End of the Future
Chapter 7; Meeting (at the Other Side)
Please Read and Review. I'd like to know what I'm doing right (to keep doing it), and what I'm doing wrong (to correct it).
New York
Former Ghostbusters HQ
February the 9th, 1986
"Egon! What brings you here?" Ray Stantz opened the door, letting his colleague in.
"Hello, Ray. I received a very interesting letter. And I'd like to discuss its contents with you, if you have the time."
Ray scratched his head and checked his wristwatch, "Well... about forty minutes, I got a nice job managing a bookstore. Come up, I have a pot of coffee. Wanna breakfast?"
"So," Ray asked as he poured a second cup. "You got a grant, Uh?"
"Yes, I tried to convince the comitee to include you, but..."
Ray shrugged, "Don't worry, I know you tried. I appreciate it. To be honest, I'm a little wary of the academic side of things right now."
Egon Spengler shifted uncomfortably on his chair. "Ahem, yes. I'll try again next quarter. Now, about the reason for my visit, a few weeks ago, I got a curious letter from a Dr. Emmet L. Brown, from California. He has some questions about the specs of our proton packs. And has a proposal for us." He passed an envelope to Ray. "I made some discreet enquires about him, and he has the reputation of a complete crank in academic circles."
"One of us, Uh?"
"So it seems, but only in science. He was periferically related to some Top Secret research back in the late 1940s, he retired to his birth town in the 1950s, and since then, he has been working independently. Apart from quite a few eccentric projects that didn't work as intended, and which, confidentially, sound like ours; he has quite a few patents to his name. And he has an uncanny knack for discovering potential technological breakthroughs."
Ray glanced at the letter. Egon continued.
"He wants to cooperate with us. Based on his record, I calculate a probability of better than 89.57% he or his advisors have projected that the proton pack tech could have more applications than capturing ectoplasmic entities. Developing the proton pack tech into some kind of defibrillator that generates its own electric power, for example. That is something we never thought."
"But..."
"Ray," Egon leaned in, his eyes sparkling, "if this pans out, we could be at the forefront of truly revolutionary technology. With multiple applications."
"Umm... I..."
"Ray, right now, we four are drowning in debt. You and I hold the patent of the proton packs. Peter just wasted time trying to get laid. You and I did all the theoretical AND practical work. He didn't even sign on the patent papers. We can give him a share, but we have the rights to the patents, his input is not required."
"Yeah..." Ray looked down at the table.
"I can have a cousin of mine, recently graduated as a lawyer (1), draft a contract to protect our interests. Family discount, you know. Louis can manage the finance side. If this doesn't pan out, we keep the rights to our tech and all we lose is a little time. But if we can convert our nuclear accelerators into everyday technology... we would be..."
"Um... listen, Egon, I... I need to think things through. The bank repossessed my house and... well... the bookstore job is my lifeline right now."
"Of course, Ray." Egon patted Ray's shoulder awkwardly. "Brown will come to talk to us in a week. He wants to make his proposal in person." Egon stood up. "I'll show myself out, Ray. Lunch tomorrow? My treat."
"Ah, sure. Tony's?"
"11 sharp. See you there. If Winston can come too, he is very welcome. He has more street smarts than us three put together. I'd like his opinion."
"I'll ask him. See you tomorrow."
McFly House
Same Time
"See you later, honey. Give my regards to the girls!" George waved goodbye to his wife as she closed her car's door. He rolled his wheel-chair back into the house.
He turned back to Marty, and pulled an envelope from his pocket. "This arrived with the morning mail, son. Doc did invest on the stocks we agreed. I'll have to hire an accountant to reinvest the profits, and pay the taxes... ugh..."
"So... are we close to our goal?"
"I think we can safely say that by the end of the year we could be quite... um.. filthy rich. We are shareholders of some of the most productive firms in the West Coast and a few in the East."
"We did lose a few hundreds of bucks." Marty commented.
"Of course we did, and we will have to keep doing the same from time to time. Otherwise, somebody would suspect. And that would influence the market too much. No, we better lose a few and no one will suspect a thing."
"Who would have thought there were so many small business back in the 1960s that would yield nice profits twenty years later?"
"That's the thing, no one can really predict what technology will work in the market. Or which business will thrive. Not without hindsight. And a time machine to play it safe."
"Yeah, still, I wish we could have hired somebody to do the research, it was the most boring thing since Economics Class with Professor Stein... and that guy is a sure cure for insomnia!" (2)
"I've heard of him. Economics is not the most exciting class, to begin with." He shrugged. "How are you doing with the Japanese?"
"Struggling, dad. I more or less manage the spoken part, the written part is what really gets me stumped. They have several ways to write the same word, and it changes meaning depending on the symbols they use… But practicing with Jennifer sure is fun. She has a head for languages. I hope we can get much better by the time we actually go to Japan. According to Doc, the epicenter of Third Impact was most probably there, in Tokyo-3. What I don't know is how are we getting there."
"I have some ideas. The worst would be to get a ship stashed somewhere in the coast, jump to the future, and sail through the Pacific towards Japan. Transporting the cars and the plutonium would be a nightmare if we try in the present time. An accident and…"
"Yeah, we kill everybody around. Don't remind me."
"That's why Dr. Brown has been looking for alternate sources of energy."
"I really hope he finds a way. He decided that going back to 1955 and start working there… then… ah, forget that. He decided the risk of a paradox wasn't worth it. So he has been corresponding with other scientists and going to conferences and everything. The last parts for the truck will arrive in two weeks, and once we install them, the Toyota will be ready for its first time trip." He smiled.
San Francisco
San Francisco International Airport
Gate 5
"It looks like you've led a charmed life." Doc Brown had been talking to the distinguished old gentleman who had sat next to him during the flight. Now they were both waiting for their respective flights, Doc had charted a small plane to get closer to Hill Valley, while his companion was bound to Chicago.
The man was old but spry, his skin tanned by the sun. He had a patch over his right eye, and a set of eyeglasses with only the left glass on. Obviously, there was no need for the glass on the right side. He was using his fedora as an improvised fan.
"Oh, yes. I've seen much of this world. So much history." He smiled, "the good and the bad of people. And stuff you wouldn't believe. I was one of the first archeologists to be allowed access to the Dead Sea Scrolls. My father would have given his right hand to even see the urns they were found in, you know?"
Doc nodded. "I would dearly love to see them too. Although my favorite historical period is the Old West." His eyes glazed for a moment.
"Really? Well... back when I was a child, one of my neighbors was an old cowboy, one of the very last. Let me tell you what he told me back when I was just a brat in short-pants. He was a soldier in the Civil War, he lied about his age to enlist, but his past came back to haunt him, and I got caught in the middle of it…"
"You should have been in the movies, Professor Jones."
"In a way, I have." The old man nodded, "Secret of the Incas. 1954 (3) with Charlton Heston as my alter ego, Harry Steele. Little known these days. And quite tame compared to what actually happened. Still, I got a nice vacation at Peru with my wife, and we had the privilege to listen Yma Sumac sing. Lovely voice, like hearing the angels' choir (4)." He paused, looking up to the loudspeakers, "Oh, I think they are announcing my flight, Doctor Brown." Both kept silent, confirming that the connecting fight was ready to receive passengers; he stood up, and shook Doc's hand. "It's been a pleasure talking to you. If you ever go to Chicago, ask for me at the Oriental Institute. I'm the curator." He added with a proud smile, as he pulled a card from his pocket. "It would be a pleasure to show you our collection."
"I'll do so, Professor." Doc took the card, and patted his pockets until he found his own cards. "Here's mine. My speciality is technical science. Solving problems creatively. Who knows, maybe I could help you with something."
They shook hands, and followed their separate ways.
New York
Jackson & Jones Building
15th Floor, Meeting Room 3
February the 17th, 1986, 12:57 PM
"Egon, are you sure this is a good idea?" Dr. Raymond Stantz fidgeted with his tie. It had been a while since the last time he had worn one, and was out of practice.
"As much as the available data suggest, yes, I am. This is just a preliminary meeting. Winston? I trust in your opinion." Dr. Egon Spengler looked quite sharp, he was used to wearing bow ties, the better to keep the garment far from any potentially damaging chemicals.
"I'll be alert, Egon. I've dealt with my fair share of hustlers and con-men. Anything fishy, we get out of here and don't look back." Capt. Winston Zeddemore (5) tapped his fingers on the table.
"I'd rather we do this at the firehouse." Ray looked around, "This is kinda fancy."
"The building is in no shape for visitors." Egon noted. "The roof needs a serious overhauling, and there are not enough chairs for everybody. And that's just the building, the neighborhood has improved since we moved in, but it's not the best place for a good first impression."
"I know, but this place…" he waved around, "it may be rented, but it's more than I earn in a week. Per hour. I asked."
"It has all the accessories, I seriously doubt anybody would pay that much just for a con." Egon waved around. The meeting room had a phone/intercom, a slide proyector, blackboard with colored chalk, a mini fridge with soda cans, a coffee pot, and even high quality cookies, artisanal cookies. Not bought in bulk.
"It depends on the pot, Egon." Winston commented, taking a cookie from the platter. " Back in the air force, my crew and I managed to stiff a guy who had conned the granny of our drummer out of her savings. We got the money back, but had to pool our own money to sweeten the trap."
The phone rang, and Egon picked it up. "Yes? Aha. Of course. Thank you." He returned the phone to its cradle. "Brown and his helper are coming up. Look sharp."
They all checked their suits and ties were as neat as possible.
The door opened, and two men entered the room. The taller had a wild mane of white hair that gave him a passing resemblance to Albert Einstein. His eyes were bright and alert, with a certain spark of madness Ray recognized it from long experience. It was exactly the same look Egon had when engrossed in a problem.
"Good day, gentlemen!" The man said, "Glad to meet you, I am Dr. Emmet Brown." He put his portfolios on the table, And shook hands with Egon, Winston and Ray; while his companion, a kid of no more than 17 years, put a set of rolled plans on the table. "My young friend is my aide, Marty McFly."
"Hi! Nice to meet you, guys."
Once they had all shook hands, Doc pulled a chair, and invited everybody to sit down.
35 minutes, a bag of cookies, five cups of coffe and a soda later.
"This is exactly what I had hoped for! Clean energy, delivered at the push of a button."
"Doctor Brown, our proton packs are quite bulky and will require extensive modifications AND testing before we can be sure they can manage your requirements. 1.21 Gigawatts is a lot of energy. At the current output for one proton pack," Egon used his pocket calculator, "we will need three packs, and a way to synchronize them for a simultaneous release. Or find a way to increase the output." The next fine minutes consisted mainly of an exchange of technobabble between the three scientists.
"Of course, of course, Dr. Spengler. I had already taken that into account." Doc waved his hands excitedly, while Marty and Winston exchanged a look, both clearly thinking they had no idea of what the scientist had been talking about. "I have set a starting capital to cover the initial costs. Please, have your legal team contact mine, and draft a contract. I propose we start a new company, separate from both Brown Enterprises and Ghostbusters Inc."
Even Ray had gotten over his initial reticence, "We will need a name."
"Energy Incorporated."Egon proposed.
"Don't look at me, guys. I'm crap at naming things." Winston raised his hands.
"Lighting in a Bottle?" Ray scratched his head.
Marty was the last to propose a name. "Ah, well… the packs work with fusion, don't they? How about… Mr. Fusion?"
Ruins of Tokyo-3
March the 3rd, 2017
Shinji Ikari barely managed to get out of his bed in the best of days.
This was not a good day.
His head hurt. For his life, he now understood Misato a little better. Just a little; unlike happened with her, beer didn't loosen his inhibitions, it just drew out his melancholy. Shinji was certainly not a happy drunk. He was lucky his limit was very low, half a beer, and he was down for the count for the rest of the night.
He looked blearily at the empty beer can, and to the sealed container that held the second half of the beer. After realizing his limit, he took care to pour half of a can into a hermetic container before consuming the other half. That way, he still had beer for later. He still couldn't enjoy the taste, though, but other alcoholic beverages hit him even worse. So, he stuck to beer, and rigorously kept his intake to once a week.
He put a clean set of clothes, brushed his teeth to get rid of the evil taste in his mouth, and went to prepare two breakfasts. Along with two bentos.
By mutual, silent agreement, he took one to his room; and left the other on the table, covered with a lid. As he passed the one door with a lock, he knocked twice and kept on walking. Behind him, he heard the lock being opened.
He closed his door, and as he sat at the small desk to eat, he heard the front door open and close as he finished.
She never spent a single moment in his company if she could avoid it. He resignedly returned to the kitchen to wash the dishes.
On the door, a note detailed his companion's plan for the day. She would check the stores and houses in the east side, so he would stick to the west side.
He grabbed his backpack, a flashlight, spare batteries, and went to work.
Scavenging food and supplies.
Hoping to finally see another human face.
Just one.
Please.
I'll be good.
Please.
Help me.
Somebody.
Help me…
Ruins of Tokyo-3
Outside the city, there was a booming sound, followed by a flash of light. Then, a minute later, another boom and flash.
In normal circumstances, the noise and light would have been too far away to be noticed by the former Pilot. But in an empty, silent city, it was impossible to miss the disturbance.
Inside Instrumentality
The entity that had once called herself Rei Ayanami waited with inhuman patience.
The two free souls events had not repeated, her attention was focused on the area they had happened before, ready to manifest herself there.
The arrival of new souls at Tokyo-3 took her by surprise.
It took her a while to create a body, as all of her prepared work waited at the other side of the world.
Time to solve this mystery.
There was enough humanity in her for her first emotion was a distant annoyance at the change in plans the unexpected arrival brought. Had the souls manifested in the same place, she would have assembled a body in mere minutes. Now, it would take several hours.
Still, she knew where they were. And once she had everything necessary, she would meet them.
Their route was clear. They traveled towards the ruins of Tokyo-3. They stopped occasionally, gathered for a few minutes, and moved again.
They changed direction twice, probably to go around some obstacle.
Author Notes
(1) No, not Vincent Gambini; at this point in the timeline, Vinnie is still at school.
(2) Lets just say Professor Ben Stein moved to Chicago in 1986, before that, he lived in Hill Valley. Who's that guy, you ask? Ferris Bueller was his student.
(3) Secret of the Incas is one of the influences in the making of Indiana Jones. I thought it would be nice to have Professor Jones making an appearance here, much like in The Young Indiana Jones Chronicles.
(4) Yma Sumac (1922/2008) was a Peruvian singer, she indeed acted in Secret of the Incas, and had a long career. Her control of her voice was amazing. Personally, I think she could have sung Diva Plavalaguna's part in The Fifth Element without needing any tricks; the first time I heard her was in a Cirque du Soleil show, Quidam. The part where John, the Clown, dances a mambo with a hatstand. The song is Gopher, from her album Mambo! (1954)
(5) Winston's job interview (for the Security Guard job) originally revealed a lot of his background. Turns out he was quite the bad-ass. According to the Ghostbusters Wiki (referencing the movie draft dated August 5, 1983) Winston was an Air Force Police Captain assigned to perimeter security at Reese Strategic Air Command base.