAT COULD BEAM ANYTHING I WANTED ACROSS THE GLOBE..."
Ford had an idea.
"Hold that thought and let me call you back," he said and hung up.
"Who are you calling now?" Stan asked.
"An old contact," Ford retorted, "He is a fellow para-science enthusiast and a bit of a shut in. He also seems to have some access to alien technology similar to what I found in the bunker in Gravity Falls." There was an answer on the video feed. "Mothman, this is Sixer."
"Mr. Pines, it's been a long time," Dib Membrane replied.
"Indeed it has. Listen, we are working on a transport device, but we need it to be hooked to multiple orbital satellites. I know that you've used various monitoring satellites in the past. Could those be repurposed to use teleportation nodes?"
"Theoretically, that sounds possible," Dib said, "I'm not sure how well they would work for..."
"Dib, dear," another voice replied behind him came, "could that be Ford calling you?" The bluish indigo-haired woman poked her head over Dib shoulder. "Ford, is my husband telling you that my satellites aren't able to accomplish something?"
"Good morning, Tak," Ford responded and explained the plan again to her.
"Ha," Tak laughed, "You would be amazed how seamlessly Irken technology can adapt to your primitive devices. This task will be ridiculously elementary. I will have no problem attaching these receivers to our orbital monitors. Give me an hour, and I can fly to each one."
"Thank you both so much for your help," Ford said graciously, "Please call this number and let them know that I sent you." He then gave Tak the number for Candy and Grenda's lab and disconnected the call.
"Wow, she sounds pleasant," Stan groaned sarcastically.
"She's much more charming once you get to know her," Ford said, "Irkens are a very proud but interesting group." He turned his attention to Time Baby. "We thank you, Time Baby, for your assistance in this grave matter."
"And your assistance in leading me out of this icy prison is also appreciated, puny human," Time Baby replied, "Now, I request that you now provide me with 10 gallons worth of cow's milk."
"I regret to say that we did not bring that with us," Ford responded.
Time Baby then let out another ear-piercing cry. Through the noise, Ford tried to focus and sent a text to Grenda to send as much milk as they could as part of the first teleportation test.