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Chapter 293: Goose Girl

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"I, Technus-!"

"Shhhhhhh," hissed several ghosts, humans, and liminals.

(It was alright for Jazz to count herself and Tucker, at least, as liminals, right?)

"None of you are any fun," complained Technus. "In any case, I have acquired the footage." He waved his hand at the computer screen he had just pulled himself out of.

"Great," said Tucker, ducking under Technus and pulling up a video player. "Okay, Dmitri, come over here. I'm going to section this footage off by half hour chunks, so if you can tell me when the evil jar—"

"I thought they were more vases, myself," said Technus.

"If you can tell me when it isn't there anymore, that'd be helpful," said Tucker.

"What else did you need me for?" asked Technus.

"Other than the internet thing when we get back? Just this," said Tucker, distracted.

"We might have you help Tucker with hacking some more emails, though," said Jazz. She wasn't sure if Technus would be disappointed if he was called to help with something so 'minor,' or if he'd be relieved, so splitting the difference was probably the best option.

Technus frowned, the motion stretching oddly at the skin around his glasses. "You aren't looking for other copies of this?"

"We have like, fifty of these jar thingies," said Tucker.

"No, not those. Copies of the program! I would never let my work rest on a single backup, if I had any other option! Especially if I was just going to give one away." He gestured at the computer, where Tucker was now watching a woman in a suit retrieve one of the vases.

Tucker turned away from the computer.

"You mean—"

"Other anchors!" exclaimed Wes. "Oh my gosh, I feel so stupid."

"What," said Jazz. "Why? None of the rest of us thought about it, and Sojourn's thousands of years old."

"But I'm supposed to be the one with common sense!"

Ernesto Montez cleared his throat. "Since when?"

"But," said Dmitri, "doesn't that mean we're never going to be sure if we've got them all?"

"I guess so! I really guess so!" said Wes, pulling at his hair.

Jazz sighed. Wes… Wes needed therapy.

"It's too bad the Regency Council didn't decide to kill that man," said the Chef, putting a hand to her face. "It would have made this so much easier."

"I don't know about that," said Tucker. "At the least, you guys would have had to tell the president about Freakshow being dead and all. I don't think anyone would have taken it as a loss, but still. Talk about an awkward conversation topic."

"I, for one," said Sojourn, "do agree with the council's decision. And I'm not just saying that as a person who happens to be on it. Dealing with this is difficult enough now. Imagine waiting for Freakshow's ghost to form as well."

Sam shuddered. "Yeah, I'm going to do a hard pass on that one. Been there, done that."

"What do you mean, been there, done that?" demanded Wes. "Did you kill someone?"

"No," said Sam. "But Freakshow did get his hands on a reality warping piece of jewelry, turned himself into a ghost, and generally made a lot of trouble, once."

"It took us ages to fix things," said Tucker, pushing up his glasses. "In the meantime, he was holding all our families hostage. It was a whole mess."

"I don't remember that," said Pamela. "If I'd been held hostage by that madman before, I believe I would remember it."

"You wouldn't," said Jazz. "It was during the summer that didn't happen."

Pamela rubbed her eyes. "Why do I even bother anymore?"

"Because you love us?" suggested Sam.

"I love you, dear."

"The summer- the whole summer- that didn't happen?"

"It was actually just June," said Jazz. "Summer before last. You remember, the one where the spatial anomalies and 'blips' multiplied?"

"I've changed my mind, I don't want to know about this. How do I erase this from my brain?"

"You could try some Lethean waters," said the Chef. "That would erase all your memories from your brain, though."

"But the anchor," said Dmitri, distressed. "What are we going to do if there's more than one?"

"Well," said Jazz. "We'll just have to do our best to find them."

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It was a beautiful day in the Ghost Zone!

The bears were swimming peacefully through the air. No geese were on the lawn. Will-o-the-wisps were lazily processing ectoplasm. Research into Freakshow's mind control was proceeding at a reasonable pace. Ellie had come back from her working vacation to Elysium (with souvenirs!). Walker's prison was pulling up next to the Regency Council's island. Soon, they'd be having a trial of the aglaophotis alternatives.

Sure, there were some negatives. Like still not knowing where Freakshow had put his 'anchor,' if there even was an anchor, and Tucker still being on Earth, playing spy with Technus, the Regency Council having a closed meeting to discus what to do about the US possibly having control of Freakshow's spell anchor and Truce celebration preparations (among other things, they said), and Dustin still not being comfortable enough with Danny to talk to him for more than half an hour… Okay, things could have been better.

Danny was trying to see the positive side of things.

But, regardless of what side of things he was seeing, he had things to do, people to see, chaos to sow—

Okay, not that last one. It was just funny in his head. He was allowed.

"You seem really nervous about meeting with Walker. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," said Danny. "We just haven't had many positive interactions, and I'm really relying on him to take care of all of Freakshow's victims. I'm worried that I'll mess this up."

"I don't think you'll mess it up," said Damien. "You're going to be fine."

"I know, I know."

"He can't do anything to you. You're basically his boss, now." Damien paused, then smiled slowly, showing a sharp crescent of teeth. "And if he does try anything, he won't like the results. Why are you looking at me like that?"

"No reason. I'm just wondering how likely all of us siblings sharing the same lair is. Because you're a lot like one of the shadows there."

"The coolest one, I hope."

"Sure," said Danny. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Worse come to worse, he could rewind things.

Maybe. He was still working the kinks out of that power.

Regardless, all he was doing today was introducing some of the scientists to Walker and letting them demonstrate how to administer the aglaophotis substitutes to the test cases. That was it. He wasn't even going to be in Walker's prison. They were doing this in Libra.

Why was he so nervous about this? He hadn't been this nervous the last time he'd had a fight with Walker. He hadn't been this nervous the last time he'd broken out of Walker's prison, for that matter. Was it really just because it was a social situation? Social situations sucked.

(Maybe he should have asked Hemlock to be here, but he felt bad taking his time up with things that weren't entirely legal matters.)

They reached the meeting room they'd borrowed for the occasion. They were, as planned, the first ones there. Then the scientists came in and started setting up.

There was a lot of set up.

"I thought there were only three aglaophotis alternatives," said Danny, peering at the various beakers.

"There are," said a scientist. "But we've also got regular aglaophotis, and multiple delivery methods and concentrations. Our volunteers tested each type, but we want to test out the efficacy of each option among victims as well. If one version is better, or even easier to administer, we want to know."

"That makes sense," said Danny. "What are the different delivery methods?"

"We have two oral methods, various concentrations of injection, a vapor method, a patch, and an ointment."

"Be careful of the ointment," said another scientist. "It's more like glue."

"They all have their ups and downs," admitted the first scientist. "For example, the orals are going to be difficult. No swallow reflex for ghosts."

"If they even have a throat," said Ellie, pushing the door open with her throat. "Hey, guys, guess what I got roped into?"

"Moving stuff?"

"Moving stuff," said Ellie, nodding. "There's still a bunch back where these guys put their lab that they want to bring over."

"Oh," said Danny. "This isn't it? We can help." He gestured at himself and Damien. "We aren't doing anything."

The scientists got very flustered and pointed out that they were waiting for Walker, so they really didn't have to, maybe even shouldn't, leave, but Danny wanted, needed, a nice, simple, physical, tangible thing to accomplish. Besides, it was way too early for Walker to show up.

Boxes, even boxes of glue-like mind-control antidote, weren't very hard to carry. Although, Danny had to wonder why they needed so many. Maybe that was another downside to the 'ointment' version. It needed a lot to work.

A shadow swept over them.

Danny stopped. "Did you see that?"

"Yep," said Damien, eyes narrowed. "Is Johnny supposed to be down here."

"I don't think there are any particular rules about where Johnny is or is not supposed to be."

"Maybe there should be," said Damien.

Danny shrugged. "Check your box?"

"If he's broken anything…"

"We'll deal with it if it happens," said Danny. In the meantime, nothing seemed to be out of place. Maybe, for once, Shadow hadn't broken anything.

… Yeah, that didn't seem likely to Danny, either.

Nonetheless, they continued down the hallway.

"Were these doors closed before?" asked Damien.

"No," said Danny. "Want to bet that they're locked, now?"

"I don't have any money."

"You don't have to bet with money."

"I own, like, five things."

"Or things."

"We don't have any chores."

"Or chores."

"… Dessert?"

"It isn't like we're limited in how much we can take. We probably should be, though."

"Yeah, we're getting kind of spoiled on the dessert front. Bragging rights?"

"Yeah, I'll do bragging rights."

The door was, of course, locked.

"We can phase through," pointed out Damien.

"Yeah, but can this stuff?"

"Hm, good point. Around we go?"

"Around we go."

"And next time, I get to throttle Johnny."

"Please don't. Come on, it's a much longer path." Danny started backtracking. He wasn't as familiar with the other hallways in this area. It would suck if they got lost and were late. Walker would be insufferable.

Luckily, there were no more encounters with Shadow or Johnny, and they made good time. At least, until they were within sight of the meeting room.

Several things happened at once. Danny stepped into an intersection. Walker also stepped into the intersection. Johnny's Shadow swept over the intersection. All the lights in the hallways went out, leaving only a natural ectoplasmic glow to navigate by. Dan screamed "Johnny Thirteen, I am going to murder you!" at a volume that was not at the top of his considerable range, but still quite loud enough to break glass. Walker gearing up for a fight, reasonably enough, swelled in size. Damien, not at all used to so many different and alarming things happening at once, startled, running into Danny, who, in turn, ran into Walker.

This wouldn't have mattered nearly so much if Dan's scream hadn't shattered so many of the glass jars the ointment was being contained in. As it was, Danny found himself firmly adhered to both his own and Damien's boxes. Damien seemed to be having similar trouble.

The other side of Danny's box was, of course, stuck to Walker.

This was going to be fun.