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Here's the next chapter! Hope you like it!
Chapter Three: Discovery
Jack Fenton had been described in various magazine publications as spry, energetic, devoted, enthusiastic, and–as People magazine had once described it–possessed of a touch of eccentric charm.
He was acting eccentric today, but there was little charm in it. Instead, the semi-madness related to the incessant incompetence of the robots working on he and his wife's latest project: the Fenton Voyager.
At least, that's what Jake and Ellie were told by their father as the elevator slowed to a stop.
The sliding doors opened with a hiss, and the elevator's five occupants journeyed down a sterile hallway. There were various workers walking past them, clad in multicolored hazmat uniforms. Finally, they came upon a door marked:
FENTONWORKS RESEARCH & DEVELOPMENT DIVISION
The door opened, and the teens stared in amazement. Beyond a glass wall, dozens of people and robotic arms were at work piecing together what looked like an assortment of vehicles. In the center of the room was a dark-green hover-car with the roof cut open; two robotic arms were outfitting upgraded armor onto the top. Over to the right were two giant vehicles that resembled RV trailers. Both were enormous and sleek, as big as commuter buses, and outfitted with all sorts of scientific equipment and living quarters for four people. One of the trailers was nearly obscured by a shower of sparks cascading from an arc-welding arm. Despite all this activity, the vehicles looked mostly finished; yet everyone could see the upholstery lying on the floor.
"Looks like it's almost done," murmured Danny, floating over to another door. This one was marked:
WARNING: HAZMAT CONTAINED. DO NOT ENTER WITHOUT REQUIRED GEAR
Danny turned to his children and their friends. "Now, you guys will have to wear these hazmat uniforms." He pointed to a rack of uniforms on a nearby wall.
Jake took a uniform in his size; it was a glossy black, with white gloves, boots, collar, and belt. Ellie took another that was very similar, only the colors were inverted and the gloves reached three-quarters of the way up the arms. Chrissy and Dave chose two others in the same colors. Danny removed the coat of his Armani suit, exposing a similar black-and-white hazmat uniform.
Opening the door, Danny led the teens into the facility. The smell of ozone, lubricant, and fresh paint filled their noses. Across the room, a hulking bear of a man in a bright orange uniform was bellowing orders to a nearby worker.
"No, no! Look at the blueprints! Rick, you can't place the strut laterally! It has to be crosswise for strength! Doesn't anyone pay attention to these things anymore!"
All three Fentons in the group slapped their hands to their heads in exasperation.
Out of the showers of sparks, two figures emerged. One was a tall, shapely woman with sandy brown hair and amethyst eyes much like Jake's. The other was a bespectacled African-American man with various tools strapped to his belt and a handheld computer under his arm. Both were clad in jumpsuits: the woman blue, the man bright orange.
"Why hello, sweetie!" cooed the woman.
"Hello, Mom," replied Danny, his face turning red.
Dave and Chrissy snickered. Jake and Ellie were used to their grandmother acting this way; she cared for her children more than anything in the world. Judging from old family photographs, the twins had not seen much change in their grandmother's appearance through the years. This was the miracle of modern medicine: sixty-five had become the new thirty.
Danny turned to the man. "How's progress coming along, Tucker?"
"We've had some problems adapting the engines for extended flight," replied the man. "And the gyroscope's been malfunctioning; we can't get the onboard lab to stay still."
"That's not good," said Danny. "The deadline for the prototype is in two weeks. We have to produce a working Voyager to compete with that new Dalv Tank."
"Right." Tucker turned to the kids. "And how are you guys doing today?"
"Oh...just fine, Mr. Foley," replied Jake.
Danny then turned to his children. "Kids, this part gets pretty technical. How about you go over there and sit down?" He pointed to a row of chairs along a table near the chrome wall.
"Alright," both twins said grumpily. They had wanted to see these vehicles from the inside.
Stalking over to the chairs, the four teens sat down at the table as they heard their grandfather barking orders again. "Rick! Did you hear anything I said to you? Put it crosswise!"
That was Grandpa Jack, alright. A real pistol when it came to his work.
He had always been a bit of a bumbling oaf in everyone's eyes. His overeagerness far surpassed his already formidable intellect, and this often led to problems. Without Maddie and Tucker, the projects in the R&D Division might be blowing up on a daily basis. Not that this didn't occur. In fact, that was another reason Fentonworks didn't manufacture weaponry: it always resulted in a horrible accident.
Ignoring the sparks raining down from everywhere, Ellie got her essay out again and read it over.
Some ghosts tend to their affairs with very little, if any, interest in living beings. Others, however, are vile and malevolent specters that despise mortals and seek to hinder them whenever possible. In recent years, the discovery of naturally occurring ghost portals has not lessened the difficulty of exploring the Ghost Zone, the parallel dimension in which these beings reside.
The ectoplasm that composes a ghost body is a source of tangible energy found in the Ghost Zone. Using an imprint of post-mortem consciousness, this energy can create a physical form for a departed spirit. However, since the laws of physics in this dimension are different from those in the spectral dimension, ghosts are able to alter their ecto-bodies, becoming as tangible as living matter or a set of microparticles that bypass solid objects like liquid.
This energy also shapes a ghost's form, which usually resembles its former state in life. But, in most cases, the spectral form is somewhat altered. Some ghosts look kind and angelic, while others are distorted into horrible things. There is thought to be a connection between a ghost's appearance and its morality in life. However, this is not always the case, and any assumptions are dangerous.
"Well?" asked Dave. "Is it all you hoped?"
Ellie looked up from the paper, which she hadn't even finished reading. "Well...I guess."
"That's good," said Jake. "You'll need it to bring that D up."
"Hey! It's not my fault! I fell asleep!"
"That's exactly your fault."
Ellie glared at her brother. She didn't like History, and he knew that. Yet he seemed to have a penchant for forcing his critique upon her work.
Jake, in the meantime, took out Psychology of the Unconscious again, reading the book with a bored expression. Jack's bellow came from across the room, nearly drowned out by a large crack!
Turning around quickly, the four teens could see that a cloud of acrid smoke was rising out of the hood of a Voyager. Jack yelled, "Ground it! Ground that thing before you turn it on!"
The bear of a man strided over to the table and sat down, wiping his forehead with a dirty handkerchief. He, like his wife, had not changed much over the years.
"You know," he sighed, "these guys don't get it. That IGD is serious defense."
Chrissy looked puzzled. "IGD?" she asked.
"Internal Ghost Deterrent," explained Jack. "It sends the ectoplasmic equivalent of ten thousand volts across the Voyager's outer skin. Wham-o!" He made a punch in the air. "Takes the fight out of the baddest ghosts. But that kinda power'll blow those robotic arms right off their hinges. Item One-Sixty-One on the glitch list today." He sighed, perking up a few seconds later. "You kids wanna see the Voyagers?"
Everyone's expression brightened. They nodded in reply.
"Great! Follow me! Oh, and be careful."
Jack strode across the room, gesturing towards the equipment. The teens followed behind him. They saw the upholstery sitting outside, among different engine parts and components. It seemed to be made of synthetic leather, as it was waterproof and flame retardant towards the sparks.
Opening the door to one of the Voyagers, the kids were suitably impressed. While threadbare, the vehicles seemed to be designed for exploration and study. They were literally laboratories on repulsorlifts.
Jack explained it all. "For months we've been working on these things. Danny said that they had to be light and strong. Light and strong is not a good combination for something like this. But we're trying anyway with that IGD you just saw. The shell's made of a hard-test reinforced steel. The only thing that can cut through it isn't from this dimension. And the weapons systems–"
"What?" asked Jake. "I thought Dad said you weren't supposed to put weaponry in these."
Jack looked dejected. "Oh, alright. I'll tell Maddie and Tuck to take it out."
The twins knew better. Whenever Jack was told to take a piece out of his things that he believed was essential, he'd put it back in later and not tell anyone. Jake and Ellie were pretty sure that Danny knew about this. But he had never said anything, and Jack never brought it up.
"Whaddya think he'll keep?" asked Ellie. The arc welding robots were hard at work on the roof again.
"Dunno," replied Jake. "Probably the ecto-cannon, like last time."
Another loud crack! filled the air, and everyone did a double take. The cloud of haze coming from the roof of the vehicle was now very obscure. Green flashes of light surged across the skin of the Voyager. Robotic arms was still welding something in.
And, with a loud sound that sounded like a thunderclap, the arms were separated from their supports violently.
Surging with electrical power, they launched off the catwalk they were attached to like javelins. What was worse, was that they were heading right towards Jack and the kids.
Jack had taken notice of this, promptly yelling, "Get outta the–"
The bear of a man was silenced when the first arm connected with his head, sending him back into a steel work bench. The second arm was in the trajectory of the first, barreling towards the kids with its arc welder still on. Dave and Chrissy clutched onto their friends, certain that they were about to die.
Amid the haze of acrid smoke that was quickly filling the room, no one saw exactly what happened next.
Somehow, as if by a miracle, the flying arm passed through the teens like a mass of fog. It crashed behind them, impaling the car-like vehicle.
The four teens felt funny, as though they had been filled with cold water. Letting go of their friends, Jake and Ellie shivered, a bluish mist emerging from their mouths. The indescribable strain they were going through, coupled with that near-fatal accident, was too much.
As they collapsed on the floor, Jake and Ellie heard the shouts of terrified workers, and the calls of their father as the world became murky and dark...
Finally the plot takes shape! Please review!
Your sincerest regards,
Monsieur Caracal.