GHOSTBUSTERS: The Return Page 15

  Venkman studied her for a minute. Dana really did want to help him, and it was yet another reason why he lov - well, it meant a lot to him, anyway. But what could he say? That his life was getting too complicated? That people were expecting too much from him? That he was being stretched in a million directions, and he just couldn't be everything for everyone? There wasn't a whole lot that Dana could do about any of that, other than offering to drop out of his life herself. And that was the last thing he'd ever want her to do. It would be too high a price to pay.

  No, it was better to say nothing at all. He'd figure out a way to deal with it all and keep everybody happy. Besides, he thought, it's not like this is going to go on forever. Once the campaign was over and he was in office, everything would be better. He could hire the Ghostbusters back - at a substantial increase in pay, to make up for their troubles. In fact, he could give himself a big raise too, to make up for his own troubles. And with a staff in place to handle his work for him, he'd be able to spend more time with Dana. All he had to do was weather the next couple of months of campaigning, and then life would go back to normal.

  "Peter?"

  He sighed. "It's nothing. Really. Look, I just had this stupid fight with Ray today."

  "With Ray? What about?"

  "Something stupid. It doesn't matter. The point is, I tried to lay it on him, but it was really all my fault. So I'm feeling like kind of an idiot right now."

  He could see Dana's body relax, relieved that it wasn't anything more serious. She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "He's your best friend, Peter. He'll forgive you."

  "Yeah, I know. I'll call him tomorrow."

  She leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek. "You're a good friend."

  He responded by leaning in as well, and kissing her lightly on the lips. "Thanks."

  They kept their faces close together for a moment, exchanging smiles and silent gazes. Venkman felt so much for this woman who cared so much for him. There had to be something he could do to show her that he felt the same way...

  They kissed lightly one more time and settled back into their seats, still holding hands.

  "So I was thinking. . ." he said. "In a couple of weeks, when I get over the initial hump on this campaign thing, maybe I can finally take Butch to the Museum of Natural History to see those dinosaurs."

  Dana raised a hand. "Let's not start that again."

  "No, I mean it. I know I let you guys down on that one, and I want to make up for it."

  "Peter, you're never going to have time to take Oscar to the museum while you're running for Mayor."

  "No sweat. I'll work it out. Besides, it'll be good for the campaign. It'll help bring in the dinosaur vote."

  "Oh, really?"

  "Sure. Most people don't realize it, but dinosaurs are a vital, underappreciated minority in New York."

  Dana chuckled. "All right, how about this: I'll take Oscar to see some of the dinosaur skeletons tomorrow. He'll be happy, and it'll take the pressure off. Then, whenever your schedule permits, we can all go together to see the rest of them."

  Venkman threw up his hands. "And she has brains, too!"

  "You're only just realizing that now?"

  "No, of course not," he said, sliding over to put his arms around her. "From the first moment I saw you, that was what attracted me. Your brains."

  "Really."

  "Absolutely. Your gorgeous..." He kissed her. "...gorgeous..." He kissed her again. "...brains." He kissed her a third time.

  They spent the better part of a block that way, until the MOMA building finally came into view. Reluctantly, they had to separate at that point, so that they could touch up their appearance and look presentable when they arrived.

  As they fixed their hair and straightened their clothes, she caught his eye. "Feeling better?" she asked.

  "After that Oh, yeah."

  "That's not what I meant."

  "I know," he said. "Yeah, I'm okay."

  "Good. Listen, thanks for telling me what was going on between you and Ray. I know it's not easy for you to talk honestly about your feelings. But I'm glad you did."

  "Yeah," said Venkman. "Me, too."

  Egon just couldn't keep his eyes open anymore. Slowly, the parchment began to slip from his fingers. His head began to droop and fall forward, until he caught himself and woke with a start.

  He shook his head, adjusted his glasses, and looked quickly around at his surroundings to orient himself.

  He saw the familiar office area, the piles of ancient books stacked on the table, and Ray paging through yet another volume at the far side of the table.

  Oh, right, he thought.

  With a yawn, Egon rolled up his sleeve to check his watch. It read three-sixteen A.M.

  He turned his attention back to the Egyptian scroll in front of him. He opened his eyes wide, gave his head another shake, and tried to go back to searching through the hieroglyphics for some mention of Xanthador.

  Ordinarily, he wasn't bad at deciphering the ancient symbols. Back in college, he once translated sixteen dirty limericks into hieroglyphics as a favor to his childhood friend, Peter Venkman, so that Venkman could write them on bathroom walls. At the moment, though, Egon's sleep-starved brain was having trouble focusing on the task at hand. His thoughts kept drifting away.

  Eye, scarab, water, ibis, walking man. . . he thought.

  Eye, ibis, water...

  Eye before ibis except after sea...

  A scarab and an ibis walk into a man...

  He woke again with a jolt and checked his watch. Three-twenty.

  "Ray, let's call it a night," he said.

  "Just a little longer," Ray said.

  "It's almost three-thirty."

  "It is?"

  "Yes."

  Ray thought about it for a second, then went back to his book. "We've got to nail this thing."

  "I agree. But I can't stay awake any longer, and you fell off your chair half an hour ago."

  "That was just a touch of vertigo."

  "Due to the remarkable height of your chair, I assume," Egon replied dryly. "I admire your dedication, but we're no good to anyone like this. Let's pick up again In the morning."

  "The sooner we find something on Xanthador, the sooner we can put an end to all of this."

  "Yes, but operating at a diminished capacity isn't going to help. We'll come back to it in the morning. Janine and Louis can keep checking the English-language sources, too."

  "What if there's another attack by then? Someone could die."

  "And it will be you. You won't be able to save anyone if you don't get a few hours of sleep first. Or do you think it's a good idea to operate a proton pack when you're semi-conscious?"

  Ray started to say something in response, but stopped himself. "Okay," he said. "You win. But just a few hours."

  "Fine."

  Ray placed a bookmark inside the book he was reading and closed the cover. "You want to crash upstairs? Your old bed's open."

  "That sounds good."

  The two of them walked around the room, turning off lights and trying not to stumble over their own tired feet. But when Egon went to turn off the lamp on Janine's desk, he noticed something.

  "Did you leave the phone off the hook?" Egon asked.

  "Not as far as I know. Maybe it got knocked over while we were dealing with the ghosts."

  Egon picked up the fallen receiver and held it to his ear. An electronic voice on the other end was saying, Ling xiang de shihon, shijian shi...

  With a puzzled look. Egon said, "It's a recording. It sounds like...Chinese?"

  "Chinese?"

  "I think so."

  Ray groaned. "Giving the correct time, right?"

  "Could be. Did you call?"

  Ray shook his head. "Urban legend. A woman gets even with her ex after a messy break-up by using his phone... "

  "To dial the phone number for the correct time in China?"

  Ray nodded. "It's bad enough that they t
ried to kill us. But they wanted to drive up our phone bill, too."

  CHAPTER 12

  It was a little past ten-thirty in the morning when the call came in over the radio.

  "Delta-six requesting assistance! Over!"

  "Roger, Delta-six," said the dispatcher. "What's your twenty?"

  "Five-seven-two Fifth Avenue! Ground floor, in the sporting goods store! We've got a - Watch out!" There was the sound of a scream, followed imrnediately by breaking glass.

  "Delta-six, are you all right? Over."

  "I'm here. We're in need of immediate back-up! Over!"

  "Delta-six, what's your situation? Over."

  "We've got a ten... a ten... Aah, forget the numbers! There ain't no numbers for this! Just send the Ghostbusters - fast!"

  "Negative, Delta-six. All requests for supernatural assistance are to be routed through the Mayor's office to Goodraven. Are you in need of supernatural assistance? Over."

  "Whatever! Just get someone here, now! Before these spooks kill somebody!"

  Ray had already dropped the scroll he'd been reading. He raced across the parking bay to the Ectomobile and had the engine running before Egon even finished climbing into the car. But before they pulled out, Ray stuck his head out the window to call to Janine and Louis, who were still seated at a table, surrounded bv books.

  "Keep an ear on the police scanner," he said. "If anything else comes up, call us."

  "Right," said Janine.

  The scanner had been Egon's idea. They'd never needed one before. After all, the police had always called them directly when they had a problem that fell outside the jurisdiction of the living. Actually, more often than not, the Ghostbusters received panicked calls from victims before the police even knew what was going on.

  Now that Goodraven was in the picture, though, the Ghostbusters realized that the police wouldn't be calling anymore. That meant there was a good chance they wouldn't know about spectral events until it was too late. A trip to an electronics store and a swipe of a credit card were all that it took to fix that. ("If only all of our problems could be fixed this easily," Ray had remarked.)

  Ray started to back up out of the parking bay. As the car moved, Egon held his door open and leaned out. "And remember," he called, "If any further apparitions manifest here... "

  "Spray them with wraith repellent, get out of the building, and call you," said Janine.

  Egon slammed the door just as the Ectomobile pulled out of the building. The car peeled away with lights and sirens blaring like the Fourth of July.

  Louis looked around furtively and sprayed some wraith repellent back over his shoulder, just in case.

  No sooner had Ray and Egon left than the phone started ringing. Several of the lights on Janine's phone lit up, indicating that a number of people were calling at the same time.

  Janine had worked for the Ghostbusters long enough to know what to expect. Whenever a ghost did something in a public place, they invariably got calls from various bystanders who wanted to report it. The numbers of calls had risen over the years as cell phones increased in popularity and more people started carrying them around. Unfortunately, though, the callers almost never wanted to pay for the Ghostbusters' services; they simply assumed it was a city-funded organization like the fire or sanitation departments. rather than a private business. They were just reporting the incidents as good citizens or - more often - because they were in fear for their lives.

  If some of them were willing to cough up some cash, Janine thought, I might get paid on time one of these days.

  She picked up the book she'd been checking and carried it over to her desk. She continued to skim the pages as she took the calls.

  "Ghostbusters," she said to the first caller. "Yes, we already heard. A team is on the way. Thank you."

  One by one, she hit the button for each of the lines on the phone. She spoke absently into the phone as she continued to skim through the book. "Ghostbusters. If this is about Fifth Avenue, they're on their way. Thank you." Click. "Ghostbusters. If this is about Fifth Avenue, they're on their way. Thank you." Click. "Ghostbusters. If this is about Fifth Avenue, they're on their way. Thank you."

  It took a few minutes for the phone calls to subside. By the time they did, Janine had made it through several more pages of the book. But when she turned the next page, her eyes widened with interest. Hanging up the phone, she read more carefully. "Say, here's something," she said. She brought the book back over to show Louis.

  "It isn't another article about tantric sex, is it?" Louis asked.

  "No," she said. "Look at this... "

  "Look at that, Oscar," said Dana. "Look - Dinosaurs!"

  "Dinosaws!"

  "That's right, dinosaurs. Those are skeletons from real dinosaurs."

  "Dinosaws! Dinosaws!"

  The two of them had just walked in the main entrance of the Museum of Natural History, and already Oscar's grin reached from ear to ear. Dana suspected it had more than a little to do with the diorama constructed from full-scale replicas of dinosaur skeletons which towered above the visitors in the museum lobby.

  To be honest, Dana had to admit that she was a little awed by the skeletons herself. The largest was a long-necked dinosaur that had to measure at least sixty feet from its nose to its tail. It was rearing up on its hind legs, so that its head reached almost to an arched ceiling that, in any other building, would have been the ceiling of the floor above. A similar but much smaller dinosaur stood behind it. A third dinosaur, which appeared to be a different species than the other two, stood in front of the tall dinosaur, poised for an attack.

  All in all, it looked as though the tail dinosaur was protecting its young against an attacking predator. Dana smiled, I can identify, she thought.

  She led Oscar around the display to a corner where an admissions desk stood. She got on line and checked her watch. It was 10:48. Fortunately, the line was not very long. Just enough time to show Oscar the dinosaurs, drop him off at day care, meet Peter for a quick lunch, and get to work in time for the Afternoon rehearsal, she thought.

  Oscar was pulling on one of the velvet ropes that had been set up to guide people who were waiting in line. Dana considered telling him to stop. but he was having fun, and he wasn't likely to knock over the heavy, metal posts between the ropes. Besides he wasn't trying to stick the velvet rope in his mouth - yet - so she decided to let him be.

  As she waited to pay. Dana glanced over the free brochures that lined the front of the admissions desk. There was a general pamphlet and map for the museum as a whole, as well as more specific pamphlets about special exhibits, the planetarium attached to the museum, and so on. She decided to take one of each and pass them on to Venkman. Not to badger him (although he'd probably assume that was her intent), but so that he'd have the information handy whenever he did get the chance to take Oscar.

  Then, on second thought, she took two copies of each - one copy to give to Venkman, and one to save for the day when he inevitably lost the first one. Their little talk about responsibility seemed to have made a difference, but she wasn't expecting miracles overnight.