Ghostbusters II

by Ed Naha

Stantz wasn't impressed with Hardemeyer's ap­ proach. He turned to the mayor. "Mr. Mayor, if we don't do something by midnight tonight, you're going to go down in history as the man who let New York get sucked down into the tenth level of hell!"

  The mayor considered this. He turned to the fire captain. "Can you get into that museum?"

  The fire captain offered a sad smile. "If I had a nuclear warhead ... maybe."

  The mayor turned to Venkman.

  "You know why all these things are happening?"

  Venkman was angry now. "We tried to tell you last night, but Mr. Hard-on over here had us packed off to a loony bin."

  Hardemeyer felt himself losing it. He didn't care. The Ghostbusters were his enemies. "This is preposter­ ous!" he whined. "You can't seriously believe all this mumbo jumbo, Mr. Mayor. It's the twentieth century, for crying out loud!"

  He bared his teeth to Venkman. "Look, mister, I don't know what this stuff is or how you got it all over the museum, but you'd better get it off now, and I mean right now!"

  Hardemeyer ran up to the museum's entrance like a madman possessed. He began to pound at the wall of slime with his fists.

  Both the mayor and the Ghostbusters watched in amazement as the wall of slime seemed to give in for a fleeting instant. Hardemeyer's fist plunged through the wall. He flashed a defiant sneer at Venkman. His sneer, however, soon turned to something more closely resem­ bling the letter O.

  Within seconds the wall promptly sucked Harde­ meyer inside the slime curtain, emitting a gushy, sloooooshing sound.

  Before anyone had the time to react, Hardemeyer was gone.

  Only his three-hundred-dollar shoes remained... hanging from the re-hardened wall of slime.

  The mayor of New York emitted a heavy sigh. He turned to the Ghostbusters. "Okay," he whispered, "just tell me what you need."

  28

  The quartet of Ghostbusters sat stone- faced in the tiny diner with the mayor of New York City.

  The mayor was sweating.

  The Ghostbusters regarded him coolly.

  Outside the small burger joint, a dozen security men patrolled silently.

  The mayor was nearly in a state of panic. "Did you know the Titanic arrived this morning?"

  Venkman nodded. "So I've heard, and I bet all the hotels have weird bookings... this being New Year's Eve and all."

  "Don't get cute with me." The mayor barked. "Just tell me why all these things are happening!"

  Venkman sipped his coffee. "We tried to, Yer Honor. But you wouldn't believe us. I don't wanna get too technical here, but basically, things are going to hell because people in New York act like jerks."

  The mayor nearly swallowed his catsup-covered weenie. "What?"

  Stantz smiled sweetly at the paranoid politician.

  "Imagine an ocean's worth of bad vibes being poured into a small glass, the glass being this city. That's the situation we're up against. We have about four hours before that glass, under pressure from the flow, shat­ ters."

  Winston took the opportunity to thrust a mighty forefinger into the mayor's chest. "Plus, you've got one mean lean Carpathian mother in that museum who is just ready and willing to pick up the pieces and go gung ho."

  The mayor emitted a small moan. "And it had to happen in an election year. Well, who is this guy and what does he want?"

  Stantz stared at the mayor. "He wants it all In every great social breakdown there has been some evil, power-mad nutball ready to capitalize on it. This one just happens to have been dead for at least three hun­dred years."

  "It's happened before," Spengler informed the mayor. "Nero and Caligula in Rome. Hitler in Nazi Germany ..."

  Stantz jumped in. "Stalin in Russia. The French Reign of Terror!"

  Winston decided to put his two cents in: "Pol Pot? Idi Amin?"

  Venkman turned toward the fidgeting mayor. "Car­ dinal Richelieu, George Steinbrenner, Donald Trump!"

  The mayor caved in, his face resembling a three- day-old Mr. Potato Head. "But being miserable and stomping on people's dreams is every New Yorker's right... isn't it? What do you expect me to do? Go on the TV and tell eight million people that all of a sudden they have to be nice to each other?"

  Venkman grinned, crocodile-style. "Naaaah. We'll handle that part. We only need one thing from you."

  The mayor nodded up and down, like a Slinky toy.

  He felt a sudden surge of relief. Dr. Venkman only needed one thing from him. Maybe the mayor would come out of this looking okay. Maybe next year's elec­ tion wouldn't be affected.

  Then Venkman explained what the Ghostbusters needed.

  At that point the mayor fainted.

  29

  Behind the Ghostbusters, the skyline of Manhattan sparkled radiantly, ready to embrace the New Year. They stood at the feet of the Statue of Liberty on Liberty Island, donning their new equipment. They strapped compression tanks to their backs and hooked up nozzles from their backpacks to the bazookalike weapons Stantz and Spengler had created. They adjusted the gauges, valves, and regulators on the prototypes of the latest ghostbusting weapons.

  Weapons that were untested.

  Weapons they had never used before.

  Slime blowers.

  Venkman tightened the shoulder straps on the slime blower, gazing up at the Statue of Liberty. "Kind of makes you wonder, doesn't it?"

  "Wonder what?" Winston asked.

  "If she's naked under that toga," Venkman replied. "She's French, you know."

  Spengler missed the humor. "There's nothing under that toga but three hundred tons of iron and steel."

  Venkman's face fell. Another dream dashed.

  Stantz was clearly worried about their hastily con­ ceived plan of attack. "I hope we have enough stuff to do the job."

  "Only one way to find out," Venkman said, facing Stantz. "Ready, Teddy?"

  Venkman and Stantz entered the base of the statue and began the long, torturous climb up the spiraling iron staircase within Lady Liberty. The staircase cork­ screwed some one hundred feet inside the hollow su­ perstructure.

  Down below, at the base of the statue, Spengler and Winston assembled hundreds of wires connected to dozens of relays. They carefully mounted the relays to the interior of the gigantic structure.

  At the top of the stairs, Venkman and Stantz installed large auditorium-sized loudspeakers on a section of the statue near Lady Liberty's head.

  That done, Stantz raised his slime blower and gazed at the interior of the Statue of Liberty. "Okay, boys," he commanded. "Let's frost it."

  Venkman and Stantz let loose with wave after wave of psycho-reactive slime. Venkman watched the slime ooze down the interior of the statue, hoping that the plan worked.

  Hoping that he and his ghostbusting buddies had the wherewithal to save Dana and her child.

  Across the river, in the slime-encrusted museum, Janosz smiled in front of the massive portrait of his master, Vigo. Dana sat helplessly in a corner, watching her baby float, suspended in midair, below the horrible face of Vigo.

  Janosz, brush in hand, walked merrily up to the baby and carefully began painting mystical symbols on its little arms and legs.

  Dana felt faint.

  The symbols were identical to the ones Janosz had uncovered on the ancient portrait.

  Unable to take it any longer, she made a mad dash for her child, arms outstretched.

  Before she could make it to little Oscar, she was hit full force by some sort of invisible energy. She was thrown across the room, back into her chair.

  She collapsed in a heap. What had happened to the Ghostbusters? Why hadn't she heard from Louis?

  Louis Tully stood proudly in the Ghostbusters' fire- house. With Janine watching adoringly, he slipped into a Ghostbusters uniform and slung a heavy proton pack onto his back, nearly knocking off his glasses. Louis tested out his mobility, waddling around the lab area on a slight angle. Janine was now worried. There was too much power pack and not enough Louis.

  "I'm
not sure this is such a good idea," she told him. "Do the others know that you're doing this?"

  Louis nodded. "Oh, yeah, sure... well, no. But there's really not much to do here, and they might need some backup at the museum."

  He adjusted his glasses, pulled up his socks, and headed for the front door.

  Janine ran up to him. "You're very brave, Louis. Good luck."

  Janine kissed Louis tenderly.

  His glasses fogged. "Uh, well, I, uh, better hurry."

  Louis dashed out of the firehouse fully armed and marched manfully into the night... . Where, fifteen minutes later, he caught a bus to take him to the museum.

  "I'm not sure I have the right change here, but believe me this is important and—"

  He sniffed the air.

  Behind the steering wheel of the bus was Slimer.

  Slimer sent the bus roaring down the street.

  "You're going in the wrong direction!" Louis whined. "I bet you never even got a real driver's li­ cense!!"

  30

  Venkman , Stantz, Spengler, and Winston stood apprehensively in the observation windows of the Statue of Liberty. Perched in the crown of Lady Liberty, they gazed down at Liberty Island, far below them.

  "It's now or never," Stantz whispered. He plugged in a huge cable that fed into a portable transformer. He checked his watch. "It's all yours, Pete. There's not much time left."

  Venkman nodded and attached a speaker cable into his tiny tape recorder. He snapped his fingers and tapped his left foot. "Okay, a one, and a two, and a three, and a four!"

  He pushed the play button on his Walkman, and instantly the interior of the statue was filled with the soulful strains of Jackie Wilson.

  As the sweet soul music echoed through the sta­ tue's hollow interior, the slime dripping from its sides began to vibrate.

  Slowly, magically, the head of the Statue of Liberty turned this way and that. The Ghostbusters held on to the railing of the observation deck for dear life.

  "She's moving!" Stantz exclaimed.

  Winston was awestruck. "I've lived in New York all my life and I never visited the Statue of Liberty. Now I finally get here and we're taking her out for a walk!"

  Spengler clutched his Giga meter. "We've got full power."

  Stantz picked up the control paddle from a home video game and started pushing buttons. Venkman picked up a hand-held microphone. "Okay, Libby," he commanded, "let's get in gear."

  The statue quivered in response. Lady Liberty raised a titanic left foot and brought it splashing down into the Hudson River. Her right foot followed suit.

  Soon Liberty Island was deserted.

  New Year's Eve celebrants on the shore of New York City, waiting for the traditional fireworks display, were astounded. The Statue of Liberty was swimming toward New York!

  Lady Liberty walked calmly across the bottom of the Hudson, almost completely submerged. Only her head, from the nose up, was visible, the four Ghostbust­ ers navigating her movements from the observation deck.

  The water seemed to be rising rapidly toward them.

  "How deep does it get?" Winston asked. "That water's cold and I can't swim."

  "It's okay. I have my senior lifesaving card," Venk­ man said reassuringly.

  Spengler couldn't help himself. He started calculat­ ing. "Let's see, with a water temperature of forty de­ grees, we'd survive approximately fifteen minutes."

  Stantz had a maritime navigational chart spread out

  before him. "I'll keep to the middle of the channel. We're okay to Fifty-ninth Street. Then we'll go ashore and crosstown and take First Avenue to Seventy-ninth."

  "Are you kidding?" Venkman replied. "We'll hit all that bridge traffic at Fifty-ninth. Take Seventy-second straight across to Fifth. Trust me, I used to drive a cab."

  Stantz continued to maneuver the statue. Jackie Wilson's voice boomed within Lady Liberty's hollow shell. The mood slime continued bopping.

  In Times Square, thousands of people stood shoul­ der to shoulder, noisemakers and confetti in hand. All eyes were glued to the gigantic clock high above their heads. In ten minutes the crowd would begin the count­ down for New Year's.

  Suddenly one spectator pointed.

  Then another, and another.

  From downtown, heading north, marched the most magnificent of sights. The Statue of Liberty was walking up Broadway, striding in step to the superamplified song "Higher and Higher."

  A great cheer arose from the crowd. Party hats and confetti were tossed into the air as the crowd began to dance and sing along with Jackie Wilson.

  Inside the observation deck, Spengler grinned, checking his Giga meter. "Listen to that crowd! The positive GEVs are climbing."

  Venkman patted the statue. "They love you, Lib. Keep it up."

  The colossal statue headed up Broadway toward Central Park. From there Lady Liberty would be a hop, skip, and a jump away from the Manhattan Museum of Art.

  Much to Venkman's amazement, half of the New Year's Eve celebrants from Times Square decided to follow Lady Liberty. He couldn't blame them. They probably didn't get a chance to see something like this too often.

  Lady Liberty and the throngs proceeded toward the museum.

  Farther uptown, the museum, still slime-encrusted, stood, guarded by police.

  Inside the darkened building, Dana watched her child dangle in midair before Vigo. Janosz walked up to her, smiling. "No harm will come to the child," he assured her. "You might even say it's a privilege for him to be the vessel for the spirit of Vigo. And you... well, you will be the mother of the ruler of the world. Doesn't that sound nice?"

  "If this is what the world will be like, I don't want to live in it," Dana vowed.

  Janosz glanced over his shoulder at Vigo. "I don't believe we have the luxury of choice."

  "Everybody has a choice," Dana said, simmering.

  "Not in this case, my dear," Janosz pointed out. "Take a look at that portrait. That's not Gainsborough's Blue Boy up there. That's Vigo."

  "I don't care who he is. I may not be able to stop you, but someone will!"

  Janosz smirked. "Who? The Ghostbusters? They are powerless. Soon it will be midnight and the city will be mine ... and Vigo's. Well, mainly Vigo's . .. but we have a spectacular opportunity to make the best of our relationship."

  Dana looked the wiry artist in the eye. "We don't have a relationship."

  "I know," Janosz agreed. "Marry me, Dana, and together we will raise Vigo as our son. There are many

  perks that come with being the mother of a living god. I'm sure he will supply for us a magnificent apartment. And perhaps a car and free parking."

  Dana pushed the man away. "I hate and despise you and everything you stand for with all my heart and soul. I could never forgive what you've done to me and my child."

  Janosz thought about that. "Many marriages begin with a certain amount of distance, but after a while I believe we could learn to love each other. Think about it."

  "I'd rather not."

  Janosz didn't mind Dana's aloofness. She'd come around once Vigo was reborn. There was nothing that could spoil Vigo's plan for conquest.

  Janosz didn't notice the slight vibration in the floor beneath his feet.

  The source of the vibration strode up Fifth Avenue, led by a squadron of screaming police motorcycles, with tens of thousands of cheering people marching in her wake.

  Lady Liberty, still walking in step to Jackie Wilson's percussive beat.

  From the observation deck the Ghostbusters could spot the museum.

  "So far, so good," Venkman said.

  "I'm worried," Spengler muttered. "The vibrations could shake her to pieces. We should have padded her feet."

  "I don't think they make Reeboks in her size," Stantz replied.

  Venkman patted the statue. "We're almost there, Li b."

  He turned to Stantz. "Step on it."

  Stantz diddled with his controls. Lady Liberty's foot

  came crashing do
wn on a police car. Stantz grimaced. He called down to the startled police in the street. "My fault!"

  "She's new in town," Venkman added.

  He glanced at his watch. The Ghostbusters had less than one minute left to save Dana, her child, and the world in general.

  31

  The crowd at Times Square began count­ ing down the final seconds left in the old year. Ten, nine, eight, seven ...

  In the Restoration Studio of the museum, Janosz also watched the large wall clock while painting the last of the mystical symbols on the levitated baby's chest.

  Soon the world would be his ... well, partly his.

  He glanced at the portrait of Vigo. A strange aura began to spread over the painting. Vigo's eyes glowed. His entire body seemed to radiate energy. The figure in the painting began to spread its arms wide. Slowly but powerfully, Vigo's mighty torso began to assume three dimensions. Vigo was pulling himself out of the paint­ ing.

  His long-dead lungs emitted a mighty, stagnant breath of long-rotting air. "Soon," Vigo intoned, "my life begins! Then, woe to the weak! All power to me. The world is mine."

  Vigo extended a bloodstained hand toward baby Oscar. The baby's body began to glow eerily as Vigo's hand approached it. Dana let out a sob. She had lost. She had lost everything that had ever mattered to her.

  Janosz emitted a wheezing laugh.

  He was caught in mid-wheeze as a large shadow fell over the room. He gaped up through the skylight.

  The Statue of Liberty stood towering above the museum, a look of righteous anger on her freedom- loving face.

  The statue knelt down next to the museum and, drawing back its titanic right arm, smashed into the ceiling with its torch of freedom.

  Janosz let out a feral screech and skittered away, hiding his head from the shower of broken glass and debris. From out of the sky, the four Ghostbusters swung into the room on ropes attached to Lady Liberty's crown.

  Stantz, Venkman, Spengler, and Winston trained their slime blowers on Janosz.