(no subject)

[gone_byebye]

Tuesday, October 28, 2008
14 North Moore Street
Manhattan

Ray really should've seen it coming.

Not the phone call from Washington. He knew that was coming the instant Dr. Tsybenko submitted the most heavily profanity-laced facsimile the Firehouse had ever received, regarding the sudden and vicious phenomenological onset in the Caribbean. Not the news from the Australian Coast Guard regarding the Vieras-1, the Uruguayan fishing vessel that'd been dropping nets recklessly in Lemurian waters; he'd been tracking that boat just in case, because nothing said 'diplomatic incident' quite like making a sentient population into fried calamari. Not even the constant stream of cackling and muttering from Walter Peck's fishbowl. That was sort of inevitable.

No, what Ray should've seen coming was the part where he opened the door to the side alley that he and Jhalak always used to get into Milliways and saw only an alley...

Comments

[facile-fivefold.livejournal.com]

"No Slimer in fruit, please." "Fruit good. Slimer on food not good. Conflict."

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The blob drifts out of the refrigerator through the upper part of the door, looking vaguely injured and smelling of bologna and cheese. "Sorry, buddy. Didn't mean to interrupt your lunch," Ray says. He gets a thbbbbt! for his troubles. Par for the course, really.

Fortunately there's plenty of fruit untouched in the crisper. Ray settles down at the kitchen table with Jhalak and a big bowl full of the stuff.

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"Fruit, fruit, fruit." "Thank you, Ray."

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"You're welcome," says Ray. "Eat up. I already had breakfast this morning."

The phones are ringing downstairs. If he's really lucky Janine won't come looking for him just yet.

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One of the advantages of Jotok physiology is the ability to imitate phone-ringing noises in concert with yourself while you eat.

At least it's learned to make its mimicry enough unlike the actual sound that nobody will get confused and think it's sitting on someone's cellphone.

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You know how we said if Ray was lucky Janine wouldn't come looking for him?

"DR. STAAAAANTZ..."

He's not that lucky.

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"Dr. Staaaantz," Jhalak singsongs helpfully.

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Ray winces, trying not to hunch his shoulders as he calls out, "What is it, Janine?"

"YOU WANT THE BAD NEWS OR THE HORRIBLE NEWS FIRST?"

Ray facepalms.

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"Bad news, horrible news. Why no good news?" inquires Jhalak.

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"Because it's October, I think," Ray says. Then, a little louder: "Can we just get the bad news?"

Rather than shouting any longer, Janine comes far enough up the kitchen stairs for her head to be visible. "Fine," she says. "The bad news is there's like six different islands in the Caribbean where you guys might have to fly as soon as you can get to LaGuardia. Dr. Tsybenko called and said they're all acting like Dana's building did right before you-know-who showed up, so you better get there as fast as you can."

"... huh boy."

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"Six." It holds up a hand illustratively. "One two three four five--" Another hand, with a single digit extended, the rest curled inwards. "--six. Six different islands in the Caribbean; only one Ray. Conflict?"

[gone_byebye]

"Big conflict," Ray agrees moodily. "We're all going to have to go, aren't we, Janine?"

"Yep."

"So even with the four of us that's still only five- Ecto can't come, someone's got to stay here and back up the Hellfighters while we're gone." Ray rubs at his head. "I guess Dr. Tsybenko'll be a help, but we'll still have to check the maps... anyway. What's the horrible news?"

"You remember that fishing boat in the Pacific?"

"... no?"

Janine rolls her eyes. "Vieras One, from Uruguay? The one that the Greenpeace guys and the Lemurians were all cheesed off about?"

"Oh, yeah, because they were dropping their nets in Lemurian waters-" Ray winces. "Who'd they kill?"

"They didn't." Janine slides her glasses up her nose with one finger and gives Ray a Significant Look. "They changed course when they saw the Australian Coast Guard coming after 'em."

"That doesn't sound very horrible to me."

"That's because you haven't heard where they're going now. Somebody called from the Navy to say those guys're headed towards that Point Nemo place the Lemurians were talking about."

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"Big October thing," Jhalak concludes.

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"I don't see how it could get agh mmmfghk," says Ray, who just found out the hard way that both Peter and Winston came into the kitchen when he wasn't looking.

"Ray," says Winston pleasantly, "I love you like a brother, but if you finish that sentence, I'm gonna have to kill you."

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Jhalak scuttles to the edge of the table and lifts two arms to focus its eyes on Winston.

"Be joke," it says imperiously. "No killing Ray."

Its digits wiggle slightly.

"Even when Ray says stupid things."

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Ray gets a pained look, but Winston smiles. "Well, maybe just rough him up a little," he says. "Sorry, kiddo."

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Jotoki can't really nod, but Jhalak raises and lowers its central body mass a few times in imitation of the gesture.

"It's okay," it says graciously, and goes back to its fruit.

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Winston steps back, letting go of Ray's mouth. Peter, on the other hand, moves forward. "I know what you're gonna say, Ray," he says. "You want to go to the Pacific and see if you can't talk these guys out of sailing somewhere stupid, am I right?"

"Um-"

"I'm gonna have to put my foot down and say no way in hell." Peter folds his arms over his chest. "Wanna know why?"

"Um..."

"I never thought I would say this," comes Egon's voice from the stairs behind Janine, "but Venkman's right."

"Thanks, Spengs, I- hey, I didn't even get to explain!"

"No explanation necessary," Egon says grimly. "Ray, have you read the Waller Protocols?"

"I thought they were just a set of monitoring rules for the no-go zone around Point Nemo," Ray says, bewildered. "You know, to lay out whose duty it was to keep boats away from oh sweet funky Imhotep no. No-"

"Yes," says Egon. "I'm afraid so."

Ray twists in his seat to look up at Winston. "Am I jumping to conclusions? Is it really that bad?"

"For once, Ray, it really is."

"Excuse me," interjects Peter, annoyed, "but I believe I was supposed to be the one traumatizing Mr. Ambassador Who Doesn't Read Things He's Supposed To Be Reading, people?"

"Sorry, bro."

"Apologies, Venkman."

"Thank you." Peter sniffs. "Anyway. The reason we don't go talk to the nice stupid people in the fishing boat is because we don't want to come back glowing like we just spent a month in New Jersey. You might not have read that fax from the Defense Department, but I did."

"On the can," Winston adds in an undertone.

"Hey, the important thing is it got read, okay? Ray, we're not gonna go talk to the fishermen because if the navy doesn't get them to go away, there's this little tiny detail where the government decided it was more important to keep people from bugging Cthulhu into waking up than, oh, pretty much every treaty ever. Pretty much one out of every four nuclear weapons in the country are on tap for anybody who approaches the area without a signed note from the President."

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"Nuclear weapons create massive explosions by triggering a chain reaction of atomic fission, usually of the element uranium."

It pauses to munch on some fruit, then waves a hand illustratively.

"Boom."