"That should work well now, Janine." Egon Spengler crawled out from under Janine's desk on the ground floor of Ghostbuster Central. "I don't think you'll be able to bump the outlet now. I've shifted it." The blond Ghostbuster climbed to his feet, lay the tools on the corner of her desk in some satisfaction, and dusted off the knees of his blue jumpsuit.

The Ghostbusters' secretary beamed at him affectionately. "Thanks, Egon. I knew I could count on you." She caught his hand in both of hers and squeezed it with gratitude and affection.

With the other three Ghostbusters away for the afternoon, the physicist wasn't nearly as uncomfortable about Janine's displays of affection as usual, and he pressed her hand in return, smiling down at her. He was genuinely very fond of Janine, although he didn't talk about his feelings for her when the guys were around. Peter was a real pro at teasing him unmercifully. Normally Egon could hold his own against Peter's friendly banter just fine, but he was not quite as adept when the subject was the red-haired woman. Gazing down into her smiling blue eyes, he was moved to take a step closer. The rest of the team wouldn't be home for hours, after all. Customers usually telephoned instead of coming by, so no one was likely to walk in.

She slipped into his arms as if she knew he would make no objection and lifted her face to his. He bent his head and covered her lips with his own. The kiss had just begun to grow interesting--and had certainly proved distracting--when an amused voice on the other side of the secretary's desk said, "Ahem!"

In one second, he and Janine leaped a meter apart, turning in perfect unison to confront Peter's father, Charlie Venkman, who stood grinning at them, a twinkle in his eyes, a bushy and obvious toupee upon his head, and a P.K.E. meter in his hand.

"Mr. Venkman," Egon sighed in sheer resignation. He had no hope at all that Charlie would fail to relate the story of the kiss to Peter, probably with x-rated enhancements. "What brings you to New York? Peter's not here today." Maybe he could convince the older man to come back another time....

"So I see. While the cat's away, eh.... " He favored Egon with a man-of-the-world look and winked. He would probably have nudged the physicist with his elbow if he had been close enough. "Don't worry, my boy. Your secret is safe with me. After all, a gentleman should never do anything to upset a lady, right, Miss Janine?" He deposited the meter on the corner of her desk and stroked his mustache with a quick finger.

"If I ever meet a gentleman, I'll tell you," she snapped back, casting a quick, apologetic glance at Egon to show him she didn't include him in her cast of scoundrels. "Other than Egon here, or Ray, or Winston." A dramatic pause.

"What about my boy?" Charlie challenged. Spengler found it interesting to observe he looked far more irritated at his son's exclusion from Janine's list than he did about his own.

"Well, Dr. V does sign my paychecks--when he actually pays me," Janine mused. "And even if he does bug me...."

"My Peter is a fine man," Charlie defended his absent son automatically, glancing around with an edge of worry. "Where is he? I need him--badly."

"What trouble are you in now?" Egon asked in resignation. In the absence of Peter, who hadn't troubled to take a cell phone with him for his day's excursion with his girlfriend-of-the-month, it would be left for Egon to deal with the elder Venkman's current crisis. Peter was thrilled by the new cell phones and had rushed out to get one right away. "Where did you get one of our meters? Did Peter give it to you?" Perhaps this was the explanation for the missing ghost detection device he had been unable to locate last month. If he remembered correctly, Charlie Venkman had visited New York during that period and had spent an afternoon at the converted firehouse visiting his son and his friends.

"Well, he didn't exactly give it to me," Charlie hedged, "but I had hopes of a profitable deal, and I knew the meter would give me the boost I needed. I never meant to keep it, Egon, my boy, just borrow it. See, I've brought it back safe and sound. Last time I was here, I got Ray to show me how to work one of these babies. I want you to check the readings I recorded."

Egon sighed. So that's why Ray hadn't seemed worried about the missing detection device when Egon was searching for it. Ray had known it was missing all along. Of all the Ghostbusters, Stantz trusted Peter's father the most, although even he acknowledged that Charlie wasn't always honest. But he and the elder Venkman had once been trapped for a whole day and night in a Mexican pyramid, and the occultist had emerged with more tolerance for Peter's dad than he'd ever displayed before. "I like him because he really is proud of Peter," Ray had confided to Egon after they'd returned home. "I don't think I ever saw any father as proud of his son. I think that's really neat."

"It would be 'neater'," Egon had replied drily, "if he didn't try to use Peter whenever he got in trouble. And us in the process."

"But I don't think he means to. I just don't think he understands. He likes his scams and honestly thinks he's offering Peter a great deal. In his own mind, he's a great father."

"Only in his mind," Egon had returned, but he had understood the point Ray had been trying to make. Having lost his father early, Ray couldn't help feeling slightly wistful when the subject of fathers came up. A parent who meant well, loved his son, and was proud of him, even if he got that son in trouble, had to be better than none at all. Egon, whose own father had valued scholarship and given rewards for achievement rather than offering undemanding love, could sometimes understand Peter's feelings on the subject better than Ray did.

"What have you found?" Egon was positive Charlie would expect the team to bail him out of whatever trouble he had found for himself, and it behooved him to gain as much information as he could.

Charlie's face fell. "I was afraid you were going to ask that, Egon." He produced a sudden engaging grin. "I was looking for a leprechaun. You know, if I could grab one, I could get his pot of gold. I had some clues that led me to think I could get one." When Egon arched a skeptical eyebrow, Charlie plunged on. "Come on, my boy. Don't look like that. Who would believe you captured the Bogeyman? Or ran into a vampire in Transylvania. Or stopped a Sandman? Why shouldn't there be leprechauns with pots of gold?"

Janine gave a snort of disbelief and looked up at Egon, waiting for him to disprove Charlie's words.

"The fact that you are not in Ireland--" Egon began, prepared to enumerate a long list of scientific reasons why Charlie could not have discovered a leprechaun, especially in the Tri-State Area.

"Think how many Irishmen live in New York," Charlie cut in. "Who'd believe in that bog-hound that was after Police Chief O'Malley a few years ago? Peter told me all about that." He grinned like a conjurer who had just produced a rabbit from his hat.

To forestall further pointless discussion, Egon picked up the meter and checked its playback. Then he frowned. Lifting his eyes, he regarded Charlie in patent disbelief. "Where did you detect these readings?" he challenged.

"Over in Jersey." Charlie gestured with his thumb in approximately the right direction. "An abandoned farmhouse. I'd picked up a few local legends that sounded promising, so I came here, borrowed the meter, and went hunting. I found a couple of class three repeating vapors here and there, but I knew I wanted bigger game than that. So I checked and that's when I found her."

"Her?" Janine arched her eyebrows. "A female leprechaun?" She tapped her temple suggestively. "He's making it up, Egon. Don't trust him."

"Well, she was too big to be a fairy," Charlie argued. "Besides, why shouldn't there be female leprechauns? Where do you think baby leprechauns come from? They hardly pop up under shamrocks."

"And she gave these readings?" Egon ignored that bit of whimsey.

Charlie edged up to him and peered over his shoulder. "Those are the very ones," he said proudly. "Now tell me you think I'm making it up--if you still can."

"What does it mean, Egon?" Janine had complete faith in Spengler's ability to get to the bottom of the problem. Folding her arms across her chest, she cast a defiant look at Charlie.

"These readings have a negative valence," Egon responded. In general, such a reading suggested a physical entity rather than a transparent spirit. Although rarely encountered by the Ghostbusters, vampires and werewolves had negative valences, but they were likely to produce a negative Class 3 or 4 reading to allow for the human component, and a werewolf might not give P.K.E. reading at all except during the full moon. These readings were Class 5, a nether entity, rather than a human ghost, but they were physical, which suggested a being from another dimension. It was possible Charlie Venkman had found an entity that had crossed over from another realm, like the Netherworld, and then closed the door behind itself. An open cross-rip would have shown up on the recorded readings. Therefore, it had not been open at the time Venkman recorded the female entity.

"Tell me about the leprechaun?" Egon requested. Janine prepared to be entertained.

"She's very beautiful. Her hair is as red as Janine's, but she's taller, very slender, very graceful." It was clear from the tone of his voice that he had been much struck by the sight of her.

"Did she have a pot of gold?" Janine put in bluntly as if she suspected the direction Egon's thoughts had taken and wanted to steer him back to the subject at hand.

"She said she could get one," Charlie replied. "And I believed her. She needed my help, she said. She couldn't get back into the realm where her gold was kept and if I helped her, she would give me not one pot of gold but three. I've gotta say that was an offer I couldn't refuse." His shoulders slumped. "At first."

"What went wrong?" Knowing Peter's father, Egon was certain something had.

"I found the body." Worry trickled into Charlie's voice.

"Body!?" Janine's eyes widened in alarm. "You mean a dead body?"

"Well, no, he isn't dead," Charlie said. "But he was catatonic or something. His eyes were open, and he was barely breathing. I had him taken to a hospital." Seeing Egon's lifted brow, he said, "You might not trust me, but I'm not a monster, Egon. I didn't know what happened to the guy, but when they got him to the hospital, they thought he'd had a psychotic episode of some kind. And then it really got weird."

"Weird how?" Egon fiddled with the meter a little, and brought up a second set of readings. Biorhythms. "Did you take these of him?" he asked. It wasn't like Peter's father to be so organized.

"I told them at the hospital that I worked for you boys; I had the meter and they believed me. Ray showed me how to take biorhythm readings and I took these."

"These are the most depressed biorhythm readings I have ever seen in a living human," Egon said thoughtfully. "It's as if his essence has been drained away."

"His essence?" Janine asked uneasily. "What do you mean?"

"His life force," Egon replied. "Not quite to the point of death, but to a level where he could barely survive. It's possible, of course, that this man can come back from the experience, especially since he is hospitalized and receiving treatment. But it's also possible whatever did this to him is still bound to him. That might not show in the readings unless it was actually feeding at the time."

"Feeding?" Charlie's shoulders slumped. "I sure don't like the sound of that."

"Neither do I," Egon replied. "Did your leprechaun show you the body?"

"No. I don't think she wanted me to find it," Charlie admitted. "She said she needed my help and not to go wandering around on my own. But for all I knew, there was gold right there on the property, and I wanted to find out. She gave me a sample, you see. Where'd she get the sample if she didn't have some stashed nearby. So while she was busy, I went and looked around the place. I found the guy in the old barn. I had a cell phone on me--I hafta move with the times--so I called the paramedics. Lera showed up just after I called, and I told her I'd found some poor schmuck and called for an ambulance. I don't think she was very happy, but she said it was my business, not hers, and that she didn't bother with the affairs of mortals. She left and I couldn't find her when the ambulance came."

Egon frowned. It seemed obvious to him that Lera might have had something to do with the victim's state. Perhaps she required human energy and would have drained Charlie, had he not called for backup.

"So you've gotta come, you and the other boys," Charlie persisted. "Because I thought it over and figured she was involved in whatever happened to that guy. She's a Class 5 after all. I never heard of leprechauns hurting people, but then she just claimed to be a leprechaun when I asked her. She didn't come up with it on her own. She never showed me any pots of gold, just a sample. It could have been a major scam. Or she could be in trouble. Maybe whoever zapped that guy is after her," he rattled out the possibilities.

"She might be inimical to the safety of humans." Egon considered the possibilities.

"Then you'll get the guys and we'll go and bust it," Charlie urged.

"I can't do that. Peter is out for the day with a date, and I have no way to contact him. Ray drove his Aunt Lois to Atlantic City and probably won't be back until dinner time. Winston's in Boston. His cousin was married up there yesterday. He should be back by dinnertime as well."

"Looks like I've gotta go on my own," Charlie said in obvious disappointment. "I'm gonna get my gold out of this or know the reason why. Egon, let me borrow the meter again. I can use it to warn myself if she's coming. I know the money's there and I won't leave it."

"I think the odds are extremely high against there being so much as one gold coin anywhere on the premises," Egon said restrainingly. Tomorrow, he would take a team to the farm, and until then, Mr. Venkman would have to wait. Surely it would be safe enough to wait one day.

"Oh, no?" Charlie dug into his trousers' pocket and produced a coin slightly bigger than a silver dollar. It gleamed with a rich golden cast that made Janine draw a fascinated breath and edge closer. "Then what do you think of this? Lera said it was a sample of what I'd get if I helped her."

Egon plucked the coin from Charlie's hand. It looked as if it had been hand minted, a rough, abstract design stamped on it slightly off-center, a squiggle mark at the bottom of the design that might indicate denomination. The other side was blank but for a repeat of the squiggle.

Egon took a reading of the coin. It gave off no energy of its own, but faint residuals clung to it as if it had been handled repeatedly by ectoplasmic beings before Charlie obtained it. The weight of it in the physicist's hand suggested it might really be gold, very pure gold. Charlie's eyes never left the coin.

"Lera gave it to me as a sign of good faith," he said. "I think she's in trouble. I'm going back there, whether you help me or not."

"You don't entirely trust her," Egon pointed out. "What will one day matter? Don't take a risk like this. Tomorrow, the whole team will be back. We'll go out with you."

"So you're gonna sit and wait?" Charlie said stubbornly. "That guy in the hospital looked pretty awful. They don't know if he's gonna make it. What if somebody else goes by and gets sucked dry?"

Egon made an exasperated sound. While it was not practical for only one Ghostbuster to face such a threat, he couldn't let Peter's father go into trouble alone, and if indeed there were even a slight chance of a repeat occurrence, the area should be investigated, possibly cordoned off. Imagining Peter's reaction if Egon confessed he had let Charlie go into danger on his own, and the way his own conscience would disturb him if he ignored the threat, the physicist heaved a regretful sigh.

"You're not going out there with him?" Janine put a restraining hand on Egon's arm. "It sounds dangerous."

"That's why I must go today," Egon replied. "Should I discover a paranormal danger there, I can have the area cordoned off. I won't attempt to do anything beyond what one man would be capable of. But I must check it out."

"He won't be good backup for you." Janine stabbed an accusing finger at Mr. Venkman. "At the first sign of trouble, he'll run like a rabbit."

Charlie drew himself up to his full height in a display of offended dignity. "I won't run. Give me a proton pack and thrower. I know how your weapons work. Maybe I'm not as good with them as you boys are, but a little extra firepower never went amiss. If it's too risky, we can always come back." He turned to the secretary. "I won't get your boyfriend killed, Miss Janine. I promise." He cleared his throat. "Peter would never forgive me."

"You're right, he wouldn't," Janine said. "And neither would I. Both of us have very long memories, too, and we can both hold grudges. So if anything happens to Egon, you'll have to face the wrath of Melnitz." She glared at him to prove she meant it. "And Peter won't forgive you, either. Ever."

"I'll be fine, Janine," Egon assured her. "I'll simply block off the area, and recruit the local police to close a road or two. I'll take every precaution. When Ray arrives, ask him to put the atomic destabilizer back together and bring it out. We've been working on it and it's in pieces. Hopefully I won't need it, and, if I do, I'll pull back and wait. It may prove to be nothing at all," he reassured her. "Although these readings seem to indicate otherwise. Mr. Venkman?" He turned to the older man. "I want you to give Janine precise instructions how to reach the farm. Show her on a map. Janine, if I have not returned or telephoned you by four P.M, I want you to find Peter. Winston should be back by then or shortly thereafter, and Ray, too." He patted her shoulder. "I don't believe it will take that long. If I choose to wait and guard the site, I will make sure you are notified."

"Oh, Egon, be careful." She walked into his arms and kissed him again, this time with urgent concern. When she released him, she turned to Charlie and stabbed his chest with a threatening finger. "If anything happens to him, you are dead meat."

"My word of honor, Miss Janine," Charlie said, sketching a cross across his chest right where she had poked him.

For what that is worth, Egon thought wryly as he went to put on his jumpsuit and collect his equipment.

Ray had driven his Aunt Lois to Atlantic City in her car and Peter had departed by cab, so Ecto-1 was available. Egon and Charlie drove out to New Jersey engaging in sporadic conversation along the way. Two men with less in common would be hard to imagine. Peter was the only link between them. As they neared the site, Egon questioned the older man more thoroughly about the mysterious Lera.

"How did you find her in the first place?"

Charlie hemmed and hawed a minute. "Somebody said the place was haunted," he admitted. "I know you boys are on the up and up, but sometimes people fake hauntings, so I thought I'd take a peek. Besides..." He hesitated.

"Besides?" Egon echoed encouragingly.

Charlie grimaced. "Well, things were a little hot for me. I figured I could lay low there for a day or two until the heat cooled off."

"A scam," Egon muttered disgustedly.

"Well, yeah. It's what I do, after all." He produced a deprecating grin.

"So you first encountered Lera at the farm?"

Relieved to avoid a lecture on his chosen profession, Charlie bobbed his head enthusiastically. "I was looking around through the house when I found her hiding." His voice warmed. "Best thing I'd seen in a long time."

"How was she dressed?"

"Good question," Charlie lauded as if Egon had just won Final Jeopardy. "She wasn't dressed in clothes from our world, at least like none I ever saw. Loose and flowing stuff, layers of it. Besides, she had pointed ears."

Involuntarily Egon squashed down the mental image of a Vulcan in fairy dress that darted across his mind. "Easily faked," he said. "Ray came home from a Star Trek convention once with a very good pair of Spock ears."

"They didn't look Vulcan," Charlie insisted. "Come on, Egon, you can't con a con man. Yeah, she wanted something from me, but she was gonna give gold for it. She produced that sample up front."

Egon suspected Charlie had such a high opinion of his scamming skills he didn't believe he could be scammed in return. It was an attitude that could easily lead to his downfall.

Stopping the car, Egon reached for his P.K.E. meter and activated it, then frowned, studying the screen for readings. The antennae stirred slightly to indicate a paranormal presence. At more than a mile away, that indicated trouble. He passed the detection device to Venkman to hold and drove on. As they turned down the side road Charlie said led to the farm, a steady beeping began.

"This is a lot stronger than what I got before," Charlie murmured dubiously. He craned his neck to see. "I don't like it."

"Nor do I." Egon slowed to a stop again. He reached for the meter, pondering the display. Considerable power, strong enough to indicate an active cross-rip. A gateway had opened between this world and another dimension or world.

As he watched the screen, the power faded abruptly. At once the beeping slowed, the antennae lowered, although the unusual overlay remained, strong and powerful.

"What's wrong?" Charlie gestured nervously with his hands.

"The door to the other dimension closed, leaving great power behind." It might be safe to approach cautiously now and study the readings at closer proximity, although the rip could open again at any time.

The farm was fully visible ahead of them. A line of pine trees marked the driveway, and a fence set off the farmyard from the first of the fields. The house itself was white, several stories high, with a porch that stretched across its entire front. A rather battered Victorian tower with the windows on the top floor boarded up rose a floor above the rest of the house. Beyond the house itself was the old barn where Charlie must have found the unconscious man. It was in poor a state of repair with its wide doors hanging ajar, and the entire structure had a crooked lean to it as if a gentle push would collapse it sideways. Various other outbuildings flanked it, smaller and in a similar state of disrepair. The lawn had run wild and a broken down tractor with one tire emerged drunkenly from the weeds in a state of rust. The sensation of desertion was very strong, yet the readings indicated something odd here.

They parked a quarter of a mile down the road and both men put on proton packs. Although Charlie complained strenuously about its weight, he showed no disposition to remove it. "I think Lera was afraid she'd be found," he mused. "That's why she wanted me to help her."

"How did she mean for you to help her, precisely?" Egon asked. He needed to learn what was behind all this and he did not have enough information to formulate a theory.

"She wanted me to take her away from here--to the city--find her fake papers, an identity. I told her I could do that. In return, she meant to pay me in gold. She doesn't know what gold is worth here; it's more common where she comes from, she said. Look, Egon, maybe she wanted to scam me, but if I get the gold out of it, that's all I care about, and besides she was nice to me." He smiled rather suggestively and waggled his eyebrows.

"So I see. Mr. Venkman, there is danger here. I don't plan to enter the barn or the farmhouse, merely to take readings close at hand. I expect you to follow my lead. I don't wish to tell Peter I let you die through a miscalculation. You are here as backup, no more. Do you understand?"

"I can handle myself," Venkman replied rather smugly. "I've been around a lot longer than you have, Egon. I won't get in your way."

Egon shook his head. If he hadn't suspected great danger and needed more information, he would have returned to the city to await his friends' return. But he did suspect danger. A cross-rip was nothing to mess with.

"Follow me," he said, and started down the road toward the farmhouse.

Charlie fell in behind him, his thrower gripped as if it were a shotgun. Hastily, Egon moved to one side. He didn't want to be in Venkman's line of fire.

The farmhouse appeared deserted. No vehicles were evident, although a car or truck might be hidden in the barn. Unlike a working farm, the place had no chickens, no cattle, not even a dog racing about the yard. The absence of animals convinced Egon the farm itself was not in use, but that didn't mean entities couldn't have taken possession of the abandoned structure. This close, the scientist could detect a couple of Class 5 readings with the same negative valence Charlie had recorded earlier.

"There are two of them," he said in an undertone as they halted in the shade of an elm tree, up against a rail fence that divided the farmyard from the field. A few strands of barbed wire tangled through the wooden slats.

"Two! Lera was the only one here before. Maybe she's been caught. We'd better go help her."

"Not without further information," Egon replied firmly, catching Venkman's arm to restrain his uncharacteristic bravery. "Come on." He tucked his meter into his pocket and climbed the fence. Venkman scrambled awkwardly after him and immediately drew his thrower again.

The two men circled the house, checking the readings. The entities were both inside, at a lower level; probably the cellar. Egon gestured downward, and Charlie nodded. "She was in the basement before," he explained. "She was hiding there. Scared to death."

"Did she say what she was afraid of?" Egon asked.

"No. All she said was that they'd come from her world and drag her back."

"So she escaped her world, a place that terrified her, but she was willing to return there to fetch gold in order to make you help her?" Egon frowned. "That is not remotely logical."

Charlie scratched his head. His toupee shifted alarmingly. "You know, Egon, you're right. I should have seen that."

The meter beeped, shifted, and Egon whirled around. He had just enough time to see two glowing figures, almost but not quite transparent, materializing. One of them was female, red-haired, and strikingly beautiful. The male was handsome, too, but it was a dark and sullen beauty, marred by resentment and anger.

"Lera!" cried Venkman in delight, holding out his hands to her. "I'm back."

Egon saw the woman's face, proud, terrible, beautiful, eyes full of unexpected warmth at the sight of Charlie Venkman, and of something else that might have been hunger. She was exotic, the tips of her ears rising to elegant points, far longer and narrower than Mr. Spock's. Her eyes were greener than Peter's and they held an otherworldly glow. To Egon's surprise, she took Venkman's hands in her own and squeezed them. Charlie's face lit up and he beamed fatuously. The touch did not appear to hurt him.

Her male companion was several inches taller than Egon, who was usually the tallest man in any given place this side of the NBA. There was nothing of humanity in the male's aloof, imperious features, unless it was the petulance of his expression.

Before Egon could fire, the male entity reached him, touched his forehead--and the world went away in a blinding rush. He didn't even feel the ground rise up to hit him when he fell.

"Egon? Egon, my boy, can you hear me? You've gotta wake up. Come on, Egon." A hand chafed his cheek. "Wake up."

The words were clear but at first they held no connection with reality. Washing over him like wind or birdsong, they meant as little as that. Gradually they turned into words he could understand, and Egon groaned.

"That's it. Wake up. Come on. We've gotta get out of here."

He opened his eyes and the dimly lit room caused a fierce explosion of pain in his head. Moaning, he squeezed his eyes tightly shut.

"It passes," the older man encouraged. Older man? Charlie Venkman. Memory flooded back. He had come with Peter's father. But the entities had been ready, waiting for them. The male had touched him....

"My head," he groaned. It wasn't purposeful speech, not yet, but thinking required all his energy, leaving none yet for communication.

"Easy, easy, I know," Charlie soothed. "It'll be all right. Come on, Egon, wake up."

"I am awake," Egon admitted. "Let me think."

"Okay, but think fast, because I think we're gonna be the blue plate special," Charlie replied. "Lera didn't hurt me, but her buddy sure zapped you--and he's got a lean and hungry look I don't like."

That made Egon slit his eyes open, allowing a little of the light to reach him. It didn't hurt quite as badly this time. "What do you mean?"

"Take a look at our cellmates." Charlie gestured expansively.

That sounded ominous. Egon tried to push himself up, but he needed Peter's father's support to sit up. Charlie helped him lean back against the wall. The two of them were confined in a root cellar, shelves lined with cobweb-covered canning jars opposite them. Overhead, a forty-watt bulb, suspended from a cord that dangled from the ceiling, illuminated the room. Under the glow that hurt his eyes, Egon turned his head and froze. Stacked up along the back wall were three bodies. Eyes open, they looked dead, gazing sightlessly at the ceiling. But the three men were not dead. Like the victim Charlie Venkman had found, they were breathing slowly, alive, but unaware.

Egon reached automatically for his P.K.E. meter. His hand came up empty.

"They took your meter," Charlie explained. "Right after he zapped you."

"Er, zapped me?"

"Sucked out energy, I think," Venkman explained. "That guy touched you and you went completely limp. Lera touched me too, but not as hard. You know, grabbed my hands. I got a little woozy but didn't black out. I think she still wants me to help her. They need somebody. Only I brought you so she doesn't trust me now, not like she did. They're talking about holding you hostage while they send me after what they need."

"They would trust you to return?" Egon asked skeptically. He wasn't prepared to entrust his life to Charlie Venkman. "And what is it they need?" Judging from the way he felt, he could tell what they needed. He simply didn't know what they planned to do. He would have to be very careful.

"I told them you were my son's best friend and he'd kill me if I let anything happen to you," Charlie babbled. "I figured if they didn't think you were leverage, they'd finish sucking your life out of you and put you over there with the others."

"And you would be useful to them only if they believed you would accept me as a hostage," Egon replied.

"Peter will kill me if I let them suck out your life force," Charlie replied as if it proved his point. "They didn't tell me what they needed, anyway. I'd tell you if I knew."

Egon didn't trust Charlie's reasoning and he wasn't entirely sure that Peter's father would level with him, even now. Peter wasn't here and the beings were. A total opportunist, Charlie would say or do whatever he thought would let him survive. Egon's chances were not very good. He had several examples before him. "Why do they do it?" he asked, gesturing at the unconscious men.

"Why do we drink water?" Charlie returned. "Lera said they eat energy to live, and the best kind is what they get from people. I mean, they can suck it out of small animals, but that's like eating a candy bar. You can't live on it."

"They told you this?" Egon asked in disbelief, rubbing his aching eyes.

"Lera did. She says she likes me. So she told me what was happening. Her buddy didn't want her to, but she made him leave and talked to me. Not about the candy bar; she doesn't know what candy bars are. But the rest. They pulled some energy from you, but not enough to make you like them." He jerked his thumb toward the catatonic victims at the far wall. "I've been trying to get you to wake up for two hours."

Egon massaged his temples. There was more to this than Charlie was telling him. "Charlie--tell me exactly what happened between the two of you when you met."

The older man looked uncomfortable, but didn't answer.

"You knew Lera fed on life forces, didn't you? Did she try to drain yours?"

"No, she never drained...." Charlie's voice trailed off and realization crept over his face. "I--"

"What did she do?" Egon demanded in resignation.

"I thought it was just--she's a lot younger than I am," Charlie explained without meeting Egon's eyes. "I thought maybe I just couldn't...you know, keep up...." He looked embarrassed.

"You slept with her and she drew energy from you then?" Egon hazarded.

"I didn't know she was...like this," the older man defended himself. "When I found the man in the barn, she pretended to be upset and said she'd been found and her pursuers had done it. But I think she'd been draining me just a little, not enough to hurt me, but maybe because she just couldn't help it. Only I didn't know it. I just thought it was because she was so...." His cheeks reddened faintly.

"I take your point." Egon had no desire to discuss Lera's sexual acrobatics with Peter's father. It appeared Lera and Co. believed they had a use for Charlie Venkman, or at least for one gullible human they could dupe into doing their bidding. He wasn't yet sure what their bidding would entail, but he did not think they were benevolent. No matter what happened, he would have ended up the same as the other victims in the end. But then, why had the entity's eyes warmed at the sight of Charlie? A promised meal? Or something more?

"So what're we gonna do?" Charlie worried. "They took the proton packs. Lera said they were gonna move Ecto-1 so if anybody came looking, they wouldn't find it."

"But Janine knows exactly--" Egon fell silent. It was possible their conversation was monitored and the last thing he wanted was to expose Janine to danger. "--when we're due back," he concluded hastily, shooting a warning glance at Venkman. "She'll call out the marines to look for us."

"The, er, marines will not find you." Lera glided into the root cellar. She paused to gaze down at them, then she knelt at Venkman's side and stroked his cheek. Charlie tried to jerk away from her touch, but she drew no energy from him. He didn't sag or weaken, and his trembling was due to fear rather than an attack. When he realized he was not being hurt, he relaxed.

"My sweet Charlie, do you fear me?" Lera's voice held disappointment. "After all we have been to each other? After you taught me the ways your people share? It was...most satisfactory."

"Your people don't make love?" the older man asked in astonishment. He looked and sounded frightened, but he couldn't help displaying a touch of ego.

"We had no need of it," she said. "But that can change. I don't know if it will be so satisfactory with one of my own people, for I can derive no energy from them, but as a means of feeding, it will be most pleasant." Her fingers caressed his ear. "I will not kill you, my sweet Charlie. You know that. I like you. You have given me much pleasure, and you will help my people."

"What are you going to do to me?" Venkman asked in a shaky voice.

"Now? Why, nothing. I simply came to ask for that pleasure again." She smiled, and Egon could not tell if the anticipation in her eyes was hunger--or simple desire.

"Here?" Charlie asked blankly, casting a sideways glance at Egon.

"Of course not. You told me your kind preferred privacy. Come. I might take a little of your energy, but I will leave you strong enough to walk back here when we are done."

Charlie cast a wild, panic-stricken eye at the physicist, then he scrambled to his feet. Egon couldn't tell if he were eager for a repeat performance or just afraid to deny her. Egon didn't expect Charlie to learn anything useful or seize the moment. If he had a chance, he might break and run, but he wouldn't stop to remember Egon, locked in the root cellar on his flight to freedom.

Lera knelt before Egon. "You will live, for now," she said. "My sweet Charlie has no ethics, a fact which caused me to choose him as my helper. But he tells me you and his son are friends. Perhaps that will serve to restrain him--and you. As long as you have use as a hostage, you will live. I understand you might expect rescue early this evening. Do not believe it. They will not find you. If necessary, we can retreat to the other side of the passage, out of range of their equipment. Even if your friends come with their weapons, they cannot harm us." She snapped her fingers. The door opened and her male companion entered, carrying the two missing proton packs, throwers and traps attached. He set both of them down in front of Egon. "We are returning your property to you, for we are not thieves," she said, smiling. "We found the energy in your weapons...most palatable. Well-fed, I have no need to harm my sweet Charlie." She drew Venkman to his feet and led him to the door.

The male followed her, eyes on Egon. Spengler didn't feel well enough to stand yet, let alone attack him, and the packs had both been drained of energy and were useless as weapons.

The male paused in the doorway. "Be grateful your weapons fed us so well. It gives us added incentive to let you live for a time. I must say I am...completely sated. Not even your returning energy tempts me. It was...almost more than I could eat. When my people come to your world, it is good to know that we can feed on more than life-energy." He closed the door behind him and Egon heard a key turn in the lock.

For a moment after their departure, the Ghostbuster sagged, collecting his strength, then he pushed himself up to his hands and knees and crawled over to the unconscious men. He took their pulses and listened to their breathing. It was almost as if they had been put into stasis. They did not react to his presence.

Egon closed their eyes to prevent them from drying out, and positioned them as comfortably as possible. Other than periodic monitoring, he could do nothing for them now. He didn't even have water to give them. Later, when his own energy returned, he might be able to help them. His strength was growing slowly, but it might be an hour or more before he was back to normal. The door was locked, and he suspected the male entity waited on the other side. His prison had been dug into the bare earth; there were no other doors, no windows. Escape seemed unlikely, when the two drained proton packs were the only equipment he possessed.

That made him stop and search his pockets. The cell phone was gone; if Lera had seen Charlie making his phone call earlier she might have understood it was a means of communication and removed it. Someone had also taken his Swiss army knife. He still had his wallet and his pocket change, but the keys to Ecto-1 were missing. His captors had left him his clothing, his glasses and his wristwatch, but none of those items could help him dig his way out of an underground prison.

He moved back toward where he'd been sitting. Something caught his eye and he saw his walki-talki where he'd been lying. Relieved, he snatched it and pushed the transmit button. "Is anyone in range? Respond, please."

Static crackled at him. Perhaps being underground limited the range, which was, in any case, not great. He could only try it periodically and hope for a chance to warn the guys when they came to his rescue. He didn't mean them to walk into this trap, not if he could prevent it.

Also on his belt was a flashlight, which might prove useful later. Evidently the entities had perceived neither item as a threat.

His inventory complete, he dragged himself to his feet and made his unsteady way to the door. Locked, of course; he'd heard the male lock it. Very solid, made of metal. With an active proton pack and particle thrower, he could have melted a way free, but the packs were not self-regenerating. They required a lengthy recharging process back at the firehall.

Next Egon carefully examined each wall, the ceiling, the floor. No other exits.

Very well. He had a mind; there were always solutions. He simply had to reason out what this solution would be. Rescue would come, but rescue armed with proton packs that would only energize the enemy. If the walkie-talkie didn't work, he couldn't warn the guys of the danger they were walking into.

Egon sat down to gather his strength while he reasoned out a solution to his problem. He couldn't count on Charlie Venkman to help him. Charlie might mean well, but he would put himself first every single time. Egon needed to save them both and prevent Lera and her people from crossing over, especially if they meant to do to the people of Earth what had already been done to the three unconscious men and the one in the hospital, and he would have to do it without the use of proton packs or any of the Ghostbusters usual weapons.

It seemed an impossible task.

Peter Venkman strolled into Ghostbuster Central around three-thirty, on top of the world. His date with Becca had gone extremely well. He was prepared to put up his feet and enjoy the rest of the day. But when he let himself into the converted firehouse, Janine, who had been hovering at her desk, launched herself at Peter like a guided missile, grabbed his arms, and cried, "Thank goodness you're back." It wasn't Janine's usual greeting--she was more inclined to sarcasm and wisecracks when he was around. Something was wrong.

"I get that all the time," he returned with forced lightness.

She ignored his levity. "Egon's in trouble and it's all your fault."

"My fault? How the heck can it be my fault? I wasn't even here." He caught himself. "He didn't go on a bust alone, did he? He wouldn't pull something so stupid. Come on, Janine, you're scaring me."

"Your father came," she said, and Peter had an ugly premonition of where this was going.

"You can't tell me he scammed Egon? Egon doesn't trust him an inch. He wouldn't have bought into it."

"He 'bought' the readings your dad brought on the P.K.E. meter he 'borrowed' from here last month." Janine steered Peter inexorably back to her desk. "Egon was only going to check it out from a distance. He said if he wasn't back by four to send you guys in as soon as you got home."

Peter glanced at his watch. It wasn't four yet, but Egon wouldn't allow Janine to worry until the last minute, unless he was in danger, or unless he had become so caught up in the crisis he had simply not thought of it, or had time to make the call. "Did he take the cell phone?" Peter demanded. "Have you tried to call him?"

"Yes, he took it, but when I tried to check on him, I couldn't get through. Then I tried Ecto's mobile phone," Janine explained. "He didn't answer."

They stared at each other speculatively. "Doesn't mean he's in trouble," Peter insisted, although he couldn't conceive of a situation involving his father that didn't involve trouble. His father's scams had a tendency to go wrong. He propped his hip on the corner of her desk. "Tell me about it."

"Well, your dad said he'd found a leprechaun...."

It sounded like another of his dad's get-rich-quick schemes. Pots of gold at the end of a rainbow, as pointless as most of his grandiose plans. "Yeah, right," he said doubtfully.

"With a Class 5 negative valence." Janine poked him in the chest with her finger. "He did find something, Peter, even if he said she was female and gorgeous."

"Female and gorgeous?" Peter brightened, but then he rejected his automatic reaction. "But it was an entity, right?"

"Yes, and then he found a body." Janine explained hastily, filling him in on Charlie's impressions, Egon's reactions to the readings, and the physicist's reasons for deciding to go without waiting for the others. "Honestly, he didn't mean to do any busting until the rest of you arrived," Janine explained. "He meant to see how dangerous it was. He said if something there had done that to the catatonic guy, he might need to cordon off the farm."

"But if he'd done that, he'd have called back to let you know," Peter finished. "Unless he's just watching and the phone is out of range or the batteries are dead...." His voice trailed off. Egon would have tested the phone before leaving. Peter might grab up a phone without checking, but never Egon.

The door opened and Winston Zeddemore strolled in, weekend tote bag in hand. "Hey, guys," he said. "The wedding went...." He fell silent and took a second look at them. "What's wrong?"

Peter told him. "Egon should be checking in any time now," he concluded, "only Janine thinks he'd have called earlier. It might be nothing; he might call right at four, but you know how my dad gets...." He felt sick. Charlie was so much a me-first kind of guy Peter wouldn't trust him to back up his friend. The old scam artist would be more apt to run, even if it meant leaving Egon with no one at his back.

"What's he up against?" Winston asked practically.

"Class five, negative valence." Peter picked up the meter Egon had left behind for Ray to check when he returned home and studied the readings. "Look at this. Slimer's class 5, but his readings aren't negative."

"You mean it's a physical entity?" Winston frowned. "That could be nasty. Did Egon take the atomic destabilizer?"

"No," Janine replied. "Ray was doing some work on it yesterday and it wasn't fully reassembled. Egon felt Ray could complete it and bring it if there was trouble."

"You know how to reassemble it?" Peter asked Winston hopefully. Peter could assemble a thrower if he had to, but the destabilizer was more complicated and the last thing he wanted to do was screw it up and mess with Egon's chances.

"Depends on how much work it needs," Winston replied. "I'll go up and see, change into my jumpsuit, and give it a shot. I want you to get a couple of ordinary proton packs. They weren't all in Ecto, were they, Janine?"

"No, he only took two with him," she replied, gesturing over at the lockers where two more packs sat stacked and ready.

Winston took the stairs two at a time. Peter watched him go. He was glad Winston had worked with Ray so much, and of his undergraduate engineering degree. One of Zeddemore's jobs was equipment maintenance, so he'd learned how to take things apart and put them together again. Egon and Ray did the most delicate work, but Winston was no slouch in that department either.

Peter shook his head. Then he went over to his locker and got out his jumpsuit, slid into it over his street clothes, and sat down on the edge of Janine's desk to lace up his boots. "Janine, honey, you do know where they went, don't you?"

She gestured to the map on her desk. "I wouldn't have let him go without telling me where he'd be." They bent over it, brown head and red close together as she stabbed her finger onto the site she'd marked with a big, red 'X'. "Here."

"New Jersey," Peter muttered, wryly. "Figures."

"I'm coming with you," the secretary insisted.

Peter shook his head. "No, Janine. You have to wait for Ray so he he'll know what's coming down. You can come with him if you haven't heard from Egon by then. He'll have his aunt's car so he can drive you out there. But Winston and I need to borrow your car."

Janine grimaced. The guys had rarely used her car without adding a few new dents and scrapes to the collection, and on two occasions they had totally trashed it. Her insurance rates were terrible. "Okay, but if you break it you pay for it," she threatened.

"No argument?" He lifted a brow.

"Egon's in trouble. I'd take you out there on the back of a bicycle if there wasn't any other way."

"He might not be in trouble yet," Venkman soothed, although both of them knew it could be false comfort. Worry for the man that both of them loved in their different ways created a sense of harmony between them. "The Ghostbusters take care of their own." He heaved a sigh. The thing that gets me is that Egon knows what my dad's capable of. Look at that mess down in Mexico. He nearly got Ray killed." When Peter's dad was around, reason and logic flew out the door. If anything happened to Egon, Peter would blame himself. If both of them got in trouble....

Janine patted his arm. "I trust Egon. He's can handle anything. You know he can. It's just...." She hesitated.

"You can say it," Peter told her. "Dad's capable of taking off if it gets too hairy and leaving him without backup. He'd run out on me, and I'm his own son." If his dad left Egon to fend for himself and anything went wrong, Peter planned to take him apart, piece by piece.

"Egon knew that when he went." She squeezed his arm and let go. "He remembers Mexico just as well as you do. And the time with Hob Anagarok. But if ghosts zapped that guy your dad found, Egon had to go. You know how he is about saving the world even if it kills him. I just wish...."

Peter knew exactly what she wished. "We'll head out there the minute Winston gets the destabilizer together," he promised. "We'll find him. As soon as Ray gets here, you two come out to join us. There's a proton pack upstairs for Ray. And if Winston or I use the destabilizer there'll be a spare pack for you." He gripped her shoulders. "It's nearly four o'clock. Egon could call any minute or walk in that door."

"But you don't think he's going to, do you?"

Peter shook his head. "I think he and my dad are in a fix or he would have called already. I'd better go up and see how Winston is coming."

"Here I am." Winston hurried down the stairs, his arms full of the destabilizer. "I've got most of it done, all the small stuff. I can do the rest as we go. You can drive."

Janine held out her keys. "Take my cell phone. If Egon calls, I'll let you know."

"You do that, lady," Winston urged. He gave her an encouraging grin. "We'll bring him back."

"You'd better," she said. Struggling valiantly not to let her worry show, she added in a much more normal voice, "And if you let Dr. V mess up my car, you can leave him in Jersey."

"I love you too, Janine." Peter grinned wryly, tucked the phone into his pocket, and led the way to the door, pausing only long enough to scoop up the two proton packs that sat waiting by the lockers.

"If Slimer comes back, I'll send him to help you," she called as they started out.

"My life is complete."

Janine closed her eyes. Right after Peter and Winston left, she started phoning Atlantic City. She knew the name of Aunt Lois' hotel, but while Mrs. Stantz had checked in several hours earlier, she was not in her room. Janine hoped that meant she was enjoying the casinos, not that she was still dining with Ray.

The team needed Ray's expertise. Peter and Winston were great at what they did, but they didn't understand the fine points of the paranormal as well as Ray did.

Egon.... Janine ached with worry for him. She should have known better than to let him go off alone with Mr. Venkman. Taking risks to save the world was such a part of Egon's nature he wouldn't have hesitated even if he'd only had Slimer as backup. His heroic bravery was one of the many things Janine loved about him. She knew he'd been right go to, but Janine had gotten Charlie's number the first time she met him, when she'd bought that ghost repeller poncho from him a few years back. He was trouble.

She tried to psych herself up. It might be nothing; Egon might meet Peter when he arrived and report the danger was past. But Janine still had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Sometimes she claimed to be psychic, but those feelings didn't strike very often. Today she had such a bad feeling she jumped when a car backfired outside.

Snap out of it, Melnitz, she instructed herself. Egon's gonna be fine.

"Hi, Janine. Where are the guys?"

Ray's cheerful greeting startled her out of her thoughts. He closed the door behind him and started across the garage. Unable to wait, Janine threw herself from her chair and raced to meet him. "Egon's in trouble!"

The color drained out of his face. "How bad? Where is he? Where are Peter and Winston?"

She told him as quickly and succinctly as she could, grateful to note he marched to his locker and took out his jumpsuit as she spoke. "Gosh." He kicked off his shoes and slid his legs into the coveralls. "We've gotta get out there right away."

"I'm ready," she said, gesturing at her own jumpsuit. "I'm coming too."

Ray knew better than to argue with her. As they grabbed up the spare packs, and carried them out to Aunt Lois' reliable old Buick, he was already planning and theorizing about the ghost. "Peter's dad," he murmured. "He sure knows how to get in trouble. I bet Peter's really pissed off at him."

"I think you could safely say that," Janine conceded with a faint smile.

"Egon's gonna be fine," Ray insisted. He encircled her shoulders and gave her a quick squeeze. "I just know he is," he said as he opened the door for her and ushered her into the passenger seat.

"I know it, too," she agreed. But she was afraid her 'knowledge' was no more than wishful thinking.

Egon was frowning over a mathematical formula for the time involved in detaching one of the metal shelves across the room and using it as a shovel when the door opened. Charlie Venkman staggered into the room, thrust in by the male entity with a hard shove. Before Egon could leap to his feet, the door clashed shut again. Venkman stumbled, put out a hand to steady himself, and knocked a jar from the shelves. It shattered on the concrete floor, permeating the room with the smell of peaches. At least they wouldn't starve, Egon through wryly as he caught the older man and steadied him.

"I'm all right," Charlie said immediately. He wore an expression that combined utter panic with temporary satiation and furtive calculation. "A little shaky on my pins. Maybe they're like vampires, Egon. Instead of sucking your blood, they suck out your energy. She took some of mine. You know, like a succubus."

Egon had already considered that possibility. While he had waited for Venkman's return, he'd monitored the victims in the corner. Although they had improved fractionally, he doubted they would fully recover without hospitalization. "I trust it was worth it?" he said dryly. "As you may know, the female black widow spider kills its mate--"

"I'm not dead," Charlie pointed out hastily. "I don't know if it was...worth it, 'specially when a guy's scared to death and doesn't know if he can perform or not. What choice did I have, though? She was gonna have her way no matter what I did. 'Sides, I thought maybe I could learn something." A fleeting smile touched his mouth.

"And did you?" He grasped the older man's wrist to take his pulse. It seemed a little elevated.

"They want to bring more of their people through," Charlie admitted. "She let that other guy through right before we got here. She was kind of an advance scout. There's a whole bunch of them over there, and they eat energy."

"What source?" Egon asked. Eating energy was all too obvious. "If they are unable to feed off each other...."

"Animals, just like we do," Charlie said. "And they have a whole system that channels electrical storms. They eat lightning, Egon."

"Not to mention proton packs. The guys should arrive fairly soon. It's four o'clock. I told Janine I would contact her by then and I haven't. She'll send the guys after me the minute they get home. They'll have no way of knowing the packs will prove useless. They'll be walking into danger unprepared." No, not completely unprepared. His disappearance would warn them to be cautious. He took the walkie talkie from his belt and made another try. "Peter? Ray? Winston?"

Static answered him.

"Whoa, that's great," the older man said. "They didn't take it?"

"No, and if you mention it to your lady friend I shall be very angry with you." Egon shut off the walkie talkie, determined to save the batteries until the other Ghostbusters arrived.

Charlie's eyes rounded in shock. "Are you kidding? You think I'm on their side?"

"No, Mr. Venkman. I think you are on your side," Egon replied levelly. "But I believe you will do whatever it takes to survive, even if that means turning the entities loose on humanity, including your son."

"You think I'd let them hurt my boy?" Charlie exploded. "I'd never do that."

"Concern for Peter has never stopped you before."

"I've never hurt Peter, and I won't hurt him now," Charlie blustered. "But how can I help him or anybody if I let them kill me? I have to play along, don't you see?"

Egon saw that Peter's father had convinced himself of that. Arguing with him wouldn't make him trustworthy, so he put that aside from the time being and concentrated on information gathering. "Do they have any evident technology?" he asked.

"You mean like equipment?" Charlie scratched his head as he tried to think, causing his extravagant toupee to shift alarmingly. "I never saw any equipment. Well, not like what we'd consider equipment, anyway."

"Tell me what you did see."

"Well, let's see." The older man scrunched up his face in concentration. "They have a weird thing upstairs in the hall. It looks like a giant beehive. It's about a yard high and maybe half that big around. It sort of hums, but not really; you feel it more than you hear it, if you get my drift."

"Subliminal," Egon replied musingly. "Hmmm."

"Do you know what it is?" Charlie asked. "Peter always said you were the smartest guy he ever met, so if anybody can figure it out, you can."

Uncertain of whether that was a shameless attempt to play both ends against the middle, or whether Charlie was honestly reporting something Peter had said, Egon frowned. "I shall need more information. Do they do anything with the device? Perhaps use it to open the gateway between their world and our own? Store energy in it?"

"I never saw them touch it." Venkman tried to remember something he'd paid little attention to at the time. "But they did drag me off to the other side of the hall so I wouldn't get too close to it."

"Hmmm," Egon said again. "Perhaps a touch from one of us would contaminate it. Or possibly they simply didn't want you to get a closer look. Did it look like an energy source?"

"It looked like a big lump," Charlie admitted. "If they hadn't pulled me around it, I would have thought maybe it was just something that belonged on a farm. I haven't spent much time on a farm in years, not since I was a kid and, even then, all I wanted was to get away as fast as I could." He rubbed his neck. "I ache. How about you, my boy? You feeling any better? Did your energy come back?"

"Most of it." Egon was still tired--as if he'd been working hard for hours, but the utter, grinding exhaustion had gone. "I think those men are very gradually coming back," he added with a at the sleepers.

Charlie edged over to the nearest man and lifted his eyelid, prepared to jump back at the first sign of trouble. "Pupil's reactive," he reported. "It wasn't before. You think maybe whatever they do doesn't really kill people?" He crooked a hopeful eyebrow at Egon.

The physicist frowned. "I am not entirely certain these men can come back without treatment. On the other hand, they might be held here to provide additional nourishment to our captors. As their natural energy returns, they can be drained again." And so could the entire human race, if Lera's people came through in force.

Venkman scuttled back to sit beside Egon as if he felt safer there. "I don't like this. How are we gonna get out of here?"

"You don't believe you can sleep your way out?" Egon asked drily.

"It's not like I hadda choice, y'know," the older man defended himself. "I hafta do what they want or they'll drain me, and what good will I be then?"

Egon resisted the urge to ask, 'What good are you now?' That wouldn't help. "You do know they will drain you as soon as you stop being useful to them?" he asked instead.

Face pale, Charlie nodded. "I thought maybe I could fast-talk my way out of here, but I don't think I'm gonna get the chance. She conned me. Me! I've been pulling my rackets on people all my life, and here's this alien bimbo, even if she is gorgeous and treats me halfway nice, and she walks all over me."

"Alien?" Egon frowned, pondering that. Could it be possible the entities were actually aliens from another planet? No, they gave off ectoplasmic readings even if they were physical entities. They were not precisely ghosts, but he did not believe they were aliens.

"You think they're little green men?" Charlie demanded.

"Unlikely, but I won't rule out the possibility entirely. What does alarm me is that the guys will come after us with no idea what they are walking into. We must find a solution, or hope we can contact them by means of walkie-talkie before they actually reach the property."

Charlie frowned, alarm widening his eyes. "If they can't use the throwers, how are they gonna get us out of here?"

"They'll find a way." The physicist wasn't yet sure how they would do it, but there had to be a solution. Would a ghost trap suck one of them in? Would their energy-devouring qualities force the traps to open and free them? He didn't doubt the guys could come up with a solution. Perhaps Ray could design an energy-damping field that would drain the entities. Possibly the atomic destabilizer would alter their composition and prevent them from drawing energy from their victims.

One of the sleepers stirred restlessly, and Charlie jumped. Egon knew he could not count on the older man. He would have trusted Peter checked the pulse of the man who had stirred.

"He waking up?" Charlie asked.

"Not yet, but he seems to be recovering more quickly than the others. Perhaps he was less deeply drained, or possibly he is simply stronger." The man in question was probably around forty, dark haired and olive-complexioned. From his garb and the equipment on his belt, he might have been a meter reader, although Egon didn't understand why a meter reader would come to the abandoned farm. Egon studied his tools to determine if any of them might be used against the entities.

"Check their pockets," Egon instructed. "Ordinarily I would shrink from such an action, but it is possible one of them has something that might help us. Under the circumstances, I doubt anyone would object to such a search. And leave their wallets," he concluded sternly.

Charlie assumed an air of high dudgeon. "I'm not a common pickpocket." Pride? Or sheer defensiveness?

"It's hard to draw the line on what you actually will do," Egon replied. "A man who would con his own son would appear to have few limits--or ethics."

Charlie moved to obey Egon's instruction, but his mouth was drawn tight. "If I want to let Pete in on a great scam, it's none of your business," he said. "If my dad had offered me the chances I offer Peter, I'd have jumped at them."

"Peter isn't you. He's a man of honor. You would do well to remember that." Egon worked the tool belt off the meter reader. There were the routine tools--a screwdriver and a pliers. If there had been anything more esoteric, it was gone. Still, a tool was a tool, and a screwdriver could be used to dig or to attempt the lock. He tucked it into his belt and searched the man's pockets. Although he looked like the type who would ordinarily carry a jackknife, he had nothing but a wallet, loose change, and a squashed package of Twinkies in his pocket--Charlie snatched that up and started munching. A pair of sunglasses was tucked into his shirt pocket. Egon considered the lenses. Any options there?

With a crow of triumph, Charlie dug out a small hand gun from the second man's pocket. Although Egon had little interest in weaponry, he held out his hand for it, checked it to make certain it was loaded, then slid it into his hip pocket. It might be useful later. A particle thrower might not stop the entities; it was possible a bullet could.

"This one's got a gold coin just like mine."

"Perhaps that should make you consider the possibility you were not the first to encounter Lera--and to realize what your future with her will be." Egon gestured at the man Charlie was examining, a gray-haired fellow in a business suit. "She may have intended to use him as her intermediary. Perhaps he proved unacceptable. Since we do not know the entities' standards, your attempt to make yourself useful for them may not work."

Charlie sat back on his heels and looked Egon right in the eye. "You really hate me, don't you?"

"No, I don't hate you," Egon replied honestly. "I must admit I do not trust you, and I do not think highly of your behavior toward Peter. Self-interest is an understandable motivation, and perhaps we are all guilty of it upon occasion, but to use your own son...."

"A guy's son should want to help his dad," Charlie insisted. "I throw a lot of great opportunities at Peter. I always hoped he'd be just like me, you know, follow in my footsteps. We could go on the road together." His eyes unfocused in contemplation of this misty dream. For the first time it occurred to Egon that, in Charlie's twisted view, Peter might have let his father down. Egon did not respect the older man's values, but he realized Charlie might have his own agenda.

"Peter doesn't share your values," he told Charlie. "He's an honorable man. Don't you understand that in spite of his love for you, you've hurt him more than once?"

"A man should be proud of his father," Charlie persisted. Egon's words evidently disturbed him.

"A father has to deserve that," Spengler countered. "Do you think a man should respect a father who beat him, or hurt him?"

"Course not. Anybody who'd hurt his own kid is a jerk," Charlie said. "I never hurt Peter. Sure, a spanking every now and then. Back in those days, they didn't make a big production out of it. It wasn't a crime or anything, and you know Pete. He always pushed to the limit."

Egon, whose father would never have dreamed of laying a hand upon his son in discipline, realized Peter must have been a handful as a child and might have practically invited spanking. "I wasn't faulting that," Egon replied. "But there are other ways of hurting children. Breaking promises to them, for instance."

Charlie avoided Egon's eyes. "So I didn't get home as often as I wanted to. But I had to support Peter and Margaret. You don't like what I do for a living, but it's what I do. It's how I make money. Peter needed clothes, new shoes, a baseball glove, everything the other kids had, and Margaret wanted pretty things. When I had a good scam going, I had to run with it. I couldn't just dump it so I could go home for a holiday. Better to put food on the table and pay the bills like an honest man."

"Then you shouldn't have made promises you didn't intend to keep," Egon said sternly. "You do know, don't you, that Peter doesn't trust you?"

Pain flashed in the older man's eyes, then he spread his hands in a helpless gesture. "Yeah," he admitted. "I know it. But I'm what I am. I can't be somebody else, not even for my boy. Life's not easy, Egon. Love should be enough, but it never is."

That was the most perceptive thing Egon had ever heard Mr. Venkman say. Love was a starting point, but it took tending like an exotic plant. Knowing that didn't make it one iota easier, either.

"You're lucky," Charlie said surprisingly. "I remember when Peter first got to know you. He was telling me about you, and he was all excited, going on and on about how you'd never let him down, how you never turned on him, how you could laugh together. I have to admit, I got so sick of hearing about you I would have liked to punch you out. He stopped being that excited about me when he was ten years old. I always knew I couldn't be a hero for my boy, and that hurts, but it just isn't in me. I wanted him to be like me; he's got a quick way with words, and he's smart. He could have made a great scammer. The stings we could have pulled together!" He shook his head ruefully. "But then he met you, and all of a sudden, he had somebody he could look up to. There were times when I hated your guts."

It had never dawned on the physicist that Peter's father might have been jealous of his son's friendship with Egon, Ray, and Winston. "Perhaps we're even, then. There were times when I returned the feeling. That time when you promised money to Peter for that trip to Europe as a graduation present and then didn't come through...." Egon shook his head. "He didn't want to take the money from me; I had to call it a loan and charge him interest before he'd agree to it. But the trip wasn't as special to him as it should have been. And that was your fault."

"I was in jail. I couldn't help it." Charlie grimaced. "I didn't enjoy it, either. Look, Egon. I'm the way I am. I've tried to change, more than once, for Margaret, for Peter. But I couldn't. The con always lured me back, and I'd be on the road again. I tried for Peter. I played ball with him, took him camping, did all the things a dad is supposed to do. But I'd get the urge to be gone again, and needed the money, and I'd take off. It's just the way I am. Sometimes I think I'd do better to just vanish, get out of Pete's life."

"No," Egon said. "That would be the easy way. Leave him always wondering? Not even you could be that cruel."

Charlie sighed. "I know I can trust my boy," he said. "And I love him. But I'm never gonna be a saint. I don't know any way to fix things. And I always keep hoping he'll see my way one day."

"I didn't follow my father's profession, either," Egon replied. For the first time, he felt a shred of sympathy for Charlie. "Yes, I am a scientist, but my father wanted me to be conventional and I can't be. He was appalled when I became a Ghostbuster. That disturbed me for a long time. It was Peter who showed me I owed it to my father to be the best I could be at the career I had chosen. I couldn't let my father live my life. Winston, too, disappointed his father in his career choice but they worked that out. I think that might be the way of the world. Sons don't necessarily follow their fathers' professions. You don't deliberately take it out on Peter that he didn't become a con man, do you?"

Charlie shook his head. "No, I'd never do that. You may not think much of me, but I'm not that petty. I'm proud of him, Egon. How many guys have a boy who's helped save the world? I couldn't be prouder of him if he were the president. You think I'm a sleaze, and I probably am. But in spite of all my faults, I know I've got the best son a man could ever have."

"He's certainly the best friend a man could wish for," Egon said. "Until I met Peter, I had never even had a friend."

Charlie looked at him. "Isn't it funny you should have been so good at it?"

Stunned by Charlie's comment, Egon would have liked to pursue it, but he was distracted by the sound of the key turning in the lock. He and Charlie exchanged alarmed looks, bonded for the moment by circumstances and by their link with Peter.

Lera stood in the doorway, her flowing dress drifting around her as if there were a breeze in the passageway. "I'll have you this time," she said to Egon. "I have some questions to ask you about your equipment."

"I have nothing to say to you," Egon replied. Without turning, he unclipped the walkie talkie from his belt and set it on the floor beside the meter reader. Charlie reached out automatically, blocked from Lera's sight by Egon's body, and shifted the man's arm to cover it. Spengler stood and faced the female entity, and Charlie scrambled up uneasily beside him.

"I have much to ask," she said, as if Egon's objection didn't matter. She moved across the room as if she were floating and curled her fingers around his wrist. Mild weakness pulsed through him. "Come with me else I shall turn you into one of them." Her other hand gestured at the sleepers.

Egon saw no point in fighting. He needed more information, and he wouldn't get it trapped in the cellar. So he allowed her to lead him from the room.

"It's there," Winston said, gesturing at the farmhouse a quarter of a mile away down a side road. Peter had parked Janine's Volkswagen in the shelter of a thicket and the two of them had armed themselves, Winston with the destabilizer and Peter with a conventional proton pack. As they approached the farmhouse, Winston's military training kicked in, and he gestured to Peter to follow without stepping into full view of the house. Winston could always be counted on in this type of crisis. "I don't see Ecto, though. Stay low. We need to take some readings and find out what we're getting into."

They stopped along the fence in the shelter of a big bush. Venkman took out the P.K.E. meter and frowned as he activated it. He'd had Winston program it on the way to read biorhythms. Before they did anything, he needed to be sure Egon and his dad were still at the site--or still alive. He and Winston were close enough to get faint biorhythm readings from Egon or Charlie. Holding his breath, Peter aimed the detection device at the farm buildings, crossing his fingers as he did so.

For a moment, nothing happened, then, the screen activated and the tips of the antennae glowed. "Egon," Peter breathed with colossal relief as he recognized the familiar signature. "He's alive! But these readings aren't normal, like maybe he's hurt." A knot of anger and worry formed in his stomach. His dad had done it to him again, and this time Egon was paying the price.

"They could be weak with distance, or because something is blocking them," Winston said practically. "Don't borrow trouble. And don't underrate Egon. He can hang on until we get there. We might even waltz in just as he's mopping up."

Peter took a deep, steadying breath, then he adjusted the meter to check his father's readings. They came up slowly, too, and, like Egon's, they were not quite normal. What was more, he could detect other biorhythms, but they were extremely weak, faint flickers on the screen, almost undetectable. He wasn't sure what to think of that. Maybe they were like the guy his dad had found and called the paramedics for, the man in a coma. Or Winston could be right and an energy field blocked them. But if those faint readings were like the guy in the hospital, maybe Egon's and his dad's readings were starting to weaken to match them. Something in that house could be attacking them right now, draining them. Killing them. Peter's jaw clenched.

He recalibrated the meter for P.K.E. emissions to find out what the threat was and frowned, because those readings were far stronger that he had expected. "I wish Ray was here," Peter said unhappily. "I don't understand these readings." Ray had called to report he and Janine were less than half an hour behind them, but Peter wasn't sure they would have the luxury of waiting.

"Won't be long till he shows up." Winston edged over and peered at the screen. "That is weird, m'man," he confirmed. "Looks like there's only a couple of them there, and they're Class 5 all right, with a negative valence." He pointed at the screen to indicate the two specters that stood out vividly amid an overwhelming clutter. "But that overlay is really weird."

"Cross rip?" Peter hazarded, then he shook his head. "No, usually when there's a cross rip, we get tons of ghosts first to warn us about it. It doesn't read like a passage is open between dimensions right now. That energy's already here. Maybe they brought something with them to boost their power." He shivered. "Now there's a scary thought. A ghost-enhancer? I hope it doesn't catch on with the spirit world or we'd be in deep shit. We need Ray."

"Ray and Janine could be here in the next fifteen minutes," Winston reminded him. "You know how Ray drives. Makes Evel Kneivel look like a little old lady from Pasadena."

"Yeah, but something could go wrong five minutes from now." Venkman glowered at the meter. "I can't get what this power surge is."

"It's separate from those two ghosts, but it's over everything. And it's not residuals. Weird stuff."

"Bottom line, can we bust it?" Peter asked. "Egon and Pop aren't together. They're a little ways apart. Both of the ghosts are with Egon, I think." He usually left interpreting the more complex meter readings to Egon and Ray, but now he wished he had paid more attention to the physicist's endless lectures. True, they trained on all kinds of readings and varieties of spirits on a regular basis, but Peter didn't remember anything in their training sessions that reacted like this.

"Can you focus it a little?" Winston asked. "You know, break it down into its component parts?"

Peter knew the theory, but he'd never done fine-tuning to such a degree. "Can you? We've gotta know what we're up against. If we go in and get caught, too, we won't be any good to Egon or my dad."

Winston plucked the meter out of Peter's hands. "Let me see what I can do." He bent over the device, and Peter left him to it for the moment, popping up cautiously to study the seemingly-abandoned farmhouse and make sure the ghosts weren't sneaking up on them.

Nothing moved. No farm animals darted across the yard. Come to think of it, not even birds flew overhead. That was weird. A sense of discomfort slowly permeated Peter's being, growing stronger and stronger. He didn't want to go up there, but he had to. He couldn't leave Egon and his dad hanging. But the miasma that clung to the abandoned farm was so strong he could nearly taste it, and it was screaming, 'stay away'.

"Can you feel it, Winston?" he asked. "Something about that place? Something nasty?"

Zeddemore glanced up, his eyes wide. "I think it's a kind of energy. It's...subliminal or something. Maybe it's a field to keep people away or it could be just the result of that overlay. I don't like it either. But we gotta get Egon and your dad out of there."

"I know," Peter said fervently. "But why do I have the feeling that won't be easy?"

When Lera led Egon up the stairs, he realized he had been in a small basement of the farmhouse rather than in a separate structure.

Lera maintained her grip on his arm. "If you struggle, I shall drain you again," she threatened. Remembering the utter exhaustion he had felt when he had awakened, Egon remained docile. He had to learn more. If the throwers could not defeat her and her companion, he needed to discover an alternate method. So he let her guide him through the empty farmhouse, its rooms largely devoid of furniture, although a sofa and chair bulked under Holland covers in the living room. They climbed a flight of stairs where a painting of a ship at sea in a storm, executed by an excruciatingly bad amateur, hung on the landing, and reached the second floor corridor.

The beehive device Charlie had mentioned sat in the passage, deep brown in color, with marks circling it like deeply etched furrows, too regular to have been created in nature. It was an artifact from the other dimension, radiating energy Egon could feel all the way to his toes. The hum it made was almost below conscious level, but Egon's first impression was that it was a storage battery, maybe a receptacle for the energy the aliens had drained away. Either that or they had brought a supply with them to feed on, should they prove unable to capture sufficient prey. He would have given anything to take P.K.E. readings of the device. It made him extremely uncomfortable, and it must have affected Charlie in the same way or he wouldn't have mentioned it.

"What's that?" he asked.

Lera's face flashed alarm. "None of your concern, human," she said in a flat, unyielding voice and pulled him past it too quickly to allow him a better lock.

Egon debated whether to question her further or to simply observe on his own. He mustn't alienate her before he had gained enough information to defeat her and her companion. "What do you intend to do with me?" he asked instead.

"You fear me," she said in amusement. "You think I mean to use you as I did my sweet Charlie? And that disturbs you. Why?"

Egon hesitated over the answer. "Because Charlie has no ties in that way, and I do." It wasn't entirely the reason. He and Janine were slowly growing closer but they had made no formal commitments to each other yet. But it would serve.

"Ah. Loyalty. You love your human female, but you don't know what you would be missing."

"Don't I?" Egon challenged. "Evidently, you are hardly experienced. And in the process of furthering your training, I would be drained. I think not."

"That was not what I wished of you in any case," she said dismissively. "I want to learn about those devices you wore upon your back. They provided us considerable nourishment of a pure, refined type. In here." She pushed him into one of the bedrooms, where the second entity waited. There were no beds in the room, just several chairs and a few more ugly pictures on the wall, probably painted by the same amateur who had done the seascape. On the floor by the furthest wall, a painting lay amid its shattered frame, a wide pattern of debris circling from the spot. Odd scrape marks had dug gouges into the wooden floor, deep and jagged, as if something huge had landed there. Egon didn't have his meter but he suspected the cross rip had opened at that spot and the passage through had knocked the painting from the wall. The marks on the floor didn't match the footwear of the two entities, who wore soft leather moccasin-style slippers. Maybe the brown hive had done it when it landed.

Lera moved between Egon and the far wall as if she didn't want him to look at it. "You are a Ghostbuster," she said. "Even in my world, you and your companions are known and hated. To think that my sweet Charlie would bring you here...." Egon began to suspect she actually felt a fondness for the elder Venkman, unlikely as it seemed. Perhaps that could be turned to advantage. Did she realize he was Peter's father and thus connected to the Ghostbusters? Or was that simply a bit of chance? Egon suspected she had not realized Charlie was Peter's father, that she had known distantly of the Ghostbusters but not their names. When he had returned with Egon, complete with uniform and weapons, she might have had to revise her strategy.

"You should have been more careful," Egon returned. "Letting him find your victim in the barn was poor strategy. Had he not discovered him, he would never have come after me. But then, you were greedy, weren't you, greedy for the energy you can draw from humans?" It all made sense to him now. The draining of his energy, Lera's use of Charlie. The gold had been a lure, no more. Lera had to be the advance scout for an invasion, as he had begun to suspect. If only he had realized it, sooner, when he was still at liberty.

"And from your weapons," she reminded him.

The male entity appeared in the doorway. "His friends will come," he said. "Then we will have their weapons to devour." He sneered at Egon. "You think you can stop us? Not when you weapons provide sustenance for my kind. There is nothing you can use against us, because any such tool requires energy, and that is lifeblood to my kind."

Egon wondered about the effects of a double-barrel shotgun at close range. They were physical entities. Perhaps they could die as humans could. Egon found the idea distasteful, but it might come to that. They had to stop the invasion from Lera's dimension. Taking on both of them with the small gun seemed chancy, but he wouldn't rule out any choices.

"We are not limited to our particle throwers," he told the male. "It may be our first choice of weapons, but hardly our only one. Make no mistake. We will stop your invasion."

"Invasion?" He chuckled. "You think we are invading? An intriguing possibility. Actually we are scouting now, discovering what resources we can find in your world. We can pass among you unnoticed."

"Not with those ears," Egon retaliated. "Unless you want to pretend to be Trekkies, you'll never get away with it."

"You humans are unobservant. And of course one could wear a hat," the male replied. "Don't be smug and don't think to perplex us with human references. We may not know much of your world, but we are hardly stupid, and we have a great purpose. Just being in the same room with you tempts me to drain you for the glorious energy you possess. Lera played with her captive. Perhaps I should play with you."

Egon concealed his surge of panic at the very idea, and the entity must have sensed it. He laughed out loud. "He fears me," he told Lera.

"Don't underestimate him, Bok," she returned. "My sweet Charlie says he is a brave man and very intelligent. He wouldn't say more, but that was enough to alert me to the risk we take by keeping him intact. Yet perhaps he can serve to motivate Charlie to help us. Do not drain him yet. We are well fed now, and I may have use for him later. Charlie does fear us, which makes him even more useful to us than this one. What is more, Charlie's son is this one's best friend. He is the ideal hostage. Bonds of friendship exist in this world as in our own. We shall use this bond to our advantage."

"He's a Ghostbuster," Bok reminded her. "All we have heard of the Ghostbusters suggests they protect their own just as our pod sibs do. We must finish this one off and let him be found far from here, or they will pursue us and destroy us."

"They will pursue us, but we will devour the sustenance from their weapons," Lera reminded him. "They cannot hurt us. But you may be right. The others will come soon. We must be ready for them."

Egon frowned. "If you understand the concepts of loyalty and friendship," he said, "consider that to destroy beings who share those values with you demeans you."

He didn't expect it to work, and it didn't. Bok laughed scornfully. "You are not our kind," he said. "Even animals protect their offspring, yet I doubt you hesitate to eat animal flesh."

"Surely even you can see the difference between instinct and reasoned choice," Egon replied. Their utter disregard of human well-being indicated that they considered none but their own kind worthy of respect.

But Lera's eyes held a thoughtful expression as she considered Egon's words. "Tell us of your equipment. It is meant to trap and hold ghosts, I believe. Well, we are not ghosts, Egon. Ah, you look surprised that I know your name? My sweet Charlie told me that much. Don't be alarmed. He gave away few secrets and those accidentally. But do not depend on him to back you up. To do so is not his nature. We, too, have opportunists in our world, those who use others for their own petty needs."

"If you hold him in such contempt, why display such fondness for him?" Bok snapped. Jealousy, Egon suspected.

"Don't be a child, Bok. Liking strikes where it will."

"It is these games you play with him in your quest for the physical. Disgusting. Just like a female."

"And how very male is your cold condemnation of that which you do not understand," Lera replied haughtily. "If we mean to move among humans and feed from them, we must either come in a mighty wave and devour them all or move among them circumspectly, delicately feeding so that we are not discovered. Unlike you, I am no glutton. What I gain from my sweet Charlie sustains me very well, and pleasures me even when I do not feed. I do not hunger, and if I do, there is the receptacle--"

"You forget yourself!" Bok snapped furiously, and Lera's face drained of color.

The receptacle? The beehive device in the corridor? It seemed it really was a store of energy for them to feed upon, an alien cupboard. If so, it must be Egon's main target. Without a weapon, he was uncertain how to attack it; a physical attack would most likely be useless unless he could rip it apart and disperse the energy within. It must have been the device that had given the readings such a strange overlay even after the gate had closed.

"This mortal understands," Bok said, gesturing at Egon. "He must be destroyed."

"No, he must be used to control my sweet Charlie," Lera insisted. "You forget, I have spent more time in the human realm than you have. I have passed among the people of the great city, and none noticed me--in spite of my elegant ears, Egon," she added. "For your people are complacent and unobservant. I have taken energy here and there and none the wiser. I will continue to do so. Gradually more and more of my people will come here to feed." She smiled. "I have learned the concept of your world's vampires. They drink the blood of their victims. I simply drink their energy. I am a psi vampire to you."

"A stake through the heart will kill a vampire," Egon said levelly. "We will find a means to destroy your kind as well."

"And who but you even knows of our kind?" she challenged. "Think you that Charlie will support you? He is drawn to me and has no resistance to my 'charms'. If I offer him our currency, he will take the gold and never look back and he will lie to his son about your fate. You know this to be true."

Egon did. It was Mr. Venkman's nature, neatly summed up. Charlie might want to save Egon for Peter's sake, but he was hardly heroic. Even greedy men could rise above their natures and prove intrepid in a crisis, but Egon feared this was not the time. Charlie would allow himself to be manipulated by Lera if Egon's life was threatened, but he would take no great risks to save him.

"You know I am correct," she said, recognizing his silence for agreement. "Tell us now about your particle throwers. I have wasted enough time with you."

"I will tell you nothing," Egon replied.

"Then you will never leave here alive."

Egon shook his head. "I never expected you to free me," he said. "But I will not tell you anything that will endanger my friends and the world."

"Useless. A waste of time!" snapped Bok. "Let me feed from him now."

"You don't need to feed yet," Lera dismissed him. "Is that all you can think of? We have so much to learn. If we are cautious, we can feed on this world for whole generations. But you would rush in and kill indiscriminately. This world would unite against a common threat and attempt to destroy us. I, too, wish to feed from him; his energy is glorious. But I will not destroy a useful resource. You forget, Bok, that I am in charge of this scouting expedition. If you prove uncooperative, I will send you home, and your name will be disgraced in the pod. Obey me."

"As you order," Bok said sullenly. His eyes brimmed with resentment, but he conceded without hesitation.

Lera turned back to Egon. "You will not talk to me. Perhaps you will reconsider, when you have had time to think. When I bring you your comrades in the form of sleepers, you will regret your silence." She snapped her fingers. "Bok. Take him below. And if you feed from him, even one drop, I will know. Go now."

Bok took Egon's arm. He didn't precisely feed, but Egon could feel the suction against his skin from the touch. Bok's grip was a threat. Should he attempt to break free, the entity would drain him enough to stop his bolt for freedom. "This way, mortal," he said in disgust, and led the way to the door. Lera smiled the complacent smile of one who had gotten her own way.

Egon braced himself. The minute they were in the corridor he gathered his strength and lunged for the 'receptacle'. Sliding from Bok's grip, he got within six inches of the device before he felt the entity grip him and yank him back. Energy slid from his body like water and his knees weakened. For a moment, spots danced before his eyes, then Bok lightened the grip. "I will not drain you, I have been commanded," he said coldly. "This is a warning. If you go near the receptacle again I will drain you to death. Do you understand?"

"I hear your words," Egon replied, unwilling to show fear or weakness before Bok. He refused to admit agreement, so hearing was all he would claim.

"Then listen to them. Know that the receptacle is full of power and you cannot stand against it." He sent a flicker of his power through Egon by tightening his grip. The physicist sagged and put out his other hand to brace himself against the wall.

"Stop it, Bok," Lera called from inside the room.

The energy drain eased. "Come on." Bok dragged Egon to the stairs with no allowance for his faltering steps. "She's in charge--for now. But it might not be that way always, and then I will drain you in one gulp."

He was shoved into the room with Charlie, who sat jingling several golden coins in his hand. He must have taken them from the sleepers. Egon frowned as the door clashed shut behind him. "Any word from the guys?" he asked.

Charlie's eyes widened. "I forgot." Tucking the money in his pocket, he passed Egon the walkie talkie.

"So what do you think?" Winston asked. "I can't see anything moving up there."

Peter stared at the farmhouse, a dark, brooding glitter in his eyes. "God, Winston, I don't know."

The two of them had crept closer to the abandoned farm, moving along a dry ditch for cover. This close to the house it was possible to detect that Egon was on the upper floor and Charlie Venkman was on a lower level, possibly the basement. The fainter readings were with Charlie, and they hadn't moved at all. Winston thought their readings might now be fractionally stronger, but the difference was so slight he couldn't be sure.

Winston frowned. In his present frame of mind, Peter was in no fit state to take part in a bust. He'd babbled all the way here about the way his father used him and endangered the guys.

Winston glanced at the P.K.E. meter again then stiffened. "Pete! Egon's readings just wavered."

"Let me see." Peter crept over to join him, peering at the screen. Egon's biorhythm flickered then gradually steadied at a slightly lower level than before. "They're trashing him," Peter hissed, his face white. "Damn it, we've gotta get in there."

"Give Ray a few more minutes," Winston argued. "We need to be at full strength, I've got the atomic destabilizer, Egon's alive. Whatever just happened didn't kill him. And it's still possible it's a field around the house that we can't read through properly and not an attack on him."

"No. If it were, Dad's readings would have changed, too, and those other guys would be so faint we couldn't read them at all. Something happened to Egon while we sat here doing nothing. I'm gonna go in there."

"Wait!" Winston caught his arm. "Look!" He pointed down the road.

Peter followed his gesture, and the two men saw a flicker of movement at the far end of the ditch.

"It's Ray and Janine," Winston exulted. "Right on time."

Peter reeled in his impatience but it still fought him. "We've gotta get in there," he persisted.

"Listen to me." Winston gripped his wrists. "This is not your fault. Egon went into this with his eyes wide open. If you don't pull yourself together and start treating this the way you do any dangerous bust, I'm gonna bench you. You'll do Egon more harm than good if you head in there in the state you're in."

"You've got no right--" Peter began, then he caught himself and shook off his mood. "Sorry. It's just--Dad makes me crazy. I hate it when he takes wild risks with you guys' lives. It's like, if anything happens to Egon it will be my fault."

"The heck it will," Winston snorted. He could understand very well where Peter was coming from, but they needed him at his peak on the bust. "Ever hear of something called 'free will'? We bail your dad out for your sake, but nobody makes us do it. We do it because you're our friend and because we know how you'd feel if anything happened to him." He watched Ray and Janine approach and gestured to them to stay low. "I know it'd tear you up if something happened to Egon because he went with your dad, but I also know Egon would bust your butt for acting like this."

Peter produced a rather shamefaced grin. "Yeah, I know he would."

There was no time to discuss further. Ray flopped down beside them. "What's going on? Have you seen Egon?"

Peter said, shoving the meter into Ray's hands, "He's in there, and something's wrong with him. What can you make of these readings? I've never seen anything like them."

Ray frowned at the meter while Janine edged up and clutched at Peter's arm. "What's wrong with Egon?" she demanded.

"We don't know, little sister," Winston told her quickly before Peter could open his mouth. "His readings are down, as if something's drained his energy, but he's still moving. We know he's alive, and we'll get him out of there."

"We'd better," Janine said tightly. "I'm going to brain that boy for taking crazy risks like this."

Peter flinched, and she noticed and tightened her grip on him. "And I'm not gonna brain you unless you start saying this is all your fault," she said. "Going on a nice little guilt trip won't do Egon any good. I mean it, Dr. V." She glared at him defiantly.

At her words, he relaxed slightly. "Ray?" he prompted.

The occultist jumped slightly. "Oh, gosh, these are weird readings," he breathed. "There's a lot of extra energy in there."

"What do you mean, extra energy?" Winston wanted to know.

"I don't know. But it's like they have a way to store it--like a giant psi battery or something. Maybe they need it to survive--or maybe it's a weapon."

"That's all we need," muttered Janine.

A crackling sound announced an incoming message on Peter's belt communicator. He snatched it and activated it. "Egon?" he demanded hopefully. "Is that you?"

"Peter? Thank god," Egon responded. His voice sounded normal, or almost so, as if he were unhurt, just very tired. "Are you all here?"

"Yes, and Janine, too. Winston's got the destabilizer. Are you okay, big guy? Your biorhythms are weird. Is my dad there?"

"We're both here," Egon replied. "And we're both unhurt. The entities who hold us captive have crossed over from another dimension. They thrive on energy. They can use the energy in our particle throwers. Both our packs have been completely drained, although that much energy almost pushed them beyond satiation. Whether an overload is possible I have no way of telling without taking readings. They can also draw energy directly from a human body. That's what you saw on my readings. When we were captured I was drained to unconsciousness. However, I have bounced back completely."

"They zapped him a little just a few minutes ago, Peter," Charlie Venkman's gravelly voice cut in. "He's on his feet, and it doesn't affect his brain, but we need you and your friends to come and break us out."

"I ought to leave you there, Pop," Peter said angrily. "You never think, do you? You just plan your little scams and don't give a damn who it hurts. But we're not leaving Egon in there, so we'll have to rescue you, too."

"Son, I never meant...," Charlie began worriedly, as if he could understand the fury in Peter's voice. "I won't let them hurt Egon, I promise."

"Like you could stop them," Peter scoffed.

"Let me talk to Egon, Mr. Venkman," Ray cut in. "They may be able to monitor this communication and we need to understand what's going on."

"Here he is, Ray, my boy."

"I'm here, Ray," came Egon's filtered voice. "There's a device on the second floor in the hallway. It vaguely resembles a beehive, and it's an energy receptacle. It is completely full of energy, perhaps a means of sustenance for the entities until they establish themselves. They plan to become energy vampires, feeding off human life force, and if they learn to pass unnoticed among us, they mean to bring more of their kind over. The receptacle must be destroyed, and the cross rip sealed permanently."

"But if it's full of energy, won't it bounce back on us?" Winston asked, crowding in.

"I was unable to take readings," Egon replied. "They took my meter. So I can only theorize."

"Are you sure you're okay, Egon?" Janine called, edging closer, her face tight with worry.

"They don't mean to kill me," Egon informed her. "They mean to use Peter's father to help procure victims and plan to keep me as a hostage for his, er, good behavior."

"Then you listen up, Pop," Peter said tensely. "You better not let them harm so much as one hair on Egon's head or you'll be sorry."

"He doesn't control them, Peter," Egon remarked. "You can't expect him to protect me. I came here of my own volition. Being captured, I learned the exact nature of the threat humanity faces. This bust is vital. Raymond, you must take detailed readings of the energy receptacle. And you must consider the fact that our throwers are not inimical to them."

"Gee, yeah," Ray said, his face wrinkled with thought. "I wonder if we converted the throwers to negative energy...."

"Reverse the polarity?" Egon echoed. "I think it might work, but there are no guarantees. However, the current settings will not, so go for it. I couldn't take readings at close range, but you can study the readings you're getting before you come in."

"What about the destabilizer, Egon?" Winston asked.

"It serves a different function," Egon said thoughtfully. "However, it is still energy. It may convert them to an ectoplasmic state, but I theorize the transformation would be momentary. You would need to be very quick. I do have two traps, but a trap on its own won't pull in a Class 5, let alone a physical entity of that rating."

"Okay, we'll convert the throwers, and I'll reverse the polarity on the destabilizer, too." Ray unfastened his own pack and took out the tools.

"There are three comatose men trapped with us," Egon added. "They've been severely drained like the man Mr. Venkman discovered. I have noticed a minuscule improvement in their condition, but I theorize they cannot come back completely without medical treatment."

"We checked on that guy in the hospital on the way here," Winston put in. "He isn't conscious yet, but he is recovering. What they did to him wasn't fatal."

"The entities are capable of draining a human to the death," Egon informed them. Winston could hear the worry in his voice, but he also heard a fierce determination to stop them. "Ray, I suggest you consider the possibility of an energy backlash or overload."

"Hey, yeah," cried Ray excitedly. "Can the entities zap a person from a distance or do they have to touch them?"

"They have to touch you," Egon replied. "You have an idea?"

"I think I do. I--"

Egon cut in sharply. "Someone's coming. I'll leave the transmitter activated and out of sight. You can listen and maybe it will help."

"Be careful, Egon," Janine urged, then fell silent as Winston gestured at them for quiet.

Egon set the walkie talkie on one of the canning shelves behind a jar of tomatoes and jumped to the other side of the room before the door opened. Lera and Bok came in together, their faces angry.

"You have a communication device," Bok blurted angrily. "We do not understand your equipment. The petty tools you wore on your belt held so little energy we thought them unimportant. You will give them over to us now."

Egon promptly detached his flashlight and held it out. Charlie edged up behind him, hiding behind the tall physicist.

"You, too," Bok persisted.

Charlie heaved a sigh, then he pulled a cell phone from his pocket. "It's a telephone," he said, reaching around Egon to offer it up. "We use it to communicate over long distances. I called my son in New York. He's going to come for us, see if he won't." Egon wondered why they had left him his phone when they had taken his own. Perhaps he had two, or possibly he had not been searched. If so, it seemed a serious mistake on Lera's part. A pity Charlie had not used the phone while he had the chance.

"Charlie!" Lera cried, stricken, as if he had betrayed her.

"It's not for me, Babe," Charlie told her quickly. He patted Egon's shoulder. "But Egon is my son's friend. I couldn't let you hurt him. I don't need a hostage to stay with you. I want to. You mean too much for me to ever leave you."

Could Lera hear the fear in his voice or realize he was making it up as he went along? Charlie Venkman had always been a fast talker. Maybe he had a use here after all. If the phone satisfied them, if they didn't find the walkie talkie....

Lera's expression softened. "Ah, my sweet Charlie," she cooed, reaching out a hand toward him. Egon had to give him credit for not flinching. He touched her hand, took courage from the fact that she had not attempted to drain him, and squeezed it, still hiding behind Egon. "You have taught me so much of the ways of your kind," she said. "And of the wonderful pleasure. I would never hurt you. But do not keep secrets from me again."

Egon wondered what Peter would make of that. Learning Charlie had collaborated with the entities would make Peter crazy--and convince him his father had let him down once more.

"It's hard not to when you lock me up," Charlie made his pitch. "Let me come up and be with you, not locked up down here in the basement. I'm on your side, remember. We've been together. When that happens among humans, it makes a bond. You have to believe that."

"Don't believe a word of it," Bok scoffed. "He is inherently dishonest. He is saying what he believes you wish him to. He would turn on you in an instant, had he the stomach for it."

"I'm really hurt," Charlie told the male entity. "You think I would hurt my lovely Lera?"

"Yes," said Bok frankly. "Lera, there is still energy here. It is so faint as to be subliminal, but it is here. He betrays you even as we speak."

"He will not do so," she said with an edge of hardness in her voice. "Because he knows I have a hostage, his son's best friend. Should we drain Egon to the death, he will no longer have a home in this world, and he knows it."

"Then let us make certain of his loyalty," Bok spat. "Let us sever his ties with this world completely. Once this Egon is dead, he will have no more excuses. He will serve us or die."

Egon could imagine the guys' reaction to that threat. He could picture them working frantically to reconfigure the throwers. Would they get here in time? And if they did, would the polarized throwers work? Could Ray destroy the receptacle? Egon watched Bok lift a hand and reach toward him. He braced himself for the impact, wishing he could warn the guys of the threat. Remembering the gun in his pocket he knew he couldn't draw it in time to stop Bok. But he slid his hand in that direction just in case.

"Let us not be hasty," Lera said.

"You're soft on them, Lera," Bok spat. "Let us prove your Charlie's loyalty once and for all. If he will still serve you without a hostage, perhaps I will let him live. This one is too clever." He played with the cell phone a moment, then shook his head. "They lie to us. This device has no energy."

"The battery just died," Egon countered hastily. "That's why we stopped talking."

"He's lying," Bok snapped in disgust. "They have another. Don't you see, Lera. He is no use to us at all. He only corrupts any hope you have of your stupid Charlie helping you." He lifted his hand and reached out for the physicist.

Egon braced himself, seeing in the entity's eyes that this was the moment. He would not pull back, in spite of Lera's sharply voice, "Bok! No!"

Everything happened so quickly after that; Egon could barely keep the sequence straight. Bok reached for him, and as he did, Charlie Venkman slid around in front of Egon, flinging his body between his son's friend and the death in Bok's hand. Egon could tell he was trembling in utter panic, but his shoulders were squared in fierce determination. "Oh, no, you don't!" he cried. "You aren't gonna kill him."

Lera's face drained of color as Bok's hand brushed Charlie's chest. Egon grabbed the older man's arm to yank him backward as he fumbled with his other hand to pull the Derringer from his pocket. "No," she wailed, stricken. "Not my sweet Charlie!" and dived between Bok and his intended victim. His hand came to rest directly on her ribcage.

The killing touch lasted only a second, but Lera shrieked and went limp, collapsing to the dirty floor, her body fading into transparency as she fell. Bok yanked his hand back, his eyes wild. "Lera! Lera! I didn't mean it. Oh, Lera, no!"

Egon gave Charlie a savage yank to pull him out of range of the frantic Bok. Charlie stumbled, moaning Lera's name, and dropped to his knees at her side. "Lera, wake up. Talk to me...."

"She's dead! You made me kill her," Bok exploded. He reached out for Charlie with his lethal hand.

"Get back!" Egon threatened. "Or I'll shoot you!"

"Your energy weapons are useless against me," Bok spat. "Don't be a fool. When I have finished with the old idiot, I will take your essence."

"This is not an energy weapon." Even now, he hated the thought of pulling the trigger. It was stupid; Bok was a Class 5 who intended to kill him. But using a gun was somehow different from using a thrower and it felt wrong to him.

Bok's arm swept out to dislodge it, his fingers brushing Egon's arm. Lethargy swept through him and he nearly dropped the weapon.

"You see, it's useless," spat the entity.

The fingers reached for him again and Egon pulled the trigger. He was not an expert marksman with handguns, but the bullet caught Bok in the arm and he jerked back, horrified. The wound glowed golden and gushed forth not blood but energy in a sparkling stream.

Bok clapped his fingers over the injury, staring at Egon in shocked disbelief. "You'll pay," he cried and swung his good hand at Egon in an attempt to backhand him. Egon ducked and fired again. This time his shot grazed Bok's side, and more golden energy spilled out.

Shrieking furiously, Bok fled the room, bleeding gold. "The receptacle will heal me and then you will die!" he spat as he slammed the door behind him and locked it in place.

Weakened by the first blow, Egon collapsed to his knees. He was in no danger of blacking out, but he didn't have the energy to stand. He looked over at Charlie who clutched a transparent hand in both of his own, pressing it to his heart, gazing down at the stricken woman in horror. Egon took a deep, shuddering breath. There was a leaden silence in the room and he realized the guys must be worrying. Crawling over to the shelves, he retrieved the walki-talki. "I'm okay, guys," Egon he said into the transmitter. "I got brushed with an energy drain and I'm locked in again. Your father is unhurt."

"What happened?" Janine cried. "It sounded awful."

"I had to shoot Bok," Egon replied. "He didn't bleed. He gushed energy. He went for the receptacle. He said it would heal him. You've got to stop him."

"We will," Ray promised. "We're here, Egon. We're at the house. You said he went upstairs?"

"He went for the receptacle. It's in the second floor hallway. You can't let him open the cross rip and retreat to his own dimension."

"We won't," Peter promised. "You hang in there, Spengs. You're gonna be okay, and that's a promise from Dr. Venkman."

The physicist sat sucking in his breath, his chin on his chest. Lifting his head was an effort, but he turned to study Charlie through the mist of golden energy that had poured from Bok's wounds. Dazzled by the sight, Egon watched in open-mouthed disbelief as it trailed wispily across the room and sank into the bodies of the sleepers. Mist hovered around him, too, as if it was being drawn home. Stunned he spread out his arms and leaned into it. The surge of energy that pulsed through him didn't entirely restore him, but it boosted his strength. He thought he could walk across the room to the door if he had to now.

A quick glance at the sleepers revealed that they were stirring faintly. They would live, he realized--if the guys could stop Bok.

He edged over beside Charlie. "Is she dead?" he asked, not unkindly.

The older man lifted ravaged eyes. "She's gone," he said. "I was more of an old fool than I thought. I knew what she was but I still cared about her." He tried to gather her into his arms, but as they watched, she faded further, becoming fully insubstantial, and his hands passed right through her. "Oh, God," he moaned.

"You were not the only one," Egon consoled him. "She gave her life for you. In spite of her purpose, she threw it away for your sake. I don't think she understood her feelings, but she did love you."

"That's not enough," Charlie said disconsolately, rocking back and forth in his misery.

"No. But you also saved my life. And that will mean something to Peter."

Charlie looked up at him, his eyes hollow and sad. "After I got you into this in the first place? No wonder Peter hates me. I'm pond scum."

If he hadn't been sure that self-pitying attitude would be of short duration, Egon would have felt worse for him. Charlie was resilient; he would bounce back. Egon hoped he wouldn't do so before Peter arrived, though. The last thing he wanted was to see Peter and his father estranged. Yes, Charlie had lured Egon here out of avarice. But that there was in Charlie a spark of humanity that could emerge in a crisis was nice to know.

Egon put a comforting hand on the older man's shoulder and settled down with him to wait and listen to the battle about to take place upstairs.

"He tried to kill Egon. We've gotta stop him," Ray blurted as they raced up the stairs to the upper level of the farmhouse.

"Yeah, and I hope reversing the polarity of the neutron flow really works," Winston muttered. "Because if this guy could drain two full packs, then he's gonna be tough to take on."

Peter gestured for silence. "Let's not warn him we're coming," he urged as he led the way into the upper corridor.

They saw Bok immediately. He was tall, slender, elegant, with pointed ears like an elf. Bending over a giant lumpy object shaped like a beehive, he sank both of his arms into it as if it were insubstantial. Golden energy leaked out of the entity's arm and side where Egon had wounded him. Even brighter energy swirled up around his hands and wrists, permeating his body, replenishing him.

"Watch out," Ray breathed in an undertone. "He's drawing power out of it. Those wounds are healing even as we watch."

"What is that thing?" Winston muttered.

Ray glanced at the device. "I think it's like Egon said, an energy store, but I think it's also the key to opening the cross rip. We have to destroy it."

"No!" Bok spun away and placed himself between the device and the Ghostbusters. As he withdrew from the energy source, his wounds continued to bleed power slowly. "I will not allow it. Your weapons cannot harm me."

"Oh yeah?" Peter fired, his thrower's beam striking the entity in the middle of the chest.

Bok flinched, his eyes focusing on Peter's face. "You!" he cried in recognition. "You are her Charlie's son. She would have spared you, but I will not. What have you done? This is an unpalatable energy. I will not have it." He stuck his fist into the receptacle and golden vitality surrounded him, blocking off the force of the reversed thrower.

"He can block it," Winston gasped in dismay.

"Go, Winston," Peter cried, gesturing for the black man to fire the destabilizer. Winston's stream cut right through the field. Bok jerked in astonishment, then he shifted in the stream, growing slightly transparent but drawing more energy from the receptacle. Ray threw out a trap and stomped on the trigger, but when the glowing cone of light shot up from the trap, the golden field blocked it and the doors slammed shut over nothing. Bok laughed.

"You see," he exulted. "I am safe from you."

"You won't be safe from a double barrel shotgun," Peter spat. "We just have to get more projectile weapons and come back. Think we're gonna let you take over our world? No way."

"You think there are just the two of us? There are millions waiting to come through," Bok spat. "We were just the advance guard. Lera was cautious, but I am not. Your friends downstairs made me kill her and I will never forgive your kind for that. All of humanity will pay the price."

"A lot of hot air," Peter spat. "Because you've done your last destroying."

"Have I?" He lunged at Peter, and swiped a hand across Venkman's arm. With a gasp, the psychologist collapsed to his knees, the thrower dropping from nerveless fingers.

"Peter!" Ray's alarmed cry rang out. "Get him, guys!"

"No," Peter yelled, an idea clicking. "Do like we did at the Macabre house, with that paranatural being. Overload that beehive thingy. Destroy it, and that'll take care of Bok."

"You can't!" shrieked the entity, lurching back to stand before the receptacle, but three streams lashed out, some of them brushing him in the process. Staggering, he tried to spread himself thin to protect the energy source. Peter sat back on his heels, and fired too, his stream cutting in at a lower angle. It took all his strength to hold the thrower steady as it bucked in his weakened clasp, but he held on, grimly determined to bring down this particular entity. Already he felt his energy returning.

"No!" screeched Bok. "I will destroy you. My people will destroy you! Stop!"

"If you hafta ask, then we're doing it right," Janine spat. "Don't expect mercy from us, buster. You tried to kill Egon. I don't care if we send your atoms in all directions at the speed of light."

"You think he cares for you, pitiful female," Bok scoffed. "As Lera toyed with her Charlie, I enjoyed your Egon."

"That's a lie," Janine spat at him. "Egon would never...."

"Ah, but he did, and enjoyed it muchly. He wants no part of you now."

"Boy, did you tell the wrong story," Peter snorted. "Give me a break. Don't you realize Egon's straight?"

"Straight?" Bok echoed. "What does that mean?"

"If you don't know, then we know you're feeding us a story," Winston said with a laugh. "You're desperate. You're trying to trick us but we know Egon."

"And if you forced yourself on him, I'm going to take great pleasure in destroying you slowly and painfully," Janine cried.

"He will tell you I never did," Bok returned uneasily, glancing over his shoulder at the receptacle. "Let us talk. Let us make a deal."

"You've been around my pop," Peter said, recognizing the source of that particular phrasing. "But we don't make deals with killers or with anybody who wants to destroy humanity. You're going down, and that's the bottom line. Crank up the power. This dude's history!"

"No!" screeched Bok. "No, no, NO!" He plunged both arms into the receptacle up to his elbows, then gave a panicked wail. "You can't," he moaned. "You can't do this. Please. I beg of you. I'll do anything you say. Spare me. Spare the receptacle. I'll spare humanity."

"Yeah, I'll bet," Winston replied. "How are we coming, Ray?"

Thrower tightly gripped in one hand, Ray raised the meter with the other. "We're doing it. Pour on the power. It's about to overload."

"Uh, Ray?" Peter asked uneasily. "This isn't going to trigger an explosion like the time we zapped Gozer back to his own dimension, is it?"

"Maybe," Ray said, frowning at the readings. "But we survived that. At least there's no marshmallow man around this time to bury us in marshmallow cream."

"Good. I think." Peter couldn't quite make it to his feet yet, but he felt better. With the glow of power circling around, maybe some of his own energy had found its way home. Gnawing on his bottom lip as he held the thrower steady, he poured out energy upon the receptacle.

Suddenly it shimmered before his eyes. He blinked, afraid his induced exhaustion was making him see things, but no, it was flickering, pulsing, quivering. "Ray?" he called. "What's happening?"

"It's overloading," cried Ray. "There's enough power floating around to seal the gate permanently when it blows. When I give the warning, everybody power down--and duck."

"What about Bok?" Janine demanded. "We can't let him get away."

"He'll be going in all directions at once, anyway," Ray said without a shred of sympathy. Nobody hurt his friends and got away with it. "Come on, guys, just a little longer."

Bok pulled his hands free of the receptacle and started toward them. But he hadn't reached them when Ray cried, "Now!"

"I'll kill you," Bok wailed as Peter shut down his thrower and flung his hands over his head.

The world exploded.

"Guys? Guys, come on, answer me? Guys?" Frantically, Egon repeated his call, clutching the walkie talkie in a desperate hand. A massive explosion had rocked the entire building, then silence. Trapped in the sub-basement, he and Charlie were unhurt, but Egon didn't know if his friends had survived or not.

"Theirs could be broken," Charlie offered hesitantly. He was pale and shaken, his grief muted by his worry for his son. "We've gotta get out of here."

"The throwers are drained. I can't blast my way out," Egon reminded him.

"No, but you could shoot out the lock with that little gun."

"Of course! Stand back." He moved closer to the door, aimed at the lock and fired. It clicked uselessly on an empty chamber.

"Two shots," Charlie put in. "Little guns like that only fire two shots. Just a minute." He scuttled over to the man he'd taken the gun from and searched his pocket. When he returned he had a small box, presumably containing more rounds. He took the gun from Egon and reloaded it, not as if he were used to doing such things, but as if he had a far better idea than Egon did how to do so.

Standing near to the door, he aimed and fired at the lock. The bullet smashed into the target dead center.

"Great shooting, my boy, if I do say so myself." Venkman grabbed the doorknob and turned it, and the door gave reluctantly. "Come on," the older man urged, starting to tuck the gun into his pocket.

"Reload. We may need it against Bok," Egon reminded him, and Charlie frowned apprehensively and did so. Giving the gun back to the physicist, he paused in the doorway, casting an agonized look over his shoulder. Lera's form had almost entirely faded now. He must know there would be nothing more to see when he returned. Blinking suspicious brightness from his eyes, the older man stiffened his spine. "Peter needs us."

They dashed up the stairs as fast as they could manage for two men who were drained, one from the entity and one from guilt and grief. The stairway to the second floor looked sturdy enough, and Egon went first, pushing himself up with grim determination, afraid of what he would find when he reached the top. If his friends had died in the explosion.... He tightened his grip on the gun

"Egon!" Ray flung himself at the blond man as he reached the shattered corridor where walls tilted crookedly, doors hung lopsided on their hinges and a window at the far end of the hall had spit glass out into the yard. The occultist had a cut at the hairline above his left eye; it had bled copiously in the way of scalp wounds, smearing the left side of his face, but he'd wiped at it with the kerchief that was now tied over the cut. Egon barely had time to tuck the gun into his pocket before Ray grabbed him and hugged him in sheer relief.

"Raymond, are you all right? The others?"

"We're all here, a little the worse for wear," Peter said. He crowded in next to Ray and reached out to touch Egon's arm as if to convince himself of the physicist's reality. Battered and bruised, he had a swelling on his forehead that was scraped and raw. He was moving the way Egon was, as if he'd been zapped by Bok, but the arms that closed around Egon in fervent relief were tight enough to obstruct breathing. Spengler crushed Peter to him for a moment of reassurance.

Winston was next, one arm held at an awkward angle against his side. "Dislocated my shoulder, man." His voice was full of pain. "I landed wrong. So forgive me if I don't give you a proper welcome back. I'd rather not move at all."

"Don't try. We'll get you to the hospital right away," Egon reassured him, clasping Winston's good hand and squeezing it.

Then Janine slid into Egon's arms. He bent his head and kissed her gently and reassuringly.

Peter didn't even notice the kiss. He had seen his father.

"This is all your fault," he accused hotly, planting himself in his father's face. "Egon nearly got killed, Winston's hurt, Ray's bleeding, and Janine could have been injured if Winston hadn't shielded her from the blast. We could all be dead, thanks to you!"

"Peter, he saved my life," Egon intervened, detaching Janine and moving over to join father and son.

"Sure, after endangering it in the first place. Leprechauns!" Peter spat. "Pots of gold! Give me a break! I've warned you not to take crazy risks with my friends. Sneaking around when I'm not even there, getting Egon in trouble. I'm not going to put up with it any longer!"

Charlie didn't even try to defend himself. Shoulders slumped, drying tearstains on his cheeks, he avoided his son's eyes. "You're right, I'm slime. Do what you have to, son. I won't blame you."

Peter darted a worried glance in Egon's direction. He hadn't expected that reaction from the nimble-tongued con man and it threw him off his stride.

"Lera died saving him from Bok, Peter," Egon said. "He loved her. And I think you should know," he continued, "that while your father's motives in recruiting me were not pure, this threat was genuine, and one essential that we face and destroy. I had to come here with him. I know you don't want him to risk our lives, but this was a valid job."

"I know, Egon, but he didn't care about that. He was thinking how he could use us," Peter persisted.

"Son, it's true," Charlie admitted. "I was thinking of major bucks. Gold. They had coins. They gave me one. They used me. But Lera--son, she was something else, so beautiful, so warm. She didn't want to destroy humanity, only to live among us."

"Draining us," Peter put in. "I figured out that part already. And you were gonna help her do it!"

Charlie nodded. "Yes, but...." He fell silent. "She died, Peter. She died to save me. She knew what I was, and she loved me anyway. And now she's gone."

Peter hesitated. He was still furious with his father. Egon could recognize the signs. But not even he could attack his father when he looked so miserable. "Yeah, okay, but that doesn't mean I forgive you." He walked up to Mr. Venkman and put his hands on his shoulders. "I'm sorry about her, Pop," he said more quietly.

Charlie wrapped his arms around Peter's neck and clung to him like a child. Over his shoulder, Peter caught Egon's eye, his expression teetering between anger, pity, and sheer exasperation. But his arms came around the older man and he patted his back soothingly. Egon beamed. Charlie Venkman was no hero, and his motives were far from pure, but he was in pain, and Peter couldn't turn away from him at such a time.

Spengler said softly, for Peter's ears alone, "I am very proud of you."

Peter's smile blazed out. Egon was sure he had a great many unresolved issues with which to challenge his father, but they could wait.

"Gosh, Mr. Venkman, I'm sorry about Lera," Ray said gently. "But right now we have to get Winston to the hospital, and those guys downstairs, too. We called for 911 as soon as we revived from the explosion."

"Revived?" Egon stared at his friends in alarm. "You were all unconscious? I hope you told the 911 operator to send several ambulances."

"Yes, and you're going in, too, Egon." Janine tightened her grip on his hand. "You look like you can barely put one foot in front of the other. When we get home, I'm going to whip out the blender and mix up a big batch of your mom's cure-all for all you guys. That will do the trick if anything can." Ray nodded in earnest agreement even if he couldn't help grimacing at the thought of how nasty the cure-all tasted.

Still comforting his father, Peter glanced up and caught Egon's eye in a look of mingled amusement and commiseration. "We were only out for a few seconds, Egon," he said. "Don't worry. We're fine. We're all fine here now, thank you. How are you?"

"I bag the couch," Winston said as the four Ghostbusters, Janine, and Charlie Venkman started up the stairs to the second floor of Ghostbuster Central. It was nearly nine PM--the end of a very long day. Winston's shoulder had been put back, and he claimed to be 'sore as blazes'. Ray's cut had required four stitches, but he was fine. The three men who had been rescued from the cellar were being treated for dehydration and fed intravenously, but two of them had regained consciousness before the Ghostbusters had left the hospital, and the other was on the verge of it when they departed. Their confused stories had sent the police out to the abandoned farmhouse and several officers to the hospital to question the Ghostbusters. Egon, released with the instruction to drink plenty of fluids and to have an early night, appointed himself spokesman and explained to them what had happened, giving them the small gun to return to its owner. The local police were close enough to New York to be familiar with the Ghostbusters and had accepted the story. Peter muttered about the absence of a fee but Winston had shrugged. "Any bust you can walk away from...."

"Here, son." Charlie had dug in his pocket and produced a gold coin. "It isn't much but it's all I got. Lera gave it to me...."

Peter hesitated, then he shrugged. "Nah, you keep it, Pop."

"Well, if you're sure, son...." Quickly pocketing the coin, the older man had turned his attention to the passing scene and fallen silent for the remainder of the drive to the city. With Winston stretched out in the back of Ecto-1, which had been discovered safe and sound in the barn, Ray driving Aunt Lois' car, and Egon riding with Janine, Peter had no distractions. The sight of his father so crushed and silent gave him plenty to think about on the trip.

Once Winston was ensconced on the couch, Janine vanished into the kitchen, where she could be heard gathering ingredients for Egon's mom's secret remedy for all ailments, a 'treat' none of the team looked forward to at all.

Peter looked around the group. They were all tired and sore, but they were alive. His dad had caused trouble again, but to hear Egon that was a good thing. Lera and Bok could have done a great deal of damage if left unchecked. That didn't justify Charlie's actions, but until he'd brought Egon to the farmhouse, he'd had no idea the two meant to find a way to feed off humanity. And he had jumped in front of Egon to save his life. As the two of them had sat waiting for Winston's shoulder to be treated and Ray to have his forehead dressed, Egon had described the scene Peter had only heard over the walkie talkie. Peter had listened in disbelief, putting the actions together with the words he'd heard, his eyes on his father who sat across the waiting room, a disconsolate expression on his face. If Peter had said, "Get out of here, I never want to see you again," he would have trudged away without looking back.

Peter studied him now. Charlie's misery had eased. He was already counting his blessings, which included freedom, his son's forgiveness yet again, and one gold coin. It wasn't enough, but he would build on it, and in a month, Lera would be a misty memory.

After a few minutes, Egon stood up, stretched painfully, and yawned. He joined Peter at the window and for a moment the two of them stood in comfortable silence contemplating the street below. "Don't hate him," the physicist said softly. "I understand the temptation. Be exasperated, be angry, but don't write him off completely. We talked a great deal when we were trapped together. He has his own expectations of you, you know."

Peter frowned, considering that. "Oh, yeah. Going out and running scams with him," he said tightly. "Like I'd ever do that!"

"Did it ever occur to you that he might, well, be disappointed that you chose not to follow in his footsteps?" Egon asked. "Not that I believe you should, of course. Your ethics would never permit it. But--"

"But I'm not the only one who feels like I haven't been used right?" Peter asked in sudden understanding.

"I'm not defending him. It's an unreasonable expectation; you and I know that. But he doesn't. It isn't in him to know it."

"Yeah," Peter said wryly. "And you've been through the unreasonable expectation thing with your own dad so you know it doesn't go away. I know what I can expect from him and what I can't. But when he risks you guys...."

Egon shook his head. "Don't feel like you have to choose between us. No one expects that. I know you love your father. Don't blame him because I went with him. I went because it sounded dangerous, and I never meant to be caught. We had to close that cross rip."

"I know. It's just--damn it, I got scared. If he'd gotten you killed...."

"You have no need to feel guilty, either," Egon continued. "You've warned us about him. I most assuredly do not blame you for what happened to me."

Peter met his eyes for a long moment, then he heaved a great sigh of relief. "Thanks."

"Go over and talk to him," the blond man urged. "He needs to know you forgive him."

"One more time...." Peter sighed. He paused. "Hey, Egon?"

"Yes, Peter?"

"What about this entity wanting to have some fun and games with you? I bet Janine's really worried."

Egon glanced over at Janine, who smiled at him. He didn't seem particularly concerned. "Bok? He had no concept of sex, Peter. Beings in their dimension didn't engage in sexual activity. He only mentioned the subject once in passing. Nothing came of it. I suspect your father seduced Lera. Evidently she decided she had been missing something wonderful, and as a result, became quite attached to him."

Peter grimaced. He knew his father played around, even at his age, but it wasn't something the younger Venkman wanted to contemplate. But he nudged Egon in Janine's direction and went over to sit beside his father. "Hey, Pop."

Charlie's face warmed. "Son."

"We've gotta talk," Peter said.

"Whatever you say, my boy," Charlie returned. "That Egon of yours told me a few home truths over there in Jersey. You're lucky to have a friend like him."

"I know. And I intend to keep him, so next time you come around, you come to me first. Deal?"

He could see his father relaxing as he realized he had been forgiven. "You have my word," the older man promised. "I swear it, Peter."

"You'd better," Peter said.

Egon and Winston went to bed early, Charlie departed to check into a hotel, and Ray drove Janine home to Brooklyn because she insisted Egon was too tired to do so. Still too restless to sleep, Peter stayed up waiting until Ray returned, and the two of them went up the spiral stairs to the third floor bunkroom together.

On Peter's bed in solitary splendor lay an envelope with his name on it in his father's writing. He picked it up--it was heavier than it looked--and pulled out a folded note.

"Son, I wanted you to have this; it was all I could give you for you and your buddies' trouble today. You didn't take it because it was all I had of Lera, and that means a lot to me. But I know myself. Down the road, I'll be hard up and I'll cash it in and spend the money anyway because that's the way I'm made. So you take it and I hope you get enough for it to make today worth your while. It's high quality gold. I checked.

"I did love her, but you know me. I love 'em and I leave 'em. None of them ever meant to me what your mother did, even if I left her in the end, too. Don't worry that your pop's heart is permanently broken. I'll be fine--as long as I know you're still my boy. When all the shouting dies, I can look back at my life and know I did one thing right. And that one thing is you."

"From your dad?" Ray asked as slid his arms into the sleeves of his pajamas.

Peter nodded, grinning like an idiot, even if he knew part of the message was typical of his father, saying the right thing because he knew it would sound good. Still, he did meant it, and that had to count for something.

Peter shook the coin out of the envelope and curled his fingers around it. "Thanks, Dad," he whispered and looked over at the sleeping Spengler. Maybe his dad had endangered Egon, but he had also saved his life.

Even Charlie knew some things were worth more than gold.

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