(no subject)

[gone_byebye]

The first thing one notices upon opening the door into New York is that it's hot. August is a hot month in most of the Northern hemisphere, but even for August, it's vile outside. The smell of horse is on the air, and hydrocarbon. A nasty tang of ozone can be felt across the teeth; the sky has an unwholesomely orange cast across the darkness.

Ray glances around and lays a hand on the side of the building next to him. "We're home," he says.

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[lt-naraht.livejournal.com]

Naraht shoves himself into the most powerful part of the stream. While he gets the goo off, a ghost with mulitiple tentacles tries to divebomb him, buy is quickly picked off by Winston's thrower.

"Thanks!" Naraht calls out as he finishes getting clean and backs out of the water. "Ugh! Water immersion isn't pleasant but better than the alternative."

He notices Ray's look of concern. "Don't worry, it wouldn't have killed me. That stuff is a mix of silicon and other chemicals that make it probably the best lubicant I've ever seen."

The Horta shakes himself, spraying water droplets everywhere. "However, that particular mix of chemicals is rapidly absorbed through my acid glands and respirers...and highly intoxicating. If it had stayed on me much longer I would have been three sheets to the wind, so to speak."

[gone_byebye]

The ozone smell in the air only gets stronger as the proton streams bark into life, left, right, and center. Ray for his part nods. "That's something, at least-"

"Ray, did I hear him right?" calls Peter as he reels in the ghost at the end of his stream.

"How do you mean?"

"You brought us-" Dr. Venkman drops a trap, and kicks it out as far as it'll go. "-a space rock-" One foot comes up; the stream cuts off; the trap springs open. As it slams shut with the ghost inside, the sentence finishes: "-and you almost got it drunk?"

"Um-"

Before Ray can answer, the pleedle-eedle-eedle of a cellular phone rings out. Peter gets an odd look on his face and rips a bright yellow handset from one of his pockets. "This had better be good, Janine."

In the relative quiet that's fallen, the secretary's voice can be heard. "It's the Mayor. He wants to know where the heck you guys are."

"Tell Lenny he can-" Peter checked himself. "We're north of Canal and heading for-" He looked over at Egon. "Still Rock Center?"

"I think I've found our locus, Peter, and it's farther north than that. It looks as if our ultimate goal is under Central Park- behind the Metropolitan Museum of Art, if GPS is worth trusting any more."

"Tell him we're on Avenue of the Americas and heading north if he wants to send an escort." He shuts off the cell phone and gestures to the others. "Come on, guys. The Mayor wants us on the move."

Ray moves forward to gather up the traps as Peter herds the other two Ghostbusters back to Ecto. There's a slightly shamefaced look about Ray as he hurries past K, but other than that he doesn't say anything.

[k_in_black]

Might be some kind of group dynamics thing going on, but K's keeping it linear. Everything else can wait.

K checks the charges on the Deatomizer and his proton pack. Good to go. Then hurries back to Ecto.

"Ray! Behind the Met? You mean the Great Lawn or the Reservoir?"

[lt-naraht.livejournal.com]

Naraht hurries over to Ecto and starts to climb in.

"Look out!" someone screams from the crowd gathering on the periphery. It's a cop who was apparently too busy taking cover to note the Horta earlier. And his gun is out...God only knows what good he thinks it would do on a ghost. "One's trying to get your car!"

Naraht, rather peeved at this point, drops back to the ground and lets a huge gout of steam off. "Oh for the love of the Mother! I'm on their side, waterbag!"

[gone_byebye]

Ray slaps one glove-covered hand over his face, inadvertently dropping a trap or two in the process. Fortunately, none of them open. That would be horrifically embarrassing. "Officer," he begins, but the cop isn't hearing.

"Stand back!" the officer yells. "I can get a clear shot from-"

"Nobody's shooting anybody, Officer, this is-"

Egon, who had been about to seat himself, steps in front of the Horta instead. "Put the gun down," says the physicist firmly. "He's on our side."

There's still some argument in the cop, but Egon's given Ray time to think. As he gathers up the traps he mutters to K, "We don't have time to explain things here. Can you do something about this guy so we can get uptown now?"

[k_in_black]

And there's a faint smile on K's face. Aw, hell, he really shouldn't enjoy this, he knows that. But it's been *weeks* since he's had a chance to--.

"Officer! Excuse me," K strides right up to the policeman in the way only Federal and MiB agents know how. The cop can't help it. His gun stays pointed at Naraht and Egon, but he's looking at K now.

The shiny cylinder is in K's hand already, "Hell of a day we're having, isn't it? (If you could look right here.) I'm sure you're searching for a handle on the moment. Who wouldn't be? (Yes, right here, that's it.)"

*foomp*

K palms the neuralyzer as he grabs the cop by his shoulders and spins him around, facing away from Naraht.

"I want to *personally* thank you for taking part in our disaster-training simulation. I don't have to tell you that we would be *lost* without the valuable input of the NYPD. Your force is truly an inspiration to us all. Now if you would please proceed directly to your next station--that would be the second floor of Zabar's, right by the kitchen utensil display--we can move right along to the next phase."

"And thank you again for your invaluable service to the PATRIOT Act."

[lt-naraht.livejournal.com]

Needless to say, Naraht is curious as to what K just did.

However, he also knows that there is a time to indulge your curiosity and a time to hold the questions and get the hell out of Dodge!

This is definately the latter. He hoists himself into the back of Ecto one and does his best to look like cargo while the rest of the team gets in.

"Your city's security staff could really use a briefing on interspecies relations," he quips.

[gone_byebye]

Egon stares at K as the man returns. By the look of him, the physicist is about two and a half seconds away from saying something like "Hsssss... precioussss," and making a snatch for the neuralyzer.

Ray, for his part, knows that look. He kicks Egon in the shin as he heads for the car.

It's enough to snap the man out of his brief fit of tech lust; Egon shakes his head rapidly, blinks a few times, and exhales. "Thank you," he says. "That was extremely convenient. Remind me to ask for the technical details later, if there is a later-"

"That's what I like about you, Egon," calls Peter from his seat in Ecto. "Always the optimist."

Egon ignores him. "I do have one question, though. What's the Patriot Act?"

Ray starts up the car. The explanations can be made after everyone gets in and they're headed safely uptown. As it stands, Peter's engaged in some pretty fervent discussion on his cell phone- by the sounds of it, they'll be meeting some more of the boys in blue when they get to Herald Square or so.

[k_in_black]

Egon can try to grab it, but he wouldn't like what would happen next...

"Don't have the PATRIOT act, huh? Very handy. Achieves nothing, but makes the Federal government feel like it's taking care of business. Best thing to happen for my bureau since the Star Wars program."

[lt-naraht.livejournal.com]

In the meantime, Winston leans over to Naraht and says. "I'm sorry about that, m'man. But we don't exactly have interspecies relations...at least not yet."

Naraht chuckles. "Oh, I know. I was simply being snarky. I fear that Dr. Venkman has been a bad influence on me."

"Hey!" comes an indignant protest from the front seat. "I've known you for, what? All of an hour now?"

"Oh, sorry. I meant the other Dr. Venkman. The one in Milliways," Naraht explains.

"How is Pete's Evil Twin Skippy doing?" Winston asks as Ray speeds through the streets.

"Quite well," Naraht says. "In fact, he'll be a new father in...I believe he said five months."

[gone_byebye]

Peter's face does this:



But no sound comes out.

"... oh, didn't I tell you?" Ray asks, his eyes on the road.

"No!!"

"Oops."

"Venkman breeding," mutters Egon. "Tell me, is that world having any other major signs of incipient apocalypse?"

"Um..." Ray hesitated. "Tell you later. Okay?"

And there's quiet in the car for a while, at least.



The nice thing about driving Ecto is that even without cops on hand people tend to get out of your way. The group makes it to Herald Square- 34th and Broadway, in front of Macy's- in record time, and sure enough, there's cops galore waiting. Some in cars. Some in motorcycles. And two rather confused ones standing on either side of a very large truck that appears to be affiliated with the bomb squad. Peter smiles at the sight, and as Ray whips Ecto around to another perfect 180-degree stop, says, "Follow my lead."

He hops out of the car, waving to police and civilians alike. There's cheering; this is a place where many roads and buildings meet, so of course it's chock full of people. "Hello, New York!" he calls. "Don't you beautiful people worry about a thing- the Ghostbusters are on the job!"

Egon and Winston slide out of the car; two police on blue and white Vespa scooters pull up alongside them. Peter gestures to the truck to back up as close to Ecto's rear end as it can get. "Okay, here's the deal," he says out of the side of his mouth, still waving. "Winston, Egon, and I are gonna handle Rockefeller Center. You three get up to- where are they going again?"

"Not as far as the Great Lawn proper. As nearly as I can tell your target lies under Cleopatra's Needle."

"Okay. We're taking the car- you three get up there and get things as under control as you can. We'll be along as fast as we can manage."

The bomb-squad truck driver gulps as he spots Naraht for the first time, but manages a rather game, "Secret weapon, sirs?"

The other squaddie, who is rather more of a New Yorker at heart, rolls his eyes. "I didn't see nothin'," he mutters. "Just get in the truck and let's get outta here."

Ray smiles, gathering up several traps. "You got it, Officer. K, Naraht- let's boogie. Winston, take care of the car..."

[k_in_black]

"Lead the way, Ray. We got your back."

[lt-naraht.livejournal.com]

The ride is not the smoothest. More geysers orange gunk have erupted in the streets requiring some swerving on the part of the drivers, but they make it to Cleopatra's Needle without much incident.

However, as they disembark, another earthquake hits. A stronger one this time.

"This is strange," Naraht says. "I've been in many earthquakes but these...feel wrong somehow."

He turns back to the job at hand and begins sounding out the ground underneath. "First Mother hold and protect us." His voder is amost at whisper level. "There is...a sizable cavern down there."

[gone_byebye]

The cops pull back as soon as the trio disembarks. They'll still be around, in case, but nothing in the NYPD training manual covers anything like this situation. They'll be... oh, probably over on Park or maybe Fifth. Close enough. Away from the goo.

"New York isn't a tectonically active area to begin with," Ray says. "The nearest active fault of any kind of size is the Ramapo Fault, and that runs from Morris County in New Jersey up into the Hudson Valley."

He has his own PKE meter out even as Naraht begins testing the ground beneath them. At the Horta's words, he whistles. "There's something, all right," he says. "We're standing on top of a PKE source that's just getting bigger and bigger..."

He glances up at the obelisk, expression briefly touched with dread.

"And this is as hot as it's been anywhere in the city. Please tell me it's not a magma chamber down there."

[k_in_black]

K drops to the ground, placing the Deatomizer and the thrower carefully to both sides of him.

He pulls out a simple looking device with a row of colored lights on it and only a couple of buttons. He pushes both of them, and a blue and and a green light blink on.

"Not magma, Ray. Some object--." He pushes the buttons at the same time, and another green light blinks on. "Correction. Some lifeform. It's moving down there."

"Hell. That's even worse. And it's even hotter down there than it is up here."

[lt-naraht.livejournal.com]

"Well, I suppose we're not doing much good on the surface now, are we?" Naraht says as he gets his grinders into gear. "I'm going in. Mind, don't follow me for at least 30 seconds. My acids neutralize themselves quickly, but I'd like to keep risk of burns to a minimum.

With that, the Horta begins eating into the asphalt, creating a sloping path downward through the roadbed and into the ground. Horta can cut through rock about as quickly as a human can jog. He soon nears the cavern. "It seems to be largely empty from the sounding," he calls back. "But, be ready to bolt if you hear me yell. Just in case."

He eats through the last bit...and glides into a huge cavern.

"Oh, my..."

It is most definately not a natural cavern. The walls sport intricate designs and what appears to be writing. Channels coated with more of the infamous orange gunk are carved of the floor and, in the center, a massive pillar rotates slowly...with a grating sound.

"Ray! Kay! Get down here!" Naraht calls. "This is incredible. I don't see any lifeform, though..."

"AAAARRRRAAAAGGGGHHHHH!!!" echos out of one of the side tunnels. Naraht sighs. "Thank you, Murphy. YOu just had to smack me, didn't you?"

[gone_byebye]

Ray glances sidelong at Kay, lifting one eyebrow successfully for the first time in his entire life. "You heard the Horta..."

He pulls his goggles down, yanks his thrower from its hooks and sets off down the tunnel at a dead run. There's a light at the end of the tunnel and it's all in a spectrum the human eye can't see- the place is fairly bursting with psychokinetic energy. And magic. And possibly other things but the data is scrolling by in the left-hand corner of his display too fast to tell for sure. "We're coming! What's- Frith on a bridge!"

He skids to a stop, staring in horror at the pillar. What it is, he doesn't know. But there are spectral forms swirling about it, diving against the thing and bouncing off, clawing at the stone...

Something strikes him, and he looks down. The floor of the cavern ends only a few yards away, dropping off into a pit too deep to see the bottom. What he did see was several slanting troughs, running in from the quarters of the compass to the bulk of the rotating pillar- dry troughs. Completely dry.

Except for one that seemed to have the orange stuff seeping through cracks in the rocks that blocked it off from the sides of the pit.

"Naraht! That stuff is lube, you said?" He glances over his shoulder. "I think this is what's causing the earthquakes! It's not getting through!"

Up around the pillar, the swirling, invisible ghosts pause... and one by one, become visible.

[k_in_black]

K just yells down the shaft, "You're doing fine, kid! Keep at it!"

Ok, no. He doesn't do that.


K has Ray's back on the way down, but as soon as they emerge in the enormous cavern, he whips out the obviously *too* simple device.

"Goddamn Galoshans. 'Special offer', my ass." He wings the device at a cavern wall and watches it shatter into a million pieces with immense satisfaction.

He turns to Ray. "Let's go to work, kid."

"New York needs lube?"

He hefts his thrower.

"Well, I can be 'Trojan for a day'. How about you?"

[lt-naraht.livejournal.com]

At this point, the ghosts start attacking the pillar in earnest. The vibrations seem to increase as they shove.

"They're trying to break it!" Naraht shouts. "You ward them off. I'll get the lubricant going."

Yes, K's joke went right over Naraht's metaphorical head. He darts to the first plug, sees the orange goo trickling out and remembers how it felt with the tiny dose he took. It will be worse with him actually eating it.

"I'm going to so feel this in the morning," he grumbles as he slides into the channel and begins eating away at the plug. It doesn't take long before he's through it and a flood of lubricant surges over him. Naraht backs out, feeling a bit muzzy, and heads to the next one.

This cannot end well, he thinks.

[gone_byebye]

A small smile twitches at the fringes of Ray's mouth. "So long as I don't have to be ribbed for-"

The skies do not open and the heavens do not fall, because Ray doesn't get to complete the joke. That's the point when the ghosts start their attack and the Horta charges forward. "Right!" Ray says, turning a dial on his thrower. "It's showtime!"

They don't have enough traps for all these ghosts. Ray knows it. They probably don't have enough power in both their packs to hold the lot off as long as Naraht needs, not alone, not unless the Horta works really, really fast.

But dammit, they're going to do this. They have to.

This is New York, and the city's in danger, and you don't get to be either of these men if you don't face a situation like this head on.

[k_in_black]

K sprints in a wide arc around the pillar, feeling the proton pack revving up with a low whine. He's almost in position when one of the ghosts breaks away from the pillar and shrieks down toward him.

K's face goes cool. He back-pedals until his feet come up against depression in the floor. Then, feet firmly planted, he unleashes a proton blast right into the ghost's face. The orange-white energy hurls the ghost back through the air.

"WHO'S NEXT!?!"

[lt-naraht.livejournal.com]

By the time Naraht is through the second plug, he is squiffed.

By the time he makes it through the third one, he's toasted.

By the time he makes it through the fourth one, he'...well, if he was human, he'd giggling uncontrolably.

At least the pillar isn't grinding so much now. The lubricant is flooding the pit from four sources and the wails of the ghosts have taken on a desperate tone.

"Give em hell, Kay!" he calls out as he makes his way toward the fifth plug...but movement down one of the side passages catches his attention. "What have we here?" he asks, turing and sliding off into the darkness, the remaining plugs forgotten in his haze of intoxication.

And the intoxication is a good thing, because it prevents him from feeling the least bit of fear when the troll-like being chained up in the next chamber roars at him. "Good morning to you, too, buddy," he says cheerfully.

[gone_byebye]

The foulest stench is in the air, the funk of forty thousand years, and grisly ghouls from every tomb are closing in to seal your doom...

There are times when Ray hates his brain. This is one of them.

And no one's going to save you from the beast about to strike-

He fires, again and again and again. Keep them away, get them out of the way, trap the ones you can-

Night creatures crawl and the dead start to walk in their masquerade, there's no escaping the jaws of the alien this time-

There's a horrible little squeal behind him. THat's the low charge alarm. Followed, two proton bursts later, by the 'shutting down now kthxbai' alarm.

Ray sets his teeth grimly and shucks off his pack. "Keep going, K! I still have you covered!" he calls as he drops the pack to the ground. One hand dips into his uniform, coming up with a silver cylinder the size of a state trooper's maglight.

It is just about possible that the whmmmm of a lightsaber being activated is drowned out by the sudden searing of three proton beams, as the other Ghostbusters charge down the tunnel, but the world may never really know.

[k_in_black]

By the time the Ghostbuster Cavalry arrives, K's pack is on vapors too. He drops the thrower, letting it hang by his side, and whips out the Deatomizer, smacking the dial to its maximum setting. The piercing whine makes three of the ghosts peel off from the pillar and come streaking straight for the Man in Black.

"Come to Poppa," K whispers, then cuts loose.

Wastebaskets don't hit back. Ghosts do. But a Deatomizer can sure ruin their day. The blasts tear into the ghosts, raising some kind of hell with their ectoplasmic fields. Looks like it hurts, and that's good enough for K until the Peter, Egon, and Winston can finish the job.

Then he hears the roar behind him.

[lt-naraht.livejournal.com]

Back in the cavern, the rather intoxicated Horta has come to a conclusion.

Shackles = bad. Therefore, shackles must go.

"Hold still, buddy," he says as he sets to work.

In a manner of moments, a sound like a teakettle orchestra can be heard as Naraht leads the creature out into the cavern while whistling "Closer To Fine". "Hey, Ray!" he laughs. "Look what I found. I'd name him George, but I used that already!"