Sorry, no responses to reviews this week... Dannymay is wearing me out a bit. :) I hope you all are enjoying the stories. Thank you for sending reviews, they make me happy.
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Chapter 198: Image to Truth
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As predicted, the sword, the Calesvol, did not want to come. It had been having a merry time in the outreaches of Logres-Prydain in the hands of some Neverborn child-thing. The child had been no matter, brushed aside like the trash it was. It was not one of the kings or great souls the Calesvol was so famed for serving.
It was, however, an excellent hostage for the blade's cooperation.
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"Can I ask a question?" asked Ellie, over Pandora's teasing.
Danny looked up towards where she floated. He had questions, too, and he felt a little miffed that Ellie had gathered the social courage to interrupt Pandora and Clockwork before him. She apparently noticed this and stuck her tongue out at him.
"Of course," said Pandora, a smile playing over her face.
"Why don't you, you know, use this stuff?" she asked. "Instead of, well…"
"Leaving it here where it can be stolen?" finished Pandora.
If the men in charge of guarding the room had possessed boots, they would have been shaking in them.
"Yeah. That."
"Oh, because everything in here is cursed and-" Pandora stopped, then her head swiveled to Danny. "The coins!"
Clockwork gasped, and suddenly both were on Danny.
Well, not on him. But close. He flinched in surprise but did not pull back when Clockwork and Pandora each pick up one of Danny's arms and start examining the odd, discolored marks the coins had left.
"What is it?" asked Danny. Their intensity worried him, but at this point he was just resigned.
"I had almost forgotten you were hit," said Pandora. "They are supposed to be rather more dramatic."
"While you're talking about that," said Ellie, "how is this thing cursed?" She held the Nemean skin out at arm's length.
"If you wear it for too long, which Daniel will not be doing," she added, "it will either kill you painfully or turn you into a lion."
"Oh," said Danny. "That sounds like so much fun." If he had wanted to pass on wearing it before…
Ellie dropped it.
"It takes a very long time to reach that point," said Pandora, reprovingly.
"And the coins?" prompted Danny.
"They are supposed to make any one of the Dead who touches one assume the appearance they had in the moment of their death."
Danny looked at the discolored marks on his suit. White where there should be black. Black where there should be white. Ashy gray around his left hand. A faint green glow almost drowned out by the natural luminance of their surroundings. His mouth went dry, and he ignored the urge to pull at his hair to check its color.
"They also wear off," said Pandora.
"Okay, cool," said Danny. "Is there… Is there something in them that makes you not, um, feel pain?"
Danny was immediately dragged off to Pandora's healers.
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"Oh," said Clockwork, a musical lilt of realization in his voice, exactly the kind Danny got when he'd had an epiphany.
Danny had rarely heard it from Clockwork. He scrunched up his face as he wondered if he had ever heard it from Clockwork and wished that Clockwork had had his revelation earlier. Preferably before Pandora's doctors had started poking him with things to test his reflexes and nerves. Or at least before one of them had managed to catch him off-guard with a jab to the back of his neck and he had almost blasted her.
(He felt bad about that.)
"What is it?" he asked, trying to mask how put out he felt about this whole thing. He zipped his suit back up.
"Inanna's breastplate."
Danny's frown deepened, and he slid off the examination table. He and Clockwork were the only ones in the room at the moment, as the doctors had retreated to confer.
"What about it?"
"That's what this is."
"No...?" said Danny. "I mean, it isn't here. Nephthys still has it, as far as I know."
"You misunderstand. You absorbed a portion of its power when it was inside you. Your core must have learned it."
"No," said Danny, firmly. "That's not possible. Because the mind control necklace was in me for a lot longer than that, and I don't want anything to do with that. Or turning into a dragon, come to think of it."
"I do not believe you have to worry about gaining powers from the Amulet of Mattingly," said Clockwork. "You already have shapeshifting powers, after all, even if they are immature at the moment."
"I have what."
"Ah," said Clockwork, raising an eyebrow. "Surely you've noticed?"
Danny cast his thoughts back. There was his transformation, but that was just a half-ghost thing, not really shapeshifting per se. There had been all his failed duplication attempts. That was sort of shapeshifting, he supposed, especially when he got extra working limbs. There had been Dan's disguise. What else could he count as-
Oh. Yeah. That. Sam and Tucker usually called it Body Horror Plus, or Oh MY GOSH, Danny, Learn to Dodge Already.
He started to blush.
"Okay, yeah. Sure. Shapeshifting. Okay. But the mind control?"
"I am… Uncertain. But as a ghost, you cannot develop a power inimical to your Obsessions."
That was a relief. "But there's got to be another explanation. It can't be that easy to get new powers, otherwise everyone would do it."
"You do recall the trouble Pandora and Dorathea went to the first time you ate an artifact? I would hardly call that easy, Daniel, even if it was necessary to teach your core how to handle such things." Clockwork sighed. "But if you are dead-set against the idea, the cloak Sojourn gave you may have similar properties."
"Nooo, you're not allowed to make death puns. You make time puns," complained Danny, relaxing at the perfectly reasonable explanation. He pulled the mentioned cloak tight around his shoulders.
"All puns have their time, Daniel. It could also be the crown augmenting your powers, but…" Clockwork's lips turned down. "You do not have the ring. Yet. So, it should not be that." He sighed. "I fear I can only give you possibilities, not certainties."
"That's fine," said Danny. "That's more than most people could give in this situation, right? I mean, everything is always crazy, but…" He trailed off and waved his arms around. "Right?"
So, he wasn't very eloquent today. So, sue him.
"Quite right," said Clockwork, patting Danny's arm.
The motion was so stereotypically grandfatherly that Danny had to grin. The smile faded as he heard footsteps leading up to the door and then a knock.
"Come in," he said, voice lilting up at the end.
One of the healers came in, the one Danny had almost blasted, with an apologetic look on her face. "You seem to be fine," she said. "Still recovering from previous injuries, and a good deal of stress, but otherwise fine. Nothing is vitally wrong with you."
"Oh," said Danny. "That's good."
"We are writing up a detailed report that will be sent to you as soon as it is finished, but, in the meantime, you are free to go." As she spoke, her eyes drifted up Danny's face and to the top of his head.
Danny knew what she was looking at. The crown. He looked away from her a caught his reflection in a mirror that hung over the examination room's sink. The crown wasn't currently a crown, coronet, or diadem. On the other hand, it had grown quite a bit larger and fancier than the typical barrette and was well on its way to becoming a tiara, albeit a rather fey and asymmetrical one.
"Speaking of mirrors," said the healer, lightly, "apparently there's been some trouble with the one shattered in the vaults. I have had a few people come begging your pardon for asking you to see to it, Lord Clockwork."
"Oh?"
"Yes, but I thought it best if you were undisturbed while we examined your…" She trailed off. "While we examined Phantom. Forgive me if I overstepped."
"No, your judgment was sound," said Clockwork. He pursed his lips. "But I should see to it. Thank you for," he hesitated, just for a fraction of a second, "your reminder." He nodded at the woman and slid past her to reach the door.
When they were outside, he turned to Danny. "In the normal course of things, I would be urging you to go rest, but I do not want you out of my sight."
"I don't think even Issitoq would attack again so soon," said Danny. "Not here, in Elysium. I mean, he wasn't even attacking this time. He was sneaking around and stealing things." He paused. "Okay, I'll admit it, I'm being dumb. He's nuts. He'll attack whenever he wants to, and so will anyone else, and I'm a trouble magnet, I get it."
Clockwork made a face. "I hate to admit it," he said, "but at this juncture, it is as much for my own sanity as your safety that I ask you to stay near."
Worry rose up Danny's spine and buzzed in his brain. "Are you feeling alright?" The question really wasn't enough, wasn't accurate, didn't get at the heart of the matter, just like when Sam and Tucker asked Danny that question. Even so, everyone involved knew the real meaning.
"I am well enough," said Clockwork, patting Danny's arm again as they stepped out of the healers' hall. "I would not lose awareness of what is around me, but I would become… anxious, I believe, imagining what might become of you. You are, as you said, a trouble magnet."
"The best," agreed Danny. "Ellie might come close, though." Ellie had gone to the healers with them, but she'd been affected by fewer artifacts, and had taken Pandora's offer to shadow her while she went about matters of state.
Clockwork hummed in agreement.
There were a great many more people at the vaults than before. Mostly guardsmen, but also servants desperately trying to clean up the mess that had been left in the vaults. One of them was trying to melt the ice coating the walls with what looked like Greek fire. Danny winced. He had forgotten about the ice, and it looked like Ellie had, too.
Well, he could take care of it now.
He and Clockwork strolled the rest of the way up the steps and were greeted by a stiff and excruciatingly formal challenge from one of the guards. Pandora had made her displeasure concerning Issitoq's break-in known.
They were, however, let by. Clockwork went at once to the shards of glass still hanging in midair, examining them with a critical eye. Danny flew over to the ghosts working on the ice and offered his help. He didn't want to just melt it, when that would cause an extra mess that needed to be cleaned up.
It took a while, but eventually all the ice was outside, in neat little paving-stone-sized chunks, and Danny started to walk over to Clockwork, idly taking the hand lens out of his pocket as he did so. Started, because a beam of light from the overhead fixture struck the lens, and somehow bounced over to the mirror shards hanging in the air. The light fragmented, dividing itself over and over again until it formed a hologram.
A hologram of Fentonworks.
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The D2218 was not especially large, when compared to some of the other equipment the GIW had hauled to Amity Park. It was, however, too large to be carried by one person. Were the agents of the GIW less muscular, it would have been too heavy for two.
Most of the Fentons' furniture had been removed or destroyed by now. The hideous and disgusting couch had been burned. The tables had been smashed and examined for secret compartments. The cushions embroidered with arcane designs had been cut open and sent to the main GIW research facility.
This meant that the sleek white bulk of the D2218 stood proudly against the backdrop of the living room's bare but stained walls and far enough from them for the technicians to putter around it, tweaking this bit, tightening that. The head scientist stood by, tapping his foot impatiently.
The D2218 was a fantastic invention. Like many of the GIW's more effective tools, it was made from the remains of ghosts. A masterpiece. Unique.
But this was why they needed the Fentons' blueprints. The Fentons had produced effective weaponry and heaven only knew what else before so much as seeing a ghost. The GIW needed that, needed to be able to mass-produce anti-ghost weapons, especially now that their strike force didn't seem to be coming back. The scientist was no tactician, but that little fact suggested to him that the ghosts were more powerful or more organized than previously expected. The GIW's long-standing secret war with those extra-dimensional monsters was about to erupt into the public eye.
Well. Technically speaking, it had already done so when Phantom kidnapped those students. Convenient of him, letting the GIW take the moral high ground.
The scientist sighed at the thought of Phantom. The ghost had caught his eye back when he had first appeared. Its deviant behavior was fascinating. He and a few of the other scientists had made a competition of drafting weaponization proposals, just in case Phantom was captured intact. For after thorough examination and lots and lots of painful experiments, of course. There were just so many options.
Taking Phantom apart to use in multiple machines was the typical route. That was what happened to most ghosts, including the ones that went into the D2218. But that was boring. The proposals involving using Phantom whole were more interesting. One younger colleague had suggested using Phantom as a permanent power source for a GIW base, a power source that could be stimulated to provide shielding or project other abilities. The boy had worked out the wiring it would require. That had been inspired.
Even so, it was the scientist's opinion that the proposal he had written with the help of his wife, also a GIW scientist, was the best one. Perhaps the most difficult. What he proposed had never been done before, and many of his fellows thought that ghostly Obsessions and magical artifacts were nothing more than the imaginings of amateurs. Even with Frederich Isak Showenhower in custody. If Phantom could be brought under GIW control, it would be a far better weapon than if it were cut up into pieces or shoved into a box. The scientist had seen what Phantom could and did do to other ghosts.
The scientist hoped that, if he were successful here, he would be allowed to explore options for… domesticating a ghost, so to speak. He had several methods he believed would be effective…
"We're done, sir," said one of the technicians, jolting the scientist from his daydream.
"It's operational? Fully?" asked the scientist.
"Yes, sir. Would you like to turn it on? Once we calibrate it, it should be able to detect any unusual concentrations of ectoplasm in this building, provided that another source doesn't drown it out."
"Go ahead," said the scientist, flicking his hands.
The technician grinned and pulled the lever. A deep groan sounded from inside the machine, and then fell silent.
"Is that supposed to happen?" asked the scientist.
"Oh, yes, sir, just the ghosts in the machine, as it were," said the technician, cheerfully.
"How long will it take to calibrate?" asked the scientist.
"Not long, though we might have our work cut out for us, trying to get it to ignore that basement." The technician shook his head mournfully. "We've never run the D2218 near an ectoplasm source that large and persistent."
The scientist grunted, watching the technician work over his shoulders. The other technicians started to come around to watch as well, crowding the scientist somewhat. He bore it. They had the right to see the fruits of their labors as much as he did.
The screen began to light up in shades of green. The technician adjusted a few levers, then waited a few minutes, then repeated the process. Finally, he hit a button and leaned back.
"There," he said, pleased. "Ectoplasm hotspots overlaid with a wire diagram of this building. Considering how sensitive this baby is, you'll likely get a lot of nothing, natural eddies and such, but that's how it is with ghosts in general, isn't it?"
"I suppose," agreed the scientist. He frowned at the diagram. "Can you rotate it?"
"Yes, sir."
Hotspots (or should he call them cold spots, considering the general temperature of ectoplasm?) littered the building, making the diagram look like a splatter painting. Much of it was in expected places, the remnants of the house's defense systems, or in the lab. The kitchen was surprisingly bright. Or perhaps not so surprisingly, considering what had been lurking in the refrigerator.
There were several interesting places. The wall in the master bedroom, for instance, and in the upstairs hallway bathroom, around where the tub should be, if he recalled correctly. But what didn't make any sense were the blips in the daughter's room, and the blindingly huge spot in the son's room.
"Can you resolve that at all?" he asked, pointing. "Pinpoint its source?"
"Maybe," said the technician, worrying at his lower lip. "It might be easier if we were in the room." His gaze drifted to the stairs. "Will the D2218 fit?"
The scientist sighed. He would have to track down a few of the stronger agents assigned to him.
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The images in the hologram played out in high speed. Danny stood transfixed, not daring to move for fear that the image would be lost.
"What is that?" he whispered.
"Nothing good," hissed a nearby worker, and all the ghosts in the room snarled in agreement.
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The son's room had been searched thoroughly. The closet was open and bare, the door pulled off its hinges. Anything that could have been used as a hiding place had been dismantled and discarded. The remnants of rocket ship models built by a teenager (possibly a pre-teen in some cases) were not considered high value. There were, however, still a few crumpled posters on the floor, and the bedframe still sat against one wall.
Perhaps the Fentons had put one of the nodes of their defense system here. The main power source, perhaps? They had yet to find it, after all, even after knocking some very large holes in the walls.
This was a very strange place to put something like that, however. Weren't they at all worried about what this level of ectoplasmic radiation could do to their children?
The scientist snorted and rolled his eyes. No, if those two lunatics cared about that, they wouldn't have built the portal downstairs.
"Here we go," said the technician. "We're calibrated." He hit a few buttons, expanding the image on his screen. "It looks like the highest concentration is down there," he said, pointing into the closet. "Either the back wall or the floor near the wall. I can't resolve it any more than this. The source is too strong."
The scientist jerked his head at the two agents that had brought up the D2218. "Go look," he ordered.
The agents nodded, and took out their agency-approved wall cutters, and advanced on the closet. It was a close squeeze, but as they were clearly in the closet metaphorically speaking, and with each other, the scientist doubted they'd care.
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"No," whispered Danny. "No! They can't find-!" He twitched forward, and the ray of light moved off of the mirror shards. Danny tried to go back, to find where he had been standing, but it was no good.
He whipped his head around to face Clockwork. The older ghost looked shocked and grim.
"I have to go," said Danny. "You have to send me there. I have to- I can't let them take them, can't let them see them. Clockwork, please!"
"I can't," said Clockwork, spreading his hands. "My powers-" he broke off, curling his fingers. "It wouldn't do any good for you to go there, Daniel. Please, they would only capture you as well. If I could help them, I would, but…"
"No!" Danny shook his head vigorously. "I can't let them. I…"
Something stirred inside him and was answered by the crown.
Oh. Right. He had this power twice over. He could go anywhere he wanted.
Clockwork's eyes grew wide. He had caught on to what Danny was about to do.
"Daniel… Don't…"
"Sorry," said Danny. He really was. He didn't want to leave Clockwork after everything Clockwork had been through.
The portal opened under his feet and he was gone.
