{"question_id": 121, "category": "longbench_narrativeqa", "reference": ["Auld Lang Syne"], "prompt": "You are given a story, which can be either a novel or a movie script, and a question. Answer the question asconcisely as you can, using a single phrase if possible. Do not provide any explanation.\n\nStory: \t\t\t\t\t\tGhostbusters II\n\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\tby\n\t\t\t\t\t\tHarold Ramis\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\tand\n\t\t\t\t\t\tDan Aykroyd\n\n\t\t\t\t\t September 29, 1988\n\t\t\t\tLast revised Feburary 27, 1989\n\n\n<b>EXT.  MANHATTAN ISLAND - DAY\n</b>\nA high AERIAL SHOT of the island features the Statue of Liberty\nprominently in the foreground then TRAVELS ACROSS the harbor, OVER the\nBattery and Lower Manhattan to Greenwich Village.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - DAY\n</b>\nA car is being hoisted up by a municipal tow truck while its owner is\nhaving a terrible screaming arguement with a parking enforcement officer.\nDANA BARRETT comes home pushing a baby buggy, struggling with two full\nbags of groceries, and trying to dig her keys out of her purse. The\n\nbuilding superintendent FRANK, sees her struggling but pretends not to\nnotice.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (exasperated)\n\t\t\tFrank, do you think you could give me a hand\n\t\t\twith these bags?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\tI'm not a doorman, Miss Barrett.  I'm a\n\t\t\tbuilding superintendent.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tYou're also a human being, Frank.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reluctantly going to help)\n\t\t\tOkay, okay.  It's not my job, but what the\n\t\t\thell.  I'll do you a favor.  He takes the\n\t\t\tgrocery bags from her.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (setting the wheel brakes on\n\t\t\t\t the buggy)\n\t\t\tThank you, Frank.  I'll get the hang of this\n\t\t\teventually.\n\nShe continues digging in her purse while Frank leans over the buggy and\nmakes funny faces at the baby, OSCAR, a very cute nine-month old boy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the baby)\n\t\t\tHiya, Oscar.  What do you say, slugger?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tThat's a good-looking kid you got there, Ms.\n\t\t\tBarrett.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (finding her keys)\n\t\t\tThank you, Frank.  Oh, are you ever going to\n\t\t\tfix the radiator in my bedroom?  I asked you\n\t\t\tlast week.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\tDidn't I do it?\n\n<b>BABY BUGGY\n</b>\nIt starts to vibrate as if shaken by an unseen hand.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - BABY - DAY\n</b>\nHe GURGLES with delight at the movement.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - DANA AND FRANK - DAY\n</b>\nNeither of them notice the movement of the carriage.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tNo, you didn't, Frank.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, that's no problem.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThat's exactly what you said last week.\n\n<b>BUGGY WHEELS\n</b>\nThe brakes unlock themselves.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe reaches for the handlebar of the buggy, but the buggy rolls forward\njust out of her reach and stops.  Surprised by the movement, she reaches\nfor the handlebar again, but this time the buggy rolls away even\nfurther.  Alarmed now, Dana hurries after it, but the buggy keeps\nrolling down the street at ever increasing speed.\n\n<b>SIDEWALK\n</b>\nDana chases the buggy down the street, shouting to passing pedestrians\nfor help, but every time someone reaches out to stop it, the buggy\nswerves and continues unchecked.\n\n<b>INTERSECTION\n</b>\nCars, trucks, and buses speed by in both directions as the buggy races\ntoward the corner.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe puts her head down and sprints after the buggy like an Olympian.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - INTERSECTION - DAY\n</b>\nA city bus is on a collision course with the speeding baby buggy.\n\n<b>BUGGY\n</b>\nIt careens toward the corner.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - BABY - DAY\n</b>\nIts eyes are wide open with excitement.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - INTERSECTION - DAY\n</b>\nBus and buggy are closing fast as the buggy bounces over the curb and\ninto the crosswalk.\n\n<b>BUS\n</b>\nThe bus driver reacts in helpless horror as he sees the buggy enter the\nintersection at high speed.\n\n<b>BUGGY\n</b>\nIt comes to a dead stop right in the middle of the street.  The bus\ncontinues missing the buggy by inches.\n\n<b>INTERSECTION\n</b>\nCars and trucks swerve and hit their brakes as Dana runs into the\nintersection and snatches up the baby.  She hugs it close, deeply\nrelieved, then looks at the buggy with the dawning awareness that the\nsupernatural has re-entered her life.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  UPPER WEST SIDE - NEW YORK CITY STREET - GHOSTBUSTERS LOGO - DAY\n</b>\nTHEME MUSIC kicks in strongly as we see the familiar \"No Ghosts\" symbol\nand PULL BACK to reveal that it's painted on the side of Ecto-1, the\nGhostbusters' emergency vehicle, which is speeding up Broadway on the\nUpper West Side.  RAY STANTZ is driving and WINSTON ZEDDEMORE is riding\nshotgun.\n\n<b>EXT.  WEST 77TH STREET - DAY  (MOMENTS LATER)\n</b>\nThe Ectomobile pulls up in front of a carefully-restored brownstone.\nStantz and Winston, wearing their official Ghostbuster uniforms, jump\nout of the old ambulance, shoulder their proton packs and enter the\nhouse.\n\n<b>INT.  BROWNSTONE - DAY  (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nA WOMAN greets them and leads them through the expensively-furnished\nhouse.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (all business)\n\t\t\tHow many of them are there, ma'am?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWOMAN\n</b>\t\t\tFourteen.  They're in the back.  I hope you can\n\t\t\thandle them.  It's been like a nightmare.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tHow big are they?\n\nShe holds her hand out indicating about four feet.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (resolute)\n\t\t\tWe'll do our best, ma'am.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWOMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThey're right out here.\n\nShe leads them to a set of French doors that open into another room.\nStantz and Winston pause to make final adjustments to their equipment.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tReady?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tI'm ready.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThen let's do it.\n\nHe pushes through the French doors and they step into the room.\n\n<b>INT.  BROWNSTONE - DAY  (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThey are immediately attacked by fourteen or fifteen screaming KIDS\nbetween the ages of seven and ten.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tKIDS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (disappointed)\n\t\t\tGhostbusters!!  Boooo!!\n\nTables are set with party favors, ice cream and birthday cake and the\nroom is strewn with discarded toys and games.  A couple of weary parents\nsink onto lawn chairs as Stantz and Winston take over the party.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (trying his best)\n\t\t\tHow you doin', kids?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLITTLE BOY\n</b>\t\t\t\t (nasty)\n\t\t\tI though we were having He-Man.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tHe-Man couldn't make it today.  That's why\n\t\t\twe're here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tBOY\n</b>\t\t\tMy dad says you're full of crap.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (stopped cold)\n\t\t\tWell, a lot of people have trouble believing\n\t\t\tin the paranormal.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tBOY\n</b>\t\t\tNo, he just says you're full of crap and that's\n\t\t\twhy you went out of business.\n\nHe kicks Stantz in the leg.  Stantz grabs him by the shirtfront.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (low and menacing)\n\t\t\tI'm watching you.\n\t\t\t\t (to Winston)\n\t\t\tSong.\n\nWinston switches on a tiny TAPE RECORDER which starts PLAYING the\nGhostbusters THEME SONG. Stantz and WInston start singing\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ AND WINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t'There's something wrong in the neighborhood.\n\t\t\tWho you gonna call?'\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tKIDS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (all together)\n\t\t\tHe-Man!!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. WEST 77TH STREET - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nStantz and Winston wearily load their equipment into the Ectomobile.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tThat's it, Ray.  I've had it.  No more parties.\n\t\t\tI'm tired of taking abuse from over-privileged\n\t\t\tnine-year-olds.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tCome on, Winston.  We can't quit now.  The\n\t\t\tholidays are coming up.  It's our best season.\n\nThey get in the car\n\n<b>INT.  ECTO-1 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nStantz tries to start the car, but the engine won't turn over.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tGive it up, Ray.  You're living in the past.\n\t\t\tGhostbusters doesn't exist anymore.  In a year\n\t\t\tthese kids won't even remember who we are.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (tries to start the car again)\n\t\t\tUngrateful little Yuppie larvae.  After all we\n\t\t\tdid for this city.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, what did we do, Ray?  The last real job\n\t\t\twe had we bubbled up a hundred foot marshmallow\n\t\t\tman and blew the top three floors off an uptown\n\t\t\thighrise.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, but what a ride.  You can't make a\n\t\t\thamburger without chopping up a cow.\n\nHe turns the key again, the ENGING TURNS OVER, then starts GRINDING and\nCLUNKING disastrously, chewing up vital parts and dropping twisted bits\nof metal onto the pavement.  Finally, with a BLAST of black sooty\nexhaust from the tailpipe, Ecto-1 shudders and dies.  Frustrated, Stantz\nbangs his head lightly on the steering wheel\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  WKRR-TV STUDIO RECEPTION AREA - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nA bank of monitors in the lobby show the program now running on WKRR,\nChannel 10 in New York. We PUSH IN ON one of the monitors as a title\ncard and logo come up accompanied by some EERIE SYNTHESIZER MUSIC, and\nwe return to the show in progress: \"World of the Psychic with Dr. Peter\nVenkman.\"  There is a video dissolve to a standard talk show set and\nsitting there is our host PETER VENKMAN, the renowned and somewhat\ninfamous ex-Ghostbuster.\n\n<b>VENKMAN\n</b>\nHe turns TO CAMERA and talks to his viewers in a suavely engaging tone,\nunderstated and intimate.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHi, welcome back to the 'World of the Psychic,'\n\t\t\tI'm Peter Venkman and I'm chatting with my guest,\n\t\t\tauthor, lecturer and of course, psychic, Milton\n\t\t\tAnglund.\n\t\t\t\t (to his guest)\n\t\t\tMilt, your new book is called The End of the\n\t\t\tWorld.  Isn't that kind of like writing about\n\t\t\tgum disease.  Yes, it could happen, but do you\n\t\t\tthink anybody wants to read a book about it?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMILTON\n</b>\t\t\tWell, I think it's important for people to know\n\t\t\tthat the world is in danger.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, so can you tell us when it's going to\n\t\t\thappen or do we have to buy the book?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMILTON\n</b>\t\t\tI predict that the world will end at the\n\t\t\tstroke of midnight on New Year's Eve.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThis year?  That's cutting it a little close,\n\t\t\tisn't it?  I mean, just from a sales point of\n\t\t\tview, the book just came out, right?  So you're\n\t\t\tnot even looking at the paperback release for\n\t\t\tmaybe a year.  And it's going to be at least\n\t\t\tanother year after that if the thing has\n\t\t\tmovie-of-the-week or mini-series potential.\n\t\t\tYou would have been better off predicting 1992\n\t\t\tor even '94 just to be safe.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMILTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (irritated)\n\t\t\tThis is not just some money-making scheme!  I\n\t\t\tdidn't just make up the date.  I have a strong\n\t\t\tpsychic belief that the world will end on New\n\t\t\tYear's Eve.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (placating)\n\t\t\tWell, for your sake, I hope you're right.  But\n\t\t\tI think my other guest may disagree with you.\n\t\t\tElaine, you had another date in mind?\n\nThe CAMERA REVEALS ELAINE, an attractive, aggressive New Jersey\nhousewife, sitting on the other side of Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tELAINE\n</b>\t\t\tAccording to my sources, the world will end\n\t\t\ton February 14, in the year 2016.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tValentine's Day.  That's got to be a bummer.\n\t\t\tWhere did you get that date, Elaine?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tELAINE\n</b>\t\t\tI received this information from an alien.  I\n\t\t\twas at the Paramus Holiday Inn, I was having\n\t\t\ta drink in the bar when he approached me and\n\t\t\tstarted talking.  Then he must have used some\n\t\t\tsort of ray or a mind control device because\n\t\t\the made me follow him to his room and that's\n\t\t\twhere he told me about the end of the world.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYour alien had a room in the Holiday Inn?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tELAINE\n</b>\t\t\tIt may have been a room on the spacecraft made\n\t\t\tup to look like a room in the Holiday Inn.  I\n\t\t\tcan't be sure, Peter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (humoring her)\n\t\t\tNo, you can't, and I think that's the whole\n\t\t\tproblem with aliens; you just can't trust them.\n\t\t\tYou may get some nice ones occasionally like\n\t\t\tStarman or E.T., but most of them turn out to\n\t\t\tbe some kind of lizard.  Anyway, we're just\n\t\t\tabout out of time.\n\t\t\t\t (does his wrap-up right TO\n\t\t\t\t the CAMERA)\n\t\t\tNext week on 'World of the Psychic,' hairless\n\t\t\tpets.\n\t\t\t\t (holds up a hairless cat)\n\t\t\tUntil then, this is Peter Venkman saying ...\n\t\t\t\t (puts a finger to his temple\n\t\t\t\t and sends out a though to his\n\t\t\t\t viewers)\n\t\t\t... Good night.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT. TV STUDIO - CORRIDOR - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nVenkman comes out of the studio squabbling with his producer, NORMAN, a\nwell-meaning young incompetent.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhere do you find these people?  I thought\n\t\t\twe were having the telekinetic guy who bends\n\t\t\tthe spoons?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tNORMAN\n</b>\t\t\tA lot of the better psychics won't come on the\n\t\t\tshow.  They think you're too skeptical.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSkeptical!  Norman, I'm a pushover.  I think\n\t\t\tprofessional wrestling is real.\n\nThere is a small commotion down the hall as two plainclothes cops come\nout of the next studio followed by a group of mayoral assistants.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Norman)\n\t\t\tWhat's all this?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tNORMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThey just interviewed the mayor on 'Cityline.'\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThe Mayor!  He's a friend of mine.\n\nVenkman starts down the hall as the MAYOR and his principal aide, JACK\nHARDEMEYER, come walking out of the studio.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (calling to the Mayor)\n\t\t\tLenny!\n\nThe Mayor sees Venkman, blanches and hurries off, pretending not to know\nhim.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (starts to follow him)\n\t\t\tLenny!  It's Pete Venkman!\n\nThe plainclothesmen cut Venkman off and Hardemeyer puts a heavy hand\nagainst Venkman's chest.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (snide)\n\t\t\tCan I help you?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (dangerous)\n\t\t\tYeah, you can get your hand off my chest.\n\nHardemeyer smiles and drops his hand.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tI'm Jack Hardemeyer.  I'm the mayor's assistant.\n\t\t\tWhat can I do for you?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm an old friend of the mayor's.  I just\n\t\t\twant to say hello to him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (scornful)\n\t\t\tI know who you are, Doctor Venkman.  Busting\n\t\t\tany ghosts lately?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNo, that's what I want to talk to the mayor\n\t\t\tabout.  We did a little job for the city a\n\t\t\twhile back and we ended up getting sued,\n\t\t\tscrewed and tattooed by deskworms like you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (bristling)\n\t\t\tLook, you stay away from the mayor.  Next fall,\n\t\t\tbarring a disaster, he's going to be elected\n\t\t\tgovernor of this state and the last thing we\n\t\t\tneed is for him to be associated with two-bit\n\t\t\tfrauds and publicity hounds like you and your\n\t\t\tfriends.  You read me?\n\nHardemeyer walks off with the two cops.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, I get it.  But I want you to tell Lenny\n\t\t\tthat, because of you, I'm not voting for him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. MANHATTAN MUSEUM OF ART - DAY\n</b>\nThe broad front steps of the museum are crowded with tourists and\nvisitors.  Dana arrives carrying a portfolio and artist's tackle box and\nenters the museum.\n\n<b>INT. MUSEUM - RESTORATION STUDIO - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nWe are FULL-FRAME ON a larger-than-life, full-figure portrait of VIGO\nTHE CARPATHIAN, a demented and sadistic 16th century despot with an\nincredibly powerful evil presence.  Then we PULL BACK to reveal the\nstudio, which is a large open space on the top floor of the museum, lit\nby large skylights in the ceiling.  Working on the Vigo painting is\nJANOSZ POHA, a youngish art historian and painter, the head of the\ndepartment, quirky, intense and somewhat creepy.  Janosz is staring\nlongingly across the room at Dana.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe is carefully cleaning a 19th Century landscape painting, still\npreoccupied by the extraordinary near-accident with the buggy.  Janosz\nwatches her for a moment, then comes up behind her and looks over her\nshoulder.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with an East European accent)\n\t\t\tStill working on the Turner?\n\nDana jumps, startled by the intrusion.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tOh, yes, I got in a little late this morning,\n\t\t\tJanosz.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou know, you are really doing very good work\n\t\t\there.  I think soon you may be ready to assist\n\t\t\tme in some of the more important restorations.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThank you, Janosz.  I've learned a lot here,\n\t\t\tbut now that my baby's a little older, I was\n\t\t\thoping to rejoin the orchestra.\n\n<b>VIGO PAINTING\n</b>\nAt the mention of Dana's baby, the figure of Vigo miraculously turns his\nhead and looks at Dana.\n\n<b>JANOSZ AND DANA\n</b>\nNeither of them notice the movement in the painting.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (disappointed)\n\t\t\tWe'll be very sorry to lose you.  Perhaps I\n\t\t\tcould take you to lunch today?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tActually, I'm not eating lunch today.  I have\n\t\t\tan appointment.\n\t\t\t\t (looks at her watch)\n\t\t\tIn fact, I'd better go.\n\nShe starts gathering up her things.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tEvery day I ask you, and every day you've got\n\t\t\tsomething else to do.  Do I have bad breath\n\t\t\tor something?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (trying to brush him off)\n\t\t\tI'm sorry.  Perhaps some other time.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, I'll take a raincheck on that.\n\nJanosz smiles at her as she exits, then goes back to his easel.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to himself)\n\t\t\tI think she likes me.\n\nHe switches on an English language TAPE and starts practicing the\nphrases as he resumes working.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. UNIVERSITY - DAY\n</b>\nDana Barrett crosses the quad and enters a modern building.  A sign\nidentifies it as \"The Institute for Advanced Theoretical Research.\"\n\n<b>INT. UNIVERSITY - DAY (A LITTLE LATER)\n</b>\nDana is explaining the buggy incident to EGON SPENGLER, the soberly\nintellectual techno-wizard and former Ghostbuster, as he conducts an\nexperiment assisted by a research team of graduate students, all of whom\nare Japanese, Chinese, or Korean.  The device he is testing is a black\nbox about the size of a Sony Watchman with both digital and graphic\ndisplays.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t... and then the buggy just suddenly stopped\n\t\t\tdead in the middle of the street\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\n\t\t\tDid anyone else see this happen?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHundreds of people.  Believe me, I didn't\n\t\t\timagine this.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI'm not saying you did.  In science we always\n\t\t\tlook for the simplest explanation.\n\nAn ASSISTANT interrupts.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tASSISTANT\n</b>\t\t\tWe're ready, Dr. Spengler\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Assistant)\n\t\t\tWe'll start with the negative calibration.\n\nHe picks up the device and prepares to test it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (curious)\n\t\t\tWhat are you working on, Egon?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI'm trying to determine whether human\n\t\t\temotional states have a measurable effect on\n\t\t\tthe psychomagnetheric energy field.  It's a\n\t\t\ttheory Ray and I were working on when we had\n\t\t\tto dissolve Ghostbusters.\n\nAn assistant draws a curtain revealing a large picture window, actually\na two-way mirror, that looks into a small waiting room.  Inside the\nwaiting room they can see but not hear a youngish couple having a heated\narguement.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tThey think they're here for marriage\n\t\t\tcounseling.  We've kept them waiting for two\n\t\t\thours and we've been gradually increasing the\n\t\t\ttemperature in the room.\n\t\t\t\t (checking a heat sensor)\n\t\t\tIt's up to 95 degrees at the moment.  Now my\n\t\t\tassistant is going to enter and ask them if\n\t\t\tthey'd mind waiting another half-hour.\n\nAs Spengler, Dana, and the research team watch, the assistant enters the\nwaiting room and tells the couple about the new delay.  They explode\nwith anger both at him and each other while Spengler monitors them\nthrough the glass.  After recording his readings, he returns to his\nAssistant.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWe'll do the happiness index next.\n\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tI'd like to bring Ray in on your case, if\n\t\t\tit's all right with you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, whatever you think -- but not Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tOh no.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (affectedly casual)\n\t\t\tDo you ever see him?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tOccasionally\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHow is he these days?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tVenkman?  I think he was borderline for a\n\t\t\twhile there.  Then he crossed the border.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tDoes he ever mention me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tNo.  Not that I can recall.\n\nThey move to another two-way mirror through which they can see a lovely\nlittle girl playing with a wonderful array of toys.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (slightly disappointed)\n\t\t\tWell, we didn't part on very good terms and\n\t\t\twe sort of lost track of each other when I\n\t\t\tgot married.\n\nThe Assistant interrupts again.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tASSISTANT\n</b>\t\t\tWe're ready for the affection test.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the assistant)\n\t\t\tGood.  Send in the puppy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (continuing)\n\t\t\tI thought of calling him after my marriage\n\t\t\tended, but --.  Anyway, I appreciate you're\n\t\t\tdoing this, Egon\n\nThey watch as another assistant enters the playroom with an adorable\nCocker Spaniel puppy and gives it to the little girl.  Spengler monitors\nher as she jumps for joy and hugs the little dog.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (handing him a card)\n\t\t\tThis is my address and telephone number.\n\t\t\tWill you call me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tCertainly.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tEgon, I'd rather you didn't mention any of\n\t\t\tthis to Peter if you don't mind.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI won't.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThank you.\n\nShe shakes his hand and exits.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to his assistant)\n\t\t\tNow let's see how she reacts when we take\n\t\t\taway the puppy\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. RAY'S OCCULT BOOK STORE - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nIt's a small basement shop located on a quaint commercial block in\nGreenwich Village.  The window is crowded with occult artifacts and old\nbooks full of arcane metaphysical lore.  The TELEPHONE RINGS.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (v.o., answering the phone)\n\t\t\tRay's Occult.\n\n<b>INT. RAY'S OCCULT BOOKS - CONTINUOUS\n</b>\nThe shelves are jammed floor to ceiling with books on the paranormal.\nRay sits on a barstool behind the counter wearing an old cardigan\nsweater over a T-shirt.  He has on a pair of reading glasses and chews\non a battered, reeking pipe.  As he talks on the phone he prepares a cup\nof herb tea for Spengler who is thumbing through an arcane text.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on the phone)\n\t\t\tYeah ... mmhmm ... What do you need? ... What\n\t\t\thave I got?  I've got alchemy, astrology,\n\t\t\tapparitions, Bundu Magic Men, demon\n\t\t\tintercession, U.F.O. abductions, psychic\n\t\t\tsurgery, stigmata, modern miracles, pixie\n\t\t\tsightings, golden geese, geists, ghosts, I've\n\t\t\tgot it all -- what are you looking for? ...\n\t\t\tDon't have any.  Try the stockyards.\n\nHe hangs up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWho was that?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tSome crank.  Looking for goat hooves.  Come\n\t\t\tup with anything?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (referring to the book)\n\t\t\tThis one's interesting.  Berlin, 1939, a\n\t\t\tflower cart took off by itself and rolled\n\t\t\tapproximately half a kilometer over level\n\t\t\tground.  Three hundred eyewitnesses.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou might want to check those Duke University\n\t\t\tmean averaging studies on controlled\n\t\t\tpsychokinesis.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (going to the stacks)\n\t\t\tGood idea.\n\nThe bones hanging over the door rattle as Venkman enters the shop.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOh, hello, perhaps you could help me.  I'm\n\t\t\tlooking for an aerosol love potion I could\n\t\t\tspray on a certain Penthouse Pet that would\n\t\t\tmake her unconditionally submit to an unusual\n\t\t\tpersonal request.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOh, hiya, Pete.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo, no goat hooves, huh?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (strung)\n\t\t\tI knew that voice sounded familiar.  What's\n\t\t\tup?  How's it going?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNowhere -- fast.  Why don't you lock up and\n\t\t\tbuy me a sub?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (slightly evasive)\n\t\t\tUh, I can't.  I'm kind of working on something.\n\nSpengler steps out of the stacks.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tEgon!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tHello, Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHow've you been?  How's teaching?  I bet\n\t\t\tthose science chicks really dig that big\n\t\t\tcranium of yours, huh?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI think they're more interested in my\n\t\t\tepididymis.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI don't even want to know where that is.\n\nVenkman steps behind the counter and takes a beer from Ray's mini-fridge.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOh, your book came in, Venkman.  Magical\n\t\t\tPaths to Fortune and Power.\n\nHe hands Venkman the book.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tGreat.\n\t\t\t\t (reading the contents)\n\t\t\tSo what are you guys working on?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOh, just checking something for an old friend.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWho?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (at a loss)\n\t\t\tWho?  Just -- someone we know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOh, Ray --\n\nHe grabs Stantz by both ears and pulls up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWho?  Who?  Who?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tAaah!  Nobody!  I can't tell you!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWho, Ray?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (giving in)\n\t\t\tDana!  Dana Barrett!\n\nVenkman lets go of his ears and smiles.  Spengler looks at Stantz and\nshakes his head.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT. DANA'S APARTMENT - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThe apartment is old and creatively furnished with a comfortable mix of\nmodern and traditional pieces.  Maria, a young Hispanic woman who does\nday care for Dana, is feeding the baby in the kitchen when the DOORBELL\n<b>RINGS.\n</b>\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\nDana enters from the bedroom and crosses to the front door.  She opens\nit and admits Ray and Egon.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (hugging Ray)\n\t\t\tHi, Ray.  It's good to see you.  Thanks for\n\t\t\tcoming.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo problem.  Always glad to help -- and hug.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Spengler)\n\t\t\tHi, Egon.\n\nShe shakes his hand and is about to close the door when Venkman appears\nin the doorway.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHi, Dana.\n\nDana is caught completely off guard by Venkman's surprise appearance.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI knew you'd come crawling back to me.\n\nShe regards him coolly, as always amused and amazed at his\npresumptuousness.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHello, Peter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tYou know, Dana, I'm very very hurt that you\n\t\t\tdidn't call me first.  I'm still into all\n\t\t\tthis stuff, you know.  Haven't you ever seen\n\t\t\tmy show?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI have.  That's why I didn't call you first.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI can see that you're still very bitter about\n\t\t\tus, but in the interest of science, I'm going\n\t\t\tto give it my best shot.  Let's go to work,\n\t\t\tboys.\n\nStantz and Spengler begin a comprehensive parapsychological work-up on\nthe baby and the immediate physical environment.\n\n<b>VENKMAN AND DANA\n</b>\nVenkman starts nosing around the apartment.  Dana follows him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo what happened to Mr. Right?  I hear he\n\t\t\tditched you and the kid and moved to Europe.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHe didn't \"ditch\" me.  We had some problems,\n\t\t\the got a good offer from an orchestra in\n\t\t\tEngland and he took it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHe ditched you.  You should've married me,\n\t\t\tyou know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tYou never asked me, and every time I brought\n\t\t\tit up you'd get drowsy and fall asleep.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tMen are very sensitive, you know.  We need to\n\t\t\tfeel loved and desired, too.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tWell, when you started introducing me as \"the\n\t\t\told ball and chain,\" that's when I left.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI may have a few personal problems but one thing\n\t\t\tI am is a total professional.\n\nHe leaves her and crosses to Spengler.\n\n<b>SPENGLER\n</b>\nHe's taking a complete set of body and head measurements of the baby\nwith a tape measure and calipers.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat are you going to do, Egon?  Knit him a\n\t\t\tsnowsuit?\n\nSpengler ignores the remark and hands Venkman a specimen jar.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI'd like to have a stool specimen\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, you would.  Is that for personal or\n\t\t\tprofessional reasons?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (picking up the baby)\n\t\t\tOkay, kid.  Up you go.\n\nHe starts clowning with the baby, holding him over his head and pressing\nhis nose into the baby's belly, pretending that the baby is attacking\nhim.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHelp!  Please somebody help me!  Get him off!\n\t\t\tQuickly!  He's gone completely berserk!\n\nDana is amused and somewhat disarmed by Venkman's rapport with the baby.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tWhat do you think?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThere's no doubt about it.  He's got his\n\t\t\tfather's looks.  The kid is ugly -- extremely\n\t\t\tugly.  And smelly.\n\t\t\t\t (resumes playing with the baby)\n\t\t\tYou stink!  It's just horrible.  You are the\n\t\t\tstinkiest baby I ever smelled.\n\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tWhat's his name?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHis name is Oscar.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOscar!  You poor kid!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (losing patience)\n\t\t\tPeter, this is serious.  I need to know if you\n\t\t\tthink there's anything unusual about him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tUnusual?\n\t\t\t\t (holds up the baby and\n\t\t\t\t scrutinizes him)\n\t\t\tI don't know.  I haven't had a lot of\n\t\t\texperience with babies.\n\nHe looks at the baby, pulling his feet up, trying to get the sleeper\noff.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (taking the specimen jar)\n\t\t\tI'll do it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'll supervise.\n\n<b>INT. DANA'S APARTMENT - NURSERY - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nVenkman enters and finds Stantz monitoring the room.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tWell, Holmes, what do you think?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt's an interesting one, Pete.  If anything\n\t\t\twas going on it's totally subdued now.\n\nSpengler enters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Spengler)\n\t\t\tWhat now, Brainiac?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI think we should see if we can find\n\t\t\tanything abnormal on the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tFinding something abnormal on the street\n\t\t\tshouldn't be too hard.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. EAST 77TH STREET - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nDana walks down the street with Venkman, retracing the path of the\nrunaway buggy.  Spengler and Stantz follow, monitoring PKE valences from\nthe pavement and the buildings.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Dana, nostalgic)\n\t\t\tBrings back a lot of sweet memories, doesn't\n\t\t\tit?\n\t\t\t\t (pointing out familiar\n\t\t\t\t neighborhood sights)\n\t\t\tThere's our old cash machine.  And the dry\n\t\t\tcleaners we used to go to.  And the old\n\t\t\tvideo store.\n\t\t\t\t (he wipes away an imaginary\n\t\t\t\t tear)\n\t\t\tWe really had some good times, didn't we?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tWe definitely had a moment or two.\n\nDana stops at the intersection and points to the middle of the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThat's where the buggy stopped.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, let's take a look.\n\nVenkman walks right out into the middle of the street, completely\noblivious to the CARS HONKING and whizzing past him and starts motioning\nlike a traffic cop, bringing traffic to a standstill.  Then he signals\nfor Dana, Stantz and Spengler to join him in the middle of the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reading the PKE meter)\n\t\t\tIs this the spot?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tA little to the left.  Right there!  That's\n\t\t\twhere it stopped.\n\nStantz reads the PKE meter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNothing.  Not a trace.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWhy don't we try the Giga-meter?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat's that?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tEgon and I have been working on a gauge to\n\t\t\tmeasure psychomagnetheric energy in GEVs -\n\t\t\tgiga electron volts.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tThat's a thousand million electron volts.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI knew that.\n\nSpengler switches on the Giga-meter, the device he was testing in the\nlab, and passes it over the spot on the street where the buggy stopped.\nThe indicator goes right into the red zone and the DEVICE starts CLICKING\n<b>WILDLY.\n</b>\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI think we hit the honeypot, boys.  There's\n\t\t\tsomething brewing under the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (worried, to Venkman)\n\t\t\tPeter, do you think maybe I have some genetic\n\t\t\tproblem or something that makes me vulnerable\n\t\t\tto these supernatural things.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou mean like the time you got possessed and\n\t\t\tturned into a monster terror dog?  No, not\n\t\t\ta chance.  Total coincidence.\n\t\t\t\t (to Stantz and Spengler)\n\t\t\tAm I right?\n\nStantz and Spengler look at him skeptically, not convinced by the\ncoincidence theory.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MANHATTAN MUSEUM OF ART - LATE AFTERNOON\n</b>\nThe museum has just closed for the day and the last of the visitors and\nemployees are leaving.\n\n<b>INT.  RESTORATION STUDIO - SAME TIME\n</b>\nJanosz is working late on the painting of Vigo.\n\n<b>VIGO PAINTING\n</b>\nUnnoticed by Janosz, the eyes of Vigo start to glow.\n\n<b>JANOSZ\n</b>\nHe touches his brush to the canvas and a powerful current of red,\ncrackling energy surges through the brush and courses through his body,\ndriving him to his knees.\n\n<b>PAINTING\n</b>\nThe figure of Vigo comes to life, turns toward Janosz and gestures\ndramatically at him.  Then he speaks to Janosz in a commanding voice.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tI, Vigo, the scourge of Carpathia, the\n\t\t\tsorrow of Moldavia, command you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (in agony)\n\t\t\tCommand me, lord.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tOn a mountain of skulls in a castle of pain,\n\t\t\tI sat on a throne of blood.  What was will\n\t\t\tbe, what is will be no more.  Now is the\n\t\t\tseason of evil.  Find me a child that I might\n\t\t\tlive again.\n\nBolts of red-hot energy shoot from the eyes of Vigo into Janosz's eyes.\nHe screams and falls to his knees.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. COFFEE SHOP - EAST 77TH STREET - NIGHT\n</b>\nVenkman and Stantz come out with small boxes containing coffee,\nsandwiches and Danish and start walking up the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI love this.  We're onto something really\n\t\t\tbig.  I can smell it, Ray.  We're going to\n\t\t\tmake some headlines with this one.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tHey, hey, hey, stresshound!  Are you nuts?\n\t\t\tIf anybody found out about this we'd be in\n\t\t\tserious trouble.  The judge couldn't have\n\t\t\tbeen clearer - no ghostbusting.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tRelax.  We're going to keep this whole thing\n\t\t\tnice and quiet, low key, no profile.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nSpengler, wearing a hardhat, is JACKHAMMERING a hole in the middle of the\nstreet.  Safety cones and reflectors have been set up and a small area is\nlit by strong work lights.\n\n<b>POLICE CAR\n</b>\nIt turns onto East 77th Street, cruises slowly up to the makeshift\nworksite and stops.  The noise of the JACKHAMMER is so loud, Spengler\ndoesn't notice the police car and the two COPS inside looking at them.\nFinally, he looks up, sees the police car and freezes.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRST COP\n</b>\t\t\tHow ya doing?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reeking with guilt)\n\t\t\tFine!  It's cutting fine now.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRST COP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (curious)\n\t\t\tWhy are you cutting?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (looking for one of the\n\t\t\t\t others)\n\t\t\tWhy are we cutting?  Uh - boss!\n\nVenkman and Stantz arrive just in time wearing Con Ed hardhats, doing a\ngood imitation of a Consolidated Edison repairman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRST COP\n</b>\t\t\tWhat are you doing here?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (belligerent)\n\t\t\tWhat the hell's it look like we're doing?\n\t\t\tWe're bustin out asses over here 'cause\n\t\t\tsome douchebag downtown ain't got nothin'\n\t\t\tbetter to do than make idiots like us work\n\t\t\tlate on a Friday night, right?\n\t\t\t\t (looks to Spengler for\n\t\t\t\t agreement)\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with a \"right on\" fist)\n\t\t\tYo.\n\nThe cops seem satisfied by the explanation.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRST COP\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, boys, take it easy.\n\nThey drive off.  Spengler breathes a great sigh of relief and starts\nrubbing his sore shoulders.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tYou were supposed to help me with this.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou need the exercise.\n\nStantz resumes JACKHAMMERING, while Venkman and Spengler clear the\nrubble from the hole.  Suddenly he hits metal.  They clear away\ngenerations of paving material revealing an ornate iron manhole cover.\nThe manhole cover bears a strange logo and the letters NYPRR.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (examing it)\n\t\t\tNYPRR.  What the hell -- ?  Help me lift\n\t\t\tthis.\n\nThey prey off the iron cover with crowbars, uncovering a very dark and\nvery deep abyss.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shining a flashlight into\n\t\t\t\t the hole)\n\t\t\tWow!  It's an old airshaft.  It just goes\n\t\t\tforever.\n\nSpengler leans in with the giga-meter which is reading even higher now.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tVery intense.  We need a deeper reading.\n\t\t\tSomebody has to go down there.\n\nVenkman and Spengler both look at Ray.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThanks, boys.\n\nThey snap Stantz into a harness and lower him into the hole on a strong\ncable attached to a winch.  Ray calls out orders to them as he descends\ndeeper and deeper.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\t\t (his voice echoing in the\n\t\t\t\t airshaft)\n\t\t\tKeep going -- more -- more --\n\n<b>INT.  HOLE - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nStantz rappels off the sides of the airshaft as he continues his descent\nin total darkness.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (using a radio now)\n\t\t\tLower -- lower --\n\t\t\t\t (to himself)\n\t\t\tGee, this really is deep.\n\nSuddenly, his feet kick thin air as he gets to the bottom of the airshaft\nand swings free in some kind of tunnel.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouts)\n\t\t\tHold it!  Steady!\n\nHe pulls a powerful flashlight from his utility belt and shines it into\nthe tunnel below.\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - STANTZ'S POV - NIGHT\n</b>\nHe is suspended near the top of a beautifully preserved chamber with\nrounded, polished tile walls ardorned with intricate, colorfully enameled\nArt Nouveau mosaics.  A finely inlaid sign identifies it as VAN HORNE\n<b>STATION.\n</b>\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe pans the walls with his flashlight, admiring the excellent tilework,\nand speaks quietly to Venkman and Spengler over his walkie-talkie.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reverently)\n\t\t\tThis is it, boys, the end of the line.  Van\n\t\t\tHorne Station.  The old New York Pneumatic.\n\t\t\tIt's still here.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - HOLE - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nVenkman has no idea what he's talking about.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (explaining)\n\t\t\tThe New York Pneumatic Railway.  It was an\n\t\t\texperimental subway system.  Fan-forced\n\t\t\tair-trains, built around 1870.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (over the walkie-talkie)\n\t\t\tThis is about as deep as you can go under\n\t\t\tManhattan without digging your own hole.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tWhat's the reading?\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nStantz shines his flashlight on the meter and whistles at the extremely\nhigh reading.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on the radio)\n\t\t\tOff the top of the scale.  This place is\n\t\t\treally hot.  Lower me to the floor.\n\nAs Venkman and Spengler feed him some more cable, he pans his flashlight\ndown the wall of the station, then onto the floor.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouts)\n\t\t\tHold it!!  Stop!!  Whoa!!\n\n<b>INT. VAN HORNE STATION - STANTZ'S POV - FLOOR - NIGHT\n</b>\nBelow him is a river of bubbling seething, glowing slime, a veritable\ntorrent of disgusting ooze.\n\nAs he stares into the foul effluent, we become aware of the strangely\namplified and magnified sounds of great ENGINES THROBBING and pulsing in\nthe bowels of the city, of WATER RUSHING through pipes, STEAM HISSING\nthrough ducts, the muffled RUMBLE of the SUBWAY and the ROAR of TRAFFIC,\nand mixed with it all, the unmistakable sounds of human conflict and pain\n-- VOICES SHOUTING in anger, SCREAMING in fear, GROANING in pain, a sad\nand eerie symphony.\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - STANTZ - NIGHT\n</b>\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (ranting on the radio)\n\t\t\tOh, my God!  It's a seething, bubbling,\n\t\t\tpsychic cess!  Interlocked tubes of plasm,\n\t\t\tcrackling with negative GEVs!  It's glowing\n\t\t\tand moving!  It's -- it's a river of slime!!\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe dangles from the end of the cable, holding his feet up as high as he\ncan.  He unhooks a device from his utility belt and pulls the trigger on\nit, shooting out a long telescoping fishing-pole with a scoop on the end.\nReaching down, he scoops up a sample of the slime and starts retracting\nthe pole.\n\n<b>SLIME\n</b>\nSuddenly, a grotesque arm with a long skeletal fingers reaches up out of\nthe slime and snatches at Stantz's dangling feet.  He jerks his legs up\nas several more arms poke up out of the slime and reach for him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on the radio)\n\t\t\tHaul me up, Venkman!  Now!\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - HOLE - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nVenkman and Spengler start hauling in the cable as a Con Ed Supervisor's\ncar drives up, and behind it, the same police car they saw earlier.  A\nburly SUPERVISOR gets out and crosses toward them, followed by the two\ncops.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSUPERVISOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (no nonsense)\n\t\t\tOkay, what's the story here?\n\nVenkman and Spengler stop pulling up the cable and Venkman tries the\nbelligerent worker ploy again, only this time he's wearing a Nynex\nhardhat.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat, I got time for this?  We got three\n\t\t\tthousand phones out in the Village and about\n\t\t\teight million miles of cable to check.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSUPERVISOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (not buying it)\n\t\t\tThe phone lines are over there.\n\t\t\t\t (points to the curb)\n\nVenkman pops Spengler on the head.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI told ya!\n\nStantz can be heard ranting over Venkman's walkie-talkie.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\t\t (filtered)\n\t\t\tHelp!  Help!  Pull me up!  It's alive!  It's\n\t\t\teating my boots.\n\nVenkman switches off the walkie-talkie.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRST COP\n</b>\t\t\tYou ain't with Con Ed or the phone company.\n\t\t\tWe checked.  Tell me another one.\n\nVenkman stares at the Cop for a long moment.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tGas leak?\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - SAME TIME\n</b>\nStantz is hanging there, looking down into the shaft at the slime which\nis now bubbling up the shaft after him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouting)\n\t\t\tGet me out of here!!\n\nDesperate now, he kicks wildly and knocks loose a section of an old,\nrusting conduit.\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - BOTTOM OF THE SHAFT\n</b>\nThe conduit falls on a heavy electrical transmission line, ripping\nthrough the cable with a SHOWER OF SPARKS.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - HOLE - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n</b>\nVenkman, Spengler, the cops and the supervisor all react to a bright\nFLASH deep down in the hole and a SHOUT from Stantz.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - STREET - NIGHT\n</b>\nOne by one, all the streetlights go out; then the lights on all the\nbuildings along East 77th street; then the whole neighborhood blacks\nout, and finally the entire city is plunged into darkness.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\tSorry.\n\n<b>INT. DANA BARRETT'S APARTMENT - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nShe walks around in the dark lighting candles and placing them all over\nthe living room.  Then she finds a transistor radio and turns it on for\ninformation about the blackout.  She listens to a special news report\nfor a moment, then has a compelling impulse to go check on the baby.\nShe crosses to the nursery carrying a candle and quietly opens the door\nand looks in.  Suddenly the DOORBELL RINGS, scaring her half to death.\nLeaving the chain on the door, she opens it a crack and sees Janosz\nstanding in the hall, eerily lit by a red emergency spot at the end of\nthe hallway.  He looks slightly dazed and even creepier.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (surprised)\n\t\t\tJanosz?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tHello, Dana.  I happened to be in the\n\t\t\tneighborhood and I thought I'd stop by to\n\t\t\tsee if everything's all right with you --\n\t\t\tyou know, with the blackout and everything?\n\t\t\tAre you okay?  Is the baby all right?\n\nHis affected concern is chilling.  She is frightened but conceals it\nfrom him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (mechanically and cautiously)\n\tWe're fine, Janosz.\n\nHe tires to look around her into the apartment.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tDo you need anything?  You want me to come\n\t\t\tin?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tNo, everything's fine.  Honestly.  Thanks\n\t\t\tanyway.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, just thought I'd check.  Good night,\n\t\t\tDana.  Sleep well.  Don't let the bedbugs\n\t\t\tbite you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tGood night, Janosz.\n\nShe closes the door behind him and double locks it, then stands there\nstaring into the candlelight, alone and afraid.\n\n<b>INT.  HALLWAY OF DANA'S BUILDING - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nJanosz stands there in semi-darkness, then his eyes light up like\nheadlights and he walks off down the hall.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - WITNESS STAND - NEXT DAY\n</b>\nThe JUDGE, a rather sour-looking jurist of the old school, calls the\ncourt to order.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tI want to make one thing very clear before\n\t\t\twe go any further.  The law does not recognize\n\t\t\tthe existence of ghosts, and I don't believe\n\t\t\tin them either, so I don't want to hear a\n\t\t\tlot of malarkey about goblins and spooks and\n\t\t\tdemons.  We're going to stick to the facts\n\t\t\tin this case and save the ghost stories for\n\t\t\tthe kiddies.  Understood?\n\n<b>DEFENSE TABLE\n</b>\nStantz leans over and whispers to Spengler.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tSeems like a pretty open-minded guy, huh?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tHis nickname is \"The Hammer.\"\n\nStantz and Spengler are seated with their attorney LOUIS TULLY, lawyer,\nCPA and former demonic possession victim.  Louis is desperately paging\nthrough a mountain of legal textbooks.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (nervous)\n\t\t\tI think you're making a big mistake here,\n\t\t\tfellas.  I do mostly tax law and some probate\n\t\t\tstuff occasionally.  I got my law degree at\n\t\t\tnight school.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThat's all right.  We got arrested at night.\n\n<b>SPECTATORS' GALLERY\n</b>\nVenkman is talking to Dana at the wooden rail in front of the gallery.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI wish I could stay.  I feel personally\n\t\t\tresponsible for you being here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou are personally responsible.  If I can\n\t\t\tget conjugal rights, will you visit me at\n\t\t\tSing Sing?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tPlease don't say that.  You won't go to prison.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDon't worry about me.  I'm like a cat.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tYou mean you cough up hairballs all over\n\t\t\tthe rug?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm El Gato.  I always land on my feet.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (sincerely)\n\t\t\tGood luck.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThanks.\n\nShe gives him a quick, unexpected kiss and exits.  Venkman savors it for\na moment then goes back to the defense table.\n\n<b>PROSECUTION TABLE\n</b>\nJack Hardemeyer, the mayor's principal aide, is goading the PROSECUTOR,\na very sober, humorless woman in her late thirties.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tHow are you doing, hon?  Just put these guys\n\t\t\taway fast and make sure they go away for a\n\t\t\tlong, long time.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tIt shouldn't be hard with this list of charges.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tGood.  Very good.  The mayor and future\n\t\t\tgovernor won't forget this.\n\nHe smiles conspiratorially and makes a point of passing the defense table\non his way out of the courtroom.\n\n<b>DEFENSE TABLE\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters look up as Hardemeyer approaches.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (gloating)\n\t\t\tNice going, Venkman.  Violating a judicial\n\t\t\trestraining order, willful destruction of\n\t\t\tpublic property, fraud, malicious mischief\n\t\t\t-- smooth move.  See you in a couple years\n\t\t\t-- at your first parole hearing.\n\nHerdemeyer exits.  Louis looks devastated.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tGee, the whole city's against us.  I think\n\t\t\tI'm going to be sick.\n\nSpengler hands him a waste basket as the Prosecutor calls her first\nwitness.\n\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - WITNESS STAND - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThe Con Ed Supervisor is testifying.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tMr. Fianella, please look at Exhibits A\n\t\t\tthrough F on the table over there.  Do you\n\t\t\trecognize that equipment?\n\n<b>EXHIBIT TABLE\n</b>\nLying on the table are the basic tools of the Ghostbusting trade: three\nproton packs and particle throwers, a couple of ghost traps, and various\nmeters and detection devices.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCON ED\n</b>\t\t\t\t (o.c.)\n\t\t\tThat's the stuff the cops found in their\n\t\t\ttruck.\n\n<b>WITNESS STAND\n</b>\nShe continues.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tDo you know what this equipment is used for?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCON ED\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shrugs)\n\t\t\tI don't know.  Catching ghosts, I guess.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Judge)\n\t\t\tMay I remind the court that the defendants\n\t\t\tare under a judicial restraining order that\n\t\t\tspecifically forbids them from performing\n\t\t\tservices as paranormal investigators and\n\t\t\teliminators.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tSo noted.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tNow, Mr. Fianella, can you identify the\n\t\t\tsubstance in the jar on the table marked\n\t\t\tExhibit F?\n\n<b>PROSECUTOR\n</b>\nShe goes to the exhibit table and picks up a specimen jar containing the\nslime sample Stantz removed from the tunnel.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCON ED\n</b>\t\t\tI been working underground for Con Ed for\n\t\t\t27 years and I never saw anything like that\n\t\t\tin my life.  We checked out that tunnel the\n\t\t\tnext day and we didn't find nothing.  If it\n\t\t\twas down there, they must have put it there.\n\n<b>DEFENSE TABLE\n</b>\nVenkman and Spengler look at Stantz.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (defensively)\n\t\t\tHey, I didn't imagine it.  There must have\n\t\t\tbeen ten thousand gallons of it down there.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tIt may be ebbing and flowing from some tidal\n\t\t\tsource.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (nervously)\n\t\t\tShould I say that?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI doubt that they'd believe us.\n\nLouis moans and goes back to his notes.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t WIPE TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - WITNESS STAND - LATER\n</b>\nVenkman himself is on the stand and Louis is questioning him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tSo like you were just trying to help out\n\t\t\tyour old friend because she was scared and\n\t\t\tyou didn't really mean to do anything bad\n\t\t\tand you really love the city and won't ever\n\t\t\tdo anything like this again, right?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tObjection, your Honor.  He's leading the\n\t\t\twitness.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tThe witness is leading him.  Sustained.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, let me rephrase that question.\n\t\t\t\t (to venkman)\n\t\t\tDidn't you once coach a basketball team for\n\t\t\tunderprivileged children?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYes, I did.  We were city champs.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tObjection.  Irrelevant and immaterial.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tSustained.  Mr. Tully, do you have anything\n\t\t\tto ask this witness that may have some\n\t\t\tbearing on this case?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Venkman)\n\t\t\tDo I?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I think you've helped them enough already.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Judge)\n\t\t\tNo, I guess not.\n\t\t\t\t (to the Prosecutor)\n\t\t\tYour witness.\n\nThe Prosecutor rises and approaches the witness stand with relish.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tSo, Dr. Venkman, please explain to the court\n\t\t\twhy it is you and your co-defendants took it\n\t\t\tupon yourselves to dig a big hole in the\n\t\t\tmiddle of the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSeventy-seventh and First Avenue has so many\n\t\t\tholes already we didn't think anyone would\n\t\t\tnotice.\n\nThe gallery laughs and the Judge gavels for order.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tKeep that up, mister, and I'll find you in\n\t\t\tcontempt.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSorry, your Honor, but when somebody sets\n\t\t\tme up like that I can't resist.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tI'll ask you again, Dr. Venkman.  Why were\n\t\t\tyou digging the hole?  And please remember\n\t\t\tthat you're under oath.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI had my fingers crossed when they swore me\n\t\t\tin, but I'm going to tell you the truth.\n\t\t\tThere are things in this world that go way\n\t\t\tbeyond human understanding, things that\n\t\t\tcan't be explained and that most people don't\n\t\t\twant to know about anyway.  That's where we\n\t\t\tcome in.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tSo what are you saying?  That the world of\n\t\t\tthe supernatural is your special province?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I guess I'm just saying that shit happens\n\t\t\tand somebody has to deal with it.\n\nThe spectators in the gallery cheer and the judge gavels for order.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t WIPE TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - LATER\n</b>\nThe trial is nearing its end.  The Judge calls on Louis to make his\nsummation.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tDoes the counsel for the defense wish to\n\t\t\tmake any final arguements?\n\nLouis rises.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tYour honor, may I approach the bench?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (impatient)\n\t\t\tYes.\n\nLouis crosses to the judge's bench.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the judge)\n\t\t\tCan I have some of your water?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tGet on with it, counselor!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (scared)\n\t\t\tYour honor, ladies and gentlemen of the --\n\t\t\t\t (he remembers there's no\n\t\t\t\t jury)\n\t\t\taudience.  I don't think it's fair to call\n\t\t\tmy clients frauds.  Okay, the blackout was\n\t\t\ta big problem for everybody.  I was stuck in\n\t\t\tan elevator for about three hours and I had\n\t\t\tto go to the bathroom the whole time, but I\n\t\t\tdon't blame them because once I turned into\n\t\t\ta dog and they helped me.  Thank you.\n\nHe goes back to the defense table and sits down.  Stantz and Spengler\nhang their heads.  Venkman pats Louis on the back.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Louis)\n\t\t\tWay to go.  Concise and to the point.\n\n<b>JUDGE\n</b>\nHe stares at Louis, astonished at his summation.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tThat's it?  That's all you have to say?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tDid I forget something?\n\nHe searches through a disorderly pile of notes.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tThat was unquestionably the worst\n\t\t\tpresentation of a case I've ever heard in a\n\t\t\tcourt of law!  I ought to cite you for\n\t\t\tcontempt and have you disbarred.  As for\n\t\t\tyour clients, Peter Venkman, Raymond Stantz\n\t\t\tand Egon Spengler, on the charges of\n\t\t\tconspiracy, fraud and the willful destruction\n\t\t\tof public property, I find you guilty on all\n\t\t\tcounts.  I order you to pay fines in the\n\t\t\tamount of $25,000 each and I sentence you to\n\t\t\teighteen months in the city correctional\n\t\t\tfacility at Ryker's Island.\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe sees the activity in the jar\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tUh-oh, she's twitchin'.\n\n<b>THE BENCH\n</b>\nThe Judge continues\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tAnd on a more personal note, let me go on\n\t\t\trecord as saying that there is no place in\n\t\t\tdecent society for fakes, charlatans and\n\t\t\ttricksters like you who prey on the\n\t\t\tgullibility of innocent people.  You're\n\t\t\tbeneath the contempt of this court.  And\n\t\t\tbelieve me, if my hands were not tied by the\n\t\t\tunalterable fetters of the law, a law which\n\t\t\thas become in my view far too permissive and\n\t\t\tinadequate in it's standards of punishment,\n\t\t\tI would invoke the tradition of our\n\t\t\tillustrious forebearers, reach back to a\n\t\t\tsterner, purer justice and have you burned\n\t\t\tat the stake!\n\nHe hammers the bench with his gravel as the gallery erupts noisily.  Then\nhe feels a LOW RUMBLING TREMOR in the courtroom.\n\n<b>SPECIMEN JAR\n</b>\nThe slime starts to pulse and swell, pushing up the lid on the jar.\n\n<b>DEFENSE TABLE\n</b>\nStantz anticipates big trouble.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tUnder the table, boys!\n\nThe Ghostbusters duck under the defense table.\n\n<b>LOUIS\n</b>\nHe stands up and looks around fearfully.\n\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - GHOST BATTLE - DAY\n</b>\nEverybody is silent now as the rumbling increases.  All eyes turn to the\nexhibit table.  Then suddenly all Hell breaks loose as TWO FULL-TORSO\nAPPARITIONS explode out of the specimen jar.\n\n<b>JUDGE\n</b>\nHe looks up in terror at the two huge apparitions looming above him and\nrecognizes them immediately.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (in horror)\n\t\t\tOh, my God!  The Scoleri Brothers!\n\n<b>SCOLERI BROTHERS\n</b>\nBig in life, even bigger in death, the ghostly Scoleri brothers seem ten\nfeet tall.  They are strapped into electric chairs and on their heads are\nmetal electrocution caps with live, sparking electrical wires still\nattached.  Twenty-five hundred volts of electricity shoot through their\nbodies as they start to break free of the leather restraints, trying to\nget at the Judge.\n\n<b>JUDGE\n</b>\nHolding his gavel like a pitiful weapon, he crawls over to the defense\ntable where Venkman, Stantz and Spengler are now crouched, assessing the\nspectral intruders.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (terrified)\n\t\t\tYou've got to do something!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWho are they?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tThey're the Scoleri Brothers.  I tried them\n\t\t\tfor murder.  They were electrocuted up at\n\t\t\tOssining in '48.  Now they want to kill me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tMaybe they just want to appeal.\n\n<b>SCOLERI BROTHERS\n</b>\nThey break loose from the electric chairs, then turn toward the defense\ntable and BLAST it with HIGH-VOLTAGE FINGER-LIGHTNING.\n\n<b>PROSECUTOR\n</b>\nShe sprints for the door, pursued by one of the Scoleri brothers.\n\n<b>GHOSTBUSTERS\n</b>\nThey jump to safety behind the rail of the jury box, pulling the Judge\nwith them.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThese boys aren't playing around.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (desperately)\n\t\t\tYou've got to stop them.  Please!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (thinking like a lawyer)\n\t\t\tViolating a judicial restraining order could\n\t\t\texpose my clients to serious criminal\n\t\t\tpenalties.  As their attorney I'd have to\n\t\t\tadvise them against it.\n\n<b>SCOLERI BROTHERS\n</b>\nThey start punching through the jury box.\n\n<b>JUDGE\n</b>\nHe is just about hysterical with fear.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tAll right!  All right!  I'm recinding the\n\t\t\torder.  Case dismissed!!\n\t\t\t\t (he pounds his gavel on\n\t\t\t\t the floor)\n\t\t\tNow do something!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tLet's go to work, boys.\n\nWith that, the Ghostbusters leap over the rail of the jury box and dash\nacross the courtroom to the exhibit table where their proton packs were\nbeing displayed as evidence.  They strap them on hastily as the Brothers\ncontinue tearing up the seats looing for the Judge.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (slinging the pack onto\n\t\t\t\t his back)\n\t\t\tGeez, I forgot how heavy these things are.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (grabbing other gear)\n\t\t\tOkay, let's heat 'em up!\n\nThey flip the power switches on their packs and draw their particle\nthrowers.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tAll right, throwers.  Set for full neutronas\n\t\t\ton stream.\n\nThey switch on their throwers and turn to face the raging phantasms.\n\n<b>SCOLERI BROTHERS\n</b>\nThey are just about to wipe out the Judge when a loud shout distracts\nthem.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHey!  Why don't you pick on someone your own\n\t\t\tsize?\n\nThe towering ghosts turn in a fury and raise their arms, ready to shoot\nlightning at their new adversaries.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the others)\n\t\t\tOn my signal, boys.  Open 'em up -- Now!\n\nThey all pull their triggers and the wands EXPLODE with incredible\npowerful STREAMS OF ENERGY, doing even more damage to the courtroom.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSpengs, take the door.  Ray, let's try and\n\t\t\twork them down and into the corner.\n\nWorking as a team, they gradually confine the Scoleri Brothers with the\nstreams, forcing them closer and closer to the traps Ray has set out on\nthe floor.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWatch it!  I'm coming under you, Pete.\n\nThey circle around the two ghosts, prodding them with the streams while\nducking the lightning bolts shooting from their fingers.  Finally, Ray\nsees his chance and pops open the traps which emit inverted pyramids of\nlight energy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tSteady -- watch your streams -- easy now --\n\t\t\tVenky, bring him left -- Spengy, pull him\n\t\t\tdown -- trapping -- trapping -- now!\n\nHe stomps on a control pedal and the Scoleri Brothers are drawn into the\ntraps which snap shut.\n\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - TRAPS - DAY\n</b>\nLEDs on the outer casing start flashing, indicating the presence of a\nghost inside each trap.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (checking the trap)\n\t\t\tOccupado.\n\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - JUDGE - DAY (AFTER GHOST BATTLE)\n</b>\nHe sticks his head up slowly from behind the debris of his bench and\nlooks around in total amazement.\n\n<b>LOUIS\n</b>\nHe crawls out from under a chair.  Reporters and spectators get back on\ntheir feet and start buzzing about the incredible manifestation.\n\n<b>PROSECUTOR\n</b>\nShe's lying on the floor, attended to by the Bailiff and the Court Clerk.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Prosecutor)\n\t\t\tBrilliant summation.\n\n<b>GHOSTBUSTERS\n</b>\nThey break into big smiles as photographers start snapping pictures of\nthem standing in the wrecked courtroom.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tCase closed, boys.  We're back in business.\n\nThe spectators cheer and applaud.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  FIREHOUSE - DAY\n</b>\nThe old, dilapidated Ghostbusters logo comes crashing to the ground,\ndropped by a pair of workmen on a ladder, and the new logo is hoisted\ninto place over the main entrance.  It's just like the original \"No\nGhosts\" logo, but in the new one the ghost in the red circle is holding\nup two fingers.  Venkman enters the firehouse.\n\n<b>INT.  BEDROOM SET (TV COMMERCIAL - FULL SCREEN VIDEO) - NIGHT\n</b>\nA man and his wife are lying in bed reading.  The man is played by Louis\nTully and JANINE MELNITZ, the Ghostbusters' once and future receptionist,\nis playing his wife.  They are both terrible actors.  Suddenly, a ghost,\nactually a very bad puppet on a wire, floats through the bedroom.  Janine\nsees it and screams.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tWhat is it, honey?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tIt's that darn ghost again!  I don't know\n\t\t\twhat to do anymore.  He just won't leave us\n\t\t\talone.  I guess we'll just have to move.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tDon't worry.  We're not moving.  He is.\n\nHe picks up the phone.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tWho are you going to call?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with a wink)\n\t\t\tGhostbusters.\n\nAs he starts to dial, the CAMERA PULLS BACK to reveal the Ghostbusters\nstanding in the bedroom.  Their acting isn't much better than Louis and\nJanine's.\n\n<b>GHOSTBUSTERS\n</b>\nStantz speaks directly TO the CAMERA.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI'm Ray --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm Peter --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI'm Egon --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tAnd we're the ...\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tALL\n</b>\t\t\t\t (together)\n\t\t\tGhostbusters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThat's right -- Ghostbusters.  We're back\n\t\t\tand we're better than ever with twice the\n\t\t\tknow-how and twice the particle-power to\n\t\t\tdeal with all your supernatural elimination\n\t\t\tneeds.\n\nDuring his speech, Winston can be seen in the b.g. pretending to trap the\nfake ghost.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tCareful, Winston.  He's a mean one.\n<b>\t\t\t\t (TO CAMERA)\n</b>\t\t\tAnd to celebrate our grand reopening, we're\n\t\t\tgiving you twice the value with our special\n\t\t\thalf-price 'Welcome Back' service plan.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHold on, Ray!  Half-price!  Have you gone\n\t\t\tcrazy?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI guess so, Pete, because that's not all.\n\t\t\tTell them what else we've got, Egon.\n\nSpengler actually mouths everyone else's dialogue along with them,\nwaiting for his cue.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tYou mean the Ghostbusters hot beverage\n\t\t\tthermal mugs and free balloons for the kids?\n\nHe holds up a mug and a limp, uninflated balloon.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou bet.\n\nAs Stantz wraps it up, SUPERS APPEAR at the bottom of the SCREEN: FULLY\n<b>BONDED - FULLY LICENSED - SE HABLA ESPANOL.\n</b>\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b><b>\t\t\t\t (TO CAMERA)\n</b>\t\t\tSo don't wait another minute.  Make your\n\t\t\tsupernatural problem our supernatural problem.\n\t\t\tCall now, because we're still --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tALL\n</b>\t\t\t\t (in unison, mechanically)\n\t\t\t-- Ready to believe you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  JACK HARDEMEYER'S OFFICE - DAY\n</b>\nHardemeyer is watching the Ghostbusters commercial on a TV in his office.\nHe bangs his fist on his desk and angrily switches OFF the TV.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  FIREHOUSE - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThe garage door opens and the new improved ECTOMOBILE comes ROARING out\nonto the street, its ghostly SIREN MOANING and WAILING.  Louis comes\nrunning out after it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - DAY\n</b>\nLouis comes back into the garage bay and stops as he smells a foul odor.\nHe sniffs around, following the smell.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh, geez, smells like somebody took a really\n\t\t\tbig --\n\nHe freezes.\n\n<b>INT. OFFICE AREA - LOUIS'S POV\n</b>\nSlimer, a spud-like green ghost, is hovering over Louis's desk, scarfing\ndown Louis's bag lunch.  Slimer looks up and sees Louis.\n\n<b>SLIMER AND LOUIS\n</b>\nThey both scream and run off in opposite directions.\n\n<b>SLIMER\n</b>\nHe passes right through a wall and disappears.\n\n<b>LOUIS\n</b>\nHe runs right into a wall, recovers and exits in a hurry.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (screaming)\n\t\t\tHelp!  There's a thing!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  CENTRAL PARK RESERVOIR - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nRunners of both sexes and all ages are huffing and puffing as they jog\nalong the track that circles the reservoir.  One of the runners looks\nbehind him at the sound of APPROACHING FOOTFALLS and screams.\n\n<b>GHOSTLY JOGGER\n</b>\nA ghost jogger is loping along at a pretty fair pace.  Other runners\nstumble and run screaming into the park as he passes them.  Seemingly\noblivious to the effect he's having, the ghost jogger puts two fingers to\nhis skeletal neck and checks his watch as if taking his pulse.\n\n<b>EXT. CLEARING IN PARK - DAY (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nVenkman is sitting on a park bench near the jogging track reading the\nnewspaper, eating a donut and drinking coffee from a Styrofoam cup.\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe's sitting on a bench opposite Venkman's, casually watching the jogging\ntrack.\n\n<b>GHOST JOGGER\n</b>\nHe approaches the benches where the Ghostbusters are waiting.  As the\nghost jogger passes the benches, Stantz and Venkman simultaneously hit\nconcealed control buttons.  A ghost trap buried in the track throws up a\nglowing inverted pyramid and catches the ghost jogger in mid-stride.\nStantz and Venkman close the trap and capture the ghost jogger.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (checking his watch)\n\t\t\tYou know he ran that last lap in under six\n\t\t\tminutes?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIf he wasn't dead he'd be an Olympic\n\t\t\tprospect.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  JEWELRY STORE - DAY\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters come out carrying smoking traps, wearing cheap\ndime-store Santa Claus hats.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the client)\n\t\t\tMerry Christmas!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  FIFTH AVENUE - ORREFORS GLASS STORE - DAY\n</b>\nThe Ectomobile is parked at the curb and a curious crowd looks on as the\nGhostbusters enter the store.\n\n<b>INT.  ORREFORS GLASS STORE - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n</b>\nAll the precious crystal is floating in the air, several feet above the\nglass shelves and display tables.  Stantz and Venkman are talking to the\nmanager while Winston and Spengler set up an array of electronic devices\npositioned in each corner of the store.\n\nOn a signal from Stantz, Spengler and Winston switch on the devices which\nthrow laser-type beams around the perimeter of the store.  The manager\nwatches in horror as all the GLASSWARE suddenly drops out of the air,\nSMASHES through the GLASS SHELVES and SHATTERS on the display tables.\nThere is a long pregnant pause.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the manager)\n\t\t\tSo will that be cash or a check?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - RESTORATION STUDIO - DAY (LATE AFTERNOON)\n</b>\nEveryone else has gone home.  Dana is cleaning her brushes and putting\nher supplies away.\n\n<b>VIGO PAINTING - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n</b>\nVigo turns his head and watches Dana as she walks past the painting.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe stops, vaguely aware of the movement, and looks up curiously at the\npainting.  As she starts to walk on, Vigo looks at her again, but Dana\nturns suddenly and catches the movement.  Frightened now, she hastily\nleaves the studio.\n\n<b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - DAY\n</b>\nLouis is lurking behind a pillar, peeking out at the office area.  We PAN\nDOWN TO the floor and see a foot pedal, then PAN ALONG the cord TO a\nghost trap sitting on Louis's desk.  Hanging from strings over the desk\nare several pieces of Kentucky fried chicken.\n\n<b>WALL\n</b>\nSlimer partially emerges and furtively sniffs the air, then spots the\nchicken bait.  He licks his lips, materializes completely and flies to\nthe chicken.\n\n<b>LOUIS\n</b>\nHis eyes light up and he stomps the foot pedal.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouts)\n\t\t\tGotcha!\n\n<b>DESK\n</b>\nThe trap pops open and shoots out a powerful cone of energy.  Slimer\ndodges it and escapes as a big section of the ceiling comes crashing down\non Louis's desk.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (seeing the damage)\n\t\t\tUh-oh.\n\nHe slinks off, defeated.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MANHATTAN MUSEUM OF ART - SECURITY DESK - DAY\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters commercial is playing on a portable TV on the security\ndesk.  Rudy, the Security Guard, is reading a National Enquirer with a\ngiant front-page headline: GHOSTBUSTERS SAVE JUDGE.  Venkman enters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm looking for Dana Barrett.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSECURITY GUARD\n</b>\t\t\tRoom 304 -- Restorations.\n\t\t\t\t (recognizing him)\n\t\t\tHey!  Dr. Venkman -- 'World of the Psychic.'\n\t\t\tI'm a big, big fan.  That used to be one of\n\t\t\tmy two favorite shows.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (flattered)\n\t\t\tThanks.  What's the other one?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSECURITY GUARD\n</b>\t\t\t'Bass Masters.'  It's a fishing show.  Ever\n\t\t\tsee it?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, really great.  Take it easy.\n\nHe exits.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - RESTORATION STUDIO - DAY (MOMENTS LATER)\n</b>\nDana is working on a valuable Flemish still-life by Ver Meer.  Janosz is\nat the other end of the room, still working on the painting of Vigo.\nVenkman enters and sneaks up behind Dana.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (looking at the Ver Meer)\n\t\t\tSo this is what you do, huh?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (glad to see him)\n\t\t\tOh, hello, Peter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou're really good, you know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI didn't paint it.  I'm just cleaning it.\n\t\t\tIt's an original Ver Meer.  It's worth about\n\t\t\tten million dollars.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nHe turns his head and watches Venkman and Dana.\n\n<b>VENKMAN\n</b>\nUnaware that he's being watched, Venkman squints at the still life,\nholding up his thumb like he's seen artists do.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou know you can go to Art World and get\n\t\t\tthese huge sofa-size paintings for about\n\t\t\tforty-five bucks.\n\nHe starts looking around at the other artwork in the studio.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI'm sure you didn't come here just to talk\n\t\t\tabout art.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAs a matter of fact, I stopped by to tell\n\t\t\tyou that I haven't forgotten your problem\n\t\t\tand that we're still on the case.\n\nThey are interrupted by the sudden appearance of Janosz.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (smiling at Venkman)\n\t\t\tDana, aren't you going to introduce me to\n\t\t\tyour friend?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tOh, I'm sorry.  This is Peter Venkman.\n\t\t\tPeter, Janosz Poha.\n\nVenkman warily shakes his hand, trying to size him up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (avoiding his gaze)\n\t\t\tPleasure to meet you.  I've seen you on\n\t\t\ttelevision.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHow are you?\n\t\t\t\t (looking over at the Vigo\n\t\t\t\t painting)\n\t\t\tWhat's that you're working on, Johnny?\n\nJanosz winces at the nickname but lets it go.  Venkman and Dana cross to\nthe Vigo painting.  Janosz steps protectively in front of it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt's a painting I'm restoring for the new\n\t\t\tByzantine exhibition.  It's a self-portrait\n\t\t\tof Prince Vigo, the Carpathian.  He ruled\n\t\t\tmost of Carpathia and Moldavia in the 17th\n\t\t\tCentury.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (staring at the painting)\n\t\t\tToo bad for the Moldavians.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (defensive)\n\n\t\t\tHe was a very powerful magician.  A genius\n\t\t\tin many ways and quite a skilled painter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHe was also a lunatic and a genocidal madman.\n\t\t\tI hate this painting.  I've felt very\n\t\t\tuncomfortable since they brought it up from\n\t\t\tstorage.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, it's not the kind of thing you'd want\n\t\t\tto hang in the rec room.  You know what it\n\t\t\tneeds?\n\t\t\t\t (picking up a brush)\n\t\t\tA fluffy little white kitten in the corner.\n\nVenkman reaches toward the painting, but Janosz grabs his hand.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with forced good will)\n\t\t\tWe don't go around altering valuable\n\t\t\tpaintings, Dr. Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWell, I'd make an exception in this case if\n\t\t\tI were you.\n\nDana looks disapprovingly at Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Janosz)\n\t\t\tI'll let you get back to it.  Nice meeting\n\t\t\tyou.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tMy pleasure.\n\nVenkman and Dana cross back to her workspace.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (confidentially)\n\t\t\tI may be wrong, but I think you've got a\n\t\t\tlittle crush on this guy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tGood-bye, Peter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (dragging his feet)\n\t\t\tI'd like to stay, but I really don't have\n\t\t\ttime to hang around here.  I'll call you.\n\t\t\t\t (calls out to Janosz)\n\t\t\tLater, Johnny!\n\nHe exits.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nVigo turns his head and follows Dana as she returns to her workbench.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe stops, vaguely aware of the movement, and looks up curiously at the\npainting.  As she starts to walk on, Vigo looks at her again, but Dana\nturns suddenly and catches the movement.  Frightened now, she hastily\nleaves the studio.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - LIVING QUARTERS - CONTINUOUS ACTION - DAY\n</b>\nVenkman and Winston enter and find Stantz and Spengler at work in the lab\narea.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOh good, you're here.  Spengler and I have\n\t\t\tsomething really amazing to show you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Spengler)\n\t\t\tIt's not that thing you do with your\n\t\t\tnostrils, is it?\n\nStantz goes to the refrigerator, opens the freezer, rummages around among\nthe TV dinners and frozen pizza and pulls out a slime specimen in a\nTupperware container.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Venkman)\n\t\t\tWe've been studying the stuff that we took\n\t\t\tfrom the subway tunnel.\n\nHe pops the specimen jar in the microwave and lets it thaw for a minute.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAnd now you're going to eat it?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I'm just restoring it to its normal state.\n\nHe takes the specimen out of the microwave and pours some of it into a\nlarge Petri dish.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNow watch this.\n\nHe leans over the specimen and starts shouting at it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (simulating anger)\n\t\t\tYou worthless piece of slime!!\n\t\t\t\t (as the slime starts to\n\t\t\t\t twitch and glow)\n\t\t\tYou ignorant disgusting blob!!\n\n<b>SPECIMEN\n</b>\nIt bubbles and swells, changing color with each insult.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou foul, obnoxious muck!!\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe continues venting his rage on the slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI've seen some real crud in my time, but\n\t\t\tyou're a chemical disgrace!!\n\nThe specimen doubles its size and starts spilling over the rim of the\nPetri dish.\n\n<b>STANTZ AND SPENGLER\n</b>\nThey turn to Venkman for his reaction.  He's dumbfounded.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThis is what you do with your spare time?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (very excited)\n\t\t\tThis is an incredible breakthrough, Venkman.\n\t\t\tA psychoreactive substance!  Whatever this\n\t\t\tis, it clearly responds to human emotional\n\t\t\tstates.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t'Mood slime.'  We ought to bottle this stuff\n\t\t\tand sell it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWe've found it at every event site we've\n\t\t\tbeen to lately.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (poking at the slime)\n\t\t\tYou mean this stuff actually feeds on 'bad\n\t\t\tvibes'?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tLike a goat on garbage.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWe're running tests to see if we can get an\n\t\t\tequally strong positive reaction.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat kind of tests?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (a little embarrassed)\n\t\t\tWell, we sing to it, we talk to it, we say\n\t\t\tsupportive, nurturing things --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou're not sleeping with this stuff, are you?\n\nSpengler reacts as if he might be.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt really responds to music.\n\t\t\t\t (to Spengler)\n\t\t\tLet's calm it down.\n\nSpengler picks up a guitar and he and Stantz start singing \"Cumbaya\" to\nthe slime specimen.\n\n<b>SPECIMEN\n</b>\nIt stops bubbling and starts to shrink.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tDoes it have any favorites?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt likes all the sappy stuff: 'Cumbaya,'\n\t\t\t'Everything is Beautiful,' 'It's a Small\n\t\t\tWorld' -- but it loves Jackie Wilson.\n\nVenkman and Winston watch intently as Spengler spoons some of the\npsych-reactive slime onto an old toaster.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWatch this.\n\nStantz turns on a CASSETTE PLAYER and Jackie Wilson's \"HIGHER AND HIGHER\"\nBLASTS from the speakers.\n\n<b>TOASTER\n</b>\nIt shakes, spins and actually starts moving in time with the MUSIC.\n\n<b>VENKMAN\n</b>\nHe stares in disbelief at the dancing toaster as it shoots two pieces of\ntoast into the air and catches them without missing a beat.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI don't care what you say.  This could be a\n\t\t\tmajor Christmas gift item.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tRight, and the first time someone gets mad,\n\t\t\ttheir toaster will eat their hand.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo we'll put a warning on the label.\n\nStantz turns OFF the MUSIC and the toaster stops moving.  Venkman looks\nat the toaster and sticks his fingers in the slot.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the toaster)\n\t\t\tGo ahead.  I dare you.\n\nSuddenly, he yelps as if the toaster has actually bitten into his hand\nand won't let go.  The others jump in to help him, but Venkman laughs and\neasily withdraws his hand.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tJust kidding.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  DANA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT\n</b>\nDana brings Oscar into the bathroom and lays him on the bassinet.  She's\nwearing a robe over her nightgown, preparing to bathe the baby.  She\nturns the taps on the old claw-footed bathtub, checks the water\ntemperature, then turns away and starts to undress the baby.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (talking sweetly to the\n\t\t\t\t baby)\n\t\t\tLook at you.  I think we got more food on\n\t\t\tyour shirt than we got in your mouth.\n\n<b>BATHTUB\n</b>\nThe water pouring from the faucet changes to slime and settles at the\nbottom of the tub.  Dana reaches over and turns off the water without\nlooking into the tub.  When she turns away, both taps start to spin by\nthemselves and the tub flexes and bulges.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nStill unaware, she routinely reaches over and squirts some bubble bath\ninto the tub.\n\n<b>BATHTUB\n</b>\nThe rim of the tub puckers up and the sides convulse as if swallowing the\nbubble bath.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>She picks the baby up off the bassinet and turns to place him in the tub.\nShe is just about to lower him into the water when the tub starts to\nclose up around the baby like a hugh mouth.  Dana screams, snatches the\nbaby away and runs from the room clutching Oscar to her bosom as the\nbathtub convulses and vomits up buckets of slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - SAME NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nThe big open loft space is a chaotic clutter of mismatched furniture, old\nmagazines, books, tapes, and sports equipment.  Venkman is asleep on the\nfloor, still wearing his coat, scarf, hat and gloves, having collapsed\njust short of the bedroom.  The DOORBELL RINGS, he wakes up, lumbers to\nhis feet and answers it.  He opens the door and sees Dana standing there.\nShe is wearing only a nightgown under her coat and Oscar is naked,\nwrapped in a baby blanket.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (somewhat embarrassed to\n\t\t\t\t be there)\n\t\t\tI'm sorry.  Were you on your way out?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (surprised to see her)\n\t\t\tNo, I just got in -- a couple hours ago.\n\t\t\tCome on in.\n\t\t\t\t (noting her apparel)\n\t\t\tAre we having a pajama party?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (upset)\n\t\t\tPeter, the bathtub tried to eat Oscar.\n\nVenkman looks at her for a long moment.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou know, if anyone else told me that, I'd\n\t\t\thave serious doubts.  But coming from you,\n\t\t\tI can't honestly say I'm surprised.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI must be losing my mind.  At the museum\n\t\t\ttoday I could have sworn that terrible\n\t\t\tpainting of Vigo looked right at me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWho could blame him?  Were you wearing this\n\t\t\tnightgown?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (distraught)\n\t\t\tI don't know what to do anymore.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'll get Ray and Egon to check out the\n\t\t\tbathtub.  You better stay here.\n\nHe exits to the bathroom.  She looks around the loft, amazed at the\ndisorder.  Venkman comes back immediately with an old sweatshirt and\ntakes Oscar from her.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNow this kid has a serious nudity problem.\n\nHe spreads the sweatshirt out on the sofa, lays the baby on it and starts\ntying it around him like a diaper.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the baby)\n\t\t\tThis is Joe Namath's old number, you know.\n\t\t\tYou could get a lot of chicks with this.\n\t\t\tJust don't pee in it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tPeter, what about the bathtub?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (grabs the phone and dials)\n\t\t\tWe'll take care of that.\n\t\t\t\t (on the phone)\n\t\t\tRay, Pete.  Listen, get over to Dana's right\n\t\t\taway ... Her bathtub pulled a fast one --\n\t\t\ttried to eat the kid.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tIt was full of this awful pink ooze.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Ray)\n\t\t\tSounds like another slime job ... No,\n\t\t\tthey're all right.  They're here now ...\n\t\t\tRight ... Let me know.\n\nHe hangs up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThey're going over there right now.  You\n\t\t\tmight as well make yourself at home.  Let\n\t\t\tme show you around.\n\t\t\t\t (he crosses to the kitchen area)\n\t\t\tThis is the cuisine de maison --\n\nIt's an incredible mess. The sink is piled high with dirty dishes and the\ncounters are littered with all sorts of food trash.  He grabs a big open\nHefty bag on the floor and starts throwing garbage into it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (looking at the sink)\n\t\t\tWe may have to wash some of these if you get\n\t\t\thungry --\n\t\t\t\t (he looks in the fridge)\n\t\t\t-- but there's no food anyway so forget\n\t\t\tabout it.  I have all kinds of carry-out\n\t\t\tmenus if you feel like ordering.\n\nHe opens a drawer full of pizza, barbecue and Chinese food menus, then\ncrosses to the bathroom.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tBathroom's right here -- let me just tidy\n\t\t\tup a few things.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tPeter, this is very nice, but you don't have\n\t\t\tto do any of this, you know.\n\nHe goes into the bathroom and we hear WATER RUNNING, the TOILET FLUSHING\nand more items going into the Hefty bag.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\tThe shower works but it's a little tricky.\n\t\t\tThey're both marked \"Hot.\"  It takes a little\n\t\t\tpractice, but at least this one won't try\n\t\t\tand eat you.\n\nHe comes out of the bathroom with the now-loaded Hefty bag over his\nshoulder.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tBe careful on that sofa -- it's a butt-biter.\n\t\t\tBut the bed's good and I just changed the\n\t\t\tsheets so if you get tired, feel free.  In\n\t\t\tfact, I think you should definitely plan on\n\t\t\tspending the night here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tReally?  And how would we handle the sleeping\n\t\t\tarrangements?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tFor me it's best if I sleep on my side and\n\t\t\tyou spoon up right behind me with your arms\n\t\t\taround me.  If we go the other way I'm\n\t\t\tafraid your hair will be getting in my face\n\t\t\tall night.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHow about you on the sofa and me in bed with\n\t\t\tthe baby.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOr we could do that.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThank you.\n\t\t\t\t (she picks up Oscar)\n\t\t\tPoor baby.  I think I should put him down\n\t\t\tnow.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'll put him down for you.\n\t\t\t\t (taking the baby)\n\t\t\tYou are way too short!  And your belly-button\n\t\t\tsticks out!  You're nothing but a burden to\n\t\t\tyour poor mother!\n\nVenkman carries the baby into the bedroom leaving Dana in the living\nroom, feeling more relaxed and a lot safer.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM - DAY (NEXT MORNING)\n</b>\nVenkman is waiting in front of the building as ECTO-2 pulls up and\nStantz, Spengler and Winston get out and report on Dana's apartment.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDid you find anything at Dana's?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNothing.  Just some mood-slime residue in\n\t\t\tand around the bathtub.  But we did turn up\n\t\t\tsome interesting stuff on this Vigo character\n\t\t\tyou mentioned.  I found the name Vigo the\n\t\t\tCarpathian in Leon Zundinger's Magicians,\n\t\t\tMartyrs and Madmen.  Listen to this:\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reads from xerox of entry)\n\t\t\t\"Vigo the Carpathian, born 1505, died 1610 --\"\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tA hundred and five years?  He really hung\n\t\t\ton, didn't he.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tAnd he didn't die of old age either.  He was\n\t\t\tpoisoned, stabbed, shot, hung, stretched,\n\t\t\tdisemboweled, drawn and quartered.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tI guess he wasn't too popular at the end\n\t\t\tthere.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tNo, not exactly a man of the people.\n\t\t\t\t (reads)\n\t\t\t\"Also known as Vigo the Cruel, Vigo the\n\t\t\tTorturer, Vigo the Despised, and Vigo the\n\t\t\tUnholy.\"\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThis guy was a bad monkey.  He dabbled in\n\t\t\tall the Black Arts, and listen to this\n\t\t\tprophecy.  Just before his head died, his\n\t\t\tlast words were, \"Death is but a door, time\n\t\t\tis but a window.  I'll be back.\"\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThat's it?  \"I'll be back?\"\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tIt's a rough translation from the Moldavian.\n\nThey enter the museum carrying their monitoring equipment.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - SECURITY DESK - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nRudy the guard looks up in surprise as the Ghostbusters enter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tRUDY\n</b>\t\t\tHey, Dr. Venkman.  What's going on?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWe're just going up to Restorations for a\n\t\t\tminute.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tRUDY\n</b>\t\t\tOh, I can't let you do that.  Mr. Poha told\n\t\t\tme not to let you up there anymore.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with mock seriousness)\n\t\t\tOkay, we were trying to keep this quiet but\n\t\t\tI think you can be trusted.  Tell him, Ray.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (very official)\n\t\t\tMister, you have an Ecto-paritic,\n\t\t\tsubfusionary flux in this building.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tRUDY\n</b>\t\t\tWe got a flux?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tYou got a flux and a half.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNow if you don't want to be the --\n\t\t\t\t (he counts)\n\t\t\t-- fifth person ever to die in meta-shock\n\t\t\tfrom a planar rift, I suggest you get down\n\t\t\tbehind that desk and don't move until we\n\t\t\tgive you the signal \"Stabilize -- All Clear.\"\n\nRudy gulps and starts to hunker down behind the desk as the Ghostbusters\nhead upstairs.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - RESTORATION STUDIO - DAY (MOMENTS LATER)\n</b>\nJanosz is working on the Vigo painting when the Ghostbusters enter.  He\nrushes over and stops them at the door.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tDr. Venkman?  Dana is not here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tThen why have you come?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWe got a major creep alert and we're just\n\t\t\tgoing down the list.  Your name was first.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Spengler and Winston)\n\t\t\tLet's sweep it, boys.\n\nThey deploy and start scanning the studio with their monitoring devices.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Janosz)\n\t\t\tYou know, I never got to ask you.  Where you\n\t\t\tfrom, Johnny?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (nervous)\n\t\t\tThe Upper West Side.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (consulting his PKE meter)\n\t\t\tThis entire room is extremely hot, Peter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tWhat exactly are you looking for, Dr. Venkman?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWe'll know when we find it.  You just sit\n\t\t\ttight.  This won't take long.\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nUsing the Giga-meter, he traces a strong psychomagnetheric reading to\nthe painting of Vigo in the alcove at the end of the studio.  Venkman\ncomes up behind him with Janosz right on his heels.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThis is the one that looked at Dana.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt must be the chemical fumes in the studio.\n\t\t\tPeople start imagining things --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (interrupts)\n\t\t\tI'm going to rule out the glue-sniffing\n\t\t\ttheory.  If she says it looked at her, it\n\t\t\tlooked at her.\n\t\t\t\t (to Vigo)\n\t\t\tHey, you!  Vigie!  Look at me.  I'm talking\n\t\t\tto you.  Hey!  Look at me when I'm talking\n\t\t\tto you.\n\nThey watch the painting for any sign of movement.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nHis eyes stare lifelessly into the distance.\n\n<b>STANTZ AND VENKMAN\n</b>\nVenkman starts shooting Polaroids of Vigo.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Vigo)\n\t\t\tBeautiful, beautiful.  Work with me, baby.\n\t\t\tJust have fun with it.\n\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tOkay, he's playing it cool.  Let's finish\n\t\t\tup and get out of here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI'll get one more reading.\n\nVenkman walks off leaving Stantz alone with the painting.  Stantz scans\nthe painting with the Giga-meter until his eyes meet Vigo's.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nHis eyes seems to burn right through to the depths of Stantz's soul.\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe stands there transfixed, unable to look away, as a strange and subtle\ntransformation occurs within him.  Winston comes up behind him and breaks\nthe spell.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (looking at the painting)\n\t\t\tNow that's one ugly dude.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (coming back to his senses)\n\t\t\tHuh?  What?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tYou finished here?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (distracted)\n\t\t\tWhat?  Yeah.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tAre you all right?  You coming down with\n\t\t\tsomething?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I'm fine.  I just got light-headed for\n\t\t\ta second there.  Let's go.\n\nThey head for the door.\n\n<b>JANOSZ\n</b>\nHe escorts the Ghostbusters to the door.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tSo you see, everything is in order, is it\n\t\t\tnot?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNot.  Don't leave town and report any change\n\t\t\tin your address to the proper authorities.\n\t\t\tWe'll be back.\n\nThey exit.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters cross to ECTO-2.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tThere's definitely something going on in\n\t\t\tthat studio.  The PKE levels were max-plus\n\t\t\tand the Giga-meter was showing all red.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tI'd put my money on that Vigo character.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, that's a safe bet.\n\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tYou and Spengman see what else you can dig\n\t\t\tup on Vigo and this little weasel Poha.\n\t\t\tThose two were made for each other.\n\n<b>INT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters are driving back to the firehouse.  Stantz is at the\nwheel.  His eyes are vacant, he seems distracted and very tense.  Stantz\nswerves suddenly and HONKS the horn angrily.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to another driver)\n\t\t\tIdiot!\n\t\t\t\t (honking)\n\t\t\tMove it, you jerk!\n\nVenkman and Winston exchange surprised looks.\n\n<b>EXT.  STREET - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nStantz drives extremely fast, HONKING vindictively, weaving dangerously\nthrough traffic.\n\n<b>INT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nWinston looks at Ray, concerned.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tGoing a little fast, aren't we, Ray?\n\nStantz turns on him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (viciously)\n\t\t\tAre you telling me how to drive?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I just thought --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWell don't think!\n\nHe HONKS again and tromps hard on the accelerator.\n\n<b>EXT.  STREET - DAY (CONTINUOUS)\n</b>\nEcto-2 is now barreling down the avenue.  Pedestrians leap to safety as\nStantz runs a red light.\n\n<b>INT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThey hang on to the safety straps as Stantz continues his maniacal ride.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Stantz, really worried\n\t\t\t\t now)\n\t\t\tAre you crazy, man?  You're going to kill\n\t\t\tsomebody!\n\nStantz looks at him and smile demonically.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I'm going to kill everybody!\n\nHe swerves off the road.\n\n<b>EXT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe car heads right for a big tree.\n\n<b>INT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nAt the last possible moment, Winston cold-cocks Stantz, grabs the wheel\nand steps across to stomp on the brakes.\n\n<b>EXT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe car skids into the tree and stops.  The Ghostbusters stumble out\ndazed and shaken, but unhurt.  Stantz rubs his eyes and looks at the\nothers, completely at a loss.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (himself again)\n\t\t\tWhat happened?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou just picked up three penalty points on\n\t\t\tyour driver's license.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tAre you all right?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, I guess so.  It was the strangest\n\t\t\tthing.  I knew what I was doing but I\n\t\t\tcouldn't stop.  This really terrible feeling\n\t\t\tcame over me and -- I don't know -- I just\n\t\t\tfelt like driving into that tree and ending\n\t\t\tit all.  Whew!  Sorry, boys.\n\nThey inspect the damage to the car.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (confidentially, to\n\t\t\t\t Spengler)\n\t\t\tWatch him, Egon.  Don't even let him shave.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThere's a KNOCK at the front door, a key turns in the lock, and Venkman\nenters somewhat tentatively holding a bouquet of flowers and a small\nsuitcase of Dana's.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (calls out)\n\t\t\tI'm home!\n\nHe looks around the large open loft.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to himself)\n\t\t\tI knew it.  She cleaned.\n\nHe hears the SHOWER RUNNING and crosses to the bathroom.  The door is\nhalf-open and he can see Dana in the shower (tastefully blurred) through\nthe transparent vinyl curtain.  He closes the bathroom door and looks at\nthe baby asleep on the bed, surrounded by pillows to prevent him rolling\noff.  Then he turns and bumps into Dana who's just coming out of the\nbathroom wrapped in a towel.  She jumps back into the bathroom.\n\nShe comes out again, this time wearing a robe.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAre you all squeaky clean now?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (humoring him)\n\t\t\tYes, I'm very clean.  Did they find anything\n\t\t\tat my apartment?\n\nShe squeezes past him into the bedroom and closes the door.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (through the door)\n\t\t\tNothing.  They stayed there all night, went\n\t\t\tthrough your personal stuff, made a bunch of\n\t\t\tlong-distance phone calls and cleaned out\n\t\t\tyour refrigerator.  And didn't find anything.\n\nDana opens the bedroom door.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThey didn't find anything?  In the bathtub\n\t\t\t... the pink ooze ... nothing?  So, what do\n\t\t\tI do now?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNow you get dressed and we go out.  I got a\n\t\t\tbabysitter and everything.  Trust me, you\n\t\t\tneed it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI'm not here to date.  I can't leave Oscar\n\t\t\tin a strange place with someone I don't know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tIt's Janine Melnitz, from my staff.  She's\n\t\t\tone of my most valuable employees.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tDoes she know anything about babies?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tJanine Melnitz, are you kidding?\n\t\t\t\t (handing her the flowers)\n\t\t\tDo I have a vase?  I brought some of your\n\t\t\tclothes.  Wear something intriguing.  I\n\t\t\tbrought along some interesting possibilities.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, but it's not a date.  It's a dinner.\n\nShe smiles and closes the door again.  He opens the closet and starts\nlooking for his good suit.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDid you happen to see some shirts on the\n\t\t\tfloor in here?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\tI put them in your hamper.  I thought they\n\t\t\twere dirty.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shaking his head)\n\t\t\tI have a hamper?  Next time ask me first,\n\t\t\tokay.  I have more than two grades of\n\t\t\tlaundry.  There're lots of subtle levels\n\t\t\tbetween clean and dirty.\n\nHe pulls some clothes out of the hamper and inspects them.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThese aren't so bad yet.  You just hang them\n\t\t\tup for a while and they're fine.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b><b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - RECEPTION AREA - EARLY EVENING\n</b>\nJanine covers her computer terminal and starts turning out the lights.\nThen she notices that the lights are still on upstairs.  She starts\nprimping and freshening up her makeup.\n\n<b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - LAB AREA - SAME TIME\n</b>\nLouis is strapping on a proton pack, preparing to deal with Slimer once\nand for all.  He's wearing a bicyclist's rearview mirror on a headband.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to himself)\n\t\t\tOkay, Stinky, this is it.  Showdown time.\n\t\t\tYou and me, pal.  You think you're smarter\n\t\t\tthan I am?  We'll see about that.\n\t\t\t\t (loud)\n\t\t\tOh, hello, Pizza Man!  Oh, two larges!  I\n\t\t\tonly ordered one.  Oh, pepperoni and\n\t\t\tpineapple.  My absolute favorite.  I guess\n\t\t\tI'll have to eat these both by myself.\n\n<b>THE CEILING\n</b>\nSlimer pokes his head through the ceiling and scans the room hanging\nupside down.\n\n<b>LOUIS\n</b>\nHe spots Slimer through the rearview mirror.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (quietly)\n\t\t\tOkay, let's boogie!\n\nHe whirls around and fires a proton stream at Slimer, slicing a burning a\ngash across the ceiling.\n\n<b>THE STAIRS\n</b>\nJanine comes up and ducks as a bolt of energy streaks across the room and\nstrikes the wall behind her.  Slimer disappears.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (embarrassed and apologetic)\n\t\t\tOh migod!  I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to do\n\t\t\tthat.  It was an accident.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tWhat are you doing up here?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI was trying to get that smelly green thing.\n\t\t\tThe guys asked me to help out.  I'm like the\n\t\t\tfifth Ghostbuster.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tWhy would you want to be a Ghostbuster if\n\t\t\tyou're already an accountant?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh, no, it's just if one of the guys calls\n\t\t\tin sick or gets hurt.\n\nLouis quickly slips off the proton pack and sets it down.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tHave you made any plans yet?  You know\n\t\t\ttomorrow is New Year's Eve.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I celebrate at the beginning of my\n\t\t\tcorporate tax year which is March first.\n\t\t\tThat way I beat the crowds.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tThat's very practical.  I hate going out on\n\t\t\tNew Year's Eve, too.\n\nThere is an awkward silence between them and Janine starts to leave.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tWell, good night, Louis.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on an impulse)\n\t\t\tJanine, do you feel like maybe getting\n\t\t\tsomething to eat on the way home?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tI'd like to, but I told Dr. Venkman I'd\n\t\t\tbabysit.\n\t\t\t\t (seductively)\n\t\t\tDo you want to babysit with me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh, sure, that sounds great.\n\nThey exit.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nThere is a KNOCK at the door and Venkman goes to answer it.  He's dressed\nfor the evening and looking very dapper.\n\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - ENTRANCE HALL - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n</b>\nVenkman opens the door and finds Stantz, Spengler and Winston standing\nthere wearing over-the-hip rubberized waders, firemen's slickers, and\nminers' helmets, carrying tons of sensing devices, meters, collection\njars and photographic equipment.  They look like they're rigged out for a\nmajor spelunking expedition.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (ushering them in)\n\t\t\tDon't tell me, let me guess.  All-you-can-eat\n\t\t\tbarbecue rib night at the Sizzler?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWe're going down into the sewer system to\n\t\t\tsee if we can trace the source of the\n\t\t\tpsycho-reactive slime flow.  We thought you\n\t\t\tmight want to come along.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDarn it!  I wish I'd known you were going.\n\t\t\tI'm stuck with these damn dinner reservations.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tYou know, animals and lower life forms often\n\t\t\tanticipate major disasters.  Given the new\n\t\t\tmagnetheric readings we could see a tremendous\n\t\t\tbreeding surge in the cockroach population.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tRoach breeding?  Sounds better and better.\n\t\t\t\t (calls out)\n\t\t\tDana?  The boys are going down under the\n\t\t\tsewers tonight to look for slime.  Egon\n\t\t\tthinks there might even be some kind of big\n\t\t\troach-breeding surge.  Should we forget about\n\t\t\tdinner and go with them instead?\n\nDana steps into the living room looking very beautiful.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWow.\n\nDana looks curiously at their outfits.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHi.\n\nThey nod and wave back.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Ray and Egon)\n\t\t\tI think we're going to have to pass on the\n\t\t\tsewer trip, boys.  Let me know what you find\n\t\t\tout.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on his exit)\n\t\t\tOkay, but you're missing all the fun.\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nStantz, Spengler and Winston come down the stairs into the station,\nguided by a very old map of the underground city.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThis is it.  Van Horne Station.  Right where\n\t\t\tthe old transit map said it would be.\n\nThey cross to the edge of the platform and look into the river of slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tLet's get a sounding on the depth of that\n\t\t\tflow.\n\nStantz has a long, coiled, graduated cord with a plumb bob on the end of\nit attached to his utility belt.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tStand back.\n\nHe takes the cord in his hand, swings the plumb bob over his head and\ncasts it out into the middle of the flow.  The plumb bob sinks and\nSpengler reads the depth.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tSix feet -- seven -- eight --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThat's it.  It's on the bottom.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tNine feet -- ten --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tIs the line sinking?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tNo, the slime is rising.\n\nStantz looks down and notices the slime rising over the edge of the\nplatform and around his boots.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (alarmed)\n\t\t\tLet's get out of here, boys.\n\nHe starts to pull out the plumb line but it seems to be stuck.\n\nSpengler tries to help, but whatever is pulling on the cord is stronger\nthan all three of them.  As their unseen adversary pulls them closer and\ncloser to the edge, Stantz works desperately to unhook the cord from his\nbelt but finally just unhooks the whole belt.  Spengler lets go in time\nbut Winston doesn't.  He is jerked off his feet and into the slime flow.\nStantz and Spengler look at each other, summon their courage and jump in\nafter him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  ARMAND RESTAURANT - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nDana and Venkman are sitting at a table in an elegant restaurant nibbling\ncaviar and toasting with very expensive champagne.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (very intimate)\n\t\t\tHere's to -- us.\n\nShe sighs and drinks.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo -- are you making any New Year's\n\t\t\tresolutions?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI want to stop getting involved with men who\n\t\t\taren't good for me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDoes that start exactly at midnight tomorrow,\n\t\t\tor could you hold off for a few days maybe?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tFor one night in your life, do you think\n\t\t\tit's possible for us to be completely real?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAll right, you want to be real?  So tell me\n\t\t\twhy did you dump me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tOh, Peter, I didn't dump you.  I just had\n\t\t\tto protect myself.  You really weren't very\n\t\t\tgood for me, you know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm not even good for me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tWhy do you say things like that?  You're so\n\t\t\tmuch better than you know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThank you.  If I had that kind of support\n\t\t\ton a daily basis, I could definitely shape\n\t\t\tup by the turn of the century.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (already feeling the\n\t\t\t\t effects of the champagne)\n\t\t\tSo why don't you give me a jingle in the\n\t\t\tyear 2000?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tLet me jingle you right now.\n\nHe leans over to kiss her.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tMaybe I should call Janine.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDon't worry.  Janine has a very special way\n\t\t\twith children.\n\nThey kiss.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  APARTMENT - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nJanine is on the sofa doing her nails while Louis paces with the baby.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (looking around)\n\t\t\tI can't believe a person could actually live\n\t\t\tlike this.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the baby)\n\t\t\tSo these dwarfs had a limited partnership in\n\t\t\ta small mining operation and then one day a\n\t\t\tbeautiful princess came to live with them.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tIt's really not a bad place.  It just needs\n\t\t\ta woman's touch.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (continuing)\n\t\t\tSo they bartered room and board in exchange\n\t\t\tfor housekeeping services, which was a good\n\t\t\tdeal for all of them because then they didn't\n\t\t\thave to withhold tax and social security,\n\t\t\twhich I'm not saying is right but it's just\n\t\t\ta story, so I guess it's all right.  I can\n\t\t\tfinish this later if you're tired.\n\nLouis goes into the bedroom and puts the baby down.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tYou're really good with children, Louis.  I\n\t\t\tcan tell.\n\t\t\t\t (as he returns)\n\t\t\tWhy don't you come here and sit with me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOkay.\n\nHe sits stiffly beside her on the sofa.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (getting close)\n\t\t\tMotherhood is a very natural instinct for\n\t\t\tme.  I'd like to have a baby myself.\n\t\t\tWouldn't you?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (gulps)\n\t\t\tTonight?\n\n<b>EXT.  STREET - MANHOLE COVER - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nA manhole cover is dislodged and pushed up from below.  It slides away,\nand Winston crawls out of the manhole followed by Stantz and Spengler.\nThey are exhausted and covered with slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (uncharacteristically\n\t\t\t\t angry)\n\t\t\tNice going, Ray!  What were you trying to\n\t\t\tdo -- drown me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (unusually mean)\n\t\t\tLook, Zeddemore, it wasn't my fault you were\n\t\t\ttoo stupid to drop that line.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shoves him)\n\t\t\tYou better watch your mouth, man, or I'll\n\t\t\tpunch your lights out.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOh yeah?  Anytime, anytime.  Just go ahead\n\t\t\tand try it.\n\nSpengler steps between them with unprecedented aggression.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tIf you two are looking for a fight, you got\n\t\t\tone.\n\t\t\t\t (putting up his fists)\n\t\t\tWho wants it first?  Come on, Ray.  Try me,\n\t\t\tsucker.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (squaring off)\n\t\t\tButt out, you pencil-necked geek.  I've had\n\t\t\tit with you.\n\nThey grab each other and start to tussle.  Suddenly Spengler comes to his\nsenses and pulls them apart.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (forcefully)\n\t\t\tStrip!  Right now!  Get out of those clothes!\n\nHe starts yanking off his slicker and waders.  Bewildered, Stantz and\nWinston start doing the same.  Spengler helps pull off their clothes and\nthrows them into the open manhole.  Now wearing only long underwear, they\nseem to return to normal.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tWhat are we doing?  Ray, I was ready to kill\n\t\t\tyou.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tDon't you see?  It's the slime.  That stuff\n\t\t\tis like pure, concentrated evil.\n\nStantz looks around and sees that they are standing right in front of the\nmuseum.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tAnd it's all flowing right to this spot.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  ARMAND RESTAURANT ENTRANCE - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe MAITRE D' looks up in surprise as Stantz, Spengler and Winston enter\nthe restaurant wearing only long underwear.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAITRE D'\n</b>\t\t\t\t (intercepting them)\n\t\t\tCan I help you?\n\nStantz looks around and spots Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThat's all right, I see him.\n\nThey blow right by the Maitre d' who jumps back in horror as they pass.\n\n<b>VENKMAN\n</b>\nHe's just about to pour more champagne when he sees Ray, Egon and Winston\ncoming toward him through the restaurant.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (very excited)\n\t\t\tYou should've been there, Venkman.\n\t\t\tAbsolutely incredible!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, sorry I missed it.\n\t\t\t\t (noting their attire)\n\t\t\tI guess you guys didn't know about the dress\n\t\t\tcode here.  It's really kind of a coat and\n\t\t\ttie place.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt's all over the city, Pete -- well, under\n\t\t\tit actually.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tRivers of the stuff!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tAnd it's all flowing toward the museum.\n\nHe gestures excitedly and a big gob of slime flies across the room and\nlands on a well-dressed diner.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (calls out)\n\t\t\tSorry!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tMaybe we should discuss this somewhere else.\n\nVenkman notes the look of alarm on Dana's face and pulls his colleagues\naside.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (confidentially)\n\t\t\tBoys, listen.  You're scaring the straights.\n\t\t\tLet's save this until tomorrow, okay?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Venkman)\n\t\t\tThis won't wait until tomorrow, Venkman.\n\t\t\tIt's hot and it's ready to pop.\n\n<b>MAITRE D'\n</b>\nHe hurries through the restaurant with two city COPS right behind him and\nmakes straight for Venkman's table.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAITRE D'\n</b>\t\t\tArrest these men.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (recognizing them)\n\t\t\tHey!  It's the Ghostbusters.  You're out of\n\t\t\tuniform, gentlemen\n\nStantz suddenly realizes how ridiculous they look.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (self-conscious)\n\t\t\tUh -- well -- we had a little accident, but\n\t\t\tforget that.  We have to see the mayor as\n\t\t\tsoon as possible.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\tLook, Doc, why don't you just go home.\n\t\t\tYou'll get a good night's sleep and then you\n\t\t\tcan give the mayor a call in the morning.\n\t\t\tCome on.\n\nHe takes Stantz by the arm but Stantz resists.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWe're not going anywhere with you.  I told\n\t\t\tyou we have to see the mayor now.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (grabbing Stantz)\n\t\t\tI'm warning you.  You can come along\n\t\t\tpeaceably or --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (grabs the Cop)\n\t\t\tHey, don't be an idiot.  This is serious.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (angry)\n\t\t\tLook, pal, keep this up and you're going\n\t\t\twith them.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOh, yeah?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (has had enough)\n\t\t\tYeah, let's go.  You're all under arrest.\n\nThe Cop catches Venkman in an armlock and starts walking him out of the\nrestaurant.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tFinish your dessert -- it's already paid\n\t\t\tfor.  I'll call you.\n\nThey all exit, causing a major commotion among the other diners.\n\n<b>EXT.  ARMAND'S RESTAURANT - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe police car is parked right behind Ecto-2.  Spengler stops at the\npolice car and confronts the cops.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tLook, we're not drunk and we're not crazy.\n\t\t\tThis is a matter of vital importance.\n\nVenkman steps in and looks at the policemen's nametags.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\tWhat are you doing?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI just want to get your names right for when\n\t\t\tthe mayor asks us why we didn't let him know\n\t\t\tabout this sooner.\n\nThe Cops look at each other, uncertain about what to do.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (relenting)\n\t\t\tOkay, Doc.  You want to see the mayor, you\n\t\t\tgot it.  Follow us.\n\nThey head for their respective vehicles.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nLouis and Janine are on the sofa making out when Dana enters.  They jump\nup and start smoothing their clothes.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (embarrassed)\n\t\t\tOh, hello, Dana.  we were just -- we were --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI know what you were doing, Louis.  It's\n\t\t\tall right.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tHow was your date?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tTypical.  Peter was arrested.  Has he called?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tNo, nobody called.\n\nDana frowns.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tIs everything all right with Oscar?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tOh, he's fine.  He's such a good baby.  He\n\t\t\twas a little fussy at first, but we gave\n\t\t\thim a Freach bread pizza and he went right\n\t\t\tto sleep.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (relieved)\n\t\t\tOh, good.  I'll just check on him.\n\nShe crosses to the bedroom.\n\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S BEDROOM - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nDana looks at Oscar sleeping peacefully on the bed.  She starts to change\nclothes.\n\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nLouis and Janine aren't sure what to do.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tShould we go?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tI don't think we should leave her alone.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tYou're right.  We should stay.\n\nHe grabs Janine and they start making out again.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM RESTORATION STUDIO - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nJanosz stands before the painting of Vigo.  Vigo comes to life and\nrepeats the litany of his power.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tI, Vigo, the scourge of Carpathia --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (heard all this before)\n\t\t\tYes, the scourge --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\t-- the sorrow of Moldavia --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t-- the sorrow --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tI command you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (checking his watch)\n\t\t\tI await the word of Vigo.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tThe season of evil begins with the birth of\n\t\t\tthe new year.  Bring me the child that I\n\t\t\tmight live again.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (abjectly humble)\n\t\t\tLord Vigo, the mother, Dana, is fine and\n\t\t\tstrong.  I was wondering -- well, would it\n\t\t\tbe possible -- if I bring the baby, could I\n\t\t\thave the woman?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tSo be it.  On this the day of darkness, she\n\t\t\twill be ours, wife to you and mother to me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  CARL SCHURZ PARK - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nPreceded by a police car, Ecto-2 enters the small park on the East River\nat 88th Street and disappears into an underground entrance.  The CAMERA\nPANS UP to reveal Gracie Mansion, the residence of the Mayor of New York\nCity.\n\n<b>INT.  GRACIE MANSION - MOMENTS LATER\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters, now wearing police raincoats over their longjohns are\nushered through the house by a butler to a set of double oak doors.  The\nbutler knocks lightly, then opens the door to reveal the MAYOR sitting in\nfront of the fireplace in his well-appointed private study, flanked by\nJack Hardemeyer, both in tuxedoes.  The Ghostbusters enter.\n\n<b>INT.  STUDY - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n</b>\nThe Mayor is impatient and a little angry at having been pulled out of\nhis formal reception.  He frowns at their bizarre attire.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\tAll right -- the Ghostbusters.  I'll tell\n\t\t\tyou right now; I've got two hundred of the\n\t\t\theaviest campaign contributors in the city\n\t\t\tout there eating bad roast chicken waiting\n\t\t\tfor me to give the speech of my life.\n\t\t\tYou've got two minutes.  Make it good.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou get enough negative energy flowing in a\n\t\t\tdense environment like Manhattan, it starts\n\t\t\tto build up, and if we don't do something\n\t\t\tfast this whole place will blow like a frog\n\t\t\ton a hotplate.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tTell him about the toaster.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI don't think he's ready for the toaster.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shaking his head)\n\t\t\tBeing miserable and treating other people\n\t\t\tlike dirt is every New Yorker's God-given\n\t\t\tright.  What am I supposed to do -- go on\n\t\t\ttelevision and tell eight million people\n\t\t\tthey have to be nice to each other?  I'm\n\t\t\tsorry, none of this makes any sense to me,\n\t\t\tand if anything does happen we've got plenty\n\t\t\tof paid professionals to deal with it.  Your\n\t\t\ttwo minutes are up.  Good night, gentlemen.\n\nThe mayor exits, leaving the Ghostbusters to Hardemeyer.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (smirking)\n\t\t\tThat's quite a story.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, I think the Times might be interested,\n\t\t\tdon't you?  The Post might have a lot of fun\n\t\t\twith it, too.\n\nHardemeyer's eyes go cold and calculating.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tBefore you go running to the newspapers with\n\t\t\tthis, would you consider telling this slime\n\t\t\tthing to some people downtown?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNow you're talking.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  PARKVIEW HOSPITAL - PSYCHIATRIC WARD - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nAn attendant opens a locked door with a wire mesh window and the\nGhostbusters, in straitjackets, are led into the psych ward as Hardemeyer\nconfers with the chief PSYCHIATRIST.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (protesting)\n\t\t\tI'm telling you, we're not crazy.  He is!\n\n<b>HARDEMEYER\n</b>\nHe laughs off the remark.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Psychiatrist)\n\t\t\tThe mayor wants them kept under strict\n\t\t\tobservation for a few days.  We think\n\t\t\tthey're seriously disturbed and potentially\n\t\t\tdangerous.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPSYCHIATRIST\n</b>\t\t\tWe'll do whatever's necessary.\n\nHardemeyer shakes his hand and exits as the door slams shut on the\nGhostbusters.\n\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nLouis and Janine are watching an old rerun on TV, eating popcorn, while\nDana is stretched out on the other sofa.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (wishing they'd leave)\n\t\t\tYou know you really don't have to stay.\n\t\t\tPeter should be back soon.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh no, we don't mind.\n\nShe hears a little CRY from the nursery and sits up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tExcuse me.  I think Oscar is up.\n\nShe crosses to the bedroom.\n\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S BEDROOM - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nDana enters and immediately notices that the crib is empty and the window\nis open.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (screams)\n\t\t\tLouis!\n\nFrantic now, Dana rushes to the window and looks out, as Louis and Janine\ncome running in.\n\n<b>EXT.  WINDOW LEDGE - DANA'S POV - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nThe baby is standing out on the ledge at the corner of the building,\nfifty feet above the street, staring off into the distance as if he's\nwaiting for something.\n\n<b>EXT.  WINDOW LEDGE - NIGHT (ECLIPSE) (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nDana climbs out onto the ledge and starts inching slowly toward the baby.\nThen she stops as a miraculous apparition materializes.\n\n<b>LOUIS AND JANINE\n</b>\nThey lean out the window, gaping at the apparition.\n\n<b>EXT.  VENKMAN'S LEDGE - APPARITION\n</b>\nA sweet, kindly-looking English nanny appears, pushing a pram, strolling\non thin air parallel to the ledge high above the ground.  Her face looks\nremarkably like Janosz Poha's.  The nanny extends her hand to the BABY\nwho GURGLES sweetly as he reaches out to take it.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe watches in helpless horror.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (screams)\n\t\t\tNo!!\n\n<b>GHOST NANNY\n</b>\nShe picks up the baby and lays it gently in the pram, then turns and\nsmiles at Dana.  The smile turns to a hideous grin, then the nanny\nshrieks at Dana and takes off like a shot with the baby.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe watches the creature fly off with Oscar, then climbs back through\nthe window assisted by Louis and Janine.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (resolutely)\n\t\t\tLouis, you have to find Peter and tell him\n\t\t\twhat happened.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (confused and worried)\n\t\t\tWhere're you going?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tTo get my baby back.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM - NIGHT (A LITTLE LATER)\n</b>\nA taxi pulls up, Dana jumps out and rushes into the museum.  The moment\nthe door closes behind her, there is a loud THUNDERCLAP, the ground\ntrembles and a massive amount of slime erupts from around the base of\nthe museum and starts covering the walls, sealing her inside the\nbuilding.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  PARKVIEW PSYCHIATRIC - PADDED ROOM - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nVenkman, Stantz, Spengler and Winston are in a padded cell.  They are\nhandcuffed and the cuffs are chained to thick leather belts around their\nwaists.  Venkman stands there banging his head into the padded wall\nwhile the others try to explain the situation to a skeptical\nPsychiatrist.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWe think the spirit of Vigo the Carpathian\n\t\t\tis alive in a painting at the Manhattan\n\t\t\tMuseum.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPSYCHIATRIST\n</b>\t\t\tI see. And are there any other paintings in\n\t\t\tthe museum with bad spirits in them?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (impatient)\n\t\t\tYou're wasting valuable time!  We have reason\n\t\t\tto believe that Vigo is drawing strength from\n\t\t\ta psychomagnetheric slime flow that's been\n\t\t\tcollecting under the city.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPSYCHIATRIST\n</b>\t\t\tYes, tell me about the slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tIt's potent stuff.  We made a toaster dance\n\t\t\twith it, then a bathtub tried to eat his\n\t\t\tfriend's baby.\n\nThe psychiatrist looks at Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDon't look at me.  I think they're nuts.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM RESTORATION STUDIO - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nMoonlight streams through the skylight above, bathing the studio in\neerie white light.  Oscar is lying safely on a table in front of the\npainting of Vigo.  Dana enters cautiously and sees the baby.  Seeing no\none else about, she quickly sneaks down to the table and picks up the\nbaby, hugging hin tight, greatly relieved to find him unharmed and\nintact.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\tI knew you would come.\n\nStartled, Dana turns at the sound of his voice as Janosz steps out from\nbehind the Vigo painting.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (defiantly)\n\t\t\tWhat do you want with my baby?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo harm will come to the child.  You might\n\t\t\teven say it's a privilege.  He will be the\n\t\t\tvessel for the spirit of Vigo.  And you --\n\t\t\twell, you will be the mother of the ruler\n\t\t\tof the world.  Doesn't that sound nice?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tIf this is what the world will be like, I\n\t\t\tdon't want to live in it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (confidentially, indicating\n\t\t\t\t Vigo)\n\t\t\tI don't believe we have the luxury of choice.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tEverybody has a choice.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tNot in this case, my dear.  Take a look.\n\t\t\tThat's not Gainsborough's Blue Boy up there.\n\t\t\tHe's Vigo!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI don't care who he is.  He's not taking my\n\t\t\tbaby.\n\nDana walks quickly to the door but suddenly Oscar flies out of her arms,\nfloats across the room and lands lightly back in the cradle.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe turns and looks at Vigo, for the first time feeling his power.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou will see.  It's all for the best.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  PARKVIEW HOSPITAL - DAY (NEXT MORNING)\n</b>\nIt's the last day of the year and the sun is shining brightly.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  PARKVIEW PSYCHIATRIC WARD - DAY (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters are sitting in the dayroom, a dingy lounge for patients\nin the locked ward.  There is a television set, a Ping-Pong table and a\nfew tables and chairs.  Stantz is looking at the sky through the heavy\nwire mesh covering the windows.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThis is it. boys.  It's starting.  Shit-storm\n<b>\t\t\t2000.\n</b>\nVenkman is doing occupational therapy, weaving on a little hand-loom.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tIt better not start yet.  I'm trying to\n\t\t\tfinish my potholder before lunch.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tYou think all those predictions about the\n\t\t\tworld coming to an end in the 1990s are true?\n\nA PATIENT at the next table joins the discussion.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPATIENT\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with certainty)\n\t\t\t1997.  My dog told me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat kind of dog?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPATIENT\n</b>\t\t\tLabrador.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shakes his head)\n\t\t\tHabitual liars.  They can't help it.  It's\n\t\t\tin the breed.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  PARKVIEW HOSPITAL - EXAMINING ROOM - DAY (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nLouis is pleading with his cousin, SHERMAN TULLY, a doctor on the staff\nat Parkview.  He looks and sounds just like Louis.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tCome on, Sherm.  You're my cousin.  Do this\n\t\t\tfor me.  I'm begging you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI can't do it, Louis.  It isn't ethical.  I\n\t\t\tcould lose my license.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tWhy can't you just have them released?\n\t\t\tYou're a doctor.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm a dermatologist.  I can't write orders\n\t\t\ton the psych ward.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tSherman, I've done lots of favors for you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tLike what?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI got you out of those bad tax shelters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou were the one who got me in.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI fixed you up with Diane Troxler and she\n\t\t\tput out, didn't she?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, I had to give her free dermabrasion\n\t\t\tfor a year.  Forget it, Louis.  I could get\n\t\t\tin a lot of trouble.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI'm telling you, we're all going to be in\n\t\t\tbig trouble if we don't do something fast.\n\t\t\tThat ghost guy came and took my friend's\n\t\t\tbaby and we got to get it back.  It's just\n\t\t\ta scared little baby, Sherm.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThen you should go to the police.  I don't\n\t\t\tbelieve in any of that stuff.\n\nSherman looks out the window.\n\n<b>EXT.  SKY - SHERMAN'S POV\n</b>\nThe sky begins to go dark as the sun is magically eclipsed.\n\n<b>INT.  EXAMINING ROOM - CONTINUOUS ACTION - DAY\n</b>\nThe room goes dark.  Louis switches on a lamp which casts an eerie light\non his face.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (spooky)\n\t\t\tDo you believe it now, Sherm?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  HUDSON RIVER PIER - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nA drainpipe starts dripping slime into the river near the Cunard Line\ndocks.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  PUBLIC FOUNTAIN (59TH AND FIFTH) - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nWith the Plaza Hotel in the background, the fountain starts to spout\npsycho-reactive slime.\n\n<b>HOTEL ENTRANCE\n</b>\nA well-heeled MAN and WOMAN step out of a limousine and walk up the steps\ntoward the revolving door.  She looks up at the sky and frowns.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWOMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shrewish)\n\t\t\tI told you we should have stayed in Palm\n\t\t\tBeach.  The weather here gets stranger every\n\t\t\tyear.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYes, dear.\n\nShe doesn't notice it, but a small amount of slime falls on the back of\nher luxurious, full-length, white mink coat.  The doorman nods\ncourteously and extends a hand to help her up the stairs.\n\n<b>WOMAN\n</b>\nShe yelps in pain.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWOMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the doorman)\n\t\t\tSomething just bit me!\n\nThe doorman looks curiously at her, then recoils in shock as her coat\ncomes alive.  MINK HEADS pop out of the thick fur, SNARLING, BARKING and\nYAPPING, their sharp, little teeth biting the air.  Reacting quickly, the\ndoorman yanks the coat off the woman's back, throws it to the ground and\nstarts stomping on it as the Woman and her husband look on in horror.\nThe coat scuttles down the steps and runs off down the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MIDTOWN CENTRAL POLICE PRECINCT - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nThe squad room is busy as DETECTIVES try to answer the flood of calls\nregarding the wave of supernatural events sweeping the city.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDETECTIVE ONE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on the phone)\n\t\t\tLook, lady, of course there are dead people\n\t\t\tthere.  It's a cemetery ...\n\t\t\t\t (his face falls)\n\t\t\tThey were asking you for directions?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDETECTIVE TWO\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on another phone)\n\t\t\tWas this a big dinosaur or a little dinosaur?\n\t\t\t... Oh, just the skeleton, huh?  Well, where\n\t\t\tis it now?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDETECTIVE THREE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on the phone)\n\t\t\tWait a second -- the park bench was chasing\n\t\t\tyou?  You mean, someone was chasing you in\n\t\t\tthe park ... No, the bench itself was chasing\n\t\t\tyou.  I see --\n\nA weary SERGEANT answers a RINGING PHONE.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSERGEANT\n</b>\t\t\tManhattan Central, Flaherty speaking ...\n\t\t\tYeah ... yeah? ... What?  Who is this? ...\n\t\t\tWait a second.\n\nHe puts the caller on \"Hold\" and turns the LIEUTENANT.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSERGEANT\n</b>\t\t\tLieutenant, I think you better talk to this\n\t\t\tguy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLIEUTENANT\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on another call)\n\t\t\tWhat is it?  I'm talkin' here!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSERGEANT\n</b>\t\t\tIt's some dock supervisor down at Pier 34\n\t\t\ton the Hudson.  The guy's going nuts.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLIEUTENANT\n</b>\t\t\tWhat's the problem?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSERGEANT\n</b>\t\t\t\t (takes a deep breath)\n\t\t\tHe says the Titanic just arrived.\n\n<b>INT.  PORT AUTHORITY OFFICE - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nThe dock supervisor stands there with the phone in his hand, an assistant\nbeside him, both staring out the window at the ocean liner tied up at the\npier.\n\n<b>EXT.  PIER 34 - THEIR POV - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nThe name \"R.M.S. Titanic\" is clearly visible on the side of the huge\nship.  The gangplank is down and dozens of drowned passengers, sopping\nwet and festooned with seaweed, are disembarking while drowned porters\noff-load their waterlogged baggage.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  PARKVIEW HOSPITAL - NIGHT (MOMENTS LATER)(ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nEcto-2 is parked outside as Louis and Sherman come out of the hospital\nwith the Ghostbusters, now wearing their standard uniforms.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tGood work, Louis.  How did you get us out?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh, I pulled a few strings.  I wouldn't want\n\t\t\tto say any more than that.\n\nLouis winks conspiratorially at Sherman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tThis is my cousin Sherman.  Sherm, say hello\n\t\t\tto the Ghostbusters.\n\t\t\t\t (sotto voce to Stantz)\n\t\t\tI promised him a ride in the car if he got\n\t\t\tyou out.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Ghostbusters)\n\t\t\tHi, it's really great to meet you guys.  I\n\t\t\tknow this sounds weird but once I had a\n\t\t\tdream that my grandfather was standing at\n\t\t\tthe foot of my bed, but I knew it was\n\t\t\timpossible because he died and he started\n\t\t\tto tell me that --\n\nWhile he's talking, the Ghostbusters jump in the Ectomobile and drive\noff, leaving him and Louis standing at the curb.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tHey!  Wait!  Okay, I'll meet you there.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI thought you were like the fifth Ghostbuster.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI let them handle all the little stuff.  I\n\t\t\tjust come in on the big ones.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>-----------------------------------------------------------------------\n</b>(original version of the above scene - 11/27/88)\n(TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES: These two versions of this scene were put in my\ncopy of the script, so I have included both of them here)\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tActually, they still think you're crazy, but\n\t\t\tI convinced them you're not dangerous.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (determined)\n\t\t\tYeah, well guess again.\n\n<b>EXT.  BELLEVUE HOSPITAL - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)(MOMENTS LATER)\n</b>\nEcto-2 is parked outside and the Ghostbusters are hastily donning their\nstandard uniforms.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI brought everything you asked for and I\n\t\t\tgassed up the car with Super Unleaded.  It\n\t\t\tcost twenty cents more than Regular Unleaded\n\t\t\tbut you get much better performance and in\n\t\t\tan old car like this that'll end up saving\n\t\t\tyou money in the long run.  I put it on my\n\t\t\tcredit card, so you can either reimburse me\n\t\t\tor I can take it out of petty cash --\n\nWhile he's talking, the Ghostbusters jump in the Ecto-2 and drive\noff without him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tHey!  Wait!  Okay, I'll meet you there.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>-----------------------------------------------------------------------\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)(LATER)\n</b>\nECTO-2 pulls to the curb across the street from the museum.  Hundreds of\nspectators are already there gawking at the building as the Ghostbusters\njump out and gape at the sight that greets them.\n\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM THEIR POV - BUILDING\n</b>\nThe building is now totally covered in a shell of psycho-reactive slime.\nCITY WORKMEN and FIREMEN are trying to cut their way in with blowtorches,\njackhammers, power tools and the \"jaws of life,\" but they can't even make\na dent.\n\n<b>GHOSTBUSTERS\n</b>\nThey size up the situation as they don their proton packs.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt looks like a giant Jello mold.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI hate Jello.\n\nThey stride manfully across the street and approach the main entrance to\nthe museum.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Fire Captain)\n\t\t\tOkay, give it a rest, Captain.  We'll take\n\t\t\tit from here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRE CAPTAIN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (skeptical)\n\t\t\tBe my guest.  We been cutting here for three\n\t\t\thours.  What the hell's going on?  You know\n\t\t\tthe Titanic arrived this morning?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWell, better late than never.\n\nThe workmen and firemen put down their tools and fall back as the\nGhostbusters draw their particle throwers.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (monitoring valences)\n\t\t\tFull neutronas, maser assist.\n\nThey adjust their settings and prepare to fire.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThrow 'em!\n\nThey trigger their throwers and spray the front doors of the building\nwith bolts of proton energy, but it has no effect on the hardened slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the firemen)\n\t\t\tOkay, who knows \"Cumbaya?\"\n\nA few of the firemen and workmen tentatively raise their hands.  Venkman\ngrabs them and lines them up at the entrance of the museum.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAll right.  Nice and sweet --\n\t\t\t\t (starts singing)\n\t\t\tCumbaya, milord, cumbaya --\n\nStantz, Spengler, Winston and the firemen sing along, reluctantly holding\nhands and swaying to the music.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tALL\n</b>\t\t\t\t (singing)\n\t\t\tCumbaya, milord, cumbaya, Cumbaya, milord,\n\t\t\tcumbaya, Oh, Lord, cumbaya.\n\nStantz inspects the wall of slime with his infra-goggles and finds that\nthey have only managed to open a hole the size of a dime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tForget it.  The Vienna Boys Choir couldn't\n\t\t\tget through this stuff.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tGood effort.  Now what?  Should we say\n\t\t\tsupportive, nurturing things to it, Ray?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tIt won't work.  There's no way we could\n\t\t\tgenerate enough positive energy to crack\n\t\t\tthat shell.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI can't believe things have gotten so bad\n\t\t\tin this city that there's no way back.\n\t\t\tSure, it's crowded, it's dirty, it's noisy.\n\t\t\tAnd there are too many people who'd just as\n\t\t\tsoon step on your face as look at you.  But\n\t\t\tthere've got to be a few sparks of sweet\n\t\t\thumanity left in this burned-out burg.  We\n\t\t\tjust have to mobilize it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWe need something that everyone can get\n\t\t\tbehind, a symbol --\n\nHis eyes fall on ECTO-2's New York State license plate which features a\nline drawing of the Statue of Liberty.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (he sees it, too)\n\t\t\tSomething that appeals to the best in each\n\t\t\tand every one of us --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tSomething good --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAnd pure --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tAnd decent.\n\n<b>EXT.  THE STREET - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nThere is a commotion among the crowd as the Mayor's limousine arrives\nwith a police escort.  Jack Hardemeyer steps out followed by the Mayor\nhimself and they cross to the museum entrance.\n\nHardemeyer, his ASSISTANT and several police BODYGUARDS confront the\nGhostbusters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tLook, I've had it with you.  Get your stuff\n\t\t\ttogether, get back in that clown car and get\n\t\t\tout of here.  This is a city matter and\n\t\t\teverything's under control.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOh, you think so?  Well, I've got news for\n\t\t\tyou.  You've got Dracula's brother-in-law\n\t\t\tin there and he's got my girlfriend and her\n\t\t\tkid.  Around about midnight tonight, when\n\t\t\tyou're partying uptown, this guy's going to\n\t\t\tcome to life and start doing amateur head\n\t\t\ttransplants.  And that's just round one.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\tAre you telling me there're people trapped\n\t\t\tin there?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to his assistant)\n\t\t\tThis is dynamite.  Call A.P., U.P.I., and\n\t\t\tC.N.N. and get them down here right away.\n\t\t\tWhen the police bring this kid out I want\n\t\t\tthem to hand it right to the mayor and I\n\t\t\twant it all on camera.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tMr. Mayor, if we don't do something by\n\t\t\tmidnight, you're going to go down in history\n\t\t\tas the man who let New York get sucked down\n\t\t\tinto the tenth level of hell.\n\nThe Mayor stops to consider the situation.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Fire Captain)\n\t\t\tCan you get into that museum?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRE CAPTAIN\n</b>\t\t\tIf I had a nuclear warhead, maybe.\n\nThe Mayor turns to Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\tYou know why all these things are happening?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWe tried to tell you last night, but Mr.\n\t\t\tHard-On over here packed us off to the loony\n\t\t\tbin.\n\nHardemeyer flips out.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tThis is preposterous!  You can't seriously\n\t\t\tbelieve all this mumbo-jumbo!  It's the\n\t\t\tTwentieth Century, for crying out loud!\n\t\t\t\t (viciously, to Venkman)\n\t\t\tLook, mister, I don't know what this stuff\n\t\t\tis or how you got it all over the museum,\n\t\t\tbut you better get it off and I mean right\n\t\t\tnow!\n\nHe pounds the wall of slime with his fist, and they all watch in\namazement as his fist goes through the wall and he is sucked bodily\nthrough the slime curtain.  Only his shoes can be seen, embedded in the\nslime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Venkman)\n\t\t\tOkay, just tell me what you need.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  LIBERTY ISLAND (NEW YORK HARBOR) - NIGHT\n</b>\nWith the city skyline in the b.g., the Ghostbusters prepare their\nequipment.  Each of them dons a makeshift backpack consisting of tanks,\nhoses, nozzles and an abundance of gauges, valves and regulators.\nVenkman looks up at the Statue of Liberty looming above them.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tKind of makes you wonder, doesn't it?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tWonder what?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tIf she's naked under that toga.  She's\n\t\t\tFrench, you know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tThere's nothing under that toga but 300 tons\n\t\t\tof iron and steel.\n\nStantz is looking worried.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI hope we have enough stuff to do the job.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOnly one way to find out.\n\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tReady, Teddy?\n\nThey enter the statue.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  STATUE OF LIBERTY - MOMENTS LATER\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters are working from the iron staircase that spirals\nstraight up 100 feet inside the hollow super-structure of the statue.\nSpengler and Winston are busy assembling hundreds of wires connected to\nvarious relays on the interior surface of the statue.  Venkman and Stantz\nare mounting large auditorium loudspeakers near the top of the staircase.\nThey finish the installation, then Stantz dons one of the new backpacks\nand gives the order.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, boys.  Let's frost it.\n\nThey begin hosing the inside of the statue with the psycho-reactive\nslime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nJanine watches as Louis, wearing a Ghostbuster uniform, slings a heavy\nproton pack onto his back.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tI'm not sure this is such a good idea?  Do\n\t\t\tthey know you're doing this?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh, yeah, sure -- no.  But there's really\n\t\t\tnot much to do here and they might need\n\t\t\tsome back-up at the museum.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tYou're very brave, Louis.  Good luck.\n\nShe kisses Louis and he gets extremely self-conscious.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tUh -- oh -- well, I better hurry.\n\nHe rushes out.\n\n<b>EXT  STREET OUTSIDE FIREHOUSE - NIGHT (LITTLE LATER)\n</b>\nLouis stands on the street corner waiting for a bus.  Finally, a bus\npulls up, Louis climbs aboard and finds Slimer behind the wheel.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  STATUE OF LIBERTY - OBSERVATION DECK - MOMENTS LATER\n</b>\nVenkman, Stantz, Spengler and Winston are standing in the observation\nwindows in the crown of the statue.  It looks like they're on the bridge\nof an ocean liner, then the CAMERA PULLS BACK to reveal the head of the\nstatue.\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe plugs the main cable lead into a transformer.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt's all yours, Pete.\n\t\t\t\t (checks his watch)\n\t\t\tThere's not much time left.\n\nVenkman plugs the speaker cable into a Walkman and gives a downbeat.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (giving the downbeat)\n\t\t\tOkay, one, two, three, four --\n\nHe hits \"Play\" on the Walkman and \"HIGHER AND HIGHER\" BOOMS from the huge\nSPEAKERS, amplified by the statue's vast hollow interior.\n\n<b>INT.  OBSERVATION DECK - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe head of the statue lurches suddenly, but the Ghostbusters cling to\nthe rail and manage to keep their feet.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tShe's moving!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tI've lived in New York all my life and I\n\t\t\tnever visited the Statue of Liberty.  Now I\n\t\t\tfinally get here and we're taking her out\n\t\t\tfor a walk.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reading the Giga-meter)\n\t\t\tWe've got full power.\n\nStantz picks up a Nintendo control paddle from a home video game and\nstarts pushing the buttons.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (into a microphone)\n\t\t\tOkay, Libby.  Let's get it in gear.\n\nThey feel a strong vibration and the statue starts to move.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  SOUTH STREET SEAPORT - NIGHT\n</b>\nNew Years Eve celebrants line the riverfront, pointing and gawking at an\nincredible sight.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST RIVER - THEIR POV - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe statue is moving up the river almost completely submerged, only her\nhead from the nose up is visible above the surface.\n\n<b>INT.  OBSERVATION DECK - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nWinston looks out apprehensively.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tHow deep does it get?  That water's cold and\n\t\t\tI can't swim.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tIt's okay.  I have my Senior Lifesaving card.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWith a water temperature of forty degrees\n\t\t\twe'd survive approximately fifteen minutes.\n\nStantz studies a maritime navigational chart.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI'll keep to the middle of the channel.\n\t\t\tWe're okay to 59th Street, then we'll go\n\t\t\tashore and take First Avenue to 79th.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAre you kidding?  We'll hit all that bridge\n\t\t\ttraffic at 59th.  I'm going to take 72nd\n\t\t\tstraight up to Fifth.  Trust me, I used to\n\t\t\tdrive a cab.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  RIVERFRONT - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nSpectators cheer wildly, inspired by the sight of the Statue.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM RESTORATION STUDIO - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nJanosz is sitting next to Dana, still wheedling her with promises and\nself-serving logic.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tTime is running out, Dana.  Soon it will be\n\t\t\tmidnight and the city will be mine -- and\n\t\t\tVigo's.  Well, mainly Vigo's.  But we have\n\t\t\ta spectacular opportunity to make the best\n\t\t\tof our relationship.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tWe don't have a relationship.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tI know.  Marry me, Dana, and together we\n\t\t\twill raise Vigo as our son.  There are many\n\t\t\tperks that come with being the mother of a\n\t\t\tliving god.  I'm sure he will supply for us\n\t\t\ta magnificent apartment.  And perhaps a car\n\t\t\tand free parking.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI hate and despise you and everything you\n\t\t\tstand for with all my heart and soul.  I\n\t\t\tcould never forgive what you've done to me\n\t\t\tand my child.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tMany marriages begin with a certain amount\n\t\t\tof distance, but after a while I believe we\n\t\t\tcould learn to love each other.  Think about\n\t\t\tit.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI'd rather not.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  TIMES SQUARE - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nPeople are jammed together shoulder to shoulder filling Times Square,\nwatching the big Seiko clock count down the last ten minutes to midnight.\nSuddenly, they look down Broadway and see a magnificent sight.\n\n<b>EXT.  BROADWAY - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe Statue of Liberty is walking up Broadway approaching 42nd Street,\nwith \"Higher and Higher\" BOOMING from the SPEAKERS inside.  A great cheer\ngoes up, and the crowd goes wild with joy, dancing and singing along with\nthe MUSIC.\n\n<b>INT.  STATUE OF LIBERTY OBSERVATION DECK - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS)\n</b>\nSpengler reads the Giga-meter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tIt's working.  The positive GeV's are\n\t\t\tclimbing.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (patting the Statue)\n\t\t\tThey love you, Lib.  Keep it up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  FIFTH AVENUE - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nThe avenue has been closed to traffic and barricades placed, blocking all\nthe side streets.  A squadron of police motorcycles comes speeding around\nthe corner at 72nd Street and proceeds up Fifth Avenue in the direction\nof the museum.  Then MUSIC is heard BOOMING in the distance, the ground\nshakes and the Statue of Liberty comes walking around the corner onto\nFifth Avenue followed by a wildly cheering throng.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  OBSERVATION DECK - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters can see the museum ahead.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo far so good.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (worried)\n\t\t\tI'm worried.  The vibrations could shake her\n\t\t\tto pieces.  We should have padded her feet.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI don't think they make Nikes in her size.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWe're almost there, Lib.\n\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tStep on it.\n\n<b>EXT.  STREET - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe Statue's huge foot comes down and squashes a car.\n\n<b>INT.  OBSERVATION DECK - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters look down at the flattened car.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouts out the window)\n\t\t\tMy Fault!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouts)\n\t\t\tShe's new in town.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - RESTORATION STUDIO - SAME TIME\n</b>\nJanosz is painting the last of the mystical symbols on the baby's chest.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  TIMES SQUARE - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nThe people still in the square start counting off the last ten seconds to\nmidnight and the New Year.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCROWD\n</b>\t\t\t\t (chanting)\n\t\t\tTen .. nine ... eight ... seven ...\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - PAINTING - NIGHT\n</b>\nA strange light spreads over the painting.  As the light moves onto his\nface, Vigo spreads his arms wide and his upper body starts to emerge from\nthe canvas.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tSoon my life begins.  Then woe to the weak,\n\t\t\tall power to me, the world is mine.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - JANOSZ - NIGHT\n</b>\nThe baby's body begins to glow as Vigo reaches out for it.  Then suddenly\na dark shadow falls across the skylight.  Janosz looks up.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - JANOSZ'S POV - SKYLIGHT - NIGHT\n</b>\nThe Statue of Liberty is looming over the skylight looking down on Janosz\nwith an expression of righteous anger on it's face.\n\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nKneeling beside the museum, the statue draws back it's mighty right arm\nand smashes the skylight with its torch.\n\n<b>INT.  RESTORATION STUDIO - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nJanosz retreats from the shower of broken glass as the Ghostbusters come\nsliding down ropes into the studio and confront Janosz with their new\nweapons.  Quick as a flash, Dana seizes the moment, dashes across the\nstudio and snatches the baby from Vigo's outstretched arms.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Janosz)\n\t\t\tHappy New Year.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - VIGO PAINTING - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nVigo bellows in rage.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - STUDIO - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nJanosz steps in front of the painting.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tHi there.  Feel free to try something stupid.\n\nJanosz sneers, trusting the invincibility of Vigo.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou pitiful, miserable creatures!  You dare\n\t\t\tto challenge the power of darkness?  Don't\n\t\t\tyou realize what you are dealing with?  He's\n\t\t\tVigo!  You are like the buzzing of flies to\n\t\t\thim.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (sighs)\n\t\t\tOh, Johnny.  Did you back the wrong horse.\n\nWith that, the Ghostbusters fire their slime-blowers and hose Janosz from\nhead to toe, blowing him into the corner.  Then they turn to Vigo.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nHe is now almost completely out of the painting, but still held from the\nknees down.  He spits and rages at the Ghostbusters, trying to unleash\nhis magic powers.\n\n<b>THE GHOSTBUSTERS\n</b>\nThey stand fast, secure in the knowledge that Vigo's power has been\nneutralized by the good will of the people.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tVigi, Vigi, Vigi -- you have been a bad\n\t\t\tlittle monkey.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThe whole city's together on this one.  We\n\t\t\ttook a vote.  Everybody's down on you, you\n\t\t\tknow.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (arming his slime-blower)\n\t\t\tSay goodnight now.\n\nSuddenly Vigo grabs Stantz by the neck and holds him up as a shield.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tDon't shoot!  You'll hit Ray!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (strangling)\n\t\t\tDo it!  Just do it!\n\nWinston fires and hoses both Vigo and Ray.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nHe bellows and drops Ray, then falls back into the painting.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - PAINTING - NIGHT\n</b>\nThe paint turns liquid, melts off the canvas and runs onto the floor\nrevealing another painting underneath it.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - GHOSTBUSTERS - NIGHT (AFTER BATTLE)\n</b>\nVenkman, Spengler and Winston rush over to Ray and kneel beside him.  He\nis completely covered with slime and motionless.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (examining him)\n\t\t\tHe's breathing.\n\nWinston wipes the slime off Ray's face and Ray opens his eyes.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tRay -- Ray -- How do you feel, man?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (smiles lovingly)\n\t\t\tGroovy.  I've never felt better in my life.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOh, no.  We've got to live with this?\n\nThey pull him to his feet.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI love you guys.  You're the best friends\n\t\t\tI've ever had.\n\nHe hugs them each in turn, leaving them slimed as well.  Venkman recoils\nin disgust.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHey, I just had this suit cleaned.\n\t\t\t\t (indicating Janosz)\n\t\t\tTake care of the wiggler, will you.\n\nVenkman crosses to Dana who is snuggling the baby.  She hugs Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat is this -- a love in?\n\t\t\t\t (notes the symbols painted\n\t\t\t\t on the baby's body)\n\t\t\tHey, sailor.  I think the tattoos are a\n\t\t\tlittle much, don't you?\n\nHe picks up the baby.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Venkman)\n\t\t\tI think he likes you.  I think I do too.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tFinally came to your senses, huh?\n\nThey hug and kiss.\n\n<b>SPENGLER, WINSTON AND STANTZ\n</b>\nThey help Janosz to his feet.  He's dazed but unhurt.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (restored to normalcy)\n\t\t\tWhat happened?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (calmly)\n\t\t\tSir, you had a violent, prolonged,\n\t\t\ttransformative psychic episode.  But it's\n\t\t\tover now.  Want a coffee?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (extremely nice)\n\t\t\tThat's very kind of you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tHe's fine, Ray.  Physically intact,\n\t\t\tpsychomagnetherically neutral.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tIs that good?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tIt's where you want to be.\n\nAs they exit they stop to examine the painting that was concealed by\nVigo's self-portrait.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tLate Renaissance, I think.  Caravaggio or\n\t\t\tBrunelleschi.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (staring at it)\n\t\t\tThere's something very familiar about this\n\t\t\tpainting.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - NEW PAINTING - NIGHT\n</b>\nIt's a beautiful painting in the high-Renaissance style depicting four\narchangels hovering protectively over a cherubic baby.  One holds a harp,\none, an olive branch, the third, a book, and the last, a sword.  Most\nremarkably, their faces bear an uncanny resemblance to Venkman, Stantz,\nSpengler and Winston.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  STREET - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nA city bus pulls up near the museum and Louis steps off.  He waves his\nthanks to Slimer who is behind the wheel.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Slimer)\n\t\t\tOkay, so Monday night we'll get something\n\t\t\tto eat and maybe go bowling?  Can you bowl\n\t\t\twith those little arms?\n\nSLIMER GRUNTS and SLOBBERS a reply, flexing his scrawny biceps.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, I have to go save Dana.  I'll see you\n\t\t\tlater.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. MUSEUM - NIGHT (LITTLE LATER)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters are greeted by wild cheering and applause as they come\nout the main entrance with Dana and the baby.  Everybody starts singing\n\"Auld Lang Syne.\"  Louis picks his way through the celebrating crowd and\nfinds the Ghostbusters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tAm I too late?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo, you're right on time.\n\nStantz pops the cork on a bottle of champagne and hands it to him.\n\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM ENTRANCE - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nHardemeyer staggers out of the museum covered in slime.  He looks at the\ncelebrating crowd and his eyes fill with tears.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (weepy)\n\t\t\tHappy New Year, everybody!\n\nHe joins in on \"Auld Lang Syne.\"\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  CENTRAL PARK - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nThe Statue of Liberty is sprawled inert on her back in the park behind\nthe museum, her toga up over her knees.  The Mayor looks nearly suicidal.\nThe Ghostbusters stand beside him commiserating.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tShe's all right.  She's just sleeping it off.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (stricken)\n\t\t\tWe just had it restored.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThis probably isn't a good time to bring\n\t\t\tthis up, but the last time we did a job for\n\t\t\tthe city you stiffed us.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (handing the Mayor an\n\t\t\t\t invoice)\n\t\t\tThis is a bill for tonight's job.\n\nThe Mayor looks at it and gasps at the amount.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\tWhat!  This is way too much.\n\t\t\t\t (hands the bill back to\n\t\t\t\t Venkman)\n\t\t\tWe won't pay.\n\nVenkman looks at the Statue.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tI think she looks pretty good here, don't\n\t\t\tyou?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, and a lot easier to get to than that island.\n\nRealizing he has no alternative, the Mayor sighs and takes the bill back.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\tAll right, all right.  If you can wait until\n\t\tMonday I'll issue you a check.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\tSorry.  No checks.  Company policy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tCUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. LIBERTY ISLAND - DAY (WEEKS LATER)\n</b>\nThe sun is shining brightly and Liberty is back on her pedestal where she\nbelongs.  The Mayor and a host of officials are commemorating her return.\nThe Ghostbusters, Dana, Janine and Louis are there as honored guests.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t(looking up at the statue)\n\t\tPretty impressive, huh?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t(musing)\n\t\tIt's probably the first thing my\n\t\tgrandparents saw when they came to this\n\t\tcountry.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\tFrom where -- Neptune?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\tThey came from Ostrov in Eastern Poland.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\tOstrov?  I've been there.  Good party town.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t(in a similarly reflective\n\t\t\tmood)\n\t\tMy great-grandparents were Swiss.  I still\n\t\thave the pictures they took of the statue\n\t\tfrom the boat when they arrived.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\tOh, right, you told me that.  They came to\n\t\tAmerica seeking other kinds of cheese, as I\n\t\trecall.  How about you, Winston?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tMy people weren't taking any pictures from\n\t\t\tthose slave ships, man.  And there wasn't\n\t\t\tany Statue in Charleston Harbor to welcome\n\t\t\tthem, either.  What are you, Dana?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tMiss Blue Blood?  Her family's been here\n\t\t\tsince the year 12.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThat's not true.  It was 1620.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSame difference.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWhat's your story, Pete?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tMe?  I'm a little of everything.  Some Irish,\n\t\t\tsome German, some French, Dutch -- the women\n\t\t\tin my family slept around.  And that's what\n\t\t\tmade this country great.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThat's a terrible thing to say.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo what?  It's a free country.\n\t\t\t\t (looking up at the Statue)\n\t\t\tThanks, Lib.\n\nThey all look up at the Statue.\n\n<b>EXT.  STATUE OF LIBERTY - HEAD OF STATUE - DAY\n</b>\nSlimer flies out one of the observation windows, THEME MUSIC KICKS IN and\nthe CAMERA PULLS UP and AWAY FROM the island TO a HIGH SHOT of the\nStatue, lower Manhattan and the shining sea beyond.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tFADE OUT.\n</b>\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tTHE END\n</b>\n\nNow, answer the question based on the story asconcisely as you can, using a single phrase if possible. Do not provide any explanation.\n\nQuestion: What song does the crowd outside sing that weakens Vigo?\n\nAnswer:"}
{"question_id": 122, "category": "longbench_qmsum", "reference": ["The semantic specification, on the other hand, is split into three levels: \"scenario\" is a list of schemas and bindings between them, which describes the current event in terms of Source-Path-Goal, Container, etc.; \"referent\" is about the entities in the discourse and includes grammatical information and pointers to the ontology; \"discourse segment\" comprises utterance-specific things."], "prompt": "You are given a meeting transcript and a query containing a question or instruction. Answer the query in one or more sentences.\n\nTranscript:\nGrad B: what things to talk about .\nGrad F: I 'm {disfmarker} What ? Really ? Oh , that 's horrible ! Disincentive !\nGrad A: OK , we 're recording .\nGrad F: Hello ?\nGrad B: Check check {pause} check check .\nGrad D: Uh , yeah .\nGrad F: Hello ? Which am I ?\nProfessor C: Oh right .\nGrad B: Alright . Good .\nGrad F: Channel fi OK . OK . Are you doing something ? OK , then I guess I 'm doing something . So , um , So basically the result of m much thinking since the last time we met , um , but not as much writing , um , is a sheet that I have a lot of , like , thoughts and justification of comments on but I 'll just pass out as is right now . So , um , here . If you could pass this around ? And there 's two things . And so one on one side is {disfmarker} on one side is a sort of the revised sort of updated semantic specification .\nGrad D: Um {disfmarker} The {disfmarker} wait .\nGrad F: And the other side is , um , sort of a revised construction formalism .\nGrad E: This is just one sheet , right ?\nGrad D: Ah ! Just one sheet .\nGrad F: It 's just one sheet .\nGrad D: OK .\nGrad F: It 's just a {disfmarker} Nothing else .\nGrad D: Front , back .\nGrad F: Um , Enough to go around ? OK . And in some ways it 's {disfmarker} it 's {disfmarker} it 's very similar to {disfmarker} There are very few changes in some ways from what we 've , um , uh , b done before but I don't think everyone here has seen all of this . So , uh , I 'm not sure where to begin . Um , as usual the disclaimers are there are {disfmarker} all these things are {disfmarker} it 's only slightly more stable than it was before .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: And , um , after a little bit more discussion and especially like Keith and I {disfmarker} I have more linguistic things to settle in the next few days , um , it 'll probably change again some more .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: Um , maybe I will {disfmarker} let 's start b let 's start on number two actually on the notation , um , because that 's , I 'm thinking , possibly a little more familiar to , um {disfmarker} to people . OK , so the top block is just sort of a {disfmarker} sort of abstract nota it 's sort of like , um , listings of the kinds of things that we can have . And certain things that have , um , changed , have changed back to this . There {disfmarker} there 's been a little bit of , um , going back and forth . But basically obviously all constructions have some kind of name . I forgot to include that you could have a type included in this line .\nProfessor C: What I was gonna {disfmarker} Right .\nGrad F: So something like , um {disfmarker} Well , there 's an example {disfmarker} the textual example at the end has clausal construction . So , um , just to show it doesn't have to be beautiful It could be , you know , simple old text as well . Um , there are a couple of {disfmarker} Uh , these three have various ways of doing certain things . So I 'll just try to go through them . So they could all have a type at the beginning . Um , and then they say the key word construction\nProfessor C: Oh , I see .\nGrad F: and they have some name .\nProfessor C: So {disfmarker} so the current syntax is if it s if there 's a type it 's before construct\nGrad F: Yeah , right .\nProfessor C: OK , that 's fine .\nGrad F: OK , and then it has a block that is constituents . And as usual I guess all the constructions her all the examples here have only , um , tsk {comment} one type of constituent , that is a constructional constituent . I think that 's actually gonna turn out to m be certainly the most common kind . But in general instead of the word \" construct \" , th here you might have \" meaning \" or \" form \" as well . OK ? So if there 's some element that doesn't {disfmarker} that isn't yet constructional in the sense that it maps form and meaning . OK , um , the main change with the constructs which {disfmarker} each of which has , um , the key word \" construct \" and then some name , and then some type specification , is that it 's {disfmarker} it 's pro it 's often {disfmarker} sometimes the case in the first case here that you know what kind of construction it is . So for example whatever I have here is gonna be a form of the word \" throw \" , or it 's gonna be a form of the word , you know , I don't know , \" happy \" , or something like that . Or , you know , some it 'll be a specific word or maybe you 'll have the type . You 'll say \" I need a p uh spatial relation phrase here \" or \" I need a directional specifier here \" . So - uh you could have a j a actual type here . Um , or you could just say in the second case that you only know the meaning type . So a very common example of this is that , you know , in directed motion , the first person to do something should be an agent of some kind , often a human . Right ? So if I {disfmarker} you know , the um , uh , run down the street then I {disfmarker} I {disfmarker} I run down the street , it 's typed , uh , \" I \" , meaning category is what 's there . The {disfmarker} the new kind is this one that is sort of a pair and , um , sort of skipping fonts and whatever . The idea is that sometimes there are , um , general constructions that you know , that you 're going to need . It 's {disfmarker} it 's the equivalent of a noun phrase or a prepositional phrase , or something like that there .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: And usually it has formal um , considerations that will go along with it .\nProfessor C: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: And then uh , you might know something much more specific depending on what construction you 're talking about , about what meaning {disfmarker} what specific meaning you want . So the example again at the bottom , which is directed motion , you might need a nominal expression to take the place of , you know , um , \" the big th \" , you you know , \" the big {disfmarker} the tall dark man \" , you know , \" walked into the room \" .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: But because of the nature of this particular construction you know not just that it 's nominal of some kind but in particular , that it 's some kind of animate nominal , and which will apply just as well to like , you know , a per you know , a simple proper noun or to some complicated expression . Um , so I don't know if the syntax will hold but something that gives you a way to do both constructional and meaning types . So . OK , then I don't think the , {comment} um {disfmarker} at least {disfmarker} Yeah . {comment} None of these examples have anything different for formal constraints ? But you can refer to any of the , um , sort of available elements and scope , right ? which here are the constructs , {comment} to say something about the relation . And I think i if you not if you compare like the top block and the textual block , um , we dropped like the little F subscript . The F subscripts refer to the \" form \" piece of the construct .\nProfessor C: Good .\nGrad F: And I think that , um , in general it 'll be unambiguous . Like if you were giving a formal constraint then you 're referring to the formal pole of that . So {disfmarker} so by saying {disfmarker} if I just said \" Name one \" then that means name one formal and we 're talking about formal struc {comment} Which {disfmarker} which makes sense . Uh , there are certain times when we 'll have an exception to that , in which case you could just indicate \" here I mean the meaningful for some reason \" . Right ? Or {disfmarker} Actually it 's more often that , only to handle this one special case of , you know , \" George and Jerry walk into the room in that order \" .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: So we have a few funny things where something in the meaning might refer to something in the form . But {disfmarker} but s we 're not gonna really worry about that for right now and there are way We can be more specific if we have to later on . OK , and so in terms of the {disfmarker} the relations , you know , as usual they 're before and ends . I should have put an example in of something that isn't an interval relation but in form you might also have a value binding . You know , you could say that , um , you know , \" name - one dot \" , t you know , \" number equals \" , you know , a plural or something like that .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: There are certain things that are attribute - value , similar to the bindings below but I mean they 're just {disfmarker} us usually they 're going to be value {disfmarker} value fillers , right ? OK , and then again semantic constraints here are just {disfmarker} are just bindings . There was talk of changing the name of that . And Johno and I {disfmarker} I {disfmarker} you {disfmarker} you and I can like fight about that if you like ? but about changing it to \" semantic {pause} n effects \" , which I thought was a little bit too order - biased\nGrad B: Well {disfmarker} Th\nGrad F: and \" semantic bindings \" , which I thought might be too restrictive in case we don't have only bindings . And so it was an issue whether constraints {disfmarker} um , there were some linguists who reacted against \" constraints \" , saying , \" oh , if it 's not used for matching , then it shouldn't be called a constraint \" . But I think we want to be uncommitted about whether it 's used for matching or not . Right ? Cuz there are {disfmarker} I think we thought of some situations where it would be useful to use whatever the c bindings are , for actual , you know , sort of like modified constraining purposes .\nProfessor C: Well , you definitely want to de - couple the formalism from the parsing strategy . So that whether or not it 's used for matching or only for verification , I {disfmarker}\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: Yeah , yeah . It 's used shouldn't matter , right ? Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: s For sure . I mean , I don't know what , uh , term we want to use\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: but we don't want to {disfmarker}\nGrad F: Yeah , uh , there was one time when {disfmarker} when Hans explained why \" constraints \" was a misleading word for him .\nProfessor C: Yep .\nGrad F: And I think the reason that he gave was similar to the reason why Johno thought it was a misleading term , which was just an interesting coincidence . Um , but , uh {disfmarker} And so I was like , \" OK , well both of you don't like it ?\nProfessor C: It 's g it 's gone .\nGrad F: Fine , we can change it \" . But I {disfmarker} I {disfmarker} I 'm starting to like it again .\nGrad B: But {disfmarker}\nGrad F: So that that 's why {disfmarker} {comment} That 's why I 'll stick with it .\nGrad A: Well , you know what ?\nGrad F: So {disfmarker}\nGrad A: If you have an \" if - then \" phrase , do you know what the \" then \" phrase is called ?\nProfessor C: Th\nGrad F: What ? Con - uh , a consequent ?\nGrad A: Yeah .\nGrad F: Yeah , but it 's not an \" if - then \" .\nGrad A: No , but {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: I know . Anyway , so the other {disfmarker} the other strategy you guys could consider is when you don't know what word to put , you could put no word ,\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: just meaning . OK ? And the then let {disfmarker}\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: Yeah , that 's true .\nGrad B: So that 's why you put semantic constraints up top and meaning bindings down {disfmarker} down here ?\nGrad F: Oh , oops ! No . That was just a mistake of cut and paste from when I was going with it .\nGrad B: OK .\nProfessor C: OK .\nGrad F: So , I 'm sorry . I didn't mean {disfmarker} that one 's an in unintentional .\nGrad B: So this should be semantic and {disfmarker}\nGrad F: Sometimes I 'm intentionally inconsistent\nGrad B: \nGrad F: cuz I 'm not sure yet . Here , I actually {disfmarker} it was just a mistake .\nGrad B: Th - so this definitely should be \" semantic constraints \" down at the bottom ?\nGrad E: Sure .\nGrad F: Yeah .\nGrad B: OK .\nGrad F: Well , unless I go with \" meaning \" but i I mean , I kind of like \" meaning \" better than \" semantic \"\nGrad B: Or {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: Oh , whatever .\nGrad F: but I think there 's {pause} vestiges of other people 's biases .\nProfessor C: Or {disfmarker} wh That - b\nGrad F: Like {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: Right . Minor {disfmarker} min problem {disfmarker}\nGrad F: Minor point .\nProfessor C: OK .\nGrad E: Extremely .\nGrad F: OK , um , so I think the middle block doesn't really give you any more information , ex than the top block . And the bottom block similarly only just illus you know , all it does is illustrate that you can drop the subscripts and {disfmarker} and that you can drop the , um {disfmarker} uh , that you can give dual types . Oh , one thing I should mention is about \" designates \" . I think I 'm actually inconsistent across these as well . So , um , strike out the M subscript on the middle block .\nProfessor C: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: So basically now , um , this is actually {disfmarker} this little change actually goes along with a big linguistic change , which is that \" designates \" isn't only something for the semantics to worry about now .\nProfessor C: Good .\nGrad F: So we want s \" designates \" to actually know one of the constituents which acts like a head in some respects but is sort of , um , really important for say composition later on . So for instance , if some other construction says , you know , \" are you of type {disfmarker} is this part of type whatever \" , um , the \" designates \" tells you which sort of part is the meaning part . OK , so if you have like \" the big red ball \" , you know , you wanna know if there 's an object or a noun . Well , ball is going to be the designated sort of element of that kind of phrase .\nGrad E: Mmm .\nGrad F: Um , there is a slight complication here which is that when we talk about form it 's useful sometimes to talk about , um {disfmarker} to talk about there also being a designated object and we think that that 'll be the same one , right ? So the ball is the head of the phrase , \" the r the {disfmarker} \" , um , \" big red ball \" , and the entity denoted by the word \" ball \" is sort of the semantic head in some ways of {disfmarker} of this sort of , um , in interesting larger element .\nProfessor C: A a and the {disfmarker} Yeah . And there 's {disfmarker} uh there 's ca some cases where the grammar depends on some form property of the head . And {disfmarker} and this enables you to get that , if I understand you right .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: Right , right .\nGrad E: That 's the idea .\nProfessor C: Yeah yeah .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: And , uh , you might be able to say things like if the head has to go last in a head - final language , you can refer to the head as a p the , you know {disfmarker} the formal head as opposed to the rest of the form having to be at the end of that decision .\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad F: So that 's a useful thing so that you can get some internal structural constraints in .\nProfessor C: OK , so that all looks good . Let me {disfmarker} Oh , w Oh . I don't know . Were you finished ?\nGrad F: Um , there was a list of things that isn't included but you {disfmarker} you can {disfmarker} you can ask a question . That might @ @ it .\nProfessor C: OK . So , i if I understand this the {disfmarker} aside from , uh , construed and all that sort of stuff , the {disfmarker} the differences are mainly that , {vocalsound} we 've gone to the possibility of having form - meaning pairs for a type\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: or actually gone back to ,\nGrad F: Right .\nProfessor C: if we go back far enough {disfmarker}\nGrad F: Well , except for their construction meaning , so it 's not clear that , uh {disfmarker} Well , right now it 's a c uh contr construction type and meaning type . So I don't know what a form type is .\nProfessor C: Oh , I see . Yeah , yeah , yeah . I 'm sorry , you 're right .\nGrad F: Yeah .\nProfessor C: A construction type . Uh , that 's fine . But it , um {disfmarker}\nGrad F: Right . A well , and a previous , um , you know , version of the notation certainly allowed you to single out the meaning bit by it . So you could say \" construct of type whatever designates something \" .\nProfessor C: Yeah .\nGrad F: But that was mostly for reference purposes , just to refer to the meaning pole . I don't think that it was often used to give an extra meaning const type constraint on the meaning , which is really what we want most of the time I think .\nProfessor C: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: Um , I {disfmarker} I don't know if we 'll ever have a case where we actually h if there is a form category constraint , you could imagine having a triple there that says , you know {disfmarker} that 's kind of weird .\nProfessor C: No , no , no , I don't think so . I think that you 'll {disfmarker} you 'll do fine .\nGrad E: I {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: In fact , these are , um , as long as {disfmarker} as Mark isn't around , these are form constraints . So a nominal expression is {disfmarker} uh , the fact that it 's animate , is semantic . The fact that it 's n uh , a nominal expression I would say on most people 's notion of {disfmarker} of f you know , higher form types , this i this is one .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: Right , right .\nProfessor C: And I think that 's just fine .\nGrad E: Yeah , yeah .\nGrad F: Which is fine , yeah .\nProfessor C: Yeah .\nGrad E: It 's {disfmarker} that now , um , I 'm mentioned this , I {disfmarker} I don't know if I ever explained this but the point of , um , I mentioned in the last meeting , {comment} the point of having something called \" nominal expression \" is , um , because it seems like having the verb subcategorize for , you know , like say taking as its object just some expression which , um , designates an object or designates a thing , or whatever , um , that leads to some syntactic problems basically ? So you wanna , you know {disfmarker} you sort of have this problem like \" OK , well , I 'll put the word \" , uh , let 's say , the word \" dog \" , you know . And that has to come right after the verb\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: cuz we know verb meets its object . And then we have a construction that says , oh , you can have \" the \" preceding a noun . And so you 'd have this sort of problem that the verb has to meet the designatum .\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad E: And you could get , you know , \" the kicked dog \" or something like that , meaning \" kicked the dog \" .\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad E: Um , so you kind of have to let this phrase idea in there\nProfessor C: That I {disfmarker} I have no problem with it at all .\nGrad E: but {disfmarker} It - it\nProfessor C: I think it 's fine .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: Yeah . Right , n s you may be {disfmarker} you may not be like everyone else in {disfmarker} in Berkeley ,\nGrad E: Yeah . Yeah .\nGrad F: but that 's OK .\nGrad E: I mean , we {disfmarker} we {disfmarker} we sort of thought we were getting away with , uh {disfmarker} with , a p\nGrad F: Uh , we don't mind either , so {disfmarker}\nGrad E: I mean , this is not reverting to the X - bar theory of {disfmarker} of phrase structure .\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad E: But , uh ,\nGrad F: Right .\nGrad E: I just know that this is {disfmarker} Like , we didn't originally have in mind that , uh {disfmarker} that verbs would subcategorize for a particular sort of form .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: But they do .\nGrad E: Um , but they does .\nGrad F: Well , there 's an alternative to this\nGrad E: At least in English .\nGrad F: which is , um {disfmarker} The question was did we want directed motion ,\nProfessor C: Yeah .\nGrad F: which is an argument structure construction {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: did we want it to worry about , um , anything more than the fact that it , you know , has semantic {disfmarker} You know , it 's sort of frame - based construction . So one option that , you know , Keith had mentioned also was like , well if you have more abstract constructions such as subject , predicate , basically things like grammatical relations ,\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: those could intersect with these in such a way that subject , predicate , or subject , predicate , subject , verb , ob you know , verb object would require that those things that f fill a subject and object are NOM expressions .\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad F: And that would be a little bit cleaner in some way . But you know , for now , I mean ,\nProfessor C: Yeah . But it {disfmarker} y y it 's {disfmarker} yeah , just moving it {disfmarker} moving the c the cons the constraints around .\nGrad F: uh , you know . M moving it to another place , right .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nProfessor C: OK , so that 's {disfmarker}\nGrad F: But there does {disfmarker} basically , the point is there has to be that constraint somewhere , right ?\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad F: So , yeah .\nProfessor C: And so that was the {disfmarker}\nGrad F: Robert 's not happy now ?\nGrad A: No !\nGrad F: Oh , OK .\nProfessor C: OK , and sort of going with that is that the designatum also now is a pair .\nGrad F: Yes .\nProfessor C: Instead of just the meaning .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: And that aside from some terminology , that 's basically it .\nGrad F: Right .\nProfessor C: I just want to b I 'm {disfmarker} I 'm asking .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: Yep .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: Yeah , um , the un sort of the un - addressed questions in this , um , definitely would for instance be semantic constraints we talked about .\nProfessor C: Yeah .\nGrad F: Here are just bindings but , right ? we might want to introduce mental spaces {disfmarker} You know , there 's all these things that we don't {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: The whole {disfmarker} the mental space thing is clearly not here .\nGrad F: Right ? So there 's going to be some extra {disfmarker} you know , definitely other notation we 'll need for that which we skip for now .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: By the way , I do want to get on that as soon as Robert gets back .\nGrad F: Uh Yeah .\nProfessor C: So , uh , the {disfmarker} the mental space thing .\nGrad F: OK .\nProfessor C: Um , obviously , {vocalsound} construal is a b is a b is a big component of that\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: so this probably not worth trying to do anything till he gets back . But sort of as soon as he gets back I think um , we ought to {disfmarker}\nGrad F: Mm - hmm . Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: So what 's the {disfmarker} what 's the time frame ? I forgot again when you 're going away for how long ?\nGrad A: Just , uh , as a {disfmarker} sort of a mental bridge , I 'm not {disfmarker} I 'm skipping fourth of July . So , uh , {vocalsound} right afterwards I 'm back .\nGrad E: OK . OK .\nGrad F: What ? You 're missing like the premier American holiday ? What 's the point of spending a year here ?\nGrad A: Uh , I 've had it often enough .\nGrad F: So , anyway .\nGrad B: Well he w he went to college here .\nGrad F: Oh , yeah , I forgot . Oops . {comment} Sorry .\nProfessor C: Yeah .\nGrad F: OK .\nProfessor C: And furthermore it 's well worth missing .\nGrad F: Not in California .\nGrad E: Yes .\nGrad F: Yeah , that 's true . I like {disfmarker} I {disfmarker} I like spending fourth of July in other countries , {vocalsound} whenever I can .\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad F: Um {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: OK , so that 's great .\nGrad F: Construal , OK , so {disfmarker} Oh , so there was one question that came out . I hate this thing . Sorry . Um , which is , so something like \" past \" which i you know , we think is a very simple {disfmarker} uh , we 've often just stuck it in as a feature ,\nProfessor C: Right . Right .\nGrad F: you know , \" oh , {pause} this event takes place before speech time \" , {comment} OK , is what this means . Um , it 's often thought of as {disfmarker} it is also considered a mental space ,\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad F: you know , by , you know , lots of people around here .\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad F: So there 's this issue of well sometimes there are really exotic explicit space builders that say \" in France , blah - blah - blah \" ,\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: and you have to build up {disfmarker} you ha you would imagine that would require you , you know , to be very specific about the machinery , whereas past is a very conventionalized one and we sort of know what it means but it {disfmarker} we doesn't {disfmarker} don't necessarily want to , you know , unload all the notation every time we see that it 's past tense .\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad F: So , you know , we could think of our {disfmarker} uh , just like X - schema \" walk \" refers to this complicated structure , past refers to , you know , a certain configuration of this thing with respect to it .\nProfessor C: I think that 's exactly right .\nGrad F: So {disfmarker} so we 're kind of like having our cake and eating it {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: Yeah .\nGrad F: you know , having it both ways , right ?\nProfessor C: Yeah . {pause} No , I think {disfmarker} I think that i we 'll have to see how it works out when we do the details\nGrad F: So , i i Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: but my intuition would be that that 's right .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm . Yeah , OK .\nGrad A: Do you want to do the same for space ?\nGrad F: Wha - sorry ?\nGrad A: Space ?\nGrad F: Space ?\nGrad A: Here ? Now ?\nGrad F: Oh , oh , oh , oh , instead of just time ?\nGrad A: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: Yeah , yeah , yeah . Same thing . So there are very conventionalized like deictic ones , right ? And then I think for other spaces that you introduce , you could just attach y whatever {disfmarker}\nGrad A: Hmm .\nGrad F: You could build up an appropriately {disfmarker} uh , appropriate structure according to the l the sentence .\nProfessor C: Yeah .\nGrad A: Hmm , well this {disfmarker} this basically would involve everything you can imagine to fit under your C dot something {disfmarker}\nGrad E: N\nGrad A: you know , where {disfmarker} where it 's contextually dependent ,\nGrad F: Yeah . Right .\nGrad A: \" what is now , what was past ,\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad A: what is in the future , where is this , what is here , what is there , what is {disfmarker} \"\nGrad F: Mm - hmm . Yeah . So time and space . Um , we 'll {disfmarker} we 'll get that on the other side a little , like very minimally . There 's a sort of there 's a slot for setting time and setting place .\nProfessor C: Good .\nGrad F: And you know , you could imagine for both of those are absolute things you could say about the time and place , and then there are many in more interestingly , linguistically anyway , {comment} there are relative things that , you know , you relate the event in time and space to where you are now . If there 's something a lot more complicated like , or so {disfmarker} hypothetical or whatever , then you have to do your job ,\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: like or somebody 's job anyway .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: I 'm gonna point to {disfmarker} at random .\nGrad E: Yeah . I mean , I 'm {disfmarker} I 'm s curious about how much of the mental {disfmarker} I mean , I 'm not sure that the formalism , sort of the grammatical side of things , {comment} is gonna have that much going on in terms of the mental space stuff . You know , um , basically all of these so - called space builders that are in the sentence are going to sort of {disfmarker} I think of it as , sort of giving you the coordinates of , you know {disfmarker} assuming that at any point in discourse there 's the possibility that we could be sort of talking about a bunch of different world scenarios , whatever , and the speaker 's supposed to be keeping track of those . The , um {disfmarker} the construction that you actually get is just gonna sort of give you a cue as to which one of those that you 've already got going , um , you 're supposed to add structure to .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: So \" in France , uh , Watergate wouldn't have hurt Nixon \" or something like that . Um , well , you say , \" alright , I 'm supposed to add some structure to my model of this hypothetical past France universe \" or something like that . The information in the sentence tells you that much but it doesn't tell you like exactly what it {disfmarker} what the point of doing so is . So for example , depending on the linguistic con uh , context it could be {disfmarker} like the question is for example , what does \" Watergate \" refer to there ? Does it , you know {disfmarker} does it refer to , um {disfmarker} if you just hear that sentence cold , the assumption is that when you say \" Watergate \" you 're referring to \" a Watergate - like scandal as we might imagine it happening in France \" . But in a different context , \" oh , you know , if Nixon had apologized right away it wouldn't {disfmarker} you know , Watergate wouldn't have hurt him so badly in the US and in France it wouldn't have hurt him at all \" . Now we 're s now that \" Watergate \" {disfmarker} we 're now talking about the real one ,\nGrad F: They 're real , right .\nGrad E: and the \" would \" sort of {disfmarker} it 's a sort of different dimension of hypothe - theticality , right ? We 're not saying {disfmarker} What 's hypothetical about this world .\nGrad F: I see {disfmarker} right .\nGrad E: In the first case , hypothetically we 're imagining that Watergate happened in France .\nGrad F: Hmm .\nGrad E: In the second case we 're imagining hypothetically that Nixon had apologized right away\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: or something . Right ?\nGrad F: Right .\nGrad E: So a lot of this isn't happening at the grammatical level .\nProfessor C: Correct .\nGrad E: Uh , um , and so {disfmarker}\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: I don't know where that sits then ,\nGrad A: Hmm .\nGrad E: sort of the idea of sorting out what the person meant .\nGrad F: It seems like , um , the grammatical things such as the auxiliaries that you know introduce these conditionals , whatever , give you sort of the {disfmarker} the most basi\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: th those we {disfmarker} I think we can figure out what the possibilities are , right ?\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: There are sort of a relatively limited number . And then how they interact with some extra thing like \" in France \" or \" if such - and - such \" , that 's like there are certain ways that they c they can {disfmarker}\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: You know , one is a more specific version of the general pattern that the grammat grammar gives you .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: I think . But , you know , whatever ,\nProfessor C: Yeah , in the short run all we need is a enough mechanism on the form side to get things going .\nGrad F: we {disfmarker} we 're {disfmarker}\nGrad E: Mm - hmm . Yeah .\nProfessor C: Uh , I {disfmarker} uh , you {disfmarker} you {disfmarker}\nGrad E: But the whole point of {disfmarker} the whole point of what Fauconnier and Turner have to say about , uh , mental spaces , and blending , and all that stuff is that you don't really get that much out of the sentence . You know , there 's not that much information contained in the sentence . It just says , \" Here . Add this structure to this space . \" and exactly what that means for the overall ongoing interpretation is quite open . An individual sentence could mean a hundred different things depending on , quote , \" what the space configuration is at the time of utterance \" .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm . Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: And so somebody 's gonna have to be doing a whole lot of work but not me , I think .\nProfessor C: Well {disfmarker} I think that 's right . Oh , I {disfmarker} yeah , I , uh , uh {disfmarker} I think that 's {disfmarker} Not k I th I don't think it 's completely right . I mean , in fact a sentence examples you gave in f did constrain the meaning b the form did constrain the meaning ,\nGrad E: Yeah .\nProfessor C: and so , um , it isn't , uh {disfmarker}\nGrad E: Sure , but like what {disfmarker} what was the point of saying that sentence about Nixon and France ? That is not {disfmarker} there is nothing about that in the {disfmarker} in the sentence really .\nGrad F: That 's OK . We usually don't know the point of the sentence at all .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: But we know what it 's trying to say .\nProfessor C: Yeah .\nGrad E: Y yeah .\nGrad F: We {disfmarker} we know that it 's {disfmarker} what predication it 's setting up .\nProfessor C: But {disfmarker} but {disfmarker} bottom line , I agree with you ,\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: That 's all .\nProfessor C: that {disfmarker} that {disfmarker} that we 're not expecting much out of the , uh f\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: Purely linguistic cues , right ?\nProfessor C: uh , the purely form cues , yeah .\nGrad F: So .\nProfessor C: And , um {disfmarker} I mean , you 're {disfmarker} you 're the linguist\nGrad F: Mmm .\nProfessor C: but , uh , it seems to me that th these {disfmarker} we {disfmarker} we {disfmarker} you know , we 've talked about maybe a half a dozen linguistics theses in the last few minutes or something .\nGrad E: Yeah , yeah .\nProfessor C: Yeah , I mean {disfmarker}\nGrad E: Yeah . Oh , yeah .\nProfessor C: uh , I {disfmarker} I mean , that {disfmarker} that 's my feeling that {disfmarker} that these are really hard uh , problems that decide exactly what {disfmarker} what 's going on .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm . Yeah . Yeah .\nProfessor C: OK .\nGrad F: OK , so , um , one other thing I just want to point out is there 's a lot of confusion about the terms like \" profile , designate , focus \" , et cetera , et cetera .\nProfessor C: Uh , right , right , right .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: Um , for now I 'm gonna say like \" profile \" 's often used {disfmarker} like two uses that come to mind immediately . One is in the traditional like semantic highlight of one element with respect to everything else . So \" hypotenuse \" , you profiled this guy against the background of the {pause} right t right triangle .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: OK . And the second use , um , is in FrameNet. It 's slightly different . Oh , I was asking Hans about this . They use it to really mean , um , this {disfmarker} in a frame th this is {disfmarker} the profiles on the {disfmarker} these are the ones that are required . So they have to be there or expressed in some way . Which {disfmarker} which {disfmarker} I 'm not saying one and two are mutually exclusive but they 're {disfmarker} they 're different meanings .\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: So the closest thing {disfmarker} so I was thinking about how it relates to this notation . For us , um {disfmarker} OK , so how is it {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: Does that {disfmarker} Is that really what they mean in {disfmarker} in {disfmarker}\nGrad F: so \" designate \" {disfmarker} FrameNet ?\nProfessor C:  I didn't know that .\nGrad F: FrameNet ? Yeah , yeah . I {disfmarker} I mean , I {disfmarker} I was a little bit surprised about it too .\nProfessor C: Yeah .\nGrad F: I knew that {disfmarker} I thought that that would be something like {disfmarker} there 's another term that I 've heard for that thing\nProfessor C: Right , OK .\nGrad F: but they {disfmarker} I mean {disfmarker} uh , well , at least Hans says they use it that way . And {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: Well , I 'll check .\nGrad F: and may maybe he 's wrong . Anyway , so I think the {disfmarker} the \" designate \" that we have in terms of meaning is really the \" highlight this thing with respect to everything else \" . OK ?\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad F: So this is what {disfmarker} what it means . But the second one seems to be useful but we might not need a notation for it ? We don't have a notation for it but we might want one . So for example we 've talked about if you 're talking about the lexical item \" walk \" , you know it 's an action . Well , it also has this idea {disfmarker} it carries along with it the idea of an actor or somebody 's gonna do the walking . Or if you talk about an adjective \" red \" , it carries along the idea of the thing that has the property of having color red . So we used to use the notation \" with \" for this\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad F: and I think that 's closest to their second one . So I d don't yet know , I have no commitment , as to whether we need it . It might be {disfmarker} it 's the kind of thing that w a parser might want to think about whether we require {disfmarker} you know , these things are like it 's semantically part of it {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: N no , no . Well , uh , th critically they 're not required syntactically . Often they 're pres presu presupposed and all that sort of stuff .\nGrad F: Right . Right , right . Yeah , um , definitely . So , um , \" in \" was a good example . If you walk \" in \" , like well , in what ?\nProfessor C: Right , there 's {disfmarker}\nGrad F: You know , like you have to have the {disfmarker} {comment} So {disfmarker} so it 's only semantically is it {disfmarker} it is still required , say , by simulation time though\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad F: to have something . So it 's that {disfmarker} I meant the idea of like that {disfmarker} the semantic value is filled in by sim simulation . I don't know if that 's something we need to spa to {disfmarker} to like say ever as part of the requirement ? {disfmarker} or the construction ? or not . We 'll {disfmarker} we 'll again defer .\nProfessor C: Or {disfmarker} I mean , or {disfmarker} or , uh so the {disfmarker}\nGrad F: Have it construed ,\nProfessor C: Yeah , yeah .\nGrad F: is that the idea ? Just point at Robert . Whenever I 'm confused just point to him .\nProfessor C: Right . It 's {disfmarker} it 's his thesis , right ?\nGrad F: You tell me .\nProfessor C: Anyway ,\nGrad F: OK .\nProfessor C: right , yeah , w this is gonna be a b you 're right , this is a bit of in a mess and we still have emphasis as well , or stress , or whatever .\nGrad F: OK , well we 'll get , uh uh , I {disfmarker} we have thoughts about those as well .\nProfessor C: Yeah . Great .\nGrad F: Um , the I w I would just s some of this is just like my {disfmarker} you know , by fiat . I 'm going to say , this is how we use these terms . I don't - you know , there 's lots of different ways in the world that people use it .\nProfessor C: I {disfmarker} that 's fine .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: I think that , um , the other terms that are related are like focus and stress .\nProfessor C: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: So , s I think that the way I {disfmarker} we would like to think , uh , I think is focus is something that comes up in , I mean , lots of {disfmarker} basically this is the information structure .\nProfessor C: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: OK , it 's like {disfmarker} uh , it 's not {disfmarker} it might be that there 's a syntactic , uh , device that you use to indicate focus or that there are things like , you know , I think Keith was telling me , {comment} things toward the end of the sentence , post - verbal , tend to be the focused {disfmarker} focused element ,\nGrad E: Mmm .\nGrad F: the new information . You know , if I {disfmarker} \" I walked into the room \" , you {disfmarker} tend to think that , whatever , \" into the room \" is sort of like the more focused kind of thing .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm . Yeah .\nGrad F: And when you , uh , uh , you have stress on something that might be , you know , a cue that the stressed element , or for instance , the negated element is kind of related to information structure . So that 's like the new {disfmarker} the sort of like import or whatever of {disfmarker} of this thing . Uh , so {disfmarker} so I think that 's kind of nice to keep \" focus \" being an information structure term . \" Stress \" {disfmarker} I th and then there are different kinds of focus that you can bring to it . So , um , like \" stress \" , th stress is kind of a pun on {disfmarker} you might have like {disfmarker} whatever , like , um , accent kind of stress .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: And that 's just a {disfmarker} uh , w we 'll want to distinguish stress as a form device . You know , like , oh , high volume or whatever .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: Um , t uh , and distinguish that from it 's effect which is , \" Oh , the kind of focus we have is we 're emphasizing this value often as opposed to other values \" , right ? So focus carries along a scope . Like if you 're gonna focus on this thing and you wanna know {disfmarker} it sort of evokes all the other possibilities that it wasn't .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: Um , so my classic {disfmarker} my now - classic example of saying , \" Oh , he did go to the meeting ? \" ,\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: that was my way of saying {disfmarker} as opposed to , you know , \" Oh , he didn't g \" or \" There was a meeting ? \"\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: I think that was the example that was caught on by the linguists immediately .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: And so , um , the {disfmarker} like if you said he {disfmarker} you know , there 's all these different things that if you put stress on a different part of it then you 're , c focusing , whatever , on , uh {disfmarker}\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: \" he walked to the meeting \" as opposed to \" he ran \" , or \" he did walk to the meeting \" as opposed to \" he didn't walk \" . You know ,\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: so we need to have a notation for that which , um , I think that 's still in progress . So , sort of I 'm still working it out . But it did {disfmarker} one {disfmarker} one implication it does f have for the other side , which we 'll get to in a minute is that I couldn't think of a good way to say \" here are the possible things that you could focus on \" , cuz it seems like any entity in any sentence , you know , or any meaning component of anyth you know {disfmarker} all the possible meanings you could have , any of them could be the subject of focus .\nProfessor C: Mmm .\nGrad F: But I think one {disfmarker} the one thing you can schematize is the kind of focus , right ? So for instance , you could say it 's the {disfmarker} the tense on this as opposed to , um , the {disfmarker} the action . OK . Or it 's {disfmarker} uh , it 's an identity thing or a contrast with other things , or stress this value as opposed to other things . So , um , it 's {disfmarker} it is kind of like a profile {disfmarker} profile - background thing but I {disfmarker} I can't think of like the limited set of possible meanings that you would {disfmarker} that you would focu\nGrad E: Light up with focus , yeah .\nGrad F: light {disfmarker} highlight as opposed to other ones . So it has some certain complications for the , uh , uh {disfmarker} later on . Li - I mean , uh , the best thing I can come up with is that information has a list of focused elements . For instance , you {disfmarker} Oh , one other type that I forgot to mention is like query elements and that 's probably relevant for the like \" where is \" , you know , \" the castle \" kind of thing ?\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: Because you might want to say that , um , location or cert certain WH words bring {disfmarker} you know , sort of automatically focus in a , you know , \" I don't know the identity of this thing \" kind of way on certain elements . So . OK . Anyway . So that 's onl there are {disfmarker} there are many more things that are uncl that are sort of like a little bit unstable about the notation but it 's most {disfmarker} I think it 's {disfmarker} this is , you know , the current {disfmarker} current form . Other things we didn't {vocalsound} totally deal with , um ,\nGrad E: Oh , there 's a bunch .\nGrad F: well , we 've had a lot of other stuff that Keith and I have them working on in terms of like how you deal with like an adjective .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: You know , a {disfmarker} a nominal expression .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: And , um , I mean , we should have put an example of this and we could do that later .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: But I think the not inherently like the general principles still work though , that , um , we can have constructions that have sort of constituent structure in that there is like , you know , for instance , one {disfmarker} Uh , you know , they {disfmarker} they have constituents , right ? So you can like nest things when you need to , but they can also overlap in a sort of flatter way . So if you don't have like a lot of grammar experience , then like this {disfmarker} this might , you know , be a little o opaque . But , you know , we have the {pause} properties of dependency grammars and some properties of constituents {disfmarker} constituent - based grammar . So that 's {disfmarker} I think that 's sort of the main thing we wanted to aim for\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: and so far it 's worked out OK .\nProfessor C: Good .\nGrad F: So . OK .\nGrad A: I can say two things about the f\nGrad F: Yes .\nGrad A: Maybe you want to forget stress . This {disfmarker} my f\nGrad F: As a word ?\nGrad A: No , as {disfmarker} as {disfmarker} Just don't {disfmarker} don't think about it .\nGrad F: As a {disfmarker} What 's that ?\nGrad A: If {disfmarker}\nGrad F: Sorry .\nGrad A: canonically speaking you can {disfmarker} if you look at a {disfmarker} a curve over sentence , you can find out where a certain stress is and say , \" hey , that 's my focus exponent . \"\nGrad E: Right .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad A: It doesn't tell you anything what the focus is . If it 's just that thing ,\nGrad F: Mm - hmm . Or the constituent that it falls in .\nGrad A: a little bit more or the whole phrase .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad A: Um {disfmarker}\nGrad F: You mean t forget about stress , the form cue ?\nGrad A: The form bit\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad A: because , uh , as a form cue , um , not even trained experts can always {disfmarker} well , they can tell you where the focus exponent is sometimes .\nGrad F: OK .\nGrad A: And that 's also mostly true for read speech . In {disfmarker} in real speech , um , people may put stress . It 's so d context dependent on what was there before , phrase ba breaks , um , restarts .\nGrad F: Yeah . Mm - hmm .\nGrad A: It 's just , um {disfmarker} it 's absurd . It 's complicated .\nGrad F: OK ,\nGrad A: And all {disfmarker}\nGrad E: Yeah , I mean , I {disfmarker} I 'm sort of inclined to say let 's worry about specifying the information structure focus of the sentence\nGrad F: I believe you , yeah .\nGrad E: and then ,\nGrad F: Mm - hmm . Ways that you can get it come from th\nGrad E: hhh , {comment} the phonology component can handle actually assigning an intonation contour to that .\nGrad F: right .\nGrad E: You know , I mean , later on we 'll worry about exactly how {disfmarker}\nGrad A: Or {disfmarker} or map from the contour to {disfmarker} to what the focus exponent is .\nGrad E: y Yeah . Exactly .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: But figure out how the {disfmarker}\nGrad A: But , uh , if you don't know what you 're {disfmarker} what you 're focus is then you 're {disfmarker} you 're hopeless - uh - ly lost anyways ,\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: Right . That 's fine , yeah . Mm - hmm .\nGrad A: and the only way of figuring out what that is , {vocalsound} is , um , by sort of generating all the possible alternatives to each focused element , decide which one in that context makes sense and which one doesn't .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad A: And then you 're left with a couple three . So , you know , again , that 's something that h humans can do ,\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad A: um , but far outside the scope of {disfmarker} of any {disfmarker} anything . So . You know . It 's {disfmarker}\nGrad F: OK . Well , uh , yeah , I wouldn't have assumed that it 's an easy problem in {disfmarker} in absence of all the oth\nGrad A: u u\nGrad F: you need all the other information I guess .\nGrad A: But it 's {disfmarker} it 's {disfmarker} what it {disfmarker} uh , it 's pretty easy to put it in the formalism , though . I mean , because\nGrad F: Yeah .\nGrad A: you can just say whatever stuff , \" i is the container being focused or the {disfmarker} the entire whatever , both , and so forth . \"\nGrad F: Mm - hmm , mm - hmm .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: Yeah . Exactly . So the sort of effect of it is something we want to be able to capture .\nProfessor C: Yeah , so b b but I think the poi I 'm not sure I understand but here 's what I th think is going on . That if we do the constructions right when a particular construction matches , it {disfmarker} the fact that it matches , does in fact specify the focus .\nGrad F: W uh , I 'm not sure about that .\nProfessor C: OK .\nGrad F: Or it might limit {disfmarker} it cert certainly constrains the possibilities of focus .\nProfessor C: Uh {disfmarker} k uh , at at the very least it constrai\nGrad F: I think that 's {disfmarker} that 's , th that 's certainly true . And depending on the construction it may or may not f specify the focus , right ?\nProfessor C: Oh , uh , for sure , yes . There are constrai yeah , it 's not every {disfmarker} but there are constructions , uh , where you t explicitly take into account those considerations\nGrad F: Yeah . Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: that you need to take into account in order to decide which {disfmarker} what is being focused .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad A: Mm - hmm . So we talked about that a little bit this morning . \" John is on the bus , not Nancy . \"\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad A: So that 's {disfmarker} focuses on John .\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad F: Hmm .\nGrad A: \" John is on the bus and not on the train . \"\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad A: \" John is on the bus \" versus \" John is on the train . \"\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad F: Right .\nGrad A: And \" John is on the bus \" versus \" was \" , and e\nGrad F: Is on . \" John is on the bus \" . Yeah . Yeah .\nGrad A: \" it 's the bu \" so e\nProfessor C: Right . Yeah , all {disfmarker} all of those .\nGrad A: All of these\nProfessor C: Yeah .\nGrad F: Right .\nGrad A: and will we have {disfmarker} u is it all the same constructions ? Just with a different foc focus constituent ?\nGrad F: Yeah , I would say that argument structure in terms of like the main like sort of ,\nGrad A: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: I don't know {disfmarker} the fact that you can get it without any stress and you have some {disfmarker} whatever is predicated anyway should be the same set of constructions . So that 's why I was talking about overlapping constructions . So , then you have a separate thing that picks out , you know , stress on something relative to everything else .\nProfessor C: Yeah . So , the question is actually {disfmarker}\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: oh , I 'm sorry ,\nGrad F: And it would {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: go ahead ,\nGrad F: yeah ,\nProfessor C: finish .\nGrad F: and it w and that would have to {disfmarker} uh it might be ambiguous as , uh , whether it picks up that element , or the phrase , or something like that . But it 's still is limited possibility .\nGrad A: Hmm .\nGrad F: So that should , you know , interact with {disfmarker} it should overlap with whatever other construction is there .\nGrad A: Yeah .\nProfessor C: S s the question is , do we have a way on the other page , uh , when we get to the s semantic side , of saying what the stressed element was , or stressed phrase , or something .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm . Well , so that 's why I was saying how {disfmarker} since I couldn't think of an easy like limited way of doing it , um , all I can say is that information structure has a focused slot\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad F: and I think that should be able to refer to {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: So that 's down at the bottom here when we get over there . OK .\nGrad F: Yeah , and , infer {disfmarker} and I don't have {disfmarker} I don't have a great way or great examples\nProfessor C: I 'll - I 'll wait . OK .\nGrad F: but I think that {disfmarker} something like that is probably gonna be , uh , more {disfmarker} more what we have to do .\nGrad A: Hmm .\nProfessor C: OK .\nGrad F: But , um ,\nGrad A: So\nGrad F: OK , that was one comment . And you had another one ?\nGrad A: Yeah , well the {disfmarker} once you know what the focus is the {disfmarker} everything else is background . How about \" topic - comment \" that 's the other side of information .\nGrad F: How about what ?\nGrad A: Topic - comment .\nGrad F: Yeah , so that was the other thing . And so I didn't realize it before . It 's like , \" oh ! \" It was an epiphany that it {disfmarker} you know , topic and focus are a contrast set . So topic is {disfmarker} Topic - focused seems to me like , um , background profile , OK , or a landmark trajector , or some something like that . There 's {disfmarker} there 's definitely , um , that kind of thing going on .\nGrad A: Mmm .\nGrad F: Now I don't know whether {disfmarker} I n I don't have as many great examples of like topic - indicating constructions on like focus , right ? Um , topic {disfmarker} it seems kind of {disfmarker} you know , I think that might be an ongoing kind of thing .\nGrad A: Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: Japanese has this though . You know .\nGrad F: Topic marker ?\nGrad A: Yeah .\nGrad E: Yeah , that 's what \" wa \" is , uh , just to mark which thing is the topic .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: It doesn't always have to be the subject .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm . Right . So again , information structure has a topic slot . And , you know , I stuck it in thinking that we might use it .\nGrad A: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: Um , I think I stuck it in .\nProfessor C: Yep , it 's there .\nGrad F: Um , and one thing that I didn't do consistently , um , is {disfmarker} when we get there , is like indicate what kind of thing fits into every role . I think I have an idea of what it should be but th you know , so far we 've been getting away with like either a type constraint or , um , you know , whatever . I forg it 'll be a frame . You know , it 'll be {disfmarker} it 'll be another predication or it 'll be , um , I don't know , some value from {disfmarker} from some something , some variable and scope or something like that , or a slot chain based on a variable and scope . OK , so well that 's {disfmarker} should we flip over to the other side officially then ?\nGrad A: Mm - hmm , hmm .\nGrad E: OK , side one .\nGrad F: I keep , uh , like , pointing forward to it . Yeah . Now we 'll go back to s OK , so this doesn't include something which mi mi may have some effect on {disfmarker} on it , which is , um , the discourse situation context record , right ? So I didn't {disfmarker} I {disfmarker} I meant just like draw a line and like , you know , you also have , uh , some tracking of what was going on .\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad F: And sort of {disfmarker} this is a big scale comment before I , you know , look into the details of this . But for instance you could imagine instead of having {disfmarker} I {disfmarker} I changed the name of {disfmarker} um it used to be \" entities \" . So you see it 's \" scenario \" , \" referent \" and \" discourse segment \" . And \" scenario \" is essentially what kind of {disfmarker} what 's the basic predication , what event happened . And actually it 's just a list of various slots from which you would draw {disfmarker} draw in order to paint your picture , a bunch of frames , bi and bindings , right ? Um , and obviously there are other ones that are not included here , general cultural frames and general like , uh , other action f\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: you know , specific X - schema frames . OK , whatever . The middle thing used to be \" entities \" because you could imagine it should be like really a list where here was various information . And this is intended to be grammatically specifiable information about a referent {disfmarker} uh , you know , about some entity that you were going to talk about . So \" Harry walked into the room \" , \" Harry \" and \" room \" , you know , the room {disfmarker} th but they would be represented in this list somehow . And it could also have for instance , it has this category slot . Um , it should be either category or in or instance . Basically , it could be a pointer to ontology . So that everything you know about this could be {disfmarker} could be drawn in . But the important things for grammatical purposes are for {disfmarker} things like number , gender , um {disfmarker} ki the ones I included here are slightly arbitrary but you could imagine that , um , you need to figure out wheth if it 's a group whether , um , some event is happening , linear time , linear spaces , like , you know , are {disfmarker} are they doing something serially or is it like , um , uh I 'm {disfmarker} I 'm not sure . Because this partly came from , uh , Talmy 's schema and I 'm not sure we 'll need all of these actually . But {disfmarker} Um , and then the \" status \" I used was like , again , in some languages , you know , like for instance in child language you might distinguish between different status . So , th the {disfmarker} the big com and {disfmarker} and finally \" discourse segment \" is about {vocalsound} sort of speech - act - y information structure - y , like utterance - specific kinds of things . So the comment I was going to make about , um , changing entity {disfmarker} the entity 's block to reference is that {vocalsound} you can imagine your discourse like situation context , you have a set of entities that you 're sort of referring to . And you might {disfmarker} that might be sort of a general , I don't know , database of all the things in this discourse that you could refer to . And I changed to \" reference \" cuz I would say , for a particular utterance you have particular referring expressions in it . And those are the ones that you get information about that you stick in here . For instance , I know it 's going to be plural . I know it 's gonna be feminine or something like that . And {disfmarker} and these could actually just point to , you know , the {disfmarker} the ID in my other list of enti active entities , right ? So , um , uh , th there 's {disfmarker} there 's all this stuff about discourse status . We 've talked about . I almost listed \" discourse status \" as a slot where you could say it 's active . You know , there 's this , um , hierarchy {disfmarker} uh there 's a schematization of , you know , things can be active or they can be , um , accessible , inaccessible .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: It was the one that , you know , Keith , um , emailed to us once , to some of us , not all of us . And the thing is that that {disfmarker} I noticed that that , um , list was sort of discourse dependent . It was like in this particular set , s you know , instance , it has been referred to recently or it hasn't been ,\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: or this is something that 's like in my world knowledge but not active .\nProfessor C: This {disfmarker} Uh {disfmarker} yeah , well there {disfmarker} there seems to be context properties .\nGrad F: So .\nProfessor C: Yeah .\nGrad F: Yeah , they 're contex and for instance , I used to have a location thing there but actually that 's a property of the situation . And it 's again , time , you know {disfmarker} at cert certain points things are located , you know , near or far from you\nProfessor C: Well , uh , uh , this is recursive\nGrad F: and {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: cuz until we do the uh , mental space story , we 're not quite sure {disfmarker} {comment} Th - th\nGrad F: Yeah .\nProfessor C: which is fine . We 'll just {disfmarker} we 'll j\nGrad F: Yeah , yeah . So some of these are , uh {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: we just don't know yet .\nGrad F: Right . So I {disfmarker} so for now I thought , well maybe I 'll just have in this list the things that are relevant to this particular utterance , right ? Everything else here is utterance - specific . Um , and I left the slot , \" predications \" , open because you can have , um , things like \" the guy I know from school \" .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: Or , you know , like your referring expression might be constrained by certain like unbounded na amounts of prep you know , predications that you might make . And it 's unclear whether {disfmarker} I mean , you could just have in your scenario , \" here are some extra few things that are true \" , right ?\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: And then you could just sort of not have this slot here . Right ? You 're {disfmarker} but {disfmarker} but it 's used for identification purposes .\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: So it 's {disfmarker} it 's a little bit different from just saying \" all these things are true from my utterance \" .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: Um .\nGrad E: Right , \" this guy I know from school came for dinner \" does not mean , um , \" there 's a guy , I know him from school , and he came over for dinner \" . That 's not the same effect .\nGrad F: Yeah , it 's a little bit {disfmarker} it 's a little bit different . Right ? So {disfmarker} Or maybe that 's like a restrictive , non - restrictive {disfmarker}\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: you know , it 's like it gets into that kind of thing for {disfmarker} um , but maybe I 'm mixing , you know {disfmarker} this is kind of like the final result after parsing the sentence .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: So you might imagine that the information you pass to , you know {disfmarker} in identifying a particular referent would be , \" oh , some {disfmarker} \" you know , \" it 's a guy and it 's someone I know from school \" .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: So maybe that would , you know , be some intermediate structure that you would pass into the disc to the , whatever , construal engine or whatever , discourse context , to find {disfmarker} you know , either create this reference ,\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: in which case it 'd be created here , and {disfmarker} you know , so {disfmarker} so you could imagine that this might not {disfmarker} So , uh , I 'm uncommitted to a couple of these things .\nGrad A: But {disfmarker} to make it m precise at least in my mind , uh , it 's not precise .\nGrad F: Um .\nGrad A: So \" house \" is gender neuter ? In reality\nGrad F: Um , it could be in {disfmarker}\nGrad A: or in {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: Semantically .\nGrad A: semantically .\nGrad F: semantically , yeah . Yeah .\nGrad A: So {disfmarker}\nGrad F: So it uh , uh , a table . You know , a thing that c doesn't have a gender . So . Uh , it could be that {disfmarker} I mean , maybe you 'd {disfmarker} maybe not all these {disfmarker} I mean , I wou I would say that I tried to keep slots here that were potentially relevant to most {disfmarker} most things .\nGrad A: No , just to make sure that we {disfmarker} everybody that 's {disfmarker} completely agreed that it {disfmarker} it has nothing to do with , uh , form .\nGrad F: Yeah . OK , that is semantic as opposed to {disfmarker} Yeah . Yeah . That 's right . Um .\nGrad A: Then \" predications \" makes sense to {disfmarker} to have it open for something like , uh , accessibility or not .\nGrad F: S so again {disfmarker} Open to various things .\nGrad A: Yeah .\nGrad F: Right . OK , so . Let 's see . So maybe having made that big sca sort of like large scale comment , should I just go through each of these slots {disfmarker} uh , each of these blocks , um , a little bit ?\nGrad E: Sure .\nGrad F: Um , mostly the top one is sort of image schematic . And just a note , which was that , um {disfmarker} s so when we actually ha so for instance , um , some of them seem more inherently static , OK , like a container or sort of support - ish . And others are a little bit seemingly inherently dynamic like \" source , path , goal \" is often thought of that way or \" force \" , or something like that . But in actual fact , I think that they 're intended to be sort of neutral with respect to that . And different X - schemas use them in a way that 's either static or dynamic . So \" path \" , you could just be talking about the path between this and this .\nGrad E: Mmm .\nGrad F: And you know , \" container \" that you can go in and out . All of these things . And so , um , I think this came up when , uh , Ben and I were working with the Spaniards , um , the other day {disfmarker} the \" Spaniettes \" , as we {vocalsound} called them {disfmarker} um , to decide like how you want to split up , like , s image schematic contributions versus , like , X - schematic contributions . How do you link them up . And I think again , um , it 's gonna be something in the X - schema that tells you \" is this static or is this dynamic \" . So we definitely need {disfmarker} that sort of aspectual type gives you some of that . Um , that , you know , is it , uh , a state or is it a change of state , or is it a , um , action of some kind ?\nGrad A: Uh , i i i is there any meaning to when you have sort of parameters behind it and when you don't ?\nGrad F: Uh . Yeah .\nGrad A: Just means {disfmarker}\nGrad F: Oh , oh ! You mean , in the slot ?\nGrad A: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: Um , no , it 's like X - sc it 's {disfmarker} it 's like I was thinking of type constraints but X - schema , well it obviously has to be an X - schema . \" Agent \" , I mean , the {disfmarker} the performer of the X - schema , that s depends on the X - schema . You know , and I {disfmarker} in general it would probably be , you know {disfmarker}\nGrad E: So the difference is basically whether you thought it was obvious what the possible fillers were .\nGrad F: Yeah , basically .\nGrad A: Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: OK .\nGrad F: Um , \" aspectual type \" probably isn't obvious but I should have {disfmarker} So , I just neglected to stick something in . \" Perspective \" , \" actor \" , \" undergoer \" , \" observer \" , um ,\nGrad B: Mmm .\nGrad F: I think we 've often used \" agent \" , \" patient \" , obser\nGrad E: \" Whee ! \" That 's that one , right ?\nGrad F: Yeah , exactly . {vocalsound} Exactly . Um , and so one nice thing that , uh , we had talked about is this example {comment} of like , if you have a passive construction then one thing it does is ch you know {disfmarker} definitely , it is one way to {disfmarker} for you to , you know , specifically take the perspective of the undergoing kind of object . And so then we talked about , you know , whether well , does that specify topic as well ? Well , maybe there are other things . You know , now that it 's {disfmarker} subject is more like a topic . And now that , you know {disfmarker} Anyway . So . Sorry . I 'm gonna trail off on that one cuz it 's not that f important right now .\nProfessor C: N now , for the moment we just need the ability to l l write it down if {disfmarker} if somebody figured out what the rules were .\nGrad F: Um , To know how {disfmarker} Yeah . Yeah . Exactly .\nProfessor C: Yeah .\nGrad F: Um , some of these other ones , let 's see . So , uh , one thing I 'm uncertain about is how polarity interacts .\nProfessor C: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: So polarity , uh , is using for like action did not take place for instance . So by default it 'll be like \" true \" , I guess , you know , if you 're specifying events that did happen . You could imagine that you skip out this {disfmarker} you know , leave off this polarity , you know , not {disfmarker} don't have it here . And then have it part of the speech - act in some way .\nProfessor C: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: There 's some negation . But the reason why I left it in is cuz you might have a change of state , let 's say , where some state holds and then some state doesn't hold , and you 're just talking , you know {disfmarker} if you 're trying to have the nuts and bolts of simulation you need to know that , you know , whatever , the holder doesn't and {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: No , I th I think at this lev which is {disfmarker} it should be where you have it .\nGrad F: OK , it 's {disfmarker} so it 's {disfmarker} it 's {disfmarker} it 's fine where it is .\nProfessor C: I mean , how you get it may {disfmarker} may in will often involve the discourse\nGrad F: So , OK . May come from a few places .\nProfessor C: but {disfmarker} but {disfmarker} by the time you 're simulating you sh y you should know that .\nGrad F: Right . Right .\nGrad E: So , {vocalsound} I 'm still just really not clear on what I 'm looking at . The \" scenario \" box , like , what does that look like for an example ? Like , not all of these things are gonna be here .\nGrad F: Yeah .\nProfessor C: Correct .\nGrad E: This is just basically says\nGrad F: Mm - hmm . It 's a grab bag of {disfmarker}\nGrad E: \" part of what I 'm going to hand you is a whole bunch of s uh , schemas , image , and X - schemas . Here are some examples of the sorts of things you might have in there \" .\nGrad F: So that 's exactly what it is .\nGrad E: OK .\nGrad F: And for a particular instance which I will , you know , make an example of something , is that you might have an instance of container and path , let 's say , as part of your , you know , \" into \" you know , definition .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm . Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: So you would eventually have instances filled in with various {disfmarker} various values for all the different slots .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: And they 're bound up in , you know , their bindings and {disfmarker} and {disfmarker} and values .\nProfessor C: W it c\nGrad E: OK . Do you have to say about the binding in your {disfmarker} is there a slot in here for {disfmarker} that tells you how the bindings are done ?\nProfessor C: No , no , no . I {disfmarker} let 's see , I think we 're {disfmarker} we 're not {disfmarker} I don't think we have it quite right yet . So , uh , what this is ,\nGrad E: OK .\nProfessor C: let 's suppose for the moment it 's complete . OK , uh , then this says that when an analysis is finished , the whole analysis is finished , {comment} you 'll have as a result , uh , some s resulting s semspec for that utterance in context ,\nGrad E: OK . Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: which is made up entirely of these things and , uh , bindings among them . And bindings to ontology items .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: So that {disfmarker} that the who that this is the tool kit under whi out of which you can make a semantic specification .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm . Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: So that 's A . But B , which is more relevant to your life , is this is also the tool kit that is used in the semantic side of constructions .\nGrad E: OK . Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: So this is an that anything you have , in the party line , {comment} anything you have as the semantic side of constructions comes , from pieces of this {disfmarker} ignoring li\nGrad E: OK .\nProfessor C: I mean , in general , you ignore lots of it .\nGrad E: Right .\nProfessor C: But it 's got to be pieces of this along with constraints among them .\nGrad E: OK .\nProfessor C: Uh , so that the , you know , goal of the , uh uh , \" source , path , goal \" has to be the landmark of the conta you know , the interior of this container .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: Or whate whatever .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nProfessor C: So those constraints appear in constructions\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: but pretty much this is the full range of semantic structures available to you .\nGrad E: OK .\nGrad F: Except for \" cause \" , that I forgot . But anyway , there 's som some kind of causal structure for composite events .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nProfessor C: OK , good . Let 's {disfmarker} let 's mark that . So we need a c\nGrad F: Uh , I mean , so it gets a little funny . These are all {disfmarker} so far these structures , especially from \" path \" and on down , these are sort of relatively familiar , um , image schematic kind of slots . Now with \" cause \" , uh , the fillers will actually be themselves frames . Right ?\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: So you 'll say , \" event one causes event B {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: And {disfmarker} and {disfmarker} and {disfmarker} and this {disfmarker} this {disfmarker} this again may ge our , um {disfmarker} and we {disfmarker} and {disfmarker} and , of course , worlds .\nGrad F: uh , event two \" , and {disfmarker}\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: Yeah . So that 's , uh these are all implicitly one {disfmarker} within , uh within one world . Um , even though saying that place takes place , whatever . Uh , if y if I said \" time \" is , you know , \" past \" , that would say \" set that this world \" , you know , \" somewhere , before the world that corresponds to our current speech time \" .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm . Mm - hmm . Yeah .\nGrad F: So . But that {disfmarker} that {disfmarker} that 's sort of OK . The {disfmarker} the {disfmarker} within the event it 's st it 's still one world . Um . Yeah , so \" cause \" and {disfmarker} Other frames that could come in {disfmarker} I mean , unfortunately you could bring in say for instance , um , uh , \" desire \" or something like that ,\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: like \" want \" . And actually there is right now under \" discourse segments \" , um , \" attitude \" ?\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: \" Volition \" ? could fill that . So there are a couple things where I like , \" oh , I 'm not sure if I wanted to have it there\nGrad E: Well that 's {disfmarker}\nGrad F: or {disfmarker} \" Basically there was a whole list of {disfmarker} of possible speaker attitudes that like say Talmy listed . And , like , well , I don't {disfmarker} you know , it was like \" hope , wish . desire \" ,\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad E: Uh - huh .\nGrad F: blah - blah - blah . And it 's like , well , I feel like if I wanted to have an extra meaning {disfmarker} I don't know if those are grammatically marked in the first place . So {disfmarker} They 're more lexically marked , right ?\nGrad E: Mmm .\nGrad F: At least in English . So if I wanted to I would stick in an extra frame in my meaning , saying , e so th it 'd be a hierarchical frame them , right ? You know , like \" Naomi wants {disfmarker} wants su a certain situation and that situation itself is a state of affairs \" .\nProfessor C: S right . So {disfmarker} so , \" want \" itself can be {disfmarker} {pause} i i i i i\nGrad F: u Can be just another frame that 's part of your {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: Well , and it i basically it 's an action . In {disfmarker} in our s in our {disfmarker} in our {disfmarker}\nGrad F: Yeah . Situation . {comment} Right , right .\nProfessor C: in {disfmarker} in our {disfmarker} in our s terminology , \" want \" can be an action and \" what you want \" is a world .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad B: Hmm .\nProfessor C: So that 's {disfmarker} I mean , it 's certainly one way to do it .\nGrad F: Mmm .\nProfessor C: Yeah , there {disfmarker} there are other things .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: Causal stuff we absolutely need . Mental space we need .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: The context we need . Um , so anyway , Keith {disfmarker} So is this comfortable to you that , uh , once we have this defined , it is your tool kit for building the semantic part of constructions .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: And then when we combine constructions semantically , the goal is going to be to fill out more and more of the bindings needed in order to come up with the final one .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: And that 's the wh and {disfmarker} and I mean , that {disfmarker} according to the party line , that 's the whole story .\nGrad E: Yeah . Mm - hmm . Yeah . Um . y Right . That makes sense . So I mean , there 's this stuff in the {disfmarker} off in the scenario , which just tells you how various {disfmarker} what schemas you 're using and they 're {disfmarker} how they 're bound together . And I guess that some of the discourse segment stuff {disfmarker} is that where you would sa\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: I mean , that 's {disfmarker} OK , that 's where the information structure is which sort of is a kind of profiling on different parts of , um , of this .\nGrad F: Right . Exactly .\nGrad E: I mean , what 's interesting is that the information structure stuff {disfmarker} Hmm . There 's almost {disfmarker} I mean , we keep coming back to how focus is like this {disfmarker} this , uh , trajector - landmark thing .\nGrad F: Yeah .\nGrad E: So if I say , um , You know , \" In France it 's like this \" . You know , great , we 've learned something about France but the fact is that utterances of that sort are generally used to help you draw a conclusion also about some implicit contrast , like \" In France it 's like this \" . And therefore you 're supposed to say , \" Boy , life sure {disfmarker} \"\nGrad F: Right .\nGrad E: You know , \" in France kids are allowed to drink at age three \" . And w you 're {disfmarker} that 's not just a fact about France . You also conclude something about how boring it is here in the U S . Right ?\nGrad F: Right , right .\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad E: And so {disfmarker}\nGrad F: S so I would prefer not to worry about that for right now\nGrad E: OK .\nGrad F: and to think that there are , um ,\nGrad E: That comes in and , uh {disfmarker}\nGrad F: discourse level constructions in a sense , topic {disfmarker} topic - focus constructions that would say , \" oh , when you focus something \" then {disfmarker}\nGrad E: Mm - hmm . Yeah .\nGrad F: just done the same way {disfmarker} just actually in the same way as the lower level . If you stressed , you know , \" John went to the {disfmarker} \" , you know , \" the bar \" whatever , you 're focusing that\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: and a in a possible inference is \" in contrast to other things \" .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: So similarly for a whole sentence , you know , \" in France such - and - such happens \" .\nGrad E: Yeah . Yeah , yeah .\nGrad F: So the whole thing is sort of like again implicitly as opposed to other things that are possible .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad A: Uh , just {disfmarker} just , uh , look {disfmarker} read uh even sem semi formal Mats Rooth .\nGrad F: I mean {disfmarker} Yeah .\nGrad A: If you haven't read it . It 's nice .\nGrad F: Uh - huh .\nGrad A: And just pick any paper on alternative semantics .\nGrad F: Uh - huh .\nGrad E: OK .\nGrad A: So that 's his {disfmarker} that 's the best way of talking about focus , is I think his way .\nGrad E: OK , what was the name ?\nGrad A: Mats . MATS . Rooth .\nGrad E: OK .\nGrad A: I think two O 's , yes , TH .\nGrad E: OK .\nGrad A: I never know how to pronounce his name because he 's sort of ,\nProfessor C: S Swede ?\nGrad A: uh , he is Dutch\nProfessor C: Dutch ?\nGrad A: and , um {disfmarker} but very confused background I think .\nProfessor C: Oh , Dutch .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nProfessor C: Uh - huh .\nGrad A: So {pause} and , um ,\nGrad E: Mats Gould .\nGrad A: And sadly enough he also just left the IMS in Stuttgart . So he 's not there anymore .\nGrad E: Hmm .\nGrad A: But , um {disfmarker} I don't know where he is right now but alternative semantics is {disfmarker} if you type that into an , uh , uh , browser or search engine you 'll get tons of stuff .\nGrad E: OK . OK . OK , thanks .\nGrad A: And what I 'm kind of confused about is {disfmarker} is what the speaker and the hearer is {disfmarker} is sort of doing there .\nGrad F: So for a particular segment it 's really just a reference to some other entity again in the situation , right ? So for a particular segment the speaker might be you or might be me .\nGrad A: Yeah .\nGrad F: Um , hearer is a little bit harder . It could be like multiple people . I guess that {disfmarker} that {disfmarker} that {disfmarker} that 's not very clear from here {disfmarker}\nGrad A: Yeah , but you {disfmarker} Don't we ultimately want to handle that analogously to the way we handle time and place ,\nGrad F: I mean , that 's not allowed here .\nGrad A: because \" you \" , \" me \" , \" he \" , \" they \" , you know , \" these guys \" , all these expressions , nuh , are in {disfmarker} in much the same way contextually dependent as \" here , \" and \" now , \" and \" there \" {disfmarker}\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: Now , this is {disfmarker} this is assuming you 've already solved that .\nGrad F: Ye - yeah .\nProfessor C: So it 's {disfmarker} it 's Fred and Mary ,\nGrad F: So th\nProfessor C: so the speaker would be Fred and the {disfmarker}\nGrad A: Ah !\nGrad F: Right , so the constructions might {disfmarker} of course will refer , using pronouns or whatever .\nGrad A: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: In which case they have to check to see , uh , who the , uh , speaker in here wa in order to resolve those . But when you actually say that \" he walked into {disfmarker} \" , whatever , um , the \" he \" will refer to a particular {disfmarker} You {disfmarker} you will already have figured who \" he \" or \" you \" , mmm , or \" I \" , maybe is a bett better example , who \" I \" refers to . Um , and then you 'd just be able to refer to Harry , you know , in wherever that person {disfmarker} whatever role that person was playing in the event .\nGrad A: Mmm . That 's up at the reference part .\nGrad F: Yeah , yeah .\nGrad A: And down there in the speaker - hearer part ?\nGrad F: S so , that 's {disfmarker} I think that 's just {disfmarker} n for instance , Speaker is known from the situation , right ? You 're {disfmarker} when you hear something you 're told who the speaker is {disfmarker} I mean , you know who the speaker is . In fact , that 's kind of constraining how {disfmarker} in some ways you know this before you get to the {disfmarker} you fill in all the rest of it . I think .\nProfessor C: Mmm .\nGrad F: I mean , how else would you um {disfmarker}\nGrad A: You know , uh , uh , it 's {disfmarker} the speaker may {disfmarker} in English is allowed to say \" I . \"\nProfessor C: Yeah . Well , here {disfmarker}\nGrad A: Uh , among the twenty - five percent most used words .\nGrad F: Yeah . Right .\nGrad A: But wouldn't the \" I \" then set up the {disfmarker} the s s referent {disfmarker} that happens to be the speaker this time\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad A: and not \" they , \" whoever they are .\nGrad F: Right , right .\nGrad A: Or \" you \" {disfmarker}\nGrad F: So {disfmarker}\nGrad A: much like the \" you \" could n\nGrad F: S so {disfmarker} OK , so I would say ref under referent should be something that corresponds to \" I \" . And maybe each referent should probably have a list of way whatever , the way it was referred to . So that 's \" I \" but , uh , uh , should we say it {disfmarker} it refers to , what ? Uh , if it were \" Harry \" it would refer to like some ontology thing . If it were {disfmarker} if it 's \" I \" it would refer to the current speaker , OK , which is given to be like , you know , whoever it is .\nGrad A: Well , not {disfmarker} not always . I mean , so there 's \" and then he said , I w \" Uh - huh .\nProfessor C: Uh {disfmarker}\nGrad F: \" I \" within the current world .\nGrad A: Yeah .\nProfessor C: Yeah . That 's right . So {disfmarker} so again , this {disfmarker} uh , this {disfmarker} this is gonna to get us into the mental space stuff\nGrad F: Yeah , yeah , yeah , yeah .\nProfessor C: and t because you know , \" Fred said that Mary said {disfmarker} \" , and whatever .\nGrad E: Mmm .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: And {disfmarker} and so we 're , uh gonna have to , um , chain those as well .\nGrad A: Mm - hmm . Twhhh - whhh . But {disfmarker}\nGrad F: Mm - hmm . So this entire thing is inside a world ,\nProfessor C: Right . Right .\nGrad F: not just like the top part .\nProfessor C: I {disfmarker} I think , uh {disfmarker}\nGrad F: That 's {disfmarker}\nGrad A: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: Except s it 's {disfmarker} it 's trickier than that because um , the reference for example {disfmarker} So he where it gets really tricky is there 's some things ,\nGrad F: Yeah .\nProfessor C: and this is where blends and all terribl So , some things which really are meant to be identified and some things which aren't .\nGrad F: Yeah . Right .\nProfessor C: And again , all we need for the moment is some way to say that .\nGrad F: Right . So I thought of having like {disfmarker} for each referent , having the list of {disfmarker} of the things t with which it is identified . You know , which {disfmarker} which , uh you know , you {disfmarker} you {disfmarker} you {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: You could do that .\nGrad F: for instance , um {disfmarker} So , I guess , it sort of depends on if it is a referring exp if it 's identifiable already or it 's a new thing .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: If it 's a new thing you 'd have to like create a structure or whatever . If it 's an old thing it could be referring to , um , usually w something in a situation , right ? Or something in ontology .\nProfessor C: uh - huh .\nGrad F: So , there 's a you know , whatever , it c it could point at one of these .\nProfessor C: I just had a {disfmarker} I just had an {disfmarker} an idea that would be very nice if it works .\nGrad F: For what ?\nProfessor C: Uh , uh , uh , I haven't told you what it is yet .\nGrad F: If it works .\nProfessor C: This was my build - up .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm . Mmm .\nProfessor C: An i an idea that would be nice i\nGrad F: Yeah . OK , we 're crossing our fingers .\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad B: So we 're building a mental space , good .\nProfessor C: If it worked . Yeah .\nGrad F: OK .\nProfessor C: Right , it was a space builder . Um , we might be able to handle context in the same way that we handle mental spaces because , uh , you have somewhat the same things going on of , uh , things being accessible or not .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: And so , i\nGrad F: Yep .\nProfessor C: it c it {disfmarker} it , uh I think if we did it right we might be able to get at least a lot of the same structure .\nGrad F: Use the same {disfmarker} {comment} Yep .\nProfessor C: So that pulling something out of a discourse context is I think similar to other kinds of , uh , mental space phenomena .\nGrad B: I see .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm . And {disfmarker} And {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: Uh , I 've {disfmarker} I 've {disfmarker} I 've never seen anybody write that up but maybe they did . I don't know . That may be all over the literature .\nGrad F: Yeah .\nGrad E: There 's things like ther you know , there 's all kinds of stuff like , um , in {disfmarker} I think I mentioned last time in Czech if you have a {disfmarker} a verb of saying then\nGrad F: So {disfmarker} so by default {disfmarker}\nGrad E: um , you know , you say something like {disfmarker} or {disfmarker} or I was thinking you can say something like , \" oh , I thought , uh , you are a republican \" or something like that . Where as in English you would say , \" I thought you were \" .\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad E: Um , you know , sort of the past tense being copied onto the lower verb doesn't happen there , so you have to say something about , you know , tense is determined relative to current blah - blah - blah .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: Same things happens with pronouns .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: There 's languages where , um , if you have a verb of saying then , ehhh , where {disfmarker} OK , so a situation like \" Bob said he was going to the movies \" , where that lower subject is the same as the person who was saying or thinking , you 're actually required to have \" I \" there .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: Um , and it 's sort of in an extended function {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: So we would have it be in quotes in English .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad B: Right .\nGrad E: But it 's not perceived as a quotative construction .\nGrad F: Right .\nProfessor C: Yeah .\nGrad E: I mean , it 's been analyzed by the formalists as being a logophoric pronoun , um which means a pronoun which refers back to the person who is speaking or that sort of thing , right ?\nProfessor C: OK .\nGrad F: Oh , right . Yeah , that makes sense .\nGrad E: Um , but {disfmarker} uh , that happens to sound like the word for \" I \" but is actually semantically unrelated to it .\nGrad F: Oh , no !\nProfessor C: Oh , good , I love the formali\nGrad E: Um ,\nGrad F: Really ?\nGrad E: Yeah . {vocalsound} Yeah .\nGrad F: You 're kidding .\nGrad E: There 's a whole book which basically operates on this assumption . Uh , Mary Dalrymple , uh , this book , a ninety - three book on , uh on pronoun stuff .\nGrad F: No , that 's horrible . OK . That 's horrible . {comment} OK .\nGrad E: Well , yeah . And then the same thing for ASL where , you know , you 're signing and someone says something . And then , you know , so \" he say \" , and then you sort of do a role shift . And then you sign \" I , this , that , and the other \" .\nGrad F: Uh - huh .\nGrad E: And you know , \" I did this \" . That 's also been analyzed as logophoric and having nothing to do with \" I \" . And the role shift thing is completely left out and so on . So , I mean , the point is that pronoun references , uh , you know , sort of ties in with all this mental space stuff and so on , and so forth .\nGrad F: Uh - huh .\nGrad E: And so , yeah , I mean {disfmarker}\nGrad F: Yeah .\nProfessor C: So that {disfmarker} that d that does sound like it 's co consistent with what we 're saying , yeah .\nGrad E: Right . Yeah .\nGrad F: OK , so it 's kind of like the unspecified mental spaces just are occurring in context . And then when you embed them sometimes you have to pop up to the h you know , depending on the construction or the whatever , um , you {disfmarker} you {disfmarker} you 're scope is {disfmarker} m might extend out to the {disfmarker} the base one .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: It would be nice to actually use the same , um , mechanism since there are so many cases where you actually need it 'll be one or the other .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: It 's like , oh , actually , it 's the same {disfmarker} same operation .\nProfessor C: Oh , OK , so this {disfmarker} this is worth some thought .\nGrad F: So .\nGrad E: It 's like {disfmarker} it 's like what 's happening {disfmarker} that , yeah , what what 's happening , uh , there is that you 're moving the base space or something like that , right ?\nGrad F: Yeah , yeah .\nGrad E: So that 's {disfmarker} that 's how Fauconnier would talk about it . And it happens diff under different circumstances in different languages .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: And so ,\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: um , things like pronoun reference and tense which we 're thinking of as being these discourse - y things actually are relative to a Bayes space which can change .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm ,\nGrad E: And we need all the same machinery .\nGrad F: right .\nGrad A: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: Robert .\nProfessor C: Well , but , uh , this is very good actually\nGrad E: Schade .\nProfessor C: cuz it {disfmarker} it {disfmarker} it {disfmarker} to the extent that it works , it y\nGrad F: Ties it all into it .\nProfessor C: it {disfmarker} it ties together several of {disfmarker} of these things .\nGrad F: Yeah . Yep .\nGrad A: Mm - hmm . Mm - hmm . And I 'm sure gonna read the transcript of this one . So . But the , uh , {disfmarker} {vocalsound} But it 's too bad that we don't have a camera . You know , all the pointing is gonna be lost .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: Oh , yeah .\nGrad B: Well every time Nancy giggles it means {disfmarker} it means that it 's your job .\nGrad F: Yeah , that 's why I said \" point to Robert \" , {vocalsound} when I did it .\nGrad A: Uh . Yeah . Mmm , isn't {disfmarker} I mean , I 'm {disfmarker} I was sort of dubious why {disfmarker} why he even introduces this sort of reality , you know , as your basic mental space and then builds up {disfmarker}\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad A: d doesn't start with some {disfmarker} because it 's so obvi it should be so obvious , at least it is to me , {comment} that whenever I say something I could preface that with \" I think . \" Nuh ?\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad A: So there should be no categorical difference between your base and all the others that ensue .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nProfessor C: No , but there 's {disfmarker} there 's a Gricean thing going on there , that when you say \" I think \" you 're actually hedging .\nGrad E: Yeah , I mean {disfmarker}\nGrad F: Mmm . It 's like I don't totally think {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad E: Yeah . Y\nGrad F: I mostly think , uh {disfmarker}\nGrad A: Yeah , it 's {disfmarker} Absolutely .\nGrad E: Yeah , it 's an {disfmarker} it 's an evidential . It 's sort of semi - grammaticalized . People have talked about it this way . And you know , you can do sort of special things . You can , th put just the phrase \" I think \" as a parenthetical in the middle of a sentence and so on , and so forth .\nGrad A: Yeah .\nGrad E: So {disfmarker}\nGrad F: Actually one of the child language researchers who works with T Tomasello studied a bunch of these constructions and it was like it 's not using any kind of interesting embedded ways just to mark , you know , uncertainty or something like that .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: So .\nGrad A: Yeah , but about linguistic hedges , I mean , those {disfmarker} those tend to be , um , funky anyways because they blur {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: So we don't have that in here either do we ?\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: Hedges ?\nProfessor C: Yeah , yeah .\nGrad F: Hhh , {comment} I {disfmarker} there used to be a slot for speaker , um , it was something like factivity . I couldn't really remember what it meant\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: so I took it out .\nGrad E: Um .\nGrad F: But it 's something {disfmarker}\nGrad E: Well we were just talking about this sort of evidentiality and stuff like that , right ?\nGrad F: we {disfmarker} we were talking about sarcasm too , right ? Oh , oh .\nGrad E: I mean ,\nGrad F: Oh , yeah , yeah , right .\nGrad E: that 's what I think is , um , sort of telling you what percent reality you should give this\nProfessor C: So we probably should .\nGrad F: Yeah .\nGrad A: Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: or the , you know {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: Confidence or something like that .\nGrad E: Yeah , and the fact that I 'm , you know {disfmarker} the fact maybe if I think it versus he thinks that might , you know , depending on how much you trust the two of us or whatever ,\nGrad F: Yeah .\nGrad A: Uh great word in the English language is called \" about \" .\nGrad E: you know {disfmarker}\nGrad A: If you study how people use that it 's also {disfmarker}\nGrad F: What 's the word ?\nGrad A: \" about . \" It 's about {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: About .\nGrad A: clever .\nProfessor C: Oh , that {disfmarker} in that use of \" about \" , yeah .\nGrad F: Oh , oh , oh , as a hedge .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nProfessor C: And I think {disfmarker} And I think {pause} y if you want us to spend a pleasant six or seven hours you could get George started on that .\nGrad E: He wrote a paper about thirty - five years ago on that one .\nGrad B: I r I read that paper ,\nProfessor C: Yeah .\nGrad B: the hedges paper ? I read some of that paper actually .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nProfessor C: Yeah .\nGrad E: Would you believe that that paper lead directly to the development of anti - lock brakes ?\nGrad F: What ?\nProfessor C: No .\nGrad E: Ask me about it later I 'll tell you how . When we 're not on tape .\nGrad F: I 'd love to know .\nGrad B: Oh , man .\nGrad F: So , and {disfmarker} and I think , uh , someone had raised like sarcasm as a complication at some point .\nProfessor C: There 's all that stuff . Yeah , let 's {disfmarker} I {disfmarker} I don't {disfmarker} I think {disfmarker}\nGrad F: And we just won't deal with sarcastic people .\nProfessor C: Yeah , I mean {disfmarker}\nGrad E: I don't really know what like {disfmarker} We {disfmarker} we don't have to care too much about the speaker attitude , right ? Like there 's not so many different {disfmarker} hhh , {comment} I don't know , m\nGrad F: Certainly not as some {disfmarker} Well , they 're intonational markers I think for the most part .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: I don't know too much about the like grammatical {disfmarker}\nGrad E: I just mean {disfmarker} There 's lots of different attitudes that {disfmarker} that the speaker could have and that we can clearly identify , and so on , and so forth .\nGrad F: Yeah .\nGrad E: But like what are the distinctions among those that we actually care about for our current purposes ?\nProfessor C: Right . Right , so , uh , this {disfmarker} this raises the question of what are our current purposes .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: Right ?\nGrad E: Oh , shoot .\nGrad F: Oh , yeah , do we have any ?\nGrad E: Here it is three - fifteen already .\nGrad A: Mmm . Yeah .\nProfessor C: Uh , so , um , I {disfmarker} I don't know the answer but {disfmarker} but , um , it does seem that , you know , this is {disfmarker} this is coming along . I think it 's {disfmarker} it 's converging . It 's {disfmarker} as far as I can tell there 's this one major thing we have to do which is the mental {disfmarker} the whole s mental space thing . And then there 's some other minor things .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: Um , and we 're going to have to s sort of bound the complexity . I mean , if we get everything that anybody ever thought about you know , w we 'll go nuts .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nProfessor C: So we had started with the idea that the actual , uh , constraint was related to this tourist domain and the kinds of interactions that might occur in the tourist domain , assuming that people were being helpful and weren't trying to d you know , there 's all sorts of {disfmarker} God knows , irony , and stuff like {disfmarker} which you {disfmarker} isn't probably of much use in dealing with a tourist guide .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nProfessor C: Yeah ?\nGrad E: Yeah .\nProfessor C: Uh .\nGrad F: M mockery .\nProfessor C: Right . Whatever . So y uh , no end of things th that {disfmarker} that , you know , we don't deal with .\nGrad A: But it {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: And {disfmarker}\nGrad A: i isn't that part easy though\nProfessor C: Go ahead .\nGrad A: because in terms of the s simspec , it would just mean you put one more set of brack brackets around it , and then just tell it to sort of negate whatever the content of that is in terms of irony\nGrad E: Yeah .\nProfessor C: N no .\nGrad F: Mmm .\nGrad A: or {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: No .\nGrad E: Right .\nGrad F: Maybe .\nProfessor C: No .\nGrad F: Yeah , in model theory cuz the semantics is always like \" speaker believes not - P \" , you know ?\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad F: Like \" the speaker says P and believes not - P \" .\nGrad E: We have a theoretical model of sarcasm now .\nGrad F: But {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad E: Yeah , right , I mean .\nProfessor C: No , no .\nGrad F: Right , right , but ,\nProfessor C: Anyway , so {disfmarker} so , um , I guess uh , let me make a proposal on how to proceed on that , which is that , um , it was Keith 's , uh , sort of job over the summer to come up with this set of constructions . Uh , and my suggestion to Keith is that you , over the next couple weeks , n\nGrad E: Mmm .\nProfessor C: don't try to do them in detail or formally but just try to describe which ones you think we ought to have .\nGrad E: OK .\nProfessor C: Uh , and then when Robert gets back we 'll look at the set of them .\nGrad E: OK .\nProfessor C: Just {disfmarker} just sort of , you know , define your space .\nGrad E: Yeah , OK .\nProfessor C: And , um , so th these are {disfmarker} this is a set of things that I think we ought to deal with .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nProfessor C: And then we 'll {disfmarker} we 'll {disfmarker} we 'll go back over it and w people will {disfmarker} will give feedback on it .\nGrad E: OK .\nProfessor C: And then {disfmarker} then we 'll have a {disfmarker} at least initial spec of {disfmarker} of what we 're actually trying to do .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nProfessor C: And that 'll also be useful for anybody who 's trying to write a parser .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: Knowing uh {disfmarker}\nGrad E: In case there 's any around .\nGrad F: If we knew anybody like that .\nProfessor C: Right , \" who might want \" et cetera . So , uh {disfmarker}\nGrad E: OK .\nProfessor C: So a and we get this {disfmarker} this , uh , portals fixed and then we have an idea of the sort of initial range . And then of course Nancy you 're gonna have to , uh , do your set of {disfmarker} but you have to do that anyway .\nGrad F: For the same , yeah , data . Yeah , mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: So {disfmarker} so we 're gonna get the w we 're basically dealing with two domains , the tourist domain and the {disfmarker} and the child language learning .\nGrad B: Mmm .\nProfessor C: And we 'll see what we need for those two . And then my proposal would be to , um , not totally cut off more general discussion but to focus really detailed work on the subset of things that we 've {disfmarker} we really want to get done .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: And then as a kind of separate thread , think about the more general things and {disfmarker} and all that .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm . Mm - hmm .\nGrad A: Well , I also think the detailed discussion will hit {disfmarker} you know , bring us to problems that are of a general nature and maybe even {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: Uh , without doubt . Yeah .\nGrad F: Yeah .\nGrad A: even suggest some solutions .\nProfessor C: But what I want to do is {disfmarker} is {disfmarker} is to {disfmarker} to constrain the things that we really feel responsible for .\nGrad A: Yeah . Mmm .\nProfessor C: So that {disfmarker} that we say these are the things we 're really gonna try do by the end of the summer\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: and other things we 'll put on a list of {disfmarker} of research problems or something , because you can easily get to the point where nothing gets done because every time you start to do something you say , \" oh , yeah , but what about this case ? \"\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: This is {disfmarker} this is called being a linguist .\nGrad A: Mmm .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nProfessor C: And , uh ,\nGrad E: Basically .\nGrad F: Or me .\nProfessor C: Huh ?\nGrad F: Or me . Anyways {disfmarker}\nGrad B: There 's that quote in Jurafsky and Martin where {disfmarker} where it goes {disfmarker} where some guy goes , \" every time I fire a linguist the performance of the recognizer goes up . \"\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad F: Yeah .\nGrad E: Exactly .\nProfessor C: Right . But anyway . So , is {disfmarker} is that {disfmarker} does that make sense as a , uh {disfmarker} a general way to proceed ?\nGrad F: Sure , yeah .\nGrad E: Yeah , yeah , we 'll start with that , just figuring out what needs to be done then actually the next step is to start trying to do it .\nProfessor C: Exactly right .\nGrad A: Mmm .\nGrad E: Got it .\nGrad A: Mmm .\nGrad E: OK .\nGrad A: We have a little bit of news , uh , just minor stuff . The one big {disfmarker}\nGrad B: Ooo , can I ask a {disfmarker}\nGrad E: You ran out of power .\nGrad A: Huh ?\nGrad B: Can I ask a quick question about this side ?\nGrad A: Yeah .\nGrad F: Yes .\nGrad B: Is this , uh {disfmarker} was it intentional to leave off things like \" inherits \" and {disfmarker}\nGrad F: Oops . Um ,\nGrad E: No .\nGrad F: not really {disfmarker} just on the constructions , right ?\nGrad B: Yeah , like constructions can inherit from other things ,\nGrad F: Um ,\nGrad B: am I right ?\nGrad F: yeah .\nGrad B: Yeah .\nGrad F: I didn't want to think too much about that for {disfmarker} for now .\nGrad B: OK .\nProfessor C: Yeah .\nGrad F: So , uh , maybe it was subconsciously intentional .\nProfessor C: Yeah , uh {disfmarker} yeah .\nGrad E: Um , yeah , there should be {disfmarker} I {disfmarker} I wanted to s find out someday if there was gonna be some way of dealing with , uh , if this is the right term , multiple inheritance ,\nProfessor C: Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: where one construction is inheriting from , uh from both parents ,\nGrad F: Uh - huh . Yep .\nGrad E: uh , or different ones , or three or four different ones .\nProfessor C: Yeah . So let me {disfmarker}\nGrad E: Cuz the problem is that then you have to {disfmarker}\nGrad F: Yeah .\nGrad E: which of {disfmarker} you know , which are {disfmarker} how they 're getting bound together .\nGrad F: Refer to {pause} them .\nProfessor C: Yeah , right , right , right . Yeah , yeah , yeah .\nGrad F: Yeah , and {disfmarker} and there are certainly cases like that . Even with just semantic schemas we have some examples .\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad F: So , and we 've been talking a little bit about that anyway .\nProfessor C: Yeah . So what I would like to do is separate that problem out .\nGrad F: Inherits .\nProfessor C: So um ,\nGrad E: OK .\nProfessor C: my argument is there 's nothing you can do with that that you can't do by just having more constructions .\nGrad E: Yeah , yes .\nProfessor C: It 's uglier and it d doesn't have the deep linguistic insights and stuff .\nGrad E: That 's right .\nProfessor C: Uh ,\nGrad E: But whatever .\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad E: Yeah , no , no , no no .\nGrad F: Uh , those are over rated .\nGrad E: No , by all means ,\nProfessor C: And so I {disfmarker} what I 'd like to do is {disfmarker} is in the short run focus on getting it right .\nGrad E: right . Uh , sure .\nProfessor C: And when we think we have it right then saying , \" aha ! ,\nGrad E: Yeah .\nProfessor C: can we make it more elegant ? \"\nGrad E: Yeah , that 's {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: Can {disfmarker} can we , uh {disfmarker} What are the generalizations , and stuff ?\nGrad E: Yeah . Connect the dots . Yeah .\nProfessor C: But rather than try to guess a inheritance structure and all that sort of stuff before we know what we 're doing .\nGrad E: Yep . Yeah .\nProfessor C: So I would say in the short run we 're not gonna b\nGrad E: Yeah .\nProfessor C: First of all , we 're not doing them yet at all . And {disfmarker} and it could be that half way through we say , \" aha ! , we {disfmarker} we now see how we want to clean it up . \"\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: Uh , and inheritance is only one {disfmarker} I mean , that 's one way to organize it but there are others . And it may or may not be the best way .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad A: Mmm .\nProfessor C: I 'm sorry , you had news .\nGrad A: Oh , just small stuff . Um , thanks to Eva on our web site we can now , if you want to run JavaBayes , uh , you could see {disfmarker} get {disfmarker} download these classes . And then it will enable you {disfmarker} she modified the GUI so it has now a m a m a button menu item for saving it into the embedded JavaBayes format .\nGrad D: Mm - hmm .\nGrad B: Mmm .\nGrad A: So that 's wonderful .\nProfessor C: Great .\nGrad A: And , um and she , a You tested it out . Do you want to say something about that , that it works , right ? With the {disfmarker}\nGrad D: I was just checking like , when we wanna , um , get the posterior probability of , like , variables . You know how you asked whether we can , like , just observe all the variables like in the same list ? You can't .\nGrad A: Uh - huh .\nGrad D: You have to make separate queries every time .\nGrad A: OK , that 's {disfmarker} that 's a bit unfortunate\nGrad D: So {disfmarker} Yeah .\nGrad A: but for the time being it 's {disfmarker} it 's {disfmarker} it 's fine to do it {disfmarker}\nGrad D: You just have to have a long list of , you know , all the variables .\nGrad A: Yeah . But uh {disfmarker}\nGrad D: Basically .\nGrad F: Uh , all the things you want to query , you just have to like ask for separately .\nGrad D: Yeah , yeah .\nGrad A: Well that 's {disfmarker} probably maybe in the long term that 's good news because it forces us to think a little bit more carefully how {disfmarker} how we want to get an out output . Um , but that 's a different discussion for a different time . And , um , I don't know . We 're really running late , so I had , uh , an idea yesterday but , uh , I don't know whether we should even start discussing .\nProfessor C: W what {disfmarker} Yeah , sure , tell us what it is .\nGrad A: Um , the construal bit that , um , has been pointed to but hasn't been , um , made precise by any means , um , may w may work as follows . I thought that we would , uh {disfmarker} that the following thing would be in incredibly nice and I have no clue whether it will work at all or nothing . So that 's just a tangent , a couple of mental disclaimers here . Um , imagine you {disfmarker} you write a Bayes - net , um {disfmarker}\nGrad F: Bayes ?\nGrad A: Bayes - net ,\nGrad F: OK .\nGrad A: um , completely from scratch every time you do construal . So you have nothing . Just a white piece of paper .\nProfessor C: Mmm , right .\nGrad A: You consult {disfmarker} consult your ontology which will tell you a bunch of stuff , and parts , and properties , uh - uh - uh\nGrad F: Grout out the things that {disfmarker} that you need .\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad A: then y you 'd simply write , uh , these into {disfmarker} onto your {disfmarker} your white piece of paper . And you will get a lot of notes and stuff out of there . You won't get {disfmarker} you won't really get any C P T 's , therefore we need everything that {disfmarker} that configures to what the situation is , IE , the context dependent stuff . So you get whatever comes from discourse but also filtered . Uh , so only the ontology relevant stuff from the discourse plus the situation and the user model .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad A: And that fills in your CPT 's with which you can then query , um , the {disfmarker} the net that you just wrote and find out how thing X is construed as an utterance U . And the embedded JavaBayes works exactly like that , that once you {disfmarker} we have , you know , precise format in which to write it , so we write it down . You query it . You get the result , and you throw it away . And the {disfmarker} the nice thing about this idea is that you don't ever have to sit down and think about it or write about it . You may have some general rules as to how things can be {disfmarker} can be construed as what , so that will allow you to craft the {disfmarker} the {disfmarker} the initial notes . But it 's {disfmarker} in that respect it 's completely scalable . Because it doesn't have any prior , um , configuration . It 's just you need an ontology of the domain and you need the context dependent modules . And if this can be made to work at all , {vocalsound} that 'd be kind of funky .\nProfessor C: Um , it sounds to me like you want P R\nGrad A: P R Ms - uh , PRM I mean , since you can unfold a PRM into a straightforward Bayes - net {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: Beca - because it {disfmarker} b because {disfmarker} No , no , you can't . See the {disfmarker} the critical thing about the PRM is it gives these relations in general form . So once you have instantiated the PRM with the instances and ther then you can {disfmarker} then you can unfold it .\nGrad A: Then you can . Mm - hmm , yeah . No , I was m using it generic . So , uh , probabilistic , whatever , relational models . Whatever you write it . In {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: Well , no , but it matters a lot because you {disfmarker} what you want are these generalized rules about the way things relate , th that you then instantiate in each case .\nGrad A: And then {disfmarker} then instantiate them . That 's ma maybe the {disfmarker} the way {disfmarker} the only way it works .\nProfessor C: Yeah , and that 's {disfmarker}\nGrad A: \nProfessor C: Yeah , that 's the only way it could work . I {disfmarker} we have a {disfmarker} our local expert on P R uh , but my guess is that they 're not currently good enough to do that . But we 'll {disfmarker} we 'll have to see .\nGrad A: But , uh ,\nProfessor C: Uh {disfmarker} Yes . This is {disfmarker} that 's {disfmarker} that would be a good thing to try . It 's related to the Hobbs abduction story in that you th you throw everything into a pot and you try to come up with the , uh {disfmarker}\nGrad A: Except there 's no {disfmarker} no theorem prover involved .\nGrad F: Best explanation .\nProfessor C: No , there isn't a theorem prover but there {disfmarker} but {disfmarker} but the , um , The cove the {disfmarker} the P R Ms are like rules of inference and you 're {disfmarker} you 're coupling a bunch of them together .\nGrad A: Mm - hmm , yeah .\nProfessor C: And then ins instead of proving you 're trying to , you know , compute the most likely . Uh {disfmarker} Tricky . But you {disfmarker} yeah , it 's a good {disfmarker} it 's a {disfmarker} it 's a good thing to put in your thesis proposal .\nGrad A: What 's it ?\nProfessor C: So are you gonna write something for us before you go ?\nGrad A: Yes . Um .\nProfessor C: Oh , you have something .\nGrad A: In the process thereof , or whatever .\nProfessor C: OK . So , what 's {disfmarker} what {disfmarker} when are we gonna meet again ?\nGrad F: When are you leaving ?\nGrad A: Fri - uh ,\nGrad F: Thursday , Friday ?\nGrad A: Thursday 's my last day here .\nGrad D: Fri\nProfessor C: Yeah .\nGrad F: OK .\nGrad A: So {disfmarker} I would suggest as soon as possible . Do you mean by we , the whole ben gang ?\nProfessor C: N no , I didn't mean y just the two of us . We {disfmarker} obviously we can {disfmarker} we can do this . But the question is do you want to , for example , send the little group , uh , a draft of your thesis proposal and get , uh , another session on feedback on that ? Or {disfmarker}\nGrad A: We can do it Th - Thursday again . Yeah .\nGrad E: Fine with me . Should we do the one PM time for Thursday since we were on that before or {disfmarker} ?\nGrad A: Sure .\nGrad E: OK .\nProfessor C: Alright .\nGrad D: Hmm .\nGrad A: Thursday at one ? I can also maybe then sort of run through the , uh {disfmarker} the talk I have to give at EML which highlights all of our work .\nProfessor C: OK .\nGrad A: And we can make some last minute changes on that .\nProfessor C: OK .\nGrad B: You can just give him the abstract that we wrote for the paper .\nProfessor C: That - that 'll tell him exactly what 's going on . Yeah , that {disfmarker} Alright .\nGrad F: Can we do {disfmarker} can we do one - thirty ?\nGrad A: No .\nGrad F: Oh , you already told me no .\nGrad A: But we can do four .\nGrad F: One , OK , it 's fine . I can do one . It 's fine . It 's fine .\nGrad A: One or four . I don't care .\nGrad E: To me this is equal . I don't care .\nGrad A: If it 's equal for all ? What should we do ?\nGrad F: Yeah , it 's fine .\nGrad A: Four ?\nGrad F: Fine . Yeah {disfmarker} no , no , no , uh , I don't care . It 's fine .\nGrad A: It 's equal to all of us , so you can decide one or four .\nGrad B: The pressure 's on you Nancy .\nGrad A: Liz actually said she likes four because it forces the Meeting Recorder people to cut , you know {disfmarker} the discussions short .\nGrad F: OK . OK , four .\nGrad E: Well , if you insist , then .\nGrad F: OK ? OK . I am .\n\nNow, answer the query based on the above meeting transcript in one or more sentences.\n\nQuery: Please describe the semantic specification\nAnswer:"}
{"question_id": 123, "category": "longbench_narrativeqa", "reference": ["Dana"], "prompt": "You are given a story, which can be either a novel or a movie script, and a question. Answer the question asconcisely as you can, using a single phrase if possible. Do not provide any explanation.\n\nStory: \t\t\t\t\t\tGhostbusters II\n\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\tby\n\t\t\t\t\t\tHarold Ramis\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\tand\n\t\t\t\t\t\tDan Aykroyd\n\n\t\t\t\t\t September 29, 1988\n\t\t\t\tLast revised Feburary 27, 1989\n\n\n<b>EXT.  MANHATTAN ISLAND - DAY\n</b>\nA high AERIAL SHOT of the island features the Statue of Liberty\nprominently in the foreground then TRAVELS ACROSS the harbor, OVER the\nBattery and Lower Manhattan to Greenwich Village.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - DAY\n</b>\nA car is being hoisted up by a municipal tow truck while its owner is\nhaving a terrible screaming arguement with a parking enforcement officer.\nDANA BARRETT comes home pushing a baby buggy, struggling with two full\nbags of groceries, and trying to dig her keys out of her purse. The\n\nbuilding superintendent FRANK, sees her struggling but pretends not to\nnotice.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (exasperated)\n\t\t\tFrank, do you think you could give me a hand\n\t\t\twith these bags?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\tI'm not a doorman, Miss Barrett.  I'm a\n\t\t\tbuilding superintendent.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tYou're also a human being, Frank.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reluctantly going to help)\n\t\t\tOkay, okay.  It's not my job, but what the\n\t\t\thell.  I'll do you a favor.  He takes the\n\t\t\tgrocery bags from her.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (setting the wheel brakes on\n\t\t\t\t the buggy)\n\t\t\tThank you, Frank.  I'll get the hang of this\n\t\t\teventually.\n\nShe continues digging in her purse while Frank leans over the buggy and\nmakes funny faces at the baby, OSCAR, a very cute nine-month old boy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the baby)\n\t\t\tHiya, Oscar.  What do you say, slugger?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tThat's a good-looking kid you got there, Ms.\n\t\t\tBarrett.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (finding her keys)\n\t\t\tThank you, Frank.  Oh, are you ever going to\n\t\t\tfix the radiator in my bedroom?  I asked you\n\t\t\tlast week.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\tDidn't I do it?\n\n<b>BABY BUGGY\n</b>\nIt starts to vibrate as if shaken by an unseen hand.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - BABY - DAY\n</b>\nHe GURGLES with delight at the movement.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - DANA AND FRANK - DAY\n</b>\nNeither of them notice the movement of the carriage.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tNo, you didn't, Frank.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, that's no problem.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThat's exactly what you said last week.\n\n<b>BUGGY WHEELS\n</b>\nThe brakes unlock themselves.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe reaches for the handlebar of the buggy, but the buggy rolls forward\njust out of her reach and stops.  Surprised by the movement, she reaches\nfor the handlebar again, but this time the buggy rolls away even\nfurther.  Alarmed now, Dana hurries after it, but the buggy keeps\nrolling down the street at ever increasing speed.\n\n<b>SIDEWALK\n</b>\nDana chases the buggy down the street, shouting to passing pedestrians\nfor help, but every time someone reaches out to stop it, the buggy\nswerves and continues unchecked.\n\n<b>INTERSECTION\n</b>\nCars, trucks, and buses speed by in both directions as the buggy races\ntoward the corner.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe puts her head down and sprints after the buggy like an Olympian.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - INTERSECTION - DAY\n</b>\nA city bus is on a collision course with the speeding baby buggy.\n\n<b>BUGGY\n</b>\nIt careens toward the corner.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - BABY - DAY\n</b>\nIts eyes are wide open with excitement.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - INTERSECTION - DAY\n</b>\nBus and buggy are closing fast as the buggy bounces over the curb and\ninto the crosswalk.\n\n<b>BUS\n</b>\nThe bus driver reacts in helpless horror as he sees the buggy enter the\nintersection at high speed.\n\n<b>BUGGY\n</b>\nIt comes to a dead stop right in the middle of the street.  The bus\ncontinues missing the buggy by inches.\n\n<b>INTERSECTION\n</b>\nCars and trucks swerve and hit their brakes as Dana runs into the\nintersection and snatches up the baby.  She hugs it close, deeply\nrelieved, then looks at the buggy with the dawning awareness that the\nsupernatural has re-entered her life.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  UPPER WEST SIDE - NEW YORK CITY STREET - GHOSTBUSTERS LOGO - DAY\n</b>\nTHEME MUSIC kicks in strongly as we see the familiar \"No Ghosts\" symbol\nand PULL BACK to reveal that it's painted on the side of Ecto-1, the\nGhostbusters' emergency vehicle, which is speeding up Broadway on the\nUpper West Side.  RAY STANTZ is driving and WINSTON ZEDDEMORE is riding\nshotgun.\n\n<b>EXT.  WEST 77TH STREET - DAY  (MOMENTS LATER)\n</b>\nThe Ectomobile pulls up in front of a carefully-restored brownstone.\nStantz and Winston, wearing their official Ghostbuster uniforms, jump\nout of the old ambulance, shoulder their proton packs and enter the\nhouse.\n\n<b>INT.  BROWNSTONE - DAY  (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nA WOMAN greets them and leads them through the expensively-furnished\nhouse.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (all business)\n\t\t\tHow many of them are there, ma'am?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWOMAN\n</b>\t\t\tFourteen.  They're in the back.  I hope you can\n\t\t\thandle them.  It's been like a nightmare.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tHow big are they?\n\nShe holds her hand out indicating about four feet.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (resolute)\n\t\t\tWe'll do our best, ma'am.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWOMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThey're right out here.\n\nShe leads them to a set of French doors that open into another room.\nStantz and Winston pause to make final adjustments to their equipment.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tReady?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tI'm ready.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThen let's do it.\n\nHe pushes through the French doors and they step into the room.\n\n<b>INT.  BROWNSTONE - DAY  (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThey are immediately attacked by fourteen or fifteen screaming KIDS\nbetween the ages of seven and ten.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tKIDS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (disappointed)\n\t\t\tGhostbusters!!  Boooo!!\n\nTables are set with party favors, ice cream and birthday cake and the\nroom is strewn with discarded toys and games.  A couple of weary parents\nsink onto lawn chairs as Stantz and Winston take over the party.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (trying his best)\n\t\t\tHow you doin', kids?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLITTLE BOY\n</b>\t\t\t\t (nasty)\n\t\t\tI though we were having He-Man.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tHe-Man couldn't make it today.  That's why\n\t\t\twe're here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tBOY\n</b>\t\t\tMy dad says you're full of crap.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (stopped cold)\n\t\t\tWell, a lot of people have trouble believing\n\t\t\tin the paranormal.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tBOY\n</b>\t\t\tNo, he just says you're full of crap and that's\n\t\t\twhy you went out of business.\n\nHe kicks Stantz in the leg.  Stantz grabs him by the shirtfront.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (low and menacing)\n\t\t\tI'm watching you.\n\t\t\t\t (to Winston)\n\t\t\tSong.\n\nWinston switches on a tiny TAPE RECORDER which starts PLAYING the\nGhostbusters THEME SONG. Stantz and WInston start singing\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ AND WINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t'There's something wrong in the neighborhood.\n\t\t\tWho you gonna call?'\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tKIDS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (all together)\n\t\t\tHe-Man!!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. WEST 77TH STREET - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nStantz and Winston wearily load their equipment into the Ectomobile.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tThat's it, Ray.  I've had it.  No more parties.\n\t\t\tI'm tired of taking abuse from over-privileged\n\t\t\tnine-year-olds.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tCome on, Winston.  We can't quit now.  The\n\t\t\tholidays are coming up.  It's our best season.\n\nThey get in the car\n\n<b>INT.  ECTO-1 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nStantz tries to start the car, but the engine won't turn over.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tGive it up, Ray.  You're living in the past.\n\t\t\tGhostbusters doesn't exist anymore.  In a year\n\t\t\tthese kids won't even remember who we are.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (tries to start the car again)\n\t\t\tUngrateful little Yuppie larvae.  After all we\n\t\t\tdid for this city.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, what did we do, Ray?  The last real job\n\t\t\twe had we bubbled up a hundred foot marshmallow\n\t\t\tman and blew the top three floors off an uptown\n\t\t\thighrise.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, but what a ride.  You can't make a\n\t\t\thamburger without chopping up a cow.\n\nHe turns the key again, the ENGING TURNS OVER, then starts GRINDING and\nCLUNKING disastrously, chewing up vital parts and dropping twisted bits\nof metal onto the pavement.  Finally, with a BLAST of black sooty\nexhaust from the tailpipe, Ecto-1 shudders and dies.  Frustrated, Stantz\nbangs his head lightly on the steering wheel\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  WKRR-TV STUDIO RECEPTION AREA - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nA bank of monitors in the lobby show the program now running on WKRR,\nChannel 10 in New York. We PUSH IN ON one of the monitors as a title\ncard and logo come up accompanied by some EERIE SYNTHESIZER MUSIC, and\nwe return to the show in progress: \"World of the Psychic with Dr. Peter\nVenkman.\"  There is a video dissolve to a standard talk show set and\nsitting there is our host PETER VENKMAN, the renowned and somewhat\ninfamous ex-Ghostbuster.\n\n<b>VENKMAN\n</b>\nHe turns TO CAMERA and talks to his viewers in a suavely engaging tone,\nunderstated and intimate.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHi, welcome back to the 'World of the Psychic,'\n\t\t\tI'm Peter Venkman and I'm chatting with my guest,\n\t\t\tauthor, lecturer and of course, psychic, Milton\n\t\t\tAnglund.\n\t\t\t\t (to his guest)\n\t\t\tMilt, your new book is called The End of the\n\t\t\tWorld.  Isn't that kind of like writing about\n\t\t\tgum disease.  Yes, it could happen, but do you\n\t\t\tthink anybody wants to read a book about it?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMILTON\n</b>\t\t\tWell, I think it's important for people to know\n\t\t\tthat the world is in danger.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, so can you tell us when it's going to\n\t\t\thappen or do we have to buy the book?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMILTON\n</b>\t\t\tI predict that the world will end at the\n\t\t\tstroke of midnight on New Year's Eve.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThis year?  That's cutting it a little close,\n\t\t\tisn't it?  I mean, just from a sales point of\n\t\t\tview, the book just came out, right?  So you're\n\t\t\tnot even looking at the paperback release for\n\t\t\tmaybe a year.  And it's going to be at least\n\t\t\tanother year after that if the thing has\n\t\t\tmovie-of-the-week or mini-series potential.\n\t\t\tYou would have been better off predicting 1992\n\t\t\tor even '94 just to be safe.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMILTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (irritated)\n\t\t\tThis is not just some money-making scheme!  I\n\t\t\tdidn't just make up the date.  I have a strong\n\t\t\tpsychic belief that the world will end on New\n\t\t\tYear's Eve.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (placating)\n\t\t\tWell, for your sake, I hope you're right.  But\n\t\t\tI think my other guest may disagree with you.\n\t\t\tElaine, you had another date in mind?\n\nThe CAMERA REVEALS ELAINE, an attractive, aggressive New Jersey\nhousewife, sitting on the other side of Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tELAINE\n</b>\t\t\tAccording to my sources, the world will end\n\t\t\ton February 14, in the year 2016.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tValentine's Day.  That's got to be a bummer.\n\t\t\tWhere did you get that date, Elaine?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tELAINE\n</b>\t\t\tI received this information from an alien.  I\n\t\t\twas at the Paramus Holiday Inn, I was having\n\t\t\ta drink in the bar when he approached me and\n\t\t\tstarted talking.  Then he must have used some\n\t\t\tsort of ray or a mind control device because\n\t\t\the made me follow him to his room and that's\n\t\t\twhere he told me about the end of the world.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYour alien had a room in the Holiday Inn?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tELAINE\n</b>\t\t\tIt may have been a room on the spacecraft made\n\t\t\tup to look like a room in the Holiday Inn.  I\n\t\t\tcan't be sure, Peter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (humoring her)\n\t\t\tNo, you can't, and I think that's the whole\n\t\t\tproblem with aliens; you just can't trust them.\n\t\t\tYou may get some nice ones occasionally like\n\t\t\tStarman or E.T., but most of them turn out to\n\t\t\tbe some kind of lizard.  Anyway, we're just\n\t\t\tabout out of time.\n\t\t\t\t (does his wrap-up right TO\n\t\t\t\t the CAMERA)\n\t\t\tNext week on 'World of the Psychic,' hairless\n\t\t\tpets.\n\t\t\t\t (holds up a hairless cat)\n\t\t\tUntil then, this is Peter Venkman saying ...\n\t\t\t\t (puts a finger to his temple\n\t\t\t\t and sends out a though to his\n\t\t\t\t viewers)\n\t\t\t... Good night.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT. TV STUDIO - CORRIDOR - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nVenkman comes out of the studio squabbling with his producer, NORMAN, a\nwell-meaning young incompetent.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhere do you find these people?  I thought\n\t\t\twe were having the telekinetic guy who bends\n\t\t\tthe spoons?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tNORMAN\n</b>\t\t\tA lot of the better psychics won't come on the\n\t\t\tshow.  They think you're too skeptical.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSkeptical!  Norman, I'm a pushover.  I think\n\t\t\tprofessional wrestling is real.\n\nThere is a small commotion down the hall as two plainclothes cops come\nout of the next studio followed by a group of mayoral assistants.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Norman)\n\t\t\tWhat's all this?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tNORMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThey just interviewed the mayor on 'Cityline.'\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThe Mayor!  He's a friend of mine.\n\nVenkman starts down the hall as the MAYOR and his principal aide, JACK\nHARDEMEYER, come walking out of the studio.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (calling to the Mayor)\n\t\t\tLenny!\n\nThe Mayor sees Venkman, blanches and hurries off, pretending not to know\nhim.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (starts to follow him)\n\t\t\tLenny!  It's Pete Venkman!\n\nThe plainclothesmen cut Venkman off and Hardemeyer puts a heavy hand\nagainst Venkman's chest.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (snide)\n\t\t\tCan I help you?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (dangerous)\n\t\t\tYeah, you can get your hand off my chest.\n\nHardemeyer smiles and drops his hand.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tI'm Jack Hardemeyer.  I'm the mayor's assistant.\n\t\t\tWhat can I do for you?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm an old friend of the mayor's.  I just\n\t\t\twant to say hello to him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (scornful)\n\t\t\tI know who you are, Doctor Venkman.  Busting\n\t\t\tany ghosts lately?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNo, that's what I want to talk to the mayor\n\t\t\tabout.  We did a little job for the city a\n\t\t\twhile back and we ended up getting sued,\n\t\t\tscrewed and tattooed by deskworms like you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (bristling)\n\t\t\tLook, you stay away from the mayor.  Next fall,\n\t\t\tbarring a disaster, he's going to be elected\n\t\t\tgovernor of this state and the last thing we\n\t\t\tneed is for him to be associated with two-bit\n\t\t\tfrauds and publicity hounds like you and your\n\t\t\tfriends.  You read me?\n\nHardemeyer walks off with the two cops.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, I get it.  But I want you to tell Lenny\n\t\t\tthat, because of you, I'm not voting for him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. MANHATTAN MUSEUM OF ART - DAY\n</b>\nThe broad front steps of the museum are crowded with tourists and\nvisitors.  Dana arrives carrying a portfolio and artist's tackle box and\nenters the museum.\n\n<b>INT. MUSEUM - RESTORATION STUDIO - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nWe are FULL-FRAME ON a larger-than-life, full-figure portrait of VIGO\nTHE CARPATHIAN, a demented and sadistic 16th century despot with an\nincredibly powerful evil presence.  Then we PULL BACK to reveal the\nstudio, which is a large open space on the top floor of the museum, lit\nby large skylights in the ceiling.  Working on the Vigo painting is\nJANOSZ POHA, a youngish art historian and painter, the head of the\ndepartment, quirky, intense and somewhat creepy.  Janosz is staring\nlongingly across the room at Dana.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe is carefully cleaning a 19th Century landscape painting, still\npreoccupied by the extraordinary near-accident with the buggy.  Janosz\nwatches her for a moment, then comes up behind her and looks over her\nshoulder.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with an East European accent)\n\t\t\tStill working on the Turner?\n\nDana jumps, startled by the intrusion.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tOh, yes, I got in a little late this morning,\n\t\t\tJanosz.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou know, you are really doing very good work\n\t\t\there.  I think soon you may be ready to assist\n\t\t\tme in some of the more important restorations.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThank you, Janosz.  I've learned a lot here,\n\t\t\tbut now that my baby's a little older, I was\n\t\t\thoping to rejoin the orchestra.\n\n<b>VIGO PAINTING\n</b>\nAt the mention of Dana's baby, the figure of Vigo miraculously turns his\nhead and looks at Dana.\n\n<b>JANOSZ AND DANA\n</b>\nNeither of them notice the movement in the painting.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (disappointed)\n\t\t\tWe'll be very sorry to lose you.  Perhaps I\n\t\t\tcould take you to lunch today?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tActually, I'm not eating lunch today.  I have\n\t\t\tan appointment.\n\t\t\t\t (looks at her watch)\n\t\t\tIn fact, I'd better go.\n\nShe starts gathering up her things.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tEvery day I ask you, and every day you've got\n\t\t\tsomething else to do.  Do I have bad breath\n\t\t\tor something?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (trying to brush him off)\n\t\t\tI'm sorry.  Perhaps some other time.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, I'll take a raincheck on that.\n\nJanosz smiles at her as she exits, then goes back to his easel.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to himself)\n\t\t\tI think she likes me.\n\nHe switches on an English language TAPE and starts practicing the\nphrases as he resumes working.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. UNIVERSITY - DAY\n</b>\nDana Barrett crosses the quad and enters a modern building.  A sign\nidentifies it as \"The Institute for Advanced Theoretical Research.\"\n\n<b>INT. UNIVERSITY - DAY (A LITTLE LATER)\n</b>\nDana is explaining the buggy incident to EGON SPENGLER, the soberly\nintellectual techno-wizard and former Ghostbuster, as he conducts an\nexperiment assisted by a research team of graduate students, all of whom\nare Japanese, Chinese, or Korean.  The device he is testing is a black\nbox about the size of a Sony Watchman with both digital and graphic\ndisplays.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t... and then the buggy just suddenly stopped\n\t\t\tdead in the middle of the street\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\n\t\t\tDid anyone else see this happen?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHundreds of people.  Believe me, I didn't\n\t\t\timagine this.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI'm not saying you did.  In science we always\n\t\t\tlook for the simplest explanation.\n\nAn ASSISTANT interrupts.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tASSISTANT\n</b>\t\t\tWe're ready, Dr. Spengler\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Assistant)\n\t\t\tWe'll start with the negative calibration.\n\nHe picks up the device and prepares to test it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (curious)\n\t\t\tWhat are you working on, Egon?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI'm trying to determine whether human\n\t\t\temotional states have a measurable effect on\n\t\t\tthe psychomagnetheric energy field.  It's a\n\t\t\ttheory Ray and I were working on when we had\n\t\t\tto dissolve Ghostbusters.\n\nAn assistant draws a curtain revealing a large picture window, actually\na two-way mirror, that looks into a small waiting room.  Inside the\nwaiting room they can see but not hear a youngish couple having a heated\narguement.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tThey think they're here for marriage\n\t\t\tcounseling.  We've kept them waiting for two\n\t\t\thours and we've been gradually increasing the\n\t\t\ttemperature in the room.\n\t\t\t\t (checking a heat sensor)\n\t\t\tIt's up to 95 degrees at the moment.  Now my\n\t\t\tassistant is going to enter and ask them if\n\t\t\tthey'd mind waiting another half-hour.\n\nAs Spengler, Dana, and the research team watch, the assistant enters the\nwaiting room and tells the couple about the new delay.  They explode\nwith anger both at him and each other while Spengler monitors them\nthrough the glass.  After recording his readings, he returns to his\nAssistant.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWe'll do the happiness index next.\n\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tI'd like to bring Ray in on your case, if\n\t\t\tit's all right with you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, whatever you think -- but not Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tOh no.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (affectedly casual)\n\t\t\tDo you ever see him?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tOccasionally\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHow is he these days?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tVenkman?  I think he was borderline for a\n\t\t\twhile there.  Then he crossed the border.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tDoes he ever mention me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tNo.  Not that I can recall.\n\nThey move to another two-way mirror through which they can see a lovely\nlittle girl playing with a wonderful array of toys.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (slightly disappointed)\n\t\t\tWell, we didn't part on very good terms and\n\t\t\twe sort of lost track of each other when I\n\t\t\tgot married.\n\nThe Assistant interrupts again.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tASSISTANT\n</b>\t\t\tWe're ready for the affection test.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the assistant)\n\t\t\tGood.  Send in the puppy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (continuing)\n\t\t\tI thought of calling him after my marriage\n\t\t\tended, but --.  Anyway, I appreciate you're\n\t\t\tdoing this, Egon\n\nThey watch as another assistant enters the playroom with an adorable\nCocker Spaniel puppy and gives it to the little girl.  Spengler monitors\nher as she jumps for joy and hugs the little dog.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (handing him a card)\n\t\t\tThis is my address and telephone number.\n\t\t\tWill you call me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tCertainly.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tEgon, I'd rather you didn't mention any of\n\t\t\tthis to Peter if you don't mind.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI won't.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThank you.\n\nShe shakes his hand and exits.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to his assistant)\n\t\t\tNow let's see how she reacts when we take\n\t\t\taway the puppy\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. RAY'S OCCULT BOOK STORE - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nIt's a small basement shop located on a quaint commercial block in\nGreenwich Village.  The window is crowded with occult artifacts and old\nbooks full of arcane metaphysical lore.  The TELEPHONE RINGS.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (v.o., answering the phone)\n\t\t\tRay's Occult.\n\n<b>INT. RAY'S OCCULT BOOKS - CONTINUOUS\n</b>\nThe shelves are jammed floor to ceiling with books on the paranormal.\nRay sits on a barstool behind the counter wearing an old cardigan\nsweater over a T-shirt.  He has on a pair of reading glasses and chews\non a battered, reeking pipe.  As he talks on the phone he prepares a cup\nof herb tea for Spengler who is thumbing through an arcane text.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on the phone)\n\t\t\tYeah ... mmhmm ... What do you need? ... What\n\t\t\thave I got?  I've got alchemy, astrology,\n\t\t\tapparitions, Bundu Magic Men, demon\n\t\t\tintercession, U.F.O. abductions, psychic\n\t\t\tsurgery, stigmata, modern miracles, pixie\n\t\t\tsightings, golden geese, geists, ghosts, I've\n\t\t\tgot it all -- what are you looking for? ...\n\t\t\tDon't have any.  Try the stockyards.\n\nHe hangs up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWho was that?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tSome crank.  Looking for goat hooves.  Come\n\t\t\tup with anything?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (referring to the book)\n\t\t\tThis one's interesting.  Berlin, 1939, a\n\t\t\tflower cart took off by itself and rolled\n\t\t\tapproximately half a kilometer over level\n\t\t\tground.  Three hundred eyewitnesses.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou might want to check those Duke University\n\t\t\tmean averaging studies on controlled\n\t\t\tpsychokinesis.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (going to the stacks)\n\t\t\tGood idea.\n\nThe bones hanging over the door rattle as Venkman enters the shop.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOh, hello, perhaps you could help me.  I'm\n\t\t\tlooking for an aerosol love potion I could\n\t\t\tspray on a certain Penthouse Pet that would\n\t\t\tmake her unconditionally submit to an unusual\n\t\t\tpersonal request.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOh, hiya, Pete.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo, no goat hooves, huh?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (strung)\n\t\t\tI knew that voice sounded familiar.  What's\n\t\t\tup?  How's it going?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNowhere -- fast.  Why don't you lock up and\n\t\t\tbuy me a sub?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (slightly evasive)\n\t\t\tUh, I can't.  I'm kind of working on something.\n\nSpengler steps out of the stacks.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tEgon!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tHello, Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHow've you been?  How's teaching?  I bet\n\t\t\tthose science chicks really dig that big\n\t\t\tcranium of yours, huh?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI think they're more interested in my\n\t\t\tepididymis.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI don't even want to know where that is.\n\nVenkman steps behind the counter and takes a beer from Ray's mini-fridge.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOh, your book came in, Venkman.  Magical\n\t\t\tPaths to Fortune and Power.\n\nHe hands Venkman the book.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tGreat.\n\t\t\t\t (reading the contents)\n\t\t\tSo what are you guys working on?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOh, just checking something for an old friend.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWho?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (at a loss)\n\t\t\tWho?  Just -- someone we know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOh, Ray --\n\nHe grabs Stantz by both ears and pulls up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWho?  Who?  Who?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tAaah!  Nobody!  I can't tell you!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWho, Ray?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (giving in)\n\t\t\tDana!  Dana Barrett!\n\nVenkman lets go of his ears and smiles.  Spengler looks at Stantz and\nshakes his head.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT. DANA'S APARTMENT - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThe apartment is old and creatively furnished with a comfortable mix of\nmodern and traditional pieces.  Maria, a young Hispanic woman who does\nday care for Dana, is feeding the baby in the kitchen when the DOORBELL\n<b>RINGS.\n</b>\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\nDana enters from the bedroom and crosses to the front door.  She opens\nit and admits Ray and Egon.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (hugging Ray)\n\t\t\tHi, Ray.  It's good to see you.  Thanks for\n\t\t\tcoming.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo problem.  Always glad to help -- and hug.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Spengler)\n\t\t\tHi, Egon.\n\nShe shakes his hand and is about to close the door when Venkman appears\nin the doorway.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHi, Dana.\n\nDana is caught completely off guard by Venkman's surprise appearance.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI knew you'd come crawling back to me.\n\nShe regards him coolly, as always amused and amazed at his\npresumptuousness.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHello, Peter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tYou know, Dana, I'm very very hurt that you\n\t\t\tdidn't call me first.  I'm still into all\n\t\t\tthis stuff, you know.  Haven't you ever seen\n\t\t\tmy show?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI have.  That's why I didn't call you first.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI can see that you're still very bitter about\n\t\t\tus, but in the interest of science, I'm going\n\t\t\tto give it my best shot.  Let's go to work,\n\t\t\tboys.\n\nStantz and Spengler begin a comprehensive parapsychological work-up on\nthe baby and the immediate physical environment.\n\n<b>VENKMAN AND DANA\n</b>\nVenkman starts nosing around the apartment.  Dana follows him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo what happened to Mr. Right?  I hear he\n\t\t\tditched you and the kid and moved to Europe.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHe didn't \"ditch\" me.  We had some problems,\n\t\t\the got a good offer from an orchestra in\n\t\t\tEngland and he took it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHe ditched you.  You should've married me,\n\t\t\tyou know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tYou never asked me, and every time I brought\n\t\t\tit up you'd get drowsy and fall asleep.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tMen are very sensitive, you know.  We need to\n\t\t\tfeel loved and desired, too.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tWell, when you started introducing me as \"the\n\t\t\told ball and chain,\" that's when I left.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI may have a few personal problems but one thing\n\t\t\tI am is a total professional.\n\nHe leaves her and crosses to Spengler.\n\n<b>SPENGLER\n</b>\nHe's taking a complete set of body and head measurements of the baby\nwith a tape measure and calipers.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat are you going to do, Egon?  Knit him a\n\t\t\tsnowsuit?\n\nSpengler ignores the remark and hands Venkman a specimen jar.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI'd like to have a stool specimen\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, you would.  Is that for personal or\n\t\t\tprofessional reasons?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (picking up the baby)\n\t\t\tOkay, kid.  Up you go.\n\nHe starts clowning with the baby, holding him over his head and pressing\nhis nose into the baby's belly, pretending that the baby is attacking\nhim.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHelp!  Please somebody help me!  Get him off!\n\t\t\tQuickly!  He's gone completely berserk!\n\nDana is amused and somewhat disarmed by Venkman's rapport with the baby.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tWhat do you think?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThere's no doubt about it.  He's got his\n\t\t\tfather's looks.  The kid is ugly -- extremely\n\t\t\tugly.  And smelly.\n\t\t\t\t (resumes playing with the baby)\n\t\t\tYou stink!  It's just horrible.  You are the\n\t\t\tstinkiest baby I ever smelled.\n\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tWhat's his name?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHis name is Oscar.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOscar!  You poor kid!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (losing patience)\n\t\t\tPeter, this is serious.  I need to know if you\n\t\t\tthink there's anything unusual about him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tUnusual?\n\t\t\t\t (holds up the baby and\n\t\t\t\t scrutinizes him)\n\t\t\tI don't know.  I haven't had a lot of\n\t\t\texperience with babies.\n\nHe looks at the baby, pulling his feet up, trying to get the sleeper\noff.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (taking the specimen jar)\n\t\t\tI'll do it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'll supervise.\n\n<b>INT. DANA'S APARTMENT - NURSERY - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nVenkman enters and finds Stantz monitoring the room.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tWell, Holmes, what do you think?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt's an interesting one, Pete.  If anything\n\t\t\twas going on it's totally subdued now.\n\nSpengler enters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Spengler)\n\t\t\tWhat now, Brainiac?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI think we should see if we can find\n\t\t\tanything abnormal on the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tFinding something abnormal on the street\n\t\t\tshouldn't be too hard.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. EAST 77TH STREET - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nDana walks down the street with Venkman, retracing the path of the\nrunaway buggy.  Spengler and Stantz follow, monitoring PKE valences from\nthe pavement and the buildings.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Dana, nostalgic)\n\t\t\tBrings back a lot of sweet memories, doesn't\n\t\t\tit?\n\t\t\t\t (pointing out familiar\n\t\t\t\t neighborhood sights)\n\t\t\tThere's our old cash machine.  And the dry\n\t\t\tcleaners we used to go to.  And the old\n\t\t\tvideo store.\n\t\t\t\t (he wipes away an imaginary\n\t\t\t\t tear)\n\t\t\tWe really had some good times, didn't we?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tWe definitely had a moment or two.\n\nDana stops at the intersection and points to the middle of the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThat's where the buggy stopped.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, let's take a look.\n\nVenkman walks right out into the middle of the street, completely\noblivious to the CARS HONKING and whizzing past him and starts motioning\nlike a traffic cop, bringing traffic to a standstill.  Then he signals\nfor Dana, Stantz and Spengler to join him in the middle of the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reading the PKE meter)\n\t\t\tIs this the spot?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tA little to the left.  Right there!  That's\n\t\t\twhere it stopped.\n\nStantz reads the PKE meter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNothing.  Not a trace.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWhy don't we try the Giga-meter?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat's that?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tEgon and I have been working on a gauge to\n\t\t\tmeasure psychomagnetheric energy in GEVs -\n\t\t\tgiga electron volts.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tThat's a thousand million electron volts.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI knew that.\n\nSpengler switches on the Giga-meter, the device he was testing in the\nlab, and passes it over the spot on the street where the buggy stopped.\nThe indicator goes right into the red zone and the DEVICE starts CLICKING\n<b>WILDLY.\n</b>\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI think we hit the honeypot, boys.  There's\n\t\t\tsomething brewing under the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (worried, to Venkman)\n\t\t\tPeter, do you think maybe I have some genetic\n\t\t\tproblem or something that makes me vulnerable\n\t\t\tto these supernatural things.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou mean like the time you got possessed and\n\t\t\tturned into a monster terror dog?  No, not\n\t\t\ta chance.  Total coincidence.\n\t\t\t\t (to Stantz and Spengler)\n\t\t\tAm I right?\n\nStantz and Spengler look at him skeptically, not convinced by the\ncoincidence theory.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MANHATTAN MUSEUM OF ART - LATE AFTERNOON\n</b>\nThe museum has just closed for the day and the last of the visitors and\nemployees are leaving.\n\n<b>INT.  RESTORATION STUDIO - SAME TIME\n</b>\nJanosz is working late on the painting of Vigo.\n\n<b>VIGO PAINTING\n</b>\nUnnoticed by Janosz, the eyes of Vigo start to glow.\n\n<b>JANOSZ\n</b>\nHe touches his brush to the canvas and a powerful current of red,\ncrackling energy surges through the brush and courses through his body,\ndriving him to his knees.\n\n<b>PAINTING\n</b>\nThe figure of Vigo comes to life, turns toward Janosz and gestures\ndramatically at him.  Then he speaks to Janosz in a commanding voice.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tI, Vigo, the scourge of Carpathia, the\n\t\t\tsorrow of Moldavia, command you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (in agony)\n\t\t\tCommand me, lord.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tOn a mountain of skulls in a castle of pain,\n\t\t\tI sat on a throne of blood.  What was will\n\t\t\tbe, what is will be no more.  Now is the\n\t\t\tseason of evil.  Find me a child that I might\n\t\t\tlive again.\n\nBolts of red-hot energy shoot from the eyes of Vigo into Janosz's eyes.\nHe screams and falls to his knees.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. COFFEE SHOP - EAST 77TH STREET - NIGHT\n</b>\nVenkman and Stantz come out with small boxes containing coffee,\nsandwiches and Danish and start walking up the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI love this.  We're onto something really\n\t\t\tbig.  I can smell it, Ray.  We're going to\n\t\t\tmake some headlines with this one.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tHey, hey, hey, stresshound!  Are you nuts?\n\t\t\tIf anybody found out about this we'd be in\n\t\t\tserious trouble.  The judge couldn't have\n\t\t\tbeen clearer - no ghostbusting.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tRelax.  We're going to keep this whole thing\n\t\t\tnice and quiet, low key, no profile.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nSpengler, wearing a hardhat, is JACKHAMMERING a hole in the middle of the\nstreet.  Safety cones and reflectors have been set up and a small area is\nlit by strong work lights.\n\n<b>POLICE CAR\n</b>\nIt turns onto East 77th Street, cruises slowly up to the makeshift\nworksite and stops.  The noise of the JACKHAMMER is so loud, Spengler\ndoesn't notice the police car and the two COPS inside looking at them.\nFinally, he looks up, sees the police car and freezes.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRST COP\n</b>\t\t\tHow ya doing?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reeking with guilt)\n\t\t\tFine!  It's cutting fine now.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRST COP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (curious)\n\t\t\tWhy are you cutting?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (looking for one of the\n\t\t\t\t others)\n\t\t\tWhy are we cutting?  Uh - boss!\n\nVenkman and Stantz arrive just in time wearing Con Ed hardhats, doing a\ngood imitation of a Consolidated Edison repairman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRST COP\n</b>\t\t\tWhat are you doing here?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (belligerent)\n\t\t\tWhat the hell's it look like we're doing?\n\t\t\tWe're bustin out asses over here 'cause\n\t\t\tsome douchebag downtown ain't got nothin'\n\t\t\tbetter to do than make idiots like us work\n\t\t\tlate on a Friday night, right?\n\t\t\t\t (looks to Spengler for\n\t\t\t\t agreement)\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with a \"right on\" fist)\n\t\t\tYo.\n\nThe cops seem satisfied by the explanation.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRST COP\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, boys, take it easy.\n\nThey drive off.  Spengler breathes a great sigh of relief and starts\nrubbing his sore shoulders.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tYou were supposed to help me with this.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou need the exercise.\n\nStantz resumes JACKHAMMERING, while Venkman and Spengler clear the\nrubble from the hole.  Suddenly he hits metal.  They clear away\ngenerations of paving material revealing an ornate iron manhole cover.\nThe manhole cover bears a strange logo and the letters NYPRR.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (examing it)\n\t\t\tNYPRR.  What the hell -- ?  Help me lift\n\t\t\tthis.\n\nThey prey off the iron cover with crowbars, uncovering a very dark and\nvery deep abyss.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shining a flashlight into\n\t\t\t\t the hole)\n\t\t\tWow!  It's an old airshaft.  It just goes\n\t\t\tforever.\n\nSpengler leans in with the giga-meter which is reading even higher now.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tVery intense.  We need a deeper reading.\n\t\t\tSomebody has to go down there.\n\nVenkman and Spengler both look at Ray.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThanks, boys.\n\nThey snap Stantz into a harness and lower him into the hole on a strong\ncable attached to a winch.  Ray calls out orders to them as he descends\ndeeper and deeper.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\t\t (his voice echoing in the\n\t\t\t\t airshaft)\n\t\t\tKeep going -- more -- more --\n\n<b>INT.  HOLE - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nStantz rappels off the sides of the airshaft as he continues his descent\nin total darkness.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (using a radio now)\n\t\t\tLower -- lower --\n\t\t\t\t (to himself)\n\t\t\tGee, this really is deep.\n\nSuddenly, his feet kick thin air as he gets to the bottom of the airshaft\nand swings free in some kind of tunnel.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouts)\n\t\t\tHold it!  Steady!\n\nHe pulls a powerful flashlight from his utility belt and shines it into\nthe tunnel below.\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - STANTZ'S POV - NIGHT\n</b>\nHe is suspended near the top of a beautifully preserved chamber with\nrounded, polished tile walls ardorned with intricate, colorfully enameled\nArt Nouveau mosaics.  A finely inlaid sign identifies it as VAN HORNE\n<b>STATION.\n</b>\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe pans the walls with his flashlight, admiring the excellent tilework,\nand speaks quietly to Venkman and Spengler over his walkie-talkie.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reverently)\n\t\t\tThis is it, boys, the end of the line.  Van\n\t\t\tHorne Station.  The old New York Pneumatic.\n\t\t\tIt's still here.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - HOLE - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nVenkman has no idea what he's talking about.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (explaining)\n\t\t\tThe New York Pneumatic Railway.  It was an\n\t\t\texperimental subway system.  Fan-forced\n\t\t\tair-trains, built around 1870.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (over the walkie-talkie)\n\t\t\tThis is about as deep as you can go under\n\t\t\tManhattan without digging your own hole.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tWhat's the reading?\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nStantz shines his flashlight on the meter and whistles at the extremely\nhigh reading.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on the radio)\n\t\t\tOff the top of the scale.  This place is\n\t\t\treally hot.  Lower me to the floor.\n\nAs Venkman and Spengler feed him some more cable, he pans his flashlight\ndown the wall of the station, then onto the floor.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouts)\n\t\t\tHold it!!  Stop!!  Whoa!!\n\n<b>INT. VAN HORNE STATION - STANTZ'S POV - FLOOR - NIGHT\n</b>\nBelow him is a river of bubbling seething, glowing slime, a veritable\ntorrent of disgusting ooze.\n\nAs he stares into the foul effluent, we become aware of the strangely\namplified and magnified sounds of great ENGINES THROBBING and pulsing in\nthe bowels of the city, of WATER RUSHING through pipes, STEAM HISSING\nthrough ducts, the muffled RUMBLE of the SUBWAY and the ROAR of TRAFFIC,\nand mixed with it all, the unmistakable sounds of human conflict and pain\n-- VOICES SHOUTING in anger, SCREAMING in fear, GROANING in pain, a sad\nand eerie symphony.\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - STANTZ - NIGHT\n</b>\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (ranting on the radio)\n\t\t\tOh, my God!  It's a seething, bubbling,\n\t\t\tpsychic cess!  Interlocked tubes of plasm,\n\t\t\tcrackling with negative GEVs!  It's glowing\n\t\t\tand moving!  It's -- it's a river of slime!!\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe dangles from the end of the cable, holding his feet up as high as he\ncan.  He unhooks a device from his utility belt and pulls the trigger on\nit, shooting out a long telescoping fishing-pole with a scoop on the end.\nReaching down, he scoops up a sample of the slime and starts retracting\nthe pole.\n\n<b>SLIME\n</b>\nSuddenly, a grotesque arm with a long skeletal fingers reaches up out of\nthe slime and snatches at Stantz's dangling feet.  He jerks his legs up\nas several more arms poke up out of the slime and reach for him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on the radio)\n\t\t\tHaul me up, Venkman!  Now!\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - HOLE - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nVenkman and Spengler start hauling in the cable as a Con Ed Supervisor's\ncar drives up, and behind it, the same police car they saw earlier.  A\nburly SUPERVISOR gets out and crosses toward them, followed by the two\ncops.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSUPERVISOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (no nonsense)\n\t\t\tOkay, what's the story here?\n\nVenkman and Spengler stop pulling up the cable and Venkman tries the\nbelligerent worker ploy again, only this time he's wearing a Nynex\nhardhat.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat, I got time for this?  We got three\n\t\t\tthousand phones out in the Village and about\n\t\t\teight million miles of cable to check.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSUPERVISOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (not buying it)\n\t\t\tThe phone lines are over there.\n\t\t\t\t (points to the curb)\n\nVenkman pops Spengler on the head.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI told ya!\n\nStantz can be heard ranting over Venkman's walkie-talkie.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\t\t (filtered)\n\t\t\tHelp!  Help!  Pull me up!  It's alive!  It's\n\t\t\teating my boots.\n\nVenkman switches off the walkie-talkie.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRST COP\n</b>\t\t\tYou ain't with Con Ed or the phone company.\n\t\t\tWe checked.  Tell me another one.\n\nVenkman stares at the Cop for a long moment.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tGas leak?\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - SAME TIME\n</b>\nStantz is hanging there, looking down into the shaft at the slime which\nis now bubbling up the shaft after him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouting)\n\t\t\tGet me out of here!!\n\nDesperate now, he kicks wildly and knocks loose a section of an old,\nrusting conduit.\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - BOTTOM OF THE SHAFT\n</b>\nThe conduit falls on a heavy electrical transmission line, ripping\nthrough the cable with a SHOWER OF SPARKS.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - HOLE - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n</b>\nVenkman, Spengler, the cops and the supervisor all react to a bright\nFLASH deep down in the hole and a SHOUT from Stantz.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - STREET - NIGHT\n</b>\nOne by one, all the streetlights go out; then the lights on all the\nbuildings along East 77th street; then the whole neighborhood blacks\nout, and finally the entire city is plunged into darkness.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\tSorry.\n\n<b>INT. DANA BARRETT'S APARTMENT - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nShe walks around in the dark lighting candles and placing them all over\nthe living room.  Then she finds a transistor radio and turns it on for\ninformation about the blackout.  She listens to a special news report\nfor a moment, then has a compelling impulse to go check on the baby.\nShe crosses to the nursery carrying a candle and quietly opens the door\nand looks in.  Suddenly the DOORBELL RINGS, scaring her half to death.\nLeaving the chain on the door, she opens it a crack and sees Janosz\nstanding in the hall, eerily lit by a red emergency spot at the end of\nthe hallway.  He looks slightly dazed and even creepier.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (surprised)\n\t\t\tJanosz?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tHello, Dana.  I happened to be in the\n\t\t\tneighborhood and I thought I'd stop by to\n\t\t\tsee if everything's all right with you --\n\t\t\tyou know, with the blackout and everything?\n\t\t\tAre you okay?  Is the baby all right?\n\nHis affected concern is chilling.  She is frightened but conceals it\nfrom him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (mechanically and cautiously)\n\tWe're fine, Janosz.\n\nHe tires to look around her into the apartment.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tDo you need anything?  You want me to come\n\t\t\tin?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tNo, everything's fine.  Honestly.  Thanks\n\t\t\tanyway.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, just thought I'd check.  Good night,\n\t\t\tDana.  Sleep well.  Don't let the bedbugs\n\t\t\tbite you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tGood night, Janosz.\n\nShe closes the door behind him and double locks it, then stands there\nstaring into the candlelight, alone and afraid.\n\n<b>INT.  HALLWAY OF DANA'S BUILDING - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nJanosz stands there in semi-darkness, then his eyes light up like\nheadlights and he walks off down the hall.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - WITNESS STAND - NEXT DAY\n</b>\nThe JUDGE, a rather sour-looking jurist of the old school, calls the\ncourt to order.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tI want to make one thing very clear before\n\t\t\twe go any further.  The law does not recognize\n\t\t\tthe existence of ghosts, and I don't believe\n\t\t\tin them either, so I don't want to hear a\n\t\t\tlot of malarkey about goblins and spooks and\n\t\t\tdemons.  We're going to stick to the facts\n\t\t\tin this case and save the ghost stories for\n\t\t\tthe kiddies.  Understood?\n\n<b>DEFENSE TABLE\n</b>\nStantz leans over and whispers to Spengler.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tSeems like a pretty open-minded guy, huh?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tHis nickname is \"The Hammer.\"\n\nStantz and Spengler are seated with their attorney LOUIS TULLY, lawyer,\nCPA and former demonic possession victim.  Louis is desperately paging\nthrough a mountain of legal textbooks.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (nervous)\n\t\t\tI think you're making a big mistake here,\n\t\t\tfellas.  I do mostly tax law and some probate\n\t\t\tstuff occasionally.  I got my law degree at\n\t\t\tnight school.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThat's all right.  We got arrested at night.\n\n<b>SPECTATORS' GALLERY\n</b>\nVenkman is talking to Dana at the wooden rail in front of the gallery.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI wish I could stay.  I feel personally\n\t\t\tresponsible for you being here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou are personally responsible.  If I can\n\t\t\tget conjugal rights, will you visit me at\n\t\t\tSing Sing?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tPlease don't say that.  You won't go to prison.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDon't worry about me.  I'm like a cat.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tYou mean you cough up hairballs all over\n\t\t\tthe rug?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm El Gato.  I always land on my feet.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (sincerely)\n\t\t\tGood luck.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThanks.\n\nShe gives him a quick, unexpected kiss and exits.  Venkman savors it for\na moment then goes back to the defense table.\n\n<b>PROSECUTION TABLE\n</b>\nJack Hardemeyer, the mayor's principal aide, is goading the PROSECUTOR,\na very sober, humorless woman in her late thirties.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tHow are you doing, hon?  Just put these guys\n\t\t\taway fast and make sure they go away for a\n\t\t\tlong, long time.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tIt shouldn't be hard with this list of charges.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tGood.  Very good.  The mayor and future\n\t\t\tgovernor won't forget this.\n\nHe smiles conspiratorially and makes a point of passing the defense table\non his way out of the courtroom.\n\n<b>DEFENSE TABLE\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters look up as Hardemeyer approaches.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (gloating)\n\t\t\tNice going, Venkman.  Violating a judicial\n\t\t\trestraining order, willful destruction of\n\t\t\tpublic property, fraud, malicious mischief\n\t\t\t-- smooth move.  See you in a couple years\n\t\t\t-- at your first parole hearing.\n\nHerdemeyer exits.  Louis looks devastated.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tGee, the whole city's against us.  I think\n\t\t\tI'm going to be sick.\n\nSpengler hands him a waste basket as the Prosecutor calls her first\nwitness.\n\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - WITNESS STAND - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThe Con Ed Supervisor is testifying.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tMr. Fianella, please look at Exhibits A\n\t\t\tthrough F on the table over there.  Do you\n\t\t\trecognize that equipment?\n\n<b>EXHIBIT TABLE\n</b>\nLying on the table are the basic tools of the Ghostbusting trade: three\nproton packs and particle throwers, a couple of ghost traps, and various\nmeters and detection devices.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCON ED\n</b>\t\t\t\t (o.c.)\n\t\t\tThat's the stuff the cops found in their\n\t\t\ttruck.\n\n<b>WITNESS STAND\n</b>\nShe continues.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tDo you know what this equipment is used for?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCON ED\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shrugs)\n\t\t\tI don't know.  Catching ghosts, I guess.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Judge)\n\t\t\tMay I remind the court that the defendants\n\t\t\tare under a judicial restraining order that\n\t\t\tspecifically forbids them from performing\n\t\t\tservices as paranormal investigators and\n\t\t\teliminators.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tSo noted.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tNow, Mr. Fianella, can you identify the\n\t\t\tsubstance in the jar on the table marked\n\t\t\tExhibit F?\n\n<b>PROSECUTOR\n</b>\nShe goes to the exhibit table and picks up a specimen jar containing the\nslime sample Stantz removed from the tunnel.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCON ED\n</b>\t\t\tI been working underground for Con Ed for\n\t\t\t27 years and I never saw anything like that\n\t\t\tin my life.  We checked out that tunnel the\n\t\t\tnext day and we didn't find nothing.  If it\n\t\t\twas down there, they must have put it there.\n\n<b>DEFENSE TABLE\n</b>\nVenkman and Spengler look at Stantz.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (defensively)\n\t\t\tHey, I didn't imagine it.  There must have\n\t\t\tbeen ten thousand gallons of it down there.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tIt may be ebbing and flowing from some tidal\n\t\t\tsource.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (nervously)\n\t\t\tShould I say that?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI doubt that they'd believe us.\n\nLouis moans and goes back to his notes.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t WIPE TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - WITNESS STAND - LATER\n</b>\nVenkman himself is on the stand and Louis is questioning him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tSo like you were just trying to help out\n\t\t\tyour old friend because she was scared and\n\t\t\tyou didn't really mean to do anything bad\n\t\t\tand you really love the city and won't ever\n\t\t\tdo anything like this again, right?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tObjection, your Honor.  He's leading the\n\t\t\twitness.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tThe witness is leading him.  Sustained.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, let me rephrase that question.\n\t\t\t\t (to venkman)\n\t\t\tDidn't you once coach a basketball team for\n\t\t\tunderprivileged children?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYes, I did.  We were city champs.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tObjection.  Irrelevant and immaterial.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tSustained.  Mr. Tully, do you have anything\n\t\t\tto ask this witness that may have some\n\t\t\tbearing on this case?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Venkman)\n\t\t\tDo I?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I think you've helped them enough already.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Judge)\n\t\t\tNo, I guess not.\n\t\t\t\t (to the Prosecutor)\n\t\t\tYour witness.\n\nThe Prosecutor rises and approaches the witness stand with relish.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tSo, Dr. Venkman, please explain to the court\n\t\t\twhy it is you and your co-defendants took it\n\t\t\tupon yourselves to dig a big hole in the\n\t\t\tmiddle of the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSeventy-seventh and First Avenue has so many\n\t\t\tholes already we didn't think anyone would\n\t\t\tnotice.\n\nThe gallery laughs and the Judge gavels for order.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tKeep that up, mister, and I'll find you in\n\t\t\tcontempt.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSorry, your Honor, but when somebody sets\n\t\t\tme up like that I can't resist.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tI'll ask you again, Dr. Venkman.  Why were\n\t\t\tyou digging the hole?  And please remember\n\t\t\tthat you're under oath.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI had my fingers crossed when they swore me\n\t\t\tin, but I'm going to tell you the truth.\n\t\t\tThere are things in this world that go way\n\t\t\tbeyond human understanding, things that\n\t\t\tcan't be explained and that most people don't\n\t\t\twant to know about anyway.  That's where we\n\t\t\tcome in.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tSo what are you saying?  That the world of\n\t\t\tthe supernatural is your special province?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I guess I'm just saying that shit happens\n\t\t\tand somebody has to deal with it.\n\nThe spectators in the gallery cheer and the judge gavels for order.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t WIPE TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - LATER\n</b>\nThe trial is nearing its end.  The Judge calls on Louis to make his\nsummation.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tDoes the counsel for the defense wish to\n\t\t\tmake any final arguements?\n\nLouis rises.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tYour honor, may I approach the bench?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (impatient)\n\t\t\tYes.\n\nLouis crosses to the judge's bench.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the judge)\n\t\t\tCan I have some of your water?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tGet on with it, counselor!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (scared)\n\t\t\tYour honor, ladies and gentlemen of the --\n\t\t\t\t (he remembers there's no\n\t\t\t\t jury)\n\t\t\taudience.  I don't think it's fair to call\n\t\t\tmy clients frauds.  Okay, the blackout was\n\t\t\ta big problem for everybody.  I was stuck in\n\t\t\tan elevator for about three hours and I had\n\t\t\tto go to the bathroom the whole time, but I\n\t\t\tdon't blame them because once I turned into\n\t\t\ta dog and they helped me.  Thank you.\n\nHe goes back to the defense table and sits down.  Stantz and Spengler\nhang their heads.  Venkman pats Louis on the back.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Louis)\n\t\t\tWay to go.  Concise and to the point.\n\n<b>JUDGE\n</b>\nHe stares at Louis, astonished at his summation.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tThat's it?  That's all you have to say?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tDid I forget something?\n\nHe searches through a disorderly pile of notes.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tThat was unquestionably the worst\n\t\t\tpresentation of a case I've ever heard in a\n\t\t\tcourt of law!  I ought to cite you for\n\t\t\tcontempt and have you disbarred.  As for\n\t\t\tyour clients, Peter Venkman, Raymond Stantz\n\t\t\tand Egon Spengler, on the charges of\n\t\t\tconspiracy, fraud and the willful destruction\n\t\t\tof public property, I find you guilty on all\n\t\t\tcounts.  I order you to pay fines in the\n\t\t\tamount of $25,000 each and I sentence you to\n\t\t\teighteen months in the city correctional\n\t\t\tfacility at Ryker's Island.\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe sees the activity in the jar\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tUh-oh, she's twitchin'.\n\n<b>THE BENCH\n</b>\nThe Judge continues\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tAnd on a more personal note, let me go on\n\t\t\trecord as saying that there is no place in\n\t\t\tdecent society for fakes, charlatans and\n\t\t\ttricksters like you who prey on the\n\t\t\tgullibility of innocent people.  You're\n\t\t\tbeneath the contempt of this court.  And\n\t\t\tbelieve me, if my hands were not tied by the\n\t\t\tunalterable fetters of the law, a law which\n\t\t\thas become in my view far too permissive and\n\t\t\tinadequate in it's standards of punishment,\n\t\t\tI would invoke the tradition of our\n\t\t\tillustrious forebearers, reach back to a\n\t\t\tsterner, purer justice and have you burned\n\t\t\tat the stake!\n\nHe hammers the bench with his gravel as the gallery erupts noisily.  Then\nhe feels a LOW RUMBLING TREMOR in the courtroom.\n\n<b>SPECIMEN JAR\n</b>\nThe slime starts to pulse and swell, pushing up the lid on the jar.\n\n<b>DEFENSE TABLE\n</b>\nStantz anticipates big trouble.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tUnder the table, boys!\n\nThe Ghostbusters duck under the defense table.\n\n<b>LOUIS\n</b>\nHe stands up and looks around fearfully.\n\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - GHOST BATTLE - DAY\n</b>\nEverybody is silent now as the rumbling increases.  All eyes turn to the\nexhibit table.  Then suddenly all Hell breaks loose as TWO FULL-TORSO\nAPPARITIONS explode out of the specimen jar.\n\n<b>JUDGE\n</b>\nHe looks up in terror at the two huge apparitions looming above him and\nrecognizes them immediately.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (in horror)\n\t\t\tOh, my God!  The Scoleri Brothers!\n\n<b>SCOLERI BROTHERS\n</b>\nBig in life, even bigger in death, the ghostly Scoleri brothers seem ten\nfeet tall.  They are strapped into electric chairs and on their heads are\nmetal electrocution caps with live, sparking electrical wires still\nattached.  Twenty-five hundred volts of electricity shoot through their\nbodies as they start to break free of the leather restraints, trying to\nget at the Judge.\n\n<b>JUDGE\n</b>\nHolding his gavel like a pitiful weapon, he crawls over to the defense\ntable where Venkman, Stantz and Spengler are now crouched, assessing the\nspectral intruders.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (terrified)\n\t\t\tYou've got to do something!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWho are they?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tThey're the Scoleri Brothers.  I tried them\n\t\t\tfor murder.  They were electrocuted up at\n\t\t\tOssining in '48.  Now they want to kill me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tMaybe they just want to appeal.\n\n<b>SCOLERI BROTHERS\n</b>\nThey break loose from the electric chairs, then turn toward the defense\ntable and BLAST it with HIGH-VOLTAGE FINGER-LIGHTNING.\n\n<b>PROSECUTOR\n</b>\nShe sprints for the door, pursued by one of the Scoleri brothers.\n\n<b>GHOSTBUSTERS\n</b>\nThey jump to safety behind the rail of the jury box, pulling the Judge\nwith them.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThese boys aren't playing around.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (desperately)\n\t\t\tYou've got to stop them.  Please!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (thinking like a lawyer)\n\t\t\tViolating a judicial restraining order could\n\t\t\texpose my clients to serious criminal\n\t\t\tpenalties.  As their attorney I'd have to\n\t\t\tadvise them against it.\n\n<b>SCOLERI BROTHERS\n</b>\nThey start punching through the jury box.\n\n<b>JUDGE\n</b>\nHe is just about hysterical with fear.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tAll right!  All right!  I'm recinding the\n\t\t\torder.  Case dismissed!!\n\t\t\t\t (he pounds his gavel on\n\t\t\t\t the floor)\n\t\t\tNow do something!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tLet's go to work, boys.\n\nWith that, the Ghostbusters leap over the rail of the jury box and dash\nacross the courtroom to the exhibit table where their proton packs were\nbeing displayed as evidence.  They strap them on hastily as the Brothers\ncontinue tearing up the seats looing for the Judge.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (slinging the pack onto\n\t\t\t\t his back)\n\t\t\tGeez, I forgot how heavy these things are.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (grabbing other gear)\n\t\t\tOkay, let's heat 'em up!\n\nThey flip the power switches on their packs and draw their particle\nthrowers.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tAll right, throwers.  Set for full neutronas\n\t\t\ton stream.\n\nThey switch on their throwers and turn to face the raging phantasms.\n\n<b>SCOLERI BROTHERS\n</b>\nThey are just about to wipe out the Judge when a loud shout distracts\nthem.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHey!  Why don't you pick on someone your own\n\t\t\tsize?\n\nThe towering ghosts turn in a fury and raise their arms, ready to shoot\nlightning at their new adversaries.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the others)\n\t\t\tOn my signal, boys.  Open 'em up -- Now!\n\nThey all pull their triggers and the wands EXPLODE with incredible\npowerful STREAMS OF ENERGY, doing even more damage to the courtroom.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSpengs, take the door.  Ray, let's try and\n\t\t\twork them down and into the corner.\n\nWorking as a team, they gradually confine the Scoleri Brothers with the\nstreams, forcing them closer and closer to the traps Ray has set out on\nthe floor.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWatch it!  I'm coming under you, Pete.\n\nThey circle around the two ghosts, prodding them with the streams while\nducking the lightning bolts shooting from their fingers.  Finally, Ray\nsees his chance and pops open the traps which emit inverted pyramids of\nlight energy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tSteady -- watch your streams -- easy now --\n\t\t\tVenky, bring him left -- Spengy, pull him\n\t\t\tdown -- trapping -- trapping -- now!\n\nHe stomps on a control pedal and the Scoleri Brothers are drawn into the\ntraps which snap shut.\n\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - TRAPS - DAY\n</b>\nLEDs on the outer casing start flashing, indicating the presence of a\nghost inside each trap.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (checking the trap)\n\t\t\tOccupado.\n\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - JUDGE - DAY (AFTER GHOST BATTLE)\n</b>\nHe sticks his head up slowly from behind the debris of his bench and\nlooks around in total amazement.\n\n<b>LOUIS\n</b>\nHe crawls out from under a chair.  Reporters and spectators get back on\ntheir feet and start buzzing about the incredible manifestation.\n\n<b>PROSECUTOR\n</b>\nShe's lying on the floor, attended to by the Bailiff and the Court Clerk.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Prosecutor)\n\t\t\tBrilliant summation.\n\n<b>GHOSTBUSTERS\n</b>\nThey break into big smiles as photographers start snapping pictures of\nthem standing in the wrecked courtroom.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tCase closed, boys.  We're back in business.\n\nThe spectators cheer and applaud.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  FIREHOUSE - DAY\n</b>\nThe old, dilapidated Ghostbusters logo comes crashing to the ground,\ndropped by a pair of workmen on a ladder, and the new logo is hoisted\ninto place over the main entrance.  It's just like the original \"No\nGhosts\" logo, but in the new one the ghost in the red circle is holding\nup two fingers.  Venkman enters the firehouse.\n\n<b>INT.  BEDROOM SET (TV COMMERCIAL - FULL SCREEN VIDEO) - NIGHT\n</b>\nA man and his wife are lying in bed reading.  The man is played by Louis\nTully and JANINE MELNITZ, the Ghostbusters' once and future receptionist,\nis playing his wife.  They are both terrible actors.  Suddenly, a ghost,\nactually a very bad puppet on a wire, floats through the bedroom.  Janine\nsees it and screams.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tWhat is it, honey?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tIt's that darn ghost again!  I don't know\n\t\t\twhat to do anymore.  He just won't leave us\n\t\t\talone.  I guess we'll just have to move.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tDon't worry.  We're not moving.  He is.\n\nHe picks up the phone.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tWho are you going to call?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with a wink)\n\t\t\tGhostbusters.\n\nAs he starts to dial, the CAMERA PULLS BACK to reveal the Ghostbusters\nstanding in the bedroom.  Their acting isn't much better than Louis and\nJanine's.\n\n<b>GHOSTBUSTERS\n</b>\nStantz speaks directly TO the CAMERA.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI'm Ray --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm Peter --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI'm Egon --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tAnd we're the ...\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tALL\n</b>\t\t\t\t (together)\n\t\t\tGhostbusters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThat's right -- Ghostbusters.  We're back\n\t\t\tand we're better than ever with twice the\n\t\t\tknow-how and twice the particle-power to\n\t\t\tdeal with all your supernatural elimination\n\t\t\tneeds.\n\nDuring his speech, Winston can be seen in the b.g. pretending to trap the\nfake ghost.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tCareful, Winston.  He's a mean one.\n<b>\t\t\t\t (TO CAMERA)\n</b>\t\t\tAnd to celebrate our grand reopening, we're\n\t\t\tgiving you twice the value with our special\n\t\t\thalf-price 'Welcome Back' service plan.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHold on, Ray!  Half-price!  Have you gone\n\t\t\tcrazy?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI guess so, Pete, because that's not all.\n\t\t\tTell them what else we've got, Egon.\n\nSpengler actually mouths everyone else's dialogue along with them,\nwaiting for his cue.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tYou mean the Ghostbusters hot beverage\n\t\t\tthermal mugs and free balloons for the kids?\n\nHe holds up a mug and a limp, uninflated balloon.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou bet.\n\nAs Stantz wraps it up, SUPERS APPEAR at the bottom of the SCREEN: FULLY\n<b>BONDED - FULLY LICENSED - SE HABLA ESPANOL.\n</b>\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b><b>\t\t\t\t (TO CAMERA)\n</b>\t\t\tSo don't wait another minute.  Make your\n\t\t\tsupernatural problem our supernatural problem.\n\t\t\tCall now, because we're still --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tALL\n</b>\t\t\t\t (in unison, mechanically)\n\t\t\t-- Ready to believe you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  JACK HARDEMEYER'S OFFICE - DAY\n</b>\nHardemeyer is watching the Ghostbusters commercial on a TV in his office.\nHe bangs his fist on his desk and angrily switches OFF the TV.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  FIREHOUSE - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThe garage door opens and the new improved ECTOMOBILE comes ROARING out\nonto the street, its ghostly SIREN MOANING and WAILING.  Louis comes\nrunning out after it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - DAY\n</b>\nLouis comes back into the garage bay and stops as he smells a foul odor.\nHe sniffs around, following the smell.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh, geez, smells like somebody took a really\n\t\t\tbig --\n\nHe freezes.\n\n<b>INT. OFFICE AREA - LOUIS'S POV\n</b>\nSlimer, a spud-like green ghost, is hovering over Louis's desk, scarfing\ndown Louis's bag lunch.  Slimer looks up and sees Louis.\n\n<b>SLIMER AND LOUIS\n</b>\nThey both scream and run off in opposite directions.\n\n<b>SLIMER\n</b>\nHe passes right through a wall and disappears.\n\n<b>LOUIS\n</b>\nHe runs right into a wall, recovers and exits in a hurry.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (screaming)\n\t\t\tHelp!  There's a thing!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  CENTRAL PARK RESERVOIR - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nRunners of both sexes and all ages are huffing and puffing as they jog\nalong the track that circles the reservoir.  One of the runners looks\nbehind him at the sound of APPROACHING FOOTFALLS and screams.\n\n<b>GHOSTLY JOGGER\n</b>\nA ghost jogger is loping along at a pretty fair pace.  Other runners\nstumble and run screaming into the park as he passes them.  Seemingly\noblivious to the effect he's having, the ghost jogger puts two fingers to\nhis skeletal neck and checks his watch as if taking his pulse.\n\n<b>EXT. CLEARING IN PARK - DAY (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nVenkman is sitting on a park bench near the jogging track reading the\nnewspaper, eating a donut and drinking coffee from a Styrofoam cup.\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe's sitting on a bench opposite Venkman's, casually watching the jogging\ntrack.\n\n<b>GHOST JOGGER\n</b>\nHe approaches the benches where the Ghostbusters are waiting.  As the\nghost jogger passes the benches, Stantz and Venkman simultaneously hit\nconcealed control buttons.  A ghost trap buried in the track throws up a\nglowing inverted pyramid and catches the ghost jogger in mid-stride.\nStantz and Venkman close the trap and capture the ghost jogger.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (checking his watch)\n\t\t\tYou know he ran that last lap in under six\n\t\t\tminutes?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIf he wasn't dead he'd be an Olympic\n\t\t\tprospect.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  JEWELRY STORE - DAY\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters come out carrying smoking traps, wearing cheap\ndime-store Santa Claus hats.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the client)\n\t\t\tMerry Christmas!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  FIFTH AVENUE - ORREFORS GLASS STORE - DAY\n</b>\nThe Ectomobile is parked at the curb and a curious crowd looks on as the\nGhostbusters enter the store.\n\n<b>INT.  ORREFORS GLASS STORE - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n</b>\nAll the precious crystal is floating in the air, several feet above the\nglass shelves and display tables.  Stantz and Venkman are talking to the\nmanager while Winston and Spengler set up an array of electronic devices\npositioned in each corner of the store.\n\nOn a signal from Stantz, Spengler and Winston switch on the devices which\nthrow laser-type beams around the perimeter of the store.  The manager\nwatches in horror as all the GLASSWARE suddenly drops out of the air,\nSMASHES through the GLASS SHELVES and SHATTERS on the display tables.\nThere is a long pregnant pause.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the manager)\n\t\t\tSo will that be cash or a check?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - RESTORATION STUDIO - DAY (LATE AFTERNOON)\n</b>\nEveryone else has gone home.  Dana is cleaning her brushes and putting\nher supplies away.\n\n<b>VIGO PAINTING - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n</b>\nVigo turns his head and watches Dana as she walks past the painting.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe stops, vaguely aware of the movement, and looks up curiously at the\npainting.  As she starts to walk on, Vigo looks at her again, but Dana\nturns suddenly and catches the movement.  Frightened now, she hastily\nleaves the studio.\n\n<b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - DAY\n</b>\nLouis is lurking behind a pillar, peeking out at the office area.  We PAN\nDOWN TO the floor and see a foot pedal, then PAN ALONG the cord TO a\nghost trap sitting on Louis's desk.  Hanging from strings over the desk\nare several pieces of Kentucky fried chicken.\n\n<b>WALL\n</b>\nSlimer partially emerges and furtively sniffs the air, then spots the\nchicken bait.  He licks his lips, materializes completely and flies to\nthe chicken.\n\n<b>LOUIS\n</b>\nHis eyes light up and he stomps the foot pedal.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouts)\n\t\t\tGotcha!\n\n<b>DESK\n</b>\nThe trap pops open and shoots out a powerful cone of energy.  Slimer\ndodges it and escapes as a big section of the ceiling comes crashing down\non Louis's desk.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (seeing the damage)\n\t\t\tUh-oh.\n\nHe slinks off, defeated.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MANHATTAN MUSEUM OF ART - SECURITY DESK - DAY\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters commercial is playing on a portable TV on the security\ndesk.  Rudy, the Security Guard, is reading a National Enquirer with a\ngiant front-page headline: GHOSTBUSTERS SAVE JUDGE.  Venkman enters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm looking for Dana Barrett.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSECURITY GUARD\n</b>\t\t\tRoom 304 -- Restorations.\n\t\t\t\t (recognizing him)\n\t\t\tHey!  Dr. Venkman -- 'World of the Psychic.'\n\t\t\tI'm a big, big fan.  That used to be one of\n\t\t\tmy two favorite shows.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (flattered)\n\t\t\tThanks.  What's the other one?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSECURITY GUARD\n</b>\t\t\t'Bass Masters.'  It's a fishing show.  Ever\n\t\t\tsee it?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, really great.  Take it easy.\n\nHe exits.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - RESTORATION STUDIO - DAY (MOMENTS LATER)\n</b>\nDana is working on a valuable Flemish still-life by Ver Meer.  Janosz is\nat the other end of the room, still working on the painting of Vigo.\nVenkman enters and sneaks up behind Dana.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (looking at the Ver Meer)\n\t\t\tSo this is what you do, huh?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (glad to see him)\n\t\t\tOh, hello, Peter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou're really good, you know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI didn't paint it.  I'm just cleaning it.\n\t\t\tIt's an original Ver Meer.  It's worth about\n\t\t\tten million dollars.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nHe turns his head and watches Venkman and Dana.\n\n<b>VENKMAN\n</b>\nUnaware that he's being watched, Venkman squints at the still life,\nholding up his thumb like he's seen artists do.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou know you can go to Art World and get\n\t\t\tthese huge sofa-size paintings for about\n\t\t\tforty-five bucks.\n\nHe starts looking around at the other artwork in the studio.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI'm sure you didn't come here just to talk\n\t\t\tabout art.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAs a matter of fact, I stopped by to tell\n\t\t\tyou that I haven't forgotten your problem\n\t\t\tand that we're still on the case.\n\nThey are interrupted by the sudden appearance of Janosz.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (smiling at Venkman)\n\t\t\tDana, aren't you going to introduce me to\n\t\t\tyour friend?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tOh, I'm sorry.  This is Peter Venkman.\n\t\t\tPeter, Janosz Poha.\n\nVenkman warily shakes his hand, trying to size him up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (avoiding his gaze)\n\t\t\tPleasure to meet you.  I've seen you on\n\t\t\ttelevision.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHow are you?\n\t\t\t\t (looking over at the Vigo\n\t\t\t\t painting)\n\t\t\tWhat's that you're working on, Johnny?\n\nJanosz winces at the nickname but lets it go.  Venkman and Dana cross to\nthe Vigo painting.  Janosz steps protectively in front of it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt's a painting I'm restoring for the new\n\t\t\tByzantine exhibition.  It's a self-portrait\n\t\t\tof Prince Vigo, the Carpathian.  He ruled\n\t\t\tmost of Carpathia and Moldavia in the 17th\n\t\t\tCentury.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (staring at the painting)\n\t\t\tToo bad for the Moldavians.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (defensive)\n\n\t\t\tHe was a very powerful magician.  A genius\n\t\t\tin many ways and quite a skilled painter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHe was also a lunatic and a genocidal madman.\n\t\t\tI hate this painting.  I've felt very\n\t\t\tuncomfortable since they brought it up from\n\t\t\tstorage.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, it's not the kind of thing you'd want\n\t\t\tto hang in the rec room.  You know what it\n\t\t\tneeds?\n\t\t\t\t (picking up a brush)\n\t\t\tA fluffy little white kitten in the corner.\n\nVenkman reaches toward the painting, but Janosz grabs his hand.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with forced good will)\n\t\t\tWe don't go around altering valuable\n\t\t\tpaintings, Dr. Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWell, I'd make an exception in this case if\n\t\t\tI were you.\n\nDana looks disapprovingly at Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Janosz)\n\t\t\tI'll let you get back to it.  Nice meeting\n\t\t\tyou.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tMy pleasure.\n\nVenkman and Dana cross back to her workspace.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (confidentially)\n\t\t\tI may be wrong, but I think you've got a\n\t\t\tlittle crush on this guy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tGood-bye, Peter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (dragging his feet)\n\t\t\tI'd like to stay, but I really don't have\n\t\t\ttime to hang around here.  I'll call you.\n\t\t\t\t (calls out to Janosz)\n\t\t\tLater, Johnny!\n\nHe exits.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nVigo turns his head and follows Dana as she returns to her workbench.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe stops, vaguely aware of the movement, and looks up curiously at the\npainting.  As she starts to walk on, Vigo looks at her again, but Dana\nturns suddenly and catches the movement.  Frightened now, she hastily\nleaves the studio.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - LIVING QUARTERS - CONTINUOUS ACTION - DAY\n</b>\nVenkman and Winston enter and find Stantz and Spengler at work in the lab\narea.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOh good, you're here.  Spengler and I have\n\t\t\tsomething really amazing to show you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Spengler)\n\t\t\tIt's not that thing you do with your\n\t\t\tnostrils, is it?\n\nStantz goes to the refrigerator, opens the freezer, rummages around among\nthe TV dinners and frozen pizza and pulls out a slime specimen in a\nTupperware container.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Venkman)\n\t\t\tWe've been studying the stuff that we took\n\t\t\tfrom the subway tunnel.\n\nHe pops the specimen jar in the microwave and lets it thaw for a minute.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAnd now you're going to eat it?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I'm just restoring it to its normal state.\n\nHe takes the specimen out of the microwave and pours some of it into a\nlarge Petri dish.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNow watch this.\n\nHe leans over the specimen and starts shouting at it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (simulating anger)\n\t\t\tYou worthless piece of slime!!\n\t\t\t\t (as the slime starts to\n\t\t\t\t twitch and glow)\n\t\t\tYou ignorant disgusting blob!!\n\n<b>SPECIMEN\n</b>\nIt bubbles and swells, changing color with each insult.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou foul, obnoxious muck!!\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe continues venting his rage on the slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI've seen some real crud in my time, but\n\t\t\tyou're a chemical disgrace!!\n\nThe specimen doubles its size and starts spilling over the rim of the\nPetri dish.\n\n<b>STANTZ AND SPENGLER\n</b>\nThey turn to Venkman for his reaction.  He's dumbfounded.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThis is what you do with your spare time?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (very excited)\n\t\t\tThis is an incredible breakthrough, Venkman.\n\t\t\tA psychoreactive substance!  Whatever this\n\t\t\tis, it clearly responds to human emotional\n\t\t\tstates.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t'Mood slime.'  We ought to bottle this stuff\n\t\t\tand sell it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWe've found it at every event site we've\n\t\t\tbeen to lately.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (poking at the slime)\n\t\t\tYou mean this stuff actually feeds on 'bad\n\t\t\tvibes'?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tLike a goat on garbage.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWe're running tests to see if we can get an\n\t\t\tequally strong positive reaction.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat kind of tests?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (a little embarrassed)\n\t\t\tWell, we sing to it, we talk to it, we say\n\t\t\tsupportive, nurturing things --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou're not sleeping with this stuff, are you?\n\nSpengler reacts as if he might be.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt really responds to music.\n\t\t\t\t (to Spengler)\n\t\t\tLet's calm it down.\n\nSpengler picks up a guitar and he and Stantz start singing \"Cumbaya\" to\nthe slime specimen.\n\n<b>SPECIMEN\n</b>\nIt stops bubbling and starts to shrink.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tDoes it have any favorites?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt likes all the sappy stuff: 'Cumbaya,'\n\t\t\t'Everything is Beautiful,' 'It's a Small\n\t\t\tWorld' -- but it loves Jackie Wilson.\n\nVenkman and Winston watch intently as Spengler spoons some of the\npsych-reactive slime onto an old toaster.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWatch this.\n\nStantz turns on a CASSETTE PLAYER and Jackie Wilson's \"HIGHER AND HIGHER\"\nBLASTS from the speakers.\n\n<b>TOASTER\n</b>\nIt shakes, spins and actually starts moving in time with the MUSIC.\n\n<b>VENKMAN\n</b>\nHe stares in disbelief at the dancing toaster as it shoots two pieces of\ntoast into the air and catches them without missing a beat.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI don't care what you say.  This could be a\n\t\t\tmajor Christmas gift item.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tRight, and the first time someone gets mad,\n\t\t\ttheir toaster will eat their hand.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo we'll put a warning on the label.\n\nStantz turns OFF the MUSIC and the toaster stops moving.  Venkman looks\nat the toaster and sticks his fingers in the slot.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the toaster)\n\t\t\tGo ahead.  I dare you.\n\nSuddenly, he yelps as if the toaster has actually bitten into his hand\nand won't let go.  The others jump in to help him, but Venkman laughs and\neasily withdraws his hand.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tJust kidding.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  DANA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT\n</b>\nDana brings Oscar into the bathroom and lays him on the bassinet.  She's\nwearing a robe over her nightgown, preparing to bathe the baby.  She\nturns the taps on the old claw-footed bathtub, checks the water\ntemperature, then turns away and starts to undress the baby.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (talking sweetly to the\n\t\t\t\t baby)\n\t\t\tLook at you.  I think we got more food on\n\t\t\tyour shirt than we got in your mouth.\n\n<b>BATHTUB\n</b>\nThe water pouring from the faucet changes to slime and settles at the\nbottom of the tub.  Dana reaches over and turns off the water without\nlooking into the tub.  When she turns away, both taps start to spin by\nthemselves and the tub flexes and bulges.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nStill unaware, she routinely reaches over and squirts some bubble bath\ninto the tub.\n\n<b>BATHTUB\n</b>\nThe rim of the tub puckers up and the sides convulse as if swallowing the\nbubble bath.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>She picks the baby up off the bassinet and turns to place him in the tub.\nShe is just about to lower him into the water when the tub starts to\nclose up around the baby like a hugh mouth.  Dana screams, snatches the\nbaby away and runs from the room clutching Oscar to her bosom as the\nbathtub convulses and vomits up buckets of slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - SAME NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nThe big open loft space is a chaotic clutter of mismatched furniture, old\nmagazines, books, tapes, and sports equipment.  Venkman is asleep on the\nfloor, still wearing his coat, scarf, hat and gloves, having collapsed\njust short of the bedroom.  The DOORBELL RINGS, he wakes up, lumbers to\nhis feet and answers it.  He opens the door and sees Dana standing there.\nShe is wearing only a nightgown under her coat and Oscar is naked,\nwrapped in a baby blanket.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (somewhat embarrassed to\n\t\t\t\t be there)\n\t\t\tI'm sorry.  Were you on your way out?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (surprised to see her)\n\t\t\tNo, I just got in -- a couple hours ago.\n\t\t\tCome on in.\n\t\t\t\t (noting her apparel)\n\t\t\tAre we having a pajama party?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (upset)\n\t\t\tPeter, the bathtub tried to eat Oscar.\n\nVenkman looks at her for a long moment.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou know, if anyone else told me that, I'd\n\t\t\thave serious doubts.  But coming from you,\n\t\t\tI can't honestly say I'm surprised.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI must be losing my mind.  At the museum\n\t\t\ttoday I could have sworn that terrible\n\t\t\tpainting of Vigo looked right at me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWho could blame him?  Were you wearing this\n\t\t\tnightgown?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (distraught)\n\t\t\tI don't know what to do anymore.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'll get Ray and Egon to check out the\n\t\t\tbathtub.  You better stay here.\n\nHe exits to the bathroom.  She looks around the loft, amazed at the\ndisorder.  Venkman comes back immediately with an old sweatshirt and\ntakes Oscar from her.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNow this kid has a serious nudity problem.\n\nHe spreads the sweatshirt out on the sofa, lays the baby on it and starts\ntying it around him like a diaper.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the baby)\n\t\t\tThis is Joe Namath's old number, you know.\n\t\t\tYou could get a lot of chicks with this.\n\t\t\tJust don't pee in it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tPeter, what about the bathtub?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (grabs the phone and dials)\n\t\t\tWe'll take care of that.\n\t\t\t\t (on the phone)\n\t\t\tRay, Pete.  Listen, get over to Dana's right\n\t\t\taway ... Her bathtub pulled a fast one --\n\t\t\ttried to eat the kid.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tIt was full of this awful pink ooze.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Ray)\n\t\t\tSounds like another slime job ... No,\n\t\t\tthey're all right.  They're here now ...\n\t\t\tRight ... Let me know.\n\nHe hangs up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThey're going over there right now.  You\n\t\t\tmight as well make yourself at home.  Let\n\t\t\tme show you around.\n\t\t\t\t (he crosses to the kitchen area)\n\t\t\tThis is the cuisine de maison --\n\nIt's an incredible mess. The sink is piled high with dirty dishes and the\ncounters are littered with all sorts of food trash.  He grabs a big open\nHefty bag on the floor and starts throwing garbage into it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (looking at the sink)\n\t\t\tWe may have to wash some of these if you get\n\t\t\thungry --\n\t\t\t\t (he looks in the fridge)\n\t\t\t-- but there's no food anyway so forget\n\t\t\tabout it.  I have all kinds of carry-out\n\t\t\tmenus if you feel like ordering.\n\nHe opens a drawer full of pizza, barbecue and Chinese food menus, then\ncrosses to the bathroom.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tBathroom's right here -- let me just tidy\n\t\t\tup a few things.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tPeter, this is very nice, but you don't have\n\t\t\tto do any of this, you know.\n\nHe goes into the bathroom and we hear WATER RUNNING, the TOILET FLUSHING\nand more items going into the Hefty bag.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\tThe shower works but it's a little tricky.\n\t\t\tThey're both marked \"Hot.\"  It takes a little\n\t\t\tpractice, but at least this one won't try\n\t\t\tand eat you.\n\nHe comes out of the bathroom with the now-loaded Hefty bag over his\nshoulder.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tBe careful on that sofa -- it's a butt-biter.\n\t\t\tBut the bed's good and I just changed the\n\t\t\tsheets so if you get tired, feel free.  In\n\t\t\tfact, I think you should definitely plan on\n\t\t\tspending the night here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tReally?  And how would we handle the sleeping\n\t\t\tarrangements?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tFor me it's best if I sleep on my side and\n\t\t\tyou spoon up right behind me with your arms\n\t\t\taround me.  If we go the other way I'm\n\t\t\tafraid your hair will be getting in my face\n\t\t\tall night.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHow about you on the sofa and me in bed with\n\t\t\tthe baby.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOr we could do that.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThank you.\n\t\t\t\t (she picks up Oscar)\n\t\t\tPoor baby.  I think I should put him down\n\t\t\tnow.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'll put him down for you.\n\t\t\t\t (taking the baby)\n\t\t\tYou are way too short!  And your belly-button\n\t\t\tsticks out!  You're nothing but a burden to\n\t\t\tyour poor mother!\n\nVenkman carries the baby into the bedroom leaving Dana in the living\nroom, feeling more relaxed and a lot safer.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM - DAY (NEXT MORNING)\n</b>\nVenkman is waiting in front of the building as ECTO-2 pulls up and\nStantz, Spengler and Winston get out and report on Dana's apartment.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDid you find anything at Dana's?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNothing.  Just some mood-slime residue in\n\t\t\tand around the bathtub.  But we did turn up\n\t\t\tsome interesting stuff on this Vigo character\n\t\t\tyou mentioned.  I found the name Vigo the\n\t\t\tCarpathian in Leon Zundinger's Magicians,\n\t\t\tMartyrs and Madmen.  Listen to this:\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reads from xerox of entry)\n\t\t\t\"Vigo the Carpathian, born 1505, died 1610 --\"\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tA hundred and five years?  He really hung\n\t\t\ton, didn't he.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tAnd he didn't die of old age either.  He was\n\t\t\tpoisoned, stabbed, shot, hung, stretched,\n\t\t\tdisemboweled, drawn and quartered.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tI guess he wasn't too popular at the end\n\t\t\tthere.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tNo, not exactly a man of the people.\n\t\t\t\t (reads)\n\t\t\t\"Also known as Vigo the Cruel, Vigo the\n\t\t\tTorturer, Vigo the Despised, and Vigo the\n\t\t\tUnholy.\"\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThis guy was a bad monkey.  He dabbled in\n\t\t\tall the Black Arts, and listen to this\n\t\t\tprophecy.  Just before his head died, his\n\t\t\tlast words were, \"Death is but a door, time\n\t\t\tis but a window.  I'll be back.\"\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThat's it?  \"I'll be back?\"\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tIt's a rough translation from the Moldavian.\n\nThey enter the museum carrying their monitoring equipment.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - SECURITY DESK - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nRudy the guard looks up in surprise as the Ghostbusters enter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tRUDY\n</b>\t\t\tHey, Dr. Venkman.  What's going on?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWe're just going up to Restorations for a\n\t\t\tminute.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tRUDY\n</b>\t\t\tOh, I can't let you do that.  Mr. Poha told\n\t\t\tme not to let you up there anymore.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with mock seriousness)\n\t\t\tOkay, we were trying to keep this quiet but\n\t\t\tI think you can be trusted.  Tell him, Ray.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (very official)\n\t\t\tMister, you have an Ecto-paritic,\n\t\t\tsubfusionary flux in this building.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tRUDY\n</b>\t\t\tWe got a flux?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tYou got a flux and a half.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNow if you don't want to be the --\n\t\t\t\t (he counts)\n\t\t\t-- fifth person ever to die in meta-shock\n\t\t\tfrom a planar rift, I suggest you get down\n\t\t\tbehind that desk and don't move until we\n\t\t\tgive you the signal \"Stabilize -- All Clear.\"\n\nRudy gulps and starts to hunker down behind the desk as the Ghostbusters\nhead upstairs.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - RESTORATION STUDIO - DAY (MOMENTS LATER)\n</b>\nJanosz is working on the Vigo painting when the Ghostbusters enter.  He\nrushes over and stops them at the door.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tDr. Venkman?  Dana is not here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tThen why have you come?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWe got a major creep alert and we're just\n\t\t\tgoing down the list.  Your name was first.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Spengler and Winston)\n\t\t\tLet's sweep it, boys.\n\nThey deploy and start scanning the studio with their monitoring devices.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Janosz)\n\t\t\tYou know, I never got to ask you.  Where you\n\t\t\tfrom, Johnny?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (nervous)\n\t\t\tThe Upper West Side.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (consulting his PKE meter)\n\t\t\tThis entire room is extremely hot, Peter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tWhat exactly are you looking for, Dr. Venkman?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWe'll know when we find it.  You just sit\n\t\t\ttight.  This won't take long.\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nUsing the Giga-meter, he traces a strong psychomagnetheric reading to\nthe painting of Vigo in the alcove at the end of the studio.  Venkman\ncomes up behind him with Janosz right on his heels.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThis is the one that looked at Dana.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt must be the chemical fumes in the studio.\n\t\t\tPeople start imagining things --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (interrupts)\n\t\t\tI'm going to rule out the glue-sniffing\n\t\t\ttheory.  If she says it looked at her, it\n\t\t\tlooked at her.\n\t\t\t\t (to Vigo)\n\t\t\tHey, you!  Vigie!  Look at me.  I'm talking\n\t\t\tto you.  Hey!  Look at me when I'm talking\n\t\t\tto you.\n\nThey watch the painting for any sign of movement.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nHis eyes stare lifelessly into the distance.\n\n<b>STANTZ AND VENKMAN\n</b>\nVenkman starts shooting Polaroids of Vigo.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Vigo)\n\t\t\tBeautiful, beautiful.  Work with me, baby.\n\t\t\tJust have fun with it.\n\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tOkay, he's playing it cool.  Let's finish\n\t\t\tup and get out of here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI'll get one more reading.\n\nVenkman walks off leaving Stantz alone with the painting.  Stantz scans\nthe painting with the Giga-meter until his eyes meet Vigo's.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nHis eyes seems to burn right through to the depths of Stantz's soul.\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe stands there transfixed, unable to look away, as a strange and subtle\ntransformation occurs within him.  Winston comes up behind him and breaks\nthe spell.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (looking at the painting)\n\t\t\tNow that's one ugly dude.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (coming back to his senses)\n\t\t\tHuh?  What?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tYou finished here?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (distracted)\n\t\t\tWhat?  Yeah.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tAre you all right?  You coming down with\n\t\t\tsomething?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I'm fine.  I just got light-headed for\n\t\t\ta second there.  Let's go.\n\nThey head for the door.\n\n<b>JANOSZ\n</b>\nHe escorts the Ghostbusters to the door.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tSo you see, everything is in order, is it\n\t\t\tnot?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNot.  Don't leave town and report any change\n\t\t\tin your address to the proper authorities.\n\t\t\tWe'll be back.\n\nThey exit.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters cross to ECTO-2.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tThere's definitely something going on in\n\t\t\tthat studio.  The PKE levels were max-plus\n\t\t\tand the Giga-meter was showing all red.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tI'd put my money on that Vigo character.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, that's a safe bet.\n\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tYou and Spengman see what else you can dig\n\t\t\tup on Vigo and this little weasel Poha.\n\t\t\tThose two were made for each other.\n\n<b>INT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters are driving back to the firehouse.  Stantz is at the\nwheel.  His eyes are vacant, he seems distracted and very tense.  Stantz\nswerves suddenly and HONKS the horn angrily.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to another driver)\n\t\t\tIdiot!\n\t\t\t\t (honking)\n\t\t\tMove it, you jerk!\n\nVenkman and Winston exchange surprised looks.\n\n<b>EXT.  STREET - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nStantz drives extremely fast, HONKING vindictively, weaving dangerously\nthrough traffic.\n\n<b>INT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nWinston looks at Ray, concerned.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tGoing a little fast, aren't we, Ray?\n\nStantz turns on him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (viciously)\n\t\t\tAre you telling me how to drive?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I just thought --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWell don't think!\n\nHe HONKS again and tromps hard on the accelerator.\n\n<b>EXT.  STREET - DAY (CONTINUOUS)\n</b>\nEcto-2 is now barreling down the avenue.  Pedestrians leap to safety as\nStantz runs a red light.\n\n<b>INT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThey hang on to the safety straps as Stantz continues his maniacal ride.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Stantz, really worried\n\t\t\t\t now)\n\t\t\tAre you crazy, man?  You're going to kill\n\t\t\tsomebody!\n\nStantz looks at him and smile demonically.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I'm going to kill everybody!\n\nHe swerves off the road.\n\n<b>EXT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe car heads right for a big tree.\n\n<b>INT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nAt the last possible moment, Winston cold-cocks Stantz, grabs the wheel\nand steps across to stomp on the brakes.\n\n<b>EXT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe car skids into the tree and stops.  The Ghostbusters stumble out\ndazed and shaken, but unhurt.  Stantz rubs his eyes and looks at the\nothers, completely at a loss.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (himself again)\n\t\t\tWhat happened?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou just picked up three penalty points on\n\t\t\tyour driver's license.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tAre you all right?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, I guess so.  It was the strangest\n\t\t\tthing.  I knew what I was doing but I\n\t\t\tcouldn't stop.  This really terrible feeling\n\t\t\tcame over me and -- I don't know -- I just\n\t\t\tfelt like driving into that tree and ending\n\t\t\tit all.  Whew!  Sorry, boys.\n\nThey inspect the damage to the car.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (confidentially, to\n\t\t\t\t Spengler)\n\t\t\tWatch him, Egon.  Don't even let him shave.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThere's a KNOCK at the front door, a key turns in the lock, and Venkman\nenters somewhat tentatively holding a bouquet of flowers and a small\nsuitcase of Dana's.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (calls out)\n\t\t\tI'm home!\n\nHe looks around the large open loft.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to himself)\n\t\t\tI knew it.  She cleaned.\n\nHe hears the SHOWER RUNNING and crosses to the bathroom.  The door is\nhalf-open and he can see Dana in the shower (tastefully blurred) through\nthe transparent vinyl curtain.  He closes the bathroom door and looks at\nthe baby asleep on the bed, surrounded by pillows to prevent him rolling\noff.  Then he turns and bumps into Dana who's just coming out of the\nbathroom wrapped in a towel.  She jumps back into the bathroom.\n\nShe comes out again, this time wearing a robe.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAre you all squeaky clean now?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (humoring him)\n\t\t\tYes, I'm very clean.  Did they find anything\n\t\t\tat my apartment?\n\nShe squeezes past him into the bedroom and closes the door.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (through the door)\n\t\t\tNothing.  They stayed there all night, went\n\t\t\tthrough your personal stuff, made a bunch of\n\t\t\tlong-distance phone calls and cleaned out\n\t\t\tyour refrigerator.  And didn't find anything.\n\nDana opens the bedroom door.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThey didn't find anything?  In the bathtub\n\t\t\t... the pink ooze ... nothing?  So, what do\n\t\t\tI do now?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNow you get dressed and we go out.  I got a\n\t\t\tbabysitter and everything.  Trust me, you\n\t\t\tneed it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI'm not here to date.  I can't leave Oscar\n\t\t\tin a strange place with someone I don't know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tIt's Janine Melnitz, from my staff.  She's\n\t\t\tone of my most valuable employees.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tDoes she know anything about babies?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tJanine Melnitz, are you kidding?\n\t\t\t\t (handing her the flowers)\n\t\t\tDo I have a vase?  I brought some of your\n\t\t\tclothes.  Wear something intriguing.  I\n\t\t\tbrought along some interesting possibilities.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, but it's not a date.  It's a dinner.\n\nShe smiles and closes the door again.  He opens the closet and starts\nlooking for his good suit.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDid you happen to see some shirts on the\n\t\t\tfloor in here?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\tI put them in your hamper.  I thought they\n\t\t\twere dirty.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shaking his head)\n\t\t\tI have a hamper?  Next time ask me first,\n\t\t\tokay.  I have more than two grades of\n\t\t\tlaundry.  There're lots of subtle levels\n\t\t\tbetween clean and dirty.\n\nHe pulls some clothes out of the hamper and inspects them.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThese aren't so bad yet.  You just hang them\n\t\t\tup for a while and they're fine.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b><b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - RECEPTION AREA - EARLY EVENING\n</b>\nJanine covers her computer terminal and starts turning out the lights.\nThen she notices that the lights are still on upstairs.  She starts\nprimping and freshening up her makeup.\n\n<b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - LAB AREA - SAME TIME\n</b>\nLouis is strapping on a proton pack, preparing to deal with Slimer once\nand for all.  He's wearing a bicyclist's rearview mirror on a headband.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to himself)\n\t\t\tOkay, Stinky, this is it.  Showdown time.\n\t\t\tYou and me, pal.  You think you're smarter\n\t\t\tthan I am?  We'll see about that.\n\t\t\t\t (loud)\n\t\t\tOh, hello, Pizza Man!  Oh, two larges!  I\n\t\t\tonly ordered one.  Oh, pepperoni and\n\t\t\tpineapple.  My absolute favorite.  I guess\n\t\t\tI'll have to eat these both by myself.\n\n<b>THE CEILING\n</b>\nSlimer pokes his head through the ceiling and scans the room hanging\nupside down.\n\n<b>LOUIS\n</b>\nHe spots Slimer through the rearview mirror.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (quietly)\n\t\t\tOkay, let's boogie!\n\nHe whirls around and fires a proton stream at Slimer, slicing a burning a\ngash across the ceiling.\n\n<b>THE STAIRS\n</b>\nJanine comes up and ducks as a bolt of energy streaks across the room and\nstrikes the wall behind her.  Slimer disappears.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (embarrassed and apologetic)\n\t\t\tOh migod!  I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to do\n\t\t\tthat.  It was an accident.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tWhat are you doing up here?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI was trying to get that smelly green thing.\n\t\t\tThe guys asked me to help out.  I'm like the\n\t\t\tfifth Ghostbuster.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tWhy would you want to be a Ghostbuster if\n\t\t\tyou're already an accountant?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh, no, it's just if one of the guys calls\n\t\t\tin sick or gets hurt.\n\nLouis quickly slips off the proton pack and sets it down.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tHave you made any plans yet?  You know\n\t\t\ttomorrow is New Year's Eve.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I celebrate at the beginning of my\n\t\t\tcorporate tax year which is March first.\n\t\t\tThat way I beat the crowds.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tThat's very practical.  I hate going out on\n\t\t\tNew Year's Eve, too.\n\nThere is an awkward silence between them and Janine starts to leave.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tWell, good night, Louis.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on an impulse)\n\t\t\tJanine, do you feel like maybe getting\n\t\t\tsomething to eat on the way home?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tI'd like to, but I told Dr. Venkman I'd\n\t\t\tbabysit.\n\t\t\t\t (seductively)\n\t\t\tDo you want to babysit with me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh, sure, that sounds great.\n\nThey exit.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nThere is a KNOCK at the door and Venkman goes to answer it.  He's dressed\nfor the evening and looking very dapper.\n\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - ENTRANCE HALL - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n</b>\nVenkman opens the door and finds Stantz, Spengler and Winston standing\nthere wearing over-the-hip rubberized waders, firemen's slickers, and\nminers' helmets, carrying tons of sensing devices, meters, collection\njars and photographic equipment.  They look like they're rigged out for a\nmajor spelunking expedition.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (ushering them in)\n\t\t\tDon't tell me, let me guess.  All-you-can-eat\n\t\t\tbarbecue rib night at the Sizzler?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWe're going down into the sewer system to\n\t\t\tsee if we can trace the source of the\n\t\t\tpsycho-reactive slime flow.  We thought you\n\t\t\tmight want to come along.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDarn it!  I wish I'd known you were going.\n\t\t\tI'm stuck with these damn dinner reservations.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tYou know, animals and lower life forms often\n\t\t\tanticipate major disasters.  Given the new\n\t\t\tmagnetheric readings we could see a tremendous\n\t\t\tbreeding surge in the cockroach population.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tRoach breeding?  Sounds better and better.\n\t\t\t\t (calls out)\n\t\t\tDana?  The boys are going down under the\n\t\t\tsewers tonight to look for slime.  Egon\n\t\t\tthinks there might even be some kind of big\n\t\t\troach-breeding surge.  Should we forget about\n\t\t\tdinner and go with them instead?\n\nDana steps into the living room looking very beautiful.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWow.\n\nDana looks curiously at their outfits.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHi.\n\nThey nod and wave back.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Ray and Egon)\n\t\t\tI think we're going to have to pass on the\n\t\t\tsewer trip, boys.  Let me know what you find\n\t\t\tout.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on his exit)\n\t\t\tOkay, but you're missing all the fun.\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nStantz, Spengler and Winston come down the stairs into the station,\nguided by a very old map of the underground city.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThis is it.  Van Horne Station.  Right where\n\t\t\tthe old transit map said it would be.\n\nThey cross to the edge of the platform and look into the river of slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tLet's get a sounding on the depth of that\n\t\t\tflow.\n\nStantz has a long, coiled, graduated cord with a plumb bob on the end of\nit attached to his utility belt.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tStand back.\n\nHe takes the cord in his hand, swings the plumb bob over his head and\ncasts it out into the middle of the flow.  The plumb bob sinks and\nSpengler reads the depth.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tSix feet -- seven -- eight --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThat's it.  It's on the bottom.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tNine feet -- ten --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tIs the line sinking?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tNo, the slime is rising.\n\nStantz looks down and notices the slime rising over the edge of the\nplatform and around his boots.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (alarmed)\n\t\t\tLet's get out of here, boys.\n\nHe starts to pull out the plumb line but it seems to be stuck.\n\nSpengler tries to help, but whatever is pulling on the cord is stronger\nthan all three of them.  As their unseen adversary pulls them closer and\ncloser to the edge, Stantz works desperately to unhook the cord from his\nbelt but finally just unhooks the whole belt.  Spengler lets go in time\nbut Winston doesn't.  He is jerked off his feet and into the slime flow.\nStantz and Spengler look at each other, summon their courage and jump in\nafter him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  ARMAND RESTAURANT - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nDana and Venkman are sitting at a table in an elegant restaurant nibbling\ncaviar and toasting with very expensive champagne.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (very intimate)\n\t\t\tHere's to -- us.\n\nShe sighs and drinks.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo -- are you making any New Year's\n\t\t\tresolutions?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI want to stop getting involved with men who\n\t\t\taren't good for me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDoes that start exactly at midnight tomorrow,\n\t\t\tor could you hold off for a few days maybe?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tFor one night in your life, do you think\n\t\t\tit's possible for us to be completely real?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAll right, you want to be real?  So tell me\n\t\t\twhy did you dump me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tOh, Peter, I didn't dump you.  I just had\n\t\t\tto protect myself.  You really weren't very\n\t\t\tgood for me, you know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm not even good for me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tWhy do you say things like that?  You're so\n\t\t\tmuch better than you know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThank you.  If I had that kind of support\n\t\t\ton a daily basis, I could definitely shape\n\t\t\tup by the turn of the century.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (already feeling the\n\t\t\t\t effects of the champagne)\n\t\t\tSo why don't you give me a jingle in the\n\t\t\tyear 2000?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tLet me jingle you right now.\n\nHe leans over to kiss her.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tMaybe I should call Janine.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDon't worry.  Janine has a very special way\n\t\t\twith children.\n\nThey kiss.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  APARTMENT - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nJanine is on the sofa doing her nails while Louis paces with the baby.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (looking around)\n\t\t\tI can't believe a person could actually live\n\t\t\tlike this.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the baby)\n\t\t\tSo these dwarfs had a limited partnership in\n\t\t\ta small mining operation and then one day a\n\t\t\tbeautiful princess came to live with them.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tIt's really not a bad place.  It just needs\n\t\t\ta woman's touch.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (continuing)\n\t\t\tSo they bartered room and board in exchange\n\t\t\tfor housekeeping services, which was a good\n\t\t\tdeal for all of them because then they didn't\n\t\t\thave to withhold tax and social security,\n\t\t\twhich I'm not saying is right but it's just\n\t\t\ta story, so I guess it's all right.  I can\n\t\t\tfinish this later if you're tired.\n\nLouis goes into the bedroom and puts the baby down.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tYou're really good with children, Louis.  I\n\t\t\tcan tell.\n\t\t\t\t (as he returns)\n\t\t\tWhy don't you come here and sit with me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOkay.\n\nHe sits stiffly beside her on the sofa.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (getting close)\n\t\t\tMotherhood is a very natural instinct for\n\t\t\tme.  I'd like to have a baby myself.\n\t\t\tWouldn't you?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (gulps)\n\t\t\tTonight?\n\n<b>EXT.  STREET - MANHOLE COVER - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nA manhole cover is dislodged and pushed up from below.  It slides away,\nand Winston crawls out of the manhole followed by Stantz and Spengler.\nThey are exhausted and covered with slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (uncharacteristically\n\t\t\t\t angry)\n\t\t\tNice going, Ray!  What were you trying to\n\t\t\tdo -- drown me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (unusually mean)\n\t\t\tLook, Zeddemore, it wasn't my fault you were\n\t\t\ttoo stupid to drop that line.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shoves him)\n\t\t\tYou better watch your mouth, man, or I'll\n\t\t\tpunch your lights out.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOh yeah?  Anytime, anytime.  Just go ahead\n\t\t\tand try it.\n\nSpengler steps between them with unprecedented aggression.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tIf you two are looking for a fight, you got\n\t\t\tone.\n\t\t\t\t (putting up his fists)\n\t\t\tWho wants it first?  Come on, Ray.  Try me,\n\t\t\tsucker.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (squaring off)\n\t\t\tButt out, you pencil-necked geek.  I've had\n\t\t\tit with you.\n\nThey grab each other and start to tussle.  Suddenly Spengler comes to his\nsenses and pulls them apart.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (forcefully)\n\t\t\tStrip!  Right now!  Get out of those clothes!\n\nHe starts yanking off his slicker and waders.  Bewildered, Stantz and\nWinston start doing the same.  Spengler helps pull off their clothes and\nthrows them into the open manhole.  Now wearing only long underwear, they\nseem to return to normal.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tWhat are we doing?  Ray, I was ready to kill\n\t\t\tyou.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tDon't you see?  It's the slime.  That stuff\n\t\t\tis like pure, concentrated evil.\n\nStantz looks around and sees that they are standing right in front of the\nmuseum.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tAnd it's all flowing right to this spot.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  ARMAND RESTAURANT ENTRANCE - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe MAITRE D' looks up in surprise as Stantz, Spengler and Winston enter\nthe restaurant wearing only long underwear.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAITRE D'\n</b>\t\t\t\t (intercepting them)\n\t\t\tCan I help you?\n\nStantz looks around and spots Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThat's all right, I see him.\n\nThey blow right by the Maitre d' who jumps back in horror as they pass.\n\n<b>VENKMAN\n</b>\nHe's just about to pour more champagne when he sees Ray, Egon and Winston\ncoming toward him through the restaurant.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (very excited)\n\t\t\tYou should've been there, Venkman.\n\t\t\tAbsolutely incredible!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, sorry I missed it.\n\t\t\t\t (noting their attire)\n\t\t\tI guess you guys didn't know about the dress\n\t\t\tcode here.  It's really kind of a coat and\n\t\t\ttie place.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt's all over the city, Pete -- well, under\n\t\t\tit actually.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tRivers of the stuff!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tAnd it's all flowing toward the museum.\n\nHe gestures excitedly and a big gob of slime flies across the room and\nlands on a well-dressed diner.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (calls out)\n\t\t\tSorry!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tMaybe we should discuss this somewhere else.\n\nVenkman notes the look of alarm on Dana's face and pulls his colleagues\naside.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (confidentially)\n\t\t\tBoys, listen.  You're scaring the straights.\n\t\t\tLet's save this until tomorrow, okay?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Venkman)\n\t\t\tThis won't wait until tomorrow, Venkman.\n\t\t\tIt's hot and it's ready to pop.\n\n<b>MAITRE D'\n</b>\nHe hurries through the restaurant with two city COPS right behind him and\nmakes straight for Venkman's table.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAITRE D'\n</b>\t\t\tArrest these men.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (recognizing them)\n\t\t\tHey!  It's the Ghostbusters.  You're out of\n\t\t\tuniform, gentlemen\n\nStantz suddenly realizes how ridiculous they look.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (self-conscious)\n\t\t\tUh -- well -- we had a little accident, but\n\t\t\tforget that.  We have to see the mayor as\n\t\t\tsoon as possible.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\tLook, Doc, why don't you just go home.\n\t\t\tYou'll get a good night's sleep and then you\n\t\t\tcan give the mayor a call in the morning.\n\t\t\tCome on.\n\nHe takes Stantz by the arm but Stantz resists.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWe're not going anywhere with you.  I told\n\t\t\tyou we have to see the mayor now.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (grabbing Stantz)\n\t\t\tI'm warning you.  You can come along\n\t\t\tpeaceably or --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (grabs the Cop)\n\t\t\tHey, don't be an idiot.  This is serious.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (angry)\n\t\t\tLook, pal, keep this up and you're going\n\t\t\twith them.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOh, yeah?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (has had enough)\n\t\t\tYeah, let's go.  You're all under arrest.\n\nThe Cop catches Venkman in an armlock and starts walking him out of the\nrestaurant.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tFinish your dessert -- it's already paid\n\t\t\tfor.  I'll call you.\n\nThey all exit, causing a major commotion among the other diners.\n\n<b>EXT.  ARMAND'S RESTAURANT - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe police car is parked right behind Ecto-2.  Spengler stops at the\npolice car and confronts the cops.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tLook, we're not drunk and we're not crazy.\n\t\t\tThis is a matter of vital importance.\n\nVenkman steps in and looks at the policemen's nametags.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\tWhat are you doing?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI just want to get your names right for when\n\t\t\tthe mayor asks us why we didn't let him know\n\t\t\tabout this sooner.\n\nThe Cops look at each other, uncertain about what to do.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (relenting)\n\t\t\tOkay, Doc.  You want to see the mayor, you\n\t\t\tgot it.  Follow us.\n\nThey head for their respective vehicles.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nLouis and Janine are on the sofa making out when Dana enters.  They jump\nup and start smoothing their clothes.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (embarrassed)\n\t\t\tOh, hello, Dana.  we were just -- we were --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI know what you were doing, Louis.  It's\n\t\t\tall right.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tHow was your date?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tTypical.  Peter was arrested.  Has he called?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tNo, nobody called.\n\nDana frowns.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tIs everything all right with Oscar?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tOh, he's fine.  He's such a good baby.  He\n\t\t\twas a little fussy at first, but we gave\n\t\t\thim a Freach bread pizza and he went right\n\t\t\tto sleep.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (relieved)\n\t\t\tOh, good.  I'll just check on him.\n\nShe crosses to the bedroom.\n\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S BEDROOM - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nDana looks at Oscar sleeping peacefully on the bed.  She starts to change\nclothes.\n\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nLouis and Janine aren't sure what to do.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tShould we go?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tI don't think we should leave her alone.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tYou're right.  We should stay.\n\nHe grabs Janine and they start making out again.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM RESTORATION STUDIO - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nJanosz stands before the painting of Vigo.  Vigo comes to life and\nrepeats the litany of his power.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tI, Vigo, the scourge of Carpathia --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (heard all this before)\n\t\t\tYes, the scourge --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\t-- the sorrow of Moldavia --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t-- the sorrow --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tI command you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (checking his watch)\n\t\t\tI await the word of Vigo.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tThe season of evil begins with the birth of\n\t\t\tthe new year.  Bring me the child that I\n\t\t\tmight live again.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (abjectly humble)\n\t\t\tLord Vigo, the mother, Dana, is fine and\n\t\t\tstrong.  I was wondering -- well, would it\n\t\t\tbe possible -- if I bring the baby, could I\n\t\t\thave the woman?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tSo be it.  On this the day of darkness, she\n\t\t\twill be ours, wife to you and mother to me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  CARL SCHURZ PARK - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nPreceded by a police car, Ecto-2 enters the small park on the East River\nat 88th Street and disappears into an underground entrance.  The CAMERA\nPANS UP to reveal Gracie Mansion, the residence of the Mayor of New York\nCity.\n\n<b>INT.  GRACIE MANSION - MOMENTS LATER\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters, now wearing police raincoats over their longjohns are\nushered through the house by a butler to a set of double oak doors.  The\nbutler knocks lightly, then opens the door to reveal the MAYOR sitting in\nfront of the fireplace in his well-appointed private study, flanked by\nJack Hardemeyer, both in tuxedoes.  The Ghostbusters enter.\n\n<b>INT.  STUDY - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n</b>\nThe Mayor is impatient and a little angry at having been pulled out of\nhis formal reception.  He frowns at their bizarre attire.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\tAll right -- the Ghostbusters.  I'll tell\n\t\t\tyou right now; I've got two hundred of the\n\t\t\theaviest campaign contributors in the city\n\t\t\tout there eating bad roast chicken waiting\n\t\t\tfor me to give the speech of my life.\n\t\t\tYou've got two minutes.  Make it good.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou get enough negative energy flowing in a\n\t\t\tdense environment like Manhattan, it starts\n\t\t\tto build up, and if we don't do something\n\t\t\tfast this whole place will blow like a frog\n\t\t\ton a hotplate.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tTell him about the toaster.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI don't think he's ready for the toaster.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shaking his head)\n\t\t\tBeing miserable and treating other people\n\t\t\tlike dirt is every New Yorker's God-given\n\t\t\tright.  What am I supposed to do -- go on\n\t\t\ttelevision and tell eight million people\n\t\t\tthey have to be nice to each other?  I'm\n\t\t\tsorry, none of this makes any sense to me,\n\t\t\tand if anything does happen we've got plenty\n\t\t\tof paid professionals to deal with it.  Your\n\t\t\ttwo minutes are up.  Good night, gentlemen.\n\nThe mayor exits, leaving the Ghostbusters to Hardemeyer.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (smirking)\n\t\t\tThat's quite a story.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, I think the Times might be interested,\n\t\t\tdon't you?  The Post might have a lot of fun\n\t\t\twith it, too.\n\nHardemeyer's eyes go cold and calculating.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tBefore you go running to the newspapers with\n\t\t\tthis, would you consider telling this slime\n\t\t\tthing to some people downtown?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNow you're talking.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  PARKVIEW HOSPITAL - PSYCHIATRIC WARD - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nAn attendant opens a locked door with a wire mesh window and the\nGhostbusters, in straitjackets, are led into the psych ward as Hardemeyer\nconfers with the chief PSYCHIATRIST.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (protesting)\n\t\t\tI'm telling you, we're not crazy.  He is!\n\n<b>HARDEMEYER\n</b>\nHe laughs off the remark.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Psychiatrist)\n\t\t\tThe mayor wants them kept under strict\n\t\t\tobservation for a few days.  We think\n\t\t\tthey're seriously disturbed and potentially\n\t\t\tdangerous.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPSYCHIATRIST\n</b>\t\t\tWe'll do whatever's necessary.\n\nHardemeyer shakes his hand and exits as the door slams shut on the\nGhostbusters.\n\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nLouis and Janine are watching an old rerun on TV, eating popcorn, while\nDana is stretched out on the other sofa.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (wishing they'd leave)\n\t\t\tYou know you really don't have to stay.\n\t\t\tPeter should be back soon.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh no, we don't mind.\n\nShe hears a little CRY from the nursery and sits up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tExcuse me.  I think Oscar is up.\n\nShe crosses to the bedroom.\n\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S BEDROOM - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nDana enters and immediately notices that the crib is empty and the window\nis open.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (screams)\n\t\t\tLouis!\n\nFrantic now, Dana rushes to the window and looks out, as Louis and Janine\ncome running in.\n\n<b>EXT.  WINDOW LEDGE - DANA'S POV - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nThe baby is standing out on the ledge at the corner of the building,\nfifty feet above the street, staring off into the distance as if he's\nwaiting for something.\n\n<b>EXT.  WINDOW LEDGE - NIGHT (ECLIPSE) (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nDana climbs out onto the ledge and starts inching slowly toward the baby.\nThen she stops as a miraculous apparition materializes.\n\n<b>LOUIS AND JANINE\n</b>\nThey lean out the window, gaping at the apparition.\n\n<b>EXT.  VENKMAN'S LEDGE - APPARITION\n</b>\nA sweet, kindly-looking English nanny appears, pushing a pram, strolling\non thin air parallel to the ledge high above the ground.  Her face looks\nremarkably like Janosz Poha's.  The nanny extends her hand to the BABY\nwho GURGLES sweetly as he reaches out to take it.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe watches in helpless horror.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (screams)\n\t\t\tNo!!\n\n<b>GHOST NANNY\n</b>\nShe picks up the baby and lays it gently in the pram, then turns and\nsmiles at Dana.  The smile turns to a hideous grin, then the nanny\nshrieks at Dana and takes off like a shot with the baby.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe watches the creature fly off with Oscar, then climbs back through\nthe window assisted by Louis and Janine.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (resolutely)\n\t\t\tLouis, you have to find Peter and tell him\n\t\t\twhat happened.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (confused and worried)\n\t\t\tWhere're you going?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tTo get my baby back.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM - NIGHT (A LITTLE LATER)\n</b>\nA taxi pulls up, Dana jumps out and rushes into the museum.  The moment\nthe door closes behind her, there is a loud THUNDERCLAP, the ground\ntrembles and a massive amount of slime erupts from around the base of\nthe museum and starts covering the walls, sealing her inside the\nbuilding.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  PARKVIEW PSYCHIATRIC - PADDED ROOM - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nVenkman, Stantz, Spengler and Winston are in a padded cell.  They are\nhandcuffed and the cuffs are chained to thick leather belts around their\nwaists.  Venkman stands there banging his head into the padded wall\nwhile the others try to explain the situation to a skeptical\nPsychiatrist.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWe think the spirit of Vigo the Carpathian\n\t\t\tis alive in a painting at the Manhattan\n\t\t\tMuseum.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPSYCHIATRIST\n</b>\t\t\tI see. And are there any other paintings in\n\t\t\tthe museum with bad spirits in them?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (impatient)\n\t\t\tYou're wasting valuable time!  We have reason\n\t\t\tto believe that Vigo is drawing strength from\n\t\t\ta psychomagnetheric slime flow that's been\n\t\t\tcollecting under the city.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPSYCHIATRIST\n</b>\t\t\tYes, tell me about the slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tIt's potent stuff.  We made a toaster dance\n\t\t\twith it, then a bathtub tried to eat his\n\t\t\tfriend's baby.\n\nThe psychiatrist looks at Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDon't look at me.  I think they're nuts.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM RESTORATION STUDIO - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nMoonlight streams through the skylight above, bathing the studio in\neerie white light.  Oscar is lying safely on a table in front of the\npainting of Vigo.  Dana enters cautiously and sees the baby.  Seeing no\none else about, she quickly sneaks down to the table and picks up the\nbaby, hugging hin tight, greatly relieved to find him unharmed and\nintact.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\tI knew you would come.\n\nStartled, Dana turns at the sound of his voice as Janosz steps out from\nbehind the Vigo painting.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (defiantly)\n\t\t\tWhat do you want with my baby?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo harm will come to the child.  You might\n\t\t\teven say it's a privilege.  He will be the\n\t\t\tvessel for the spirit of Vigo.  And you --\n\t\t\twell, you will be the mother of the ruler\n\t\t\tof the world.  Doesn't that sound nice?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tIf this is what the world will be like, I\n\t\t\tdon't want to live in it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (confidentially, indicating\n\t\t\t\t Vigo)\n\t\t\tI don't believe we have the luxury of choice.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tEverybody has a choice.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tNot in this case, my dear.  Take a look.\n\t\t\tThat's not Gainsborough's Blue Boy up there.\n\t\t\tHe's Vigo!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI don't care who he is.  He's not taking my\n\t\t\tbaby.\n\nDana walks quickly to the door but suddenly Oscar flies out of her arms,\nfloats across the room and lands lightly back in the cradle.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe turns and looks at Vigo, for the first time feeling his power.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou will see.  It's all for the best.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  PARKVIEW HOSPITAL - DAY (NEXT MORNING)\n</b>\nIt's the last day of the year and the sun is shining brightly.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  PARKVIEW PSYCHIATRIC WARD - DAY (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters are sitting in the dayroom, a dingy lounge for patients\nin the locked ward.  There is a television set, a Ping-Pong table and a\nfew tables and chairs.  Stantz is looking at the sky through the heavy\nwire mesh covering the windows.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThis is it. boys.  It's starting.  Shit-storm\n<b>\t\t\t2000.\n</b>\nVenkman is doing occupational therapy, weaving on a little hand-loom.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tIt better not start yet.  I'm trying to\n\t\t\tfinish my potholder before lunch.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tYou think all those predictions about the\n\t\t\tworld coming to an end in the 1990s are true?\n\nA PATIENT at the next table joins the discussion.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPATIENT\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with certainty)\n\t\t\t1997.  My dog told me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat kind of dog?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPATIENT\n</b>\t\t\tLabrador.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shakes his head)\n\t\t\tHabitual liars.  They can't help it.  It's\n\t\t\tin the breed.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  PARKVIEW HOSPITAL - EXAMINING ROOM - DAY (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nLouis is pleading with his cousin, SHERMAN TULLY, a doctor on the staff\nat Parkview.  He looks and sounds just like Louis.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tCome on, Sherm.  You're my cousin.  Do this\n\t\t\tfor me.  I'm begging you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI can't do it, Louis.  It isn't ethical.  I\n\t\t\tcould lose my license.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tWhy can't you just have them released?\n\t\t\tYou're a doctor.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm a dermatologist.  I can't write orders\n\t\t\ton the psych ward.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tSherman, I've done lots of favors for you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tLike what?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI got you out of those bad tax shelters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou were the one who got me in.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI fixed you up with Diane Troxler and she\n\t\t\tput out, didn't she?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, I had to give her free dermabrasion\n\t\t\tfor a year.  Forget it, Louis.  I could get\n\t\t\tin a lot of trouble.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI'm telling you, we're all going to be in\n\t\t\tbig trouble if we don't do something fast.\n\t\t\tThat ghost guy came and took my friend's\n\t\t\tbaby and we got to get it back.  It's just\n\t\t\ta scared little baby, Sherm.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThen you should go to the police.  I don't\n\t\t\tbelieve in any of that stuff.\n\nSherman looks out the window.\n\n<b>EXT.  SKY - SHERMAN'S POV\n</b>\nThe sky begins to go dark as the sun is magically eclipsed.\n\n<b>INT.  EXAMINING ROOM - CONTINUOUS ACTION - DAY\n</b>\nThe room goes dark.  Louis switches on a lamp which casts an eerie light\non his face.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (spooky)\n\t\t\tDo you believe it now, Sherm?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  HUDSON RIVER PIER - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nA drainpipe starts dripping slime into the river near the Cunard Line\ndocks.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  PUBLIC FOUNTAIN (59TH AND FIFTH) - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nWith the Plaza Hotel in the background, the fountain starts to spout\npsycho-reactive slime.\n\n<b>HOTEL ENTRANCE\n</b>\nA well-heeled MAN and WOMAN step out of a limousine and walk up the steps\ntoward the revolving door.  She looks up at the sky and frowns.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWOMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shrewish)\n\t\t\tI told you we should have stayed in Palm\n\t\t\tBeach.  The weather here gets stranger every\n\t\t\tyear.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYes, dear.\n\nShe doesn't notice it, but a small amount of slime falls on the back of\nher luxurious, full-length, white mink coat.  The doorman nods\ncourteously and extends a hand to help her up the stairs.\n\n<b>WOMAN\n</b>\nShe yelps in pain.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWOMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the doorman)\n\t\t\tSomething just bit me!\n\nThe doorman looks curiously at her, then recoils in shock as her coat\ncomes alive.  MINK HEADS pop out of the thick fur, SNARLING, BARKING and\nYAPPING, their sharp, little teeth biting the air.  Reacting quickly, the\ndoorman yanks the coat off the woman's back, throws it to the ground and\nstarts stomping on it as the Woman and her husband look on in horror.\nThe coat scuttles down the steps and runs off down the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MIDTOWN CENTRAL POLICE PRECINCT - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nThe squad room is busy as DETECTIVES try to answer the flood of calls\nregarding the wave of supernatural events sweeping the city.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDETECTIVE ONE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on the phone)\n\t\t\tLook, lady, of course there are dead people\n\t\t\tthere.  It's a cemetery ...\n\t\t\t\t (his face falls)\n\t\t\tThey were asking you for directions?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDETECTIVE TWO\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on another phone)\n\t\t\tWas this a big dinosaur or a little dinosaur?\n\t\t\t... Oh, just the skeleton, huh?  Well, where\n\t\t\tis it now?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDETECTIVE THREE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on the phone)\n\t\t\tWait a second -- the park bench was chasing\n\t\t\tyou?  You mean, someone was chasing you in\n\t\t\tthe park ... No, the bench itself was chasing\n\t\t\tyou.  I see --\n\nA weary SERGEANT answers a RINGING PHONE.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSERGEANT\n</b>\t\t\tManhattan Central, Flaherty speaking ...\n\t\t\tYeah ... yeah? ... What?  Who is this? ...\n\t\t\tWait a second.\n\nHe puts the caller on \"Hold\" and turns the LIEUTENANT.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSERGEANT\n</b>\t\t\tLieutenant, I think you better talk to this\n\t\t\tguy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLIEUTENANT\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on another call)\n\t\t\tWhat is it?  I'm talkin' here!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSERGEANT\n</b>\t\t\tIt's some dock supervisor down at Pier 34\n\t\t\ton the Hudson.  The guy's going nuts.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLIEUTENANT\n</b>\t\t\tWhat's the problem?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSERGEANT\n</b>\t\t\t\t (takes a deep breath)\n\t\t\tHe says the Titanic just arrived.\n\n<b>INT.  PORT AUTHORITY OFFICE - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nThe dock supervisor stands there with the phone in his hand, an assistant\nbeside him, both staring out the window at the ocean liner tied up at the\npier.\n\n<b>EXT.  PIER 34 - THEIR POV - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nThe name \"R.M.S. Titanic\" is clearly visible on the side of the huge\nship.  The gangplank is down and dozens of drowned passengers, sopping\nwet and festooned with seaweed, are disembarking while drowned porters\noff-load their waterlogged baggage.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  PARKVIEW HOSPITAL - NIGHT (MOMENTS LATER)(ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nEcto-2 is parked outside as Louis and Sherman come out of the hospital\nwith the Ghostbusters, now wearing their standard uniforms.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tGood work, Louis.  How did you get us out?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh, I pulled a few strings.  I wouldn't want\n\t\t\tto say any more than that.\n\nLouis winks conspiratorially at Sherman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tThis is my cousin Sherman.  Sherm, say hello\n\t\t\tto the Ghostbusters.\n\t\t\t\t (sotto voce to Stantz)\n\t\t\tI promised him a ride in the car if he got\n\t\t\tyou out.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Ghostbusters)\n\t\t\tHi, it's really great to meet you guys.  I\n\t\t\tknow this sounds weird but once I had a\n\t\t\tdream that my grandfather was standing at\n\t\t\tthe foot of my bed, but I knew it was\n\t\t\timpossible because he died and he started\n\t\t\tto tell me that --\n\nWhile he's talking, the Ghostbusters jump in the Ectomobile and drive\noff, leaving him and Louis standing at the curb.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tHey!  Wait!  Okay, I'll meet you there.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI thought you were like the fifth Ghostbuster.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI let them handle all the little stuff.  I\n\t\t\tjust come in on the big ones.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>-----------------------------------------------------------------------\n</b>(original version of the above scene - 11/27/88)\n(TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES: These two versions of this scene were put in my\ncopy of the script, so I have included both of them here)\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tActually, they still think you're crazy, but\n\t\t\tI convinced them you're not dangerous.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (determined)\n\t\t\tYeah, well guess again.\n\n<b>EXT.  BELLEVUE HOSPITAL - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)(MOMENTS LATER)\n</b>\nEcto-2 is parked outside and the Ghostbusters are hastily donning their\nstandard uniforms.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI brought everything you asked for and I\n\t\t\tgassed up the car with Super Unleaded.  It\n\t\t\tcost twenty cents more than Regular Unleaded\n\t\t\tbut you get much better performance and in\n\t\t\tan old car like this that'll end up saving\n\t\t\tyou money in the long run.  I put it on my\n\t\t\tcredit card, so you can either reimburse me\n\t\t\tor I can take it out of petty cash --\n\nWhile he's talking, the Ghostbusters jump in the Ecto-2 and drive\noff without him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tHey!  Wait!  Okay, I'll meet you there.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>-----------------------------------------------------------------------\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)(LATER)\n</b>\nECTO-2 pulls to the curb across the street from the museum.  Hundreds of\nspectators are already there gawking at the building as the Ghostbusters\njump out and gape at the sight that greets them.\n\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM THEIR POV - BUILDING\n</b>\nThe building is now totally covered in a shell of psycho-reactive slime.\nCITY WORKMEN and FIREMEN are trying to cut their way in with blowtorches,\njackhammers, power tools and the \"jaws of life,\" but they can't even make\na dent.\n\n<b>GHOSTBUSTERS\n</b>\nThey size up the situation as they don their proton packs.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt looks like a giant Jello mold.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI hate Jello.\n\nThey stride manfully across the street and approach the main entrance to\nthe museum.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Fire Captain)\n\t\t\tOkay, give it a rest, Captain.  We'll take\n\t\t\tit from here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRE CAPTAIN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (skeptical)\n\t\t\tBe my guest.  We been cutting here for three\n\t\t\thours.  What the hell's going on?  You know\n\t\t\tthe Titanic arrived this morning?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWell, better late than never.\n\nThe workmen and firemen put down their tools and fall back as the\nGhostbusters draw their particle throwers.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (monitoring valences)\n\t\t\tFull neutronas, maser assist.\n\nThey adjust their settings and prepare to fire.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThrow 'em!\n\nThey trigger their throwers and spray the front doors of the building\nwith bolts of proton energy, but it has no effect on the hardened slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the firemen)\n\t\t\tOkay, who knows \"Cumbaya?\"\n\nA few of the firemen and workmen tentatively raise their hands.  Venkman\ngrabs them and lines them up at the entrance of the museum.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAll right.  Nice and sweet --\n\t\t\t\t (starts singing)\n\t\t\tCumbaya, milord, cumbaya --\n\nStantz, Spengler, Winston and the firemen sing along, reluctantly holding\nhands and swaying to the music.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tALL\n</b>\t\t\t\t (singing)\n\t\t\tCumbaya, milord, cumbaya, Cumbaya, milord,\n\t\t\tcumbaya, Oh, Lord, cumbaya.\n\nStantz inspects the wall of slime with his infra-goggles and finds that\nthey have only managed to open a hole the size of a dime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tForget it.  The Vienna Boys Choir couldn't\n\t\t\tget through this stuff.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tGood effort.  Now what?  Should we say\n\t\t\tsupportive, nurturing things to it, Ray?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tIt won't work.  There's no way we could\n\t\t\tgenerate enough positive energy to crack\n\t\t\tthat shell.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI can't believe things have gotten so bad\n\t\t\tin this city that there's no way back.\n\t\t\tSure, it's crowded, it's dirty, it's noisy.\n\t\t\tAnd there are too many people who'd just as\n\t\t\tsoon step on your face as look at you.  But\n\t\t\tthere've got to be a few sparks of sweet\n\t\t\thumanity left in this burned-out burg.  We\n\t\t\tjust have to mobilize it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWe need something that everyone can get\n\t\t\tbehind, a symbol --\n\nHis eyes fall on ECTO-2's New York State license plate which features a\nline drawing of the Statue of Liberty.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (he sees it, too)\n\t\t\tSomething that appeals to the best in each\n\t\t\tand every one of us --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tSomething good --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAnd pure --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tAnd decent.\n\n<b>EXT.  THE STREET - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nThere is a commotion among the crowd as the Mayor's limousine arrives\nwith a police escort.  Jack Hardemeyer steps out followed by the Mayor\nhimself and they cross to the museum entrance.\n\nHardemeyer, his ASSISTANT and several police BODYGUARDS confront the\nGhostbusters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tLook, I've had it with you.  Get your stuff\n\t\t\ttogether, get back in that clown car and get\n\t\t\tout of here.  This is a city matter and\n\t\t\teverything's under control.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOh, you think so?  Well, I've got news for\n\t\t\tyou.  You've got Dracula's brother-in-law\n\t\t\tin there and he's got my girlfriend and her\n\t\t\tkid.  Around about midnight tonight, when\n\t\t\tyou're partying uptown, this guy's going to\n\t\t\tcome to life and start doing amateur head\n\t\t\ttransplants.  And that's just round one.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\tAre you telling me there're people trapped\n\t\t\tin there?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to his assistant)\n\t\t\tThis is dynamite.  Call A.P., U.P.I., and\n\t\t\tC.N.N. and get them down here right away.\n\t\t\tWhen the police bring this kid out I want\n\t\t\tthem to hand it right to the mayor and I\n\t\t\twant it all on camera.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tMr. Mayor, if we don't do something by\n\t\t\tmidnight, you're going to go down in history\n\t\t\tas the man who let New York get sucked down\n\t\t\tinto the tenth level of hell.\n\nThe Mayor stops to consider the situation.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Fire Captain)\n\t\t\tCan you get into that museum?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRE CAPTAIN\n</b>\t\t\tIf I had a nuclear warhead, maybe.\n\nThe Mayor turns to Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\tYou know why all these things are happening?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWe tried to tell you last night, but Mr.\n\t\t\tHard-On over here packed us off to the loony\n\t\t\tbin.\n\nHardemeyer flips out.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tThis is preposterous!  You can't seriously\n\t\t\tbelieve all this mumbo-jumbo!  It's the\n\t\t\tTwentieth Century, for crying out loud!\n\t\t\t\t (viciously, to Venkman)\n\t\t\tLook, mister, I don't know what this stuff\n\t\t\tis or how you got it all over the museum,\n\t\t\tbut you better get it off and I mean right\n\t\t\tnow!\n\nHe pounds the wall of slime with his fist, and they all watch in\namazement as his fist goes through the wall and he is sucked bodily\nthrough the slime curtain.  Only his shoes can be seen, embedded in the\nslime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Venkman)\n\t\t\tOkay, just tell me what you need.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  LIBERTY ISLAND (NEW YORK HARBOR) - NIGHT\n</b>\nWith the city skyline in the b.g., the Ghostbusters prepare their\nequipment.  Each of them dons a makeshift backpack consisting of tanks,\nhoses, nozzles and an abundance of gauges, valves and regulators.\nVenkman looks up at the Statue of Liberty looming above them.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tKind of makes you wonder, doesn't it?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tWonder what?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tIf she's naked under that toga.  She's\n\t\t\tFrench, you know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tThere's nothing under that toga but 300 tons\n\t\t\tof iron and steel.\n\nStantz is looking worried.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI hope we have enough stuff to do the job.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOnly one way to find out.\n\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tReady, Teddy?\n\nThey enter the statue.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  STATUE OF LIBERTY - MOMENTS LATER\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters are working from the iron staircase that spirals\nstraight up 100 feet inside the hollow super-structure of the statue.\nSpengler and Winston are busy assembling hundreds of wires connected to\nvarious relays on the interior surface of the statue.  Venkman and Stantz\nare mounting large auditorium loudspeakers near the top of the staircase.\nThey finish the installation, then Stantz dons one of the new backpacks\nand gives the order.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, boys.  Let's frost it.\n\nThey begin hosing the inside of the statue with the psycho-reactive\nslime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nJanine watches as Louis, wearing a Ghostbuster uniform, slings a heavy\nproton pack onto his back.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tI'm not sure this is such a good idea?  Do\n\t\t\tthey know you're doing this?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh, yeah, sure -- no.  But there's really\n\t\t\tnot much to do here and they might need\n\t\t\tsome back-up at the museum.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tYou're very brave, Louis.  Good luck.\n\nShe kisses Louis and he gets extremely self-conscious.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tUh -- oh -- well, I better hurry.\n\nHe rushes out.\n\n<b>EXT  STREET OUTSIDE FIREHOUSE - NIGHT (LITTLE LATER)\n</b>\nLouis stands on the street corner waiting for a bus.  Finally, a bus\npulls up, Louis climbs aboard and finds Slimer behind the wheel.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  STATUE OF LIBERTY - OBSERVATION DECK - MOMENTS LATER\n</b>\nVenkman, Stantz, Spengler and Winston are standing in the observation\nwindows in the crown of the statue.  It looks like they're on the bridge\nof an ocean liner, then the CAMERA PULLS BACK to reveal the head of the\nstatue.\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe plugs the main cable lead into a transformer.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt's all yours, Pete.\n\t\t\t\t (checks his watch)\n\t\t\tThere's not much time left.\n\nVenkman plugs the speaker cable into a Walkman and gives a downbeat.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (giving the downbeat)\n\t\t\tOkay, one, two, three, four --\n\nHe hits \"Play\" on the Walkman and \"HIGHER AND HIGHER\" BOOMS from the huge\nSPEAKERS, amplified by the statue's vast hollow interior.\n\n<b>INT.  OBSERVATION DECK - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe head of the statue lurches suddenly, but the Ghostbusters cling to\nthe rail and manage to keep their feet.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tShe's moving!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tI've lived in New York all my life and I\n\t\t\tnever visited the Statue of Liberty.  Now I\n\t\t\tfinally get here and we're taking her out\n\t\t\tfor a walk.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reading the Giga-meter)\n\t\t\tWe've got full power.\n\nStantz picks up a Nintendo control paddle from a home video game and\nstarts pushing the buttons.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (into a microphone)\n\t\t\tOkay, Libby.  Let's get it in gear.\n\nThey feel a strong vibration and the statue starts to move.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  SOUTH STREET SEAPORT - NIGHT\n</b>\nNew Years Eve celebrants line the riverfront, pointing and gawking at an\nincredible sight.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST RIVER - THEIR POV - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe statue is moving up the river almost completely submerged, only her\nhead from the nose up is visible above the surface.\n\n<b>INT.  OBSERVATION DECK - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nWinston looks out apprehensively.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tHow deep does it get?  That water's cold and\n\t\t\tI can't swim.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tIt's okay.  I have my Senior Lifesaving card.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWith a water temperature of forty degrees\n\t\t\twe'd survive approximately fifteen minutes.\n\nStantz studies a maritime navigational chart.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI'll keep to the middle of the channel.\n\t\t\tWe're okay to 59th Street, then we'll go\n\t\t\tashore and take First Avenue to 79th.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAre you kidding?  We'll hit all that bridge\n\t\t\ttraffic at 59th.  I'm going to take 72nd\n\t\t\tstraight up to Fifth.  Trust me, I used to\n\t\t\tdrive a cab.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  RIVERFRONT - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nSpectators cheer wildly, inspired by the sight of the Statue.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM RESTORATION STUDIO - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nJanosz is sitting next to Dana, still wheedling her with promises and\nself-serving logic.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tTime is running out, Dana.  Soon it will be\n\t\t\tmidnight and the city will be mine -- and\n\t\t\tVigo's.  Well, mainly Vigo's.  But we have\n\t\t\ta spectacular opportunity to make the best\n\t\t\tof our relationship.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tWe don't have a relationship.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tI know.  Marry me, Dana, and together we\n\t\t\twill raise Vigo as our son.  There are many\n\t\t\tperks that come with being the mother of a\n\t\t\tliving god.  I'm sure he will supply for us\n\t\t\ta magnificent apartment.  And perhaps a car\n\t\t\tand free parking.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI hate and despise you and everything you\n\t\t\tstand for with all my heart and soul.  I\n\t\t\tcould never forgive what you've done to me\n\t\t\tand my child.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tMany marriages begin with a certain amount\n\t\t\tof distance, but after a while I believe we\n\t\t\tcould learn to love each other.  Think about\n\t\t\tit.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI'd rather not.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  TIMES SQUARE - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nPeople are jammed together shoulder to shoulder filling Times Square,\nwatching the big Seiko clock count down the last ten minutes to midnight.\nSuddenly, they look down Broadway and see a magnificent sight.\n\n<b>EXT.  BROADWAY - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe Statue of Liberty is walking up Broadway approaching 42nd Street,\nwith \"Higher and Higher\" BOOMING from the SPEAKERS inside.  A great cheer\ngoes up, and the crowd goes wild with joy, dancing and singing along with\nthe MUSIC.\n\n<b>INT.  STATUE OF LIBERTY OBSERVATION DECK - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS)\n</b>\nSpengler reads the Giga-meter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tIt's working.  The positive GeV's are\n\t\t\tclimbing.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (patting the Statue)\n\t\t\tThey love you, Lib.  Keep it up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  FIFTH AVENUE - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nThe avenue has been closed to traffic and barricades placed, blocking all\nthe side streets.  A squadron of police motorcycles comes speeding around\nthe corner at 72nd Street and proceeds up Fifth Avenue in the direction\nof the museum.  Then MUSIC is heard BOOMING in the distance, the ground\nshakes and the Statue of Liberty comes walking around the corner onto\nFifth Avenue followed by a wildly cheering throng.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  OBSERVATION DECK - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters can see the museum ahead.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo far so good.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (worried)\n\t\t\tI'm worried.  The vibrations could shake her\n\t\t\tto pieces.  We should have padded her feet.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI don't think they make Nikes in her size.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWe're almost there, Lib.\n\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tStep on it.\n\n<b>EXT.  STREET - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe Statue's huge foot comes down and squashes a car.\n\n<b>INT.  OBSERVATION DECK - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters look down at the flattened car.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouts out the window)\n\t\t\tMy Fault!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouts)\n\t\t\tShe's new in town.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - RESTORATION STUDIO - SAME TIME\n</b>\nJanosz is painting the last of the mystical symbols on the baby's chest.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  TIMES SQUARE - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nThe people still in the square start counting off the last ten seconds to\nmidnight and the New Year.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCROWD\n</b>\t\t\t\t (chanting)\n\t\t\tTen .. nine ... eight ... seven ...\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - PAINTING - NIGHT\n</b>\nA strange light spreads over the painting.  As the light moves onto his\nface, Vigo spreads his arms wide and his upper body starts to emerge from\nthe canvas.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tSoon my life begins.  Then woe to the weak,\n\t\t\tall power to me, the world is mine.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - JANOSZ - NIGHT\n</b>\nThe baby's body begins to glow as Vigo reaches out for it.  Then suddenly\na dark shadow falls across the skylight.  Janosz looks up.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - JANOSZ'S POV - SKYLIGHT - NIGHT\n</b>\nThe Statue of Liberty is looming over the skylight looking down on Janosz\nwith an expression of righteous anger on it's face.\n\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nKneeling beside the museum, the statue draws back it's mighty right arm\nand smashes the skylight with its torch.\n\n<b>INT.  RESTORATION STUDIO - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nJanosz retreats from the shower of broken glass as the Ghostbusters come\nsliding down ropes into the studio and confront Janosz with their new\nweapons.  Quick as a flash, Dana seizes the moment, dashes across the\nstudio and snatches the baby from Vigo's outstretched arms.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Janosz)\n\t\t\tHappy New Year.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - VIGO PAINTING - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nVigo bellows in rage.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - STUDIO - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nJanosz steps in front of the painting.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tHi there.  Feel free to try something stupid.\n\nJanosz sneers, trusting the invincibility of Vigo.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou pitiful, miserable creatures!  You dare\n\t\t\tto challenge the power of darkness?  Don't\n\t\t\tyou realize what you are dealing with?  He's\n\t\t\tVigo!  You are like the buzzing of flies to\n\t\t\thim.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (sighs)\n\t\t\tOh, Johnny.  Did you back the wrong horse.\n\nWith that, the Ghostbusters fire their slime-blowers and hose Janosz from\nhead to toe, blowing him into the corner.  Then they turn to Vigo.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nHe is now almost completely out of the painting, but still held from the\nknees down.  He spits and rages at the Ghostbusters, trying to unleash\nhis magic powers.\n\n<b>THE GHOSTBUSTERS\n</b>\nThey stand fast, secure in the knowledge that Vigo's power has been\nneutralized by the good will of the people.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tVigi, Vigi, Vigi -- you have been a bad\n\t\t\tlittle monkey.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThe whole city's together on this one.  We\n\t\t\ttook a vote.  Everybody's down on you, you\n\t\t\tknow.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (arming his slime-blower)\n\t\t\tSay goodnight now.\n\nSuddenly Vigo grabs Stantz by the neck and holds him up as a shield.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tDon't shoot!  You'll hit Ray!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (strangling)\n\t\t\tDo it!  Just do it!\n\nWinston fires and hoses both Vigo and Ray.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nHe bellows and drops Ray, then falls back into the painting.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - PAINTING - NIGHT\n</b>\nThe paint turns liquid, melts off the canvas and runs onto the floor\nrevealing another painting underneath it.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - GHOSTBUSTERS - NIGHT (AFTER BATTLE)\n</b>\nVenkman, Spengler and Winston rush over to Ray and kneel beside him.  He\nis completely covered with slime and motionless.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (examining him)\n\t\t\tHe's breathing.\n\nWinston wipes the slime off Ray's face and Ray opens his eyes.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tRay -- Ray -- How do you feel, man?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (smiles lovingly)\n\t\t\tGroovy.  I've never felt better in my life.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOh, no.  We've got to live with this?\n\nThey pull him to his feet.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI love you guys.  You're the best friends\n\t\t\tI've ever had.\n\nHe hugs them each in turn, leaving them slimed as well.  Venkman recoils\nin disgust.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHey, I just had this suit cleaned.\n\t\t\t\t (indicating Janosz)\n\t\t\tTake care of the wiggler, will you.\n\nVenkman crosses to Dana who is snuggling the baby.  She hugs Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat is this -- a love in?\n\t\t\t\t (notes the symbols painted\n\t\t\t\t on the baby's body)\n\t\t\tHey, sailor.  I think the tattoos are a\n\t\t\tlittle much, don't you?\n\nHe picks up the baby.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Venkman)\n\t\t\tI think he likes you.  I think I do too.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tFinally came to your senses, huh?\n\nThey hug and kiss.\n\n<b>SPENGLER, WINSTON AND STANTZ\n</b>\nThey help Janosz to his feet.  He's dazed but unhurt.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (restored to normalcy)\n\t\t\tWhat happened?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (calmly)\n\t\t\tSir, you had a violent, prolonged,\n\t\t\ttransformative psychic episode.  But it's\n\t\t\tover now.  Want a coffee?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (extremely nice)\n\t\t\tThat's very kind of you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tHe's fine, Ray.  Physically intact,\n\t\t\tpsychomagnetherically neutral.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tIs that good?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tIt's where you want to be.\n\nAs they exit they stop to examine the painting that was concealed by\nVigo's self-portrait.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tLate Renaissance, I think.  Caravaggio or\n\t\t\tBrunelleschi.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (staring at it)\n\t\t\tThere's something very familiar about this\n\t\t\tpainting.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - NEW PAINTING - NIGHT\n</b>\nIt's a beautiful painting in the high-Renaissance style depicting four\narchangels hovering protectively over a cherubic baby.  One holds a harp,\none, an olive branch, the third, a book, and the last, a sword.  Most\nremarkably, their faces bear an uncanny resemblance to Venkman, Stantz,\nSpengler and Winston.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  STREET - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nA city bus pulls up near the museum and Louis steps off.  He waves his\nthanks to Slimer who is behind the wheel.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Slimer)\n\t\t\tOkay, so Monday night we'll get something\n\t\t\tto eat and maybe go bowling?  Can you bowl\n\t\t\twith those little arms?\n\nSLIMER GRUNTS and SLOBBERS a reply, flexing his scrawny biceps.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, I have to go save Dana.  I'll see you\n\t\t\tlater.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. MUSEUM - NIGHT (LITTLE LATER)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters are greeted by wild cheering and applause as they come\nout the main entrance with Dana and the baby.  Everybody starts singing\n\"Auld Lang Syne.\"  Louis picks his way through the celebrating crowd and\nfinds the Ghostbusters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tAm I too late?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo, you're right on time.\n\nStantz pops the cork on a bottle of champagne and hands it to him.\n\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM ENTRANCE - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nHardemeyer staggers out of the museum covered in slime.  He looks at the\ncelebrating crowd and his eyes fill with tears.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (weepy)\n\t\t\tHappy New Year, everybody!\n\nHe joins in on \"Auld Lang Syne.\"\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  CENTRAL PARK - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nThe Statue of Liberty is sprawled inert on her back in the park behind\nthe museum, her toga up over her knees.  The Mayor looks nearly suicidal.\nThe Ghostbusters stand beside him commiserating.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tShe's all right.  She's just sleeping it off.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (stricken)\n\t\t\tWe just had it restored.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThis probably isn't a good time to bring\n\t\t\tthis up, but the last time we did a job for\n\t\t\tthe city you stiffed us.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (handing the Mayor an\n\t\t\t\t invoice)\n\t\t\tThis is a bill for tonight's job.\n\nThe Mayor looks at it and gasps at the amount.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\tWhat!  This is way too much.\n\t\t\t\t (hands the bill back to\n\t\t\t\t Venkman)\n\t\t\tWe won't pay.\n\nVenkman looks at the Statue.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tI think she looks pretty good here, don't\n\t\t\tyou?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, and a lot easier to get to than that island.\n\nRealizing he has no alternative, the Mayor sighs and takes the bill back.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\tAll right, all right.  If you can wait until\n\t\tMonday I'll issue you a check.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\tSorry.  No checks.  Company policy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tCUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. LIBERTY ISLAND - DAY (WEEKS LATER)\n</b>\nThe sun is shining brightly and Liberty is back on her pedestal where she\nbelongs.  The Mayor and a host of officials are commemorating her return.\nThe Ghostbusters, Dana, Janine and Louis are there as honored guests.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t(looking up at the statue)\n\t\tPretty impressive, huh?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t(musing)\n\t\tIt's probably the first thing my\n\t\tgrandparents saw when they came to this\n\t\tcountry.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\tFrom where -- Neptune?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\tThey came from Ostrov in Eastern Poland.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\tOstrov?  I've been there.  Good party town.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t(in a similarly reflective\n\t\t\tmood)\n\t\tMy great-grandparents were Swiss.  I still\n\t\thave the pictures they took of the statue\n\t\tfrom the boat when they arrived.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\tOh, right, you told me that.  They came to\n\t\tAmerica seeking other kinds of cheese, as I\n\t\trecall.  How about you, Winston?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tMy people weren't taking any pictures from\n\t\t\tthose slave ships, man.  And there wasn't\n\t\t\tany Statue in Charleston Harbor to welcome\n\t\t\tthem, either.  What are you, Dana?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tMiss Blue Blood?  Her family's been here\n\t\t\tsince the year 12.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThat's not true.  It was 1620.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSame difference.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWhat's your story, Pete?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tMe?  I'm a little of everything.  Some Irish,\n\t\t\tsome German, some French, Dutch -- the women\n\t\t\tin my family slept around.  And that's what\n\t\t\tmade this country great.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThat's a terrible thing to say.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo what?  It's a free country.\n\t\t\t\t (looking up at the Statue)\n\t\t\tThanks, Lib.\n\nThey all look up at the Statue.\n\n<b>EXT.  STATUE OF LIBERTY - HEAD OF STATUE - DAY\n</b>\nSlimer flies out one of the observation windows, THEME MUSIC KICKS IN and\nthe CAMERA PULLS UP and AWAY FROM the island TO a HIGH SHOT of the\nStatue, lower Manhattan and the shining sea beyond.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tFADE OUT.\n</b>\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tTHE END\n</b>\n\nNow, answer the question based on the story asconcisely as you can, using a single phrase if possible. Do not provide any explanation.\n\nQuestion: Who asks the Ghostbusters for help?\n\nAnswer:"}
{"question_id": 124, "category": "longbench_narrativeqa", "reference": ["Baron Frederick"], "prompt": "You are given a story, which can be either a novel or a movie script, and a question. Answer the question asconcisely as you can, using a single phrase if possible. Do not provide any explanation.\n\nStory: Produced by Angus Christian\n\n\n\n\n\nOTTO OF THE SILVER HAND\n\nBy Howard Pyle\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n     I.    The Dragon's House,\n     II.   How the Baron Went Forth to Shear,\n     III.  How the Baron Came Home Shorn,\n     IV.   The White Cross on the Hill,\n     V.    How Otto Dwelt at St. Michaelsburg,\n     VI.   How Otto Lived in the Dragon's House,\n     VII.  The Red Cock Crows on Drachenhausen,\n     VIII. In the House of the Dragon Scorner,\n     IX.   How One-eyed Hans Came to Trutz-Drachen,\n     X.    How Hans Brought Terror to the Kitchen,\n     XI.   How Otto was Saved,\n     XII.  A Ride for Life,\n     XIII. How Baron Conrad Held the Bridge,\n     XIV.  How Otto Saw the Great Emperor,\n\n\n\n\nFOREWORD.\n\nBetween the far away past history of the world, and that which lies near\nto us; in the time when the wisdom of the ancient times was dead and\nhad passed away, and our own days of light had not yet come, there lay a\ngreat black gulf in human history, a gulf of ignorance, of superstition,\nof cruelty, and of wickedness.\n\nThat time we call the dark or middle ages.\n\nFew records remain to us of that dreadful period in our world's history,\nand we only know of it through broken and disjointed fragments that have\nbeen handed down to us through the generations.\n\nYet, though the world's life then was so wicked and black, there yet\nremained a few good men and women here and there (mostly in peaceful\nand quiet monasteries, far from the thunder and the glare of the worlds\nbloody battle), who knew the right and the truth and lived according to\nwhat they knew; who preserved and tenderly cared for the truths that the\ndear Christ taught, and lived and died for in Palestine so long ago.\n\nThis tale that I am about to tell is of a little boy who lived and\nsuffered in those dark middle ages; of how he saw both the good and the\nbad of men, and of how, by gentleness and love and not by strife and\nhatred, he came at last to stand above other men and to be looked up to\nby all. And should you follow the story to the end, I hope you may find\nit a pleasure, as I have done, to ramble through those dark ancient\ncastles, to lie with little Otto and Brother John in the high\nbelfry-tower, or to sit with them in the peaceful quiet of the sunny\nold monastery garden, for, of all the story, I love best those early\npeaceful years that little Otto spent in the dear old White Cross on the\nHill.\n\nPoor little Otto's life was a stony and a thorny pathway, and it is well\nfor all of us nowadays that we walk it in fancy and not in truth.\n\n\n\n\nI. The Dragon's House.\n\nUp from the gray rocks, rising sheer and bold and bare, stood the walls\nand towers of Castle Drachenhausen. A great gate-way, with a heavy\niron-pointed portcullis hanging suspended in the dim arch above, yawned\nblackly upon the bascule or falling drawbridge that spanned a chasm\nbetween the blank stone walls and the roadway that winding down the\nsteep rocky slope to the little valley just beneath. There in the lap of\nthe hills around stood the wretched straw-thatched huts of the peasants\nbelonging to the castle--miserable serfs who, half timid, half fierce,\ntilled their poor patches of ground, wrenching from the hard soil barely\nenough to keep body and soul together. Among those vile hovels played\nthe little children like foxes about their dens, their wild, fierce eyes\npeering out from under a mat of tangled yellow hair.\n\nBeyond these squalid huts lay the rushing, foaming river, spanned by a\nhigh, rude, stone bridge where the road from the castle crossed it, and\nbeyond the river stretched the great, black forest, within whose gloomy\ndepths the savage wild beasts made their lair, and where in winter time\nthe howling wolves coursed their flying prey across the moonlit snow and\nunder the net-work of the black shadows from the naked boughs above.\n\nThe watchman in the cold, windy bartizan or watch-tower that clung to\nthe gray walls above the castle gateway, looked from his narrow window,\nwhere the wind piped and hummed, across the tree-tops that rolled in\nendless billows of green, over hill and over valley to the blue and\ndistant slope of the Keiserberg, where, on the mountain side, glimmered\nfar away the walls of Castle Trutz-Drachen.\n\nWithin the massive stone walls through which the gaping gateway led,\nthree great cheerless brick buildings, so forbidding that even the\nyellow sunlight could not light them into brightness, looked down, with\nrow upon row of windows, upon three sides of the bleak, stone courtyard.\nBack of and above them clustered a jumble of other buildings, tower and\nturret, one high-peaked roof overtopping another.\n\nThe great house in the centre was the Baron's Hall, the part to the left\nwas called the Roderhausen; between the two stood a huge square pile,\nrising dizzily up into the clear air high above the rest--the great\nMelchior Tower.\n\nAt the top clustered a jumble of buildings hanging high aloft in the\nwindy space a crooked wooden belfry, a tall, narrow watch-tower, and a\nrude wooden house that clung partly to the roof of the great tower and\npartly to the walls.\n\nFrom the chimney of this crazy hut a thin thread of smoke would now and\nthen rise into the air, for there were folk living far up in that empty,\nairy desert, and oftentimes wild, uncouth little children were seen\nplaying on the edge of the dizzy height, or sitting with their bare\nlegs hanging down over the sheer depths, as they gazed below at what was\ngoing on in the court-yard. There they sat, just as little children in\nthe town might sit upon their father's door-step; and as the sparrows\nmight fly around the feet of the little town children, so the circling\nflocks of rooks and daws flew around the feet of these air-born\ncreatures.\n\nIt was Schwartz Carl and his wife and little ones who lived far up there\nin the Melchior Tower, for it overlooked the top of the hill behind the\ncastle and so down into the valley upon the further side. There, day\nafter day, Schwartz Carl kept watch upon the gray road that ran like a\nribbon through the valley, from the rich town of Gruenstaldt to the rich\ntown of Staffenburgen, where passed merchant caravans from the one to\nthe other--for the lord of Drachenhausen was a robber baron.\n\nDong! Dong! The great alarm bell would suddenly ring out from the belfry\nhigh up upon the Melchior Tower. Dong! Dong! Till the rooks and daws\nwhirled clamoring and screaming. Dong! Dong! Till the fierce wolf-hounds\nin the rocky kennels behind the castle stables howled dismally in\nanswer. Dong! Dong!--Dong! Dong!\n\nThen would follow a great noise and uproar and hurry in the castle\ncourt-yard below; men shouting and calling to one another, the ringing\nof armor, and the clatter of horses' hoofs upon the hard stone. With the\ncreaking and groaning of the windlass the iron-pointed portcullis would\nbe slowly raised, and with a clank and rattle and clash of iron chains\nthe drawbridge would fall crashing. Then over it would thunder horse and\nman, clattering away down the winding, stony pathway, until the great\nforest would swallow them, and they would be gone.\n\nThen for a while peace would fall upon the castle courtyard, the cock\nwould crow, the cook would scold a lazy maid, and Gretchen, leaning out\nof a window, would sing a snatch of a song, just as though it were a\npeaceful farm-house, instead of a den of robbers.\n\nMaybe it would be evening before the men would return once more. Perhaps\none would have a bloody cloth bound about his head, perhaps one would\ncarry his arm in a sling; perhaps one--maybe more than one--would be\nleft behind, never to return again, and soon forgotten by all excepting\nsome poor woman who would weep silently in the loneliness of her daily\nwork.\n\nNearly always the adventurers would bring back with them pack-horses\nladen with bales of goods. Sometimes, besides these, they would return\nwith a poor soul, his hands tied behind his back and his feet beneath\nthe horse's body, his fur cloak and his flat cap wofully awry. A while\nhe would disappear in some gloomy cell of the dungeon-keep, until an\nenvoy would come from the town with a fat purse, when his ransom would\nbe paid, the dungeon would disgorge him, and he would be allowed to go\nupon his way again.\n\nOne man always rode beside Baron Conrad in his expeditions and\nadventures a short, deep-chested, broad-shouldered man, with sinewy arms\nso long that when he stood his hands hung nearly to his knees.\n\nHis coarse, close-clipped hair came so low upon his brow that only a\nstrip of forehead showed between it and his bushy, black eyebrows. One\neye was blind; the other twinkled and gleamed like a spark under the\npenthouse of his brows. Many folk said that the one-eyed Hans had drunk\nbeer with the Hill-man, who had given him the strength of ten, for he\ncould bend an iron spit like a hazel twig, and could lift a barrel of\nwine from the floor to his head as easily as though it were a basket of\neggs.\n\nAs for the one-eyed Hans he never said that he had not drunk beer with\nthe Hill-man, for he liked the credit that such reports gave him with\nthe other folk. And so, like a half savage mastiff, faithful to death\nto his master, but to him alone, he went his sullen way and lived his\nsullen life within the castle walls, half respected, half feared by the\nother inmates, for it was dangerous trifling with the one-eyed Hans.\n\n\n\n\nII. How the Baron went Forth to Shear.\n\nBaron Conrad and Baroness Matilda sat together at their morning meal\nbelow their raised seats stretched the long, heavy wooden table, loaded\nwith coarse food--black bread, boiled cabbage, bacon, eggs, a great\nchine from a wild boar, sausages, such as we eat nowadays, and flagons\nand jars of beer and wine, Along the board sat ranged in the order of\nthe household the followers and retainers. Four or five slatternly women\nand girls served the others as they fed noisily at the table, moving\nhere and there behind the men with wooden or pewter dishes of food, now\nand then laughing at the jests that passed or joining in the talk. A\nhuge fire blazed and crackled and roared in the great open fireplace,\nbefore which were stretched two fierce, shaggy, wolfish-looking hounds.\nOutside, the rain beat upon the roof or ran trickling from the eaves,\nand every now and then a chill draught of wind would breathe through the\nopen windows of the great black dining-hall and set the fire roaring.\n\nAlong the dull-gray wall of stone hung pieces of armor, and swords and\nlances, and great branching antlers of the stag. Overhead arched the\nrude, heavy, oaken beams, blackened with age and smoke, and underfoot\nwas a chill pavement of stone.\n\nUpon Baron Conrad's shoulder leaned the pale, slender, yellow-haired\nBaroness, the only one in all the world with whom the fierce lord of\nDrachenhausen softened to gentleness, the only one upon whom his savage\nbrows looked kindly, and to whom his harsh voice softened with love.\n\nThe Baroness was talking to her husband in a low voice, as he looked\ndown into her pale face, with its gentle blue eyes.\n\n\"And wilt thou not, then,\" said she, \"do that one thing for me?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" he growled, in his deep voice, \"I cannot promise thee never more\nto attack the towns-people in the valley over yonder. How else could I\nlive an' I did not take from the fat town hogs to fill our own larder?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said the Baroness, \"thou couldst live as some others do, for all\ndo not rob the burgher folk as thou dost. Alas! mishap will come upon\nthee some day, and if thou shouldst be slain, what then would come of\nme?\"\n\n\"Prut,\" said the Baron, \"thy foolish fears\" But he laid his rough, hairy\nhand softly upon the Baroness' head and stroked her yellow hair.\n\n\"For my sake, Conrad,\" whispered the Baroness.\n\nA pause followed. The Baron sat looking thoughtfully down into the\nBaroness' face. A moment more, and he might have promised what she\nbesought; a moment more, and he might have been saved all the bitter\ntrouble that was to follow. But it was not to be.\n\nSuddenly a harsh sound broke the quietness of all into a confusion of\nnoises. Dong! Dong!--it was the great alarm-bell from Melchior's Tower.\n\nThe Baron started at the sound. He sat for a moment or two with his hand\nclinched upon the arm of his seat as though about to rise, then he sunk\nback into his chair again.\n\nAll the others had risen tumultuously from the table, and now stood\nlooking at him, awaiting his orders.\n\n\"For my sake, Conrad,\" said the Baroness again.\n\nDong! Dong! rang the alarm-bell. The Baron sat with his eyes bent upon\nthe floor, scowling blackly.\n\nThe Baroness took his hand in both of hers. \"For my sake,\" she pleaded,\nand the tears filled her blue eyes as she looked up at him, \"do not go\nthis time.\"\n\nFrom the courtyard without came the sound of horses' hoofs clashing\nagainst the stone pavement, and those in the hall stood watching and\nwondering at this strange delay of the Lord Baron. Just then the door\nopened and one came pushing past the rest; it was the one-eyed Hans.\nHe came straight to where the Baron sat, and, leaning over, whispered\nsomething into his master's ear.\n\n\"For my sake,\" implored the Baroness again; but the scale was turned.\nThe Baron pushed back his chair heavily and rose to his feet. \"Forward!\"\nhe roared, in a voice of thunder, and a great shout went up in answer as\nhe strode clanking down the hall and out of the open door.\n\nThe Baroness covered her face with her hands and wept.\n\n\"Never mind, little bird,\" said old Ursela, the nurse, soothingly; \"he\nwill come back to thee again as he has come back to thee before.\"\n\nBut the poor young Baroness continued weeping with her face buried in\nher hands, because he had not done that thing she had asked.\n\nA white young face framed in yellow hair looked out into the courtyard\nfrom a window above; but if Baron Conrad of Drachenhausen saw it from\nbeneath the bars of his shining helmet, he made no sign.\n\n\"Forward,\" he cried again.\n\nDown thundered the drawbridge, and away they rode with clashing hoofs\nand ringing armor through the gray shroud of drilling rain.\n\nThe day had passed and the evening had come, and the Baroness and her\nwomen sat beside a roaring fire. All were chattering and talking and\nlaughing but two--the fair young Baroness and old Ursela; the one sat\nlistening, listening, listening, the other sat with her chin resting in\nthe palm of her hand, silently watching her young mistress. The night\nwas falling gray and chill, when suddenly the clear notes of a bugle\nrang from without the castle walls. The young Baroness started, and the\nrosy light flashed up into her pale cheeks.\n\n\"Yes, good,\" said old Ursela; \"the red fox has come back to his den\nagain, and I warrant he brings a fat town goose in his mouth; now we'll\nhave fine clothes to wear, and thou another gold chain to hang about thy\npretty neck.\"\n\nThe young Baroness laughed merrily at the old woman's speech. \"This\ntime,\" said she, \"I will choose a string of pearls like that one my aunt\nused to wear, and which I had about my neck when Conrad first saw me.\"\n\nMinute after minute passed; the Baroness sat nervously playing with a\nbracelet of golden beads about her wrist. \"How long he stays,\" said she.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Ursela; \"but it is not cousin wish that holds him by the\ncoat.\"\n\nAs she spoke, a door banged in the passageway without, and the ring of\niron footsteps sounded upon the stone floor. Clank! Clank! Clank!\n\nThe Baroness rose to her feet, her face all alight. The door opened;\nthen the flush of joy faded away and the face grew white, white, white.\nOne hand clutched the back of the bench whereon she had been sitting,\nthe other hand pressed tightly against her side.\n\nIt was Hans the one-eyed who stood in the doorway, and black trouble sat\non his brow; all were looking at him waiting.\n\n\"Conrad,\" whispered the Baroness, at last. \"Where is Conrad? Where is\nyour master?\" and even her lips were white as she spoke.\n\nThe one-eyed Hans said nothing.\n\nJust then came the noise of men s voices in the corridor and the shuffle\nand scuffle of feet carrying a heavy load. Nearer and nearer they came,\nand one-eyed Hans stood aside. Six men came struggling through the\ndoorway, carrying a litter, and on the litter lay the great Baron\nConrad. The flaming torch thrust into the iron bracket against the wall\nflashed up with the draught of air from the open door, and the light\nfell upon the white face and the closed eyes, and showed upon his body\narmor a great red stain that was not the stain of rust.\n\nSuddenly Ursela cried out in a sharp, shrill voice, \"Catch her, she\nfalls!\"\n\nIt was the Baroness.\n\nThen the old crone turned fiercely upon the one-eyed Hans. \"Thou fool!\"\nshe cried, \"why didst thou bring him here? Thou hast killed thy lady!\"\n\n\"I did not know,\" said the one-eyed Hans, stupidly.\n\n\n\n\nIII. How the Baron came Home Shorn.\n\nBut Baron Conrad was not dead. For days he lay upon his hard bed, now\nmuttering incoherent words beneath his red beard, now raving fiercely\nwith the fever of his wound. But one day he woke again to the things\nabout him.\n\nHe turned his head first to the one side and then to the other; there\nsat Schwartz Carl and the one-eyed Hans. Two or three other retainers\nstood by a great window that looked out into the courtyard beneath,\njesting and laughing together in low tones, and one lay upon the heavy\noaken bench that stood along by the wall snoring in his sleep.\n\n\"Where is your lady?\" said the Baron, presently; \"and why is she not\nwith me at this time?\"\n\nThe man that lay upon the bench started up at the sound of his voice,\nand those at the window came hurrying to his bedside. But Schwartz Carl\nand the one-eyed Hans looked at one another, and neither of them spoke.\nThe Baron saw the look and in it read a certain meaning that brought\nhim to his elbow, though only to sink back upon his pillow again with a\ngroan.\n\n\"Why do you not answer me?\" said he at last, in a hollow voice; then\nto the one-eyed Hans, \"Hast no tongue, fool, that thou standest gaping\nthere like a fish? Answer me, where is thy mistress?\"\n\n\"I--I do not know,\" stammered poor Hans.\n\nFor a while the Baron lay silently looking from one face to the other,\nthen he spoke again. \"How long have I been lying here?\" said he.\n\n\"A sennight, my lord,\" said Master Rudolph, the steward, who had come\ninto the room and who now stood among the others at the bedside.\n\n\"A sennight,\" repeated the Baron, in a low voice, and then to Master\nRudolph, \"And has the Baroness been often beside me in that time?\"\nMaster Rudolph hesitated. \"Answer me,\" said the Baron, harshly.\n\n\"Not--not often,\" said Master Rudolph, hesitatingly.\n\nThe Baron lay silent for a long time. At last he passed his hands over\nhis face and held them there for a minute, then of a sudden, before\nanyone knew what he was about to do, he rose upon his elbow and then sat\nupright upon the bed. The green wound broke out afresh and a dark red\nspot grew and spread upon the linen wrappings; his face was drawn and\nhaggard with the pain of his moving, and his eyes wild and bloodshot.\nGreat drops of sweat gathered and stood upon his forehead as he sat\nthere swaying slightly from side to side.\n\n\"My shoes,\" said he, hoarsely.\n\nMaster Rudolph stepped forward. \"But, my Lord Baron,\" he began and then\nstopped short, for the Baron shot him such a look that his tongue stood\nstill in his head.\n\nHans saw that look out of his one eye. Down he dropped upon his knees\nand, fumbling under the bed, brought forth a pair of soft leathern\nshoes, which he slipped upon the Baron's feet and then laced the thongs\nabove the instep.\n\n\"Your shoulder,\" said the Baron. He rose slowly to his feet, gripping\nHans in the stress of his agony until the fellow winced again. For a\nmoment he stood as though gathering strength, then doggedly started\nforth upon that quest which he had set upon himself.\n\nAt the door he stopped for a moment as though overcome by his weakness,\nand there Master Nicholas, his cousin, met him; for the steward had sent\none of the retainers to tell the old man what the Baron was about to do.\n\n\"Thou must go back again, Conrad,\" said Master Nicholas; \"thou art not\nfit to be abroad.\"\n\nThe Baron answered him never a word, but he glared at him from out of\nhis bloodshot eyes and ground his teeth together. Then he started forth\nagain upon his way.\n\nDown the long hall he went, slowly and laboriously, the others following\nsilently behind him, then up the steep winding stairs, step by step,\nnow and then stopping to lean against the wall. So he reached a long\nand gloomy passageway lit only by the light of a little window at the\nfurther end.\n\nHe stopped at the door of one of the rooms that opened into this\npassage-way, stood for a moment, then he pushed it open.\n\nNo one was within but old Ursela, who sat crooning over a fire with a\nbundle upon her knees. She did not see the Baron or know that he was\nthere.\n\n\"Where is your lady?\" said he, in a hollow voice.\n\nThen the old nurse looked up with a start. \"Jesu bless us,\" cried she,\nand crossed herself.\n\n\"Where is your lady?\" said the Baron again, in the same hoarse voice;\nand then, not waiting for an answer, \"Is she dead?\"\n\nThe old woman looked at him for a minute blinking her watery eyes, and\nthen suddenly broke into a shrill, long-drawn wail. The Baron needed to\nhear no more.\n\nAs though in answer to the old woman's cry, a thin piping complaint came\nfrom the bundle in her lap.\n\nAt the sound the red blood flashed up into the Baron's face. \"What\nis that you have there?\" said he, pointing to the bundle upon the old\nwoman's knees.\n\nShe drew back the coverings and there lay a poor, weak, little baby,\nthat once again raised its faint reedy pipe.\n\n\"It is your son,\" said Ursela, \"that the dear Baroness left behind her\nwhen the holy angels took her to Paradise. She blessed him and called\nhim Otto before she left us.\"\n\n\n\n\nIV. The White Cross on the Hill.\n\nHere the glassy waters of the River Rhine, holding upon its bosom a\nmimic picture of the blue sky and white clouds floating above, runs\nsmoothly around a jutting point of land, St. Michaelsburg, rising from\nthe reedy banks of the stream, sweeps up with a smooth swell until\nit cuts sharp and clear against the sky. Stubby vineyards covered its\nearthy breast, and field and garden and orchard crowned its brow, where\nlay the Monastery of St. Michaelsburg--\"The White Cross on the Hill.\"\nThere within the white walls, where the warm yellow sunlight slept, all\nwas peaceful quietness, broken only now and then by the crowing of\nthe cock or the clamorous cackle of a hen, the lowing of kine or the\nbleating of goats, a solitary voice in prayer, the faint accord of\ndistant singing, or the resonant toll of the monastery bell from the\nhigh-peaked belfry that overlooked the hill and valley and the smooth,\nfar-winding stream. No other sounds broke the stillness, for in this\npeaceful haven was never heard the clash of armor, the ring of iron-shod\nhoofs, or the hoarse call to arms.\n\nAll men were not wicked and cruel and fierce in that dark, far-away age;\nall were not robbers and terror-spreading tyrants, even in that time\nwhen men's hands were against their neighbors, and war and rapine dwelt\nin place of peace and justice.\n\nAbbot Otto, of St. Michaelsburg, was a gentle, patient, pale-faced old\nman; his white hands were soft and smooth, and no one would have thought\nthat they could have known the harsh touch of sword-hilt and lance. And\nyet, in the days of the Emperor Frederick--the grandson of the great\nRed-beard--no one stood higher in the prowess of arms than he. But all\nat once--for why, no man could tell--a change came over him, and in the\nflower of his youth and fame and growing power he gave up everything\nin life and entered the quiet sanctuary of that white monastery on the\nhill-side, so far away from the tumult and the conflict of the world in\nwhich he had lived.\n\nSome said that it was because the lady he had loved had loved his\nbrother, and that when they were married Otto of Wolbergen had left the\nchurch with a broken heart.\n\nBut such stories are old songs that have been sung before.\n\nClatter! clatter! Jingle! jingle! It was a full-armed knight that came\nriding up the steep hill road that wound from left to right and right to\nleft amid the vineyards on the slopes of St. Michaelsburg. Polished helm\nand corselet blazed in the noon sunlight, for no knight in those days\ndared to ride the roads except in full armor. In front of him the\nsolitary knight carried a bundle wrapped in the folds of his coarse gray\ncloak.\n\nIt was a sorely sick man that rode up the heights of St. Michaelsburg.\nHis head hung upon his breast through the faintness of weariness and\npain; for it was the Baron Conrad.\n\nHe had left his bed of sickness that morning, had saddled his horse in\nthe gray dawn with his own hands, and had ridden away into the misty\ntwilight of the forest without the knowledge of anyone excepting the\nporter, who, winking and blinking in the bewilderment of his broken\nslumber, had opened the gates to the sick man, hardly knowing what he\nwas doing, until he beheld his master far away, clattering down the\nsteep bridle-path.\n\nEight leagues had he ridden that day with neither a stop nor a stay; but\nnow at last the end of his journey had come, and he drew rein under the\nshade of the great wooden gateway of St. Michaelsburg.\n\nHe reached up to the knotted rope and gave it a pull, and from within\nsounded the answering ring of the porter's bell. By and by a little\nwicket opened in the great wooden portals, and the gentle, wrinkled face\nof old Brother Benedict, the porter, peeped out at the strange iron-clad\nvisitor and the great black war-horse, streaked and wet with the sweat\nof the journey, flecked and dappled with flakes of foam. A few words\npassed between them, and then the little window was closed again; and\nwithin, the shuffling pat of the sandalled feet sounded fainter and\nfainter, as Brother Benedict bore the message from Baron Conrad to Abbot\nOtto, and the mail-clad figure was left alone, sitting there as silent\nas a statue.\n\nBy and by the footsteps sounded again; there came a noise of clattering\nchains and the rattle of the key in the lock, and the rasping of the\nbolts dragged back. Then the gate swung slowly open, and Baron Conrad\nrode into the shelter of the White Cross, and as the hoofs of his\nwar-horse clashed upon the stones of the courtyard within, the wooden\ngate swung slowly to behind him.\n\nAbbot Otto stood by the table when Baron Conrad entered the high-vaulted\nroom from the farther end. The light from the oriel window behind the\nold man shed broken rays of light upon him, and seemed to frame his thin\ngray hairs with a golden glory. His white, delicate hand rested upon the\ntable beside him, and upon some sheets of parchment covered with rows of\nancient Greek writing which he had been engaged in deciphering.\n\nClank! clank! clank! Baron Conrad strode across the stone floor, and\nthen stopped short in front of the good old man.\n\n\"What dost thou seek here, my son?\" said the Abbot.\n\n\"I seek sanctuary for my son and thy brother's grandson,\" said the Baron\nConrad, and he flung back the folds of his cloak and showed the face of\nthe sleeping babe.\n\nFor a while the Abbot said nothing, but stood gazing dreamily at\nthe baby. After a while he looked up. \"And the child's mother,\" said\nhe--\"what hath she to say at this?\"\n\n\"She hath naught to say,\" said Baron Conrad, hoarsely, and then stopped\nshort in his speech. \"She is dead,\" said he, at last, in a husky voice,\n\"and is with God's angels in paradise.\"\n\nThe Abbot looked intently in the Baron's face. \"So!\" said he, under his\nbreath, and then for the first time noticed how white and drawn was the\nBaron's face. \"Art sick thyself?\" he asked.\n\n\"Ay,\" said the Baron, \"I have come from death's door. But that is no\nmatter. Wilt thou take this little babe into sanctuary? My house is a\nvile, rough place, and not fit for such as he, and his mother with the\nblessed saints in heaven.\" And once more Conrad of Drachenhausen's face\nbegan twitching with the pain of his thoughts.\n\n\"Yes,\" said the old man, gently, \"he shall live here,\" and he stretched\nout his hands and took the babe. \"Would,\" said he, \"that all the little\nchildren in these dark times might be thus brought to the house of God,\nand there learn mercy and peace, instead of rapine and war.\"\n\nFor a while he stood looking down in silence at the baby in his arms,\nbut with his mind far away upon other things. At last he roused himself\nwith a start. \"And thou,\" said he to the Baron Conrad--\"hath not thy\nheart been chastened and softened by this? Surely thou wilt not go back\nto thy old life of rapine and extortion?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Baron Conrad, gruffly, \"I will rob the city swine no longer,\nfor that was the last thing that my dear one asked of me.\"\n\nThe old Abbot's face lit up with a smile. \"I am right glad that thy\nheart was softened, and that thou art willing at last to cease from war\nand violence.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" cried the Baron, roughly, \"I said nothing of ceasing from war. By\nheaven, no! I will have revenge!\" And he clashed his iron foot upon the\nfloor and clinched his fists and ground his teeth together. \"Listen,\"\nsaid he, \"and I will tell thee how my troubles happened. A fortnight ago\nI rode out upon an expedition against a caravan of fat burghers in the\nvalley of Gruenhoffen. They outnumbered us many to one, but city swine\nsuch as they are not of the stuff to stand against our kind for a long\ntime. Nevertheless, while the men-at-arms who guarded the caravan were\nstaying us with pike and cross-bow from behind a tree which they had\nfelled in front of a high bridge the others had driven the pack-horses\noff, so that by the time we had forced the bridge they were a league\nor more away. We pushed after them as hard as we were able, but when we\ncame up with them we found that they had been joined by Baron Frederick\nof Trutz-Drachen, to whom for three years and more the burghers of\nGruenstadt have been paying a tribute for his protection against others.\nThen again they made a stand, and this time the Baron Frederick himself\nwas with them. But though the dogs fought well, we were forcing them\nback, and might have got the better of them, had not my horse stumbled\nupon a sloping stone, and so fell and rolled over upon me. While I lay\nthere with my horse upon me, Baron Frederick ran me down with his lance,\nand gave me that foul wound that came so near to slaying me--and did\nslay my dear wife. Nevertheless, my men were able to bring me out from\nthat press and away, and we had bitten the Trutz-Drachen dogs so deep\nthat they were too sore to follow us, and so let us go our way in peace.\nBut when those fools of mine brought me to my castle they bore me lying\nupon a litter to my wife's chamber. There she beheld me, and, thinking\nme dead, swooned a death-swoon, so that she only lived long enough to\nbless her new-born babe and name it Otto, for you, her father's brother.\nBut, by heavens! I will have revenge, root and branch, upon that vile\ntribe, the Roderburgs of Trutz-Drachen. Their great-grandsire built that\ncastle in scorn of Baron Casper in the old days; their grandsire slew my\nfather's grandsire; Baron Nicholas slew two of our kindred; and now this\nBaron Frederick gives me that foul wound and kills my dear wife through\nmy body.\" Here the Baron stopped short; then of a sudden, shaking his\nfist above his head, he cried out in his hoarse voice: \"I swear by all\nthe saints in heaven, either the red cock shall crow over the roof of\nTrutz-Drachen or else it shall crow over my house! The black dog shall\nsit on Baron Frederick's shoulders or else he shall sit on mine!\" Again\nhe stopped, and fixing his blazing eyes upon the old man, \"Hearest thou\nthat, priest?\" said he, and broke into a great boisterous laugh.\n\nAbbot Otto sighed heavily, but he tried no further to persuade the other\ninto different thoughts.\n\n\"Thou art wounded,\" said he, at last, in a gentle voice; \"at least stay\nhere with us until thou art healed.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said the Baron, roughly, \"I will tarry no longer than to hear\nthee promise to care for my child.\"\n\n\"I promise,\" said the Abbot; \"but lay aside thy armor, and rest.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said the Baron, \"I go back again to-day.\"\n\nAt this the Abbot cried out in amazement: \"Sure thou, wounded man, would\nnot take that long journey without a due stay for resting! Think! Night\nwill be upon thee before thou canst reach home again, and the forests\nare beset with wolves.\"\n\nThe Baron laughed. \"Those are not the wolves I fear,\" said he. \"Urge me\nno further, I must return to-night; yet if thou hast a mind to do me a\nkindness thou canst give me some food to eat and a flask of your golden\nMichaelsburg; beyond these, I ask no further favor of any man, be he\npriest or layman.\"\n\n\"What comfort I can give thee thou shalt have,\" said the Abbot, in his\npatient voice, and so left the room to give the needful orders, bearing\nthe babe with him.\n\n\n\n\nV. How Otto Dwelt at St. Michaelsburg.\n\nSo the poor, little, motherless waif lived among the old monks at the\nWhite Cross on the hill, thriving and growing apace until he had reached\neleven or twelve years of age; a slender, fair-haired little fellow,\nwith a strange, quiet serious manner.\n\n\"Poor little child!\" Old Brother Benedict would sometimes say to the\nothers, \"poor little child! The troubles in which he was born must have\nbroken his wits like a glass cup. What think ye he said to me to-day?\n'Dear Brother Benedict,' said he, 'dost thou shave the hair off of the\ntop of thy head so that the dear God may see thy thoughts the better?'\nThink of that now!\" and the good old man shook with silent laughter.\n\nWhen such talk came to the good Father Abbot's ears, he smiled quietly\nto himself. \"It may be,\" said he, \"that the wisdom of little children\nflies higher than our heavy wits can follow.\"\n\nAt least Otto was not slow with his studies, and Brother Emmanuel,\nwho taught him his lessons, said more than once that, if his wits were\ncracked in other ways, they were sound enough in Latin.\n\nOtto, in a quaint, simple way which belonged to him, was gentle\nand obedient to all. But there was one among the Brethren of St.\nMichaelsburg whom he loved far above all the rest--Brother John, a poor\nhalf-witted fellow, of some twenty-five or thirty years of age. When\na very little child, he had fallen from his nurse's arms and hurt his\nhead, and as he grew up into boyhood, and showed that his wits had been\naddled by his fall, his family knew not what else to do with him, and\nso sent him off to the Monastery of St. Michaelsburg, where he lived\nhis simple, witless life upon a sort of sufferance, as though he were a\ntame, harmless animal.\n\nWhile Otto was still a little baby, he had been given into Brother\nJohn's care. Thereafter, and until Otto had grown old enough to care for\nhimself, poor Brother John never left his little charge, night or day.\nOftentimes the good Father Abbot, coming into the garden, where he loved\nto walk alone in his meditations, would find the poor, simple Brother\nsitting under the shade of the pear-tree, close to the bee-hives,\nrocking the little baby in his arms, singing strange, crazy songs to\nit, and gazing far away into the blue, empty sky with his curious, pale\neyes.\n\nAlthough, as Otto grew up into boyhood, his lessons and his tasks\nseparated him from Brother John, the bond between them seemed to grow\nstronger rather than weaker. During the hours that Otto had for his own\nthey were scarcely ever apart. Down in the vineyard, where the monks\nwere gathering the grapes for the vintage, in the garden, or in the\nfields, the two were always seen together, either wandering hand in\nhand, or seated in some shady nook or corner.\n\nBut most of all they loved to lie up in the airy wooden belfry; the\ngreat gaping bell hanging darkly above them, the mouldering cross-beams\nglimmering far up under the dim shadows of the roof, where dwelt a great\nbrown owl that, unfrightened at their familiar presence, stared down at\nthem with his round, solemn eyes. Below them stretched the white walls\nof the garden, beyond them the vineyard, and beyond that again the far\nshining river, that seemed to Otto's mind to lead into wonder-land.\nThere the two would lie upon the belfry floor by the hour, talking\ntogether of the strangest things.\n\n\"I saw the dear Angel Gabriel again yester morn,\" said Brother John.\n\n\"So!\" says Otto, seriously; \"and where was that?\"\n\n\"It was out in the garden, in the old apple-tree,\" said Brother John. \"I\nwas walking there, and my wits were running around in the grass like a\nmouse. What heard I but a wonderful sound of singing, and it was like\nthe hum of a great bee, only sweeter than honey. So I looked up into the\ntree, and there I saw two sparks. I thought at first that they were\ntwo stars that had fallen out of heaven; but what think you they were,\nlittle child?\"\n\n\"I do not know,\" said Otto, breathlessly.\n\n\"They were angel's eyes,\" said Brother John; and he smiled in the\nstrangest way, as he gazed up into the blue sky. \"So I looked at the two\nsparks and felt happy, as one does in spring time when the cold weather\nis gone, and the warm sun shines, and the cuckoo sings again. Then,\nby-and-by, I saw the face to which the eyes belonged. First, it shone\nwhite and thin like the moon in the daylight; but it grew brighter and\nbrighter, until it hurt one's eyes to look at it, as though it had been\nthe blessed sun itself. Angel Gabriel's hand was as white as silver, and\nin it he held a green bough with blossoms, like those that grow on the\nthorn bush. As for his robe, it was all of one piece, and finer than the\nFather Abbot's linen, and shone beside like the sunlight on pure snow.\nSo I knew from all these things that it was the blessed Angel Gabriel.\"\n\n\"What do they say about this tree, Brother John?\" said he to me.\n\n\"They say it is dying, my Lord Angel,\" said I, \"and that the gardener\nwill bring a sharp axe and cut it down.\"\n\n\"'And what dost thou say about it, Brother John?' said he.\"\n\n\"'I also say yes, and that it is dying,' said I.\"\n\n\"At that he smiled until his face shone so bright that I had to shut my\neyes.\"\n\n\"'Now I begin to believe, Brother John, that thou art as foolish as men\nsay,' said he. 'Look, till I show thee.' And thereat I opened mine eyes\nagain.\"\n\n\"Then Angel Gabriel touched the dead branches with the flowery twig that\nhe held in his hand, and there was the dead wood all covered with green\nleaves, and fair blossoms and beautiful apples as yellow as gold. Each\nsmelling more sweetly than a garden of flowers, and better to the taste\nthan white bread and honey.\n\n\"'They are souls of the apples,' said the good Angel,' and they can\nnever wither and die.'\n\n\"'Then I'll tell the gardener that he shall not cut the tree down,' said\nI.\"\n\n\"'No, no,' said the dear Gabriel, 'that will never do, for if the tree\nis not cut down here on the earth, it can never be planted in paradise.'\"\n\nHere Brother John stopped short in his story, and began singing one of\nhis crazy songs, as he gazed with his pale eyes far away into nothing at\nall.\n\n\"But tell me, Brother John,\" said little Otto, in a hushed voice, \"what\nelse did the good Angel say to thee?\"\n\nBrother John stopped short in his song and began looking from right to\nleft, and up and down, as though to gather his wits.\n\n\"So!\" said he, \"there was something else that he told me. Tschk! If I\ncould but think now. Yes, good! This is it--'Nothing that has lived,'\nsaid he, 'shall ever die, and nothing that has died shall ever live.'\"\n\nOtto drew a deep breath. \"I would that I might see the beautiful Angel\nGabriel sometime,\" said he; but Brother John was singing again and did\nnot seem to hear what he said.\n\nNext to Brother John, the nearest one to the little child was the good\nAbbot Otto, for though he had never seen wonderful things with the eyes\nof his soul, such as Brother John's had beheld, and so could not tell of\nthem, he was yet able to give little Otto another pleasure that no one\nelse could give.\n\nHe was a great lover of books, the old Abbot, and had under lock and key\nwonderful and beautiful volumes, bound in hog-skin and metal, and with\ncovers inlaid with carved ivory, or studded with precious stones. But\nwithin these covers, beautiful as they were, lay the real wonder of the\nbooks, like the soul in the body; for there, beside the black letters\nand initials, gay with red and blue and gold, were beautiful pictures\npainted upon the creamy parchment. Saints and Angels, the Blessed Virgin\nwith the golden oriole about her head, good St. Joseph, the three Kings;\nthe simple Shepherds kneeling in the fields, while Angels with glories\nabout their brow called to the poor Peasants from the blue sky above.\nBut, most beautiful of all was the picture of the Christ Child lying in\nthe manger, with the mild-eyed Kine gazing at him.\n\nSometimes the old Abbot would unlock the iron-bound chest where these\ntreasures lay hidden, and carefully and lovingly brushing the few grains\nof dust from them, would lay them upon the table beside the oriel window\nin front of his little namesake, allowing the little boy freedom to turn\nthe leaves as he chose.\n\nAlways it was one picture that little Otto sought; the Christ Child in\nthe manger, with the Virgin, St. Joseph, the Shepherds, and the Kine.\nAnd as he would hang breathlessly gazing and gazing upon it, the old\nAbbot would sit watching him with a faint, half-sad smile flickering\naround his thin lips and his pale, narrow face.\n\nIt was a pleasant, peaceful life, but by-and-by the end came. Otto was\nnow nearly twelve years old.\n\nOne bright, clear day, near the hour of noon, little Otto heard the\nporter's bell sounding below in the court-yard--dong! dong! Brother\nEmmanuel had been appointed as the boy's instructor, and just then Otto\nwas conning his lessons in the good monk's cell. Nevertheless, at the\nsound of the bell he pricked up his ears and listened, for a visitor was\na strange matter in that out-of-the-way place, and he wondered who it\ncould be. So, while his wits wandered his lessons lagged.\n\n\"Postera Phoeba lustrabat lampade terras,\" continued Brother Emmanuel,\ninexorably running his horny finger-nail beneath the line, \"humentemque\nAurora polo dimoverat umbram--\" the lesson dragged along.\n\nJust then a sandaled footstep sounded without, in the stone corridor,\nand a light tap fell upon Brother Emmanuel's door. It was Brother\nIgnatius, and the Abbot wished little Otto to come to the refectory.\n\nAs they crossed the court-yard Otto stared to see a group of mail-clad\nmen-at-arms, some sitting upon their horses, some standing by the\nsaddle-bow. \"Yonder is the young baron,\" he heard one of them say in a\ngruff voice, and thereupon all turned and stared at him.\n\nA stranger was in the refectory, standing beside the good old Abbot,\nwhile food and wine were being brought and set upon the table for his\nrefreshment; a great, tall, broad-shouldered man, beside whom the Abbot\nlooked thinner and slighter than ever.\n\nThe stranger was clad all in polished and gleaming armor, of plate and\nchain, over which was drawn a loose robe of gray woollen stuff, reaching\nto the knees and bound about the waist by a broad leathern sword-belt.\nUpon his arm he carried a great helmet which he had just removed from\nhis head. His face was weather-beaten and rugged, and on lip and chin\nwas a wiry, bristling beard; once red, now frosted with white.\n\nBrother Ignatius had bidden Otto to enter, and had then closed the door\nbehind him; and now, as the lad walked slowly up the long room, he gazed\nwith round, wondering blue eyes at the stranger.\n\n\"Dost know who I am, Otto? said the mail-clad knight, in a deep,\ngrowling voice.\n\n\"Methinks you are my father, sir,\" said Otto.\n\n\"Aye, thou art right,\" said Baron Conrad, \"and I am glad to see that\nthese milk-churning monks have not allowed thee to forget me, and who\nthou art thyself.\"\n\n\"An' it please you,\" said Otto, \"no one churneth milk here but\nBrother Fritz; we be makers of wine and not makers of butter, at St.\nMichaelsburg.\"\n\nBaron Conrad broke into a great, loud laugh, but Abbot Otto's sad and\nthoughtful face lit up with no shadow of an answering smile.\n\n\"Conrad,\" said he, turning to the other, \"again let me urge thee; do\nnot take the child hence, his life can never be your life, for he is not\nfitted for it. I had thought,\" said he, after a moment's pause, \"I had\nthought that thou hadst meant to consecrate him--this motherless one--to\nthe care of the Universal Mother Church.\"\n\n\"So!\" said the Baron, \"thou hadst thought that, hadst thou? Thou hadst\nthought that I had intended to deliver over this boy, the last of the\nVuelphs, to the arms of the Church? What then was to become of our name\nand the glory of our race if it was to end with him in a monastery? No,\nDrachenhausen is the home of the Vuelphs, and there the last of the race\nshall live as his sires have lived before him, holding to his rights by\nthe power and the might of his right hand.\"\n\nThe Abbot turned and looked at the boy, who was gaping in simple\nwide-eyed wonderment from one to the other as they spoke.\n\n\"And dost thou think, Conrad,\" said the old man, in his gentle, patient\nvoice, \"that that poor child can maintain his rights by the strength of\nhis right hand?\"\n\nThe Baron's look followed the Abbot's, and he said nothing.\n\nIn the few seconds of silence that followed, little Otto, in his simple\nmind, was wondering what all this talk portended. Why had his father\ncome hither to St. Michaelsburg, lighting up the dim silence of the\nmonastery with the flash and ring of his polished armor? Why had he\ntalked about churning butter but now, when all the world knew that the\nmonks of St. Michaelsburg made wine.\n\nIt was Baron Conrad's deep voice that broke the little pause of silence.\n\n\"If you have made a milkmaid of the boy,\" he burst out at last, \"I thank\nthe dear heaven that there is yet time to undo your work and to make a\nman of him.\"\n\nThe Abbot sighed. \"The child is yours, Conrad,\" said he, \"the will of\nthe blessed saints be done. Mayhap if he goes to dwell at Drachenhausen\nhe may make you the better instead of you making him the worse.\"\n\nThen light came to the darkness of little Otto's wonderment; he saw what\nall this talk meant and why his father had come hither. He was to leave\nthe happy, sunny silence of the dear White Cross, and to go out into\nthat great world that he had so often looked down upon from the high\nwindy belfry on the steep hillside.\n\n\n\n\nVI. How Otto Lived in the Dragon's House.\n\nThe gates of the Monastery stood wide open, the world lay beyond, and\nall was ready for departure. Baron Conrad and his men-at-arms sat foot\nin stirrup, the milk-white horse that had been brought for Otto stood\nwaiting for him beside his father's great charger.\n\n\"Farewell, Otto,\" said the good old Abbot, as he stooped and kissed the\nboy's cheek.\n\n\"Farewell,\" answered Otto, in his simple, quiet way, and it brought\na pang to the old man's heart that the child should seem to grieve so\nlittle at the leave-taking.\n\n\"Farewell, Otto,\" said the brethren that stood about, \"farewell,\nfarewell.\"\n\nThen poor brother John came forward and took the boy's hand, and looked\nup into his face as he sat upon his horse. \"We will meet again,\" said\nhe, with his strange, vacant smile, \"but maybe it will be in Paradise,\nand there perhaps they will let us lie in the father's belfry, and look\ndown upon the angels in the court-yard below.\"\n\n\"Aye,\" answered Otto, with an answering smile.\n\n\"Forward,\" cried the Baron, in a deep voice, and with a clash of hoofs\nand jingle of armor they were gone, and the great wooden gates were shut\nto behind them.\n\nDown the steep winding pathway they rode, and out into the great wide\nworld beyond, upon which Otto and brother John had gazed so often from\nthe wooden belfry of the White Cross on the hill.\n\n\"Hast been taught to ride a horse by the priests up yonder on\nMichaelsburg?\" asked the Baron, when they had reached the level road.\n\n\"Nay,\" said Otto; \"we had no horse to ride, but only to bring in the\nharvest or the grapes from the further vineyards to the vintage.\"\n\n\"Prut,\" said the Baron, \"methought the abbot would have had enough of\nthe blood of old days in his veins to have taught thee what is fitting\nfor a knight to know; art not afeared?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Otto, with a smile, \"I am not afeared.\"\n\n\"There at least thou showest thyself a Vuelph,\" said the grim Baron. But\nperhaps Otto's thought of fear and Baron Conrad's thought of fear were\ntwo very different matters.\n\nThe afternoon had passed by the time they had reached the end of their\njourney. Up the steep, stony path they rode to the drawbridge and\nthe great gaping gateway of Drachenhausen, where wall and tower and\nbattlement looked darker and more forbidding than ever in the gray\ntwilight of the coming night. Little Otto looked up with great,\nwondering, awe-struck eyes at this grim new home of his.\n\nThe next moment they clattered over the drawbridge that spanned the\nnarrow black gulph between the roadway and the wall, and the next were\npast the echoing arch of the great gateway and in the gray gloaming of\nthe paved court-yard within.\n\nOtto looked around upon the many faces gathered there to catch the\nfirst sight of the little baron; hard, rugged faces, seamed and\nweather-beaten; very different from those of the gentle brethren among\nwhom he had lived, and it seemed strange to him that there was none\nthere whom he should know.\n\nAs he climbed the steep, stony steps to the door of the Baron's house,\nold Ursela came running down to meet him. She flung her withered arms\naround him and hugged him close to her. \"My little child,\" she cried,\nand then fell to sobbing as though her heart would break.\n\n\"Here is someone knoweth me,\" thought the little boy.\n\nHis new home was all very strange and wonderful to Otto; the armors, the\ntrophies, the flags, the long galleries with their ranges of rooms,\nthe great hall below with its vaulted roof and its great fireplace of\ngrotesquely carved stone, and all the strange people with their lives\nand thoughts so different from what he had been used to know.\n\nAnd it was a wonderful thing to explore all the strange places in the\ndark old castle; places where it seemed to Otto no one could have ever\nbeen before.\n\nOnce he wandered down a long, dark passageway below the hall, pushed\nopen a narrow, iron-bound oaken door, and found himself all at once in\na strange new land; the gray light, coming in through a range of tall,\nnarrow windows, fell upon a row of silent, motionless figures carven in\nstone, knights and ladies in strange armor and dress; each lying upon\nhis or her stony couch with clasped hands, and gazing with fixed,\nmotionless, stony eyeballs up into the gloomy, vaulted arch above them.\nThere lay, in a cold, silent row, all of the Vuelphs who had died since\nthe ancient castle had been built.\n\nIt was the chapel into which Otto had made his way, now long since\nfallen out of use excepting as a burial place of the race.\n\nAt another time he clambered up into the loft under the high peaked\nroof, where lay numberless forgotten things covered with the dim dust\nof years. There a flock of pigeons had made their roost, and flapped\nnoisily out into the sunlight when he pushed open the door from below.\nHere he hunted among the mouldering things of the past until, oh, joy\nof joys! in an ancient oaken chest he found a great lot of worm-eaten\nbooks, that had belonged to some old chaplain of the castle in days gone\nby. They were not precious and beautiful volumes, such as the Father\nAbbot had showed him, but all the same they had their quaint painted\npictures of the blessed saints and angels.\n\nAgain, at another time, going into the court-yard, Otto had found\nthe door of Melchior's tower standing invitingly open, for old Hilda,\nSchwartz Carl's wife, had come down below upon some business or other.\n\nThen upon the shaky wooden steps Otto ran without waiting for a second\nthought, for he had often gazed at those curious buildings hanging so\nfar up in the air, and had wondered what they were like. Round and round\nand up and up Otto climbed, until his head spun. At last he reached\na landing-stage, and gazing over the edge and down, beheld the stone\npavement far, far below, lit by a faint glimmer of light that entered\nthrough the arched doorway. Otto clutched tight hold of the wooden rail,\nhe had no thought that he had climbed so far.\n\nUpon the other side of the landing was a window that pierced the thick\nstone walls of the tower; out of the window he looked, and then drew\nsuddenly back again with a gasp, for it was through the outer wall he\npeered, and down, down below in the dizzy depths he saw the hard\ngray rocks, where the black swine, looking no larger than ants in the\ndistance, fed upon the refuse thrown out over the walls of the castle.\nThere lay the moving tree-tops like a billowy green sea, and the coarse\nthatched roofs of the peasant cottages, round which crawled the little\nchildren like tiny human specks.\n\nThen Otto turned and crept down the stairs, frightened at the height to\nwhich he had climbed.\n\nAt the doorway he met Mother Hilda. \"Bless us,\" she cried, starting back\nand crossing herself, and then, seeing who it was, ducked him a courtesy\nwith as pleasant a smile as her forbidding face, with its little\ndeep-set eyes, was able to put upon itself.\n\nOld Ursela seemed nearer to the boy than anyone else about the castle,\nexcepting it was his father, and it was a newfound delight to Otto to\nsit beside her and listen to her quaint stories, so different from the\nmonkish tales that he had heard and read at the monastery.\n\nBut one day it was a tale of a different sort that she told him, and one\nthat opened his eyes to what he had never dreamed of before.\n\nThe mellow sunlight fell through the window upon old Ursela, as she sat\nin the warmth with her distaff in her hands while Otto lay close to her\nfeet upon a bear skin, silently thinking over the strange story of a\nbrave knight and a fiery dragon that she had just told him. Suddenly\nUrsela broke the silence.\n\n\"Little one,\" said she, \"thou art wondrously like thy own dear mother;\ndidst ever hear how she died?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Otto, \"but tell me, Ursela, how it was.\"\n\n\"Tis strange,\" said the old woman, \"that no one should have told thee\nin all this time.\" And then, in her own fashion she related to him the\nstory of how his father had set forth upon that expedition in spite of\nall that Otto's mother had said, beseeching him to abide at home; how he\nhad been foully wounded, and how the poor lady had died from her fright\nand grief.\n\nOtto listened with eyes that grew wider and wider, though not all with\nwonder; he no longer lay upon the bear skin, but sat up with his hands\nclasped. For a moment or two after the old woman had ended her story, he\nsat staring silently at her. Then he cried out, in a sharp voice, \"And\nis this truth that you tell me, Ursela? and did my father seek to rob\nthe towns people of their goods?\"\n\nOld Ursela laughed. \"Aye,\" said she, \"that he did and many times. Ah!\nme, those day's are all gone now.\" And she fetched a deep sigh. \"Then we\nlived in plenty and had both silks and linens and velvets besides in the\nstore closets and were able to buy good wines and live in plenty upon\nthe best. Now we dress in frieze and live upon what we can get and\nsometimes that is little enough, with nothing better than sour beer to\ndrink. But there is one comfort in it all, and that is that our good\nBaron paid back the score he owed the Trutz-Drachen people not only for\nthat, but for all that they had done from the very first.\"\n\nThereupon she went on to tell Otto how Baron Conrad had fulfilled the\npledge of revenge that he had made Abbot Otto, how he had watched day\nafter day until one time he had caught the Trutz-Drachen folk,\nwith Baron Frederick at their head, in a narrow defile back of the\nKaiserburg; of the fierce fight that was there fought; of how the\nRoderburgs at last fled, leaving Baron Frederick behind them wounded; of\nhow he had kneeled before the Baron Conrad, asking for mercy, and of\nhow Baron Conrad had answered, \"Aye, thou shalt have such mercy as thou\ndeservest,\" and had therewith raised his great two-handed sword and laid\nhis kneeling enemy dead at one blow.\n\nPoor little Otto had never dreamed that such cruelty and wickedness\ncould be. He listened to the old woman's story with gaping horror, and\nwhen the last came and she told him, with a smack of her lips, how his\nfather had killed his enemy with his own hand, he gave a gasping cry and\nsprang to his feet. Just then the door at the other end of the chamber\nwas noisily opened, and Baron Conrad himself strode into the room.\nOtto turned his head, and seeing who it was, gave another cry, loud and\nquavering, and ran to his father and caught him by the hand.\n\n\"Oh, father!\" he cried, \"oh, father! Is it true that thou hast killed a\nman with thy own hand?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said the Baron, grimly, \"it is true enough, and I think me I have\nkilled many more than one. But what of that, Otto? Thou must get out of\nthose foolish notions that the old monks have taught thee. Here in the\nworld it is different from what it is at St. Michaelsburg; here a man\nmust either slay or be slain.\"\n\nBut poor little Otto, with his face hidden in his father's robe, cried\nas though his heart would break. \"Oh, father!\" he said, again and again,\n\"it cannot be--it cannot be that thou who art so kind to me should have\nkilled a man with thine own hands.\" Then: \"I wish that I were back\nin the monastery again; I am afraid out here in the great wide world;\nperhaps somebody may kill me, for I am only a weak little boy and could\nnot save my own life if they chose to take it from me.\"\n\nBaron Conrad looked down upon Otto all this while, drawing his bushy\neyebrows together. Once he reached out his hand as though to stroke the\nboy's hair, but drew it back again.\n\nTurning angrily upon the old woman, \"Ursela,\" said he, \"thou must tell\nthe child no more such stories as these; he knowest not at all of such\nthings as yet. Keep thy tongue busy with the old woman's tales that he\nloves to hear thee tell, and leave it with me to teach him what becometh\na true knight and a Vuelph.\"\n\nThat night the father and son sat together beside the roaring fire in\nthe great ball. \"Tell me, Otto,\" said the Baron, \"dost thou hate me for\nhaving done what Ursela told thee today that I did?\"\n\nOtto looked for a while into his father's face. \"I know not,\" said he at\nlast, in his quaint, quiet voice, \"but methinks that I do not hate thee\nfor it.\"\n\nThe Baron drew his bushy brows together until his eyes twinkled out of\nthe depths beneath them, then of a sudden he broke into a great loud\nlaugh, smiting his horny palm with a smack upon his thigh.\n\n\n\n\nVII. The Red Cock Crows on Drachenhausen.\n\nThere was a new emperor in Germany who had come from a far away Swiss\ncastle; Count Rudolph of Hapsburg, a good, honest man with a good,\nhonest, homely face, but bringing with him a stern sense of justice and\nof right, and a determination to put down the lawlessness of the savage\nGerman barons among whom he had come as Emperor.\n\nOne day two strangers came galloping up the winding path to the gates\nof the Dragon's house. A horn sounded thin and clear, a parley was held\nacross the chasm in the road between the two strangers and the porter\nwho appeared at the little wicket. Then a messenger was sent running to\nthe Baron, who presently came striding across the open court-yard to the\ngateway to parley with the strangers.\n\nThe two bore with them a folded parchment with a great red seal\nhanging from it like a clot of blood; it was a message from the Emperor\ndemanding that the Baron should come to the Imperial Court to answer\ncertain charges that had been brought against him, and to give his bond\nto maintain the peace of the empire.\n\nOne by one those barons who had been carrying on their private wars, or\nhad been despoiling the burgher folk in their traffic from town to\ntown, and against whom complaint had been lodged, were summoned to the\nImperial Court, where they were compelled to promise peace and to swear\nallegiance to the new order of things. All those who came willingly were\nallowed to return home again after giving security for maintaining the\npeace; all those who came not willingly were either brought in chains\nor rooted out of their strongholds with fire and sword, and their roofs\nburned over their heads.\n\nNow it was Baron Conrad's turn to be summoned to the Imperial Court,\nfor complaint had been lodged against him by his old enemy of\nTrutz-Drachen--Baron Henry--the nephew of the old Baron Frederick\nwho had been slain while kneeling in the dust of the road back of the\nKaiserburg.\n\nNo one at Drachenhausen could read but Master Rudolph, the steward,\nwho was sand blind, and little Otto. So the boy read the summons to his\nfather, while the grim Baron sat silent with his chin resting upon his\nclenched fist and his eyebrows drawn together into a thoughtful frown as\nhe gazed into the pale face of his son, who sat by the rude oaken table\nwith the great parchment spread out before him.\n\nShould he answer the summons, or scorn it as he would have done under\nthe old emperors? Baron Conrad knew not which to do; pride said one\nthing and policy another. The Emperor was a man with an iron hand, and\nBaron Conrad knew what had happened to those who had refused to obey the\nimperial commands. So at last he decided that he would go to the court,\ntaking with him a suitable escort to support his dignity.\n\nIt was with nearly a hundred armed men clattering behind him that Baron\nConrad rode away to court to answer the imperial summons. The castle was\nstripped of its fighting men, and only eight remained behind to guard\nthe great stone fortress and the little simple-witted boy.\n\nIt was a sad mistake.\n\nThree days had passed since the Baron had left the castle, and now the\nthird night had come. The moon was hanging midway in the sky, white and\nfull, for it was barely past midnight.\n\nThe high precipitous banks of the rocky road threw a dense black shadow\ninto the gully below, and in that crooked inky line that scarred the\nwhite face of the moonlit rocks a band of some thirty men were creeping\nslowly and stealthily nearer and nearer to Castle Drachenhausen. At the\nhead of them was a tall, slender knight clad in light chain armor, his\nhead covered only by a steel cap or bascinet.\n\nAlong the shadow they crept, with only now and then a faint clink or\njingle of armor to break the stillness, for most of those who followed\nthe armed knight were clad in leathern jerkins; only one or two wearing\neven so much as a steel breast-plate by way of armor.\n\nSo at last they reached the chasm that yawned beneath the roadway, and\nthere they stopped, for they had reached the spot toward which they had\nbeen journeying. It was Baron Henry of Trutz-Drachen who had thus come\nin the silence of the night time to the Dragon's house, and his visit\nboded no good to those within.\n\nThe Baron and two or three of his men talked together in low tones, now\nand then looking up at the sheer wall that towered above them.\n\n\"Yonder is the place, Lord Baron,\" said one of those who stood with him.\n\"I have scanned every foot of the wall at night for a week past. An we\nget not in by that way, we get not in at all. A keen eye, a true aim,\nand a bold man are all that we need, and the business is done.\" Here\nagain all looked upward at the gray wall above them, rising up in the\nsilent night air.\n\nHigh aloft hung the wooden bartizan or watch-tower, clinging to the face\nof the outer wall and looming black against the pale sky above. Three\ngreat beams pierced the wall, and upon them the wooden tower rested. The\nmiddle beam jutted out beyond the rest to the distance of five or six\nfeet, and the end of it was carved into the rude semblance of a dragon's\nhead.\n\n\"So, good,\" said the Baron at last; \"then let us see if thy plan holds,\nand if Hans Schmidt's aim is true enough to earn the three marks that I\nhave promised him. Where is the bag?\"\n\nOne of those who stood near handed the Baron a leathern pouch, the Baron\nopened it and drew out a ball of fine thread, another of twine, a coil\nof stout rope, and a great bundle that looked, until it was unrolled,\nlike a coarse fish-net. It was a rope ladder. While these were being\nmade ready, Hans Schmidt, a thick-set, low-browed, broad-shouldered\narcher, strung his stout bow, and carefully choosing three arrows\nfrom those in his quiver, he stuck them point downward in the earth.\nUnwinding the ball of thread, he laid it loosely in large loops upon the\nground so that it might run easily without hitching, then he tied the\nend of the thread tightly around one of his arrows. He fitted the arrow\nto the bow and drew the feather to his ear. Twang! rang the bowstring,\nand the feathered messenger flew whistling upon its errand to the\nwatch-tower. The very first shaft did the work.\n\n\"Good,\" said Hans Schmidt, the archer, in his heavy voice, \"the three\nmarks are mine, Lord Baron.\"\n\nThe arrow had fallen over and across the jutting beam between the carved\ndragon's head and the bartizan, carrying with it the thread, which now\nhung from above, glimmering white in the moonlight like a cobweb.\n\nThe rest was an easy task enough. First the twine was drawn up to and\nover the beam by the thread, then the rope was drawn up by the twine,\nand last of all the rope ladder by the rope. There it hung like a thin,\nslender black line against the silent gray walls.\n\n\"And now,\" said the Baron, \"who will go first and win fifty marks for\nhis own, and climb the rope ladder to the tower yonder?\" Those around\nhesitated. \"Is there none brave enough to venture?\" said the Baron,\nafter a pause of silence.\n\nA stout, young fellow, of about eighteen years of age, stepped forward\nand flung his flat leathern cap upon the ground. \"I will go, my Lord\nBaron,\" said he.\n\n\"Good,\" said the Baron, \"the fifty marks are thine. And now listen, if\nthou findest no one in the watch-tower, whistle thus; if the watchman\nbe at his post, see that thou makest all safe before thou givest the\nsignal. When all is ready the others will follow thee. And now go and\ngood luck go with thee.\"\n\nThe young fellow spat upon his hands and, seizing the ropes, began\nslowly and carefully to mount the flimsy, shaking ladder. Those below\nheld it as tight as they were able, but nevertheless he swung backward\nand forward and round and round as he climbed steadily upward. Once he\nstopped upon the way, and those below saw him clutch the ladder close\nto him as though dizzied by the height and the motion but he soon began\nagain, up, up, up like some great black spider. Presently he came out\nfrom the black shadow below and into the white moonlight, and then his\nshadow followed him step by step up the gray wall upon his way. At last\nhe reached the jutting beam, and there again he stopped for a moment\nclutching tightly to it. The next he was upon the beam, dragging himself\ntoward the window of the bartizan just above. Slowly raising himself\nupon his narrow foothold he peeped cautiously within. Those watching\nhim from be low saw him slip his hand softly to his side, and then place\nsomething between his teeth. It was his dagger. Reaching up, he clutched\nthe window sill above him and, with a silent spring, seated himself\nupon it. The next moment he disappeared within. A few seconds of silence\nfollowed, then of sudden a sharp gurgling cry broke the stillness. There\nwas another pause of silence, then a faint shrill whistle sounded from\nabove.\n\n\"Who will go next?\" said the Baron. It was Hans Schmidt who stepped\nforward. Another followed the arch up the ladder, and another, and\nanother. Last of all went the Baron Henry himself, and nothing was left\nbut the rope ladder hanging from above, and swaying back and forth in\nthe wind.\n\nThat night Schwartz Carl had been bousing it over a pot of yellow wine\nin the pantry with his old crony, Master Rudolph, the steward; and the\ntwo, chatting and gossiping together, had passed the time away until\nlong after the rest of the castle had been wrapped in sleep. Then,\nperhaps a little unsteady upon his feet, Schwartz Carl betook himself\nhomeward to the Melchior tower.\n\nHe stood for a while in the shadow of the doorway, gazing up into the\npale sky above him at the great, bright, round moon, that hung like a\nbubble above the sharp peaks of the roofs standing black as ink against\nthe sky. But all of a sudden he started up from the post against which\nhe had been leaning, and with head bent to one side, stood listening\nbreathlessly, for he too had heard that smothered cry from the\nwatch-tower. So he stood intently, motionlessly, listening, listening;\nbut all was silent except for the monotonous dripping of water in one of\nthe nooks of the court-yard, and the distant murmur of the river borne\nupon the breath of the night air. \"Mayhap I was mistaken,\" muttered\nSchwartz Carl to himself.\n\nBut the next moment the silence was broken again by a faint, shrill\nwhistle; what did it mean?\n\nBack of the heavy oaken door of the tower was Schwartz Carl's cross-bow,\nthe portable windlass with which the bowstring was drawn back, and a\npouch of bolts. Schwartz Carl reached back into the darkness, fumbling\nin the gloom until his fingers met the weapon. Setting his foot in the\niron stirrup at the end of the stock, he wound the stout bow-string\ninto the notch of the trigger, and carefully fitted the heavy,\nmurderous-looking bolt into the groove.\n\nMinute after minute passed, and Schwartz Carl, holding his arbelast in\nhis hand, stood silently waiting and watching in the sharp-cut, black\nshadow of the doorway, motionless as a stone statue. Minute after minute\npassed. Suddenly there was a movement in the shadow of the arch of the\ngreat gateway across the court-yard, and the next moment a leathern-clad\nfigure crept noiselessly out upon the moonlit pavement, and stood there\nlistening, his head bent to one side. Schwartz Carl knew very well\nthat it was no one belonging to the castle, and, from the nature of his\naction, that he was upon no good errand.\n\nHe did not stop to challenge the suspicious stranger. The taking of\nanother's life was thought too small a matter for much thought or care\nin those days. Schwartz Carl would have shot a man for a much smaller\nreason than the suspicious actions of this fellow. The leather-clad\nfigure stood a fine target in the moonlight for a cross-bow bolt.\nSchwartz Carl slowly raised the weapon to his shoulder and took a long\nand steady aim. Just then the stranger put his fingers to his lips and\ngave a low, shrill whistle. It was the last whistle that he was to give\nupon this earth. There was a sharp, jarring twang of the bow-string, the\nhiss of the flying bolt, and the dull thud as it struck its mark. The\nman gave a shrill, quavering cry, and went staggering back, and then\nfell all of a heap against the wall behind him. As though in answer to\nthe cry, half a dozen men rushed tumultuously out from the shadow of\nthe gateway whence the stranger had just come, and then stood in the\ncourt-yard, looking uncertainly this way and that, not knowing from what\nquarter the stroke had come that had laid their comrade low.\n\nBut Schwartz Carl did not give them time to discover that; there was no\nchance to string his cumbersome weapon again; down he flung it upon the\nground. \"To arms!\" he roared in a voice of thunder, and then clapped to\nthe door of Melchior's tower and shot the great iron bolts with a clang\nand rattle.\n\nThe next instant the Trutz-Drachen men were thundering at the door, but\nSchwartz Carl was already far up the winding steps.\n\nBut now the others came pouring out from the gateway. \"To the house,\"\nroared Baron Henry.\n\nThen suddenly a clashing, clanging uproar crashed out upon the night.\nDong! Dong! It was the great alarm bell from Melchior's tower--Schwartz\nCarl was at his post.\n\nLittle Baron Otto lay sleeping upon the great rough bed in his room,\ndreaming of the White Cross on the hill and of brother John. By and by\nhe heard the convent bell ringing, and knew that there must be visitors\nat the gate, for loud voices sounded through his dream. Presently he\nknew that he was coming awake, but though the sunny monastery garden\ngrew dimmer and dimmer to his sleeping sight, the clanging of the bell\nand the sound of shouts grew louder and louder. Then he opened his eyes.\nFlaming red lights from torches, carried hither and thither by people\nin the court-yard outside, flashed and ran along the wall of his\nroom. Hoarse shouts and cries filled the air, and suddenly the shrill,\npiercing shriek of a woman rang from wall to wall; and through the\nnoises the great bell from far above upon Melchior's tower clashed and\nclanged its harsh, resonant alarm.\n\nOtto sprang from his bed and looked out of the window and down upon\nthe court-yard below. \"Dear God! what dreadful thing hath happened?\" he\ncried and clasped his hands together.\n\nA cloud of smoke was pouring out from the windows of the building across\nthe court-yard, whence a dull ruddy glow flashed and flickered. Strange\nmen were running here and there with flaming torches, and the now\ncontinuous shrieking of women pierced the air.\n\nJust beneath the window lay the figure of a man half naked and face\ndownward upon the stones. Then suddenly Otto cried out in fear and\nhorror, for, as he looked with dazed and bewildered eyes down into the\nlurid court-yard beneath, a savage man, in a shining breast-plate and\nsteel cap, came dragging the dark, silent figure of a woman across the\nstones; but whether she was dead or in a swoon, Otto could not tell.\n\nAnd every moment the pulsing of that dull red glare from the windows of\nthe building across the court-yard shone more brightly, and the glare\nfrom other flaming buildings, which Otto could not see from his window,\nturned the black, starry night into a lurid day.\n\nJust then the door of the room was burst open, and in rushed poor old\nUrsela, crazy with her terror. She flung herself down upon the floor and\ncaught Otto around the knees. \"Save me!\" she cried, \"save me!\" as though\nthe poor, pale child could be of any help to her at such a time. In the\npassageway without shone the light of torches, and the sound of loud\nfootsteps came nearer and nearer.\n\nAnd still through all the din sounded continually the clash and clang\nand clamor of the great alarm bell.\n\nThe red light flashed into the room, and in the doorway stood a tall,\nthin figure clad from head to foot in glittering chain armor. From\nbehind this fierce knight, with his dark, narrow, cruel face, its\ndeep-set eyes glistening in the light of the torches, crowded six or\neight savage, low-browed, brutal men, who stared into the room and\nat the white-faced boy as he stood by the window with the old woman\nclinging to his knees and praying to him for help.\n\n\"We have cracked the nut and here is the kernel,\" said one of them who\nstood behind the rest, and thereupon a roar of brutal laughter went up.\nBut the cruel face of the armed knight never relaxed into a smile;\nhe strode into the room and laid his iron hand heavily upon the boy's\nshoulder. \"Art thou the young Baron Otto?\" said he, in a harsh voice.\n\n\"Aye,\" said the lad; \"but do not kill me.\"\n\nThe knight did not answer him. \"Fetch the cord hither,\" said he, \"and\ndrag the old witch away.\"\n\nIt took two of them to loosen poor old Ursela's crazy clutch from about\nher young master. Then amid roars of laughter they dragged her away,\nscreaming and scratching and striking with her fists.\n\nThey drew back Otto's arms behind his back and wrapped them round and\nround with a bowstring. Then they pushed and hustled and thrust him\nforth from the room and along the passageway, now bright with the flames\nthat roared and crackled without. Down the steep stairway they drove\nhim, where thrice he stumbled and fell amid roars of laughter. At last\nthey were out into the open air of the court-yard. Here was a terrible\nsight, but Otto saw nothing of it; his blue eyes were gazing far away,\nand his lips moved softly with the prayer that the good monks of St.\nMichaelsburg had taught him, for he thought that they meant to slay him.\n\nAll around the court-yard the flames roared and snapped and crackled.\nFour or five figures lay scattered here and there, silent in all the\nglare and uproar. The heat was so intense that they were soon forced\nback into the shelter of the great gateway, where the women captives,\nunder the guard of three or four of the Trutz-Drachen men, were crowded\ntogether in dumb, bewildered terror. Only one man was to be seen among\nthe captives, poor, old, half blind Master Rudolph, the steward,\nwho crouched tremblingly among the women. They had set the blaze to\nMelchior's tower, and now, below, it was a seething furnace. Above, the\nsmoke rolled in black clouds from the windows, but still the alarm bell\nsounded through all the blaze and smoke. Higher and higher the flames\nrose; a trickle of fire ran along the frame buildings hanging aloft in\nthe air. A clear flame burst out at the peak of the roof, but still the\nbell rang forth its clamorous clangor. Presently those who watched below\nsaw the cluster of buildings bend and sink and sway; there was a crash\nand roar, a cloud of sparks flew up as though to the very heavens\nthemselves, and the bell of Melchior's tower was stilled forever. A\ngreat shout arose from the watching, upturned faces.\n\n\"Forward!\" cried Baron Henry, and out from the gateway they swept and\nacross the drawbridge, leaving Drachenhausen behind them a flaming\nfurnace blazing against the gray of the early dawning.\n\n\n\n\nVIII. In the House of the Dragon Scorner.\n\nTall, narrow, gloomy room; no furniture but a rude bench a bare stone\nfloor, cold stone walls and a gloomy ceiling of arched stone over head;\na long, narrow slit of a window high above in the wall, through the iron\nbars of which Otto could see a small patch of blue sky and now and then\na darting swallow, for an instant seen, the next instant gone. Such\nwas the little baron's prison in Trutz-Drachen. Fastened to a bolt\nand hanging against the walls, hung a pair of heavy chains with gaping\nfetters at the ends. They were thick with rust, and the red stain of\nthe rust streaked the wall below where they hung like a smear of blood.\nLittle Otto shuddered as he looked at them; can those be meant for me,\nhe thought.\n\nNothing was to be seen but that one patch of blue sky far up in the\nwall. No sound from without was to be heard in that gloomy cell of\nstone, for the window pierced the outer wall, and the earth and its\nnoises lay far below.\n\nSuddenly a door crashed without, and the footsteps of men were heard\ncoming along the corridor. They stopped in front of Otto's cell; he\nheard the jingle of keys, and then a loud rattle of one thrust into\nthe lock of the heavy oaken door. The rusty bolt was shot back with a\nscreech, the door opened, and there stood Baron Henry, no longer in his\narmor, but clad in a long black robe that reached nearly to his feet,\na broad leather belt was girdled about his waist, and from it dangled a\nshort, heavy hunting sword.\n\nAnother man was with the Baron, a heavy-faced fellow clad in a leathern\njerkin over which was drawn a short coat of linked mail.\n\nThe two stood for a moment looking into the room, and Otto, his pale\nface glimmering in the gloom, sat upon the edge of the heavy wooden\nbench or bed, looking back at them out of his great blue eyes. Then the\ntwo entered and closed the door behind them.\n\n\"Dost thou know why thou art here?\" said the Baron, in his deep, harsh\nvoice.\n\n\"Nay,\" said Otto, \"I know not.\"\n\n\"So?\" said the Baron. \"Then I will tell thee. Three years ago the good\nBaron Frederick, my uncle, kneeled in the dust and besought mercy at thy\nfather's hands; the mercy he received was the coward blow that slew him.\nThou knowest the story?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said Otto, tremblingly, \"I know it.\"\n\n\"Then dost thou not know why I am here?\" said the Baron.\n\n\"Nay, dear Lord Baron, I know not,\" said poor little Otto, and began to\nweep.\n\nThe Baron stood for a moment or two looking gloomily upon him, as the\nlittle boy sat there with the tears running down his white face.\n\n\"I will tell thee,\" said he, at last; \"I swore an oath that the red cock\nshould crow on Drachenhausen, and I have given it to the dames. I swore\nan oath that no Vuelph that ever left my hands should be able to strike\nsuch a blow as thy father gave to Baron Frederick, and now I will fulfil\nthat too. Catch the boy, Casper, and hold him.\"\n\nAs the man in the mail shirt stepped toward little Otto, the boy leaped\nup from where he sat and caught the Baron about the knees. \"Oh! dear\nLord Baron,\" he cried, \"do not harm me; I am only a little child, I have\nnever done harm to thee; do not harm me.\"\n\n\"Take him away,\" said the Baron, harshly.\n\nThe fellow stooped, and loosening Otto's hold, in spite of his struggles\nand cries, carried him to the bench, against which he held him, whilst\nthe Baron stood above him.\n\nBaron Henry and the other came forth from the cell, carefully closing\nthe wooden door behind them. At the end of the corridor the Baron\nturned, \"Let the leech be sent to the boy,\" said he. And then he turned\nand walked away.\n\nOtto lay upon the hard couch in his cell, covered with a shaggy bear\nskin. His face was paler and thinner than ever, and dark rings encircled\nhis blue eyes. He was looking toward the door, for there was a noise of\nsomeone fumbling with the lock without.\n\nSince that dreadful day when Baron Henry had come to his cell, only two\nsouls had visited Otto. One was the fellow who had come with the Baron\nthat time; his name, Otto found, was Casper. He brought the boy his rude\nmeals of bread and meat and water. The other visitor was the leech or\ndoctor, a thin, weasand little man, with a kindly, wrinkled face and a\ngossiping tongue, who, besides binding wounds, bleeding, and leeching,\nand administering his simple remedies to those who were taken sick in\nthe castle, acted as the Baron's barber.\n\nThe Baron had left the key in the lock of the door, so that these two\nmight enter when they chose, but Otto knew that it was neither the one\nnor the other whom he now heard at the door, working uncertainly with\nthe key, striving to turn it in the rusty, cumbersome lock. At last the\nbolts grated back, there was a pause, and then the door opened a little\nway, and Otto thought that he could see someone peeping in from without.\nBy and by the door opened further, there was another pause, and then\na slender, elfish-looking little girl, with straight black hair and\nshining black eyes, crept noiselessly into the room.\n\nShe stood close by the door with her finger in her mouth, staring at\nthe boy where he lay upon his couch, and Otto upon his part lay, full of\nwonder, gazing back upon the little elfin creature.\n\nShe, seeing that he made no sign or motion, stepped a little nearer, and\nthen, after a moment's pause, a little nearer still, until, at last, she\nstood within a few feet of where he lay.\n\n\"Art thou the Baron Otto?\" said she.\n\n\"Yes,\" answered Otto.\n\n\"Prut!\" said she, \"and is that so! Why, I thought that thou wert a great\ntall fellow at least, and here thou art a little boy no older than Carl\nMax, the gooseherd.\" Then, after a little pause--\"My name is Pauline,\nand my father is the Baron. I heard him tell my mother all about thee,\nand so I wanted to come here and see thee myself: Art thou sick?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Otto, \"I am sick.\"\n\n\"And did my father hurt thee?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said Otto, and his eyes filled with tears, until one sparkling\ndrop trickled slowly down his white face.\n\nLittle Pauline stood looking seriously at him for a while. \"I am sorry\nfor thee, Otto,\" said she, at last. And then, at her childish pity, he\nbegan crying in earnest.\n\nThis was only the first visit of many from the little maid, for after\nthat she often came to Otto's prison, who began to look for her coming\nfrom day to day as the one bright spot in the darkness and the gloom.\n\nSitting upon the edge of his bed and gazing into his face with wide open\neyes, she would listen to him by the hour, as he told her of his life in\nthat far away monastery home; of poor, simple brother John's wonderful\nvisions, of the good Abbot's books with their beautiful pictures, and of\nall the monkish tales and stories of knights and dragons and heroes and\nemperors of ancient Rome, which brother Emmanuel had taught him to read\nin the crabbed monkish Latin in which they were written.\n\nOne day the little maid sat for a long while silent after he had ended\nspeaking. At last she drew a deep breath. \"And are all these things that\nthou tellest me about the priests in their castle really true?\" said\nshe.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Otto, \"all are true.\"\n\n\"And do they never go out to fight other priests?\"\n\n\"No,\" said Otto, \"they know nothing of fighting.\"\n\n\"So!\" said she. And then fell silent in the thought of the wonder of\nit all, and that there should be men in the world that knew nothing of\nviolence and bloodshed; for in all the eight years of her life she had\nscarcely been outside of the walls of Castle Trutz-Drachen.\n\nAt another time it was of Otto's mother that they were speaking.\n\n\"And didst thou never see her, Otto?\" said the little girl.\n\n\"Aye,\" said Otto, \"I see her sometimes in my dreams, and her face always\nshines so bright that I know she is an angel; for brother John has often\nseen the dear angels, and he tells me that their faces always shine in\nthat way. I saw her the night thy father hurt me so, for I could not\nsleep and my head felt as though it would break asunder. Then she\ncame and leaned over me and kissed my forehead, and after that I fell\nasleep.\"\n\n\"But where did she come from, Otto?\" said the little girl.\n\n\"From paradise, I think,\" said Otto, with that patient seriousness that\nhe had caught from the monks, and that sat so quaintly upon him.\n\n\"So!\" said little Pauline; and then, after a pause, \"That is why thy\nmother kissed thee when thy head ached--because she is an angel. When\nI was sick my mother bade Gretchen carry me to a far part of the house,\nbecause I cried and so troubled her. Did thy mother ever strike thee,\nOtto?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Otto.\n\n\"Mine hath often struck me,\" said Pauline.\n\nOne day little Pauline came bustling into Otto's cell, her head full of\nthe news which she carried. \"My father says that thy father is out\nin the woods somewhere yonder, back of the castle, for Fritz, the\nswineherd, told my father that last night he had seen a fire in the\nwoods, and that he had crept up to it without anyone knowing. There he\nhad seen the Baron Conrad and six of his men, and that they were eating\none of the swine that they had killed and roasted. Maybe,\" said she,\nseating herself upon the edge of Otto's couch; \"maybe my father will\nkill thy father, and they will bring him here and let him lie upon a\nblack bed with bright candles burning around him, as they did my uncle\nFrederick when he was killed.\"\n\n\"God forbid!\" said Otto, and then lay for a while with his hands\nclasped. \"Dost thou love me, Pauline?\" said he, after a while.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Pauline, \"for thou art a good child, though my father says\nthat thy wits are cracked.\"\n\n\"Mayhap they are,\" said Otto, simply, \"for I have often been told so\nbefore. But thou wouldst not see me die, Pauline; wouldst thou?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Pauline, \"I would not see thee die, for then thou couldst\ntell me no more stories; for they told me that uncle Frederick could not\nspeak because he was dead.\"\n\n\"Then listen, Pauline,\" said Otto; \"if I go not away from here I shall\nsurely die. Every day I grow more sick and the leech cannot cure me.\"\nHere he broke down and, turning his face upon the couch, began crying,\nwhile little Pauline sat looking seriously at him.\n\n\"Why dost thou cry, Otto?\" said she, after a while.\n\n\"Because,\" said he, \"I am so sick, and I want my father to come and take\nme away from here.\"\n\n\"But why dost thou want to go away?\" said Pauline. \"If thy father takes\nthee away, thou canst not tell me any more stories.\"\n\n\"Yes, I can,\" said Otto, \"for when I grow to be a man I will come\nagain and marry thee, and when thou art my wife I can tell thee all the\nstories that I know. Dear Pauline, canst thou not tell my father where I\nam, that he may come here and take me away before I die?\"\n\n\"Mayhap I could do so,\" said Pauline, after a little while, \"for\nsometimes I go with Casper Max to see his mother, who nursed me when I\nwas a baby. She is the wife of Fritz, the swineherd, and she will make\nhim tell thy father; for she will do whatever I ask of her, and Fritz\nwill do whatever she bids him do.\"\n\n\"And for my sake, wilt thou tell him, Pauline?\" said Otto.\n\n\"But see, Otto,\" said the little girl, \"if I tell him, wilt thou promise\nto come indeed and marry me when thou art grown a man?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Otto, very seriously, \"I will promise.\"\n\n\"Then I will tell thy father where thou art,\" said she.\n\n\"But thou wilt do it without the Baron Henry knowing, wilt thou not,\nPauline?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said she, \"for if my father and my mother knew that I did such\na thing, they would strike me, mayhap send me to my bed alone in the\ndark.\"\n\n\n\n\nIX. How One-eyed Hans came to Trutz-Drachen.\n\nFritz, the swineherd, sat eating his late supper of porridge out of a\ngreat, coarse, wooden bowl; wife Katherine sat at the other end of the\ntable, and the half-naked little children played upon the earthen floor.\nA shaggy dog lay curled up in front of the fire, and a grunting pig\nscratched against a leg of the rude table close beside where the woman\nsat.\n\n\"Yes, yes,\" said Katherine, speaking of the matter of which they had\nalready been talking. \"It is all very true that the Drachenhausens are a\nbad lot, and I for one am of no mind to say no to that; all the same it\nis a sad thing that a simple-witted little child like the young Baron\nshould be so treated as the boy has been; and now that our Lord Baron\nhas served him so that he, at least, will never be able to do us 'harm,\nI for one say that he should not be left there to die alone in that\nblack cell.\"\n\nFritz, the swineherd, gave a grunt at this without raising his eyes from\nthe bowl.\n\n\"Yes, good,\" said Katherine, \"I know what thou meanest, Fritz, and that\nit is none of my business to be thrusting my finger into the Baron's\ndish. But to hear the way that dear little child spoke when she was here\nthis morn--it would have moved a heart of stone to hear her tell of all\nhis pretty talk. Thou wilt try to let the red-beard know that that poor\nboy, his son, is sick to death in the black cell; wilt thou not, Fritz?\"\n\nThe swineherd dropped his wooden spoon into the bowl with a clatter.\n\"Potstausand!\" he cried; \"art thou gone out of thy head to let thy wits\nrun upon such things as this of which thou talkest to me? If it should\ncome to our Lord Baron's ears he would cut the tongue from out thy head\nand my head from off my shoulders for it. Dost thou think I am going to\nmeddle in such a matter as this? Listen! these proud Baron folk, with\ntheir masterful ways, drive our sort hither and thither; they beat us,\nthey drive us, they kill us as they choose. Our lives are not as much\nto them as one of my black swine. Why should I trouble my head if they\nchoose to lop and trim one another? The fewer there are of them the\nbetter for us, say I. We poor folk have a hard enough life of it without\nthrusting our heads into the noose to help them out of their troubles.\nWhat thinkest thou would happen to us if Baron Henry should hear of our\nbetraying his affairs to the Red-beard?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Katherine, \"thou hast naught to do in the matter but to tell\nthe Red-beard in what part of the castle the little Baron lies.\"\n\n\"And what good would that do?\" said Fritz, the swineherd.\n\n\"I know not,\" said Katherine, \"but I have promised the little one that\nthou wouldst find the Baron Conrad and tell him that much.\"\n\n\"Thou hast promised a mare's egg,\" said her husband, angrily. \"How shall\nI find the Baron Conrad to bear a message to him, when our Baron has\nbeen looking for him in vain for two days past?\"\n\n\"Thou has found him once and thou mayst find him again,\" said Katherine,\n\"for it is not likely that he will keep far away from here whilst his\nboy is in such sore need of help.\"\n\n\"I will have nothing to do with it!\" said Fritz, and he got up from the\nwooden block whereon he was sitting and stumped out of the house. But,\nthen, Katherine had heard him talk in that way before, and knew, in\nspite of his saying \"no,\" that, sooner or later, he would do as she\nwished.\n\nTwo days later a very stout little one-eyed man, clad in a leathern\njerkin and wearing a round leathern cap upon his head, came toiling up\nthe path to the postern door of Trutz-Drachen, his back bowed under the\nburthen of a great peddler's pack. It was our old friend the one-eyed\nHans, though even his brother would hardly have known him in his present\nguise, for, besides having turned peddler, he had grown of a sudden\nsurprisingly fat.\n\nRap-tap-tap! He knocked at the door with a knotted end of the crooked\nthorned staff upon which he leaned. He waited for a while and then\nknocked again--rap-tap-tap!\n\nPresently, with a click, a little square wicket that pierced the door\nwas opened, and a woman's face peered out through the iron bars.\n\nThe one-eyed Hans whipped off his leathern cap.\n\n\"Good day, pretty one,\" said he, \"and hast thou any need of glass beads,\nribbons, combs, or trinkets? Here I am come all the way from Gruenstadt,\nwith a pack full of such gay things as thou never laid eyes on before.\nHere be rings and bracelets and necklaces that might be of pure silver\nand set with diamonds and rubies, for anything that thy dear one could\ntell if he saw thee decked in them. And all are so cheap that thou hast\nonly to say, 'I want them,' and they are thine.\"\n\nThe frightened face at the window looked from right to left and from\nleft to right. \"Hush,\" said the girl, and laid her finger upon her lips.\n\"There! thou hadst best get away from here, poor soul, as fast as thy\nlegs can carry thee, for if the Lord Baron should find thee here talking\nsecretly at the postern door, he would loose the wolf-hounds upon thee.\"\n\n\"Prut,\" said one-eyed Hans, with a grin, \"the Baron is too big a fly to\nsee such a little gnat as I; but wolf-hounds or no wolf-hounds, I\ncan never go hence without showing thee the pretty things that I have\nbrought from the town, even though my stay be at the danger of my own\nhide.\"\n\nHe flung the pack from off his shoulders as he spoke and fell to\nunstrapping it, while the round face of the lass (her eyes big with\ncuriosity) peered down at him through the grated iron bars.\n\nHans held up a necklace of blue and white beads that glistened like\njewels in the sun, and from them hung a gorgeous filigree cross. \"Didst\nthou ever see a sweeter thing than this?\" said he; \"and look, here is a\ncomb that even the silversmith would swear was pure silver all the way\nthrough.\" Then, in a soft, wheedling voice, \"Canst thou not let me in,\nmy little bird? Sure there are other lasses besides thyself who would\nlike to trade with a poor peddler who has travelled all the way from\nGruenstadt just to please the pretty ones of Trutz-Drachen.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said the lass, in a frightened voice, \"I cannot let thee in; I\nknow not what the Baron would do to me, even now, if he knew that I was\nhere talking to a stranger at the postern;\" and she made as if she would\nclap to the little window in his face; but the one-eyed Hans thrust his\nstaff betwixt the bars and so kept the shutter open.\n\n\"Nay, nay,\" said he, eagerly, \"do not go away from me too soon. Look,\ndear one; seest thou this necklace?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said she, looking hungrily at it.\n\n\"Then listen; if thou wilt but let me into the castle, so that I may\nstrike a trade, I will give it to thee for thine own without thy paying\na barley corn for it.\"\n\nThe girl looked and hesitated, and then looked again; the temptation was\ntoo great. There was a noise of softly drawn bolts and bars, the door\nwas hesitatingly opened a little way, and, in a twinkling, the one-eyed\nHans had slipped inside the castle, pack and all.\n\n\"The necklace,\" said the girl, in a frightened whisper.\n\nHans thrust it into her hand. \"It's thine,\" said he, \"and now wilt thou\nnot help me to a trade?\"\n\n\"I will tell my sister that thou art here,\" said she, and away she ran\nfrom the little stone hallway, carefully bolting and locking the further\ndoor behind her.\n\nThe door that the girl had locked was the only one that connected the\npostern hail with the castle.\n\nThe one-eyed Hans stood looking after her. \"Thou fool!\" he muttered to\nhimself, \"to lock the door behind thee. What shall I do next, I should\nlike to know? Here am I just as badly off as I was when I stood outside\nthe walls. Thou hussy! If thou hadst but let me into the castle for only\ntwo little minutes, I would have found somewhere to have hidden myself\nwhile thy back was turned. But what shall I do now?\" He rested his pack\nupon the floor and stood looking about him.\n\nBuilt in the stone wall opposite to him, was a high, narrow fireplace\nwithout carving of any sort. As Hans' one eye wandered around the bare\nstone space, his glance fell at last upon it, and there it rested. For\na while he stood looking intently at it, presently he began rubbing his\nhand over his bristling chin in a thoughtful, meditative manner. Finally\nhe drew a deep breath, and giving himself a shake as though to arouse\nhimself from his thoughts, and after listening a moment or two to\nmake sure that no one was nigh, he walked softly to the fireplace, and\nstooping, peered up the chimney. Above him yawned a black cavernous\ndepth, inky with the soot of years. Hans straightened himself, and\ntilting his leathern cap to one side, began scratching his bullet-head;\nat last he drew a long breath. \"Yes, good,\" he muttered to himself; \"he\nwho jumps into the river must e'en swim the best he can. It is a vile,\ndirty place to thrust one's self; but I am in for it now, and must make\nthe best of a lame horse.\"\n\nHe settled the cap more firmly upon his head, spat upon his hands, and\nonce more stooping in the fireplace, gave a leap, and up the chimney he\nwent with a rattle of loose mortar and a black trickle of soot.\n\nBy and by footsteps sounded outside the door. There was a pause; a\nhurried whispering of women's voices; the twitter of a nervous laugh,\nand then the door was pushed softly opens and the girl to whom the\none-eyed Hans had given the necklace of blue and white beads with the\nfiligree cross hanging from it, peeped uncertainly into the room. Behind\nher broad, heavy face were three others, equally homely and stolid; for\na while all four stood there, looking blankly into the room and around\nit. Nothing was there but the peddler's knapsack lying in the middle of\nthe floor-the man was gone. The light of expectancy slowly faded Out of\nthe girl's face, and in its place succeeded first bewilderment and then\ndull alarm. \"But, dear heaven,\" she said, \"where then has the peddler\nman gone?\"\n\nA moment or two of silence followed her speech. \"Perhaps,\" said one of\nthe others, in a voice hushed with awe, \"perhaps it was the evil one\nhimself to whom thou didst open the door.\"\n\nAgain there was a hushed and breathless pause; it was the lass who had\nlet Hans in at the postern, who next spoke.\n\n\"Yes,\" said she, in a voice trembling with fright at what she had done,\n\"yes, it must have been the evil one, for now I remember he had but one\neye.\" The four girls crossed themselves, and their eyes grew big and\nround with the fright.\n\nSuddenly a shower of mortar came rattling down the chimney. \"Ach!\" cried\nthe four, as with one voice. Bang! the door was clapped to and away they\nscurried like a flock of frightened rabbits.\n\nWhen Jacob, the watchman, came that way an hour later, upon his evening\nround of the castle, he found a peddler's knapsack lying in the middle\nof the floor. He turned it over with his pike-staff and saw that it was\nfull of beads and trinkets and ribbons.\n\n\"How came this here?\" said he. And then, without waiting for the answer\nwhich he did not expect, he flung it over his shoulder and marched away\nwith it.\n\n\n\n\nX. How Hans Brought Terror to the Kitchen.\n\nHans found himself in a pretty pickle in the chimney, for the soot got\ninto his one eye and set it to watering, and into his nose and set him\nto sneezing, and into his mouth and his ears and his hair. But still\nhe struggled on, up and up; \"for every chimney has a top,\" said Hans\nto himself \"and I am sure to climb out somewhere or other.\" Suddenly he\ncame to a place where another chimney joined the one he was climbing,\nand here he stopped to consider the matter at his leisure. \"See now,\" he\nmuttered, \"if I still go upward I may come out at the top of some tall\nchimney-stack with no way of getting down outside. Now, below here\nthere must be a fire-place somewhere, for a chimney does not start from\nnothing at all; yes, good! we will go down a while and see what we make\nof that.\"\n\nIt was a crooked, zigzag road that he had to travel, and rough and hard\ninto the bargain. His one eye tingled and smarted, and his knees and\nelbows were rubbed to the quick; nevertheless One-eyed Hans had been in\nworse trouble than this in his life.\n\nDown he went and down he went, further than he had climbed upward\nbefore. \"Sure, I must be near some place or other,\" he thought.\n\nAs though in instant answer to his thoughts, he heard the sudden sound\nof a voice so close beneath him that he stopped short in his downward\nclimbing and stood as still as a mouse, with his heart in his mouth.\nA few inches more and he would have been discovered;--what would have\nhappened then would have been no hard matter to foretell.\n\nHans braced his back against one side of the chimney, his feet against\nthe other and then, leaning forward, looked down between his knees. The\ngray light of the coming evening glimmered in a wide stone fireplace\njust below him. Within the fireplace two people were moving about upon\nthe broad hearth, a great, fat woman and a shock-headed boy. The woman\nheld a spit with two newly trussed fowls upon it, so that One-eyed Hans\nknew that she must be the cook.\n\n\"Thou ugly toad,\" said the woman to the boy, \"did I not bid thee make a\nfire an hour ago? and now, here there is not so much as a spark to roast\nthe fowls withall, and they to be basted for the lord Baron's supper.\nWhere hast thou been for all this time?\"\n\n\"No matter,\" said the boy, sullenly, as he laid the fagots ready for the\nlighting; \"no matter, I was not running after Long Jacob, the bowman, to\ntry to catch him for a sweetheart, as thou hast been doing.\"\n\nThe reply was instant and ready. The cook raised her hand; \"smack!\" she\nstruck and a roar from the scullion followed.\n\n\"Yes, good,\" thought Hans, as he looked down upon them; \"I am glad that\nthe boy's ear was not on my head.\"\n\n\"Now give me no more of thy talk,\" said the woman, \"but do the work\nthat thou hast been bidden.\" Then--\"How came all this black soot here, I\nshould like to know?\"\n\n\"How should I know?\" snuffled the scullion, \"mayhap thou wouldst blame\nthat on me also?\"\n\n\"That is my doing,\" whispered Hans to himself; \"but if they light the\nfire, what then becomes of me?\"\n\n\"See now,\" said the cook; \"I go to make the cakes ready; if I come back\nand find that thou hast not built the fire, I will warm thy other ear\nfor thee.\"\n\n\"So,\" thought Hans; \"then will be my time to come down the chimney, for\nthere will be but one of them.\"\n\nThe next moment he heard the door close and knew that the cook had gone\nto make the cakes ready as she said. And as he looked down he saw that\nthe boy was bending over the bundle of fagots, blowing the spark that\nhe had brought in upon the punk into a flame. The dry fagots began to\ncrackle and blaze. \"Now is my time,\" said Hans to himself. Bracing his\nelbows against each side of the chimney, he straightened his legs so\nthat he might fall clear His motions loosened little shower of soot that\nfell rattling upon the fagots that were now beginning to blaze brightly,\nwhereupon the boy raised his face and looked up. Hans loosened his hold\nupon the chimney; crash! he fell, lighting upon his feet in the midst\nof the burning fagots. The scullion boy tumbled backward upon the floor,\nwhere he lay upon the broad of his back with a face as white as\ndough and eyes and mouth agape, staring speechlessly at the frightful\ninky-black figure standing in the midst of the flames and smoke. Then\nhis scattered wits came back to him. \"It is the evil one,\" he roared.\nAnd thereupon, turning upon his side, he half rolled, half scrambled to\nthe door. Then out he leaped and, banging it to behind him, flew down\nthe passageway, yelling with fright and never daring once to look behind\nhim.\n\nAll the time One-eyed Hans was brushing away the sparks that clung to\nhis clothes. He was as black as ink from head to foot with the soot from\nthe chimney.\n\n\"So far all is good,\" he muttered to himself, \"but if I go wandering\nabout in my sooty shoes I will leave black tracks to follow me, so there\nis nothing to do but e'en to go barefoot.\"\n\nHe stooped and drawing the pointed soft leather shoes from his feet, he\nthrew them upon the now blazing fagots, where they writhed and twisted\nand wrinkled, and at last burst into a flame. Meanwhile Hans lost no\ntime; he must find a hiding-place, and quickly, if he would yet hope\nto escape. A great bread trough stood in the corner of the kitchen--a\nhopper-shaped chest with a flat lid. It was the best hiding place that\nthe room afforded. Without further thought Hans ran to it, snatching up\nfrom the table as he passed a loaf of black bread and a bottle half full\nof stale wine, for he had had nothing to eat since that morning. Into\nthe great bread trough he climbed, and drawing the lid down upon him,\ncurled himself up as snugly as a mouse in its nest.\n\nFor a while the kitchen lay in silence, but at last the sound of voices\nwas heard at the door, whispering together in low tones. Suddenly the\ndoor was flung open and a tall, lean, lantern-jawed fellow, clad in\nrough frieze, strode into the room and stood there glaring with half\nfrightened boldness around about him; three or four women and the\ntrembling scullion crowded together in a frightened group behind him.\n\nThe man was Long Jacob, the bowman; but, after all, his boldness was\nall wasted, for not a thread or a hair was to be seen, but only the\ncrackling fire throwing its cheerful ruddy glow upon the wall of the\nroom, now rapidly darkening in the falling gray of the twilight without.\n\nThe fat cook's fright began rapidly to turn into anger.\n\n\"Thou imp,\" she cried, \"it is one of thy tricks,\" and she made a dive\nfor the scullion, who ducked around the skirts of one of the other women\nand so escaped for the time; but Long Jacob wrinkled up his nose and\nsniffed. \"Nay,\" said he, \"me thinks that there lieth some truth in the\ntale that the boy hath told, for here is a vile smell of burned horn\nthat the black one bath left behind him.\"\n\nIt was the smell from the soft leather shoes that Hans had burned.\n\nThe silence of night had fallen over the Castle of Trutz-Drachen; not\na sound was heard but the squeaking of mice scurring behind the\nwainscoting, the dull dripping of moisture from the eaves, or the\nsighing of the night wind around the gables and through the naked\nwindows of the castle.\n\nThe lid of the great dough trough was softly raised, and a face, black\nwith soot, peeped cautiously out from under it. Then little by little\narose a figure as black as the face; and One-eyed Hans stepped out upon\nthe floor, stretching and rubbing himself.\n\n\"Methinks I must have slept,\" he muttered. \"Hui, I am as stiff as a new\nleather doublet, and now, what next is to become of me? I hope my luck\nmay yet stick to me, in spite of this foul black soot!\"\n\nAlong the middle of the front of the great hall of the castle, ran a\nlong stone gallery, opening at one end upon the court-yard by a high\nflight of stone steps. A man-at-arms in breast-plate and steel cap, and\nbearing a long pike, paced up and down the length of this gallery, now\nand then stopping, leaning over the edge, and gazing up into the starry\nsky above; then, with a long drawn yawn, lazily turning back to the\nmonotonous watch again.\n\nA dark figure crept out from an arched doorway at the lower part of the\nlong straight building, and some little distance below the end gallery,\nbut the sentry saw nothing of it, for his back was turned. As silently\nand as stealthily as a cat the figure crawled along by the dark shadowy\nwall, now and then stopping, and then again creeping slowly forward\ntoward the gallery where the man-at-arms moved monotonously up and down.\nIt was One-eyed Hans in his bare feet.\n\nInch by inch, foot by foot--the black figure crawled along in the angle\nof the wall; inch by inch and foot by foot, but ever nearer and nearer\nto the long straight row of stone steps that led to the covered gallery.\nAt last it crouched at the lowest step of the flight. Just then the\nsentinel upon watch came to the very end of the gallery and stood there\nleaning upon his spear. Had he looked down below he could not have\nfailed to have seen One-eyed Hans lying there motionlessly; but he was\ngazing far away over the steep black roofs beyond, and never saw the\nunsuspected presence. Minute after minute passed, and the one stood\nthere looking out into the night and the other lay crouching by the\nwall; then with a weary sigh the sentry turned and began slowly pacing\nback again toward the farther end of the gallery.\n\nInstantly the motionless figure below arose and glided noiselessly and\nswiftly up the flight of steps.\n\nTwo rude stone pillars flanked either side of the end of the gallery.\nLike a shadow the black figure slipped behind one of these, flattening\nitself up against the wall, where it stood straight and motionless as\nthe shadows around it.\n\nDown the long gallery came the watchman, his sword clinking loudly in\nthe silence as he walked, tramp, tramp, tramp! clink, clank, jingle.\n\nWithin three feet of the motionless figure behind the pillar he turned,\nand began retracing his monotonous steps. Instantly the other left the\nshadow of the post and crept rapidly and stealthily after him. One step,\ntwo steps the sentinel took; for a moment the black figure behind him\nseemed to crouch and draw together, then like a flash it leaped forward\nupon its victim.\n\nA shadowy cloth fell upon the man's face, and in an instant he was flung\nback and down with a muffled crash upon the stones. Then followed a\nfierce and silent struggle in the darkness, but strong and sturdy as the\nman was, he was no match for the almost superhuman strength of One-eyed\nHans. The cloth which he had flung over his head was tied tightly and\nsecurely. Then the man was forced upon his face and, in spite of his\nfierce struggles, his arms were bound around and around with strong fine\ncord; next his feet were bound in the same way, and the task was done.\nThen Hans stood upon his feet, and wiped the sweat from his swarthy\nforehead. \"Listen, brother,\" he whispered, and as he spoke he stooped\nand pressed something cold and hard against the neck of the other.\n\"Dost thou know the feel of this? It is a broad dagger, and if thou\ndost contrive to loose that gag from thy mouth and makest any outcry, it\nshall be sheathed in thy weasand.\"\n\nSo saying, he thrust the knife back again into its sheath, then stooping\nand picking up the other, he flung him across his shoulder like a sack,\nand running down the steps as lightly as though his load was nothing at\nall, he carried his burden to the arched doorway whence he had come a\nlittle while before. There, having first stripped his prisoner of\nall his weapons, Hans sat the man up in the angle of the wall. \"So,\nbrother;\" said he, \"now we can talk with more ease than we could up\nyonder. I will tell thee frankly why I am here; it is to find where the\nyoung Baron Otto of Drachenhausen is kept. If thou canst tell me,\nwell and good; if not, I must e'en cut thy weasand and find me one who\nknoweth more. Now, canst thou tell me what I would learn, brother?\"\n\nThe other nodded dimly in the darkness.\n\n\"That is good,\" said Hans, \"then I will loose thy gag until thou hast\ntold me; only bear in mind what I said concerning my dagger.\"\n\nThereupon, he unbound his prisoner, and the fellow slowly rose to his\nfeet. He shook himself and looked all about him in a heavy, bewildered\nfashion, as though he had just awakened from a dream.\n\nHis right hand slid furtively down to his side, but the dagger-sheath\nwas empty.\n\n\"Come, brother!\" said Hans, impatiently, \"time is passing, and once lost\ncan never be found again. Show me the way to the young Baron Otto or--.\"\nAnd he whetted the shining blade of his dagger on his horny palm.\n\nThe fellow needed no further bidding; turning, he led the way, and\ntogether they were swallowed up in the yawning shadows, and again the\nhush of night-time lay upon the Castle of Trutz-Drachen.\n\n\n\n\nXI. How Otto was Saved.\n\nLittle Otto was lying upon the hard couch in his cell, tossing in\nrestless and feverish sleep; suddenly a heavy hand was laid upon him and\na voice whispered in his ear, \"Baron, Baron Otto, waken, rouse yourself;\nI am come to help you. I am One-eyed Hans.\"\n\nOtto was awake in an instant and raised himself upon his elbow in the\ndarkness. \"One-eyed Hans,\" he breathed, \"One-eyed Hans; who is One-eyed\nHans?\"\n\n\"True,\" said the other, \"thou dost not know me. I am thy father's\ntrusted servant, and am the only one excepting his own blood and kin\nwho has clung to him in this hour of trouble. Yes, all are gone but me\nalone, and so I have come to help thee away from this vile place.\"\n\n\"Oh, dear, good Hans! if only thou canst!\" cried Otto; \"if only thou\ncanst take me away from this wicked place. Alas, dear Hans! I am weary\nand sick to death.\" And poor little Otto began to weep silently in the\ndarkness.\n\n\"Aye, aye,\" said Hans, gruffly, \"it is no place for a little child\nto be. Canst thou climb, my little master? canst thou climb a knotted\nrope?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Otto, \"I can never climb again! See, Hans;\" and he flung\nback the covers from off him.\n\n\"I cannot see,\" said Hans, \"it is too dark.\"\n\n\"Then feel, dear Hans,\" said Otto.\n\nHans bent over the poor little white figure glimmering palely in the\ndarkness. Suddenly he drew back with a snarl like an angry wolf. \"Oh!\nthe black, bloody wretches!\" he cried, hoarsely; \"and have they done\nthat to thee, a little child?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Otto, \"the Baron Henry did it.\" And then again he began to\ncry.\n\n\"There, there,\" said Hans, roughly, \"weep no more. Thou shalt get away\nfrom here even if thou canst not climb; I myself will help thee. Thy\nfather is already waiting below the window here, and thou shalt soon be\nwith him. There, there, cry no more.\"\n\nWhile he was speaking Hans had stripped off his peddler's leathern\njacket, and there, around his body, was wrapped coil after coil of stout\nhempen rope tied in knots at short distances. He began unwinding the\nrope, and when he had done he was as thin as ever he had been before.\nNext he drew from the pouch that hung at his side a ball of fine cord\nand a leaden weight pierced by a hole, both of which he had brought with\nhim for the use to which he now put them. He tied the lead to the end of\nthe cord, then whirling the weight above his head, he flung it up toward\nthe window high above. Twice the piece of lead fell back again into the\nroom; the third time it flew out between the iron bars carrying the cord\nwith it. Hans held the ball in his hand and paid out the string as the\nweight carried it downward toward the ground beneath. Suddenly the cord\nstopped running. Hans jerked it and shook it, but it moved no farther.\n\"Pray heaven, little child,\" said he, \"that it hath reached the ground,\nfor if it hath not we are certainly lost.\"\n\n\"I do pray,\" said Otto, and he bowed his head.\n\nThen, as though in answer to his prayer, there came a twitch upon the\ncord.\n\n\"See,\" said Hans, \"they have heard thee up above in heaven; it was thy\nfather who did that.\" Quickly and deftly he tied the cord to the end of\nthe knotted rope; then he gave an answering jerk upon the string. The\nnext moment the rope was drawn up to the window and down the outside by\nthose below. Otto lay watching the rope as it crawled up to the window\nand out into the night like a great snake, while One-eyed Hans held the\nother end lest it should be drawn too far. At last it stopped. \"Good,\"\nmuttered Hans, as though to himself. \"The rope is long enough.\"\n\nHe waited for a few minutes and then, drawing upon the rope and finding\nthat it was held from below, he spat upon his hands and began slowly\nclimbing up to the window above. Winding his arm around the iron bars of\nthe grating that guarded it, he thrust his hand into the pouch that hung\nby his side, and drawing forth a file, fell to work cutting through all\nthat now lay between Otto and liberty.\n\nIt was slow, slow work, and it seemed to Otto as though Hans would never\nfinish his task, as lying upon his hard couch he watched that figure,\nblack against the sky, bending over its work. Now and then the file\nscreeched against the hard iron, and then Hans would cease for a moment,\nbut only to begin again as industriously as ever. Three or four times he\ntried the effects of his work, but still the iron held. At last he\nset his shoulder against it, and as Otto looked he saw the iron bend.\nSuddenly there was a sharp crack, and a piece of the grating went flying\nout into the night.\n\nHans tied the rope securely about the stump of the stout iron bar that\nyet remained, and then slid down again into the room below.\n\n\"My little lord,\" said he, \"dost thou think that if I carry thee, thou\nwilt be able and strong enough to cling to my neck?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said Otto, \"methinks I will be able to do that.\"\n\n\"Then come,\" said Hans.\n\nHe stooped as he spoke, and gently lifting Otto from his rude and rugged\nbed he drew his broad leathern belt around them both, buckling it firmly\nand securely. \"It does not hurt thee?\" said he.\n\n\"Not much,\" whispered Otto faintly.\n\nThen Hans spat upon his hands, and began slowly climbing the rope.\n\nThey reached the edge of the window and there they rested for a moment,\nand Otto renewed his hold around the neck of the faithful Hans.\n\n\"And now art thou ready?\" said Hans\n\n\"Aye,\" said Otto.\n\n\"Then courage,\" said Hans, and he turned and swung his leg over the\nabyss below.\n\nThe next moment they were hanging in mid-air.\n\nOtto looked down and gave a gasp. \"The mother of heaven bless us,\" he\nwhispered, and then closed his eyes, faint and dizzy at the sight of\nthat sheer depth beneath. Hans said nothing, but shutting his teeth\nand wrapping his legs around the rope, he began slowly descending, hand\nunder hand. Down, down, down he went, until to Otto, with his eyes shut\nand his head leaning upon Hans' shoulder, it seemed as though it could\nnever end. Down, down, down. Suddenly he felt Hans draw a deep breath;\nthere was a slight jar, and Otto opened his eyes; Hans was standing upon\nthe ground.\n\nA figure wrapped in a dark cloak arose from the shadow of the wall, and\ntook Otto in its arms. It was Baron Conrad.\n\n\"My son--my little child!\" he cried, in a choked, trembling voice, and\nthat was all. And Otto pressed his cheek against his father's and began\ncrying.\n\nSuddenly the Baron gave a sharp, fierce cry. \"Dear Heaven!\" he cried;\n\"what have they done to thee?\" But poor little Otto could not answer.\n\n\"Oh!\" gasped the Baron, in a strangled voice, \"my little child! my\nlittle child!\" And therewith he broke down, and his whole body shook\nwith fierce, dry sobs; for men in those days did not seek to hide their\ngrief as they do now, but were fierce and strong in the expression of\nthat as of all else.\n\n\"Never mind, dear father,\" whispered Otto; \"it did not hurt me so very\nmuch,\" and he pressed his lips against his father's cheek.\n\nLittle Otto had but one hand.\n\n\n\n\nXII. A Ride For Life.\n\nBut not yet was Otto safe, and all danger past and gone by. Suddenly, as\nthey stood there, the harsh clangor of a bell broke the silence of\nthe starry night above their heads, and as they raised their faces and\nlooked up, they saw lights flashing from window to window. Presently\ncame the sound of a hoarse voice shouting something that, from the\ndistance, they could not understand.\n\nOne-eyed Hans smote his hand upon his thigh. Look said he, \"here is\nwhat comes of having a soft heart in one's bosom. I overcame and bound a\nwatchman up yonder, and forced him to tell me where our young Baron lay.\nIt was on my mind to run my knife into him after he had told me every\nthing, but then, bethinking how the young Baron hated the thought of\nbloodshed, I said to myself, 'No, Hans, I will spare the villain's\nlife.' See now what comes of being merciful; here, by hook or by crook,\nthe fellow has loosed himself from his bonds, and brings the whole\ncastle about our ears like a nest of wasps.\"\n\n\"We must fly,\" said the Baron; \"for nothing else in the world is\nleft me, now that all have deserted me in this black time of trouble,\nexcepting these six faithful ones.\"\n\nHis voice was bitter, bitter, as he spoke; then stooping, he raised Otto\nin his arms, and bearing him gently, began rapidly descending the rocky\nslope to the level road that ran along the edge of the hill beneath.\nClose behind him followed the rest; Hans still grimed with soot and in\nhis bare feet. A little distance from the road and under the shade of\nthe forest trees, seven horses stood waiting. The Baron mounted upon\nhis great black charger, seating little Otto upon the saddle in front of\nhim. \"Forward!\" he cried, and away they clattered and out upon the road.\nThen--\"To St. Michaelsburg,\" said Baron Conrad, in his deep voice, and\nthe horses' heads were turned to the westward, and away they galloped\nthrough the black shadows of the forest, leaving Trutz-Drachen behind\nthem.\n\nBut still the sound of the alarm bell rang through the beating of the\nhorses' hoofs, and as Hans looked over his shoulder, he saw the light\nof torches flashing hither and thither along the outer walls in front of\nthe great barbican.\n\nIn Castle Trutz-Drachen all was confusion and uproar: flashing torches\nlit up the dull gray walls; horses neighed and stamped, and men shouted\nand called to one another in the bustle of making ready. Presently Baron\nHenry came striding along the corridor clad in light armor, which he had\nhastily donned when roused from his sleep by the news that his prisoner\nhad escaped. Below in the courtyard his horse was standing, and without\nwaiting for assistance, he swung himself into the saddle. Then away they\nall rode and down the steep path, armor ringing, swords clanking, and\niron-shod hoofs striking sparks of fire from the hard stones. At their\nhead rode Baron Henry; his triangular shield hung over his shoulder, and\nin his hand he bore a long, heavy, steel-pointed lance with a pennant\nflickering darkly from the end.\n\nAt the high-road at the base of the slope they paused, for they were at\na loss to know which direction the fugitives had taken; a half a score\nof the retainers leaped from their horses, and began hurrying about\nhither and thither, and up and down, like hounds searching for the lost\nscent, and all the time Baron Henry sat still as a rock in the midst of\nthe confusion.\n\nSuddenly a shout was raised from the forest just beyond the road; they\nhad come upon the place where the horses had been tied. It was an easy\nmatter to trace the way that Baron Conrad and his followers had taken\nthence back to the high-road, but there again they were at a loss. The\nroad ran straight as an arrow eastward and westward--had the fugitives\ntaken their way to the east or to the west?\n\nBaron Henry called his head-man, Nicholas Stein, to him, and the\ntwo spoke together for a while in an undertone. At last the Baron's\nlieutenant reined his horse back, and choosing first one and then\nanother, divided the company into two parties. The baron placed himself\nat the head of one band and Nicholas Stein at the head of the other.\n\"Forward!\" he cried, and away clattered the two companies of horsemen in\nopposite directions.\n\nIt was toward the westward that Baron Henry of Trutz-Drachen rode at the\nhead of his men.\n\nThe early springtide sun shot its rays of misty, yellow light across the\nrolling tops of the forest trees where the little birds were singing in\nthe glory of the May morning. But Baron Henry and his followers thought\nnothing of the beauty of the peaceful day, and heard nothing of the\nmultitudinous sound of the singing birds as, with a confused sound of\ngalloping hoofs, they swept along the highway, leaving behind them a\nslow-curling, low-trailing cloud of dust.\n\nAs the sun rose more full and warm, the misty wreaths began to dissolve,\nuntil at last they parted and rolled asunder like a white curtain and\nthere, before the pursuing horsemen, lay the crest of the mountain\ntoward which they were riding, and up which the road wound steeply.\n\n\"Yonder they are,\" cried a sudden voice behind Baron Henry of\nTrutz-Drachen, and at the cry all looked upward.\n\nFar away upon the mountain-side curled a cloud of dust, from the midst\nof which came the star-like flash of burnished armor gleaming in the\nsun.\n\nBaron Henry said never a word, but his lips curled in a grim smile.\n\nAnd as the mist wreaths parted One-eyed Hans looked behind and down\ninto the leafy valley beneath. \"Yonder they come,\" said he. \"They have\nfollowed sharply to gain so much upon us, even though our horses are\nwearied with all the travelling we have done hither and yon these five\ndays past. How far is it, Lord Baron, from here to Michaelsburg?\"\n\n\"About ten leagues,\" said the Baron, in a gloomy voice.\n\nHans puckered his mouth as though to whistle, but the Baron saw nothing\nof it, for he was gazing straight before him with a set and stony face.\nThose who followed him looked at one another, and the same thought was\nin the mind of each--how long would it be before those who pursued would\nclose the distance between them?\n\nWhen that happened it meant death to one and all.\n\nThey reached the crest of the hill, and down they dashed upon the other\nside; for there the road was smooth and level as it sloped away into the\nvalley, but it was in dead silence that they rode. Now and then those\nwho followed the Baron looked back over their shoulders. They had gained\na mile upon their pursuers when the helmeted heads rose above the crest\nof the mountain, but what was the gain of a mile with a smooth road\nbetween them, and fresh horses to weary ones?\n\nOn they rode and on they rode. The sun rose higher and higher, and\nhotter and hotter. There was no time to rest and water their panting\nhorses. Only once, when they crossed a shallow stretch of water, the\npoor animals bent their heads and caught a few gulps from the cool\nstream, and the One-eyed Hans washed a part of the soot from his hands\nand face. On and on they rode; never once did the Baron Conrad move his\nhead or alter that steadfast look as, gazing straight before him, he\nrode steadily forward along the endless stretch of road, with poor\nlittle Otto's yellow head and white face resting against his steel-clad\nshoulder--and St. Michaelsburg still eight leagues away.\n\nA little rise of ground lay before them, and as they climbed it, all,\nexcepting the baron, turned their heads as with one accord and looked\nbehind them. Then more than one heart failed, for through the leaves\nof the trees below, they caught the glint of armor of those who\nfollowed--not more than a mile away. The next moment they swept over the\ncrest, and there, below them, lay the broad shining river, and nearer a\ntributary stream spanned by a rude, narrow, three-arched, stone bridge\nwhere the road crossed the deep, slow-moving water.\n\nDown the slope plodded the weary horses, and so to the bridge-head.\n\n\"Halt,\" cried the baron suddenly, and drew rein.\n\nThe others stood bewildered. What did he mean to do? He turned to Hans\nand his blue eyes shone like steel.\n\n\"Hans,\" said he, in his deep voice, \"thou hast served me long and truly;\nwilt thou for this one last time do my bidding?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said Hans, briefly.\n\n\"Swear it,\" said the Baron.\n\n\"I swear it,\" said Hans, and he drew the sign of the cross upon his\nheart.\n\n\"That is good,\" said the Baron, grimly. \"Then take thou this child,\nand with the others ride with all the speed that thou canst to St.\nMichaelsburg. Give the child into the charge of the Abbot Otto. Tell\nhim how that I have sworn fealty to the Emperor, and what I have gained\nthereby--my castle burnt, my people slain, and this poor, simple child,\nmy only son, mutilated by my enemy.\n\n\"And thou, my Lord Baron?\" said Hans.\n\n\"I will stay here,\" said the Baron, quietly, \"and keep back those who\nfollow as long as God will give me grace so to do.\"\n\nA murmur of remonstrance rose among the faithful few who were with\nhim, two of whom were near of kin. But Conrad of Drachenhausen turned\nfiercely upon them.\n\n\"How now,\" said he, \"have I fallen so low in my troubles that even ye\ndare to raise your voices against me? By the good Heaven, I will begin\nmy work here by slaying the first man who dares to raise word against\nmy bidding.\" Then he turned from them. \"Here, Hans,\" said he, \"take the\nboy; and remember, knave, what thou hast sworn.\"\n\nHe pressed Otto close to his breast in one last embrace. \"My little\nchild,\" he murmured, \"try not to hate thy father when thou thinkest of\nhim hereafter, even though he be hard and bloody as thou knowest.\"\n\nBut with his suffering and weakness, little Otto knew nothing of what\nwas passing; it was only as in a faint flickering dream that he lived in\nwhat was done around him.\n\n\"Farewell, Otto,\" said the Baron, but Otto's lips only moved faintly in\nanswer. His father kissed him upon either cheek. \"Come, Hans,\" said\nhe, hastily, \"take him hence;\" and he loosed Otto's arms from about his\nneck.\n\nHans took Otto upon the saddle in front of him.\n\n\"Oh! my dear Lord Baron,\" said he, and then stopped with a gulp, and\nturned his grotesquely twitching face aside.\n\n\"Go,\" said the Baron, harshly, \"there is no time to lose in woman's\ntears.\"\n\n\"Farewell, Conrad! farewell, Conrad!\" said his two kinsmen, and coming\nforward they kissed him upon the cheek then they turned and rode away\nafter Hans, and Baron Conrad was left alone to face his mortal foe.\n\n\n\n\nXIII. How Baron Conrad Held the Bridge.\n\nAs the last of his followers swept around the curving road and was lost\nto sight, Baron Conrad gave himself a shake, as though to drive away the\nthoughts that lay upon him. Then he rode slowly forward to the middle of\nthe bridge, where he wheeled his horse so as to face his coming enemies.\nHe lowered the vizor of his helmet and bolted it to its place, and then\nsaw that sword and dagger were loose in the scabbard and easy to draw\nwhen the need for drawing should arise.\n\n\nDown the steep path from the hill above swept the pursuing horsemen.\nDown the steep path to the bridge-head and there drew rein; for in the\nmiddle of the narrow way sat the motionless, steel-clad figure upon the\ngreat war-horse, with wide, red, panting nostrils, and body streaked\nwith sweat and flecked with patches of foam.\n\nOne side of the roadway of the bridge was guarded by a low stone wall;\nthe other side was naked and open and bare to the deep, slow-moving\nwater beneath. It was a dangerous place to attack a desperate man clad\nin armor of proof.\n\n\"Forward!\" cried Baron Henry, but not a soul stirred in answer, and\nstill the iron-clad figure sat motionless and erect upon the panting\nhorse.\n\n\"How,\" cried the Baron Henry, \"are ye afraid of one man? Then follow\nme!\" and he spurred forward to the bridge-head. But still no one moved\nin answer, and the Lord of Trutz-Drachen reined back his horse again.\nHe wheeled his horse and glared round upon the stolid faces of his\nfollowers, until his eyes seemed fairly to blaze with passion beneath\nthe bars of his vizor.\n\nBaron Conrad gave a roar of laughter. \"How now,\" he cried; \"are ye all\nafraid of one man? Is there none among ye that dares come forward and\nmeet me? I know thee, Baron Henry thou art not afraid to cut off the\nhand of a little child. Hast thou not now the courage to face the\nfather?\"\n\nBaron Henry gnashed his teeth with rage as he glared around upon the\nfaces of his men-at-arms. Suddenly his eye lit upon one of them. \"Ha!\nCarl Spigler,\" he cried, \"thou hast thy cross-bow with thee;--shoot me\ndown yonder dog! Nay,\" he said, \"thou canst do him no harm under his\narmor; shoot the horse upon which he sits.\"\n\nBaron Conrad heard the speech. \"Oh! thou coward villain!\" he cried,\n\"stay; do not shoot the good horse. I will dismount and fight ye upon\nfoot.\" Thereupon, armed as he was, he leaped clashing from his horse and\nturning the animal's head, gave it a slap upon the flank. The good horse\nfirst trotted and then walked to the further end of the bridge, where it\nstopped and began cropping at the grass that grew beside the road.\n\n\"Now then!\" cried Baron Henry, fiercely, \"now then, ye cannot fear him,\nvillains! Down with him! forward!\"\n\nSlowly the troopers spurred their horses forward upon the bridge and\ntoward that one figure that, grasping tightly the great two-handed\nsword, stood there alone guarding the passage.\n\nThen Baron Conrad whirled the great blade above his head, until it\ncaught the sunlight and flashed again. He did not wait for the attack,\nbut when the first of the advancing horsemen had come within a few feet\nof him, he leaped with a shout upon them. The fellow thrust at him with\nhis lance, and the Baron went staggering a few feet back, but instantly\nhe recovered himself and again leaped forward. The great sword flashed\nin the air, whistling; it fell, and the nearest man dropped his lance,\nclattering, and with a loud, inarticulate cry, grasped the mane of his\nhorse with both hands. Again the blade whistled in the air, and this\ntime it was stained with red. Again it fell, and with another shrill cry\nthe man toppled headlong beneath the horse's feet. The next instant they\nwere upon him, each striving to strike at the one figure, to ride him\ndown, or to thrust him down with their lances. There was no room now to\nswing the long blade, but holding the hilt in both hands, Baron Conrad\nthrust with it as though it were a lance, stabbing at horse or man, it\nmattered not. Crowded upon the narrow roadway of the bridge, those who\nattacked had not only to guard themselves against the dreadful strokes\nof that terrible sword, but to keep their wounded horses (rearing and\nmad with fright) from toppling bodily over with them into the water\nbeneath.\n\nPresently the cry was raised, \"Back! back!\" And those nearest the Baron\nbegan reining in their horses. \"Forward!\" roared Baron Henry, from the\nmidst of the crowd; but in spite of his command, and even the blows that\nhe gave, those behind were borne back by those in front, struggling and\nshouting, and the bridge was cleared again excepting for three figures\nthat lay motionless upon the roadway, and that one who, with the\nbrightness of his armor dimmed and stained, leaned panting against the\nwall of the bridge.\n\nThe Baron Henry raged like a madman. Gnashing his teeth together, he\nrode back a little way; then turning and couching his lance, he suddenly\nclapped spurs to his horse, and the next instant came thundering down\nupon his solitary enemy.\n\nBaron Conrad whirled his sword in the air, as he saw the other coming\nlike a thunderbolt upon him; he leaped aside, and the lance passed close\nto him. As it passed he struck, and the iron point flew from the shaft\nof the spear at the blow, and fell clattering upon the stone roadway of\nthe bridge.\n\nBaron Henry drew in his horse until it rested upon its haunches, then\nslowly reined it backward down the bridge, still facing his foe,\nand still holding the wooden stump of the lance in his hand. At the\nbridge-head he flung it from him.\n\n\"Another lance!\" he cried, hoarsely. One was silently reached to him\nand he took it, his hand trembling with rage. Again he rode to a little\ndistance and wheeled his horse; then, driving his steel spurs into its\nquivering side, he came again thundering down upon the other. Once more\nthe terrible sword whirled in the air and fell, but this time the lance\nwas snatched to one side and the blow fell harmlessly. The next instant,\nand with a twitch of the bridle-rein, the horse struck full and fair\nagainst the man.\n\nConrad of Drachenhausen was whirled backward and downward, and the cruel\niron hoofs crashed over his prostrate body, as horse and man passed with\na rush beyond him and to the bridge-head beyond. A shout went up from\nthose who stood watching. The next moment the prostrate figure rose and\nstaggered blindly to the side of the bridge, and stood leaning against\nthe stone wall.\n\nAt the further end of the bridge Baron Henry had wheeled his horse. Once\nagain he couched lance, and again he drove down upon his bruised and\nwounded enemy. This time the lance struck full and fair, and those who\nwatched saw the steel point pierce the iron breast-plate and then snap\nshort, leaving the barbed point within the wound.\n\nBaron Conrad sunk to his knees and the Roderburg, looming upon his horse\nabove him, unsheathed his sword to finish the work he had begun.\n\nThen those who stood looking on saw a wondrous thing happen: the wounded\nman rose suddenly to his feet, and before his enemy could strike he\nleaped, with a great and bitter cry of agony and despair, upon him as he\nsat in the saddle above.\n\nHenry of Trutz-Drachen grasped at his horse's mane, but the attack\nwas so fierce, so sudden, and so unexpected that before he could save\nhimself he was dragged to one side and fell crashing in his armor upon\nthe stone roadway of the bridge.\n\n\"The dragon! the dragon!\" roared Baron Conrad, in a voice of thunder,\nand with the energy of despair he dragged his prostrate foe toward the\nopen side of the bridge.\n\n\"Forward!\" cried the chief of the Trutz-Drachen men, and down they rode\nupon the struggling knights to the rescue of their master in this new\ndanger. But they were too late.\n\nThere was a pause at the edge of the bridge, for Baron Henry had gained\nhis feet and, stunned and bewildered as he was by the suddenness of his\nfall, he was now struggling fiercely, desperately. For a moment they\nstood swaying backward and forward, clasped in one another's arms, the\nblood from the wounded man's breast staining the armor of both. The\nmoment passed and then, with a shower of stones and mortar from beneath\ntheir iron-shod heels, they toppled and fell; there was a thunderous\nsplash in the water below, and as the men-at-arms came hurrying up and\npeered with awe-struck faces over the parapet of the bridge, they saw\nthe whirling eddies sweep down with the current of the stream, a few\nbubbles rise to the surface of the water, and then--nothing; for the\nsmooth river flowed onward as silently as ever.\n\nPresently a loud voice burst through the awed hush that followed. It\ncame from William of Roderburg, Baron Henry's kinsman.\n\n\"Forward!\" he cried. A murmur of voices from the others was all the\nanswer that he received. \"Forward!\" cried the young man again, \"the boy\nand those with him are not so far away but that we might yet catch up\nwith them.\"\n\nThen one of the men spoke up in answer--a man with a seamed,\nweather-beaten face and crisp grizzled hair. \"Nay,\" said he, \"our Lord\nBaron is gone, and this is no quarrel of ours; here be four of us that\nare wounded and three I misdoubt that are dead; why should we follow\nfurther only to suffer more blows for no gain?\" A growl of assent rose\nfrom those that stood around, and William of Roderburg saw that nothing\nmore was to be done by the Trutz-Dragons that day.\n\n\n\n\nXIV. How Otto Saw the Great Emperor.\n\nThrough weakness and sickness and faintness, Otto had lain in a half\nswoon through all that long journey under the hot May sun. It was as in\na dreadful nightmare that he had heard on and on and on that monotonous\nthrobbing of galloping hoofs upon the ground; had felt that last kiss\nthat his father had given him upon his cheek. Then the onward ride\nagain, until all faded away into a dull mist and he knew no more. When\nnext he woke it was with the pungent smell of burned vinegar in his\nnostrils and with the feeling of a cool napkin bathing his brow. He\nopened his eyes and then closed them again, thinking he must have been\nin a dream, for he lay in his old room at the peaceful monastery of the\nWhite Cross on the hill; the good Father Abbot sat near by, gazing upon\nhis face with the old absent student look, Brother John sat in the deep\nwindow seat also gazing at him, and Brother Theodore, the leech of the\nmonastery, sat beside him bathing his head. Beside these old familiar\nfaces were the faces of those who had been with him in that long flight;\nthe One-eyed Hans, old Master Nicholas his kinsman, and the others.\nSo he closed his eyes, thinking that maybe it was all a dream. But the\nsharp throbbing of the poor stump at his wrist soon taught him that he\nwas still awake.\n\n\"Am I then really home in St. Michaelsburg again?\" he murmured, without\nunclosing his eyes.\n\nBrother Theodore began snuffling through his nose; there was a pause.\n\"Yes,\" said the old Abbot at last, and his gentle voice trembled as\nhe spoke; \"yes, my dear little child, thou art back again in thine own\nhome; thou hast not been long out in the great world, but truly thou\nhast had a sharp and bitter trial of it.\"\n\n\"But they will not take me away again, will they?\" said Otto quickly,\nunclosing his blue eyes.\n\n\"Nay,\" said the Abbot, gently; \"not until thou art healed in body and\nart ready and willing to go.\"\n\nThree months and more had passed, and Otto was well again; and now,\nescorted by One-eyed Hans and those faithful few who had clung to the\nBaron Conrad through his last few bitter days, he was riding into the\nquaint old town of Nurnburg; for the Emperor Rudolph was there at that\ntime, waiting for King Ottocar of Bohemia to come thither and answer\nthe imperial summons before the Council, and Otto was travelling to the\ncourt.\n\nAs they rode in through the gates of the town, Otto looked up at the\nhigh-peaked houses with their overhanging gables, the like of which he\nhad never seen before, and he stared with his round blue eyes at seeing\nthem so crowded together along the length of the street. But most of\nall he wondered at the number of people that passed hither and thither,\njostling each other in their hurry, and at the tradesmen's booths\nopening upon the street with the wonderful wares hanging within; armor\nat the smiths, glittering ornaments at the goldsmiths, and rich fabrics\nof silks and satins at the mercers. He had never seen anything so rich\nand grand in all of his life, for little Otto had never been in a town\nbefore.\n\n\"Oh! look,\" he cried, \"at that wonderful lady; see, holy father! sure\nthe Emperor's wife can be no finer than that lady.\"\n\nThe Abbot smiled. \"Nay, Otto,\" said he, \"that is but a burgher's wife or\ndaughter; the ladies at the Emperor's court are far grander than such as\nshe.\"\n\n\"So!\" said Otto, and then fell silent with wonder.\n\nAnd now, at last the great moment had come when little Otto with his own\neyes was to behold the mighty Emperor who ruled over all the powerful\nkingdoms of Germany and Austria, and Italy and Bohemia, and other\nkingdoms and principalities and states. His heart beat so that he could\nhardly speak as, for a moment, the good Abbot who held him by the hand\nstopped outside of the arrased doorway to whisper some last instructions\ninto his ear. Then they entered the apartment.\n\nIt was a long, stone-paved room. The floor was covered with rich rugs\nand the walls were hung with woven tapestry wherein were depicted\nknights and ladies in leafy gardens and kings and warriors at battle.\nA long row of high glazed windows extended along the length of the\napartment, flooding it with the mellow light of the autumn day. At\nthe further end of the room, far away, and standing by a great carved\nchimney place wherein smouldered the remains of a fire, stood a group of\nnobles in gorgeous dress of velvet and silks, and with glittering golden\nchains hung about their necks.\n\nOne figure stood alone in front of the great yawning fireplace. His\nhands were clasped behind him, and his look bent thoughtfully upon the\nfloor. He was dressed only in a simple gray robe without ornament or\nadornment, a plain leathern belt girded his waist, and from it hung a\nsword with a bone hilt encased in a brown leathern scabbard. A noble\nstag-hound lay close behind him, curled up upon the floor, basking in\nthe grateful warmth of the fire.\n\nAs the Father Abbot and Otto drew near he raised his head and looked\nat them. It was a plain, homely face that Otto saw, with a wrinkled\nforehead and a long mouth drawn down at the corners. It was the face of\na good, honest burgher burdened with the cares of a prosperous trade.\n\"Who can he be,\" thought Otto, \"and why does the poor man stand there\namong all the great nobles?\"\n\nBut the Abbot walked straight up to him and kneeled upon the floor,\nand little Otto, full of wonder, did the same. It was the great Emperor\nRudolph.\n\n\"Who have we here,\" said the Emperor, and he bent his brow upon the\nAbbot and the boy.\n\n\"Sire,\" said Abbot Otto, \"we have humbly besought you by petition, in\nthe name of your late vassal, Baron Conrad of Vuelph of Drachenhausen,\nfor justice to this his son, the Baron Otto, whom, sire, as you may see,\nhath been cruelly mutilated at the hands of Baron Henry of Roderburg of\nTrutz-Drachen. He hath moreover been despoiled of his lands, his castle\nburnt, and his household made prisoner.\"\n\nThe Emperor frowned until the shaggy eyebrows nearly hid the keen gray\ntwinkle of the eyes beneath. \"Yes,\" said he, \"I do remember me of\nthat petition, and have given it consideration both in private and in\ncouncil.\" He turned to the group of listening nobles. \"Look,\" said he,\n\"at this little child marred by the inhumanity and the cruelty of those\nrobber villains. By heavens! I will put down their lawless rapine, if I\nhave to give every castle from the north to the south to the flames and\nto the sword.\" Then turning to Otto again, \"Poor little child,\" said he,\n\"thy wrongs shall be righted, and so far as they are able, those cruel\nRoderburgs shall pay thee penny for penny, and grain for grain, for what\nthou hast lost; and until such indemnity hath been paid the family of\nthe man who wrought this deed shall be held as surety.\"\n\nLittle Otto looked up in the kind, rugged face above him. \"Nay, Lord\nEmperor,\" said he, in his quaint, quiet way, \"there are but two in the\nfamily--the mother and the daughter--and I have promised to marry the\nlittle girl when she and I are old enough; so, if you please, I would\nnot have harm happen to her.\"\n\nThe Emperor continued to look down at the kneeling boy, and at last he\ngave a short, dry laugh. \"So be it,\" said he, \"thy plan is not without\nits wisdom. Mayhap it is all for the best that the affair should be\nended thus peacefully. The estates of the Roderburgs shall be held in\ntrust for thee until thou art come of age; otherwise it shall be as thou\nhast proposed, the little maiden shall be taken into ward under our own\ncare. And as to thee--art thou willing that I should take thee under my\nown charge in the room of thy father, who is dead?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said Otto, simply, \"I am willing, for it seems to me that thou\nart a good man.\"\n\nThe nobles who stood near smiled at the boy's speech. As for the\nEmperor, he laughed outright. \"I give thee thanks, my Lord Baron,\" said\nhe; \"there is no one in all my court who has paid me greater courtesy\nthan that.\"\n\nSo comes the end of our tale.\n\nBut perhaps you may like to know what happened afterward, for no one\ncares to leave the thread of a story without tying a knot in it.\n\nEight years had passed, and Otto grew up to manhood in the Emperor's\ncourt, and was with him through war and peace.\n\nBut he himself never drew sword or struck a blow, for the right hand\nthat hung at his side was of pure silver, and the hard, cold fingers\nnever closed. Folks called him \"Otto of the Silver Hand,\" but perhaps\nthere was another reason than that for the name that had been given him,\nfor the pure, simple wisdom that the old monks of the White Cross on\nthe hill had taught him, clung to him through all the honors that the\nEmperor bestowed upon his favorite, and as he grew older his words were\nlistened to and weighed by those who were high in Council, and even by\nthe Emperor himself.\n\nAnd now for the end of all.\n\nOne day Otto stood uncertainly at the doorway of a room in the imperial\ncastle, hesitating before he entered; and yet there was nothing so very\ndreadful within, only one poor girl whose heart fluttered more than his.\nPoor little Pauline, whom he had not seen since that last day in the\nblack cell at Trutz-Drachen.\n\nAt last he pushed aside the hangings and entered the room.\n\nShe was sitting upon a rude bench beside the window, looking at him out\nof her great, dark eyes.\n\nHe stopped short and stood for a moment confused and silent; for he had\nno thought in his mind but of the little girl whom he had last seen, and\nfor a moment he stood confused before the fair maiden with her great,\nbeautiful dark eyes.\n\nShe on her part beheld a tall, slender youth with curling, golden hair,\none hand white and delicate, the other of pure and shining silver.\n\nHe came to her and took her hand and set it to his lips, and all that\nshe could do was to gaze with her great, dark eyes upon the hero of whom\nshe had heard so many talk; the favorite of the Emperor; the wise young\nOtto of the Silver Hand.\n\n\n\n\nAfterword\n\nThe ruins of Drachenhausen were rebuilt, for the walls were as sound as\never, though empty and gaping to the sky; but it was no longer the den\nof a robber baron for beneath the scutcheon over the great gate was\ncarved a new motto of the Vuelphs; a motto which the Emperor Rudolph\nhimself had given:\n\n\"Manus argentea quam manus ferrea melior est.\"\n\n\n\n\n\nEnd of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Otto of the Silver Hand, by Howard Pyle\n\nNow, answer the question based on the story asconcisely as you can, using a single phrase if possible. Do not provide any explanation.\n\nQuestion: Who did Baron Conrad kill?\n\nAnswer:"}
{"question_id": 125, "category": "longbench_narrativeqa", "reference": ["Take their clothes off"], "prompt": "You are given a story, which can be either a novel or a movie script, and a question. Answer the question asconcisely as you can, using a single phrase if possible. Do not provide any explanation.\n\nStory: \t\t\t\t\t\tGhostbusters II\n\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\tby\n\t\t\t\t\t\tHarold Ramis\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\tand\n\t\t\t\t\t\tDan Aykroyd\n\n\t\t\t\t\t September 29, 1988\n\t\t\t\tLast revised Feburary 27, 1989\n\n\n<b>EXT.  MANHATTAN ISLAND - DAY\n</b>\nA high AERIAL SHOT of the island features the Statue of Liberty\nprominently in the foreground then TRAVELS ACROSS the harbor, OVER the\nBattery and Lower Manhattan to Greenwich Village.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - DAY\n</b>\nA car is being hoisted up by a municipal tow truck while its owner is\nhaving a terrible screaming arguement with a parking enforcement officer.\nDANA BARRETT comes home pushing a baby buggy, struggling with two full\nbags of groceries, and trying to dig her keys out of her purse. The\n\nbuilding superintendent FRANK, sees her struggling but pretends not to\nnotice.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (exasperated)\n\t\t\tFrank, do you think you could give me a hand\n\t\t\twith these bags?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\tI'm not a doorman, Miss Barrett.  I'm a\n\t\t\tbuilding superintendent.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tYou're also a human being, Frank.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reluctantly going to help)\n\t\t\tOkay, okay.  It's not my job, but what the\n\t\t\thell.  I'll do you a favor.  He takes the\n\t\t\tgrocery bags from her.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (setting the wheel brakes on\n\t\t\t\t the buggy)\n\t\t\tThank you, Frank.  I'll get the hang of this\n\t\t\teventually.\n\nShe continues digging in her purse while Frank leans over the buggy and\nmakes funny faces at the baby, OSCAR, a very cute nine-month old boy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the baby)\n\t\t\tHiya, Oscar.  What do you say, slugger?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tThat's a good-looking kid you got there, Ms.\n\t\t\tBarrett.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (finding her keys)\n\t\t\tThank you, Frank.  Oh, are you ever going to\n\t\t\tfix the radiator in my bedroom?  I asked you\n\t\t\tlast week.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\tDidn't I do it?\n\n<b>BABY BUGGY\n</b>\nIt starts to vibrate as if shaken by an unseen hand.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - BABY - DAY\n</b>\nHe GURGLES with delight at the movement.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - DANA AND FRANK - DAY\n</b>\nNeither of them notice the movement of the carriage.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tNo, you didn't, Frank.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, that's no problem.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThat's exactly what you said last week.\n\n<b>BUGGY WHEELS\n</b>\nThe brakes unlock themselves.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe reaches for the handlebar of the buggy, but the buggy rolls forward\njust out of her reach and stops.  Surprised by the movement, she reaches\nfor the handlebar again, but this time the buggy rolls away even\nfurther.  Alarmed now, Dana hurries after it, but the buggy keeps\nrolling down the street at ever increasing speed.\n\n<b>SIDEWALK\n</b>\nDana chases the buggy down the street, shouting to passing pedestrians\nfor help, but every time someone reaches out to stop it, the buggy\nswerves and continues unchecked.\n\n<b>INTERSECTION\n</b>\nCars, trucks, and buses speed by in both directions as the buggy races\ntoward the corner.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe puts her head down and sprints after the buggy like an Olympian.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - INTERSECTION - DAY\n</b>\nA city bus is on a collision course with the speeding baby buggy.\n\n<b>BUGGY\n</b>\nIt careens toward the corner.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - BABY - DAY\n</b>\nIts eyes are wide open with excitement.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - INTERSECTION - DAY\n</b>\nBus and buggy are closing fast as the buggy bounces over the curb and\ninto the crosswalk.\n\n<b>BUS\n</b>\nThe bus driver reacts in helpless horror as he sees the buggy enter the\nintersection at high speed.\n\n<b>BUGGY\n</b>\nIt comes to a dead stop right in the middle of the street.  The bus\ncontinues missing the buggy by inches.\n\n<b>INTERSECTION\n</b>\nCars and trucks swerve and hit their brakes as Dana runs into the\nintersection and snatches up the baby.  She hugs it close, deeply\nrelieved, then looks at the buggy with the dawning awareness that the\nsupernatural has re-entered her life.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  UPPER WEST SIDE - NEW YORK CITY STREET - GHOSTBUSTERS LOGO - DAY\n</b>\nTHEME MUSIC kicks in strongly as we see the familiar \"No Ghosts\" symbol\nand PULL BACK to reveal that it's painted on the side of Ecto-1, the\nGhostbusters' emergency vehicle, which is speeding up Broadway on the\nUpper West Side.  RAY STANTZ is driving and WINSTON ZEDDEMORE is riding\nshotgun.\n\n<b>EXT.  WEST 77TH STREET - DAY  (MOMENTS LATER)\n</b>\nThe Ectomobile pulls up in front of a carefully-restored brownstone.\nStantz and Winston, wearing their official Ghostbuster uniforms, jump\nout of the old ambulance, shoulder their proton packs and enter the\nhouse.\n\n<b>INT.  BROWNSTONE - DAY  (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nA WOMAN greets them and leads them through the expensively-furnished\nhouse.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (all business)\n\t\t\tHow many of them are there, ma'am?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWOMAN\n</b>\t\t\tFourteen.  They're in the back.  I hope you can\n\t\t\thandle them.  It's been like a nightmare.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tHow big are they?\n\nShe holds her hand out indicating about four feet.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (resolute)\n\t\t\tWe'll do our best, ma'am.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWOMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThey're right out here.\n\nShe leads them to a set of French doors that open into another room.\nStantz and Winston pause to make final adjustments to their equipment.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tReady?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tI'm ready.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThen let's do it.\n\nHe pushes through the French doors and they step into the room.\n\n<b>INT.  BROWNSTONE - DAY  (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThey are immediately attacked by fourteen or fifteen screaming KIDS\nbetween the ages of seven and ten.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tKIDS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (disappointed)\n\t\t\tGhostbusters!!  Boooo!!\n\nTables are set with party favors, ice cream and birthday cake and the\nroom is strewn with discarded toys and games.  A couple of weary parents\nsink onto lawn chairs as Stantz and Winston take over the party.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (trying his best)\n\t\t\tHow you doin', kids?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLITTLE BOY\n</b>\t\t\t\t (nasty)\n\t\t\tI though we were having He-Man.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tHe-Man couldn't make it today.  That's why\n\t\t\twe're here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tBOY\n</b>\t\t\tMy dad says you're full of crap.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (stopped cold)\n\t\t\tWell, a lot of people have trouble believing\n\t\t\tin the paranormal.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tBOY\n</b>\t\t\tNo, he just says you're full of crap and that's\n\t\t\twhy you went out of business.\n\nHe kicks Stantz in the leg.  Stantz grabs him by the shirtfront.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (low and menacing)\n\t\t\tI'm watching you.\n\t\t\t\t (to Winston)\n\t\t\tSong.\n\nWinston switches on a tiny TAPE RECORDER which starts PLAYING the\nGhostbusters THEME SONG. Stantz and WInston start singing\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ AND WINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t'There's something wrong in the neighborhood.\n\t\t\tWho you gonna call?'\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tKIDS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (all together)\n\t\t\tHe-Man!!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. WEST 77TH STREET - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nStantz and Winston wearily load their equipment into the Ectomobile.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tThat's it, Ray.  I've had it.  No more parties.\n\t\t\tI'm tired of taking abuse from over-privileged\n\t\t\tnine-year-olds.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tCome on, Winston.  We can't quit now.  The\n\t\t\tholidays are coming up.  It's our best season.\n\nThey get in the car\n\n<b>INT.  ECTO-1 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nStantz tries to start the car, but the engine won't turn over.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tGive it up, Ray.  You're living in the past.\n\t\t\tGhostbusters doesn't exist anymore.  In a year\n\t\t\tthese kids won't even remember who we are.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (tries to start the car again)\n\t\t\tUngrateful little Yuppie larvae.  After all we\n\t\t\tdid for this city.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, what did we do, Ray?  The last real job\n\t\t\twe had we bubbled up a hundred foot marshmallow\n\t\t\tman and blew the top three floors off an uptown\n\t\t\thighrise.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, but what a ride.  You can't make a\n\t\t\thamburger without chopping up a cow.\n\nHe turns the key again, the ENGING TURNS OVER, then starts GRINDING and\nCLUNKING disastrously, chewing up vital parts and dropping twisted bits\nof metal onto the pavement.  Finally, with a BLAST of black sooty\nexhaust from the tailpipe, Ecto-1 shudders and dies.  Frustrated, Stantz\nbangs his head lightly on the steering wheel\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  WKRR-TV STUDIO RECEPTION AREA - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nA bank of monitors in the lobby show the program now running on WKRR,\nChannel 10 in New York. We PUSH IN ON one of the monitors as a title\ncard and logo come up accompanied by some EERIE SYNTHESIZER MUSIC, and\nwe return to the show in progress: \"World of the Psychic with Dr. Peter\nVenkman.\"  There is a video dissolve to a standard talk show set and\nsitting there is our host PETER VENKMAN, the renowned and somewhat\ninfamous ex-Ghostbuster.\n\n<b>VENKMAN\n</b>\nHe turns TO CAMERA and talks to his viewers in a suavely engaging tone,\nunderstated and intimate.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHi, welcome back to the 'World of the Psychic,'\n\t\t\tI'm Peter Venkman and I'm chatting with my guest,\n\t\t\tauthor, lecturer and of course, psychic, Milton\n\t\t\tAnglund.\n\t\t\t\t (to his guest)\n\t\t\tMilt, your new book is called The End of the\n\t\t\tWorld.  Isn't that kind of like writing about\n\t\t\tgum disease.  Yes, it could happen, but do you\n\t\t\tthink anybody wants to read a book about it?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMILTON\n</b>\t\t\tWell, I think it's important for people to know\n\t\t\tthat the world is in danger.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, so can you tell us when it's going to\n\t\t\thappen or do we have to buy the book?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMILTON\n</b>\t\t\tI predict that the world will end at the\n\t\t\tstroke of midnight on New Year's Eve.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThis year?  That's cutting it a little close,\n\t\t\tisn't it?  I mean, just from a sales point of\n\t\t\tview, the book just came out, right?  So you're\n\t\t\tnot even looking at the paperback release for\n\t\t\tmaybe a year.  And it's going to be at least\n\t\t\tanother year after that if the thing has\n\t\t\tmovie-of-the-week or mini-series potential.\n\t\t\tYou would have been better off predicting 1992\n\t\t\tor even '94 just to be safe.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMILTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (irritated)\n\t\t\tThis is not just some money-making scheme!  I\n\t\t\tdidn't just make up the date.  I have a strong\n\t\t\tpsychic belief that the world will end on New\n\t\t\tYear's Eve.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (placating)\n\t\t\tWell, for your sake, I hope you're right.  But\n\t\t\tI think my other guest may disagree with you.\n\t\t\tElaine, you had another date in mind?\n\nThe CAMERA REVEALS ELAINE, an attractive, aggressive New Jersey\nhousewife, sitting on the other side of Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tELAINE\n</b>\t\t\tAccording to my sources, the world will end\n\t\t\ton February 14, in the year 2016.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tValentine's Day.  That's got to be a bummer.\n\t\t\tWhere did you get that date, Elaine?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tELAINE\n</b>\t\t\tI received this information from an alien.  I\n\t\t\twas at the Paramus Holiday Inn, I was having\n\t\t\ta drink in the bar when he approached me and\n\t\t\tstarted talking.  Then he must have used some\n\t\t\tsort of ray or a mind control device because\n\t\t\the made me follow him to his room and that's\n\t\t\twhere he told me about the end of the world.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYour alien had a room in the Holiday Inn?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tELAINE\n</b>\t\t\tIt may have been a room on the spacecraft made\n\t\t\tup to look like a room in the Holiday Inn.  I\n\t\t\tcan't be sure, Peter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (humoring her)\n\t\t\tNo, you can't, and I think that's the whole\n\t\t\tproblem with aliens; you just can't trust them.\n\t\t\tYou may get some nice ones occasionally like\n\t\t\tStarman or E.T., but most of them turn out to\n\t\t\tbe some kind of lizard.  Anyway, we're just\n\t\t\tabout out of time.\n\t\t\t\t (does his wrap-up right TO\n\t\t\t\t the CAMERA)\n\t\t\tNext week on 'World of the Psychic,' hairless\n\t\t\tpets.\n\t\t\t\t (holds up a hairless cat)\n\t\t\tUntil then, this is Peter Venkman saying ...\n\t\t\t\t (puts a finger to his temple\n\t\t\t\t and sends out a though to his\n\t\t\t\t viewers)\n\t\t\t... Good night.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT. TV STUDIO - CORRIDOR - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nVenkman comes out of the studio squabbling with his producer, NORMAN, a\nwell-meaning young incompetent.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhere do you find these people?  I thought\n\t\t\twe were having the telekinetic guy who bends\n\t\t\tthe spoons?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tNORMAN\n</b>\t\t\tA lot of the better psychics won't come on the\n\t\t\tshow.  They think you're too skeptical.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSkeptical!  Norman, I'm a pushover.  I think\n\t\t\tprofessional wrestling is real.\n\nThere is a small commotion down the hall as two plainclothes cops come\nout of the next studio followed by a group of mayoral assistants.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Norman)\n\t\t\tWhat's all this?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tNORMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThey just interviewed the mayor on 'Cityline.'\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThe Mayor!  He's a friend of mine.\n\nVenkman starts down the hall as the MAYOR and his principal aide, JACK\nHARDEMEYER, come walking out of the studio.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (calling to the Mayor)\n\t\t\tLenny!\n\nThe Mayor sees Venkman, blanches and hurries off, pretending not to know\nhim.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (starts to follow him)\n\t\t\tLenny!  It's Pete Venkman!\n\nThe plainclothesmen cut Venkman off and Hardemeyer puts a heavy hand\nagainst Venkman's chest.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (snide)\n\t\t\tCan I help you?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (dangerous)\n\t\t\tYeah, you can get your hand off my chest.\n\nHardemeyer smiles and drops his hand.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tI'm Jack Hardemeyer.  I'm the mayor's assistant.\n\t\t\tWhat can I do for you?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm an old friend of the mayor's.  I just\n\t\t\twant to say hello to him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (scornful)\n\t\t\tI know who you are, Doctor Venkman.  Busting\n\t\t\tany ghosts lately?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNo, that's what I want to talk to the mayor\n\t\t\tabout.  We did a little job for the city a\n\t\t\twhile back and we ended up getting sued,\n\t\t\tscrewed and tattooed by deskworms like you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (bristling)\n\t\t\tLook, you stay away from the mayor.  Next fall,\n\t\t\tbarring a disaster, he's going to be elected\n\t\t\tgovernor of this state and the last thing we\n\t\t\tneed is for him to be associated with two-bit\n\t\t\tfrauds and publicity hounds like you and your\n\t\t\tfriends.  You read me?\n\nHardemeyer walks off with the two cops.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, I get it.  But I want you to tell Lenny\n\t\t\tthat, because of you, I'm not voting for him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. MANHATTAN MUSEUM OF ART - DAY\n</b>\nThe broad front steps of the museum are crowded with tourists and\nvisitors.  Dana arrives carrying a portfolio and artist's tackle box and\nenters the museum.\n\n<b>INT. MUSEUM - RESTORATION STUDIO - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nWe are FULL-FRAME ON a larger-than-life, full-figure portrait of VIGO\nTHE CARPATHIAN, a demented and sadistic 16th century despot with an\nincredibly powerful evil presence.  Then we PULL BACK to reveal the\nstudio, which is a large open space on the top floor of the museum, lit\nby large skylights in the ceiling.  Working on the Vigo painting is\nJANOSZ POHA, a youngish art historian and painter, the head of the\ndepartment, quirky, intense and somewhat creepy.  Janosz is staring\nlongingly across the room at Dana.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe is carefully cleaning a 19th Century landscape painting, still\npreoccupied by the extraordinary near-accident with the buggy.  Janosz\nwatches her for a moment, then comes up behind her and looks over her\nshoulder.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with an East European accent)\n\t\t\tStill working on the Turner?\n\nDana jumps, startled by the intrusion.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tOh, yes, I got in a little late this morning,\n\t\t\tJanosz.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou know, you are really doing very good work\n\t\t\there.  I think soon you may be ready to assist\n\t\t\tme in some of the more important restorations.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThank you, Janosz.  I've learned a lot here,\n\t\t\tbut now that my baby's a little older, I was\n\t\t\thoping to rejoin the orchestra.\n\n<b>VIGO PAINTING\n</b>\nAt the mention of Dana's baby, the figure of Vigo miraculously turns his\nhead and looks at Dana.\n\n<b>JANOSZ AND DANA\n</b>\nNeither of them notice the movement in the painting.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (disappointed)\n\t\t\tWe'll be very sorry to lose you.  Perhaps I\n\t\t\tcould take you to lunch today?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tActually, I'm not eating lunch today.  I have\n\t\t\tan appointment.\n\t\t\t\t (looks at her watch)\n\t\t\tIn fact, I'd better go.\n\nShe starts gathering up her things.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tEvery day I ask you, and every day you've got\n\t\t\tsomething else to do.  Do I have bad breath\n\t\t\tor something?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (trying to brush him off)\n\t\t\tI'm sorry.  Perhaps some other time.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, I'll take a raincheck on that.\n\nJanosz smiles at her as she exits, then goes back to his easel.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to himself)\n\t\t\tI think she likes me.\n\nHe switches on an English language TAPE and starts practicing the\nphrases as he resumes working.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. UNIVERSITY - DAY\n</b>\nDana Barrett crosses the quad and enters a modern building.  A sign\nidentifies it as \"The Institute for Advanced Theoretical Research.\"\n\n<b>INT. UNIVERSITY - DAY (A LITTLE LATER)\n</b>\nDana is explaining the buggy incident to EGON SPENGLER, the soberly\nintellectual techno-wizard and former Ghostbuster, as he conducts an\nexperiment assisted by a research team of graduate students, all of whom\nare Japanese, Chinese, or Korean.  The device he is testing is a black\nbox about the size of a Sony Watchman with both digital and graphic\ndisplays.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t... and then the buggy just suddenly stopped\n\t\t\tdead in the middle of the street\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\n\t\t\tDid anyone else see this happen?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHundreds of people.  Believe me, I didn't\n\t\t\timagine this.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI'm not saying you did.  In science we always\n\t\t\tlook for the simplest explanation.\n\nAn ASSISTANT interrupts.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tASSISTANT\n</b>\t\t\tWe're ready, Dr. Spengler\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Assistant)\n\t\t\tWe'll start with the negative calibration.\n\nHe picks up the device and prepares to test it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (curious)\n\t\t\tWhat are you working on, Egon?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI'm trying to determine whether human\n\t\t\temotional states have a measurable effect on\n\t\t\tthe psychomagnetheric energy field.  It's a\n\t\t\ttheory Ray and I were working on when we had\n\t\t\tto dissolve Ghostbusters.\n\nAn assistant draws a curtain revealing a large picture window, actually\na two-way mirror, that looks into a small waiting room.  Inside the\nwaiting room they can see but not hear a youngish couple having a heated\narguement.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tThey think they're here for marriage\n\t\t\tcounseling.  We've kept them waiting for two\n\t\t\thours and we've been gradually increasing the\n\t\t\ttemperature in the room.\n\t\t\t\t (checking a heat sensor)\n\t\t\tIt's up to 95 degrees at the moment.  Now my\n\t\t\tassistant is going to enter and ask them if\n\t\t\tthey'd mind waiting another half-hour.\n\nAs Spengler, Dana, and the research team watch, the assistant enters the\nwaiting room and tells the couple about the new delay.  They explode\nwith anger both at him and each other while Spengler monitors them\nthrough the glass.  After recording his readings, he returns to his\nAssistant.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWe'll do the happiness index next.\n\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tI'd like to bring Ray in on your case, if\n\t\t\tit's all right with you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, whatever you think -- but not Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tOh no.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (affectedly casual)\n\t\t\tDo you ever see him?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tOccasionally\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHow is he these days?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tVenkman?  I think he was borderline for a\n\t\t\twhile there.  Then he crossed the border.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tDoes he ever mention me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tNo.  Not that I can recall.\n\nThey move to another two-way mirror through which they can see a lovely\nlittle girl playing with a wonderful array of toys.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (slightly disappointed)\n\t\t\tWell, we didn't part on very good terms and\n\t\t\twe sort of lost track of each other when I\n\t\t\tgot married.\n\nThe Assistant interrupts again.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tASSISTANT\n</b>\t\t\tWe're ready for the affection test.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the assistant)\n\t\t\tGood.  Send in the puppy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (continuing)\n\t\t\tI thought of calling him after my marriage\n\t\t\tended, but --.  Anyway, I appreciate you're\n\t\t\tdoing this, Egon\n\nThey watch as another assistant enters the playroom with an adorable\nCocker Spaniel puppy and gives it to the little girl.  Spengler monitors\nher as she jumps for joy and hugs the little dog.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (handing him a card)\n\t\t\tThis is my address and telephone number.\n\t\t\tWill you call me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tCertainly.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tEgon, I'd rather you didn't mention any of\n\t\t\tthis to Peter if you don't mind.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI won't.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThank you.\n\nShe shakes his hand and exits.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to his assistant)\n\t\t\tNow let's see how she reacts when we take\n\t\t\taway the puppy\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. RAY'S OCCULT BOOK STORE - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nIt's a small basement shop located on a quaint commercial block in\nGreenwich Village.  The window is crowded with occult artifacts and old\nbooks full of arcane metaphysical lore.  The TELEPHONE RINGS.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (v.o., answering the phone)\n\t\t\tRay's Occult.\n\n<b>INT. RAY'S OCCULT BOOKS - CONTINUOUS\n</b>\nThe shelves are jammed floor to ceiling with books on the paranormal.\nRay sits on a barstool behind the counter wearing an old cardigan\nsweater over a T-shirt.  He has on a pair of reading glasses and chews\non a battered, reeking pipe.  As he talks on the phone he prepares a cup\nof herb tea for Spengler who is thumbing through an arcane text.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on the phone)\n\t\t\tYeah ... mmhmm ... What do you need? ... What\n\t\t\thave I got?  I've got alchemy, astrology,\n\t\t\tapparitions, Bundu Magic Men, demon\n\t\t\tintercession, U.F.O. abductions, psychic\n\t\t\tsurgery, stigmata, modern miracles, pixie\n\t\t\tsightings, golden geese, geists, ghosts, I've\n\t\t\tgot it all -- what are you looking for? ...\n\t\t\tDon't have any.  Try the stockyards.\n\nHe hangs up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWho was that?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tSome crank.  Looking for goat hooves.  Come\n\t\t\tup with anything?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (referring to the book)\n\t\t\tThis one's interesting.  Berlin, 1939, a\n\t\t\tflower cart took off by itself and rolled\n\t\t\tapproximately half a kilometer over level\n\t\t\tground.  Three hundred eyewitnesses.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou might want to check those Duke University\n\t\t\tmean averaging studies on controlled\n\t\t\tpsychokinesis.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (going to the stacks)\n\t\t\tGood idea.\n\nThe bones hanging over the door rattle as Venkman enters the shop.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOh, hello, perhaps you could help me.  I'm\n\t\t\tlooking for an aerosol love potion I could\n\t\t\tspray on a certain Penthouse Pet that would\n\t\t\tmake her unconditionally submit to an unusual\n\t\t\tpersonal request.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOh, hiya, Pete.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo, no goat hooves, huh?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (strung)\n\t\t\tI knew that voice sounded familiar.  What's\n\t\t\tup?  How's it going?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNowhere -- fast.  Why don't you lock up and\n\t\t\tbuy me a sub?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (slightly evasive)\n\t\t\tUh, I can't.  I'm kind of working on something.\n\nSpengler steps out of the stacks.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tEgon!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tHello, Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHow've you been?  How's teaching?  I bet\n\t\t\tthose science chicks really dig that big\n\t\t\tcranium of yours, huh?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI think they're more interested in my\n\t\t\tepididymis.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI don't even want to know where that is.\n\nVenkman steps behind the counter and takes a beer from Ray's mini-fridge.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOh, your book came in, Venkman.  Magical\n\t\t\tPaths to Fortune and Power.\n\nHe hands Venkman the book.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tGreat.\n\t\t\t\t (reading the contents)\n\t\t\tSo what are you guys working on?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOh, just checking something for an old friend.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWho?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (at a loss)\n\t\t\tWho?  Just -- someone we know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOh, Ray --\n\nHe grabs Stantz by both ears and pulls up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWho?  Who?  Who?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tAaah!  Nobody!  I can't tell you!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWho, Ray?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (giving in)\n\t\t\tDana!  Dana Barrett!\n\nVenkman lets go of his ears and smiles.  Spengler looks at Stantz and\nshakes his head.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT. DANA'S APARTMENT - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThe apartment is old and creatively furnished with a comfortable mix of\nmodern and traditional pieces.  Maria, a young Hispanic woman who does\nday care for Dana, is feeding the baby in the kitchen when the DOORBELL\n<b>RINGS.\n</b>\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\nDana enters from the bedroom and crosses to the front door.  She opens\nit and admits Ray and Egon.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (hugging Ray)\n\t\t\tHi, Ray.  It's good to see you.  Thanks for\n\t\t\tcoming.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo problem.  Always glad to help -- and hug.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Spengler)\n\t\t\tHi, Egon.\n\nShe shakes his hand and is about to close the door when Venkman appears\nin the doorway.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHi, Dana.\n\nDana is caught completely off guard by Venkman's surprise appearance.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI knew you'd come crawling back to me.\n\nShe regards him coolly, as always amused and amazed at his\npresumptuousness.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHello, Peter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tYou know, Dana, I'm very very hurt that you\n\t\t\tdidn't call me first.  I'm still into all\n\t\t\tthis stuff, you know.  Haven't you ever seen\n\t\t\tmy show?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI have.  That's why I didn't call you first.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI can see that you're still very bitter about\n\t\t\tus, but in the interest of science, I'm going\n\t\t\tto give it my best shot.  Let's go to work,\n\t\t\tboys.\n\nStantz and Spengler begin a comprehensive parapsychological work-up on\nthe baby and the immediate physical environment.\n\n<b>VENKMAN AND DANA\n</b>\nVenkman starts nosing around the apartment.  Dana follows him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo what happened to Mr. Right?  I hear he\n\t\t\tditched you and the kid and moved to Europe.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHe didn't \"ditch\" me.  We had some problems,\n\t\t\the got a good offer from an orchestra in\n\t\t\tEngland and he took it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHe ditched you.  You should've married me,\n\t\t\tyou know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tYou never asked me, and every time I brought\n\t\t\tit up you'd get drowsy and fall asleep.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tMen are very sensitive, you know.  We need to\n\t\t\tfeel loved and desired, too.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tWell, when you started introducing me as \"the\n\t\t\told ball and chain,\" that's when I left.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI may have a few personal problems but one thing\n\t\t\tI am is a total professional.\n\nHe leaves her and crosses to Spengler.\n\n<b>SPENGLER\n</b>\nHe's taking a complete set of body and head measurements of the baby\nwith a tape measure and calipers.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat are you going to do, Egon?  Knit him a\n\t\t\tsnowsuit?\n\nSpengler ignores the remark and hands Venkman a specimen jar.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI'd like to have a stool specimen\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, you would.  Is that for personal or\n\t\t\tprofessional reasons?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (picking up the baby)\n\t\t\tOkay, kid.  Up you go.\n\nHe starts clowning with the baby, holding him over his head and pressing\nhis nose into the baby's belly, pretending that the baby is attacking\nhim.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHelp!  Please somebody help me!  Get him off!\n\t\t\tQuickly!  He's gone completely berserk!\n\nDana is amused and somewhat disarmed by Venkman's rapport with the baby.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tWhat do you think?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThere's no doubt about it.  He's got his\n\t\t\tfather's looks.  The kid is ugly -- extremely\n\t\t\tugly.  And smelly.\n\t\t\t\t (resumes playing with the baby)\n\t\t\tYou stink!  It's just horrible.  You are the\n\t\t\tstinkiest baby I ever smelled.\n\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tWhat's his name?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHis name is Oscar.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOscar!  You poor kid!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (losing patience)\n\t\t\tPeter, this is serious.  I need to know if you\n\t\t\tthink there's anything unusual about him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tUnusual?\n\t\t\t\t (holds up the baby and\n\t\t\t\t scrutinizes him)\n\t\t\tI don't know.  I haven't had a lot of\n\t\t\texperience with babies.\n\nHe looks at the baby, pulling his feet up, trying to get the sleeper\noff.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (taking the specimen jar)\n\t\t\tI'll do it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'll supervise.\n\n<b>INT. DANA'S APARTMENT - NURSERY - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nVenkman enters and finds Stantz monitoring the room.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tWell, Holmes, what do you think?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt's an interesting one, Pete.  If anything\n\t\t\twas going on it's totally subdued now.\n\nSpengler enters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Spengler)\n\t\t\tWhat now, Brainiac?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI think we should see if we can find\n\t\t\tanything abnormal on the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tFinding something abnormal on the street\n\t\t\tshouldn't be too hard.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. EAST 77TH STREET - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nDana walks down the street with Venkman, retracing the path of the\nrunaway buggy.  Spengler and Stantz follow, monitoring PKE valences from\nthe pavement and the buildings.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Dana, nostalgic)\n\t\t\tBrings back a lot of sweet memories, doesn't\n\t\t\tit?\n\t\t\t\t (pointing out familiar\n\t\t\t\t neighborhood sights)\n\t\t\tThere's our old cash machine.  And the dry\n\t\t\tcleaners we used to go to.  And the old\n\t\t\tvideo store.\n\t\t\t\t (he wipes away an imaginary\n\t\t\t\t tear)\n\t\t\tWe really had some good times, didn't we?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tWe definitely had a moment or two.\n\nDana stops at the intersection and points to the middle of the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThat's where the buggy stopped.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, let's take a look.\n\nVenkman walks right out into the middle of the street, completely\noblivious to the CARS HONKING and whizzing past him and starts motioning\nlike a traffic cop, bringing traffic to a standstill.  Then he signals\nfor Dana, Stantz and Spengler to join him in the middle of the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reading the PKE meter)\n\t\t\tIs this the spot?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tA little to the left.  Right there!  That's\n\t\t\twhere it stopped.\n\nStantz reads the PKE meter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNothing.  Not a trace.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWhy don't we try the Giga-meter?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat's that?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tEgon and I have been working on a gauge to\n\t\t\tmeasure psychomagnetheric energy in GEVs -\n\t\t\tgiga electron volts.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tThat's a thousand million electron volts.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI knew that.\n\nSpengler switches on the Giga-meter, the device he was testing in the\nlab, and passes it over the spot on the street where the buggy stopped.\nThe indicator goes right into the red zone and the DEVICE starts CLICKING\n<b>WILDLY.\n</b>\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI think we hit the honeypot, boys.  There's\n\t\t\tsomething brewing under the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (worried, to Venkman)\n\t\t\tPeter, do you think maybe I have some genetic\n\t\t\tproblem or something that makes me vulnerable\n\t\t\tto these supernatural things.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou mean like the time you got possessed and\n\t\t\tturned into a monster terror dog?  No, not\n\t\t\ta chance.  Total coincidence.\n\t\t\t\t (to Stantz and Spengler)\n\t\t\tAm I right?\n\nStantz and Spengler look at him skeptically, not convinced by the\ncoincidence theory.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MANHATTAN MUSEUM OF ART - LATE AFTERNOON\n</b>\nThe museum has just closed for the day and the last of the visitors and\nemployees are leaving.\n\n<b>INT.  RESTORATION STUDIO - SAME TIME\n</b>\nJanosz is working late on the painting of Vigo.\n\n<b>VIGO PAINTING\n</b>\nUnnoticed by Janosz, the eyes of Vigo start to glow.\n\n<b>JANOSZ\n</b>\nHe touches his brush to the canvas and a powerful current of red,\ncrackling energy surges through the brush and courses through his body,\ndriving him to his knees.\n\n<b>PAINTING\n</b>\nThe figure of Vigo comes to life, turns toward Janosz and gestures\ndramatically at him.  Then he speaks to Janosz in a commanding voice.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tI, Vigo, the scourge of Carpathia, the\n\t\t\tsorrow of Moldavia, command you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (in agony)\n\t\t\tCommand me, lord.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tOn a mountain of skulls in a castle of pain,\n\t\t\tI sat on a throne of blood.  What was will\n\t\t\tbe, what is will be no more.  Now is the\n\t\t\tseason of evil.  Find me a child that I might\n\t\t\tlive again.\n\nBolts of red-hot energy shoot from the eyes of Vigo into Janosz's eyes.\nHe screams and falls to his knees.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. COFFEE SHOP - EAST 77TH STREET - NIGHT\n</b>\nVenkman and Stantz come out with small boxes containing coffee,\nsandwiches and Danish and start walking up the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI love this.  We're onto something really\n\t\t\tbig.  I can smell it, Ray.  We're going to\n\t\t\tmake some headlines with this one.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tHey, hey, hey, stresshound!  Are you nuts?\n\t\t\tIf anybody found out about this we'd be in\n\t\t\tserious trouble.  The judge couldn't have\n\t\t\tbeen clearer - no ghostbusting.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tRelax.  We're going to keep this whole thing\n\t\t\tnice and quiet, low key, no profile.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nSpengler, wearing a hardhat, is JACKHAMMERING a hole in the middle of the\nstreet.  Safety cones and reflectors have been set up and a small area is\nlit by strong work lights.\n\n<b>POLICE CAR\n</b>\nIt turns onto East 77th Street, cruises slowly up to the makeshift\nworksite and stops.  The noise of the JACKHAMMER is so loud, Spengler\ndoesn't notice the police car and the two COPS inside looking at them.\nFinally, he looks up, sees the police car and freezes.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRST COP\n</b>\t\t\tHow ya doing?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reeking with guilt)\n\t\t\tFine!  It's cutting fine now.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRST COP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (curious)\n\t\t\tWhy are you cutting?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (looking for one of the\n\t\t\t\t others)\n\t\t\tWhy are we cutting?  Uh - boss!\n\nVenkman and Stantz arrive just in time wearing Con Ed hardhats, doing a\ngood imitation of a Consolidated Edison repairman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRST COP\n</b>\t\t\tWhat are you doing here?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (belligerent)\n\t\t\tWhat the hell's it look like we're doing?\n\t\t\tWe're bustin out asses over here 'cause\n\t\t\tsome douchebag downtown ain't got nothin'\n\t\t\tbetter to do than make idiots like us work\n\t\t\tlate on a Friday night, right?\n\t\t\t\t (looks to Spengler for\n\t\t\t\t agreement)\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with a \"right on\" fist)\n\t\t\tYo.\n\nThe cops seem satisfied by the explanation.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRST COP\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, boys, take it easy.\n\nThey drive off.  Spengler breathes a great sigh of relief and starts\nrubbing his sore shoulders.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tYou were supposed to help me with this.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou need the exercise.\n\nStantz resumes JACKHAMMERING, while Venkman and Spengler clear the\nrubble from the hole.  Suddenly he hits metal.  They clear away\ngenerations of paving material revealing an ornate iron manhole cover.\nThe manhole cover bears a strange logo and the letters NYPRR.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (examing it)\n\t\t\tNYPRR.  What the hell -- ?  Help me lift\n\t\t\tthis.\n\nThey prey off the iron cover with crowbars, uncovering a very dark and\nvery deep abyss.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shining a flashlight into\n\t\t\t\t the hole)\n\t\t\tWow!  It's an old airshaft.  It just goes\n\t\t\tforever.\n\nSpengler leans in with the giga-meter which is reading even higher now.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tVery intense.  We need a deeper reading.\n\t\t\tSomebody has to go down there.\n\nVenkman and Spengler both look at Ray.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThanks, boys.\n\nThey snap Stantz into a harness and lower him into the hole on a strong\ncable attached to a winch.  Ray calls out orders to them as he descends\ndeeper and deeper.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\t\t (his voice echoing in the\n\t\t\t\t airshaft)\n\t\t\tKeep going -- more -- more --\n\n<b>INT.  HOLE - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nStantz rappels off the sides of the airshaft as he continues his descent\nin total darkness.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (using a radio now)\n\t\t\tLower -- lower --\n\t\t\t\t (to himself)\n\t\t\tGee, this really is deep.\n\nSuddenly, his feet kick thin air as he gets to the bottom of the airshaft\nand swings free in some kind of tunnel.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouts)\n\t\t\tHold it!  Steady!\n\nHe pulls a powerful flashlight from his utility belt and shines it into\nthe tunnel below.\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - STANTZ'S POV - NIGHT\n</b>\nHe is suspended near the top of a beautifully preserved chamber with\nrounded, polished tile walls ardorned with intricate, colorfully enameled\nArt Nouveau mosaics.  A finely inlaid sign identifies it as VAN HORNE\n<b>STATION.\n</b>\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe pans the walls with his flashlight, admiring the excellent tilework,\nand speaks quietly to Venkman and Spengler over his walkie-talkie.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reverently)\n\t\t\tThis is it, boys, the end of the line.  Van\n\t\t\tHorne Station.  The old New York Pneumatic.\n\t\t\tIt's still here.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - HOLE - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nVenkman has no idea what he's talking about.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (explaining)\n\t\t\tThe New York Pneumatic Railway.  It was an\n\t\t\texperimental subway system.  Fan-forced\n\t\t\tair-trains, built around 1870.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (over the walkie-talkie)\n\t\t\tThis is about as deep as you can go under\n\t\t\tManhattan without digging your own hole.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tWhat's the reading?\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nStantz shines his flashlight on the meter and whistles at the extremely\nhigh reading.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on the radio)\n\t\t\tOff the top of the scale.  This place is\n\t\t\treally hot.  Lower me to the floor.\n\nAs Venkman and Spengler feed him some more cable, he pans his flashlight\ndown the wall of the station, then onto the floor.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouts)\n\t\t\tHold it!!  Stop!!  Whoa!!\n\n<b>INT. VAN HORNE STATION - STANTZ'S POV - FLOOR - NIGHT\n</b>\nBelow him is a river of bubbling seething, glowing slime, a veritable\ntorrent of disgusting ooze.\n\nAs he stares into the foul effluent, we become aware of the strangely\namplified and magnified sounds of great ENGINES THROBBING and pulsing in\nthe bowels of the city, of WATER RUSHING through pipes, STEAM HISSING\nthrough ducts, the muffled RUMBLE of the SUBWAY and the ROAR of TRAFFIC,\nand mixed with it all, the unmistakable sounds of human conflict and pain\n-- VOICES SHOUTING in anger, SCREAMING in fear, GROANING in pain, a sad\nand eerie symphony.\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - STANTZ - NIGHT\n</b>\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (ranting on the radio)\n\t\t\tOh, my God!  It's a seething, bubbling,\n\t\t\tpsychic cess!  Interlocked tubes of plasm,\n\t\t\tcrackling with negative GEVs!  It's glowing\n\t\t\tand moving!  It's -- it's a river of slime!!\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe dangles from the end of the cable, holding his feet up as high as he\ncan.  He unhooks a device from his utility belt and pulls the trigger on\nit, shooting out a long telescoping fishing-pole with a scoop on the end.\nReaching down, he scoops up a sample of the slime and starts retracting\nthe pole.\n\n<b>SLIME\n</b>\nSuddenly, a grotesque arm with a long skeletal fingers reaches up out of\nthe slime and snatches at Stantz's dangling feet.  He jerks his legs up\nas several more arms poke up out of the slime and reach for him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on the radio)\n\t\t\tHaul me up, Venkman!  Now!\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - HOLE - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nVenkman and Spengler start hauling in the cable as a Con Ed Supervisor's\ncar drives up, and behind it, the same police car they saw earlier.  A\nburly SUPERVISOR gets out and crosses toward them, followed by the two\ncops.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSUPERVISOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (no nonsense)\n\t\t\tOkay, what's the story here?\n\nVenkman and Spengler stop pulling up the cable and Venkman tries the\nbelligerent worker ploy again, only this time he's wearing a Nynex\nhardhat.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat, I got time for this?  We got three\n\t\t\tthousand phones out in the Village and about\n\t\t\teight million miles of cable to check.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSUPERVISOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (not buying it)\n\t\t\tThe phone lines are over there.\n\t\t\t\t (points to the curb)\n\nVenkman pops Spengler on the head.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI told ya!\n\nStantz can be heard ranting over Venkman's walkie-talkie.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\t\t (filtered)\n\t\t\tHelp!  Help!  Pull me up!  It's alive!  It's\n\t\t\teating my boots.\n\nVenkman switches off the walkie-talkie.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRST COP\n</b>\t\t\tYou ain't with Con Ed or the phone company.\n\t\t\tWe checked.  Tell me another one.\n\nVenkman stares at the Cop for a long moment.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tGas leak?\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - SAME TIME\n</b>\nStantz is hanging there, looking down into the shaft at the slime which\nis now bubbling up the shaft after him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouting)\n\t\t\tGet me out of here!!\n\nDesperate now, he kicks wildly and knocks loose a section of an old,\nrusting conduit.\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - BOTTOM OF THE SHAFT\n</b>\nThe conduit falls on a heavy electrical transmission line, ripping\nthrough the cable with a SHOWER OF SPARKS.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - HOLE - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n</b>\nVenkman, Spengler, the cops and the supervisor all react to a bright\nFLASH deep down in the hole and a SHOUT from Stantz.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - STREET - NIGHT\n</b>\nOne by one, all the streetlights go out; then the lights on all the\nbuildings along East 77th street; then the whole neighborhood blacks\nout, and finally the entire city is plunged into darkness.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\tSorry.\n\n<b>INT. DANA BARRETT'S APARTMENT - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nShe walks around in the dark lighting candles and placing them all over\nthe living room.  Then she finds a transistor radio and turns it on for\ninformation about the blackout.  She listens to a special news report\nfor a moment, then has a compelling impulse to go check on the baby.\nShe crosses to the nursery carrying a candle and quietly opens the door\nand looks in.  Suddenly the DOORBELL RINGS, scaring her half to death.\nLeaving the chain on the door, she opens it a crack and sees Janosz\nstanding in the hall, eerily lit by a red emergency spot at the end of\nthe hallway.  He looks slightly dazed and even creepier.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (surprised)\n\t\t\tJanosz?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tHello, Dana.  I happened to be in the\n\t\t\tneighborhood and I thought I'd stop by to\n\t\t\tsee if everything's all right with you --\n\t\t\tyou know, with the blackout and everything?\n\t\t\tAre you okay?  Is the baby all right?\n\nHis affected concern is chilling.  She is frightened but conceals it\nfrom him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (mechanically and cautiously)\n\tWe're fine, Janosz.\n\nHe tires to look around her into the apartment.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tDo you need anything?  You want me to come\n\t\t\tin?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tNo, everything's fine.  Honestly.  Thanks\n\t\t\tanyway.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, just thought I'd check.  Good night,\n\t\t\tDana.  Sleep well.  Don't let the bedbugs\n\t\t\tbite you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tGood night, Janosz.\n\nShe closes the door behind him and double locks it, then stands there\nstaring into the candlelight, alone and afraid.\n\n<b>INT.  HALLWAY OF DANA'S BUILDING - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nJanosz stands there in semi-darkness, then his eyes light up like\nheadlights and he walks off down the hall.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - WITNESS STAND - NEXT DAY\n</b>\nThe JUDGE, a rather sour-looking jurist of the old school, calls the\ncourt to order.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tI want to make one thing very clear before\n\t\t\twe go any further.  The law does not recognize\n\t\t\tthe existence of ghosts, and I don't believe\n\t\t\tin them either, so I don't want to hear a\n\t\t\tlot of malarkey about goblins and spooks and\n\t\t\tdemons.  We're going to stick to the facts\n\t\t\tin this case and save the ghost stories for\n\t\t\tthe kiddies.  Understood?\n\n<b>DEFENSE TABLE\n</b>\nStantz leans over and whispers to Spengler.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tSeems like a pretty open-minded guy, huh?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tHis nickname is \"The Hammer.\"\n\nStantz and Spengler are seated with their attorney LOUIS TULLY, lawyer,\nCPA and former demonic possession victim.  Louis is desperately paging\nthrough a mountain of legal textbooks.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (nervous)\n\t\t\tI think you're making a big mistake here,\n\t\t\tfellas.  I do mostly tax law and some probate\n\t\t\tstuff occasionally.  I got my law degree at\n\t\t\tnight school.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThat's all right.  We got arrested at night.\n\n<b>SPECTATORS' GALLERY\n</b>\nVenkman is talking to Dana at the wooden rail in front of the gallery.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI wish I could stay.  I feel personally\n\t\t\tresponsible for you being here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou are personally responsible.  If I can\n\t\t\tget conjugal rights, will you visit me at\n\t\t\tSing Sing?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tPlease don't say that.  You won't go to prison.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDon't worry about me.  I'm like a cat.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tYou mean you cough up hairballs all over\n\t\t\tthe rug?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm El Gato.  I always land on my feet.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (sincerely)\n\t\t\tGood luck.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThanks.\n\nShe gives him a quick, unexpected kiss and exits.  Venkman savors it for\na moment then goes back to the defense table.\n\n<b>PROSECUTION TABLE\n</b>\nJack Hardemeyer, the mayor's principal aide, is goading the PROSECUTOR,\na very sober, humorless woman in her late thirties.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tHow are you doing, hon?  Just put these guys\n\t\t\taway fast and make sure they go away for a\n\t\t\tlong, long time.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tIt shouldn't be hard with this list of charges.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tGood.  Very good.  The mayor and future\n\t\t\tgovernor won't forget this.\n\nHe smiles conspiratorially and makes a point of passing the defense table\non his way out of the courtroom.\n\n<b>DEFENSE TABLE\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters look up as Hardemeyer approaches.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (gloating)\n\t\t\tNice going, Venkman.  Violating a judicial\n\t\t\trestraining order, willful destruction of\n\t\t\tpublic property, fraud, malicious mischief\n\t\t\t-- smooth move.  See you in a couple years\n\t\t\t-- at your first parole hearing.\n\nHerdemeyer exits.  Louis looks devastated.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tGee, the whole city's against us.  I think\n\t\t\tI'm going to be sick.\n\nSpengler hands him a waste basket as the Prosecutor calls her first\nwitness.\n\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - WITNESS STAND - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThe Con Ed Supervisor is testifying.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tMr. Fianella, please look at Exhibits A\n\t\t\tthrough F on the table over there.  Do you\n\t\t\trecognize that equipment?\n\n<b>EXHIBIT TABLE\n</b>\nLying on the table are the basic tools of the Ghostbusting trade: three\nproton packs and particle throwers, a couple of ghost traps, and various\nmeters and detection devices.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCON ED\n</b>\t\t\t\t (o.c.)\n\t\t\tThat's the stuff the cops found in their\n\t\t\ttruck.\n\n<b>WITNESS STAND\n</b>\nShe continues.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tDo you know what this equipment is used for?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCON ED\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shrugs)\n\t\t\tI don't know.  Catching ghosts, I guess.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Judge)\n\t\t\tMay I remind the court that the defendants\n\t\t\tare under a judicial restraining order that\n\t\t\tspecifically forbids them from performing\n\t\t\tservices as paranormal investigators and\n\t\t\teliminators.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tSo noted.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tNow, Mr. Fianella, can you identify the\n\t\t\tsubstance in the jar on the table marked\n\t\t\tExhibit F?\n\n<b>PROSECUTOR\n</b>\nShe goes to the exhibit table and picks up a specimen jar containing the\nslime sample Stantz removed from the tunnel.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCON ED\n</b>\t\t\tI been working underground for Con Ed for\n\t\t\t27 years and I never saw anything like that\n\t\t\tin my life.  We checked out that tunnel the\n\t\t\tnext day and we didn't find nothing.  If it\n\t\t\twas down there, they must have put it there.\n\n<b>DEFENSE TABLE\n</b>\nVenkman and Spengler look at Stantz.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (defensively)\n\t\t\tHey, I didn't imagine it.  There must have\n\t\t\tbeen ten thousand gallons of it down there.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tIt may be ebbing and flowing from some tidal\n\t\t\tsource.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (nervously)\n\t\t\tShould I say that?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI doubt that they'd believe us.\n\nLouis moans and goes back to his notes.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t WIPE TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - WITNESS STAND - LATER\n</b>\nVenkman himself is on the stand and Louis is questioning him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tSo like you were just trying to help out\n\t\t\tyour old friend because she was scared and\n\t\t\tyou didn't really mean to do anything bad\n\t\t\tand you really love the city and won't ever\n\t\t\tdo anything like this again, right?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tObjection, your Honor.  He's leading the\n\t\t\twitness.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tThe witness is leading him.  Sustained.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, let me rephrase that question.\n\t\t\t\t (to venkman)\n\t\t\tDidn't you once coach a basketball team for\n\t\t\tunderprivileged children?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYes, I did.  We were city champs.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tObjection.  Irrelevant and immaterial.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tSustained.  Mr. Tully, do you have anything\n\t\t\tto ask this witness that may have some\n\t\t\tbearing on this case?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Venkman)\n\t\t\tDo I?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I think you've helped them enough already.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Judge)\n\t\t\tNo, I guess not.\n\t\t\t\t (to the Prosecutor)\n\t\t\tYour witness.\n\nThe Prosecutor rises and approaches the witness stand with relish.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tSo, Dr. Venkman, please explain to the court\n\t\t\twhy it is you and your co-defendants took it\n\t\t\tupon yourselves to dig a big hole in the\n\t\t\tmiddle of the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSeventy-seventh and First Avenue has so many\n\t\t\tholes already we didn't think anyone would\n\t\t\tnotice.\n\nThe gallery laughs and the Judge gavels for order.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tKeep that up, mister, and I'll find you in\n\t\t\tcontempt.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSorry, your Honor, but when somebody sets\n\t\t\tme up like that I can't resist.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tI'll ask you again, Dr. Venkman.  Why were\n\t\t\tyou digging the hole?  And please remember\n\t\t\tthat you're under oath.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI had my fingers crossed when they swore me\n\t\t\tin, but I'm going to tell you the truth.\n\t\t\tThere are things in this world that go way\n\t\t\tbeyond human understanding, things that\n\t\t\tcan't be explained and that most people don't\n\t\t\twant to know about anyway.  That's where we\n\t\t\tcome in.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tSo what are you saying?  That the world of\n\t\t\tthe supernatural is your special province?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I guess I'm just saying that shit happens\n\t\t\tand somebody has to deal with it.\n\nThe spectators in the gallery cheer and the judge gavels for order.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t WIPE TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - LATER\n</b>\nThe trial is nearing its end.  The Judge calls on Louis to make his\nsummation.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tDoes the counsel for the defense wish to\n\t\t\tmake any final arguements?\n\nLouis rises.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tYour honor, may I approach the bench?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (impatient)\n\t\t\tYes.\n\nLouis crosses to the judge's bench.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the judge)\n\t\t\tCan I have some of your water?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tGet on with it, counselor!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (scared)\n\t\t\tYour honor, ladies and gentlemen of the --\n\t\t\t\t (he remembers there's no\n\t\t\t\t jury)\n\t\t\taudience.  I don't think it's fair to call\n\t\t\tmy clients frauds.  Okay, the blackout was\n\t\t\ta big problem for everybody.  I was stuck in\n\t\t\tan elevator for about three hours and I had\n\t\t\tto go to the bathroom the whole time, but I\n\t\t\tdon't blame them because once I turned into\n\t\t\ta dog and they helped me.  Thank you.\n\nHe goes back to the defense table and sits down.  Stantz and Spengler\nhang their heads.  Venkman pats Louis on the back.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Louis)\n\t\t\tWay to go.  Concise and to the point.\n\n<b>JUDGE\n</b>\nHe stares at Louis, astonished at his summation.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tThat's it?  That's all you have to say?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tDid I forget something?\n\nHe searches through a disorderly pile of notes.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tThat was unquestionably the worst\n\t\t\tpresentation of a case I've ever heard in a\n\t\t\tcourt of law!  I ought to cite you for\n\t\t\tcontempt and have you disbarred.  As for\n\t\t\tyour clients, Peter Venkman, Raymond Stantz\n\t\t\tand Egon Spengler, on the charges of\n\t\t\tconspiracy, fraud and the willful destruction\n\t\t\tof public property, I find you guilty on all\n\t\t\tcounts.  I order you to pay fines in the\n\t\t\tamount of $25,000 each and I sentence you to\n\t\t\teighteen months in the city correctional\n\t\t\tfacility at Ryker's Island.\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe sees the activity in the jar\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tUh-oh, she's twitchin'.\n\n<b>THE BENCH\n</b>\nThe Judge continues\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tAnd on a more personal note, let me go on\n\t\t\trecord as saying that there is no place in\n\t\t\tdecent society for fakes, charlatans and\n\t\t\ttricksters like you who prey on the\n\t\t\tgullibility of innocent people.  You're\n\t\t\tbeneath the contempt of this court.  And\n\t\t\tbelieve me, if my hands were not tied by the\n\t\t\tunalterable fetters of the law, a law which\n\t\t\thas become in my view far too permissive and\n\t\t\tinadequate in it's standards of punishment,\n\t\t\tI would invoke the tradition of our\n\t\t\tillustrious forebearers, reach back to a\n\t\t\tsterner, purer justice and have you burned\n\t\t\tat the stake!\n\nHe hammers the bench with his gravel as the gallery erupts noisily.  Then\nhe feels a LOW RUMBLING TREMOR in the courtroom.\n\n<b>SPECIMEN JAR\n</b>\nThe slime starts to pulse and swell, pushing up the lid on the jar.\n\n<b>DEFENSE TABLE\n</b>\nStantz anticipates big trouble.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tUnder the table, boys!\n\nThe Ghostbusters duck under the defense table.\n\n<b>LOUIS\n</b>\nHe stands up and looks around fearfully.\n\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - GHOST BATTLE - DAY\n</b>\nEverybody is silent now as the rumbling increases.  All eyes turn to the\nexhibit table.  Then suddenly all Hell breaks loose as TWO FULL-TORSO\nAPPARITIONS explode out of the specimen jar.\n\n<b>JUDGE\n</b>\nHe looks up in terror at the two huge apparitions looming above him and\nrecognizes them immediately.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (in horror)\n\t\t\tOh, my God!  The Scoleri Brothers!\n\n<b>SCOLERI BROTHERS\n</b>\nBig in life, even bigger in death, the ghostly Scoleri brothers seem ten\nfeet tall.  They are strapped into electric chairs and on their heads are\nmetal electrocution caps with live, sparking electrical wires still\nattached.  Twenty-five hundred volts of electricity shoot through their\nbodies as they start to break free of the leather restraints, trying to\nget at the Judge.\n\n<b>JUDGE\n</b>\nHolding his gavel like a pitiful weapon, he crawls over to the defense\ntable where Venkman, Stantz and Spengler are now crouched, assessing the\nspectral intruders.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (terrified)\n\t\t\tYou've got to do something!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWho are they?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tThey're the Scoleri Brothers.  I tried them\n\t\t\tfor murder.  They were electrocuted up at\n\t\t\tOssining in '48.  Now they want to kill me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tMaybe they just want to appeal.\n\n<b>SCOLERI BROTHERS\n</b>\nThey break loose from the electric chairs, then turn toward the defense\ntable and BLAST it with HIGH-VOLTAGE FINGER-LIGHTNING.\n\n<b>PROSECUTOR\n</b>\nShe sprints for the door, pursued by one of the Scoleri brothers.\n\n<b>GHOSTBUSTERS\n</b>\nThey jump to safety behind the rail of the jury box, pulling the Judge\nwith them.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThese boys aren't playing around.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (desperately)\n\t\t\tYou've got to stop them.  Please!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (thinking like a lawyer)\n\t\t\tViolating a judicial restraining order could\n\t\t\texpose my clients to serious criminal\n\t\t\tpenalties.  As their attorney I'd have to\n\t\t\tadvise them against it.\n\n<b>SCOLERI BROTHERS\n</b>\nThey start punching through the jury box.\n\n<b>JUDGE\n</b>\nHe is just about hysterical with fear.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tAll right!  All right!  I'm recinding the\n\t\t\torder.  Case dismissed!!\n\t\t\t\t (he pounds his gavel on\n\t\t\t\t the floor)\n\t\t\tNow do something!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tLet's go to work, boys.\n\nWith that, the Ghostbusters leap over the rail of the jury box and dash\nacross the courtroom to the exhibit table where their proton packs were\nbeing displayed as evidence.  They strap them on hastily as the Brothers\ncontinue tearing up the seats looing for the Judge.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (slinging the pack onto\n\t\t\t\t his back)\n\t\t\tGeez, I forgot how heavy these things are.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (grabbing other gear)\n\t\t\tOkay, let's heat 'em up!\n\nThey flip the power switches on their packs and draw their particle\nthrowers.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tAll right, throwers.  Set for full neutronas\n\t\t\ton stream.\n\nThey switch on their throwers and turn to face the raging phantasms.\n\n<b>SCOLERI BROTHERS\n</b>\nThey are just about to wipe out the Judge when a loud shout distracts\nthem.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHey!  Why don't you pick on someone your own\n\t\t\tsize?\n\nThe towering ghosts turn in a fury and raise their arms, ready to shoot\nlightning at their new adversaries.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the others)\n\t\t\tOn my signal, boys.  Open 'em up -- Now!\n\nThey all pull their triggers and the wands EXPLODE with incredible\npowerful STREAMS OF ENERGY, doing even more damage to the courtroom.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSpengs, take the door.  Ray, let's try and\n\t\t\twork them down and into the corner.\n\nWorking as a team, they gradually confine the Scoleri Brothers with the\nstreams, forcing them closer and closer to the traps Ray has set out on\nthe floor.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWatch it!  I'm coming under you, Pete.\n\nThey circle around the two ghosts, prodding them with the streams while\nducking the lightning bolts shooting from their fingers.  Finally, Ray\nsees his chance and pops open the traps which emit inverted pyramids of\nlight energy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tSteady -- watch your streams -- easy now --\n\t\t\tVenky, bring him left -- Spengy, pull him\n\t\t\tdown -- trapping -- trapping -- now!\n\nHe stomps on a control pedal and the Scoleri Brothers are drawn into the\ntraps which snap shut.\n\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - TRAPS - DAY\n</b>\nLEDs on the outer casing start flashing, indicating the presence of a\nghost inside each trap.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (checking the trap)\n\t\t\tOccupado.\n\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - JUDGE - DAY (AFTER GHOST BATTLE)\n</b>\nHe sticks his head up slowly from behind the debris of his bench and\nlooks around in total amazement.\n\n<b>LOUIS\n</b>\nHe crawls out from under a chair.  Reporters and spectators get back on\ntheir feet and start buzzing about the incredible manifestation.\n\n<b>PROSECUTOR\n</b>\nShe's lying on the floor, attended to by the Bailiff and the Court Clerk.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Prosecutor)\n\t\t\tBrilliant summation.\n\n<b>GHOSTBUSTERS\n</b>\nThey break into big smiles as photographers start snapping pictures of\nthem standing in the wrecked courtroom.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tCase closed, boys.  We're back in business.\n\nThe spectators cheer and applaud.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  FIREHOUSE - DAY\n</b>\nThe old, dilapidated Ghostbusters logo comes crashing to the ground,\ndropped by a pair of workmen on a ladder, and the new logo is hoisted\ninto place over the main entrance.  It's just like the original \"No\nGhosts\" logo, but in the new one the ghost in the red circle is holding\nup two fingers.  Venkman enters the firehouse.\n\n<b>INT.  BEDROOM SET (TV COMMERCIAL - FULL SCREEN VIDEO) - NIGHT\n</b>\nA man and his wife are lying in bed reading.  The man is played by Louis\nTully and JANINE MELNITZ, the Ghostbusters' once and future receptionist,\nis playing his wife.  They are both terrible actors.  Suddenly, a ghost,\nactually a very bad puppet on a wire, floats through the bedroom.  Janine\nsees it and screams.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tWhat is it, honey?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tIt's that darn ghost again!  I don't know\n\t\t\twhat to do anymore.  He just won't leave us\n\t\t\talone.  I guess we'll just have to move.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tDon't worry.  We're not moving.  He is.\n\nHe picks up the phone.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tWho are you going to call?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with a wink)\n\t\t\tGhostbusters.\n\nAs he starts to dial, the CAMERA PULLS BACK to reveal the Ghostbusters\nstanding in the bedroom.  Their acting isn't much better than Louis and\nJanine's.\n\n<b>GHOSTBUSTERS\n</b>\nStantz speaks directly TO the CAMERA.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI'm Ray --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm Peter --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI'm Egon --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tAnd we're the ...\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tALL\n</b>\t\t\t\t (together)\n\t\t\tGhostbusters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThat's right -- Ghostbusters.  We're back\n\t\t\tand we're better than ever with twice the\n\t\t\tknow-how and twice the particle-power to\n\t\t\tdeal with all your supernatural elimination\n\t\t\tneeds.\n\nDuring his speech, Winston can be seen in the b.g. pretending to trap the\nfake ghost.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tCareful, Winston.  He's a mean one.\n<b>\t\t\t\t (TO CAMERA)\n</b>\t\t\tAnd to celebrate our grand reopening, we're\n\t\t\tgiving you twice the value with our special\n\t\t\thalf-price 'Welcome Back' service plan.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHold on, Ray!  Half-price!  Have you gone\n\t\t\tcrazy?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI guess so, Pete, because that's not all.\n\t\t\tTell them what else we've got, Egon.\n\nSpengler actually mouths everyone else's dialogue along with them,\nwaiting for his cue.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tYou mean the Ghostbusters hot beverage\n\t\t\tthermal mugs and free balloons for the kids?\n\nHe holds up a mug and a limp, uninflated balloon.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou bet.\n\nAs Stantz wraps it up, SUPERS APPEAR at the bottom of the SCREEN: FULLY\n<b>BONDED - FULLY LICENSED - SE HABLA ESPANOL.\n</b>\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b><b>\t\t\t\t (TO CAMERA)\n</b>\t\t\tSo don't wait another minute.  Make your\n\t\t\tsupernatural problem our supernatural problem.\n\t\t\tCall now, because we're still --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tALL\n</b>\t\t\t\t (in unison, mechanically)\n\t\t\t-- Ready to believe you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  JACK HARDEMEYER'S OFFICE - DAY\n</b>\nHardemeyer is watching the Ghostbusters commercial on a TV in his office.\nHe bangs his fist on his desk and angrily switches OFF the TV.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  FIREHOUSE - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThe garage door opens and the new improved ECTOMOBILE comes ROARING out\nonto the street, its ghostly SIREN MOANING and WAILING.  Louis comes\nrunning out after it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - DAY\n</b>\nLouis comes back into the garage bay and stops as he smells a foul odor.\nHe sniffs around, following the smell.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh, geez, smells like somebody took a really\n\t\t\tbig --\n\nHe freezes.\n\n<b>INT. OFFICE AREA - LOUIS'S POV\n</b>\nSlimer, a spud-like green ghost, is hovering over Louis's desk, scarfing\ndown Louis's bag lunch.  Slimer looks up and sees Louis.\n\n<b>SLIMER AND LOUIS\n</b>\nThey both scream and run off in opposite directions.\n\n<b>SLIMER\n</b>\nHe passes right through a wall and disappears.\n\n<b>LOUIS\n</b>\nHe runs right into a wall, recovers and exits in a hurry.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (screaming)\n\t\t\tHelp!  There's a thing!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  CENTRAL PARK RESERVOIR - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nRunners of both sexes and all ages are huffing and puffing as they jog\nalong the track that circles the reservoir.  One of the runners looks\nbehind him at the sound of APPROACHING FOOTFALLS and screams.\n\n<b>GHOSTLY JOGGER\n</b>\nA ghost jogger is loping along at a pretty fair pace.  Other runners\nstumble and run screaming into the park as he passes them.  Seemingly\noblivious to the effect he's having, the ghost jogger puts two fingers to\nhis skeletal neck and checks his watch as if taking his pulse.\n\n<b>EXT. CLEARING IN PARK - DAY (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nVenkman is sitting on a park bench near the jogging track reading the\nnewspaper, eating a donut and drinking coffee from a Styrofoam cup.\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe's sitting on a bench opposite Venkman's, casually watching the jogging\ntrack.\n\n<b>GHOST JOGGER\n</b>\nHe approaches the benches where the Ghostbusters are waiting.  As the\nghost jogger passes the benches, Stantz and Venkman simultaneously hit\nconcealed control buttons.  A ghost trap buried in the track throws up a\nglowing inverted pyramid and catches the ghost jogger in mid-stride.\nStantz and Venkman close the trap and capture the ghost jogger.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (checking his watch)\n\t\t\tYou know he ran that last lap in under six\n\t\t\tminutes?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIf he wasn't dead he'd be an Olympic\n\t\t\tprospect.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  JEWELRY STORE - DAY\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters come out carrying smoking traps, wearing cheap\ndime-store Santa Claus hats.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the client)\n\t\t\tMerry Christmas!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  FIFTH AVENUE - ORREFORS GLASS STORE - DAY\n</b>\nThe Ectomobile is parked at the curb and a curious crowd looks on as the\nGhostbusters enter the store.\n\n<b>INT.  ORREFORS GLASS STORE - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n</b>\nAll the precious crystal is floating in the air, several feet above the\nglass shelves and display tables.  Stantz and Venkman are talking to the\nmanager while Winston and Spengler set up an array of electronic devices\npositioned in each corner of the store.\n\nOn a signal from Stantz, Spengler and Winston switch on the devices which\nthrow laser-type beams around the perimeter of the store.  The manager\nwatches in horror as all the GLASSWARE suddenly drops out of the air,\nSMASHES through the GLASS SHELVES and SHATTERS on the display tables.\nThere is a long pregnant pause.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the manager)\n\t\t\tSo will that be cash or a check?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - RESTORATION STUDIO - DAY (LATE AFTERNOON)\n</b>\nEveryone else has gone home.  Dana is cleaning her brushes and putting\nher supplies away.\n\n<b>VIGO PAINTING - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n</b>\nVigo turns his head and watches Dana as she walks past the painting.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe stops, vaguely aware of the movement, and looks up curiously at the\npainting.  As she starts to walk on, Vigo looks at her again, but Dana\nturns suddenly and catches the movement.  Frightened now, she hastily\nleaves the studio.\n\n<b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - DAY\n</b>\nLouis is lurking behind a pillar, peeking out at the office area.  We PAN\nDOWN TO the floor and see a foot pedal, then PAN ALONG the cord TO a\nghost trap sitting on Louis's desk.  Hanging from strings over the desk\nare several pieces of Kentucky fried chicken.\n\n<b>WALL\n</b>\nSlimer partially emerges and furtively sniffs the air, then spots the\nchicken bait.  He licks his lips, materializes completely and flies to\nthe chicken.\n\n<b>LOUIS\n</b>\nHis eyes light up and he stomps the foot pedal.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouts)\n\t\t\tGotcha!\n\n<b>DESK\n</b>\nThe trap pops open and shoots out a powerful cone of energy.  Slimer\ndodges it and escapes as a big section of the ceiling comes crashing down\non Louis's desk.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (seeing the damage)\n\t\t\tUh-oh.\n\nHe slinks off, defeated.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MANHATTAN MUSEUM OF ART - SECURITY DESK - DAY\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters commercial is playing on a portable TV on the security\ndesk.  Rudy, the Security Guard, is reading a National Enquirer with a\ngiant front-page headline: GHOSTBUSTERS SAVE JUDGE.  Venkman enters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm looking for Dana Barrett.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSECURITY GUARD\n</b>\t\t\tRoom 304 -- Restorations.\n\t\t\t\t (recognizing him)\n\t\t\tHey!  Dr. Venkman -- 'World of the Psychic.'\n\t\t\tI'm a big, big fan.  That used to be one of\n\t\t\tmy two favorite shows.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (flattered)\n\t\t\tThanks.  What's the other one?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSECURITY GUARD\n</b>\t\t\t'Bass Masters.'  It's a fishing show.  Ever\n\t\t\tsee it?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, really great.  Take it easy.\n\nHe exits.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - RESTORATION STUDIO - DAY (MOMENTS LATER)\n</b>\nDana is working on a valuable Flemish still-life by Ver Meer.  Janosz is\nat the other end of the room, still working on the painting of Vigo.\nVenkman enters and sneaks up behind Dana.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (looking at the Ver Meer)\n\t\t\tSo this is what you do, huh?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (glad to see him)\n\t\t\tOh, hello, Peter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou're really good, you know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI didn't paint it.  I'm just cleaning it.\n\t\t\tIt's an original Ver Meer.  It's worth about\n\t\t\tten million dollars.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nHe turns his head and watches Venkman and Dana.\n\n<b>VENKMAN\n</b>\nUnaware that he's being watched, Venkman squints at the still life,\nholding up his thumb like he's seen artists do.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou know you can go to Art World and get\n\t\t\tthese huge sofa-size paintings for about\n\t\t\tforty-five bucks.\n\nHe starts looking around at the other artwork in the studio.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI'm sure you didn't come here just to talk\n\t\t\tabout art.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAs a matter of fact, I stopped by to tell\n\t\t\tyou that I haven't forgotten your problem\n\t\t\tand that we're still on the case.\n\nThey are interrupted by the sudden appearance of Janosz.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (smiling at Venkman)\n\t\t\tDana, aren't you going to introduce me to\n\t\t\tyour friend?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tOh, I'm sorry.  This is Peter Venkman.\n\t\t\tPeter, Janosz Poha.\n\nVenkman warily shakes his hand, trying to size him up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (avoiding his gaze)\n\t\t\tPleasure to meet you.  I've seen you on\n\t\t\ttelevision.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHow are you?\n\t\t\t\t (looking over at the Vigo\n\t\t\t\t painting)\n\t\t\tWhat's that you're working on, Johnny?\n\nJanosz winces at the nickname but lets it go.  Venkman and Dana cross to\nthe Vigo painting.  Janosz steps protectively in front of it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt's a painting I'm restoring for the new\n\t\t\tByzantine exhibition.  It's a self-portrait\n\t\t\tof Prince Vigo, the Carpathian.  He ruled\n\t\t\tmost of Carpathia and Moldavia in the 17th\n\t\t\tCentury.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (staring at the painting)\n\t\t\tToo bad for the Moldavians.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (defensive)\n\n\t\t\tHe was a very powerful magician.  A genius\n\t\t\tin many ways and quite a skilled painter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHe was also a lunatic and a genocidal madman.\n\t\t\tI hate this painting.  I've felt very\n\t\t\tuncomfortable since they brought it up from\n\t\t\tstorage.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, it's not the kind of thing you'd want\n\t\t\tto hang in the rec room.  You know what it\n\t\t\tneeds?\n\t\t\t\t (picking up a brush)\n\t\t\tA fluffy little white kitten in the corner.\n\nVenkman reaches toward the painting, but Janosz grabs his hand.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with forced good will)\n\t\t\tWe don't go around altering valuable\n\t\t\tpaintings, Dr. Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWell, I'd make an exception in this case if\n\t\t\tI were you.\n\nDana looks disapprovingly at Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Janosz)\n\t\t\tI'll let you get back to it.  Nice meeting\n\t\t\tyou.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tMy pleasure.\n\nVenkman and Dana cross back to her workspace.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (confidentially)\n\t\t\tI may be wrong, but I think you've got a\n\t\t\tlittle crush on this guy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tGood-bye, Peter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (dragging his feet)\n\t\t\tI'd like to stay, but I really don't have\n\t\t\ttime to hang around here.  I'll call you.\n\t\t\t\t (calls out to Janosz)\n\t\t\tLater, Johnny!\n\nHe exits.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nVigo turns his head and follows Dana as she returns to her workbench.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe stops, vaguely aware of the movement, and looks up curiously at the\npainting.  As she starts to walk on, Vigo looks at her again, but Dana\nturns suddenly and catches the movement.  Frightened now, she hastily\nleaves the studio.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - LIVING QUARTERS - CONTINUOUS ACTION - DAY\n</b>\nVenkman and Winston enter and find Stantz and Spengler at work in the lab\narea.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOh good, you're here.  Spengler and I have\n\t\t\tsomething really amazing to show you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Spengler)\n\t\t\tIt's not that thing you do with your\n\t\t\tnostrils, is it?\n\nStantz goes to the refrigerator, opens the freezer, rummages around among\nthe TV dinners and frozen pizza and pulls out a slime specimen in a\nTupperware container.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Venkman)\n\t\t\tWe've been studying the stuff that we took\n\t\t\tfrom the subway tunnel.\n\nHe pops the specimen jar in the microwave and lets it thaw for a minute.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAnd now you're going to eat it?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I'm just restoring it to its normal state.\n\nHe takes the specimen out of the microwave and pours some of it into a\nlarge Petri dish.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNow watch this.\n\nHe leans over the specimen and starts shouting at it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (simulating anger)\n\t\t\tYou worthless piece of slime!!\n\t\t\t\t (as the slime starts to\n\t\t\t\t twitch and glow)\n\t\t\tYou ignorant disgusting blob!!\n\n<b>SPECIMEN\n</b>\nIt bubbles and swells, changing color with each insult.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou foul, obnoxious muck!!\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe continues venting his rage on the slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI've seen some real crud in my time, but\n\t\t\tyou're a chemical disgrace!!\n\nThe specimen doubles its size and starts spilling over the rim of the\nPetri dish.\n\n<b>STANTZ AND SPENGLER\n</b>\nThey turn to Venkman for his reaction.  He's dumbfounded.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThis is what you do with your spare time?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (very excited)\n\t\t\tThis is an incredible breakthrough, Venkman.\n\t\t\tA psychoreactive substance!  Whatever this\n\t\t\tis, it clearly responds to human emotional\n\t\t\tstates.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t'Mood slime.'  We ought to bottle this stuff\n\t\t\tand sell it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWe've found it at every event site we've\n\t\t\tbeen to lately.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (poking at the slime)\n\t\t\tYou mean this stuff actually feeds on 'bad\n\t\t\tvibes'?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tLike a goat on garbage.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWe're running tests to see if we can get an\n\t\t\tequally strong positive reaction.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat kind of tests?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (a little embarrassed)\n\t\t\tWell, we sing to it, we talk to it, we say\n\t\t\tsupportive, nurturing things --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou're not sleeping with this stuff, are you?\n\nSpengler reacts as if he might be.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt really responds to music.\n\t\t\t\t (to Spengler)\n\t\t\tLet's calm it down.\n\nSpengler picks up a guitar and he and Stantz start singing \"Cumbaya\" to\nthe slime specimen.\n\n<b>SPECIMEN\n</b>\nIt stops bubbling and starts to shrink.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tDoes it have any favorites?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt likes all the sappy stuff: 'Cumbaya,'\n\t\t\t'Everything is Beautiful,' 'It's a Small\n\t\t\tWorld' -- but it loves Jackie Wilson.\n\nVenkman and Winston watch intently as Spengler spoons some of the\npsych-reactive slime onto an old toaster.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWatch this.\n\nStantz turns on a CASSETTE PLAYER and Jackie Wilson's \"HIGHER AND HIGHER\"\nBLASTS from the speakers.\n\n<b>TOASTER\n</b>\nIt shakes, spins and actually starts moving in time with the MUSIC.\n\n<b>VENKMAN\n</b>\nHe stares in disbelief at the dancing toaster as it shoots two pieces of\ntoast into the air and catches them without missing a beat.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI don't care what you say.  This could be a\n\t\t\tmajor Christmas gift item.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tRight, and the first time someone gets mad,\n\t\t\ttheir toaster will eat their hand.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo we'll put a warning on the label.\n\nStantz turns OFF the MUSIC and the toaster stops moving.  Venkman looks\nat the toaster and sticks his fingers in the slot.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the toaster)\n\t\t\tGo ahead.  I dare you.\n\nSuddenly, he yelps as if the toaster has actually bitten into his hand\nand won't let go.  The others jump in to help him, but Venkman laughs and\neasily withdraws his hand.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tJust kidding.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  DANA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT\n</b>\nDana brings Oscar into the bathroom and lays him on the bassinet.  She's\nwearing a robe over her nightgown, preparing to bathe the baby.  She\nturns the taps on the old claw-footed bathtub, checks the water\ntemperature, then turns away and starts to undress the baby.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (talking sweetly to the\n\t\t\t\t baby)\n\t\t\tLook at you.  I think we got more food on\n\t\t\tyour shirt than we got in your mouth.\n\n<b>BATHTUB\n</b>\nThe water pouring from the faucet changes to slime and settles at the\nbottom of the tub.  Dana reaches over and turns off the water without\nlooking into the tub.  When she turns away, both taps start to spin by\nthemselves and the tub flexes and bulges.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nStill unaware, she routinely reaches over and squirts some bubble bath\ninto the tub.\n\n<b>BATHTUB\n</b>\nThe rim of the tub puckers up and the sides convulse as if swallowing the\nbubble bath.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>She picks the baby up off the bassinet and turns to place him in the tub.\nShe is just about to lower him into the water when the tub starts to\nclose up around the baby like a hugh mouth.  Dana screams, snatches the\nbaby away and runs from the room clutching Oscar to her bosom as the\nbathtub convulses and vomits up buckets of slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - SAME NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nThe big open loft space is a chaotic clutter of mismatched furniture, old\nmagazines, books, tapes, and sports equipment.  Venkman is asleep on the\nfloor, still wearing his coat, scarf, hat and gloves, having collapsed\njust short of the bedroom.  The DOORBELL RINGS, he wakes up, lumbers to\nhis feet and answers it.  He opens the door and sees Dana standing there.\nShe is wearing only a nightgown under her coat and Oscar is naked,\nwrapped in a baby blanket.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (somewhat embarrassed to\n\t\t\t\t be there)\n\t\t\tI'm sorry.  Were you on your way out?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (surprised to see her)\n\t\t\tNo, I just got in -- a couple hours ago.\n\t\t\tCome on in.\n\t\t\t\t (noting her apparel)\n\t\t\tAre we having a pajama party?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (upset)\n\t\t\tPeter, the bathtub tried to eat Oscar.\n\nVenkman looks at her for a long moment.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou know, if anyone else told me that, I'd\n\t\t\thave serious doubts.  But coming from you,\n\t\t\tI can't honestly say I'm surprised.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI must be losing my mind.  At the museum\n\t\t\ttoday I could have sworn that terrible\n\t\t\tpainting of Vigo looked right at me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWho could blame him?  Were you wearing this\n\t\t\tnightgown?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (distraught)\n\t\t\tI don't know what to do anymore.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'll get Ray and Egon to check out the\n\t\t\tbathtub.  You better stay here.\n\nHe exits to the bathroom.  She looks around the loft, amazed at the\ndisorder.  Venkman comes back immediately with an old sweatshirt and\ntakes Oscar from her.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNow this kid has a serious nudity problem.\n\nHe spreads the sweatshirt out on the sofa, lays the baby on it and starts\ntying it around him like a diaper.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the baby)\n\t\t\tThis is Joe Namath's old number, you know.\n\t\t\tYou could get a lot of chicks with this.\n\t\t\tJust don't pee in it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tPeter, what about the bathtub?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (grabs the phone and dials)\n\t\t\tWe'll take care of that.\n\t\t\t\t (on the phone)\n\t\t\tRay, Pete.  Listen, get over to Dana's right\n\t\t\taway ... Her bathtub pulled a fast one --\n\t\t\ttried to eat the kid.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tIt was full of this awful pink ooze.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Ray)\n\t\t\tSounds like another slime job ... No,\n\t\t\tthey're all right.  They're here now ...\n\t\t\tRight ... Let me know.\n\nHe hangs up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThey're going over there right now.  You\n\t\t\tmight as well make yourself at home.  Let\n\t\t\tme show you around.\n\t\t\t\t (he crosses to the kitchen area)\n\t\t\tThis is the cuisine de maison --\n\nIt's an incredible mess. The sink is piled high with dirty dishes and the\ncounters are littered with all sorts of food trash.  He grabs a big open\nHefty bag on the floor and starts throwing garbage into it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (looking at the sink)\n\t\t\tWe may have to wash some of these if you get\n\t\t\thungry --\n\t\t\t\t (he looks in the fridge)\n\t\t\t-- but there's no food anyway so forget\n\t\t\tabout it.  I have all kinds of carry-out\n\t\t\tmenus if you feel like ordering.\n\nHe opens a drawer full of pizza, barbecue and Chinese food menus, then\ncrosses to the bathroom.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tBathroom's right here -- let me just tidy\n\t\t\tup a few things.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tPeter, this is very nice, but you don't have\n\t\t\tto do any of this, you know.\n\nHe goes into the bathroom and we hear WATER RUNNING, the TOILET FLUSHING\nand more items going into the Hefty bag.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\tThe shower works but it's a little tricky.\n\t\t\tThey're both marked \"Hot.\"  It takes a little\n\t\t\tpractice, but at least this one won't try\n\t\t\tand eat you.\n\nHe comes out of the bathroom with the now-loaded Hefty bag over his\nshoulder.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tBe careful on that sofa -- it's a butt-biter.\n\t\t\tBut the bed's good and I just changed the\n\t\t\tsheets so if you get tired, feel free.  In\n\t\t\tfact, I think you should definitely plan on\n\t\t\tspending the night here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tReally?  And how would we handle the sleeping\n\t\t\tarrangements?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tFor me it's best if I sleep on my side and\n\t\t\tyou spoon up right behind me with your arms\n\t\t\taround me.  If we go the other way I'm\n\t\t\tafraid your hair will be getting in my face\n\t\t\tall night.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHow about you on the sofa and me in bed with\n\t\t\tthe baby.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOr we could do that.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThank you.\n\t\t\t\t (she picks up Oscar)\n\t\t\tPoor baby.  I think I should put him down\n\t\t\tnow.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'll put him down for you.\n\t\t\t\t (taking the baby)\n\t\t\tYou are way too short!  And your belly-button\n\t\t\tsticks out!  You're nothing but a burden to\n\t\t\tyour poor mother!\n\nVenkman carries the baby into the bedroom leaving Dana in the living\nroom, feeling more relaxed and a lot safer.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM - DAY (NEXT MORNING)\n</b>\nVenkman is waiting in front of the building as ECTO-2 pulls up and\nStantz, Spengler and Winston get out and report on Dana's apartment.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDid you find anything at Dana's?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNothing.  Just some mood-slime residue in\n\t\t\tand around the bathtub.  But we did turn up\n\t\t\tsome interesting stuff on this Vigo character\n\t\t\tyou mentioned.  I found the name Vigo the\n\t\t\tCarpathian in Leon Zundinger's Magicians,\n\t\t\tMartyrs and Madmen.  Listen to this:\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reads from xerox of entry)\n\t\t\t\"Vigo the Carpathian, born 1505, died 1610 --\"\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tA hundred and five years?  He really hung\n\t\t\ton, didn't he.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tAnd he didn't die of old age either.  He was\n\t\t\tpoisoned, stabbed, shot, hung, stretched,\n\t\t\tdisemboweled, drawn and quartered.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tI guess he wasn't too popular at the end\n\t\t\tthere.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tNo, not exactly a man of the people.\n\t\t\t\t (reads)\n\t\t\t\"Also known as Vigo the Cruel, Vigo the\n\t\t\tTorturer, Vigo the Despised, and Vigo the\n\t\t\tUnholy.\"\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThis guy was a bad monkey.  He dabbled in\n\t\t\tall the Black Arts, and listen to this\n\t\t\tprophecy.  Just before his head died, his\n\t\t\tlast words were, \"Death is but a door, time\n\t\t\tis but a window.  I'll be back.\"\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThat's it?  \"I'll be back?\"\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tIt's a rough translation from the Moldavian.\n\nThey enter the museum carrying their monitoring equipment.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - SECURITY DESK - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nRudy the guard looks up in surprise as the Ghostbusters enter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tRUDY\n</b>\t\t\tHey, Dr. Venkman.  What's going on?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWe're just going up to Restorations for a\n\t\t\tminute.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tRUDY\n</b>\t\t\tOh, I can't let you do that.  Mr. Poha told\n\t\t\tme not to let you up there anymore.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with mock seriousness)\n\t\t\tOkay, we were trying to keep this quiet but\n\t\t\tI think you can be trusted.  Tell him, Ray.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (very official)\n\t\t\tMister, you have an Ecto-paritic,\n\t\t\tsubfusionary flux in this building.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tRUDY\n</b>\t\t\tWe got a flux?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tYou got a flux and a half.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNow if you don't want to be the --\n\t\t\t\t (he counts)\n\t\t\t-- fifth person ever to die in meta-shock\n\t\t\tfrom a planar rift, I suggest you get down\n\t\t\tbehind that desk and don't move until we\n\t\t\tgive you the signal \"Stabilize -- All Clear.\"\n\nRudy gulps and starts to hunker down behind the desk as the Ghostbusters\nhead upstairs.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - RESTORATION STUDIO - DAY (MOMENTS LATER)\n</b>\nJanosz is working on the Vigo painting when the Ghostbusters enter.  He\nrushes over and stops them at the door.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tDr. Venkman?  Dana is not here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tThen why have you come?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWe got a major creep alert and we're just\n\t\t\tgoing down the list.  Your name was first.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Spengler and Winston)\n\t\t\tLet's sweep it, boys.\n\nThey deploy and start scanning the studio with their monitoring devices.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Janosz)\n\t\t\tYou know, I never got to ask you.  Where you\n\t\t\tfrom, Johnny?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (nervous)\n\t\t\tThe Upper West Side.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (consulting his PKE meter)\n\t\t\tThis entire room is extremely hot, Peter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tWhat exactly are you looking for, Dr. Venkman?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWe'll know when we find it.  You just sit\n\t\t\ttight.  This won't take long.\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nUsing the Giga-meter, he traces a strong psychomagnetheric reading to\nthe painting of Vigo in the alcove at the end of the studio.  Venkman\ncomes up behind him with Janosz right on his heels.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThis is the one that looked at Dana.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt must be the chemical fumes in the studio.\n\t\t\tPeople start imagining things --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (interrupts)\n\t\t\tI'm going to rule out the glue-sniffing\n\t\t\ttheory.  If she says it looked at her, it\n\t\t\tlooked at her.\n\t\t\t\t (to Vigo)\n\t\t\tHey, you!  Vigie!  Look at me.  I'm talking\n\t\t\tto you.  Hey!  Look at me when I'm talking\n\t\t\tto you.\n\nThey watch the painting for any sign of movement.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nHis eyes stare lifelessly into the distance.\n\n<b>STANTZ AND VENKMAN\n</b>\nVenkman starts shooting Polaroids of Vigo.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Vigo)\n\t\t\tBeautiful, beautiful.  Work with me, baby.\n\t\t\tJust have fun with it.\n\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tOkay, he's playing it cool.  Let's finish\n\t\t\tup and get out of here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI'll get one more reading.\n\nVenkman walks off leaving Stantz alone with the painting.  Stantz scans\nthe painting with the Giga-meter until his eyes meet Vigo's.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nHis eyes seems to burn right through to the depths of Stantz's soul.\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe stands there transfixed, unable to look away, as a strange and subtle\ntransformation occurs within him.  Winston comes up behind him and breaks\nthe spell.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (looking at the painting)\n\t\t\tNow that's one ugly dude.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (coming back to his senses)\n\t\t\tHuh?  What?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tYou finished here?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (distracted)\n\t\t\tWhat?  Yeah.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tAre you all right?  You coming down with\n\t\t\tsomething?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I'm fine.  I just got light-headed for\n\t\t\ta second there.  Let's go.\n\nThey head for the door.\n\n<b>JANOSZ\n</b>\nHe escorts the Ghostbusters to the door.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tSo you see, everything is in order, is it\n\t\t\tnot?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNot.  Don't leave town and report any change\n\t\t\tin your address to the proper authorities.\n\t\t\tWe'll be back.\n\nThey exit.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters cross to ECTO-2.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tThere's definitely something going on in\n\t\t\tthat studio.  The PKE levels were max-plus\n\t\t\tand the Giga-meter was showing all red.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tI'd put my money on that Vigo character.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, that's a safe bet.\n\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tYou and Spengman see what else you can dig\n\t\t\tup on Vigo and this little weasel Poha.\n\t\t\tThose two were made for each other.\n\n<b>INT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters are driving back to the firehouse.  Stantz is at the\nwheel.  His eyes are vacant, he seems distracted and very tense.  Stantz\nswerves suddenly and HONKS the horn angrily.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to another driver)\n\t\t\tIdiot!\n\t\t\t\t (honking)\n\t\t\tMove it, you jerk!\n\nVenkman and Winston exchange surprised looks.\n\n<b>EXT.  STREET - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nStantz drives extremely fast, HONKING vindictively, weaving dangerously\nthrough traffic.\n\n<b>INT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nWinston looks at Ray, concerned.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tGoing a little fast, aren't we, Ray?\n\nStantz turns on him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (viciously)\n\t\t\tAre you telling me how to drive?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I just thought --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWell don't think!\n\nHe HONKS again and tromps hard on the accelerator.\n\n<b>EXT.  STREET - DAY (CONTINUOUS)\n</b>\nEcto-2 is now barreling down the avenue.  Pedestrians leap to safety as\nStantz runs a red light.\n\n<b>INT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThey hang on to the safety straps as Stantz continues his maniacal ride.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Stantz, really worried\n\t\t\t\t now)\n\t\t\tAre you crazy, man?  You're going to kill\n\t\t\tsomebody!\n\nStantz looks at him and smile demonically.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I'm going to kill everybody!\n\nHe swerves off the road.\n\n<b>EXT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe car heads right for a big tree.\n\n<b>INT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nAt the last possible moment, Winston cold-cocks Stantz, grabs the wheel\nand steps across to stomp on the brakes.\n\n<b>EXT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe car skids into the tree and stops.  The Ghostbusters stumble out\ndazed and shaken, but unhurt.  Stantz rubs his eyes and looks at the\nothers, completely at a loss.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (himself again)\n\t\t\tWhat happened?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou just picked up three penalty points on\n\t\t\tyour driver's license.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tAre you all right?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, I guess so.  It was the strangest\n\t\t\tthing.  I knew what I was doing but I\n\t\t\tcouldn't stop.  This really terrible feeling\n\t\t\tcame over me and -- I don't know -- I just\n\t\t\tfelt like driving into that tree and ending\n\t\t\tit all.  Whew!  Sorry, boys.\n\nThey inspect the damage to the car.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (confidentially, to\n\t\t\t\t Spengler)\n\t\t\tWatch him, Egon.  Don't even let him shave.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThere's a KNOCK at the front door, a key turns in the lock, and Venkman\nenters somewhat tentatively holding a bouquet of flowers and a small\nsuitcase of Dana's.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (calls out)\n\t\t\tI'm home!\n\nHe looks around the large open loft.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to himself)\n\t\t\tI knew it.  She cleaned.\n\nHe hears the SHOWER RUNNING and crosses to the bathroom.  The door is\nhalf-open and he can see Dana in the shower (tastefully blurred) through\nthe transparent vinyl curtain.  He closes the bathroom door and looks at\nthe baby asleep on the bed, surrounded by pillows to prevent him rolling\noff.  Then he turns and bumps into Dana who's just coming out of the\nbathroom wrapped in a towel.  She jumps back into the bathroom.\n\nShe comes out again, this time wearing a robe.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAre you all squeaky clean now?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (humoring him)\n\t\t\tYes, I'm very clean.  Did they find anything\n\t\t\tat my apartment?\n\nShe squeezes past him into the bedroom and closes the door.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (through the door)\n\t\t\tNothing.  They stayed there all night, went\n\t\t\tthrough your personal stuff, made a bunch of\n\t\t\tlong-distance phone calls and cleaned out\n\t\t\tyour refrigerator.  And didn't find anything.\n\nDana opens the bedroom door.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThey didn't find anything?  In the bathtub\n\t\t\t... the pink ooze ... nothing?  So, what do\n\t\t\tI do now?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNow you get dressed and we go out.  I got a\n\t\t\tbabysitter and everything.  Trust me, you\n\t\t\tneed it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI'm not here to date.  I can't leave Oscar\n\t\t\tin a strange place with someone I don't know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tIt's Janine Melnitz, from my staff.  She's\n\t\t\tone of my most valuable employees.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tDoes she know anything about babies?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tJanine Melnitz, are you kidding?\n\t\t\t\t (handing her the flowers)\n\t\t\tDo I have a vase?  I brought some of your\n\t\t\tclothes.  Wear something intriguing.  I\n\t\t\tbrought along some interesting possibilities.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, but it's not a date.  It's a dinner.\n\nShe smiles and closes the door again.  He opens the closet and starts\nlooking for his good suit.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDid you happen to see some shirts on the\n\t\t\tfloor in here?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\tI put them in your hamper.  I thought they\n\t\t\twere dirty.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shaking his head)\n\t\t\tI have a hamper?  Next time ask me first,\n\t\t\tokay.  I have more than two grades of\n\t\t\tlaundry.  There're lots of subtle levels\n\t\t\tbetween clean and dirty.\n\nHe pulls some clothes out of the hamper and inspects them.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThese aren't so bad yet.  You just hang them\n\t\t\tup for a while and they're fine.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b><b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - RECEPTION AREA - EARLY EVENING\n</b>\nJanine covers her computer terminal and starts turning out the lights.\nThen she notices that the lights are still on upstairs.  She starts\nprimping and freshening up her makeup.\n\n<b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - LAB AREA - SAME TIME\n</b>\nLouis is strapping on a proton pack, preparing to deal with Slimer once\nand for all.  He's wearing a bicyclist's rearview mirror on a headband.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to himself)\n\t\t\tOkay, Stinky, this is it.  Showdown time.\n\t\t\tYou and me, pal.  You think you're smarter\n\t\t\tthan I am?  We'll see about that.\n\t\t\t\t (loud)\n\t\t\tOh, hello, Pizza Man!  Oh, two larges!  I\n\t\t\tonly ordered one.  Oh, pepperoni and\n\t\t\tpineapple.  My absolute favorite.  I guess\n\t\t\tI'll have to eat these both by myself.\n\n<b>THE CEILING\n</b>\nSlimer pokes his head through the ceiling and scans the room hanging\nupside down.\n\n<b>LOUIS\n</b>\nHe spots Slimer through the rearview mirror.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (quietly)\n\t\t\tOkay, let's boogie!\n\nHe whirls around and fires a proton stream at Slimer, slicing a burning a\ngash across the ceiling.\n\n<b>THE STAIRS\n</b>\nJanine comes up and ducks as a bolt of energy streaks across the room and\nstrikes the wall behind her.  Slimer disappears.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (embarrassed and apologetic)\n\t\t\tOh migod!  I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to do\n\t\t\tthat.  It was an accident.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tWhat are you doing up here?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI was trying to get that smelly green thing.\n\t\t\tThe guys asked me to help out.  I'm like the\n\t\t\tfifth Ghostbuster.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tWhy would you want to be a Ghostbuster if\n\t\t\tyou're already an accountant?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh, no, it's just if one of the guys calls\n\t\t\tin sick or gets hurt.\n\nLouis quickly slips off the proton pack and sets it down.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tHave you made any plans yet?  You know\n\t\t\ttomorrow is New Year's Eve.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I celebrate at the beginning of my\n\t\t\tcorporate tax year which is March first.\n\t\t\tThat way I beat the crowds.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tThat's very practical.  I hate going out on\n\t\t\tNew Year's Eve, too.\n\nThere is an awkward silence between them and Janine starts to leave.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tWell, good night, Louis.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on an impulse)\n\t\t\tJanine, do you feel like maybe getting\n\t\t\tsomething to eat on the way home?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tI'd like to, but I told Dr. Venkman I'd\n\t\t\tbabysit.\n\t\t\t\t (seductively)\n\t\t\tDo you want to babysit with me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh, sure, that sounds great.\n\nThey exit.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nThere is a KNOCK at the door and Venkman goes to answer it.  He's dressed\nfor the evening and looking very dapper.\n\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - ENTRANCE HALL - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n</b>\nVenkman opens the door and finds Stantz, Spengler and Winston standing\nthere wearing over-the-hip rubberized waders, firemen's slickers, and\nminers' helmets, carrying tons of sensing devices, meters, collection\njars and photographic equipment.  They look like they're rigged out for a\nmajor spelunking expedition.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (ushering them in)\n\t\t\tDon't tell me, let me guess.  All-you-can-eat\n\t\t\tbarbecue rib night at the Sizzler?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWe're going down into the sewer system to\n\t\t\tsee if we can trace the source of the\n\t\t\tpsycho-reactive slime flow.  We thought you\n\t\t\tmight want to come along.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDarn it!  I wish I'd known you were going.\n\t\t\tI'm stuck with these damn dinner reservations.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tYou know, animals and lower life forms often\n\t\t\tanticipate major disasters.  Given the new\n\t\t\tmagnetheric readings we could see a tremendous\n\t\t\tbreeding surge in the cockroach population.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tRoach breeding?  Sounds better and better.\n\t\t\t\t (calls out)\n\t\t\tDana?  The boys are going down under the\n\t\t\tsewers tonight to look for slime.  Egon\n\t\t\tthinks there might even be some kind of big\n\t\t\troach-breeding surge.  Should we forget about\n\t\t\tdinner and go with them instead?\n\nDana steps into the living room looking very beautiful.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWow.\n\nDana looks curiously at their outfits.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHi.\n\nThey nod and wave back.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Ray and Egon)\n\t\t\tI think we're going to have to pass on the\n\t\t\tsewer trip, boys.  Let me know what you find\n\t\t\tout.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on his exit)\n\t\t\tOkay, but you're missing all the fun.\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nStantz, Spengler and Winston come down the stairs into the station,\nguided by a very old map of the underground city.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThis is it.  Van Horne Station.  Right where\n\t\t\tthe old transit map said it would be.\n\nThey cross to the edge of the platform and look into the river of slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tLet's get a sounding on the depth of that\n\t\t\tflow.\n\nStantz has a long, coiled, graduated cord with a plumb bob on the end of\nit attached to his utility belt.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tStand back.\n\nHe takes the cord in his hand, swings the plumb bob over his head and\ncasts it out into the middle of the flow.  The plumb bob sinks and\nSpengler reads the depth.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tSix feet -- seven -- eight --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThat's it.  It's on the bottom.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tNine feet -- ten --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tIs the line sinking?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tNo, the slime is rising.\n\nStantz looks down and notices the slime rising over the edge of the\nplatform and around his boots.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (alarmed)\n\t\t\tLet's get out of here, boys.\n\nHe starts to pull out the plumb line but it seems to be stuck.\n\nSpengler tries to help, but whatever is pulling on the cord is stronger\nthan all three of them.  As their unseen adversary pulls them closer and\ncloser to the edge, Stantz works desperately to unhook the cord from his\nbelt but finally just unhooks the whole belt.  Spengler lets go in time\nbut Winston doesn't.  He is jerked off his feet and into the slime flow.\nStantz and Spengler look at each other, summon their courage and jump in\nafter him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  ARMAND RESTAURANT - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nDana and Venkman are sitting at a table in an elegant restaurant nibbling\ncaviar and toasting with very expensive champagne.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (very intimate)\n\t\t\tHere's to -- us.\n\nShe sighs and drinks.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo -- are you making any New Year's\n\t\t\tresolutions?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI want to stop getting involved with men who\n\t\t\taren't good for me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDoes that start exactly at midnight tomorrow,\n\t\t\tor could you hold off for a few days maybe?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tFor one night in your life, do you think\n\t\t\tit's possible for us to be completely real?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAll right, you want to be real?  So tell me\n\t\t\twhy did you dump me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tOh, Peter, I didn't dump you.  I just had\n\t\t\tto protect myself.  You really weren't very\n\t\t\tgood for me, you know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm not even good for me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tWhy do you say things like that?  You're so\n\t\t\tmuch better than you know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThank you.  If I had that kind of support\n\t\t\ton a daily basis, I could definitely shape\n\t\t\tup by the turn of the century.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (already feeling the\n\t\t\t\t effects of the champagne)\n\t\t\tSo why don't you give me a jingle in the\n\t\t\tyear 2000?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tLet me jingle you right now.\n\nHe leans over to kiss her.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tMaybe I should call Janine.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDon't worry.  Janine has a very special way\n\t\t\twith children.\n\nThey kiss.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  APARTMENT - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nJanine is on the sofa doing her nails while Louis paces with the baby.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (looking around)\n\t\t\tI can't believe a person could actually live\n\t\t\tlike this.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the baby)\n\t\t\tSo these dwarfs had a limited partnership in\n\t\t\ta small mining operation and then one day a\n\t\t\tbeautiful princess came to live with them.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tIt's really not a bad place.  It just needs\n\t\t\ta woman's touch.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (continuing)\n\t\t\tSo they bartered room and board in exchange\n\t\t\tfor housekeeping services, which was a good\n\t\t\tdeal for all of them because then they didn't\n\t\t\thave to withhold tax and social security,\n\t\t\twhich I'm not saying is right but it's just\n\t\t\ta story, so I guess it's all right.  I can\n\t\t\tfinish this later if you're tired.\n\nLouis goes into the bedroom and puts the baby down.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tYou're really good with children, Louis.  I\n\t\t\tcan tell.\n\t\t\t\t (as he returns)\n\t\t\tWhy don't you come here and sit with me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOkay.\n\nHe sits stiffly beside her on the sofa.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (getting close)\n\t\t\tMotherhood is a very natural instinct for\n\t\t\tme.  I'd like to have a baby myself.\n\t\t\tWouldn't you?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (gulps)\n\t\t\tTonight?\n\n<b>EXT.  STREET - MANHOLE COVER - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nA manhole cover is dislodged and pushed up from below.  It slides away,\nand Winston crawls out of the manhole followed by Stantz and Spengler.\nThey are exhausted and covered with slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (uncharacteristically\n\t\t\t\t angry)\n\t\t\tNice going, Ray!  What were you trying to\n\t\t\tdo -- drown me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (unusually mean)\n\t\t\tLook, Zeddemore, it wasn't my fault you were\n\t\t\ttoo stupid to drop that line.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shoves him)\n\t\t\tYou better watch your mouth, man, or I'll\n\t\t\tpunch your lights out.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOh yeah?  Anytime, anytime.  Just go ahead\n\t\t\tand try it.\n\nSpengler steps between them with unprecedented aggression.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tIf you two are looking for a fight, you got\n\t\t\tone.\n\t\t\t\t (putting up his fists)\n\t\t\tWho wants it first?  Come on, Ray.  Try me,\n\t\t\tsucker.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (squaring off)\n\t\t\tButt out, you pencil-necked geek.  I've had\n\t\t\tit with you.\n\nThey grab each other and start to tussle.  Suddenly Spengler comes to his\nsenses and pulls them apart.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (forcefully)\n\t\t\tStrip!  Right now!  Get out of those clothes!\n\nHe starts yanking off his slicker and waders.  Bewildered, Stantz and\nWinston start doing the same.  Spengler helps pull off their clothes and\nthrows them into the open manhole.  Now wearing only long underwear, they\nseem to return to normal.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tWhat are we doing?  Ray, I was ready to kill\n\t\t\tyou.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tDon't you see?  It's the slime.  That stuff\n\t\t\tis like pure, concentrated evil.\n\nStantz looks around and sees that they are standing right in front of the\nmuseum.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tAnd it's all flowing right to this spot.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  ARMAND RESTAURANT ENTRANCE - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe MAITRE D' looks up in surprise as Stantz, Spengler and Winston enter\nthe restaurant wearing only long underwear.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAITRE D'\n</b>\t\t\t\t (intercepting them)\n\t\t\tCan I help you?\n\nStantz looks around and spots Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThat's all right, I see him.\n\nThey blow right by the Maitre d' who jumps back in horror as they pass.\n\n<b>VENKMAN\n</b>\nHe's just about to pour more champagne when he sees Ray, Egon and Winston\ncoming toward him through the restaurant.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (very excited)\n\t\t\tYou should've been there, Venkman.\n\t\t\tAbsolutely incredible!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, sorry I missed it.\n\t\t\t\t (noting their attire)\n\t\t\tI guess you guys didn't know about the dress\n\t\t\tcode here.  It's really kind of a coat and\n\t\t\ttie place.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt's all over the city, Pete -- well, under\n\t\t\tit actually.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tRivers of the stuff!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tAnd it's all flowing toward the museum.\n\nHe gestures excitedly and a big gob of slime flies across the room and\nlands on a well-dressed diner.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (calls out)\n\t\t\tSorry!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tMaybe we should discuss this somewhere else.\n\nVenkman notes the look of alarm on Dana's face and pulls his colleagues\naside.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (confidentially)\n\t\t\tBoys, listen.  You're scaring the straights.\n\t\t\tLet's save this until tomorrow, okay?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Venkman)\n\t\t\tThis won't wait until tomorrow, Venkman.\n\t\t\tIt's hot and it's ready to pop.\n\n<b>MAITRE D'\n</b>\nHe hurries through the restaurant with two city COPS right behind him and\nmakes straight for Venkman's table.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAITRE D'\n</b>\t\t\tArrest these men.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (recognizing them)\n\t\t\tHey!  It's the Ghostbusters.  You're out of\n\t\t\tuniform, gentlemen\n\nStantz suddenly realizes how ridiculous they look.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (self-conscious)\n\t\t\tUh -- well -- we had a little accident, but\n\t\t\tforget that.  We have to see the mayor as\n\t\t\tsoon as possible.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\tLook, Doc, why don't you just go home.\n\t\t\tYou'll get a good night's sleep and then you\n\t\t\tcan give the mayor a call in the morning.\n\t\t\tCome on.\n\nHe takes Stantz by the arm but Stantz resists.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWe're not going anywhere with you.  I told\n\t\t\tyou we have to see the mayor now.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (grabbing Stantz)\n\t\t\tI'm warning you.  You can come along\n\t\t\tpeaceably or --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (grabs the Cop)\n\t\t\tHey, don't be an idiot.  This is serious.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (angry)\n\t\t\tLook, pal, keep this up and you're going\n\t\t\twith them.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOh, yeah?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (has had enough)\n\t\t\tYeah, let's go.  You're all under arrest.\n\nThe Cop catches Venkman in an armlock and starts walking him out of the\nrestaurant.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tFinish your dessert -- it's already paid\n\t\t\tfor.  I'll call you.\n\nThey all exit, causing a major commotion among the other diners.\n\n<b>EXT.  ARMAND'S RESTAURANT - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe police car is parked right behind Ecto-2.  Spengler stops at the\npolice car and confronts the cops.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tLook, we're not drunk and we're not crazy.\n\t\t\tThis is a matter of vital importance.\n\nVenkman steps in and looks at the policemen's nametags.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\tWhat are you doing?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI just want to get your names right for when\n\t\t\tthe mayor asks us why we didn't let him know\n\t\t\tabout this sooner.\n\nThe Cops look at each other, uncertain about what to do.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (relenting)\n\t\t\tOkay, Doc.  You want to see the mayor, you\n\t\t\tgot it.  Follow us.\n\nThey head for their respective vehicles.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nLouis and Janine are on the sofa making out when Dana enters.  They jump\nup and start smoothing their clothes.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (embarrassed)\n\t\t\tOh, hello, Dana.  we were just -- we were --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI know what you were doing, Louis.  It's\n\t\t\tall right.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tHow was your date?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tTypical.  Peter was arrested.  Has he called?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tNo, nobody called.\n\nDana frowns.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tIs everything all right with Oscar?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tOh, he's fine.  He's such a good baby.  He\n\t\t\twas a little fussy at first, but we gave\n\t\t\thim a Freach bread pizza and he went right\n\t\t\tto sleep.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (relieved)\n\t\t\tOh, good.  I'll just check on him.\n\nShe crosses to the bedroom.\n\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S BEDROOM - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nDana looks at Oscar sleeping peacefully on the bed.  She starts to change\nclothes.\n\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nLouis and Janine aren't sure what to do.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tShould we go?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tI don't think we should leave her alone.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tYou're right.  We should stay.\n\nHe grabs Janine and they start making out again.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM RESTORATION STUDIO - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nJanosz stands before the painting of Vigo.  Vigo comes to life and\nrepeats the litany of his power.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tI, Vigo, the scourge of Carpathia --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (heard all this before)\n\t\t\tYes, the scourge --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\t-- the sorrow of Moldavia --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t-- the sorrow --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tI command you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (checking his watch)\n\t\t\tI await the word of Vigo.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tThe season of evil begins with the birth of\n\t\t\tthe new year.  Bring me the child that I\n\t\t\tmight live again.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (abjectly humble)\n\t\t\tLord Vigo, the mother, Dana, is fine and\n\t\t\tstrong.  I was wondering -- well, would it\n\t\t\tbe possible -- if I bring the baby, could I\n\t\t\thave the woman?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tSo be it.  On this the day of darkness, she\n\t\t\twill be ours, wife to you and mother to me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  CARL SCHURZ PARK - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nPreceded by a police car, Ecto-2 enters the small park on the East River\nat 88th Street and disappears into an underground entrance.  The CAMERA\nPANS UP to reveal Gracie Mansion, the residence of the Mayor of New York\nCity.\n\n<b>INT.  GRACIE MANSION - MOMENTS LATER\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters, now wearing police raincoats over their longjohns are\nushered through the house by a butler to a set of double oak doors.  The\nbutler knocks lightly, then opens the door to reveal the MAYOR sitting in\nfront of the fireplace in his well-appointed private study, flanked by\nJack Hardemeyer, both in tuxedoes.  The Ghostbusters enter.\n\n<b>INT.  STUDY - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n</b>\nThe Mayor is impatient and a little angry at having been pulled out of\nhis formal reception.  He frowns at their bizarre attire.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\tAll right -- the Ghostbusters.  I'll tell\n\t\t\tyou right now; I've got two hundred of the\n\t\t\theaviest campaign contributors in the city\n\t\t\tout there eating bad roast chicken waiting\n\t\t\tfor me to give the speech of my life.\n\t\t\tYou've got two minutes.  Make it good.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou get enough negative energy flowing in a\n\t\t\tdense environment like Manhattan, it starts\n\t\t\tto build up, and if we don't do something\n\t\t\tfast this whole place will blow like a frog\n\t\t\ton a hotplate.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tTell him about the toaster.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI don't think he's ready for the toaster.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shaking his head)\n\t\t\tBeing miserable and treating other people\n\t\t\tlike dirt is every New Yorker's God-given\n\t\t\tright.  What am I supposed to do -- go on\n\t\t\ttelevision and tell eight million people\n\t\t\tthey have to be nice to each other?  I'm\n\t\t\tsorry, none of this makes any sense to me,\n\t\t\tand if anything does happen we've got plenty\n\t\t\tof paid professionals to deal with it.  Your\n\t\t\ttwo minutes are up.  Good night, gentlemen.\n\nThe mayor exits, leaving the Ghostbusters to Hardemeyer.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (smirking)\n\t\t\tThat's quite a story.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, I think the Times might be interested,\n\t\t\tdon't you?  The Post might have a lot of fun\n\t\t\twith it, too.\n\nHardemeyer's eyes go cold and calculating.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tBefore you go running to the newspapers with\n\t\t\tthis, would you consider telling this slime\n\t\t\tthing to some people downtown?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNow you're talking.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  PARKVIEW HOSPITAL - PSYCHIATRIC WARD - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nAn attendant opens a locked door with a wire mesh window and the\nGhostbusters, in straitjackets, are led into the psych ward as Hardemeyer\nconfers with the chief PSYCHIATRIST.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (protesting)\n\t\t\tI'm telling you, we're not crazy.  He is!\n\n<b>HARDEMEYER\n</b>\nHe laughs off the remark.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Psychiatrist)\n\t\t\tThe mayor wants them kept under strict\n\t\t\tobservation for a few days.  We think\n\t\t\tthey're seriously disturbed and potentially\n\t\t\tdangerous.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPSYCHIATRIST\n</b>\t\t\tWe'll do whatever's necessary.\n\nHardemeyer shakes his hand and exits as the door slams shut on the\nGhostbusters.\n\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nLouis and Janine are watching an old rerun on TV, eating popcorn, while\nDana is stretched out on the other sofa.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (wishing they'd leave)\n\t\t\tYou know you really don't have to stay.\n\t\t\tPeter should be back soon.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh no, we don't mind.\n\nShe hears a little CRY from the nursery and sits up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tExcuse me.  I think Oscar is up.\n\nShe crosses to the bedroom.\n\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S BEDROOM - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nDana enters and immediately notices that the crib is empty and the window\nis open.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (screams)\n\t\t\tLouis!\n\nFrantic now, Dana rushes to the window and looks out, as Louis and Janine\ncome running in.\n\n<b>EXT.  WINDOW LEDGE - DANA'S POV - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nThe baby is standing out on the ledge at the corner of the building,\nfifty feet above the street, staring off into the distance as if he's\nwaiting for something.\n\n<b>EXT.  WINDOW LEDGE - NIGHT (ECLIPSE) (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nDana climbs out onto the ledge and starts inching slowly toward the baby.\nThen she stops as a miraculous apparition materializes.\n\n<b>LOUIS AND JANINE\n</b>\nThey lean out the window, gaping at the apparition.\n\n<b>EXT.  VENKMAN'S LEDGE - APPARITION\n</b>\nA sweet, kindly-looking English nanny appears, pushing a pram, strolling\non thin air parallel to the ledge high above the ground.  Her face looks\nremarkably like Janosz Poha's.  The nanny extends her hand to the BABY\nwho GURGLES sweetly as he reaches out to take it.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe watches in helpless horror.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (screams)\n\t\t\tNo!!\n\n<b>GHOST NANNY\n</b>\nShe picks up the baby and lays it gently in the pram, then turns and\nsmiles at Dana.  The smile turns to a hideous grin, then the nanny\nshrieks at Dana and takes off like a shot with the baby.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe watches the creature fly off with Oscar, then climbs back through\nthe window assisted by Louis and Janine.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (resolutely)\n\t\t\tLouis, you have to find Peter and tell him\n\t\t\twhat happened.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (confused and worried)\n\t\t\tWhere're you going?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tTo get my baby back.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM - NIGHT (A LITTLE LATER)\n</b>\nA taxi pulls up, Dana jumps out and rushes into the museum.  The moment\nthe door closes behind her, there is a loud THUNDERCLAP, the ground\ntrembles and a massive amount of slime erupts from around the base of\nthe museum and starts covering the walls, sealing her inside the\nbuilding.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  PARKVIEW PSYCHIATRIC - PADDED ROOM - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nVenkman, Stantz, Spengler and Winston are in a padded cell.  They are\nhandcuffed and the cuffs are chained to thick leather belts around their\nwaists.  Venkman stands there banging his head into the padded wall\nwhile the others try to explain the situation to a skeptical\nPsychiatrist.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWe think the spirit of Vigo the Carpathian\n\t\t\tis alive in a painting at the Manhattan\n\t\t\tMuseum.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPSYCHIATRIST\n</b>\t\t\tI see. And are there any other paintings in\n\t\t\tthe museum with bad spirits in them?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (impatient)\n\t\t\tYou're wasting valuable time!  We have reason\n\t\t\tto believe that Vigo is drawing strength from\n\t\t\ta psychomagnetheric slime flow that's been\n\t\t\tcollecting under the city.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPSYCHIATRIST\n</b>\t\t\tYes, tell me about the slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tIt's potent stuff.  We made a toaster dance\n\t\t\twith it, then a bathtub tried to eat his\n\t\t\tfriend's baby.\n\nThe psychiatrist looks at Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDon't look at me.  I think they're nuts.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM RESTORATION STUDIO - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nMoonlight streams through the skylight above, bathing the studio in\neerie white light.  Oscar is lying safely on a table in front of the\npainting of Vigo.  Dana enters cautiously and sees the baby.  Seeing no\none else about, she quickly sneaks down to the table and picks up the\nbaby, hugging hin tight, greatly relieved to find him unharmed and\nintact.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\tI knew you would come.\n\nStartled, Dana turns at the sound of his voice as Janosz steps out from\nbehind the Vigo painting.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (defiantly)\n\t\t\tWhat do you want with my baby?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo harm will come to the child.  You might\n\t\t\teven say it's a privilege.  He will be the\n\t\t\tvessel for the spirit of Vigo.  And you --\n\t\t\twell, you will be the mother of the ruler\n\t\t\tof the world.  Doesn't that sound nice?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tIf this is what the world will be like, I\n\t\t\tdon't want to live in it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (confidentially, indicating\n\t\t\t\t Vigo)\n\t\t\tI don't believe we have the luxury of choice.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tEverybody has a choice.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tNot in this case, my dear.  Take a look.\n\t\t\tThat's not Gainsborough's Blue Boy up there.\n\t\t\tHe's Vigo!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI don't care who he is.  He's not taking my\n\t\t\tbaby.\n\nDana walks quickly to the door but suddenly Oscar flies out of her arms,\nfloats across the room and lands lightly back in the cradle.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe turns and looks at Vigo, for the first time feeling his power.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou will see.  It's all for the best.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  PARKVIEW HOSPITAL - DAY (NEXT MORNING)\n</b>\nIt's the last day of the year and the sun is shining brightly.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  PARKVIEW PSYCHIATRIC WARD - DAY (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters are sitting in the dayroom, a dingy lounge for patients\nin the locked ward.  There is a television set, a Ping-Pong table and a\nfew tables and chairs.  Stantz is looking at the sky through the heavy\nwire mesh covering the windows.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThis is it. boys.  It's starting.  Shit-storm\n<b>\t\t\t2000.\n</b>\nVenkman is doing occupational therapy, weaving on a little hand-loom.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tIt better not start yet.  I'm trying to\n\t\t\tfinish my potholder before lunch.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tYou think all those predictions about the\n\t\t\tworld coming to an end in the 1990s are true?\n\nA PATIENT at the next table joins the discussion.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPATIENT\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with certainty)\n\t\t\t1997.  My dog told me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat kind of dog?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPATIENT\n</b>\t\t\tLabrador.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shakes his head)\n\t\t\tHabitual liars.  They can't help it.  It's\n\t\t\tin the breed.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  PARKVIEW HOSPITAL - EXAMINING ROOM - DAY (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nLouis is pleading with his cousin, SHERMAN TULLY, a doctor on the staff\nat Parkview.  He looks and sounds just like Louis.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tCome on, Sherm.  You're my cousin.  Do this\n\t\t\tfor me.  I'm begging you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI can't do it, Louis.  It isn't ethical.  I\n\t\t\tcould lose my license.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tWhy can't you just have them released?\n\t\t\tYou're a doctor.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm a dermatologist.  I can't write orders\n\t\t\ton the psych ward.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tSherman, I've done lots of favors for you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tLike what?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI got you out of those bad tax shelters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou were the one who got me in.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI fixed you up with Diane Troxler and she\n\t\t\tput out, didn't she?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, I had to give her free dermabrasion\n\t\t\tfor a year.  Forget it, Louis.  I could get\n\t\t\tin a lot of trouble.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI'm telling you, we're all going to be in\n\t\t\tbig trouble if we don't do something fast.\n\t\t\tThat ghost guy came and took my friend's\n\t\t\tbaby and we got to get it back.  It's just\n\t\t\ta scared little baby, Sherm.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThen you should go to the police.  I don't\n\t\t\tbelieve in any of that stuff.\n\nSherman looks out the window.\n\n<b>EXT.  SKY - SHERMAN'S POV\n</b>\nThe sky begins to go dark as the sun is magically eclipsed.\n\n<b>INT.  EXAMINING ROOM - CONTINUOUS ACTION - DAY\n</b>\nThe room goes dark.  Louis switches on a lamp which casts an eerie light\non his face.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (spooky)\n\t\t\tDo you believe it now, Sherm?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  HUDSON RIVER PIER - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nA drainpipe starts dripping slime into the river near the Cunard Line\ndocks.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  PUBLIC FOUNTAIN (59TH AND FIFTH) - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nWith the Plaza Hotel in the background, the fountain starts to spout\npsycho-reactive slime.\n\n<b>HOTEL ENTRANCE\n</b>\nA well-heeled MAN and WOMAN step out of a limousine and walk up the steps\ntoward the revolving door.  She looks up at the sky and frowns.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWOMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shrewish)\n\t\t\tI told you we should have stayed in Palm\n\t\t\tBeach.  The weather here gets stranger every\n\t\t\tyear.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYes, dear.\n\nShe doesn't notice it, but a small amount of slime falls on the back of\nher luxurious, full-length, white mink coat.  The doorman nods\ncourteously and extends a hand to help her up the stairs.\n\n<b>WOMAN\n</b>\nShe yelps in pain.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWOMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the doorman)\n\t\t\tSomething just bit me!\n\nThe doorman looks curiously at her, then recoils in shock as her coat\ncomes alive.  MINK HEADS pop out of the thick fur, SNARLING, BARKING and\nYAPPING, their sharp, little teeth biting the air.  Reacting quickly, the\ndoorman yanks the coat off the woman's back, throws it to the ground and\nstarts stomping on it as the Woman and her husband look on in horror.\nThe coat scuttles down the steps and runs off down the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MIDTOWN CENTRAL POLICE PRECINCT - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nThe squad room is busy as DETECTIVES try to answer the flood of calls\nregarding the wave of supernatural events sweeping the city.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDETECTIVE ONE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on the phone)\n\t\t\tLook, lady, of course there are dead people\n\t\t\tthere.  It's a cemetery ...\n\t\t\t\t (his face falls)\n\t\t\tThey were asking you for directions?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDETECTIVE TWO\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on another phone)\n\t\t\tWas this a big dinosaur or a little dinosaur?\n\t\t\t... Oh, just the skeleton, huh?  Well, where\n\t\t\tis it now?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDETECTIVE THREE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on the phone)\n\t\t\tWait a second -- the park bench was chasing\n\t\t\tyou?  You mean, someone was chasing you in\n\t\t\tthe park ... No, the bench itself was chasing\n\t\t\tyou.  I see --\n\nA weary SERGEANT answers a RINGING PHONE.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSERGEANT\n</b>\t\t\tManhattan Central, Flaherty speaking ...\n\t\t\tYeah ... yeah? ... What?  Who is this? ...\n\t\t\tWait a second.\n\nHe puts the caller on \"Hold\" and turns the LIEUTENANT.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSERGEANT\n</b>\t\t\tLieutenant, I think you better talk to this\n\t\t\tguy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLIEUTENANT\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on another call)\n\t\t\tWhat is it?  I'm talkin' here!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSERGEANT\n</b>\t\t\tIt's some dock supervisor down at Pier 34\n\t\t\ton the Hudson.  The guy's going nuts.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLIEUTENANT\n</b>\t\t\tWhat's the problem?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSERGEANT\n</b>\t\t\t\t (takes a deep breath)\n\t\t\tHe says the Titanic just arrived.\n\n<b>INT.  PORT AUTHORITY OFFICE - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nThe dock supervisor stands there with the phone in his hand, an assistant\nbeside him, both staring out the window at the ocean liner tied up at the\npier.\n\n<b>EXT.  PIER 34 - THEIR POV - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nThe name \"R.M.S. Titanic\" is clearly visible on the side of the huge\nship.  The gangplank is down and dozens of drowned passengers, sopping\nwet and festooned with seaweed, are disembarking while drowned porters\noff-load their waterlogged baggage.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  PARKVIEW HOSPITAL - NIGHT (MOMENTS LATER)(ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nEcto-2 is parked outside as Louis and Sherman come out of the hospital\nwith the Ghostbusters, now wearing their standard uniforms.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tGood work, Louis.  How did you get us out?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh, I pulled a few strings.  I wouldn't want\n\t\t\tto say any more than that.\n\nLouis winks conspiratorially at Sherman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tThis is my cousin Sherman.  Sherm, say hello\n\t\t\tto the Ghostbusters.\n\t\t\t\t (sotto voce to Stantz)\n\t\t\tI promised him a ride in the car if he got\n\t\t\tyou out.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Ghostbusters)\n\t\t\tHi, it's really great to meet you guys.  I\n\t\t\tknow this sounds weird but once I had a\n\t\t\tdream that my grandfather was standing at\n\t\t\tthe foot of my bed, but I knew it was\n\t\t\timpossible because he died and he started\n\t\t\tto tell me that --\n\nWhile he's talking, the Ghostbusters jump in the Ectomobile and drive\noff, leaving him and Louis standing at the curb.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tHey!  Wait!  Okay, I'll meet you there.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI thought you were like the fifth Ghostbuster.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI let them handle all the little stuff.  I\n\t\t\tjust come in on the big ones.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>-----------------------------------------------------------------------\n</b>(original version of the above scene - 11/27/88)\n(TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES: These two versions of this scene were put in my\ncopy of the script, so I have included both of them here)\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tActually, they still think you're crazy, but\n\t\t\tI convinced them you're not dangerous.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (determined)\n\t\t\tYeah, well guess again.\n\n<b>EXT.  BELLEVUE HOSPITAL - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)(MOMENTS LATER)\n</b>\nEcto-2 is parked outside and the Ghostbusters are hastily donning their\nstandard uniforms.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI brought everything you asked for and I\n\t\t\tgassed up the car with Super Unleaded.  It\n\t\t\tcost twenty cents more than Regular Unleaded\n\t\t\tbut you get much better performance and in\n\t\t\tan old car like this that'll end up saving\n\t\t\tyou money in the long run.  I put it on my\n\t\t\tcredit card, so you can either reimburse me\n\t\t\tor I can take it out of petty cash --\n\nWhile he's talking, the Ghostbusters jump in the Ecto-2 and drive\noff without him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tHey!  Wait!  Okay, I'll meet you there.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>-----------------------------------------------------------------------\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)(LATER)\n</b>\nECTO-2 pulls to the curb across the street from the museum.  Hundreds of\nspectators are already there gawking at the building as the Ghostbusters\njump out and gape at the sight that greets them.\n\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM THEIR POV - BUILDING\n</b>\nThe building is now totally covered in a shell of psycho-reactive slime.\nCITY WORKMEN and FIREMEN are trying to cut their way in with blowtorches,\njackhammers, power tools and the \"jaws of life,\" but they can't even make\na dent.\n\n<b>GHOSTBUSTERS\n</b>\nThey size up the situation as they don their proton packs.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt looks like a giant Jello mold.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI hate Jello.\n\nThey stride manfully across the street and approach the main entrance to\nthe museum.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Fire Captain)\n\t\t\tOkay, give it a rest, Captain.  We'll take\n\t\t\tit from here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRE CAPTAIN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (skeptical)\n\t\t\tBe my guest.  We been cutting here for three\n\t\t\thours.  What the hell's going on?  You know\n\t\t\tthe Titanic arrived this morning?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWell, better late than never.\n\nThe workmen and firemen put down their tools and fall back as the\nGhostbusters draw their particle throwers.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (monitoring valences)\n\t\t\tFull neutronas, maser assist.\n\nThey adjust their settings and prepare to fire.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThrow 'em!\n\nThey trigger their throwers and spray the front doors of the building\nwith bolts of proton energy, but it has no effect on the hardened slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the firemen)\n\t\t\tOkay, who knows \"Cumbaya?\"\n\nA few of the firemen and workmen tentatively raise their hands.  Venkman\ngrabs them and lines them up at the entrance of the museum.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAll right.  Nice and sweet --\n\t\t\t\t (starts singing)\n\t\t\tCumbaya, milord, cumbaya --\n\nStantz, Spengler, Winston and the firemen sing along, reluctantly holding\nhands and swaying to the music.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tALL\n</b>\t\t\t\t (singing)\n\t\t\tCumbaya, milord, cumbaya, Cumbaya, milord,\n\t\t\tcumbaya, Oh, Lord, cumbaya.\n\nStantz inspects the wall of slime with his infra-goggles and finds that\nthey have only managed to open a hole the size of a dime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tForget it.  The Vienna Boys Choir couldn't\n\t\t\tget through this stuff.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tGood effort.  Now what?  Should we say\n\t\t\tsupportive, nurturing things to it, Ray?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tIt won't work.  There's no way we could\n\t\t\tgenerate enough positive energy to crack\n\t\t\tthat shell.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI can't believe things have gotten so bad\n\t\t\tin this city that there's no way back.\n\t\t\tSure, it's crowded, it's dirty, it's noisy.\n\t\t\tAnd there are too many people who'd just as\n\t\t\tsoon step on your face as look at you.  But\n\t\t\tthere've got to be a few sparks of sweet\n\t\t\thumanity left in this burned-out burg.  We\n\t\t\tjust have to mobilize it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWe need something that everyone can get\n\t\t\tbehind, a symbol --\n\nHis eyes fall on ECTO-2's New York State license plate which features a\nline drawing of the Statue of Liberty.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (he sees it, too)\n\t\t\tSomething that appeals to the best in each\n\t\t\tand every one of us --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tSomething good --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAnd pure --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tAnd decent.\n\n<b>EXT.  THE STREET - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nThere is a commotion among the crowd as the Mayor's limousine arrives\nwith a police escort.  Jack Hardemeyer steps out followed by the Mayor\nhimself and they cross to the museum entrance.\n\nHardemeyer, his ASSISTANT and several police BODYGUARDS confront the\nGhostbusters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tLook, I've had it with you.  Get your stuff\n\t\t\ttogether, get back in that clown car and get\n\t\t\tout of here.  This is a city matter and\n\t\t\teverything's under control.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOh, you think so?  Well, I've got news for\n\t\t\tyou.  You've got Dracula's brother-in-law\n\t\t\tin there and he's got my girlfriend and her\n\t\t\tkid.  Around about midnight tonight, when\n\t\t\tyou're partying uptown, this guy's going to\n\t\t\tcome to life and start doing amateur head\n\t\t\ttransplants.  And that's just round one.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\tAre you telling me there're people trapped\n\t\t\tin there?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to his assistant)\n\t\t\tThis is dynamite.  Call A.P., U.P.I., and\n\t\t\tC.N.N. and get them down here right away.\n\t\t\tWhen the police bring this kid out I want\n\t\t\tthem to hand it right to the mayor and I\n\t\t\twant it all on camera.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tMr. Mayor, if we don't do something by\n\t\t\tmidnight, you're going to go down in history\n\t\t\tas the man who let New York get sucked down\n\t\t\tinto the tenth level of hell.\n\nThe Mayor stops to consider the situation.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Fire Captain)\n\t\t\tCan you get into that museum?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRE CAPTAIN\n</b>\t\t\tIf I had a nuclear warhead, maybe.\n\nThe Mayor turns to Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\tYou know why all these things are happening?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWe tried to tell you last night, but Mr.\n\t\t\tHard-On over here packed us off to the loony\n\t\t\tbin.\n\nHardemeyer flips out.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tThis is preposterous!  You can't seriously\n\t\t\tbelieve all this mumbo-jumbo!  It's the\n\t\t\tTwentieth Century, for crying out loud!\n\t\t\t\t (viciously, to Venkman)\n\t\t\tLook, mister, I don't know what this stuff\n\t\t\tis or how you got it all over the museum,\n\t\t\tbut you better get it off and I mean right\n\t\t\tnow!\n\nHe pounds the wall of slime with his fist, and they all watch in\namazement as his fist goes through the wall and he is sucked bodily\nthrough the slime curtain.  Only his shoes can be seen, embedded in the\nslime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Venkman)\n\t\t\tOkay, just tell me what you need.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  LIBERTY ISLAND (NEW YORK HARBOR) - NIGHT\n</b>\nWith the city skyline in the b.g., the Ghostbusters prepare their\nequipment.  Each of them dons a makeshift backpack consisting of tanks,\nhoses, nozzles and an abundance of gauges, valves and regulators.\nVenkman looks up at the Statue of Liberty looming above them.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tKind of makes you wonder, doesn't it?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tWonder what?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tIf she's naked under that toga.  She's\n\t\t\tFrench, you know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tThere's nothing under that toga but 300 tons\n\t\t\tof iron and steel.\n\nStantz is looking worried.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI hope we have enough stuff to do the job.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOnly one way to find out.\n\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tReady, Teddy?\n\nThey enter the statue.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  STATUE OF LIBERTY - MOMENTS LATER\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters are working from the iron staircase that spirals\nstraight up 100 feet inside the hollow super-structure of the statue.\nSpengler and Winston are busy assembling hundreds of wires connected to\nvarious relays on the interior surface of the statue.  Venkman and Stantz\nare mounting large auditorium loudspeakers near the top of the staircase.\nThey finish the installation, then Stantz dons one of the new backpacks\nand gives the order.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, boys.  Let's frost it.\n\nThey begin hosing the inside of the statue with the psycho-reactive\nslime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nJanine watches as Louis, wearing a Ghostbuster uniform, slings a heavy\nproton pack onto his back.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tI'm not sure this is such a good idea?  Do\n\t\t\tthey know you're doing this?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh, yeah, sure -- no.  But there's really\n\t\t\tnot much to do here and they might need\n\t\t\tsome back-up at the museum.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tYou're very brave, Louis.  Good luck.\n\nShe kisses Louis and he gets extremely self-conscious.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tUh -- oh -- well, I better hurry.\n\nHe rushes out.\n\n<b>EXT  STREET OUTSIDE FIREHOUSE - NIGHT (LITTLE LATER)\n</b>\nLouis stands on the street corner waiting for a bus.  Finally, a bus\npulls up, Louis climbs aboard and finds Slimer behind the wheel.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  STATUE OF LIBERTY - OBSERVATION DECK - MOMENTS LATER\n</b>\nVenkman, Stantz, Spengler and Winston are standing in the observation\nwindows in the crown of the statue.  It looks like they're on the bridge\nof an ocean liner, then the CAMERA PULLS BACK to reveal the head of the\nstatue.\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe plugs the main cable lead into a transformer.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt's all yours, Pete.\n\t\t\t\t (checks his watch)\n\t\t\tThere's not much time left.\n\nVenkman plugs the speaker cable into a Walkman and gives a downbeat.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (giving the downbeat)\n\t\t\tOkay, one, two, three, four --\n\nHe hits \"Play\" on the Walkman and \"HIGHER AND HIGHER\" BOOMS from the huge\nSPEAKERS, amplified by the statue's vast hollow interior.\n\n<b>INT.  OBSERVATION DECK - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe head of the statue lurches suddenly, but the Ghostbusters cling to\nthe rail and manage to keep their feet.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tShe's moving!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tI've lived in New York all my life and I\n\t\t\tnever visited the Statue of Liberty.  Now I\n\t\t\tfinally get here and we're taking her out\n\t\t\tfor a walk.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reading the Giga-meter)\n\t\t\tWe've got full power.\n\nStantz picks up a Nintendo control paddle from a home video game and\nstarts pushing the buttons.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (into a microphone)\n\t\t\tOkay, Libby.  Let's get it in gear.\n\nThey feel a strong vibration and the statue starts to move.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  SOUTH STREET SEAPORT - NIGHT\n</b>\nNew Years Eve celebrants line the riverfront, pointing and gawking at an\nincredible sight.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST RIVER - THEIR POV - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe statue is moving up the river almost completely submerged, only her\nhead from the nose up is visible above the surface.\n\n<b>INT.  OBSERVATION DECK - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nWinston looks out apprehensively.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tHow deep does it get?  That water's cold and\n\t\t\tI can't swim.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tIt's okay.  I have my Senior Lifesaving card.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWith a water temperature of forty degrees\n\t\t\twe'd survive approximately fifteen minutes.\n\nStantz studies a maritime navigational chart.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI'll keep to the middle of the channel.\n\t\t\tWe're okay to 59th Street, then we'll go\n\t\t\tashore and take First Avenue to 79th.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAre you kidding?  We'll hit all that bridge\n\t\t\ttraffic at 59th.  I'm going to take 72nd\n\t\t\tstraight up to Fifth.  Trust me, I used to\n\t\t\tdrive a cab.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  RIVERFRONT - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nSpectators cheer wildly, inspired by the sight of the Statue.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM RESTORATION STUDIO - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nJanosz is sitting next to Dana, still wheedling her with promises and\nself-serving logic.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tTime is running out, Dana.  Soon it will be\n\t\t\tmidnight and the city will be mine -- and\n\t\t\tVigo's.  Well, mainly Vigo's.  But we have\n\t\t\ta spectacular opportunity to make the best\n\t\t\tof our relationship.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tWe don't have a relationship.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tI know.  Marry me, Dana, and together we\n\t\t\twill raise Vigo as our son.  There are many\n\t\t\tperks that come with being the mother of a\n\t\t\tliving god.  I'm sure he will supply for us\n\t\t\ta magnificent apartment.  And perhaps a car\n\t\t\tand free parking.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI hate and despise you and everything you\n\t\t\tstand for with all my heart and soul.  I\n\t\t\tcould never forgive what you've done to me\n\t\t\tand my child.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tMany marriages begin with a certain amount\n\t\t\tof distance, but after a while I believe we\n\t\t\tcould learn to love each other.  Think about\n\t\t\tit.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI'd rather not.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  TIMES SQUARE - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nPeople are jammed together shoulder to shoulder filling Times Square,\nwatching the big Seiko clock count down the last ten minutes to midnight.\nSuddenly, they look down Broadway and see a magnificent sight.\n\n<b>EXT.  BROADWAY - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe Statue of Liberty is walking up Broadway approaching 42nd Street,\nwith \"Higher and Higher\" BOOMING from the SPEAKERS inside.  A great cheer\ngoes up, and the crowd goes wild with joy, dancing and singing along with\nthe MUSIC.\n\n<b>INT.  STATUE OF LIBERTY OBSERVATION DECK - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS)\n</b>\nSpengler reads the Giga-meter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tIt's working.  The positive GeV's are\n\t\t\tclimbing.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (patting the Statue)\n\t\t\tThey love you, Lib.  Keep it up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  FIFTH AVENUE - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nThe avenue has been closed to traffic and barricades placed, blocking all\nthe side streets.  A squadron of police motorcycles comes speeding around\nthe corner at 72nd Street and proceeds up Fifth Avenue in the direction\nof the museum.  Then MUSIC is heard BOOMING in the distance, the ground\nshakes and the Statue of Liberty comes walking around the corner onto\nFifth Avenue followed by a wildly cheering throng.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  OBSERVATION DECK - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters can see the museum ahead.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo far so good.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (worried)\n\t\t\tI'm worried.  The vibrations could shake her\n\t\t\tto pieces.  We should have padded her feet.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI don't think they make Nikes in her size.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWe're almost there, Lib.\n\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tStep on it.\n\n<b>EXT.  STREET - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe Statue's huge foot comes down and squashes a car.\n\n<b>INT.  OBSERVATION DECK - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters look down at the flattened car.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouts out the window)\n\t\t\tMy Fault!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouts)\n\t\t\tShe's new in town.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - RESTORATION STUDIO - SAME TIME\n</b>\nJanosz is painting the last of the mystical symbols on the baby's chest.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  TIMES SQUARE - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nThe people still in the square start counting off the last ten seconds to\nmidnight and the New Year.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCROWD\n</b>\t\t\t\t (chanting)\n\t\t\tTen .. nine ... eight ... seven ...\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - PAINTING - NIGHT\n</b>\nA strange light spreads over the painting.  As the light moves onto his\nface, Vigo spreads his arms wide and his upper body starts to emerge from\nthe canvas.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tSoon my life begins.  Then woe to the weak,\n\t\t\tall power to me, the world is mine.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - JANOSZ - NIGHT\n</b>\nThe baby's body begins to glow as Vigo reaches out for it.  Then suddenly\na dark shadow falls across the skylight.  Janosz looks up.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - JANOSZ'S POV - SKYLIGHT - NIGHT\n</b>\nThe Statue of Liberty is looming over the skylight looking down on Janosz\nwith an expression of righteous anger on it's face.\n\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nKneeling beside the museum, the statue draws back it's mighty right arm\nand smashes the skylight with its torch.\n\n<b>INT.  RESTORATION STUDIO - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nJanosz retreats from the shower of broken glass as the Ghostbusters come\nsliding down ropes into the studio and confront Janosz with their new\nweapons.  Quick as a flash, Dana seizes the moment, dashes across the\nstudio and snatches the baby from Vigo's outstretched arms.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Janosz)\n\t\t\tHappy New Year.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - VIGO PAINTING - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nVigo bellows in rage.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - STUDIO - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nJanosz steps in front of the painting.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tHi there.  Feel free to try something stupid.\n\nJanosz sneers, trusting the invincibility of Vigo.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou pitiful, miserable creatures!  You dare\n\t\t\tto challenge the power of darkness?  Don't\n\t\t\tyou realize what you are dealing with?  He's\n\t\t\tVigo!  You are like the buzzing of flies to\n\t\t\thim.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (sighs)\n\t\t\tOh, Johnny.  Did you back the wrong horse.\n\nWith that, the Ghostbusters fire their slime-blowers and hose Janosz from\nhead to toe, blowing him into the corner.  Then they turn to Vigo.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nHe is now almost completely out of the painting, but still held from the\nknees down.  He spits and rages at the Ghostbusters, trying to unleash\nhis magic powers.\n\n<b>THE GHOSTBUSTERS\n</b>\nThey stand fast, secure in the knowledge that Vigo's power has been\nneutralized by the good will of the people.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tVigi, Vigi, Vigi -- you have been a bad\n\t\t\tlittle monkey.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThe whole city's together on this one.  We\n\t\t\ttook a vote.  Everybody's down on you, you\n\t\t\tknow.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (arming his slime-blower)\n\t\t\tSay goodnight now.\n\nSuddenly Vigo grabs Stantz by the neck and holds him up as a shield.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tDon't shoot!  You'll hit Ray!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (strangling)\n\t\t\tDo it!  Just do it!\n\nWinston fires and hoses both Vigo and Ray.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nHe bellows and drops Ray, then falls back into the painting.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - PAINTING - NIGHT\n</b>\nThe paint turns liquid, melts off the canvas and runs onto the floor\nrevealing another painting underneath it.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - GHOSTBUSTERS - NIGHT (AFTER BATTLE)\n</b>\nVenkman, Spengler and Winston rush over to Ray and kneel beside him.  He\nis completely covered with slime and motionless.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (examining him)\n\t\t\tHe's breathing.\n\nWinston wipes the slime off Ray's face and Ray opens his eyes.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tRay -- Ray -- How do you feel, man?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (smiles lovingly)\n\t\t\tGroovy.  I've never felt better in my life.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOh, no.  We've got to live with this?\n\nThey pull him to his feet.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI love you guys.  You're the best friends\n\t\t\tI've ever had.\n\nHe hugs them each in turn, leaving them slimed as well.  Venkman recoils\nin disgust.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHey, I just had this suit cleaned.\n\t\t\t\t (indicating Janosz)\n\t\t\tTake care of the wiggler, will you.\n\nVenkman crosses to Dana who is snuggling the baby.  She hugs Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat is this -- a love in?\n\t\t\t\t (notes the symbols painted\n\t\t\t\t on the baby's body)\n\t\t\tHey, sailor.  I think the tattoos are a\n\t\t\tlittle much, don't you?\n\nHe picks up the baby.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Venkman)\n\t\t\tI think he likes you.  I think I do too.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tFinally came to your senses, huh?\n\nThey hug and kiss.\n\n<b>SPENGLER, WINSTON AND STANTZ\n</b>\nThey help Janosz to his feet.  He's dazed but unhurt.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (restored to normalcy)\n\t\t\tWhat happened?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (calmly)\n\t\t\tSir, you had a violent, prolonged,\n\t\t\ttransformative psychic episode.  But it's\n\t\t\tover now.  Want a coffee?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (extremely nice)\n\t\t\tThat's very kind of you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tHe's fine, Ray.  Physically intact,\n\t\t\tpsychomagnetherically neutral.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tIs that good?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tIt's where you want to be.\n\nAs they exit they stop to examine the painting that was concealed by\nVigo's self-portrait.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tLate Renaissance, I think.  Caravaggio or\n\t\t\tBrunelleschi.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (staring at it)\n\t\t\tThere's something very familiar about this\n\t\t\tpainting.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - NEW PAINTING - NIGHT\n</b>\nIt's a beautiful painting in the high-Renaissance style depicting four\narchangels hovering protectively over a cherubic baby.  One holds a harp,\none, an olive branch, the third, a book, and the last, a sword.  Most\nremarkably, their faces bear an uncanny resemblance to Venkman, Stantz,\nSpengler and Winston.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  STREET - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nA city bus pulls up near the museum and Louis steps off.  He waves his\nthanks to Slimer who is behind the wheel.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Slimer)\n\t\t\tOkay, so Monday night we'll get something\n\t\t\tto eat and maybe go bowling?  Can you bowl\n\t\t\twith those little arms?\n\nSLIMER GRUNTS and SLOBBERS a reply, flexing his scrawny biceps.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, I have to go save Dana.  I'll see you\n\t\t\tlater.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. MUSEUM - NIGHT (LITTLE LATER)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters are greeted by wild cheering and applause as they come\nout the main entrance with Dana and the baby.  Everybody starts singing\n\"Auld Lang Syne.\"  Louis picks his way through the celebrating crowd and\nfinds the Ghostbusters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tAm I too late?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo, you're right on time.\n\nStantz pops the cork on a bottle of champagne and hands it to him.\n\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM ENTRANCE - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nHardemeyer staggers out of the museum covered in slime.  He looks at the\ncelebrating crowd and his eyes fill with tears.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (weepy)\n\t\t\tHappy New Year, everybody!\n\nHe joins in on \"Auld Lang Syne.\"\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  CENTRAL PARK - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nThe Statue of Liberty is sprawled inert on her back in the park behind\nthe museum, her toga up over her knees.  The Mayor looks nearly suicidal.\nThe Ghostbusters stand beside him commiserating.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tShe's all right.  She's just sleeping it off.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (stricken)\n\t\t\tWe just had it restored.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThis probably isn't a good time to bring\n\t\t\tthis up, but the last time we did a job for\n\t\t\tthe city you stiffed us.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (handing the Mayor an\n\t\t\t\t invoice)\n\t\t\tThis is a bill for tonight's job.\n\nThe Mayor looks at it and gasps at the amount.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\tWhat!  This is way too much.\n\t\t\t\t (hands the bill back to\n\t\t\t\t Venkman)\n\t\t\tWe won't pay.\n\nVenkman looks at the Statue.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tI think she looks pretty good here, don't\n\t\t\tyou?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, and a lot easier to get to than that island.\n\nRealizing he has no alternative, the Mayor sighs and takes the bill back.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\tAll right, all right.  If you can wait until\n\t\tMonday I'll issue you a check.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\tSorry.  No checks.  Company policy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tCUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. LIBERTY ISLAND - DAY (WEEKS LATER)\n</b>\nThe sun is shining brightly and Liberty is back on her pedestal where she\nbelongs.  The Mayor and a host of officials are commemorating her return.\nThe Ghostbusters, Dana, Janine and Louis are there as honored guests.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t(looking up at the statue)\n\t\tPretty impressive, huh?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t(musing)\n\t\tIt's probably the first thing my\n\t\tgrandparents saw when they came to this\n\t\tcountry.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\tFrom where -- Neptune?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\tThey came from Ostrov in Eastern Poland.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\tOstrov?  I've been there.  Good party town.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t(in a similarly reflective\n\t\t\tmood)\n\t\tMy great-grandparents were Swiss.  I still\n\t\thave the pictures they took of the statue\n\t\tfrom the boat when they arrived.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\tOh, right, you told me that.  They came to\n\t\tAmerica seeking other kinds of cheese, as I\n\t\trecall.  How about you, Winston?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tMy people weren't taking any pictures from\n\t\t\tthose slave ships, man.  And there wasn't\n\t\t\tany Statue in Charleston Harbor to welcome\n\t\t\tthem, either.  What are you, Dana?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tMiss Blue Blood?  Her family's been here\n\t\t\tsince the year 12.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThat's not true.  It was 1620.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSame difference.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWhat's your story, Pete?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tMe?  I'm a little of everything.  Some Irish,\n\t\t\tsome German, some French, Dutch -- the women\n\t\t\tin my family slept around.  And that's what\n\t\t\tmade this country great.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThat's a terrible thing to say.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo what?  It's a free country.\n\t\t\t\t (looking up at the Statue)\n\t\t\tThanks, Lib.\n\nThey all look up at the Statue.\n\n<b>EXT.  STATUE OF LIBERTY - HEAD OF STATUE - DAY\n</b>\nSlimer flies out one of the observation windows, THEME MUSIC KICKS IN and\nthe CAMERA PULLS UP and AWAY FROM the island TO a HIGH SHOT of the\nStatue, lower Manhattan and the shining sea beyond.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tFADE OUT.\n</b>\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tTHE END\n</b>\n\nNow, answer the question based on the story asconcisely as you can, using a single phrase if possible. Do not provide any explanation.\n\nQuestion: What do the Ghostbusters do to stop an argument between Ray and Winston?\n\nAnswer:"}
{"question_id": 126, "category": "longbench_narrativeqa", "reference": ["The nephew of Baron Frederick storms the castle and kidnaps Otto"], "prompt": "You are given a story, which can be either a novel or a movie script, and a question. Answer the question asconcisely as you can, using a single phrase if possible. Do not provide any explanation.\n\nStory: Produced by Angus Christian\n\n\n\n\n\nOTTO OF THE SILVER HAND\n\nBy Howard Pyle\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n     I.    The Dragon's House,\n     II.   How the Baron Went Forth to Shear,\n     III.  How the Baron Came Home Shorn,\n     IV.   The White Cross on the Hill,\n     V.    How Otto Dwelt at St. Michaelsburg,\n     VI.   How Otto Lived in the Dragon's House,\n     VII.  The Red Cock Crows on Drachenhausen,\n     VIII. In the House of the Dragon Scorner,\n     IX.   How One-eyed Hans Came to Trutz-Drachen,\n     X.    How Hans Brought Terror to the Kitchen,\n     XI.   How Otto was Saved,\n     XII.  A Ride for Life,\n     XIII. How Baron Conrad Held the Bridge,\n     XIV.  How Otto Saw the Great Emperor,\n\n\n\n\nFOREWORD.\n\nBetween the far away past history of the world, and that which lies near\nto us; in the time when the wisdom of the ancient times was dead and\nhad passed away, and our own days of light had not yet come, there lay a\ngreat black gulf in human history, a gulf of ignorance, of superstition,\nof cruelty, and of wickedness.\n\nThat time we call the dark or middle ages.\n\nFew records remain to us of that dreadful period in our world's history,\nand we only know of it through broken and disjointed fragments that have\nbeen handed down to us through the generations.\n\nYet, though the world's life then was so wicked and black, there yet\nremained a few good men and women here and there (mostly in peaceful\nand quiet monasteries, far from the thunder and the glare of the worlds\nbloody battle), who knew the right and the truth and lived according to\nwhat they knew; who preserved and tenderly cared for the truths that the\ndear Christ taught, and lived and died for in Palestine so long ago.\n\nThis tale that I am about to tell is of a little boy who lived and\nsuffered in those dark middle ages; of how he saw both the good and the\nbad of men, and of how, by gentleness and love and not by strife and\nhatred, he came at last to stand above other men and to be looked up to\nby all. And should you follow the story to the end, I hope you may find\nit a pleasure, as I have done, to ramble through those dark ancient\ncastles, to lie with little Otto and Brother John in the high\nbelfry-tower, or to sit with them in the peaceful quiet of the sunny\nold monastery garden, for, of all the story, I love best those early\npeaceful years that little Otto spent in the dear old White Cross on the\nHill.\n\nPoor little Otto's life was a stony and a thorny pathway, and it is well\nfor all of us nowadays that we walk it in fancy and not in truth.\n\n\n\n\nI. The Dragon's House.\n\nUp from the gray rocks, rising sheer and bold and bare, stood the walls\nand towers of Castle Drachenhausen. A great gate-way, with a heavy\niron-pointed portcullis hanging suspended in the dim arch above, yawned\nblackly upon the bascule or falling drawbridge that spanned a chasm\nbetween the blank stone walls and the roadway that winding down the\nsteep rocky slope to the little valley just beneath. There in the lap of\nthe hills around stood the wretched straw-thatched huts of the peasants\nbelonging to the castle--miserable serfs who, half timid, half fierce,\ntilled their poor patches of ground, wrenching from the hard soil barely\nenough to keep body and soul together. Among those vile hovels played\nthe little children like foxes about their dens, their wild, fierce eyes\npeering out from under a mat of tangled yellow hair.\n\nBeyond these squalid huts lay the rushing, foaming river, spanned by a\nhigh, rude, stone bridge where the road from the castle crossed it, and\nbeyond the river stretched the great, black forest, within whose gloomy\ndepths the savage wild beasts made their lair, and where in winter time\nthe howling wolves coursed their flying prey across the moonlit snow and\nunder the net-work of the black shadows from the naked boughs above.\n\nThe watchman in the cold, windy bartizan or watch-tower that clung to\nthe gray walls above the castle gateway, looked from his narrow window,\nwhere the wind piped and hummed, across the tree-tops that rolled in\nendless billows of green, over hill and over valley to the blue and\ndistant slope of the Keiserberg, where, on the mountain side, glimmered\nfar away the walls of Castle Trutz-Drachen.\n\nWithin the massive stone walls through which the gaping gateway led,\nthree great cheerless brick buildings, so forbidding that even the\nyellow sunlight could not light them into brightness, looked down, with\nrow upon row of windows, upon three sides of the bleak, stone courtyard.\nBack of and above them clustered a jumble of other buildings, tower and\nturret, one high-peaked roof overtopping another.\n\nThe great house in the centre was the Baron's Hall, the part to the left\nwas called the Roderhausen; between the two stood a huge square pile,\nrising dizzily up into the clear air high above the rest--the great\nMelchior Tower.\n\nAt the top clustered a jumble of buildings hanging high aloft in the\nwindy space a crooked wooden belfry, a tall, narrow watch-tower, and a\nrude wooden house that clung partly to the roof of the great tower and\npartly to the walls.\n\nFrom the chimney of this crazy hut a thin thread of smoke would now and\nthen rise into the air, for there were folk living far up in that empty,\nairy desert, and oftentimes wild, uncouth little children were seen\nplaying on the edge of the dizzy height, or sitting with their bare\nlegs hanging down over the sheer depths, as they gazed below at what was\ngoing on in the court-yard. There they sat, just as little children in\nthe town might sit upon their father's door-step; and as the sparrows\nmight fly around the feet of the little town children, so the circling\nflocks of rooks and daws flew around the feet of these air-born\ncreatures.\n\nIt was Schwartz Carl and his wife and little ones who lived far up there\nin the Melchior Tower, for it overlooked the top of the hill behind the\ncastle and so down into the valley upon the further side. There, day\nafter day, Schwartz Carl kept watch upon the gray road that ran like a\nribbon through the valley, from the rich town of Gruenstaldt to the rich\ntown of Staffenburgen, where passed merchant caravans from the one to\nthe other--for the lord of Drachenhausen was a robber baron.\n\nDong! Dong! The great alarm bell would suddenly ring out from the belfry\nhigh up upon the Melchior Tower. Dong! Dong! Till the rooks and daws\nwhirled clamoring and screaming. Dong! Dong! Till the fierce wolf-hounds\nin the rocky kennels behind the castle stables howled dismally in\nanswer. Dong! Dong!--Dong! Dong!\n\nThen would follow a great noise and uproar and hurry in the castle\ncourt-yard below; men shouting and calling to one another, the ringing\nof armor, and the clatter of horses' hoofs upon the hard stone. With the\ncreaking and groaning of the windlass the iron-pointed portcullis would\nbe slowly raised, and with a clank and rattle and clash of iron chains\nthe drawbridge would fall crashing. Then over it would thunder horse and\nman, clattering away down the winding, stony pathway, until the great\nforest would swallow them, and they would be gone.\n\nThen for a while peace would fall upon the castle courtyard, the cock\nwould crow, the cook would scold a lazy maid, and Gretchen, leaning out\nof a window, would sing a snatch of a song, just as though it were a\npeaceful farm-house, instead of a den of robbers.\n\nMaybe it would be evening before the men would return once more. Perhaps\none would have a bloody cloth bound about his head, perhaps one would\ncarry his arm in a sling; perhaps one--maybe more than one--would be\nleft behind, never to return again, and soon forgotten by all excepting\nsome poor woman who would weep silently in the loneliness of her daily\nwork.\n\nNearly always the adventurers would bring back with them pack-horses\nladen with bales of goods. Sometimes, besides these, they would return\nwith a poor soul, his hands tied behind his back and his feet beneath\nthe horse's body, his fur cloak and his flat cap wofully awry. A while\nhe would disappear in some gloomy cell of the dungeon-keep, until an\nenvoy would come from the town with a fat purse, when his ransom would\nbe paid, the dungeon would disgorge him, and he would be allowed to go\nupon his way again.\n\nOne man always rode beside Baron Conrad in his expeditions and\nadventures a short, deep-chested, broad-shouldered man, with sinewy arms\nso long that when he stood his hands hung nearly to his knees.\n\nHis coarse, close-clipped hair came so low upon his brow that only a\nstrip of forehead showed between it and his bushy, black eyebrows. One\neye was blind; the other twinkled and gleamed like a spark under the\npenthouse of his brows. Many folk said that the one-eyed Hans had drunk\nbeer with the Hill-man, who had given him the strength of ten, for he\ncould bend an iron spit like a hazel twig, and could lift a barrel of\nwine from the floor to his head as easily as though it were a basket of\neggs.\n\nAs for the one-eyed Hans he never said that he had not drunk beer with\nthe Hill-man, for he liked the credit that such reports gave him with\nthe other folk. And so, like a half savage mastiff, faithful to death\nto his master, but to him alone, he went his sullen way and lived his\nsullen life within the castle walls, half respected, half feared by the\nother inmates, for it was dangerous trifling with the one-eyed Hans.\n\n\n\n\nII. How the Baron went Forth to Shear.\n\nBaron Conrad and Baroness Matilda sat together at their morning meal\nbelow their raised seats stretched the long, heavy wooden table, loaded\nwith coarse food--black bread, boiled cabbage, bacon, eggs, a great\nchine from a wild boar, sausages, such as we eat nowadays, and flagons\nand jars of beer and wine, Along the board sat ranged in the order of\nthe household the followers and retainers. Four or five slatternly women\nand girls served the others as they fed noisily at the table, moving\nhere and there behind the men with wooden or pewter dishes of food, now\nand then laughing at the jests that passed or joining in the talk. A\nhuge fire blazed and crackled and roared in the great open fireplace,\nbefore which were stretched two fierce, shaggy, wolfish-looking hounds.\nOutside, the rain beat upon the roof or ran trickling from the eaves,\nand every now and then a chill draught of wind would breathe through the\nopen windows of the great black dining-hall and set the fire roaring.\n\nAlong the dull-gray wall of stone hung pieces of armor, and swords and\nlances, and great branching antlers of the stag. Overhead arched the\nrude, heavy, oaken beams, blackened with age and smoke, and underfoot\nwas a chill pavement of stone.\n\nUpon Baron Conrad's shoulder leaned the pale, slender, yellow-haired\nBaroness, the only one in all the world with whom the fierce lord of\nDrachenhausen softened to gentleness, the only one upon whom his savage\nbrows looked kindly, and to whom his harsh voice softened with love.\n\nThe Baroness was talking to her husband in a low voice, as he looked\ndown into her pale face, with its gentle blue eyes.\n\n\"And wilt thou not, then,\" said she, \"do that one thing for me?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" he growled, in his deep voice, \"I cannot promise thee never more\nto attack the towns-people in the valley over yonder. How else could I\nlive an' I did not take from the fat town hogs to fill our own larder?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said the Baroness, \"thou couldst live as some others do, for all\ndo not rob the burgher folk as thou dost. Alas! mishap will come upon\nthee some day, and if thou shouldst be slain, what then would come of\nme?\"\n\n\"Prut,\" said the Baron, \"thy foolish fears\" But he laid his rough, hairy\nhand softly upon the Baroness' head and stroked her yellow hair.\n\n\"For my sake, Conrad,\" whispered the Baroness.\n\nA pause followed. The Baron sat looking thoughtfully down into the\nBaroness' face. A moment more, and he might have promised what she\nbesought; a moment more, and he might have been saved all the bitter\ntrouble that was to follow. But it was not to be.\n\nSuddenly a harsh sound broke the quietness of all into a confusion of\nnoises. Dong! Dong!--it was the great alarm-bell from Melchior's Tower.\n\nThe Baron started at the sound. He sat for a moment or two with his hand\nclinched upon the arm of his seat as though about to rise, then he sunk\nback into his chair again.\n\nAll the others had risen tumultuously from the table, and now stood\nlooking at him, awaiting his orders.\n\n\"For my sake, Conrad,\" said the Baroness again.\n\nDong! Dong! rang the alarm-bell. The Baron sat with his eyes bent upon\nthe floor, scowling blackly.\n\nThe Baroness took his hand in both of hers. \"For my sake,\" she pleaded,\nand the tears filled her blue eyes as she looked up at him, \"do not go\nthis time.\"\n\nFrom the courtyard without came the sound of horses' hoofs clashing\nagainst the stone pavement, and those in the hall stood watching and\nwondering at this strange delay of the Lord Baron. Just then the door\nopened and one came pushing past the rest; it was the one-eyed Hans.\nHe came straight to where the Baron sat, and, leaning over, whispered\nsomething into his master's ear.\n\n\"For my sake,\" implored the Baroness again; but the scale was turned.\nThe Baron pushed back his chair heavily and rose to his feet. \"Forward!\"\nhe roared, in a voice of thunder, and a great shout went up in answer as\nhe strode clanking down the hall and out of the open door.\n\nThe Baroness covered her face with her hands and wept.\n\n\"Never mind, little bird,\" said old Ursela, the nurse, soothingly; \"he\nwill come back to thee again as he has come back to thee before.\"\n\nBut the poor young Baroness continued weeping with her face buried in\nher hands, because he had not done that thing she had asked.\n\nA white young face framed in yellow hair looked out into the courtyard\nfrom a window above; but if Baron Conrad of Drachenhausen saw it from\nbeneath the bars of his shining helmet, he made no sign.\n\n\"Forward,\" he cried again.\n\nDown thundered the drawbridge, and away they rode with clashing hoofs\nand ringing armor through the gray shroud of drilling rain.\n\nThe day had passed and the evening had come, and the Baroness and her\nwomen sat beside a roaring fire. All were chattering and talking and\nlaughing but two--the fair young Baroness and old Ursela; the one sat\nlistening, listening, listening, the other sat with her chin resting in\nthe palm of her hand, silently watching her young mistress. The night\nwas falling gray and chill, when suddenly the clear notes of a bugle\nrang from without the castle walls. The young Baroness started, and the\nrosy light flashed up into her pale cheeks.\n\n\"Yes, good,\" said old Ursela; \"the red fox has come back to his den\nagain, and I warrant he brings a fat town goose in his mouth; now we'll\nhave fine clothes to wear, and thou another gold chain to hang about thy\npretty neck.\"\n\nThe young Baroness laughed merrily at the old woman's speech. \"This\ntime,\" said she, \"I will choose a string of pearls like that one my aunt\nused to wear, and which I had about my neck when Conrad first saw me.\"\n\nMinute after minute passed; the Baroness sat nervously playing with a\nbracelet of golden beads about her wrist. \"How long he stays,\" said she.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Ursela; \"but it is not cousin wish that holds him by the\ncoat.\"\n\nAs she spoke, a door banged in the passageway without, and the ring of\niron footsteps sounded upon the stone floor. Clank! Clank! Clank!\n\nThe Baroness rose to her feet, her face all alight. The door opened;\nthen the flush of joy faded away and the face grew white, white, white.\nOne hand clutched the back of the bench whereon she had been sitting,\nthe other hand pressed tightly against her side.\n\nIt was Hans the one-eyed who stood in the doorway, and black trouble sat\non his brow; all were looking at him waiting.\n\n\"Conrad,\" whispered the Baroness, at last. \"Where is Conrad? Where is\nyour master?\" and even her lips were white as she spoke.\n\nThe one-eyed Hans said nothing.\n\nJust then came the noise of men s voices in the corridor and the shuffle\nand scuffle of feet carrying a heavy load. Nearer and nearer they came,\nand one-eyed Hans stood aside. Six men came struggling through the\ndoorway, carrying a litter, and on the litter lay the great Baron\nConrad. The flaming torch thrust into the iron bracket against the wall\nflashed up with the draught of air from the open door, and the light\nfell upon the white face and the closed eyes, and showed upon his body\narmor a great red stain that was not the stain of rust.\n\nSuddenly Ursela cried out in a sharp, shrill voice, \"Catch her, she\nfalls!\"\n\nIt was the Baroness.\n\nThen the old crone turned fiercely upon the one-eyed Hans. \"Thou fool!\"\nshe cried, \"why didst thou bring him here? Thou hast killed thy lady!\"\n\n\"I did not know,\" said the one-eyed Hans, stupidly.\n\n\n\n\nIII. How the Baron came Home Shorn.\n\nBut Baron Conrad was not dead. For days he lay upon his hard bed, now\nmuttering incoherent words beneath his red beard, now raving fiercely\nwith the fever of his wound. But one day he woke again to the things\nabout him.\n\nHe turned his head first to the one side and then to the other; there\nsat Schwartz Carl and the one-eyed Hans. Two or three other retainers\nstood by a great window that looked out into the courtyard beneath,\njesting and laughing together in low tones, and one lay upon the heavy\noaken bench that stood along by the wall snoring in his sleep.\n\n\"Where is your lady?\" said the Baron, presently; \"and why is she not\nwith me at this time?\"\n\nThe man that lay upon the bench started up at the sound of his voice,\nand those at the window came hurrying to his bedside. But Schwartz Carl\nand the one-eyed Hans looked at one another, and neither of them spoke.\nThe Baron saw the look and in it read a certain meaning that brought\nhim to his elbow, though only to sink back upon his pillow again with a\ngroan.\n\n\"Why do you not answer me?\" said he at last, in a hollow voice; then\nto the one-eyed Hans, \"Hast no tongue, fool, that thou standest gaping\nthere like a fish? Answer me, where is thy mistress?\"\n\n\"I--I do not know,\" stammered poor Hans.\n\nFor a while the Baron lay silently looking from one face to the other,\nthen he spoke again. \"How long have I been lying here?\" said he.\n\n\"A sennight, my lord,\" said Master Rudolph, the steward, who had come\ninto the room and who now stood among the others at the bedside.\n\n\"A sennight,\" repeated the Baron, in a low voice, and then to Master\nRudolph, \"And has the Baroness been often beside me in that time?\"\nMaster Rudolph hesitated. \"Answer me,\" said the Baron, harshly.\n\n\"Not--not often,\" said Master Rudolph, hesitatingly.\n\nThe Baron lay silent for a long time. At last he passed his hands over\nhis face and held them there for a minute, then of a sudden, before\nanyone knew what he was about to do, he rose upon his elbow and then sat\nupright upon the bed. The green wound broke out afresh and a dark red\nspot grew and spread upon the linen wrappings; his face was drawn and\nhaggard with the pain of his moving, and his eyes wild and bloodshot.\nGreat drops of sweat gathered and stood upon his forehead as he sat\nthere swaying slightly from side to side.\n\n\"My shoes,\" said he, hoarsely.\n\nMaster Rudolph stepped forward. \"But, my Lord Baron,\" he began and then\nstopped short, for the Baron shot him such a look that his tongue stood\nstill in his head.\n\nHans saw that look out of his one eye. Down he dropped upon his knees\nand, fumbling under the bed, brought forth a pair of soft leathern\nshoes, which he slipped upon the Baron's feet and then laced the thongs\nabove the instep.\n\n\"Your shoulder,\" said the Baron. He rose slowly to his feet, gripping\nHans in the stress of his agony until the fellow winced again. For a\nmoment he stood as though gathering strength, then doggedly started\nforth upon that quest which he had set upon himself.\n\nAt the door he stopped for a moment as though overcome by his weakness,\nand there Master Nicholas, his cousin, met him; for the steward had sent\none of the retainers to tell the old man what the Baron was about to do.\n\n\"Thou must go back again, Conrad,\" said Master Nicholas; \"thou art not\nfit to be abroad.\"\n\nThe Baron answered him never a word, but he glared at him from out of\nhis bloodshot eyes and ground his teeth together. Then he started forth\nagain upon his way.\n\nDown the long hall he went, slowly and laboriously, the others following\nsilently behind him, then up the steep winding stairs, step by step,\nnow and then stopping to lean against the wall. So he reached a long\nand gloomy passageway lit only by the light of a little window at the\nfurther end.\n\nHe stopped at the door of one of the rooms that opened into this\npassage-way, stood for a moment, then he pushed it open.\n\nNo one was within but old Ursela, who sat crooning over a fire with a\nbundle upon her knees. She did not see the Baron or know that he was\nthere.\n\n\"Where is your lady?\" said he, in a hollow voice.\n\nThen the old nurse looked up with a start. \"Jesu bless us,\" cried she,\nand crossed herself.\n\n\"Where is your lady?\" said the Baron again, in the same hoarse voice;\nand then, not waiting for an answer, \"Is she dead?\"\n\nThe old woman looked at him for a minute blinking her watery eyes, and\nthen suddenly broke into a shrill, long-drawn wail. The Baron needed to\nhear no more.\n\nAs though in answer to the old woman's cry, a thin piping complaint came\nfrom the bundle in her lap.\n\nAt the sound the red blood flashed up into the Baron's face. \"What\nis that you have there?\" said he, pointing to the bundle upon the old\nwoman's knees.\n\nShe drew back the coverings and there lay a poor, weak, little baby,\nthat once again raised its faint reedy pipe.\n\n\"It is your son,\" said Ursela, \"that the dear Baroness left behind her\nwhen the holy angels took her to Paradise. She blessed him and called\nhim Otto before she left us.\"\n\n\n\n\nIV. The White Cross on the Hill.\n\nHere the glassy waters of the River Rhine, holding upon its bosom a\nmimic picture of the blue sky and white clouds floating above, runs\nsmoothly around a jutting point of land, St. Michaelsburg, rising from\nthe reedy banks of the stream, sweeps up with a smooth swell until\nit cuts sharp and clear against the sky. Stubby vineyards covered its\nearthy breast, and field and garden and orchard crowned its brow, where\nlay the Monastery of St. Michaelsburg--\"The White Cross on the Hill.\"\nThere within the white walls, where the warm yellow sunlight slept, all\nwas peaceful quietness, broken only now and then by the crowing of\nthe cock or the clamorous cackle of a hen, the lowing of kine or the\nbleating of goats, a solitary voice in prayer, the faint accord of\ndistant singing, or the resonant toll of the monastery bell from the\nhigh-peaked belfry that overlooked the hill and valley and the smooth,\nfar-winding stream. No other sounds broke the stillness, for in this\npeaceful haven was never heard the clash of armor, the ring of iron-shod\nhoofs, or the hoarse call to arms.\n\nAll men were not wicked and cruel and fierce in that dark, far-away age;\nall were not robbers and terror-spreading tyrants, even in that time\nwhen men's hands were against their neighbors, and war and rapine dwelt\nin place of peace and justice.\n\nAbbot Otto, of St. Michaelsburg, was a gentle, patient, pale-faced old\nman; his white hands were soft and smooth, and no one would have thought\nthat they could have known the harsh touch of sword-hilt and lance. And\nyet, in the days of the Emperor Frederick--the grandson of the great\nRed-beard--no one stood higher in the prowess of arms than he. But all\nat once--for why, no man could tell--a change came over him, and in the\nflower of his youth and fame and growing power he gave up everything\nin life and entered the quiet sanctuary of that white monastery on the\nhill-side, so far away from the tumult and the conflict of the world in\nwhich he had lived.\n\nSome said that it was because the lady he had loved had loved his\nbrother, and that when they were married Otto of Wolbergen had left the\nchurch with a broken heart.\n\nBut such stories are old songs that have been sung before.\n\nClatter! clatter! Jingle! jingle! It was a full-armed knight that came\nriding up the steep hill road that wound from left to right and right to\nleft amid the vineyards on the slopes of St. Michaelsburg. Polished helm\nand corselet blazed in the noon sunlight, for no knight in those days\ndared to ride the roads except in full armor. In front of him the\nsolitary knight carried a bundle wrapped in the folds of his coarse gray\ncloak.\n\nIt was a sorely sick man that rode up the heights of St. Michaelsburg.\nHis head hung upon his breast through the faintness of weariness and\npain; for it was the Baron Conrad.\n\nHe had left his bed of sickness that morning, had saddled his horse in\nthe gray dawn with his own hands, and had ridden away into the misty\ntwilight of the forest without the knowledge of anyone excepting the\nporter, who, winking and blinking in the bewilderment of his broken\nslumber, had opened the gates to the sick man, hardly knowing what he\nwas doing, until he beheld his master far away, clattering down the\nsteep bridle-path.\n\nEight leagues had he ridden that day with neither a stop nor a stay; but\nnow at last the end of his journey had come, and he drew rein under the\nshade of the great wooden gateway of St. Michaelsburg.\n\nHe reached up to the knotted rope and gave it a pull, and from within\nsounded the answering ring of the porter's bell. By and by a little\nwicket opened in the great wooden portals, and the gentle, wrinkled face\nof old Brother Benedict, the porter, peeped out at the strange iron-clad\nvisitor and the great black war-horse, streaked and wet with the sweat\nof the journey, flecked and dappled with flakes of foam. A few words\npassed between them, and then the little window was closed again; and\nwithin, the shuffling pat of the sandalled feet sounded fainter and\nfainter, as Brother Benedict bore the message from Baron Conrad to Abbot\nOtto, and the mail-clad figure was left alone, sitting there as silent\nas a statue.\n\nBy and by the footsteps sounded again; there came a noise of clattering\nchains and the rattle of the key in the lock, and the rasping of the\nbolts dragged back. Then the gate swung slowly open, and Baron Conrad\nrode into the shelter of the White Cross, and as the hoofs of his\nwar-horse clashed upon the stones of the courtyard within, the wooden\ngate swung slowly to behind him.\n\nAbbot Otto stood by the table when Baron Conrad entered the high-vaulted\nroom from the farther end. The light from the oriel window behind the\nold man shed broken rays of light upon him, and seemed to frame his thin\ngray hairs with a golden glory. His white, delicate hand rested upon the\ntable beside him, and upon some sheets of parchment covered with rows of\nancient Greek writing which he had been engaged in deciphering.\n\nClank! clank! clank! Baron Conrad strode across the stone floor, and\nthen stopped short in front of the good old man.\n\n\"What dost thou seek here, my son?\" said the Abbot.\n\n\"I seek sanctuary for my son and thy brother's grandson,\" said the Baron\nConrad, and he flung back the folds of his cloak and showed the face of\nthe sleeping babe.\n\nFor a while the Abbot said nothing, but stood gazing dreamily at\nthe baby. After a while he looked up. \"And the child's mother,\" said\nhe--\"what hath she to say at this?\"\n\n\"She hath naught to say,\" said Baron Conrad, hoarsely, and then stopped\nshort in his speech. \"She is dead,\" said he, at last, in a husky voice,\n\"and is with God's angels in paradise.\"\n\nThe Abbot looked intently in the Baron's face. \"So!\" said he, under his\nbreath, and then for the first time noticed how white and drawn was the\nBaron's face. \"Art sick thyself?\" he asked.\n\n\"Ay,\" said the Baron, \"I have come from death's door. But that is no\nmatter. Wilt thou take this little babe into sanctuary? My house is a\nvile, rough place, and not fit for such as he, and his mother with the\nblessed saints in heaven.\" And once more Conrad of Drachenhausen's face\nbegan twitching with the pain of his thoughts.\n\n\"Yes,\" said the old man, gently, \"he shall live here,\" and he stretched\nout his hands and took the babe. \"Would,\" said he, \"that all the little\nchildren in these dark times might be thus brought to the house of God,\nand there learn mercy and peace, instead of rapine and war.\"\n\nFor a while he stood looking down in silence at the baby in his arms,\nbut with his mind far away upon other things. At last he roused himself\nwith a start. \"And thou,\" said he to the Baron Conrad--\"hath not thy\nheart been chastened and softened by this? Surely thou wilt not go back\nto thy old life of rapine and extortion?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Baron Conrad, gruffly, \"I will rob the city swine no longer,\nfor that was the last thing that my dear one asked of me.\"\n\nThe old Abbot's face lit up with a smile. \"I am right glad that thy\nheart was softened, and that thou art willing at last to cease from war\nand violence.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" cried the Baron, roughly, \"I said nothing of ceasing from war. By\nheaven, no! I will have revenge!\" And he clashed his iron foot upon the\nfloor and clinched his fists and ground his teeth together. \"Listen,\"\nsaid he, \"and I will tell thee how my troubles happened. A fortnight ago\nI rode out upon an expedition against a caravan of fat burghers in the\nvalley of Gruenhoffen. They outnumbered us many to one, but city swine\nsuch as they are not of the stuff to stand against our kind for a long\ntime. Nevertheless, while the men-at-arms who guarded the caravan were\nstaying us with pike and cross-bow from behind a tree which they had\nfelled in front of a high bridge the others had driven the pack-horses\noff, so that by the time we had forced the bridge they were a league\nor more away. We pushed after them as hard as we were able, but when we\ncame up with them we found that they had been joined by Baron Frederick\nof Trutz-Drachen, to whom for three years and more the burghers of\nGruenstadt have been paying a tribute for his protection against others.\nThen again they made a stand, and this time the Baron Frederick himself\nwas with them. But though the dogs fought well, we were forcing them\nback, and might have got the better of them, had not my horse stumbled\nupon a sloping stone, and so fell and rolled over upon me. While I lay\nthere with my horse upon me, Baron Frederick ran me down with his lance,\nand gave me that foul wound that came so near to slaying me--and did\nslay my dear wife. Nevertheless, my men were able to bring me out from\nthat press and away, and we had bitten the Trutz-Drachen dogs so deep\nthat they were too sore to follow us, and so let us go our way in peace.\nBut when those fools of mine brought me to my castle they bore me lying\nupon a litter to my wife's chamber. There she beheld me, and, thinking\nme dead, swooned a death-swoon, so that she only lived long enough to\nbless her new-born babe and name it Otto, for you, her father's brother.\nBut, by heavens! I will have revenge, root and branch, upon that vile\ntribe, the Roderburgs of Trutz-Drachen. Their great-grandsire built that\ncastle in scorn of Baron Casper in the old days; their grandsire slew my\nfather's grandsire; Baron Nicholas slew two of our kindred; and now this\nBaron Frederick gives me that foul wound and kills my dear wife through\nmy body.\" Here the Baron stopped short; then of a sudden, shaking his\nfist above his head, he cried out in his hoarse voice: \"I swear by all\nthe saints in heaven, either the red cock shall crow over the roof of\nTrutz-Drachen or else it shall crow over my house! The black dog shall\nsit on Baron Frederick's shoulders or else he shall sit on mine!\" Again\nhe stopped, and fixing his blazing eyes upon the old man, \"Hearest thou\nthat, priest?\" said he, and broke into a great boisterous laugh.\n\nAbbot Otto sighed heavily, but he tried no further to persuade the other\ninto different thoughts.\n\n\"Thou art wounded,\" said he, at last, in a gentle voice; \"at least stay\nhere with us until thou art healed.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said the Baron, roughly, \"I will tarry no longer than to hear\nthee promise to care for my child.\"\n\n\"I promise,\" said the Abbot; \"but lay aside thy armor, and rest.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said the Baron, \"I go back again to-day.\"\n\nAt this the Abbot cried out in amazement: \"Sure thou, wounded man, would\nnot take that long journey without a due stay for resting! Think! Night\nwill be upon thee before thou canst reach home again, and the forests\nare beset with wolves.\"\n\nThe Baron laughed. \"Those are not the wolves I fear,\" said he. \"Urge me\nno further, I must return to-night; yet if thou hast a mind to do me a\nkindness thou canst give me some food to eat and a flask of your golden\nMichaelsburg; beyond these, I ask no further favor of any man, be he\npriest or layman.\"\n\n\"What comfort I can give thee thou shalt have,\" said the Abbot, in his\npatient voice, and so left the room to give the needful orders, bearing\nthe babe with him.\n\n\n\n\nV. How Otto Dwelt at St. Michaelsburg.\n\nSo the poor, little, motherless waif lived among the old monks at the\nWhite Cross on the hill, thriving and growing apace until he had reached\neleven or twelve years of age; a slender, fair-haired little fellow,\nwith a strange, quiet serious manner.\n\n\"Poor little child!\" Old Brother Benedict would sometimes say to the\nothers, \"poor little child! The troubles in which he was born must have\nbroken his wits like a glass cup. What think ye he said to me to-day?\n'Dear Brother Benedict,' said he, 'dost thou shave the hair off of the\ntop of thy head so that the dear God may see thy thoughts the better?'\nThink of that now!\" and the good old man shook with silent laughter.\n\nWhen such talk came to the good Father Abbot's ears, he smiled quietly\nto himself. \"It may be,\" said he, \"that the wisdom of little children\nflies higher than our heavy wits can follow.\"\n\nAt least Otto was not slow with his studies, and Brother Emmanuel,\nwho taught him his lessons, said more than once that, if his wits were\ncracked in other ways, they were sound enough in Latin.\n\nOtto, in a quaint, simple way which belonged to him, was gentle\nand obedient to all. But there was one among the Brethren of St.\nMichaelsburg whom he loved far above all the rest--Brother John, a poor\nhalf-witted fellow, of some twenty-five or thirty years of age. When\na very little child, he had fallen from his nurse's arms and hurt his\nhead, and as he grew up into boyhood, and showed that his wits had been\naddled by his fall, his family knew not what else to do with him, and\nso sent him off to the Monastery of St. Michaelsburg, where he lived\nhis simple, witless life upon a sort of sufferance, as though he were a\ntame, harmless animal.\n\nWhile Otto was still a little baby, he had been given into Brother\nJohn's care. Thereafter, and until Otto had grown old enough to care for\nhimself, poor Brother John never left his little charge, night or day.\nOftentimes the good Father Abbot, coming into the garden, where he loved\nto walk alone in his meditations, would find the poor, simple Brother\nsitting under the shade of the pear-tree, close to the bee-hives,\nrocking the little baby in his arms, singing strange, crazy songs to\nit, and gazing far away into the blue, empty sky with his curious, pale\neyes.\n\nAlthough, as Otto grew up into boyhood, his lessons and his tasks\nseparated him from Brother John, the bond between them seemed to grow\nstronger rather than weaker. During the hours that Otto had for his own\nthey were scarcely ever apart. Down in the vineyard, where the monks\nwere gathering the grapes for the vintage, in the garden, or in the\nfields, the two were always seen together, either wandering hand in\nhand, or seated in some shady nook or corner.\n\nBut most of all they loved to lie up in the airy wooden belfry; the\ngreat gaping bell hanging darkly above them, the mouldering cross-beams\nglimmering far up under the dim shadows of the roof, where dwelt a great\nbrown owl that, unfrightened at their familiar presence, stared down at\nthem with his round, solemn eyes. Below them stretched the white walls\nof the garden, beyond them the vineyard, and beyond that again the far\nshining river, that seemed to Otto's mind to lead into wonder-land.\nThere the two would lie upon the belfry floor by the hour, talking\ntogether of the strangest things.\n\n\"I saw the dear Angel Gabriel again yester morn,\" said Brother John.\n\n\"So!\" says Otto, seriously; \"and where was that?\"\n\n\"It was out in the garden, in the old apple-tree,\" said Brother John. \"I\nwas walking there, and my wits were running around in the grass like a\nmouse. What heard I but a wonderful sound of singing, and it was like\nthe hum of a great bee, only sweeter than honey. So I looked up into the\ntree, and there I saw two sparks. I thought at first that they were\ntwo stars that had fallen out of heaven; but what think you they were,\nlittle child?\"\n\n\"I do not know,\" said Otto, breathlessly.\n\n\"They were angel's eyes,\" said Brother John; and he smiled in the\nstrangest way, as he gazed up into the blue sky. \"So I looked at the two\nsparks and felt happy, as one does in spring time when the cold weather\nis gone, and the warm sun shines, and the cuckoo sings again. Then,\nby-and-by, I saw the face to which the eyes belonged. First, it shone\nwhite and thin like the moon in the daylight; but it grew brighter and\nbrighter, until it hurt one's eyes to look at it, as though it had been\nthe blessed sun itself. Angel Gabriel's hand was as white as silver, and\nin it he held a green bough with blossoms, like those that grow on the\nthorn bush. As for his robe, it was all of one piece, and finer than the\nFather Abbot's linen, and shone beside like the sunlight on pure snow.\nSo I knew from all these things that it was the blessed Angel Gabriel.\"\n\n\"What do they say about this tree, Brother John?\" said he to me.\n\n\"They say it is dying, my Lord Angel,\" said I, \"and that the gardener\nwill bring a sharp axe and cut it down.\"\n\n\"'And what dost thou say about it, Brother John?' said he.\"\n\n\"'I also say yes, and that it is dying,' said I.\"\n\n\"At that he smiled until his face shone so bright that I had to shut my\neyes.\"\n\n\"'Now I begin to believe, Brother John, that thou art as foolish as men\nsay,' said he. 'Look, till I show thee.' And thereat I opened mine eyes\nagain.\"\n\n\"Then Angel Gabriel touched the dead branches with the flowery twig that\nhe held in his hand, and there was the dead wood all covered with green\nleaves, and fair blossoms and beautiful apples as yellow as gold. Each\nsmelling more sweetly than a garden of flowers, and better to the taste\nthan white bread and honey.\n\n\"'They are souls of the apples,' said the good Angel,' and they can\nnever wither and die.'\n\n\"'Then I'll tell the gardener that he shall not cut the tree down,' said\nI.\"\n\n\"'No, no,' said the dear Gabriel, 'that will never do, for if the tree\nis not cut down here on the earth, it can never be planted in paradise.'\"\n\nHere Brother John stopped short in his story, and began singing one of\nhis crazy songs, as he gazed with his pale eyes far away into nothing at\nall.\n\n\"But tell me, Brother John,\" said little Otto, in a hushed voice, \"what\nelse did the good Angel say to thee?\"\n\nBrother John stopped short in his song and began looking from right to\nleft, and up and down, as though to gather his wits.\n\n\"So!\" said he, \"there was something else that he told me. Tschk! If I\ncould but think now. Yes, good! This is it--'Nothing that has lived,'\nsaid he, 'shall ever die, and nothing that has died shall ever live.'\"\n\nOtto drew a deep breath. \"I would that I might see the beautiful Angel\nGabriel sometime,\" said he; but Brother John was singing again and did\nnot seem to hear what he said.\n\nNext to Brother John, the nearest one to the little child was the good\nAbbot Otto, for though he had never seen wonderful things with the eyes\nof his soul, such as Brother John's had beheld, and so could not tell of\nthem, he was yet able to give little Otto another pleasure that no one\nelse could give.\n\nHe was a great lover of books, the old Abbot, and had under lock and key\nwonderful and beautiful volumes, bound in hog-skin and metal, and with\ncovers inlaid with carved ivory, or studded with precious stones. But\nwithin these covers, beautiful as they were, lay the real wonder of the\nbooks, like the soul in the body; for there, beside the black letters\nand initials, gay with red and blue and gold, were beautiful pictures\npainted upon the creamy parchment. Saints and Angels, the Blessed Virgin\nwith the golden oriole about her head, good St. Joseph, the three Kings;\nthe simple Shepherds kneeling in the fields, while Angels with glories\nabout their brow called to the poor Peasants from the blue sky above.\nBut, most beautiful of all was the picture of the Christ Child lying in\nthe manger, with the mild-eyed Kine gazing at him.\n\nSometimes the old Abbot would unlock the iron-bound chest where these\ntreasures lay hidden, and carefully and lovingly brushing the few grains\nof dust from them, would lay them upon the table beside the oriel window\nin front of his little namesake, allowing the little boy freedom to turn\nthe leaves as he chose.\n\nAlways it was one picture that little Otto sought; the Christ Child in\nthe manger, with the Virgin, St. Joseph, the Shepherds, and the Kine.\nAnd as he would hang breathlessly gazing and gazing upon it, the old\nAbbot would sit watching him with a faint, half-sad smile flickering\naround his thin lips and his pale, narrow face.\n\nIt was a pleasant, peaceful life, but by-and-by the end came. Otto was\nnow nearly twelve years old.\n\nOne bright, clear day, near the hour of noon, little Otto heard the\nporter's bell sounding below in the court-yard--dong! dong! Brother\nEmmanuel had been appointed as the boy's instructor, and just then Otto\nwas conning his lessons in the good monk's cell. Nevertheless, at the\nsound of the bell he pricked up his ears and listened, for a visitor was\na strange matter in that out-of-the-way place, and he wondered who it\ncould be. So, while his wits wandered his lessons lagged.\n\n\"Postera Phoeba lustrabat lampade terras,\" continued Brother Emmanuel,\ninexorably running his horny finger-nail beneath the line, \"humentemque\nAurora polo dimoverat umbram--\" the lesson dragged along.\n\nJust then a sandaled footstep sounded without, in the stone corridor,\nand a light tap fell upon Brother Emmanuel's door. It was Brother\nIgnatius, and the Abbot wished little Otto to come to the refectory.\n\nAs they crossed the court-yard Otto stared to see a group of mail-clad\nmen-at-arms, some sitting upon their horses, some standing by the\nsaddle-bow. \"Yonder is the young baron,\" he heard one of them say in a\ngruff voice, and thereupon all turned and stared at him.\n\nA stranger was in the refectory, standing beside the good old Abbot,\nwhile food and wine were being brought and set upon the table for his\nrefreshment; a great, tall, broad-shouldered man, beside whom the Abbot\nlooked thinner and slighter than ever.\n\nThe stranger was clad all in polished and gleaming armor, of plate and\nchain, over which was drawn a loose robe of gray woollen stuff, reaching\nto the knees and bound about the waist by a broad leathern sword-belt.\nUpon his arm he carried a great helmet which he had just removed from\nhis head. His face was weather-beaten and rugged, and on lip and chin\nwas a wiry, bristling beard; once red, now frosted with white.\n\nBrother Ignatius had bidden Otto to enter, and had then closed the door\nbehind him; and now, as the lad walked slowly up the long room, he gazed\nwith round, wondering blue eyes at the stranger.\n\n\"Dost know who I am, Otto? said the mail-clad knight, in a deep,\ngrowling voice.\n\n\"Methinks you are my father, sir,\" said Otto.\n\n\"Aye, thou art right,\" said Baron Conrad, \"and I am glad to see that\nthese milk-churning monks have not allowed thee to forget me, and who\nthou art thyself.\"\n\n\"An' it please you,\" said Otto, \"no one churneth milk here but\nBrother Fritz; we be makers of wine and not makers of butter, at St.\nMichaelsburg.\"\n\nBaron Conrad broke into a great, loud laugh, but Abbot Otto's sad and\nthoughtful face lit up with no shadow of an answering smile.\n\n\"Conrad,\" said he, turning to the other, \"again let me urge thee; do\nnot take the child hence, his life can never be your life, for he is not\nfitted for it. I had thought,\" said he, after a moment's pause, \"I had\nthought that thou hadst meant to consecrate him--this motherless one--to\nthe care of the Universal Mother Church.\"\n\n\"So!\" said the Baron, \"thou hadst thought that, hadst thou? Thou hadst\nthought that I had intended to deliver over this boy, the last of the\nVuelphs, to the arms of the Church? What then was to become of our name\nand the glory of our race if it was to end with him in a monastery? No,\nDrachenhausen is the home of the Vuelphs, and there the last of the race\nshall live as his sires have lived before him, holding to his rights by\nthe power and the might of his right hand.\"\n\nThe Abbot turned and looked at the boy, who was gaping in simple\nwide-eyed wonderment from one to the other as they spoke.\n\n\"And dost thou think, Conrad,\" said the old man, in his gentle, patient\nvoice, \"that that poor child can maintain his rights by the strength of\nhis right hand?\"\n\nThe Baron's look followed the Abbot's, and he said nothing.\n\nIn the few seconds of silence that followed, little Otto, in his simple\nmind, was wondering what all this talk portended. Why had his father\ncome hither to St. Michaelsburg, lighting up the dim silence of the\nmonastery with the flash and ring of his polished armor? Why had he\ntalked about churning butter but now, when all the world knew that the\nmonks of St. Michaelsburg made wine.\n\nIt was Baron Conrad's deep voice that broke the little pause of silence.\n\n\"If you have made a milkmaid of the boy,\" he burst out at last, \"I thank\nthe dear heaven that there is yet time to undo your work and to make a\nman of him.\"\n\nThe Abbot sighed. \"The child is yours, Conrad,\" said he, \"the will of\nthe blessed saints be done. Mayhap if he goes to dwell at Drachenhausen\nhe may make you the better instead of you making him the worse.\"\n\nThen light came to the darkness of little Otto's wonderment; he saw what\nall this talk meant and why his father had come hither. He was to leave\nthe happy, sunny silence of the dear White Cross, and to go out into\nthat great world that he had so often looked down upon from the high\nwindy belfry on the steep hillside.\n\n\n\n\nVI. How Otto Lived in the Dragon's House.\n\nThe gates of the Monastery stood wide open, the world lay beyond, and\nall was ready for departure. Baron Conrad and his men-at-arms sat foot\nin stirrup, the milk-white horse that had been brought for Otto stood\nwaiting for him beside his father's great charger.\n\n\"Farewell, Otto,\" said the good old Abbot, as he stooped and kissed the\nboy's cheek.\n\n\"Farewell,\" answered Otto, in his simple, quiet way, and it brought\na pang to the old man's heart that the child should seem to grieve so\nlittle at the leave-taking.\n\n\"Farewell, Otto,\" said the brethren that stood about, \"farewell,\nfarewell.\"\n\nThen poor brother John came forward and took the boy's hand, and looked\nup into his face as he sat upon his horse. \"We will meet again,\" said\nhe, with his strange, vacant smile, \"but maybe it will be in Paradise,\nand there perhaps they will let us lie in the father's belfry, and look\ndown upon the angels in the court-yard below.\"\n\n\"Aye,\" answered Otto, with an answering smile.\n\n\"Forward,\" cried the Baron, in a deep voice, and with a clash of hoofs\nand jingle of armor they were gone, and the great wooden gates were shut\nto behind them.\n\nDown the steep winding pathway they rode, and out into the great wide\nworld beyond, upon which Otto and brother John had gazed so often from\nthe wooden belfry of the White Cross on the hill.\n\n\"Hast been taught to ride a horse by the priests up yonder on\nMichaelsburg?\" asked the Baron, when they had reached the level road.\n\n\"Nay,\" said Otto; \"we had no horse to ride, but only to bring in the\nharvest or the grapes from the further vineyards to the vintage.\"\n\n\"Prut,\" said the Baron, \"methought the abbot would have had enough of\nthe blood of old days in his veins to have taught thee what is fitting\nfor a knight to know; art not afeared?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Otto, with a smile, \"I am not afeared.\"\n\n\"There at least thou showest thyself a Vuelph,\" said the grim Baron. But\nperhaps Otto's thought of fear and Baron Conrad's thought of fear were\ntwo very different matters.\n\nThe afternoon had passed by the time they had reached the end of their\njourney. Up the steep, stony path they rode to the drawbridge and\nthe great gaping gateway of Drachenhausen, where wall and tower and\nbattlement looked darker and more forbidding than ever in the gray\ntwilight of the coming night. Little Otto looked up with great,\nwondering, awe-struck eyes at this grim new home of his.\n\nThe next moment they clattered over the drawbridge that spanned the\nnarrow black gulph between the roadway and the wall, and the next were\npast the echoing arch of the great gateway and in the gray gloaming of\nthe paved court-yard within.\n\nOtto looked around upon the many faces gathered there to catch the\nfirst sight of the little baron; hard, rugged faces, seamed and\nweather-beaten; very different from those of the gentle brethren among\nwhom he had lived, and it seemed strange to him that there was none\nthere whom he should know.\n\nAs he climbed the steep, stony steps to the door of the Baron's house,\nold Ursela came running down to meet him. She flung her withered arms\naround him and hugged him close to her. \"My little child,\" she cried,\nand then fell to sobbing as though her heart would break.\n\n\"Here is someone knoweth me,\" thought the little boy.\n\nHis new home was all very strange and wonderful to Otto; the armors, the\ntrophies, the flags, the long galleries with their ranges of rooms,\nthe great hall below with its vaulted roof and its great fireplace of\ngrotesquely carved stone, and all the strange people with their lives\nand thoughts so different from what he had been used to know.\n\nAnd it was a wonderful thing to explore all the strange places in the\ndark old castle; places where it seemed to Otto no one could have ever\nbeen before.\n\nOnce he wandered down a long, dark passageway below the hall, pushed\nopen a narrow, iron-bound oaken door, and found himself all at once in\na strange new land; the gray light, coming in through a range of tall,\nnarrow windows, fell upon a row of silent, motionless figures carven in\nstone, knights and ladies in strange armor and dress; each lying upon\nhis or her stony couch with clasped hands, and gazing with fixed,\nmotionless, stony eyeballs up into the gloomy, vaulted arch above them.\nThere lay, in a cold, silent row, all of the Vuelphs who had died since\nthe ancient castle had been built.\n\nIt was the chapel into which Otto had made his way, now long since\nfallen out of use excepting as a burial place of the race.\n\nAt another time he clambered up into the loft under the high peaked\nroof, where lay numberless forgotten things covered with the dim dust\nof years. There a flock of pigeons had made their roost, and flapped\nnoisily out into the sunlight when he pushed open the door from below.\nHere he hunted among the mouldering things of the past until, oh, joy\nof joys! in an ancient oaken chest he found a great lot of worm-eaten\nbooks, that had belonged to some old chaplain of the castle in days gone\nby. They were not precious and beautiful volumes, such as the Father\nAbbot had showed him, but all the same they had their quaint painted\npictures of the blessed saints and angels.\n\nAgain, at another time, going into the court-yard, Otto had found\nthe door of Melchior's tower standing invitingly open, for old Hilda,\nSchwartz Carl's wife, had come down below upon some business or other.\n\nThen upon the shaky wooden steps Otto ran without waiting for a second\nthought, for he had often gazed at those curious buildings hanging so\nfar up in the air, and had wondered what they were like. Round and round\nand up and up Otto climbed, until his head spun. At last he reached\na landing-stage, and gazing over the edge and down, beheld the stone\npavement far, far below, lit by a faint glimmer of light that entered\nthrough the arched doorway. Otto clutched tight hold of the wooden rail,\nhe had no thought that he had climbed so far.\n\nUpon the other side of the landing was a window that pierced the thick\nstone walls of the tower; out of the window he looked, and then drew\nsuddenly back again with a gasp, for it was through the outer wall he\npeered, and down, down below in the dizzy depths he saw the hard\ngray rocks, where the black swine, looking no larger than ants in the\ndistance, fed upon the refuse thrown out over the walls of the castle.\nThere lay the moving tree-tops like a billowy green sea, and the coarse\nthatched roofs of the peasant cottages, round which crawled the little\nchildren like tiny human specks.\n\nThen Otto turned and crept down the stairs, frightened at the height to\nwhich he had climbed.\n\nAt the doorway he met Mother Hilda. \"Bless us,\" she cried, starting back\nand crossing herself, and then, seeing who it was, ducked him a courtesy\nwith as pleasant a smile as her forbidding face, with its little\ndeep-set eyes, was able to put upon itself.\n\nOld Ursela seemed nearer to the boy than anyone else about the castle,\nexcepting it was his father, and it was a newfound delight to Otto to\nsit beside her and listen to her quaint stories, so different from the\nmonkish tales that he had heard and read at the monastery.\n\nBut one day it was a tale of a different sort that she told him, and one\nthat opened his eyes to what he had never dreamed of before.\n\nThe mellow sunlight fell through the window upon old Ursela, as she sat\nin the warmth with her distaff in her hands while Otto lay close to her\nfeet upon a bear skin, silently thinking over the strange story of a\nbrave knight and a fiery dragon that she had just told him. Suddenly\nUrsela broke the silence.\n\n\"Little one,\" said she, \"thou art wondrously like thy own dear mother;\ndidst ever hear how she died?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Otto, \"but tell me, Ursela, how it was.\"\n\n\"Tis strange,\" said the old woman, \"that no one should have told thee\nin all this time.\" And then, in her own fashion she related to him the\nstory of how his father had set forth upon that expedition in spite of\nall that Otto's mother had said, beseeching him to abide at home; how he\nhad been foully wounded, and how the poor lady had died from her fright\nand grief.\n\nOtto listened with eyes that grew wider and wider, though not all with\nwonder; he no longer lay upon the bear skin, but sat up with his hands\nclasped. For a moment or two after the old woman had ended her story, he\nsat staring silently at her. Then he cried out, in a sharp voice, \"And\nis this truth that you tell me, Ursela? and did my father seek to rob\nthe towns people of their goods?\"\n\nOld Ursela laughed. \"Aye,\" said she, \"that he did and many times. Ah!\nme, those day's are all gone now.\" And she fetched a deep sigh. \"Then we\nlived in plenty and had both silks and linens and velvets besides in the\nstore closets and were able to buy good wines and live in plenty upon\nthe best. Now we dress in frieze and live upon what we can get and\nsometimes that is little enough, with nothing better than sour beer to\ndrink. But there is one comfort in it all, and that is that our good\nBaron paid back the score he owed the Trutz-Drachen people not only for\nthat, but for all that they had done from the very first.\"\n\nThereupon she went on to tell Otto how Baron Conrad had fulfilled the\npledge of revenge that he had made Abbot Otto, how he had watched day\nafter day until one time he had caught the Trutz-Drachen folk,\nwith Baron Frederick at their head, in a narrow defile back of the\nKaiserburg; of the fierce fight that was there fought; of how the\nRoderburgs at last fled, leaving Baron Frederick behind them wounded; of\nhow he had kneeled before the Baron Conrad, asking for mercy, and of\nhow Baron Conrad had answered, \"Aye, thou shalt have such mercy as thou\ndeservest,\" and had therewith raised his great two-handed sword and laid\nhis kneeling enemy dead at one blow.\n\nPoor little Otto had never dreamed that such cruelty and wickedness\ncould be. He listened to the old woman's story with gaping horror, and\nwhen the last came and she told him, with a smack of her lips, how his\nfather had killed his enemy with his own hand, he gave a gasping cry and\nsprang to his feet. Just then the door at the other end of the chamber\nwas noisily opened, and Baron Conrad himself strode into the room.\nOtto turned his head, and seeing who it was, gave another cry, loud and\nquavering, and ran to his father and caught him by the hand.\n\n\"Oh, father!\" he cried, \"oh, father! Is it true that thou hast killed a\nman with thy own hand?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said the Baron, grimly, \"it is true enough, and I think me I have\nkilled many more than one. But what of that, Otto? Thou must get out of\nthose foolish notions that the old monks have taught thee. Here in the\nworld it is different from what it is at St. Michaelsburg; here a man\nmust either slay or be slain.\"\n\nBut poor little Otto, with his face hidden in his father's robe, cried\nas though his heart would break. \"Oh, father!\" he said, again and again,\n\"it cannot be--it cannot be that thou who art so kind to me should have\nkilled a man with thine own hands.\" Then: \"I wish that I were back\nin the monastery again; I am afraid out here in the great wide world;\nperhaps somebody may kill me, for I am only a weak little boy and could\nnot save my own life if they chose to take it from me.\"\n\nBaron Conrad looked down upon Otto all this while, drawing his bushy\neyebrows together. Once he reached out his hand as though to stroke the\nboy's hair, but drew it back again.\n\nTurning angrily upon the old woman, \"Ursela,\" said he, \"thou must tell\nthe child no more such stories as these; he knowest not at all of such\nthings as yet. Keep thy tongue busy with the old woman's tales that he\nloves to hear thee tell, and leave it with me to teach him what becometh\na true knight and a Vuelph.\"\n\nThat night the father and son sat together beside the roaring fire in\nthe great ball. \"Tell me, Otto,\" said the Baron, \"dost thou hate me for\nhaving done what Ursela told thee today that I did?\"\n\nOtto looked for a while into his father's face. \"I know not,\" said he at\nlast, in his quaint, quiet voice, \"but methinks that I do not hate thee\nfor it.\"\n\nThe Baron drew his bushy brows together until his eyes twinkled out of\nthe depths beneath them, then of a sudden he broke into a great loud\nlaugh, smiting his horny palm with a smack upon his thigh.\n\n\n\n\nVII. The Red Cock Crows on Drachenhausen.\n\nThere was a new emperor in Germany who had come from a far away Swiss\ncastle; Count Rudolph of Hapsburg, a good, honest man with a good,\nhonest, homely face, but bringing with him a stern sense of justice and\nof right, and a determination to put down the lawlessness of the savage\nGerman barons among whom he had come as Emperor.\n\nOne day two strangers came galloping up the winding path to the gates\nof the Dragon's house. A horn sounded thin and clear, a parley was held\nacross the chasm in the road between the two strangers and the porter\nwho appeared at the little wicket. Then a messenger was sent running to\nthe Baron, who presently came striding across the open court-yard to the\ngateway to parley with the strangers.\n\nThe two bore with them a folded parchment with a great red seal\nhanging from it like a clot of blood; it was a message from the Emperor\ndemanding that the Baron should come to the Imperial Court to answer\ncertain charges that had been brought against him, and to give his bond\nto maintain the peace of the empire.\n\nOne by one those barons who had been carrying on their private wars, or\nhad been despoiling the burgher folk in their traffic from town to\ntown, and against whom complaint had been lodged, were summoned to the\nImperial Court, where they were compelled to promise peace and to swear\nallegiance to the new order of things. All those who came willingly were\nallowed to return home again after giving security for maintaining the\npeace; all those who came not willingly were either brought in chains\nor rooted out of their strongholds with fire and sword, and their roofs\nburned over their heads.\n\nNow it was Baron Conrad's turn to be summoned to the Imperial Court,\nfor complaint had been lodged against him by his old enemy of\nTrutz-Drachen--Baron Henry--the nephew of the old Baron Frederick\nwho had been slain while kneeling in the dust of the road back of the\nKaiserburg.\n\nNo one at Drachenhausen could read but Master Rudolph, the steward,\nwho was sand blind, and little Otto. So the boy read the summons to his\nfather, while the grim Baron sat silent with his chin resting upon his\nclenched fist and his eyebrows drawn together into a thoughtful frown as\nhe gazed into the pale face of his son, who sat by the rude oaken table\nwith the great parchment spread out before him.\n\nShould he answer the summons, or scorn it as he would have done under\nthe old emperors? Baron Conrad knew not which to do; pride said one\nthing and policy another. The Emperor was a man with an iron hand, and\nBaron Conrad knew what had happened to those who had refused to obey the\nimperial commands. So at last he decided that he would go to the court,\ntaking with him a suitable escort to support his dignity.\n\nIt was with nearly a hundred armed men clattering behind him that Baron\nConrad rode away to court to answer the imperial summons. The castle was\nstripped of its fighting men, and only eight remained behind to guard\nthe great stone fortress and the little simple-witted boy.\n\nIt was a sad mistake.\n\nThree days had passed since the Baron had left the castle, and now the\nthird night had come. The moon was hanging midway in the sky, white and\nfull, for it was barely past midnight.\n\nThe high precipitous banks of the rocky road threw a dense black shadow\ninto the gully below, and in that crooked inky line that scarred the\nwhite face of the moonlit rocks a band of some thirty men were creeping\nslowly and stealthily nearer and nearer to Castle Drachenhausen. At the\nhead of them was a tall, slender knight clad in light chain armor, his\nhead covered only by a steel cap or bascinet.\n\nAlong the shadow they crept, with only now and then a faint clink or\njingle of armor to break the stillness, for most of those who followed\nthe armed knight were clad in leathern jerkins; only one or two wearing\neven so much as a steel breast-plate by way of armor.\n\nSo at last they reached the chasm that yawned beneath the roadway, and\nthere they stopped, for they had reached the spot toward which they had\nbeen journeying. It was Baron Henry of Trutz-Drachen who had thus come\nin the silence of the night time to the Dragon's house, and his visit\nboded no good to those within.\n\nThe Baron and two or three of his men talked together in low tones, now\nand then looking up at the sheer wall that towered above them.\n\n\"Yonder is the place, Lord Baron,\" said one of those who stood with him.\n\"I have scanned every foot of the wall at night for a week past. An we\nget not in by that way, we get not in at all. A keen eye, a true aim,\nand a bold man are all that we need, and the business is done.\" Here\nagain all looked upward at the gray wall above them, rising up in the\nsilent night air.\n\nHigh aloft hung the wooden bartizan or watch-tower, clinging to the face\nof the outer wall and looming black against the pale sky above. Three\ngreat beams pierced the wall, and upon them the wooden tower rested. The\nmiddle beam jutted out beyond the rest to the distance of five or six\nfeet, and the end of it was carved into the rude semblance of a dragon's\nhead.\n\n\"So, good,\" said the Baron at last; \"then let us see if thy plan holds,\nand if Hans Schmidt's aim is true enough to earn the three marks that I\nhave promised him. Where is the bag?\"\n\nOne of those who stood near handed the Baron a leathern pouch, the Baron\nopened it and drew out a ball of fine thread, another of twine, a coil\nof stout rope, and a great bundle that looked, until it was unrolled,\nlike a coarse fish-net. It was a rope ladder. While these were being\nmade ready, Hans Schmidt, a thick-set, low-browed, broad-shouldered\narcher, strung his stout bow, and carefully choosing three arrows\nfrom those in his quiver, he stuck them point downward in the earth.\nUnwinding the ball of thread, he laid it loosely in large loops upon the\nground so that it might run easily without hitching, then he tied the\nend of the thread tightly around one of his arrows. He fitted the arrow\nto the bow and drew the feather to his ear. Twang! rang the bowstring,\nand the feathered messenger flew whistling upon its errand to the\nwatch-tower. The very first shaft did the work.\n\n\"Good,\" said Hans Schmidt, the archer, in his heavy voice, \"the three\nmarks are mine, Lord Baron.\"\n\nThe arrow had fallen over and across the jutting beam between the carved\ndragon's head and the bartizan, carrying with it the thread, which now\nhung from above, glimmering white in the moonlight like a cobweb.\n\nThe rest was an easy task enough. First the twine was drawn up to and\nover the beam by the thread, then the rope was drawn up by the twine,\nand last of all the rope ladder by the rope. There it hung like a thin,\nslender black line against the silent gray walls.\n\n\"And now,\" said the Baron, \"who will go first and win fifty marks for\nhis own, and climb the rope ladder to the tower yonder?\" Those around\nhesitated. \"Is there none brave enough to venture?\" said the Baron,\nafter a pause of silence.\n\nA stout, young fellow, of about eighteen years of age, stepped forward\nand flung his flat leathern cap upon the ground. \"I will go, my Lord\nBaron,\" said he.\n\n\"Good,\" said the Baron, \"the fifty marks are thine. And now listen, if\nthou findest no one in the watch-tower, whistle thus; if the watchman\nbe at his post, see that thou makest all safe before thou givest the\nsignal. When all is ready the others will follow thee. And now go and\ngood luck go with thee.\"\n\nThe young fellow spat upon his hands and, seizing the ropes, began\nslowly and carefully to mount the flimsy, shaking ladder. Those below\nheld it as tight as they were able, but nevertheless he swung backward\nand forward and round and round as he climbed steadily upward. Once he\nstopped upon the way, and those below saw him clutch the ladder close\nto him as though dizzied by the height and the motion but he soon began\nagain, up, up, up like some great black spider. Presently he came out\nfrom the black shadow below and into the white moonlight, and then his\nshadow followed him step by step up the gray wall upon his way. At last\nhe reached the jutting beam, and there again he stopped for a moment\nclutching tightly to it. The next he was upon the beam, dragging himself\ntoward the window of the bartizan just above. Slowly raising himself\nupon his narrow foothold he peeped cautiously within. Those watching\nhim from be low saw him slip his hand softly to his side, and then place\nsomething between his teeth. It was his dagger. Reaching up, he clutched\nthe window sill above him and, with a silent spring, seated himself\nupon it. The next moment he disappeared within. A few seconds of silence\nfollowed, then of sudden a sharp gurgling cry broke the stillness. There\nwas another pause of silence, then a faint shrill whistle sounded from\nabove.\n\n\"Who will go next?\" said the Baron. It was Hans Schmidt who stepped\nforward. Another followed the arch up the ladder, and another, and\nanother. Last of all went the Baron Henry himself, and nothing was left\nbut the rope ladder hanging from above, and swaying back and forth in\nthe wind.\n\nThat night Schwartz Carl had been bousing it over a pot of yellow wine\nin the pantry with his old crony, Master Rudolph, the steward; and the\ntwo, chatting and gossiping together, had passed the time away until\nlong after the rest of the castle had been wrapped in sleep. Then,\nperhaps a little unsteady upon his feet, Schwartz Carl betook himself\nhomeward to the Melchior tower.\n\nHe stood for a while in the shadow of the doorway, gazing up into the\npale sky above him at the great, bright, round moon, that hung like a\nbubble above the sharp peaks of the roofs standing black as ink against\nthe sky. But all of a sudden he started up from the post against which\nhe had been leaning, and with head bent to one side, stood listening\nbreathlessly, for he too had heard that smothered cry from the\nwatch-tower. So he stood intently, motionlessly, listening, listening;\nbut all was silent except for the monotonous dripping of water in one of\nthe nooks of the court-yard, and the distant murmur of the river borne\nupon the breath of the night air. \"Mayhap I was mistaken,\" muttered\nSchwartz Carl to himself.\n\nBut the next moment the silence was broken again by a faint, shrill\nwhistle; what did it mean?\n\nBack of the heavy oaken door of the tower was Schwartz Carl's cross-bow,\nthe portable windlass with which the bowstring was drawn back, and a\npouch of bolts. Schwartz Carl reached back into the darkness, fumbling\nin the gloom until his fingers met the weapon. Setting his foot in the\niron stirrup at the end of the stock, he wound the stout bow-string\ninto the notch of the trigger, and carefully fitted the heavy,\nmurderous-looking bolt into the groove.\n\nMinute after minute passed, and Schwartz Carl, holding his arbelast in\nhis hand, stood silently waiting and watching in the sharp-cut, black\nshadow of the doorway, motionless as a stone statue. Minute after minute\npassed. Suddenly there was a movement in the shadow of the arch of the\ngreat gateway across the court-yard, and the next moment a leathern-clad\nfigure crept noiselessly out upon the moonlit pavement, and stood there\nlistening, his head bent to one side. Schwartz Carl knew very well\nthat it was no one belonging to the castle, and, from the nature of his\naction, that he was upon no good errand.\n\nHe did not stop to challenge the suspicious stranger. The taking of\nanother's life was thought too small a matter for much thought or care\nin those days. Schwartz Carl would have shot a man for a much smaller\nreason than the suspicious actions of this fellow. The leather-clad\nfigure stood a fine target in the moonlight for a cross-bow bolt.\nSchwartz Carl slowly raised the weapon to his shoulder and took a long\nand steady aim. Just then the stranger put his fingers to his lips and\ngave a low, shrill whistle. It was the last whistle that he was to give\nupon this earth. There was a sharp, jarring twang of the bow-string, the\nhiss of the flying bolt, and the dull thud as it struck its mark. The\nman gave a shrill, quavering cry, and went staggering back, and then\nfell all of a heap against the wall behind him. As though in answer to\nthe cry, half a dozen men rushed tumultuously out from the shadow of\nthe gateway whence the stranger had just come, and then stood in the\ncourt-yard, looking uncertainly this way and that, not knowing from what\nquarter the stroke had come that had laid their comrade low.\n\nBut Schwartz Carl did not give them time to discover that; there was no\nchance to string his cumbersome weapon again; down he flung it upon the\nground. \"To arms!\" he roared in a voice of thunder, and then clapped to\nthe door of Melchior's tower and shot the great iron bolts with a clang\nand rattle.\n\nThe next instant the Trutz-Drachen men were thundering at the door, but\nSchwartz Carl was already far up the winding steps.\n\nBut now the others came pouring out from the gateway. \"To the house,\"\nroared Baron Henry.\n\nThen suddenly a clashing, clanging uproar crashed out upon the night.\nDong! Dong! It was the great alarm bell from Melchior's tower--Schwartz\nCarl was at his post.\n\nLittle Baron Otto lay sleeping upon the great rough bed in his room,\ndreaming of the White Cross on the hill and of brother John. By and by\nhe heard the convent bell ringing, and knew that there must be visitors\nat the gate, for loud voices sounded through his dream. Presently he\nknew that he was coming awake, but though the sunny monastery garden\ngrew dimmer and dimmer to his sleeping sight, the clanging of the bell\nand the sound of shouts grew louder and louder. Then he opened his eyes.\nFlaming red lights from torches, carried hither and thither by people\nin the court-yard outside, flashed and ran along the wall of his\nroom. Hoarse shouts and cries filled the air, and suddenly the shrill,\npiercing shriek of a woman rang from wall to wall; and through the\nnoises the great bell from far above upon Melchior's tower clashed and\nclanged its harsh, resonant alarm.\n\nOtto sprang from his bed and looked out of the window and down upon\nthe court-yard below. \"Dear God! what dreadful thing hath happened?\" he\ncried and clasped his hands together.\n\nA cloud of smoke was pouring out from the windows of the building across\nthe court-yard, whence a dull ruddy glow flashed and flickered. Strange\nmen were running here and there with flaming torches, and the now\ncontinuous shrieking of women pierced the air.\n\nJust beneath the window lay the figure of a man half naked and face\ndownward upon the stones. Then suddenly Otto cried out in fear and\nhorror, for, as he looked with dazed and bewildered eyes down into the\nlurid court-yard beneath, a savage man, in a shining breast-plate and\nsteel cap, came dragging the dark, silent figure of a woman across the\nstones; but whether she was dead or in a swoon, Otto could not tell.\n\nAnd every moment the pulsing of that dull red glare from the windows of\nthe building across the court-yard shone more brightly, and the glare\nfrom other flaming buildings, which Otto could not see from his window,\nturned the black, starry night into a lurid day.\n\nJust then the door of the room was burst open, and in rushed poor old\nUrsela, crazy with her terror. She flung herself down upon the floor and\ncaught Otto around the knees. \"Save me!\" she cried, \"save me!\" as though\nthe poor, pale child could be of any help to her at such a time. In the\npassageway without shone the light of torches, and the sound of loud\nfootsteps came nearer and nearer.\n\nAnd still through all the din sounded continually the clash and clang\nand clamor of the great alarm bell.\n\nThe red light flashed into the room, and in the doorway stood a tall,\nthin figure clad from head to foot in glittering chain armor. From\nbehind this fierce knight, with his dark, narrow, cruel face, its\ndeep-set eyes glistening in the light of the torches, crowded six or\neight savage, low-browed, brutal men, who stared into the room and\nat the white-faced boy as he stood by the window with the old woman\nclinging to his knees and praying to him for help.\n\n\"We have cracked the nut and here is the kernel,\" said one of them who\nstood behind the rest, and thereupon a roar of brutal laughter went up.\nBut the cruel face of the armed knight never relaxed into a smile;\nhe strode into the room and laid his iron hand heavily upon the boy's\nshoulder. \"Art thou the young Baron Otto?\" said he, in a harsh voice.\n\n\"Aye,\" said the lad; \"but do not kill me.\"\n\nThe knight did not answer him. \"Fetch the cord hither,\" said he, \"and\ndrag the old witch away.\"\n\nIt took two of them to loosen poor old Ursela's crazy clutch from about\nher young master. Then amid roars of laughter they dragged her away,\nscreaming and scratching and striking with her fists.\n\nThey drew back Otto's arms behind his back and wrapped them round and\nround with a bowstring. Then they pushed and hustled and thrust him\nforth from the room and along the passageway, now bright with the flames\nthat roared and crackled without. Down the steep stairway they drove\nhim, where thrice he stumbled and fell amid roars of laughter. At last\nthey were out into the open air of the court-yard. Here was a terrible\nsight, but Otto saw nothing of it; his blue eyes were gazing far away,\nand his lips moved softly with the prayer that the good monks of St.\nMichaelsburg had taught him, for he thought that they meant to slay him.\n\nAll around the court-yard the flames roared and snapped and crackled.\nFour or five figures lay scattered here and there, silent in all the\nglare and uproar. The heat was so intense that they were soon forced\nback into the shelter of the great gateway, where the women captives,\nunder the guard of three or four of the Trutz-Drachen men, were crowded\ntogether in dumb, bewildered terror. Only one man was to be seen among\nthe captives, poor, old, half blind Master Rudolph, the steward,\nwho crouched tremblingly among the women. They had set the blaze to\nMelchior's tower, and now, below, it was a seething furnace. Above, the\nsmoke rolled in black clouds from the windows, but still the alarm bell\nsounded through all the blaze and smoke. Higher and higher the flames\nrose; a trickle of fire ran along the frame buildings hanging aloft in\nthe air. A clear flame burst out at the peak of the roof, but still the\nbell rang forth its clamorous clangor. Presently those who watched below\nsaw the cluster of buildings bend and sink and sway; there was a crash\nand roar, a cloud of sparks flew up as though to the very heavens\nthemselves, and the bell of Melchior's tower was stilled forever. A\ngreat shout arose from the watching, upturned faces.\n\n\"Forward!\" cried Baron Henry, and out from the gateway they swept and\nacross the drawbridge, leaving Drachenhausen behind them a flaming\nfurnace blazing against the gray of the early dawning.\n\n\n\n\nVIII. In the House of the Dragon Scorner.\n\nTall, narrow, gloomy room; no furniture but a rude bench a bare stone\nfloor, cold stone walls and a gloomy ceiling of arched stone over head;\na long, narrow slit of a window high above in the wall, through the iron\nbars of which Otto could see a small patch of blue sky and now and then\na darting swallow, for an instant seen, the next instant gone. Such\nwas the little baron's prison in Trutz-Drachen. Fastened to a bolt\nand hanging against the walls, hung a pair of heavy chains with gaping\nfetters at the ends. They were thick with rust, and the red stain of\nthe rust streaked the wall below where they hung like a smear of blood.\nLittle Otto shuddered as he looked at them; can those be meant for me,\nhe thought.\n\nNothing was to be seen but that one patch of blue sky far up in the\nwall. No sound from without was to be heard in that gloomy cell of\nstone, for the window pierced the outer wall, and the earth and its\nnoises lay far below.\n\nSuddenly a door crashed without, and the footsteps of men were heard\ncoming along the corridor. They stopped in front of Otto's cell; he\nheard the jingle of keys, and then a loud rattle of one thrust into\nthe lock of the heavy oaken door. The rusty bolt was shot back with a\nscreech, the door opened, and there stood Baron Henry, no longer in his\narmor, but clad in a long black robe that reached nearly to his feet,\na broad leather belt was girdled about his waist, and from it dangled a\nshort, heavy hunting sword.\n\nAnother man was with the Baron, a heavy-faced fellow clad in a leathern\njerkin over which was drawn a short coat of linked mail.\n\nThe two stood for a moment looking into the room, and Otto, his pale\nface glimmering in the gloom, sat upon the edge of the heavy wooden\nbench or bed, looking back at them out of his great blue eyes. Then the\ntwo entered and closed the door behind them.\n\n\"Dost thou know why thou art here?\" said the Baron, in his deep, harsh\nvoice.\n\n\"Nay,\" said Otto, \"I know not.\"\n\n\"So?\" said the Baron. \"Then I will tell thee. Three years ago the good\nBaron Frederick, my uncle, kneeled in the dust and besought mercy at thy\nfather's hands; the mercy he received was the coward blow that slew him.\nThou knowest the story?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said Otto, tremblingly, \"I know it.\"\n\n\"Then dost thou not know why I am here?\" said the Baron.\n\n\"Nay, dear Lord Baron, I know not,\" said poor little Otto, and began to\nweep.\n\nThe Baron stood for a moment or two looking gloomily upon him, as the\nlittle boy sat there with the tears running down his white face.\n\n\"I will tell thee,\" said he, at last; \"I swore an oath that the red cock\nshould crow on Drachenhausen, and I have given it to the dames. I swore\nan oath that no Vuelph that ever left my hands should be able to strike\nsuch a blow as thy father gave to Baron Frederick, and now I will fulfil\nthat too. Catch the boy, Casper, and hold him.\"\n\nAs the man in the mail shirt stepped toward little Otto, the boy leaped\nup from where he sat and caught the Baron about the knees. \"Oh! dear\nLord Baron,\" he cried, \"do not harm me; I am only a little child, I have\nnever done harm to thee; do not harm me.\"\n\n\"Take him away,\" said the Baron, harshly.\n\nThe fellow stooped, and loosening Otto's hold, in spite of his struggles\nand cries, carried him to the bench, against which he held him, whilst\nthe Baron stood above him.\n\nBaron Henry and the other came forth from the cell, carefully closing\nthe wooden door behind them. At the end of the corridor the Baron\nturned, \"Let the leech be sent to the boy,\" said he. And then he turned\nand walked away.\n\nOtto lay upon the hard couch in his cell, covered with a shaggy bear\nskin. His face was paler and thinner than ever, and dark rings encircled\nhis blue eyes. He was looking toward the door, for there was a noise of\nsomeone fumbling with the lock without.\n\nSince that dreadful day when Baron Henry had come to his cell, only two\nsouls had visited Otto. One was the fellow who had come with the Baron\nthat time; his name, Otto found, was Casper. He brought the boy his rude\nmeals of bread and meat and water. The other visitor was the leech or\ndoctor, a thin, weasand little man, with a kindly, wrinkled face and a\ngossiping tongue, who, besides binding wounds, bleeding, and leeching,\nand administering his simple remedies to those who were taken sick in\nthe castle, acted as the Baron's barber.\n\nThe Baron had left the key in the lock of the door, so that these two\nmight enter when they chose, but Otto knew that it was neither the one\nnor the other whom he now heard at the door, working uncertainly with\nthe key, striving to turn it in the rusty, cumbersome lock. At last the\nbolts grated back, there was a pause, and then the door opened a little\nway, and Otto thought that he could see someone peeping in from without.\nBy and by the door opened further, there was another pause, and then\na slender, elfish-looking little girl, with straight black hair and\nshining black eyes, crept noiselessly into the room.\n\nShe stood close by the door with her finger in her mouth, staring at\nthe boy where he lay upon his couch, and Otto upon his part lay, full of\nwonder, gazing back upon the little elfin creature.\n\nShe, seeing that he made no sign or motion, stepped a little nearer, and\nthen, after a moment's pause, a little nearer still, until, at last, she\nstood within a few feet of where he lay.\n\n\"Art thou the Baron Otto?\" said she.\n\n\"Yes,\" answered Otto.\n\n\"Prut!\" said she, \"and is that so! Why, I thought that thou wert a great\ntall fellow at least, and here thou art a little boy no older than Carl\nMax, the gooseherd.\" Then, after a little pause--\"My name is Pauline,\nand my father is the Baron. I heard him tell my mother all about thee,\nand so I wanted to come here and see thee myself: Art thou sick?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Otto, \"I am sick.\"\n\n\"And did my father hurt thee?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said Otto, and his eyes filled with tears, until one sparkling\ndrop trickled slowly down his white face.\n\nLittle Pauline stood looking seriously at him for a while. \"I am sorry\nfor thee, Otto,\" said she, at last. And then, at her childish pity, he\nbegan crying in earnest.\n\nThis was only the first visit of many from the little maid, for after\nthat she often came to Otto's prison, who began to look for her coming\nfrom day to day as the one bright spot in the darkness and the gloom.\n\nSitting upon the edge of his bed and gazing into his face with wide open\neyes, she would listen to him by the hour, as he told her of his life in\nthat far away monastery home; of poor, simple brother John's wonderful\nvisions, of the good Abbot's books with their beautiful pictures, and of\nall the monkish tales and stories of knights and dragons and heroes and\nemperors of ancient Rome, which brother Emmanuel had taught him to read\nin the crabbed monkish Latin in which they were written.\n\nOne day the little maid sat for a long while silent after he had ended\nspeaking. At last she drew a deep breath. \"And are all these things that\nthou tellest me about the priests in their castle really true?\" said\nshe.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Otto, \"all are true.\"\n\n\"And do they never go out to fight other priests?\"\n\n\"No,\" said Otto, \"they know nothing of fighting.\"\n\n\"So!\" said she. And then fell silent in the thought of the wonder of\nit all, and that there should be men in the world that knew nothing of\nviolence and bloodshed; for in all the eight years of her life she had\nscarcely been outside of the walls of Castle Trutz-Drachen.\n\nAt another time it was of Otto's mother that they were speaking.\n\n\"And didst thou never see her, Otto?\" said the little girl.\n\n\"Aye,\" said Otto, \"I see her sometimes in my dreams, and her face always\nshines so bright that I know she is an angel; for brother John has often\nseen the dear angels, and he tells me that their faces always shine in\nthat way. I saw her the night thy father hurt me so, for I could not\nsleep and my head felt as though it would break asunder. Then she\ncame and leaned over me and kissed my forehead, and after that I fell\nasleep.\"\n\n\"But where did she come from, Otto?\" said the little girl.\n\n\"From paradise, I think,\" said Otto, with that patient seriousness that\nhe had caught from the monks, and that sat so quaintly upon him.\n\n\"So!\" said little Pauline; and then, after a pause, \"That is why thy\nmother kissed thee when thy head ached--because she is an angel. When\nI was sick my mother bade Gretchen carry me to a far part of the house,\nbecause I cried and so troubled her. Did thy mother ever strike thee,\nOtto?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Otto.\n\n\"Mine hath often struck me,\" said Pauline.\n\nOne day little Pauline came bustling into Otto's cell, her head full of\nthe news which she carried. \"My father says that thy father is out\nin the woods somewhere yonder, back of the castle, for Fritz, the\nswineherd, told my father that last night he had seen a fire in the\nwoods, and that he had crept up to it without anyone knowing. There he\nhad seen the Baron Conrad and six of his men, and that they were eating\none of the swine that they had killed and roasted. Maybe,\" said she,\nseating herself upon the edge of Otto's couch; \"maybe my father will\nkill thy father, and they will bring him here and let him lie upon a\nblack bed with bright candles burning around him, as they did my uncle\nFrederick when he was killed.\"\n\n\"God forbid!\" said Otto, and then lay for a while with his hands\nclasped. \"Dost thou love me, Pauline?\" said he, after a while.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Pauline, \"for thou art a good child, though my father says\nthat thy wits are cracked.\"\n\n\"Mayhap they are,\" said Otto, simply, \"for I have often been told so\nbefore. But thou wouldst not see me die, Pauline; wouldst thou?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Pauline, \"I would not see thee die, for then thou couldst\ntell me no more stories; for they told me that uncle Frederick could not\nspeak because he was dead.\"\n\n\"Then listen, Pauline,\" said Otto; \"if I go not away from here I shall\nsurely die. Every day I grow more sick and the leech cannot cure me.\"\nHere he broke down and, turning his face upon the couch, began crying,\nwhile little Pauline sat looking seriously at him.\n\n\"Why dost thou cry, Otto?\" said she, after a while.\n\n\"Because,\" said he, \"I am so sick, and I want my father to come and take\nme away from here.\"\n\n\"But why dost thou want to go away?\" said Pauline. \"If thy father takes\nthee away, thou canst not tell me any more stories.\"\n\n\"Yes, I can,\" said Otto, \"for when I grow to be a man I will come\nagain and marry thee, and when thou art my wife I can tell thee all the\nstories that I know. Dear Pauline, canst thou not tell my father where I\nam, that he may come here and take me away before I die?\"\n\n\"Mayhap I could do so,\" said Pauline, after a little while, \"for\nsometimes I go with Casper Max to see his mother, who nursed me when I\nwas a baby. She is the wife of Fritz, the swineherd, and she will make\nhim tell thy father; for she will do whatever I ask of her, and Fritz\nwill do whatever she bids him do.\"\n\n\"And for my sake, wilt thou tell him, Pauline?\" said Otto.\n\n\"But see, Otto,\" said the little girl, \"if I tell him, wilt thou promise\nto come indeed and marry me when thou art grown a man?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Otto, very seriously, \"I will promise.\"\n\n\"Then I will tell thy father where thou art,\" said she.\n\n\"But thou wilt do it without the Baron Henry knowing, wilt thou not,\nPauline?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said she, \"for if my father and my mother knew that I did such\na thing, they would strike me, mayhap send me to my bed alone in the\ndark.\"\n\n\n\n\nIX. How One-eyed Hans came to Trutz-Drachen.\n\nFritz, the swineherd, sat eating his late supper of porridge out of a\ngreat, coarse, wooden bowl; wife Katherine sat at the other end of the\ntable, and the half-naked little children played upon the earthen floor.\nA shaggy dog lay curled up in front of the fire, and a grunting pig\nscratched against a leg of the rude table close beside where the woman\nsat.\n\n\"Yes, yes,\" said Katherine, speaking of the matter of which they had\nalready been talking. \"It is all very true that the Drachenhausens are a\nbad lot, and I for one am of no mind to say no to that; all the same it\nis a sad thing that a simple-witted little child like the young Baron\nshould be so treated as the boy has been; and now that our Lord Baron\nhas served him so that he, at least, will never be able to do us 'harm,\nI for one say that he should not be left there to die alone in that\nblack cell.\"\n\nFritz, the swineherd, gave a grunt at this without raising his eyes from\nthe bowl.\n\n\"Yes, good,\" said Katherine, \"I know what thou meanest, Fritz, and that\nit is none of my business to be thrusting my finger into the Baron's\ndish. But to hear the way that dear little child spoke when she was here\nthis morn--it would have moved a heart of stone to hear her tell of all\nhis pretty talk. Thou wilt try to let the red-beard know that that poor\nboy, his son, is sick to death in the black cell; wilt thou not, Fritz?\"\n\nThe swineherd dropped his wooden spoon into the bowl with a clatter.\n\"Potstausand!\" he cried; \"art thou gone out of thy head to let thy wits\nrun upon such things as this of which thou talkest to me? If it should\ncome to our Lord Baron's ears he would cut the tongue from out thy head\nand my head from off my shoulders for it. Dost thou think I am going to\nmeddle in such a matter as this? Listen! these proud Baron folk, with\ntheir masterful ways, drive our sort hither and thither; they beat us,\nthey drive us, they kill us as they choose. Our lives are not as much\nto them as one of my black swine. Why should I trouble my head if they\nchoose to lop and trim one another? The fewer there are of them the\nbetter for us, say I. We poor folk have a hard enough life of it without\nthrusting our heads into the noose to help them out of their troubles.\nWhat thinkest thou would happen to us if Baron Henry should hear of our\nbetraying his affairs to the Red-beard?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Katherine, \"thou hast naught to do in the matter but to tell\nthe Red-beard in what part of the castle the little Baron lies.\"\n\n\"And what good would that do?\" said Fritz, the swineherd.\n\n\"I know not,\" said Katherine, \"but I have promised the little one that\nthou wouldst find the Baron Conrad and tell him that much.\"\n\n\"Thou hast promised a mare's egg,\" said her husband, angrily. \"How shall\nI find the Baron Conrad to bear a message to him, when our Baron has\nbeen looking for him in vain for two days past?\"\n\n\"Thou has found him once and thou mayst find him again,\" said Katherine,\n\"for it is not likely that he will keep far away from here whilst his\nboy is in such sore need of help.\"\n\n\"I will have nothing to do with it!\" said Fritz, and he got up from the\nwooden block whereon he was sitting and stumped out of the house. But,\nthen, Katherine had heard him talk in that way before, and knew, in\nspite of his saying \"no,\" that, sooner or later, he would do as she\nwished.\n\nTwo days later a very stout little one-eyed man, clad in a leathern\njerkin and wearing a round leathern cap upon his head, came toiling up\nthe path to the postern door of Trutz-Drachen, his back bowed under the\nburthen of a great peddler's pack. It was our old friend the one-eyed\nHans, though even his brother would hardly have known him in his present\nguise, for, besides having turned peddler, he had grown of a sudden\nsurprisingly fat.\n\nRap-tap-tap! He knocked at the door with a knotted end of the crooked\nthorned staff upon which he leaned. He waited for a while and then\nknocked again--rap-tap-tap!\n\nPresently, with a click, a little square wicket that pierced the door\nwas opened, and a woman's face peered out through the iron bars.\n\nThe one-eyed Hans whipped off his leathern cap.\n\n\"Good day, pretty one,\" said he, \"and hast thou any need of glass beads,\nribbons, combs, or trinkets? Here I am come all the way from Gruenstadt,\nwith a pack full of such gay things as thou never laid eyes on before.\nHere be rings and bracelets and necklaces that might be of pure silver\nand set with diamonds and rubies, for anything that thy dear one could\ntell if he saw thee decked in them. And all are so cheap that thou hast\nonly to say, 'I want them,' and they are thine.\"\n\nThe frightened face at the window looked from right to left and from\nleft to right. \"Hush,\" said the girl, and laid her finger upon her lips.\n\"There! thou hadst best get away from here, poor soul, as fast as thy\nlegs can carry thee, for if the Lord Baron should find thee here talking\nsecretly at the postern door, he would loose the wolf-hounds upon thee.\"\n\n\"Prut,\" said one-eyed Hans, with a grin, \"the Baron is too big a fly to\nsee such a little gnat as I; but wolf-hounds or no wolf-hounds, I\ncan never go hence without showing thee the pretty things that I have\nbrought from the town, even though my stay be at the danger of my own\nhide.\"\n\nHe flung the pack from off his shoulders as he spoke and fell to\nunstrapping it, while the round face of the lass (her eyes big with\ncuriosity) peered down at him through the grated iron bars.\n\nHans held up a necklace of blue and white beads that glistened like\njewels in the sun, and from them hung a gorgeous filigree cross. \"Didst\nthou ever see a sweeter thing than this?\" said he; \"and look, here is a\ncomb that even the silversmith would swear was pure silver all the way\nthrough.\" Then, in a soft, wheedling voice, \"Canst thou not let me in,\nmy little bird? Sure there are other lasses besides thyself who would\nlike to trade with a poor peddler who has travelled all the way from\nGruenstadt just to please the pretty ones of Trutz-Drachen.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said the lass, in a frightened voice, \"I cannot let thee in; I\nknow not what the Baron would do to me, even now, if he knew that I was\nhere talking to a stranger at the postern;\" and she made as if she would\nclap to the little window in his face; but the one-eyed Hans thrust his\nstaff betwixt the bars and so kept the shutter open.\n\n\"Nay, nay,\" said he, eagerly, \"do not go away from me too soon. Look,\ndear one; seest thou this necklace?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said she, looking hungrily at it.\n\n\"Then listen; if thou wilt but let me into the castle, so that I may\nstrike a trade, I will give it to thee for thine own without thy paying\na barley corn for it.\"\n\nThe girl looked and hesitated, and then looked again; the temptation was\ntoo great. There was a noise of softly drawn bolts and bars, the door\nwas hesitatingly opened a little way, and, in a twinkling, the one-eyed\nHans had slipped inside the castle, pack and all.\n\n\"The necklace,\" said the girl, in a frightened whisper.\n\nHans thrust it into her hand. \"It's thine,\" said he, \"and now wilt thou\nnot help me to a trade?\"\n\n\"I will tell my sister that thou art here,\" said she, and away she ran\nfrom the little stone hallway, carefully bolting and locking the further\ndoor behind her.\n\nThe door that the girl had locked was the only one that connected the\npostern hail with the castle.\n\nThe one-eyed Hans stood looking after her. \"Thou fool!\" he muttered to\nhimself, \"to lock the door behind thee. What shall I do next, I should\nlike to know? Here am I just as badly off as I was when I stood outside\nthe walls. Thou hussy! If thou hadst but let me into the castle for only\ntwo little minutes, I would have found somewhere to have hidden myself\nwhile thy back was turned. But what shall I do now?\" He rested his pack\nupon the floor and stood looking about him.\n\nBuilt in the stone wall opposite to him, was a high, narrow fireplace\nwithout carving of any sort. As Hans' one eye wandered around the bare\nstone space, his glance fell at last upon it, and there it rested. For\na while he stood looking intently at it, presently he began rubbing his\nhand over his bristling chin in a thoughtful, meditative manner. Finally\nhe drew a deep breath, and giving himself a shake as though to arouse\nhimself from his thoughts, and after listening a moment or two to\nmake sure that no one was nigh, he walked softly to the fireplace, and\nstooping, peered up the chimney. Above him yawned a black cavernous\ndepth, inky with the soot of years. Hans straightened himself, and\ntilting his leathern cap to one side, began scratching his bullet-head;\nat last he drew a long breath. \"Yes, good,\" he muttered to himself; \"he\nwho jumps into the river must e'en swim the best he can. It is a vile,\ndirty place to thrust one's self; but I am in for it now, and must make\nthe best of a lame horse.\"\n\nHe settled the cap more firmly upon his head, spat upon his hands, and\nonce more stooping in the fireplace, gave a leap, and up the chimney he\nwent with a rattle of loose mortar and a black trickle of soot.\n\nBy and by footsteps sounded outside the door. There was a pause; a\nhurried whispering of women's voices; the twitter of a nervous laugh,\nand then the door was pushed softly opens and the girl to whom the\none-eyed Hans had given the necklace of blue and white beads with the\nfiligree cross hanging from it, peeped uncertainly into the room. Behind\nher broad, heavy face were three others, equally homely and stolid; for\na while all four stood there, looking blankly into the room and around\nit. Nothing was there but the peddler's knapsack lying in the middle of\nthe floor-the man was gone. The light of expectancy slowly faded Out of\nthe girl's face, and in its place succeeded first bewilderment and then\ndull alarm. \"But, dear heaven,\" she said, \"where then has the peddler\nman gone?\"\n\nA moment or two of silence followed her speech. \"Perhaps,\" said one of\nthe others, in a voice hushed with awe, \"perhaps it was the evil one\nhimself to whom thou didst open the door.\"\n\nAgain there was a hushed and breathless pause; it was the lass who had\nlet Hans in at the postern, who next spoke.\n\n\"Yes,\" said she, in a voice trembling with fright at what she had done,\n\"yes, it must have been the evil one, for now I remember he had but one\neye.\" The four girls crossed themselves, and their eyes grew big and\nround with the fright.\n\nSuddenly a shower of mortar came rattling down the chimney. \"Ach!\" cried\nthe four, as with one voice. Bang! the door was clapped to and away they\nscurried like a flock of frightened rabbits.\n\nWhen Jacob, the watchman, came that way an hour later, upon his evening\nround of the castle, he found a peddler's knapsack lying in the middle\nof the floor. He turned it over with his pike-staff and saw that it was\nfull of beads and trinkets and ribbons.\n\n\"How came this here?\" said he. And then, without waiting for the answer\nwhich he did not expect, he flung it over his shoulder and marched away\nwith it.\n\n\n\n\nX. How Hans Brought Terror to the Kitchen.\n\nHans found himself in a pretty pickle in the chimney, for the soot got\ninto his one eye and set it to watering, and into his nose and set him\nto sneezing, and into his mouth and his ears and his hair. But still\nhe struggled on, up and up; \"for every chimney has a top,\" said Hans\nto himself \"and I am sure to climb out somewhere or other.\" Suddenly he\ncame to a place where another chimney joined the one he was climbing,\nand here he stopped to consider the matter at his leisure. \"See now,\" he\nmuttered, \"if I still go upward I may come out at the top of some tall\nchimney-stack with no way of getting down outside. Now, below here\nthere must be a fire-place somewhere, for a chimney does not start from\nnothing at all; yes, good! we will go down a while and see what we make\nof that.\"\n\nIt was a crooked, zigzag road that he had to travel, and rough and hard\ninto the bargain. His one eye tingled and smarted, and his knees and\nelbows were rubbed to the quick; nevertheless One-eyed Hans had been in\nworse trouble than this in his life.\n\nDown he went and down he went, further than he had climbed upward\nbefore. \"Sure, I must be near some place or other,\" he thought.\n\nAs though in instant answer to his thoughts, he heard the sudden sound\nof a voice so close beneath him that he stopped short in his downward\nclimbing and stood as still as a mouse, with his heart in his mouth.\nA few inches more and he would have been discovered;--what would have\nhappened then would have been no hard matter to foretell.\n\nHans braced his back against one side of the chimney, his feet against\nthe other and then, leaning forward, looked down between his knees. The\ngray light of the coming evening glimmered in a wide stone fireplace\njust below him. Within the fireplace two people were moving about upon\nthe broad hearth, a great, fat woman and a shock-headed boy. The woman\nheld a spit with two newly trussed fowls upon it, so that One-eyed Hans\nknew that she must be the cook.\n\n\"Thou ugly toad,\" said the woman to the boy, \"did I not bid thee make a\nfire an hour ago? and now, here there is not so much as a spark to roast\nthe fowls withall, and they to be basted for the lord Baron's supper.\nWhere hast thou been for all this time?\"\n\n\"No matter,\" said the boy, sullenly, as he laid the fagots ready for the\nlighting; \"no matter, I was not running after Long Jacob, the bowman, to\ntry to catch him for a sweetheart, as thou hast been doing.\"\n\nThe reply was instant and ready. The cook raised her hand; \"smack!\" she\nstruck and a roar from the scullion followed.\n\n\"Yes, good,\" thought Hans, as he looked down upon them; \"I am glad that\nthe boy's ear was not on my head.\"\n\n\"Now give me no more of thy talk,\" said the woman, \"but do the work\nthat thou hast been bidden.\" Then--\"How came all this black soot here, I\nshould like to know?\"\n\n\"How should I know?\" snuffled the scullion, \"mayhap thou wouldst blame\nthat on me also?\"\n\n\"That is my doing,\" whispered Hans to himself; \"but if they light the\nfire, what then becomes of me?\"\n\n\"See now,\" said the cook; \"I go to make the cakes ready; if I come back\nand find that thou hast not built the fire, I will warm thy other ear\nfor thee.\"\n\n\"So,\" thought Hans; \"then will be my time to come down the chimney, for\nthere will be but one of them.\"\n\nThe next moment he heard the door close and knew that the cook had gone\nto make the cakes ready as she said. And as he looked down he saw that\nthe boy was bending over the bundle of fagots, blowing the spark that\nhe had brought in upon the punk into a flame. The dry fagots began to\ncrackle and blaze. \"Now is my time,\" said Hans to himself. Bracing his\nelbows against each side of the chimney, he straightened his legs so\nthat he might fall clear His motions loosened little shower of soot that\nfell rattling upon the fagots that were now beginning to blaze brightly,\nwhereupon the boy raised his face and looked up. Hans loosened his hold\nupon the chimney; crash! he fell, lighting upon his feet in the midst\nof the burning fagots. The scullion boy tumbled backward upon the floor,\nwhere he lay upon the broad of his back with a face as white as\ndough and eyes and mouth agape, staring speechlessly at the frightful\ninky-black figure standing in the midst of the flames and smoke. Then\nhis scattered wits came back to him. \"It is the evil one,\" he roared.\nAnd thereupon, turning upon his side, he half rolled, half scrambled to\nthe door. Then out he leaped and, banging it to behind him, flew down\nthe passageway, yelling with fright and never daring once to look behind\nhim.\n\nAll the time One-eyed Hans was brushing away the sparks that clung to\nhis clothes. He was as black as ink from head to foot with the soot from\nthe chimney.\n\n\"So far all is good,\" he muttered to himself, \"but if I go wandering\nabout in my sooty shoes I will leave black tracks to follow me, so there\nis nothing to do but e'en to go barefoot.\"\n\nHe stooped and drawing the pointed soft leather shoes from his feet, he\nthrew them upon the now blazing fagots, where they writhed and twisted\nand wrinkled, and at last burst into a flame. Meanwhile Hans lost no\ntime; he must find a hiding-place, and quickly, if he would yet hope\nto escape. A great bread trough stood in the corner of the kitchen--a\nhopper-shaped chest with a flat lid. It was the best hiding place that\nthe room afforded. Without further thought Hans ran to it, snatching up\nfrom the table as he passed a loaf of black bread and a bottle half full\nof stale wine, for he had had nothing to eat since that morning. Into\nthe great bread trough he climbed, and drawing the lid down upon him,\ncurled himself up as snugly as a mouse in its nest.\n\nFor a while the kitchen lay in silence, but at last the sound of voices\nwas heard at the door, whispering together in low tones. Suddenly the\ndoor was flung open and a tall, lean, lantern-jawed fellow, clad in\nrough frieze, strode into the room and stood there glaring with half\nfrightened boldness around about him; three or four women and the\ntrembling scullion crowded together in a frightened group behind him.\n\nThe man was Long Jacob, the bowman; but, after all, his boldness was\nall wasted, for not a thread or a hair was to be seen, but only the\ncrackling fire throwing its cheerful ruddy glow upon the wall of the\nroom, now rapidly darkening in the falling gray of the twilight without.\n\nThe fat cook's fright began rapidly to turn into anger.\n\n\"Thou imp,\" she cried, \"it is one of thy tricks,\" and she made a dive\nfor the scullion, who ducked around the skirts of one of the other women\nand so escaped for the time; but Long Jacob wrinkled up his nose and\nsniffed. \"Nay,\" said he, \"me thinks that there lieth some truth in the\ntale that the boy hath told, for here is a vile smell of burned horn\nthat the black one bath left behind him.\"\n\nIt was the smell from the soft leather shoes that Hans had burned.\n\nThe silence of night had fallen over the Castle of Trutz-Drachen; not\na sound was heard but the squeaking of mice scurring behind the\nwainscoting, the dull dripping of moisture from the eaves, or the\nsighing of the night wind around the gables and through the naked\nwindows of the castle.\n\nThe lid of the great dough trough was softly raised, and a face, black\nwith soot, peeped cautiously out from under it. Then little by little\narose a figure as black as the face; and One-eyed Hans stepped out upon\nthe floor, stretching and rubbing himself.\n\n\"Methinks I must have slept,\" he muttered. \"Hui, I am as stiff as a new\nleather doublet, and now, what next is to become of me? I hope my luck\nmay yet stick to me, in spite of this foul black soot!\"\n\nAlong the middle of the front of the great hall of the castle, ran a\nlong stone gallery, opening at one end upon the court-yard by a high\nflight of stone steps. A man-at-arms in breast-plate and steel cap, and\nbearing a long pike, paced up and down the length of this gallery, now\nand then stopping, leaning over the edge, and gazing up into the starry\nsky above; then, with a long drawn yawn, lazily turning back to the\nmonotonous watch again.\n\nA dark figure crept out from an arched doorway at the lower part of the\nlong straight building, and some little distance below the end gallery,\nbut the sentry saw nothing of it, for his back was turned. As silently\nand as stealthily as a cat the figure crawled along by the dark shadowy\nwall, now and then stopping, and then again creeping slowly forward\ntoward the gallery where the man-at-arms moved monotonously up and down.\nIt was One-eyed Hans in his bare feet.\n\nInch by inch, foot by foot--the black figure crawled along in the angle\nof the wall; inch by inch and foot by foot, but ever nearer and nearer\nto the long straight row of stone steps that led to the covered gallery.\nAt last it crouched at the lowest step of the flight. Just then the\nsentinel upon watch came to the very end of the gallery and stood there\nleaning upon his spear. Had he looked down below he could not have\nfailed to have seen One-eyed Hans lying there motionlessly; but he was\ngazing far away over the steep black roofs beyond, and never saw the\nunsuspected presence. Minute after minute passed, and the one stood\nthere looking out into the night and the other lay crouching by the\nwall; then with a weary sigh the sentry turned and began slowly pacing\nback again toward the farther end of the gallery.\n\nInstantly the motionless figure below arose and glided noiselessly and\nswiftly up the flight of steps.\n\nTwo rude stone pillars flanked either side of the end of the gallery.\nLike a shadow the black figure slipped behind one of these, flattening\nitself up against the wall, where it stood straight and motionless as\nthe shadows around it.\n\nDown the long gallery came the watchman, his sword clinking loudly in\nthe silence as he walked, tramp, tramp, tramp! clink, clank, jingle.\n\nWithin three feet of the motionless figure behind the pillar he turned,\nand began retracing his monotonous steps. Instantly the other left the\nshadow of the post and crept rapidly and stealthily after him. One step,\ntwo steps the sentinel took; for a moment the black figure behind him\nseemed to crouch and draw together, then like a flash it leaped forward\nupon its victim.\n\nA shadowy cloth fell upon the man's face, and in an instant he was flung\nback and down with a muffled crash upon the stones. Then followed a\nfierce and silent struggle in the darkness, but strong and sturdy as the\nman was, he was no match for the almost superhuman strength of One-eyed\nHans. The cloth which he had flung over his head was tied tightly and\nsecurely. Then the man was forced upon his face and, in spite of his\nfierce struggles, his arms were bound around and around with strong fine\ncord; next his feet were bound in the same way, and the task was done.\nThen Hans stood upon his feet, and wiped the sweat from his swarthy\nforehead. \"Listen, brother,\" he whispered, and as he spoke he stooped\nand pressed something cold and hard against the neck of the other.\n\"Dost thou know the feel of this? It is a broad dagger, and if thou\ndost contrive to loose that gag from thy mouth and makest any outcry, it\nshall be sheathed in thy weasand.\"\n\nSo saying, he thrust the knife back again into its sheath, then stooping\nand picking up the other, he flung him across his shoulder like a sack,\nand running down the steps as lightly as though his load was nothing at\nall, he carried his burden to the arched doorway whence he had come a\nlittle while before. There, having first stripped his prisoner of\nall his weapons, Hans sat the man up in the angle of the wall. \"So,\nbrother;\" said he, \"now we can talk with more ease than we could up\nyonder. I will tell thee frankly why I am here; it is to find where the\nyoung Baron Otto of Drachenhausen is kept. If thou canst tell me,\nwell and good; if not, I must e'en cut thy weasand and find me one who\nknoweth more. Now, canst thou tell me what I would learn, brother?\"\n\nThe other nodded dimly in the darkness.\n\n\"That is good,\" said Hans, \"then I will loose thy gag until thou hast\ntold me; only bear in mind what I said concerning my dagger.\"\n\nThereupon, he unbound his prisoner, and the fellow slowly rose to his\nfeet. He shook himself and looked all about him in a heavy, bewildered\nfashion, as though he had just awakened from a dream.\n\nHis right hand slid furtively down to his side, but the dagger-sheath\nwas empty.\n\n\"Come, brother!\" said Hans, impatiently, \"time is passing, and once lost\ncan never be found again. Show me the way to the young Baron Otto or--.\"\nAnd he whetted the shining blade of his dagger on his horny palm.\n\nThe fellow needed no further bidding; turning, he led the way, and\ntogether they were swallowed up in the yawning shadows, and again the\nhush of night-time lay upon the Castle of Trutz-Drachen.\n\n\n\n\nXI. How Otto was Saved.\n\nLittle Otto was lying upon the hard couch in his cell, tossing in\nrestless and feverish sleep; suddenly a heavy hand was laid upon him and\na voice whispered in his ear, \"Baron, Baron Otto, waken, rouse yourself;\nI am come to help you. I am One-eyed Hans.\"\n\nOtto was awake in an instant and raised himself upon his elbow in the\ndarkness. \"One-eyed Hans,\" he breathed, \"One-eyed Hans; who is One-eyed\nHans?\"\n\n\"True,\" said the other, \"thou dost not know me. I am thy father's\ntrusted servant, and am the only one excepting his own blood and kin\nwho has clung to him in this hour of trouble. Yes, all are gone but me\nalone, and so I have come to help thee away from this vile place.\"\n\n\"Oh, dear, good Hans! if only thou canst!\" cried Otto; \"if only thou\ncanst take me away from this wicked place. Alas, dear Hans! I am weary\nand sick to death.\" And poor little Otto began to weep silently in the\ndarkness.\n\n\"Aye, aye,\" said Hans, gruffly, \"it is no place for a little child\nto be. Canst thou climb, my little master? canst thou climb a knotted\nrope?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Otto, \"I can never climb again! See, Hans;\" and he flung\nback the covers from off him.\n\n\"I cannot see,\" said Hans, \"it is too dark.\"\n\n\"Then feel, dear Hans,\" said Otto.\n\nHans bent over the poor little white figure glimmering palely in the\ndarkness. Suddenly he drew back with a snarl like an angry wolf. \"Oh!\nthe black, bloody wretches!\" he cried, hoarsely; \"and have they done\nthat to thee, a little child?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Otto, \"the Baron Henry did it.\" And then again he began to\ncry.\n\n\"There, there,\" said Hans, roughly, \"weep no more. Thou shalt get away\nfrom here even if thou canst not climb; I myself will help thee. Thy\nfather is already waiting below the window here, and thou shalt soon be\nwith him. There, there, cry no more.\"\n\nWhile he was speaking Hans had stripped off his peddler's leathern\njacket, and there, around his body, was wrapped coil after coil of stout\nhempen rope tied in knots at short distances. He began unwinding the\nrope, and when he had done he was as thin as ever he had been before.\nNext he drew from the pouch that hung at his side a ball of fine cord\nand a leaden weight pierced by a hole, both of which he had brought with\nhim for the use to which he now put them. He tied the lead to the end of\nthe cord, then whirling the weight above his head, he flung it up toward\nthe window high above. Twice the piece of lead fell back again into the\nroom; the third time it flew out between the iron bars carrying the cord\nwith it. Hans held the ball in his hand and paid out the string as the\nweight carried it downward toward the ground beneath. Suddenly the cord\nstopped running. Hans jerked it and shook it, but it moved no farther.\n\"Pray heaven, little child,\" said he, \"that it hath reached the ground,\nfor if it hath not we are certainly lost.\"\n\n\"I do pray,\" said Otto, and he bowed his head.\n\nThen, as though in answer to his prayer, there came a twitch upon the\ncord.\n\n\"See,\" said Hans, \"they have heard thee up above in heaven; it was thy\nfather who did that.\" Quickly and deftly he tied the cord to the end of\nthe knotted rope; then he gave an answering jerk upon the string. The\nnext moment the rope was drawn up to the window and down the outside by\nthose below. Otto lay watching the rope as it crawled up to the window\nand out into the night like a great snake, while One-eyed Hans held the\nother end lest it should be drawn too far. At last it stopped. \"Good,\"\nmuttered Hans, as though to himself. \"The rope is long enough.\"\n\nHe waited for a few minutes and then, drawing upon the rope and finding\nthat it was held from below, he spat upon his hands and began slowly\nclimbing up to the window above. Winding his arm around the iron bars of\nthe grating that guarded it, he thrust his hand into the pouch that hung\nby his side, and drawing forth a file, fell to work cutting through all\nthat now lay between Otto and liberty.\n\nIt was slow, slow work, and it seemed to Otto as though Hans would never\nfinish his task, as lying upon his hard couch he watched that figure,\nblack against the sky, bending over its work. Now and then the file\nscreeched against the hard iron, and then Hans would cease for a moment,\nbut only to begin again as industriously as ever. Three or four times he\ntried the effects of his work, but still the iron held. At last he\nset his shoulder against it, and as Otto looked he saw the iron bend.\nSuddenly there was a sharp crack, and a piece of the grating went flying\nout into the night.\n\nHans tied the rope securely about the stump of the stout iron bar that\nyet remained, and then slid down again into the room below.\n\n\"My little lord,\" said he, \"dost thou think that if I carry thee, thou\nwilt be able and strong enough to cling to my neck?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said Otto, \"methinks I will be able to do that.\"\n\n\"Then come,\" said Hans.\n\nHe stooped as he spoke, and gently lifting Otto from his rude and rugged\nbed he drew his broad leathern belt around them both, buckling it firmly\nand securely. \"It does not hurt thee?\" said he.\n\n\"Not much,\" whispered Otto faintly.\n\nThen Hans spat upon his hands, and began slowly climbing the rope.\n\nThey reached the edge of the window and there they rested for a moment,\nand Otto renewed his hold around the neck of the faithful Hans.\n\n\"And now art thou ready?\" said Hans\n\n\"Aye,\" said Otto.\n\n\"Then courage,\" said Hans, and he turned and swung his leg over the\nabyss below.\n\nThe next moment they were hanging in mid-air.\n\nOtto looked down and gave a gasp. \"The mother of heaven bless us,\" he\nwhispered, and then closed his eyes, faint and dizzy at the sight of\nthat sheer depth beneath. Hans said nothing, but shutting his teeth\nand wrapping his legs around the rope, he began slowly descending, hand\nunder hand. Down, down, down he went, until to Otto, with his eyes shut\nand his head leaning upon Hans' shoulder, it seemed as though it could\nnever end. Down, down, down. Suddenly he felt Hans draw a deep breath;\nthere was a slight jar, and Otto opened his eyes; Hans was standing upon\nthe ground.\n\nA figure wrapped in a dark cloak arose from the shadow of the wall, and\ntook Otto in its arms. It was Baron Conrad.\n\n\"My son--my little child!\" he cried, in a choked, trembling voice, and\nthat was all. And Otto pressed his cheek against his father's and began\ncrying.\n\nSuddenly the Baron gave a sharp, fierce cry. \"Dear Heaven!\" he cried;\n\"what have they done to thee?\" But poor little Otto could not answer.\n\n\"Oh!\" gasped the Baron, in a strangled voice, \"my little child! my\nlittle child!\" And therewith he broke down, and his whole body shook\nwith fierce, dry sobs; for men in those days did not seek to hide their\ngrief as they do now, but were fierce and strong in the expression of\nthat as of all else.\n\n\"Never mind, dear father,\" whispered Otto; \"it did not hurt me so very\nmuch,\" and he pressed his lips against his father's cheek.\n\nLittle Otto had but one hand.\n\n\n\n\nXII. A Ride For Life.\n\nBut not yet was Otto safe, and all danger past and gone by. Suddenly, as\nthey stood there, the harsh clangor of a bell broke the silence of\nthe starry night above their heads, and as they raised their faces and\nlooked up, they saw lights flashing from window to window. Presently\ncame the sound of a hoarse voice shouting something that, from the\ndistance, they could not understand.\n\nOne-eyed Hans smote his hand upon his thigh. Look said he, \"here is\nwhat comes of having a soft heart in one's bosom. I overcame and bound a\nwatchman up yonder, and forced him to tell me where our young Baron lay.\nIt was on my mind to run my knife into him after he had told me every\nthing, but then, bethinking how the young Baron hated the thought of\nbloodshed, I said to myself, 'No, Hans, I will spare the villain's\nlife.' See now what comes of being merciful; here, by hook or by crook,\nthe fellow has loosed himself from his bonds, and brings the whole\ncastle about our ears like a nest of wasps.\"\n\n\"We must fly,\" said the Baron; \"for nothing else in the world is\nleft me, now that all have deserted me in this black time of trouble,\nexcepting these six faithful ones.\"\n\nHis voice was bitter, bitter, as he spoke; then stooping, he raised Otto\nin his arms, and bearing him gently, began rapidly descending the rocky\nslope to the level road that ran along the edge of the hill beneath.\nClose behind him followed the rest; Hans still grimed with soot and in\nhis bare feet. A little distance from the road and under the shade of\nthe forest trees, seven horses stood waiting. The Baron mounted upon\nhis great black charger, seating little Otto upon the saddle in front of\nhim. \"Forward!\" he cried, and away they clattered and out upon the road.\nThen--\"To St. Michaelsburg,\" said Baron Conrad, in his deep voice, and\nthe horses' heads were turned to the westward, and away they galloped\nthrough the black shadows of the forest, leaving Trutz-Drachen behind\nthem.\n\nBut still the sound of the alarm bell rang through the beating of the\nhorses' hoofs, and as Hans looked over his shoulder, he saw the light\nof torches flashing hither and thither along the outer walls in front of\nthe great barbican.\n\nIn Castle Trutz-Drachen all was confusion and uproar: flashing torches\nlit up the dull gray walls; horses neighed and stamped, and men shouted\nand called to one another in the bustle of making ready. Presently Baron\nHenry came striding along the corridor clad in light armor, which he had\nhastily donned when roused from his sleep by the news that his prisoner\nhad escaped. Below in the courtyard his horse was standing, and without\nwaiting for assistance, he swung himself into the saddle. Then away they\nall rode and down the steep path, armor ringing, swords clanking, and\niron-shod hoofs striking sparks of fire from the hard stones. At their\nhead rode Baron Henry; his triangular shield hung over his shoulder, and\nin his hand he bore a long, heavy, steel-pointed lance with a pennant\nflickering darkly from the end.\n\nAt the high-road at the base of the slope they paused, for they were at\na loss to know which direction the fugitives had taken; a half a score\nof the retainers leaped from their horses, and began hurrying about\nhither and thither, and up and down, like hounds searching for the lost\nscent, and all the time Baron Henry sat still as a rock in the midst of\nthe confusion.\n\nSuddenly a shout was raised from the forest just beyond the road; they\nhad come upon the place where the horses had been tied. It was an easy\nmatter to trace the way that Baron Conrad and his followers had taken\nthence back to the high-road, but there again they were at a loss. The\nroad ran straight as an arrow eastward and westward--had the fugitives\ntaken their way to the east or to the west?\n\nBaron Henry called his head-man, Nicholas Stein, to him, and the\ntwo spoke together for a while in an undertone. At last the Baron's\nlieutenant reined his horse back, and choosing first one and then\nanother, divided the company into two parties. The baron placed himself\nat the head of one band and Nicholas Stein at the head of the other.\n\"Forward!\" he cried, and away clattered the two companies of horsemen in\nopposite directions.\n\nIt was toward the westward that Baron Henry of Trutz-Drachen rode at the\nhead of his men.\n\nThe early springtide sun shot its rays of misty, yellow light across the\nrolling tops of the forest trees where the little birds were singing in\nthe glory of the May morning. But Baron Henry and his followers thought\nnothing of the beauty of the peaceful day, and heard nothing of the\nmultitudinous sound of the singing birds as, with a confused sound of\ngalloping hoofs, they swept along the highway, leaving behind them a\nslow-curling, low-trailing cloud of dust.\n\nAs the sun rose more full and warm, the misty wreaths began to dissolve,\nuntil at last they parted and rolled asunder like a white curtain and\nthere, before the pursuing horsemen, lay the crest of the mountain\ntoward which they were riding, and up which the road wound steeply.\n\n\"Yonder they are,\" cried a sudden voice behind Baron Henry of\nTrutz-Drachen, and at the cry all looked upward.\n\nFar away upon the mountain-side curled a cloud of dust, from the midst\nof which came the star-like flash of burnished armor gleaming in the\nsun.\n\nBaron Henry said never a word, but his lips curled in a grim smile.\n\nAnd as the mist wreaths parted One-eyed Hans looked behind and down\ninto the leafy valley beneath. \"Yonder they come,\" said he. \"They have\nfollowed sharply to gain so much upon us, even though our horses are\nwearied with all the travelling we have done hither and yon these five\ndays past. How far is it, Lord Baron, from here to Michaelsburg?\"\n\n\"About ten leagues,\" said the Baron, in a gloomy voice.\n\nHans puckered his mouth as though to whistle, but the Baron saw nothing\nof it, for he was gazing straight before him with a set and stony face.\nThose who followed him looked at one another, and the same thought was\nin the mind of each--how long would it be before those who pursued would\nclose the distance between them?\n\nWhen that happened it meant death to one and all.\n\nThey reached the crest of the hill, and down they dashed upon the other\nside; for there the road was smooth and level as it sloped away into the\nvalley, but it was in dead silence that they rode. Now and then those\nwho followed the Baron looked back over their shoulders. They had gained\na mile upon their pursuers when the helmeted heads rose above the crest\nof the mountain, but what was the gain of a mile with a smooth road\nbetween them, and fresh horses to weary ones?\n\nOn they rode and on they rode. The sun rose higher and higher, and\nhotter and hotter. There was no time to rest and water their panting\nhorses. Only once, when they crossed a shallow stretch of water, the\npoor animals bent their heads and caught a few gulps from the cool\nstream, and the One-eyed Hans washed a part of the soot from his hands\nand face. On and on they rode; never once did the Baron Conrad move his\nhead or alter that steadfast look as, gazing straight before him, he\nrode steadily forward along the endless stretch of road, with poor\nlittle Otto's yellow head and white face resting against his steel-clad\nshoulder--and St. Michaelsburg still eight leagues away.\n\nA little rise of ground lay before them, and as they climbed it, all,\nexcepting the baron, turned their heads as with one accord and looked\nbehind them. Then more than one heart failed, for through the leaves\nof the trees below, they caught the glint of armor of those who\nfollowed--not more than a mile away. The next moment they swept over the\ncrest, and there, below them, lay the broad shining river, and nearer a\ntributary stream spanned by a rude, narrow, three-arched, stone bridge\nwhere the road crossed the deep, slow-moving water.\n\nDown the slope plodded the weary horses, and so to the bridge-head.\n\n\"Halt,\" cried the baron suddenly, and drew rein.\n\nThe others stood bewildered. What did he mean to do? He turned to Hans\nand his blue eyes shone like steel.\n\n\"Hans,\" said he, in his deep voice, \"thou hast served me long and truly;\nwilt thou for this one last time do my bidding?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said Hans, briefly.\n\n\"Swear it,\" said the Baron.\n\n\"I swear it,\" said Hans, and he drew the sign of the cross upon his\nheart.\n\n\"That is good,\" said the Baron, grimly. \"Then take thou this child,\nand with the others ride with all the speed that thou canst to St.\nMichaelsburg. Give the child into the charge of the Abbot Otto. Tell\nhim how that I have sworn fealty to the Emperor, and what I have gained\nthereby--my castle burnt, my people slain, and this poor, simple child,\nmy only son, mutilated by my enemy.\n\n\"And thou, my Lord Baron?\" said Hans.\n\n\"I will stay here,\" said the Baron, quietly, \"and keep back those who\nfollow as long as God will give me grace so to do.\"\n\nA murmur of remonstrance rose among the faithful few who were with\nhim, two of whom were near of kin. But Conrad of Drachenhausen turned\nfiercely upon them.\n\n\"How now,\" said he, \"have I fallen so low in my troubles that even ye\ndare to raise your voices against me? By the good Heaven, I will begin\nmy work here by slaying the first man who dares to raise word against\nmy bidding.\" Then he turned from them. \"Here, Hans,\" said he, \"take the\nboy; and remember, knave, what thou hast sworn.\"\n\nHe pressed Otto close to his breast in one last embrace. \"My little\nchild,\" he murmured, \"try not to hate thy father when thou thinkest of\nhim hereafter, even though he be hard and bloody as thou knowest.\"\n\nBut with his suffering and weakness, little Otto knew nothing of what\nwas passing; it was only as in a faint flickering dream that he lived in\nwhat was done around him.\n\n\"Farewell, Otto,\" said the Baron, but Otto's lips only moved faintly in\nanswer. His father kissed him upon either cheek. \"Come, Hans,\" said\nhe, hastily, \"take him hence;\" and he loosed Otto's arms from about his\nneck.\n\nHans took Otto upon the saddle in front of him.\n\n\"Oh! my dear Lord Baron,\" said he, and then stopped with a gulp, and\nturned his grotesquely twitching face aside.\n\n\"Go,\" said the Baron, harshly, \"there is no time to lose in woman's\ntears.\"\n\n\"Farewell, Conrad! farewell, Conrad!\" said his two kinsmen, and coming\nforward they kissed him upon the cheek then they turned and rode away\nafter Hans, and Baron Conrad was left alone to face his mortal foe.\n\n\n\n\nXIII. How Baron Conrad Held the Bridge.\n\nAs the last of his followers swept around the curving road and was lost\nto sight, Baron Conrad gave himself a shake, as though to drive away the\nthoughts that lay upon him. Then he rode slowly forward to the middle of\nthe bridge, where he wheeled his horse so as to face his coming enemies.\nHe lowered the vizor of his helmet and bolted it to its place, and then\nsaw that sword and dagger were loose in the scabbard and easy to draw\nwhen the need for drawing should arise.\n\n\nDown the steep path from the hill above swept the pursuing horsemen.\nDown the steep path to the bridge-head and there drew rein; for in the\nmiddle of the narrow way sat the motionless, steel-clad figure upon the\ngreat war-horse, with wide, red, panting nostrils, and body streaked\nwith sweat and flecked with patches of foam.\n\nOne side of the roadway of the bridge was guarded by a low stone wall;\nthe other side was naked and open and bare to the deep, slow-moving\nwater beneath. It was a dangerous place to attack a desperate man clad\nin armor of proof.\n\n\"Forward!\" cried Baron Henry, but not a soul stirred in answer, and\nstill the iron-clad figure sat motionless and erect upon the panting\nhorse.\n\n\"How,\" cried the Baron Henry, \"are ye afraid of one man? Then follow\nme!\" and he spurred forward to the bridge-head. But still no one moved\nin answer, and the Lord of Trutz-Drachen reined back his horse again.\nHe wheeled his horse and glared round upon the stolid faces of his\nfollowers, until his eyes seemed fairly to blaze with passion beneath\nthe bars of his vizor.\n\nBaron Conrad gave a roar of laughter. \"How now,\" he cried; \"are ye all\nafraid of one man? Is there none among ye that dares come forward and\nmeet me? I know thee, Baron Henry thou art not afraid to cut off the\nhand of a little child. Hast thou not now the courage to face the\nfather?\"\n\nBaron Henry gnashed his teeth with rage as he glared around upon the\nfaces of his men-at-arms. Suddenly his eye lit upon one of them. \"Ha!\nCarl Spigler,\" he cried, \"thou hast thy cross-bow with thee;--shoot me\ndown yonder dog! Nay,\" he said, \"thou canst do him no harm under his\narmor; shoot the horse upon which he sits.\"\n\nBaron Conrad heard the speech. \"Oh! thou coward villain!\" he cried,\n\"stay; do not shoot the good horse. I will dismount and fight ye upon\nfoot.\" Thereupon, armed as he was, he leaped clashing from his horse and\nturning the animal's head, gave it a slap upon the flank. The good horse\nfirst trotted and then walked to the further end of the bridge, where it\nstopped and began cropping at the grass that grew beside the road.\n\n\"Now then!\" cried Baron Henry, fiercely, \"now then, ye cannot fear him,\nvillains! Down with him! forward!\"\n\nSlowly the troopers spurred their horses forward upon the bridge and\ntoward that one figure that, grasping tightly the great two-handed\nsword, stood there alone guarding the passage.\n\nThen Baron Conrad whirled the great blade above his head, until it\ncaught the sunlight and flashed again. He did not wait for the attack,\nbut when the first of the advancing horsemen had come within a few feet\nof him, he leaped with a shout upon them. The fellow thrust at him with\nhis lance, and the Baron went staggering a few feet back, but instantly\nhe recovered himself and again leaped forward. The great sword flashed\nin the air, whistling; it fell, and the nearest man dropped his lance,\nclattering, and with a loud, inarticulate cry, grasped the mane of his\nhorse with both hands. Again the blade whistled in the air, and this\ntime it was stained with red. Again it fell, and with another shrill cry\nthe man toppled headlong beneath the horse's feet. The next instant they\nwere upon him, each striving to strike at the one figure, to ride him\ndown, or to thrust him down with their lances. There was no room now to\nswing the long blade, but holding the hilt in both hands, Baron Conrad\nthrust with it as though it were a lance, stabbing at horse or man, it\nmattered not. Crowded upon the narrow roadway of the bridge, those who\nattacked had not only to guard themselves against the dreadful strokes\nof that terrible sword, but to keep their wounded horses (rearing and\nmad with fright) from toppling bodily over with them into the water\nbeneath.\n\nPresently the cry was raised, \"Back! back!\" And those nearest the Baron\nbegan reining in their horses. \"Forward!\" roared Baron Henry, from the\nmidst of the crowd; but in spite of his command, and even the blows that\nhe gave, those behind were borne back by those in front, struggling and\nshouting, and the bridge was cleared again excepting for three figures\nthat lay motionless upon the roadway, and that one who, with the\nbrightness of his armor dimmed and stained, leaned panting against the\nwall of the bridge.\n\nThe Baron Henry raged like a madman. Gnashing his teeth together, he\nrode back a little way; then turning and couching his lance, he suddenly\nclapped spurs to his horse, and the next instant came thundering down\nupon his solitary enemy.\n\nBaron Conrad whirled his sword in the air, as he saw the other coming\nlike a thunderbolt upon him; he leaped aside, and the lance passed close\nto him. As it passed he struck, and the iron point flew from the shaft\nof the spear at the blow, and fell clattering upon the stone roadway of\nthe bridge.\n\nBaron Henry drew in his horse until it rested upon its haunches, then\nslowly reined it backward down the bridge, still facing his foe,\nand still holding the wooden stump of the lance in his hand. At the\nbridge-head he flung it from him.\n\n\"Another lance!\" he cried, hoarsely. One was silently reached to him\nand he took it, his hand trembling with rage. Again he rode to a little\ndistance and wheeled his horse; then, driving his steel spurs into its\nquivering side, he came again thundering down upon the other. Once more\nthe terrible sword whirled in the air and fell, but this time the lance\nwas snatched to one side and the blow fell harmlessly. The next instant,\nand with a twitch of the bridle-rein, the horse struck full and fair\nagainst the man.\n\nConrad of Drachenhausen was whirled backward and downward, and the cruel\niron hoofs crashed over his prostrate body, as horse and man passed with\na rush beyond him and to the bridge-head beyond. A shout went up from\nthose who stood watching. The next moment the prostrate figure rose and\nstaggered blindly to the side of the bridge, and stood leaning against\nthe stone wall.\n\nAt the further end of the bridge Baron Henry had wheeled his horse. Once\nagain he couched lance, and again he drove down upon his bruised and\nwounded enemy. This time the lance struck full and fair, and those who\nwatched saw the steel point pierce the iron breast-plate and then snap\nshort, leaving the barbed point within the wound.\n\nBaron Conrad sunk to his knees and the Roderburg, looming upon his horse\nabove him, unsheathed his sword to finish the work he had begun.\n\nThen those who stood looking on saw a wondrous thing happen: the wounded\nman rose suddenly to his feet, and before his enemy could strike he\nleaped, with a great and bitter cry of agony and despair, upon him as he\nsat in the saddle above.\n\nHenry of Trutz-Drachen grasped at his horse's mane, but the attack\nwas so fierce, so sudden, and so unexpected that before he could save\nhimself he was dragged to one side and fell crashing in his armor upon\nthe stone roadway of the bridge.\n\n\"The dragon! the dragon!\" roared Baron Conrad, in a voice of thunder,\nand with the energy of despair he dragged his prostrate foe toward the\nopen side of the bridge.\n\n\"Forward!\" cried the chief of the Trutz-Drachen men, and down they rode\nupon the struggling knights to the rescue of their master in this new\ndanger. But they were too late.\n\nThere was a pause at the edge of the bridge, for Baron Henry had gained\nhis feet and, stunned and bewildered as he was by the suddenness of his\nfall, he was now struggling fiercely, desperately. For a moment they\nstood swaying backward and forward, clasped in one another's arms, the\nblood from the wounded man's breast staining the armor of both. The\nmoment passed and then, with a shower of stones and mortar from beneath\ntheir iron-shod heels, they toppled and fell; there was a thunderous\nsplash in the water below, and as the men-at-arms came hurrying up and\npeered with awe-struck faces over the parapet of the bridge, they saw\nthe whirling eddies sweep down with the current of the stream, a few\nbubbles rise to the surface of the water, and then--nothing; for the\nsmooth river flowed onward as silently as ever.\n\nPresently a loud voice burst through the awed hush that followed. It\ncame from William of Roderburg, Baron Henry's kinsman.\n\n\"Forward!\" he cried. A murmur of voices from the others was all the\nanswer that he received. \"Forward!\" cried the young man again, \"the boy\nand those with him are not so far away but that we might yet catch up\nwith them.\"\n\nThen one of the men spoke up in answer--a man with a seamed,\nweather-beaten face and crisp grizzled hair. \"Nay,\" said he, \"our Lord\nBaron is gone, and this is no quarrel of ours; here be four of us that\nare wounded and three I misdoubt that are dead; why should we follow\nfurther only to suffer more blows for no gain?\" A growl of assent rose\nfrom those that stood around, and William of Roderburg saw that nothing\nmore was to be done by the Trutz-Dragons that day.\n\n\n\n\nXIV. How Otto Saw the Great Emperor.\n\nThrough weakness and sickness and faintness, Otto had lain in a half\nswoon through all that long journey under the hot May sun. It was as in\na dreadful nightmare that he had heard on and on and on that monotonous\nthrobbing of galloping hoofs upon the ground; had felt that last kiss\nthat his father had given him upon his cheek. Then the onward ride\nagain, until all faded away into a dull mist and he knew no more. When\nnext he woke it was with the pungent smell of burned vinegar in his\nnostrils and with the feeling of a cool napkin bathing his brow. He\nopened his eyes and then closed them again, thinking he must have been\nin a dream, for he lay in his old room at the peaceful monastery of the\nWhite Cross on the hill; the good Father Abbot sat near by, gazing upon\nhis face with the old absent student look, Brother John sat in the deep\nwindow seat also gazing at him, and Brother Theodore, the leech of the\nmonastery, sat beside him bathing his head. Beside these old familiar\nfaces were the faces of those who had been with him in that long flight;\nthe One-eyed Hans, old Master Nicholas his kinsman, and the others.\nSo he closed his eyes, thinking that maybe it was all a dream. But the\nsharp throbbing of the poor stump at his wrist soon taught him that he\nwas still awake.\n\n\"Am I then really home in St. Michaelsburg again?\" he murmured, without\nunclosing his eyes.\n\nBrother Theodore began snuffling through his nose; there was a pause.\n\"Yes,\" said the old Abbot at last, and his gentle voice trembled as\nhe spoke; \"yes, my dear little child, thou art back again in thine own\nhome; thou hast not been long out in the great world, but truly thou\nhast had a sharp and bitter trial of it.\"\n\n\"But they will not take me away again, will they?\" said Otto quickly,\nunclosing his blue eyes.\n\n\"Nay,\" said the Abbot, gently; \"not until thou art healed in body and\nart ready and willing to go.\"\n\nThree months and more had passed, and Otto was well again; and now,\nescorted by One-eyed Hans and those faithful few who had clung to the\nBaron Conrad through his last few bitter days, he was riding into the\nquaint old town of Nurnburg; for the Emperor Rudolph was there at that\ntime, waiting for King Ottocar of Bohemia to come thither and answer\nthe imperial summons before the Council, and Otto was travelling to the\ncourt.\n\nAs they rode in through the gates of the town, Otto looked up at the\nhigh-peaked houses with their overhanging gables, the like of which he\nhad never seen before, and he stared with his round blue eyes at seeing\nthem so crowded together along the length of the street. But most of\nall he wondered at the number of people that passed hither and thither,\njostling each other in their hurry, and at the tradesmen's booths\nopening upon the street with the wonderful wares hanging within; armor\nat the smiths, glittering ornaments at the goldsmiths, and rich fabrics\nof silks and satins at the mercers. He had never seen anything so rich\nand grand in all of his life, for little Otto had never been in a town\nbefore.\n\n\"Oh! look,\" he cried, \"at that wonderful lady; see, holy father! sure\nthe Emperor's wife can be no finer than that lady.\"\n\nThe Abbot smiled. \"Nay, Otto,\" said he, \"that is but a burgher's wife or\ndaughter; the ladies at the Emperor's court are far grander than such as\nshe.\"\n\n\"So!\" said Otto, and then fell silent with wonder.\n\nAnd now, at last the great moment had come when little Otto with his own\neyes was to behold the mighty Emperor who ruled over all the powerful\nkingdoms of Germany and Austria, and Italy and Bohemia, and other\nkingdoms and principalities and states. His heart beat so that he could\nhardly speak as, for a moment, the good Abbot who held him by the hand\nstopped outside of the arrased doorway to whisper some last instructions\ninto his ear. Then they entered the apartment.\n\nIt was a long, stone-paved room. The floor was covered with rich rugs\nand the walls were hung with woven tapestry wherein were depicted\nknights and ladies in leafy gardens and kings and warriors at battle.\nA long row of high glazed windows extended along the length of the\napartment, flooding it with the mellow light of the autumn day. At\nthe further end of the room, far away, and standing by a great carved\nchimney place wherein smouldered the remains of a fire, stood a group of\nnobles in gorgeous dress of velvet and silks, and with glittering golden\nchains hung about their necks.\n\nOne figure stood alone in front of the great yawning fireplace. His\nhands were clasped behind him, and his look bent thoughtfully upon the\nfloor. He was dressed only in a simple gray robe without ornament or\nadornment, a plain leathern belt girded his waist, and from it hung a\nsword with a bone hilt encased in a brown leathern scabbard. A noble\nstag-hound lay close behind him, curled up upon the floor, basking in\nthe grateful warmth of the fire.\n\nAs the Father Abbot and Otto drew near he raised his head and looked\nat them. It was a plain, homely face that Otto saw, with a wrinkled\nforehead and a long mouth drawn down at the corners. It was the face of\na good, honest burgher burdened with the cares of a prosperous trade.\n\"Who can he be,\" thought Otto, \"and why does the poor man stand there\namong all the great nobles?\"\n\nBut the Abbot walked straight up to him and kneeled upon the floor,\nand little Otto, full of wonder, did the same. It was the great Emperor\nRudolph.\n\n\"Who have we here,\" said the Emperor, and he bent his brow upon the\nAbbot and the boy.\n\n\"Sire,\" said Abbot Otto, \"we have humbly besought you by petition, in\nthe name of your late vassal, Baron Conrad of Vuelph of Drachenhausen,\nfor justice to this his son, the Baron Otto, whom, sire, as you may see,\nhath been cruelly mutilated at the hands of Baron Henry of Roderburg of\nTrutz-Drachen. He hath moreover been despoiled of his lands, his castle\nburnt, and his household made prisoner.\"\n\nThe Emperor frowned until the shaggy eyebrows nearly hid the keen gray\ntwinkle of the eyes beneath. \"Yes,\" said he, \"I do remember me of\nthat petition, and have given it consideration both in private and in\ncouncil.\" He turned to the group of listening nobles. \"Look,\" said he,\n\"at this little child marred by the inhumanity and the cruelty of those\nrobber villains. By heavens! I will put down their lawless rapine, if I\nhave to give every castle from the north to the south to the flames and\nto the sword.\" Then turning to Otto again, \"Poor little child,\" said he,\n\"thy wrongs shall be righted, and so far as they are able, those cruel\nRoderburgs shall pay thee penny for penny, and grain for grain, for what\nthou hast lost; and until such indemnity hath been paid the family of\nthe man who wrought this deed shall be held as surety.\"\n\nLittle Otto looked up in the kind, rugged face above him. \"Nay, Lord\nEmperor,\" said he, in his quaint, quiet way, \"there are but two in the\nfamily--the mother and the daughter--and I have promised to marry the\nlittle girl when she and I are old enough; so, if you please, I would\nnot have harm happen to her.\"\n\nThe Emperor continued to look down at the kneeling boy, and at last he\ngave a short, dry laugh. \"So be it,\" said he, \"thy plan is not without\nits wisdom. Mayhap it is all for the best that the affair should be\nended thus peacefully. The estates of the Roderburgs shall be held in\ntrust for thee until thou art come of age; otherwise it shall be as thou\nhast proposed, the little maiden shall be taken into ward under our own\ncare. And as to thee--art thou willing that I should take thee under my\nown charge in the room of thy father, who is dead?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said Otto, simply, \"I am willing, for it seems to me that thou\nart a good man.\"\n\nThe nobles who stood near smiled at the boy's speech. As for the\nEmperor, he laughed outright. \"I give thee thanks, my Lord Baron,\" said\nhe; \"there is no one in all my court who has paid me greater courtesy\nthan that.\"\n\nSo comes the end of our tale.\n\nBut perhaps you may like to know what happened afterward, for no one\ncares to leave the thread of a story without tying a knot in it.\n\nEight years had passed, and Otto grew up to manhood in the Emperor's\ncourt, and was with him through war and peace.\n\nBut he himself never drew sword or struck a blow, for the right hand\nthat hung at his side was of pure silver, and the hard, cold fingers\nnever closed. Folks called him \"Otto of the Silver Hand,\" but perhaps\nthere was another reason than that for the name that had been given him,\nfor the pure, simple wisdom that the old monks of the White Cross on\nthe hill had taught him, clung to him through all the honors that the\nEmperor bestowed upon his favorite, and as he grew older his words were\nlistened to and weighed by those who were high in Council, and even by\nthe Emperor himself.\n\nAnd now for the end of all.\n\nOne day Otto stood uncertainly at the doorway of a room in the imperial\ncastle, hesitating before he entered; and yet there was nothing so very\ndreadful within, only one poor girl whose heart fluttered more than his.\nPoor little Pauline, whom he had not seen since that last day in the\nblack cell at Trutz-Drachen.\n\nAt last he pushed aside the hangings and entered the room.\n\nShe was sitting upon a rude bench beside the window, looking at him out\nof her great, dark eyes.\n\nHe stopped short and stood for a moment confused and silent; for he had\nno thought in his mind but of the little girl whom he had last seen, and\nfor a moment he stood confused before the fair maiden with her great,\nbeautiful dark eyes.\n\nShe on her part beheld a tall, slender youth with curling, golden hair,\none hand white and delicate, the other of pure and shining silver.\n\nHe came to her and took her hand and set it to his lips, and all that\nshe could do was to gaze with her great, dark eyes upon the hero of whom\nshe had heard so many talk; the favorite of the Emperor; the wise young\nOtto of the Silver Hand.\n\n\n\n\nAfterword\n\nThe ruins of Drachenhausen were rebuilt, for the walls were as sound as\never, though empty and gaping to the sky; but it was no longer the den\nof a robber baron for beneath the scutcheon over the great gate was\ncarved a new motto of the Vuelphs; a motto which the Emperor Rudolph\nhimself had given:\n\n\"Manus argentea quam manus ferrea melior est.\"\n\n\n\n\n\nEnd of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Otto of the Silver Hand, by Howard Pyle\n\nNow, answer the question based on the story asconcisely as you can, using a single phrase if possible. Do not provide any explanation.\n\nQuestion: What happens shortly after Otto returns to his father's castle?\n\nAnswer:"}
{"question_id": 127, "category": "longbench_qmsum", "reference": ["The revised semantic specification and construction formalism are more stable than the previous versions. In the latter, we find both construction types and meaning types along with formal considerations like verb subcategorization, or the ones a \"directed motion\" construction would dictate."], "prompt": "You are given a meeting transcript and a query containing a question or instruction. Answer the query in one or more sentences.\n\nTranscript:\nGrad B: what things to talk about .\nGrad F: I 'm {disfmarker} What ? Really ? Oh , that 's horrible ! Disincentive !\nGrad A: OK , we 're recording .\nGrad F: Hello ?\nGrad B: Check check {pause} check check .\nGrad D: Uh , yeah .\nGrad F: Hello ? Which am I ?\nProfessor C: Oh right .\nGrad B: Alright . Good .\nGrad F: Channel fi OK . OK . Are you doing something ? OK , then I guess I 'm doing something . So , um , So basically the result of m much thinking since the last time we met , um , but not as much writing , um , is a sheet that I have a lot of , like , thoughts and justification of comments on but I 'll just pass out as is right now . So , um , here . If you could pass this around ? And there 's two things . And so one on one side is {disfmarker} on one side is a sort of the revised sort of updated semantic specification .\nGrad D: Um {disfmarker} The {disfmarker} wait .\nGrad F: And the other side is , um , sort of a revised construction formalism .\nGrad E: This is just one sheet , right ?\nGrad D: Ah ! Just one sheet .\nGrad F: It 's just one sheet .\nGrad D: OK .\nGrad F: It 's just a {disfmarker} Nothing else .\nGrad D: Front , back .\nGrad F: Um , Enough to go around ? OK . And in some ways it 's {disfmarker} it 's {disfmarker} it 's very similar to {disfmarker} There are very few changes in some ways from what we 've , um , uh , b done before but I don't think everyone here has seen all of this . So , uh , I 'm not sure where to begin . Um , as usual the disclaimers are there are {disfmarker} all these things are {disfmarker} it 's only slightly more stable than it was before .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: And , um , after a little bit more discussion and especially like Keith and I {disfmarker} I have more linguistic things to settle in the next few days , um , it 'll probably change again some more .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: Um , maybe I will {disfmarker} let 's start b let 's start on number two actually on the notation , um , because that 's , I 'm thinking , possibly a little more familiar to , um {disfmarker} to people . OK , so the top block is just sort of a {disfmarker} sort of abstract nota it 's sort of like , um , listings of the kinds of things that we can have . And certain things that have , um , changed , have changed back to this . There {disfmarker} there 's been a little bit of , um , going back and forth . But basically obviously all constructions have some kind of name . I forgot to include that you could have a type included in this line .\nProfessor C: What I was gonna {disfmarker} Right .\nGrad F: So something like , um {disfmarker} Well , there 's an example {disfmarker} the textual example at the end has clausal construction . So , um , just to show it doesn't have to be beautiful It could be , you know , simple old text as well . Um , there are a couple of {disfmarker} Uh , these three have various ways of doing certain things . So I 'll just try to go through them . So they could all have a type at the beginning . Um , and then they say the key word construction\nProfessor C: Oh , I see .\nGrad F: and they have some name .\nProfessor C: So {disfmarker} so the current syntax is if it s if there 's a type it 's before construct\nGrad F: Yeah , right .\nProfessor C: OK , that 's fine .\nGrad F: OK , and then it has a block that is constituents . And as usual I guess all the constructions her all the examples here have only , um , tsk {comment} one type of constituent , that is a constructional constituent . I think that 's actually gonna turn out to m be certainly the most common kind . But in general instead of the word \" construct \" , th here you might have \" meaning \" or \" form \" as well . OK ? So if there 's some element that doesn't {disfmarker} that isn't yet constructional in the sense that it maps form and meaning . OK , um , the main change with the constructs which {disfmarker} each of which has , um , the key word \" construct \" and then some name , and then some type specification , is that it 's {disfmarker} it 's pro it 's often {disfmarker} sometimes the case in the first case here that you know what kind of construction it is . So for example whatever I have here is gonna be a form of the word \" throw \" , or it 's gonna be a form of the word , you know , I don't know , \" happy \" , or something like that . Or , you know , some it 'll be a specific word or maybe you 'll have the type . You 'll say \" I need a p uh spatial relation phrase here \" or \" I need a directional specifier here \" . So - uh you could have a j a actual type here . Um , or you could just say in the second case that you only know the meaning type . So a very common example of this is that , you know , in directed motion , the first person to do something should be an agent of some kind , often a human . Right ? So if I {disfmarker} you know , the um , uh , run down the street then I {disfmarker} I {disfmarker} I run down the street , it 's typed , uh , \" I \" , meaning category is what 's there . The {disfmarker} the new kind is this one that is sort of a pair and , um , sort of skipping fonts and whatever . The idea is that sometimes there are , um , general constructions that you know , that you 're going to need . It 's {disfmarker} it 's the equivalent of a noun phrase or a prepositional phrase , or something like that there .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: And usually it has formal um , considerations that will go along with it .\nProfessor C: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: And then uh , you might know something much more specific depending on what construction you 're talking about , about what meaning {disfmarker} what specific meaning you want . So the example again at the bottom , which is directed motion , you might need a nominal expression to take the place of , you know , um , \" the big th \" , you you know , \" the big {disfmarker} the tall dark man \" , you know , \" walked into the room \" .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: But because of the nature of this particular construction you know not just that it 's nominal of some kind but in particular , that it 's some kind of animate nominal , and which will apply just as well to like , you know , a per you know , a simple proper noun or to some complicated expression . Um , so I don't know if the syntax will hold but something that gives you a way to do both constructional and meaning types . So . OK , then I don't think the , {comment} um {disfmarker} at least {disfmarker} Yeah . {comment} None of these examples have anything different for formal constraints ? But you can refer to any of the , um , sort of available elements and scope , right ? which here are the constructs , {comment} to say something about the relation . And I think i if you not if you compare like the top block and the textual block , um , we dropped like the little F subscript . The F subscripts refer to the \" form \" piece of the construct .\nProfessor C: Good .\nGrad F: And I think that , um , in general it 'll be unambiguous . Like if you were giving a formal constraint then you 're referring to the formal pole of that . So {disfmarker} so by saying {disfmarker} if I just said \" Name one \" then that means name one formal and we 're talking about formal struc {comment} Which {disfmarker} which makes sense . Uh , there are certain times when we 'll have an exception to that , in which case you could just indicate \" here I mean the meaningful for some reason \" . Right ? Or {disfmarker} Actually it 's more often that , only to handle this one special case of , you know , \" George and Jerry walk into the room in that order \" .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: So we have a few funny things where something in the meaning might refer to something in the form . But {disfmarker} but s we 're not gonna really worry about that for right now and there are way We can be more specific if we have to later on . OK , and so in terms of the {disfmarker} the relations , you know , as usual they 're before and ends . I should have put an example in of something that isn't an interval relation but in form you might also have a value binding . You know , you could say that , um , you know , \" name - one dot \" , t you know , \" number equals \" , you know , a plural or something like that .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: There are certain things that are attribute - value , similar to the bindings below but I mean they 're just {disfmarker} us usually they 're going to be value {disfmarker} value fillers , right ? OK , and then again semantic constraints here are just {disfmarker} are just bindings . There was talk of changing the name of that . And Johno and I {disfmarker} I {disfmarker} you {disfmarker} you and I can like fight about that if you like ? but about changing it to \" semantic {pause} n effects \" , which I thought was a little bit too order - biased\nGrad B: Well {disfmarker} Th\nGrad F: and \" semantic bindings \" , which I thought might be too restrictive in case we don't have only bindings . And so it was an issue whether constraints {disfmarker} um , there were some linguists who reacted against \" constraints \" , saying , \" oh , if it 's not used for matching , then it shouldn't be called a constraint \" . But I think we want to be uncommitted about whether it 's used for matching or not . Right ? Cuz there are {disfmarker} I think we thought of some situations where it would be useful to use whatever the c bindings are , for actual , you know , sort of like modified constraining purposes .\nProfessor C: Well , you definitely want to de - couple the formalism from the parsing strategy . So that whether or not it 's used for matching or only for verification , I {disfmarker}\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: Yeah , yeah . It 's used shouldn't matter , right ? Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: s For sure . I mean , I don't know what , uh , term we want to use\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: but we don't want to {disfmarker}\nGrad F: Yeah , uh , there was one time when {disfmarker} when Hans explained why \" constraints \" was a misleading word for him .\nProfessor C: Yep .\nGrad F: And I think the reason that he gave was similar to the reason why Johno thought it was a misleading term , which was just an interesting coincidence . Um , but , uh {disfmarker} And so I was like , \" OK , well both of you don't like it ?\nProfessor C: It 's g it 's gone .\nGrad F: Fine , we can change it \" . But I {disfmarker} I {disfmarker} I 'm starting to like it again .\nGrad B: But {disfmarker}\nGrad F: So that that 's why {disfmarker} {comment} That 's why I 'll stick with it .\nGrad A: Well , you know what ?\nGrad F: So {disfmarker}\nGrad A: If you have an \" if - then \" phrase , do you know what the \" then \" phrase is called ?\nProfessor C: Th\nGrad F: What ? Con - uh , a consequent ?\nGrad A: Yeah .\nGrad F: Yeah , but it 's not an \" if - then \" .\nGrad A: No , but {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: I know . Anyway , so the other {disfmarker} the other strategy you guys could consider is when you don't know what word to put , you could put no word ,\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: just meaning . OK ? And the then let {disfmarker}\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: Yeah , that 's true .\nGrad B: So that 's why you put semantic constraints up top and meaning bindings down {disfmarker} down here ?\nGrad F: Oh , oops ! No . That was just a mistake of cut and paste from when I was going with it .\nGrad B: OK .\nProfessor C: OK .\nGrad F: So , I 'm sorry . I didn't mean {disfmarker} that one 's an in unintentional .\nGrad B: So this should be semantic and {disfmarker}\nGrad F: Sometimes I 'm intentionally inconsistent\nGrad B: \nGrad F: cuz I 'm not sure yet . Here , I actually {disfmarker} it was just a mistake .\nGrad B: Th - so this definitely should be \" semantic constraints \" down at the bottom ?\nGrad E: Sure .\nGrad F: Yeah .\nGrad B: OK .\nGrad F: Well , unless I go with \" meaning \" but i I mean , I kind of like \" meaning \" better than \" semantic \"\nGrad B: Or {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: Oh , whatever .\nGrad F: but I think there 's {pause} vestiges of other people 's biases .\nProfessor C: Or {disfmarker} wh That - b\nGrad F: Like {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: Right . Minor {disfmarker} min problem {disfmarker}\nGrad F: Minor point .\nProfessor C: OK .\nGrad E: Extremely .\nGrad F: OK , um , so I think the middle block doesn't really give you any more information , ex than the top block . And the bottom block similarly only just illus you know , all it does is illustrate that you can drop the subscripts and {disfmarker} and that you can drop the , um {disfmarker} uh , that you can give dual types . Oh , one thing I should mention is about \" designates \" . I think I 'm actually inconsistent across these as well . So , um , strike out the M subscript on the middle block .\nProfessor C: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: So basically now , um , this is actually {disfmarker} this little change actually goes along with a big linguistic change , which is that \" designates \" isn't only something for the semantics to worry about now .\nProfessor C: Good .\nGrad F: So we want s \" designates \" to actually know one of the constituents which acts like a head in some respects but is sort of , um , really important for say composition later on . So for instance , if some other construction says , you know , \" are you of type {disfmarker} is this part of type whatever \" , um , the \" designates \" tells you which sort of part is the meaning part . OK , so if you have like \" the big red ball \" , you know , you wanna know if there 's an object or a noun . Well , ball is going to be the designated sort of element of that kind of phrase .\nGrad E: Mmm .\nGrad F: Um , there is a slight complication here which is that when we talk about form it 's useful sometimes to talk about , um {disfmarker} to talk about there also being a designated object and we think that that 'll be the same one , right ? So the ball is the head of the phrase , \" the r the {disfmarker} \" , um , \" big red ball \" , and the entity denoted by the word \" ball \" is sort of the semantic head in some ways of {disfmarker} of this sort of , um , in interesting larger element .\nProfessor C: A a and the {disfmarker} Yeah . And there 's {disfmarker} uh there 's ca some cases where the grammar depends on some form property of the head . And {disfmarker} and this enables you to get that , if I understand you right .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: Right , right .\nGrad E: That 's the idea .\nProfessor C: Yeah yeah .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: And , uh , you might be able to say things like if the head has to go last in a head - final language , you can refer to the head as a p the , you know {disfmarker} the formal head as opposed to the rest of the form having to be at the end of that decision .\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad F: So that 's a useful thing so that you can get some internal structural constraints in .\nProfessor C: OK , so that all looks good . Let me {disfmarker} Oh , w Oh . I don't know . Were you finished ?\nGrad F: Um , there was a list of things that isn't included but you {disfmarker} you can {disfmarker} you can ask a question . That might @ @ it .\nProfessor C: OK . So , i if I understand this the {disfmarker} aside from , uh , construed and all that sort of stuff , the {disfmarker} the differences are mainly that , {vocalsound} we 've gone to the possibility of having form - meaning pairs for a type\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: or actually gone back to ,\nGrad F: Right .\nProfessor C: if we go back far enough {disfmarker}\nGrad F: Well , except for their construction meaning , so it 's not clear that , uh {disfmarker} Well , right now it 's a c uh contr construction type and meaning type . So I don't know what a form type is .\nProfessor C: Oh , I see . Yeah , yeah , yeah . I 'm sorry , you 're right .\nGrad F: Yeah .\nProfessor C: A construction type . Uh , that 's fine . But it , um {disfmarker}\nGrad F: Right . A well , and a previous , um , you know , version of the notation certainly allowed you to single out the meaning bit by it . So you could say \" construct of type whatever designates something \" .\nProfessor C: Yeah .\nGrad F: But that was mostly for reference purposes , just to refer to the meaning pole . I don't think that it was often used to give an extra meaning const type constraint on the meaning , which is really what we want most of the time I think .\nProfessor C: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: Um , I {disfmarker} I don't know if we 'll ever have a case where we actually h if there is a form category constraint , you could imagine having a triple there that says , you know {disfmarker} that 's kind of weird .\nProfessor C: No , no , no , I don't think so . I think that you 'll {disfmarker} you 'll do fine .\nGrad E: I {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: In fact , these are , um , as long as {disfmarker} as Mark isn't around , these are form constraints . So a nominal expression is {disfmarker} uh , the fact that it 's animate , is semantic . The fact that it 's n uh , a nominal expression I would say on most people 's notion of {disfmarker} of f you know , higher form types , this i this is one .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: Right , right .\nProfessor C: And I think that 's just fine .\nGrad E: Yeah , yeah .\nGrad F: Which is fine , yeah .\nProfessor C: Yeah .\nGrad E: It 's {disfmarker} that now , um , I 'm mentioned this , I {disfmarker} I don't know if I ever explained this but the point of , um , I mentioned in the last meeting , {comment} the point of having something called \" nominal expression \" is , um , because it seems like having the verb subcategorize for , you know , like say taking as its object just some expression which , um , designates an object or designates a thing , or whatever , um , that leads to some syntactic problems basically ? So you wanna , you know {disfmarker} you sort of have this problem like \" OK , well , I 'll put the word \" , uh , let 's say , the word \" dog \" , you know . And that has to come right after the verb\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: cuz we know verb meets its object . And then we have a construction that says , oh , you can have \" the \" preceding a noun . And so you 'd have this sort of problem that the verb has to meet the designatum .\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad E: And you could get , you know , \" the kicked dog \" or something like that , meaning \" kicked the dog \" .\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad E: Um , so you kind of have to let this phrase idea in there\nProfessor C: That I {disfmarker} I have no problem with it at all .\nGrad E: but {disfmarker} It - it\nProfessor C: I think it 's fine .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: Yeah . Right , n s you may be {disfmarker} you may not be like everyone else in {disfmarker} in Berkeley ,\nGrad E: Yeah . Yeah .\nGrad F: but that 's OK .\nGrad E: I mean , we {disfmarker} we {disfmarker} we sort of thought we were getting away with , uh {disfmarker} with , a p\nGrad F: Uh , we don't mind either , so {disfmarker}\nGrad E: I mean , this is not reverting to the X - bar theory of {disfmarker} of phrase structure .\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad E: But , uh ,\nGrad F: Right .\nGrad E: I just know that this is {disfmarker} Like , we didn't originally have in mind that , uh {disfmarker} that verbs would subcategorize for a particular sort of form .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: But they do .\nGrad E: Um , but they does .\nGrad F: Well , there 's an alternative to this\nGrad E: At least in English .\nGrad F: which is , um {disfmarker} The question was did we want directed motion ,\nProfessor C: Yeah .\nGrad F: which is an argument structure construction {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: did we want it to worry about , um , anything more than the fact that it , you know , has semantic {disfmarker} You know , it 's sort of frame - based construction . So one option that , you know , Keith had mentioned also was like , well if you have more abstract constructions such as subject , predicate , basically things like grammatical relations ,\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: those could intersect with these in such a way that subject , predicate , or subject , predicate , subject , verb , ob you know , verb object would require that those things that f fill a subject and object are NOM expressions .\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad F: And that would be a little bit cleaner in some way . But you know , for now , I mean ,\nProfessor C: Yeah . But it {disfmarker} y y it 's {disfmarker} yeah , just moving it {disfmarker} moving the c the cons the constraints around .\nGrad F: uh , you know . M moving it to another place , right .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nProfessor C: OK , so that 's {disfmarker}\nGrad F: But there does {disfmarker} basically , the point is there has to be that constraint somewhere , right ?\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad F: So , yeah .\nProfessor C: And so that was the {disfmarker}\nGrad F: Robert 's not happy now ?\nGrad A: No !\nGrad F: Oh , OK .\nProfessor C: OK , and sort of going with that is that the designatum also now is a pair .\nGrad F: Yes .\nProfessor C: Instead of just the meaning .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: And that aside from some terminology , that 's basically it .\nGrad F: Right .\nProfessor C: I just want to b I 'm {disfmarker} I 'm asking .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: Yep .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: Yeah , um , the un sort of the un - addressed questions in this , um , definitely would for instance be semantic constraints we talked about .\nProfessor C: Yeah .\nGrad F: Here are just bindings but , right ? we might want to introduce mental spaces {disfmarker} You know , there 's all these things that we don't {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: The whole {disfmarker} the mental space thing is clearly not here .\nGrad F: Right ? So there 's going to be some extra {disfmarker} you know , definitely other notation we 'll need for that which we skip for now .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: By the way , I do want to get on that as soon as Robert gets back .\nGrad F: Uh Yeah .\nProfessor C: So , uh , the {disfmarker} the mental space thing .\nGrad F: OK .\nProfessor C: Um , obviously , {vocalsound} construal is a b is a b is a big component of that\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: so this probably not worth trying to do anything till he gets back . But sort of as soon as he gets back I think um , we ought to {disfmarker}\nGrad F: Mm - hmm . Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: So what 's the {disfmarker} what 's the time frame ? I forgot again when you 're going away for how long ?\nGrad A: Just , uh , as a {disfmarker} sort of a mental bridge , I 'm not {disfmarker} I 'm skipping fourth of July . So , uh , {vocalsound} right afterwards I 'm back .\nGrad E: OK . OK .\nGrad F: What ? You 're missing like the premier American holiday ? What 's the point of spending a year here ?\nGrad A: Uh , I 've had it often enough .\nGrad F: So , anyway .\nGrad B: Well he w he went to college here .\nGrad F: Oh , yeah , I forgot . Oops . {comment} Sorry .\nProfessor C: Yeah .\nGrad F: OK .\nProfessor C: And furthermore it 's well worth missing .\nGrad F: Not in California .\nGrad E: Yes .\nGrad F: Yeah , that 's true . I like {disfmarker} I {disfmarker} I like spending fourth of July in other countries , {vocalsound} whenever I can .\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad F: Um {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: OK , so that 's great .\nGrad F: Construal , OK , so {disfmarker} Oh , so there was one question that came out . I hate this thing . Sorry . Um , which is , so something like \" past \" which i you know , we think is a very simple {disfmarker} uh , we 've often just stuck it in as a feature ,\nProfessor C: Right . Right .\nGrad F: you know , \" oh , {pause} this event takes place before speech time \" , {comment} OK , is what this means . Um , it 's often thought of as {disfmarker} it is also considered a mental space ,\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad F: you know , by , you know , lots of people around here .\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad F: So there 's this issue of well sometimes there are really exotic explicit space builders that say \" in France , blah - blah - blah \" ,\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: and you have to build up {disfmarker} you ha you would imagine that would require you , you know , to be very specific about the machinery , whereas past is a very conventionalized one and we sort of know what it means but it {disfmarker} we doesn't {disfmarker} don't necessarily want to , you know , unload all the notation every time we see that it 's past tense .\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad F: So , you know , we could think of our {disfmarker} uh , just like X - schema \" walk \" refers to this complicated structure , past refers to , you know , a certain configuration of this thing with respect to it .\nProfessor C: I think that 's exactly right .\nGrad F: So {disfmarker} so we 're kind of like having our cake and eating it {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: Yeah .\nGrad F: you know , having it both ways , right ?\nProfessor C: Yeah . {pause} No , I think {disfmarker} I think that i we 'll have to see how it works out when we do the details\nGrad F: So , i i Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: but my intuition would be that that 's right .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm . Yeah , OK .\nGrad A: Do you want to do the same for space ?\nGrad F: Wha - sorry ?\nGrad A: Space ?\nGrad F: Space ?\nGrad A: Here ? Now ?\nGrad F: Oh , oh , oh , oh , instead of just time ?\nGrad A: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: Yeah , yeah , yeah . Same thing . So there are very conventionalized like deictic ones , right ? And then I think for other spaces that you introduce , you could just attach y whatever {disfmarker}\nGrad A: Hmm .\nGrad F: You could build up an appropriately {disfmarker} uh , appropriate structure according to the l the sentence .\nProfessor C: Yeah .\nGrad A: Hmm , well this {disfmarker} this basically would involve everything you can imagine to fit under your C dot something {disfmarker}\nGrad E: N\nGrad A: you know , where {disfmarker} where it 's contextually dependent ,\nGrad F: Yeah . Right .\nGrad A: \" what is now , what was past ,\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad A: what is in the future , where is this , what is here , what is there , what is {disfmarker} \"\nGrad F: Mm - hmm . Yeah . So time and space . Um , we 'll {disfmarker} we 'll get that on the other side a little , like very minimally . There 's a sort of there 's a slot for setting time and setting place .\nProfessor C: Good .\nGrad F: And you know , you could imagine for both of those are absolute things you could say about the time and place , and then there are many in more interestingly , linguistically anyway , {comment} there are relative things that , you know , you relate the event in time and space to where you are now . If there 's something a lot more complicated like , or so {disfmarker} hypothetical or whatever , then you have to do your job ,\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: like or somebody 's job anyway .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: I 'm gonna point to {disfmarker} at random .\nGrad E: Yeah . I mean , I 'm {disfmarker} I 'm s curious about how much of the mental {disfmarker} I mean , I 'm not sure that the formalism , sort of the grammatical side of things , {comment} is gonna have that much going on in terms of the mental space stuff . You know , um , basically all of these so - called space builders that are in the sentence are going to sort of {disfmarker} I think of it as , sort of giving you the coordinates of , you know {disfmarker} assuming that at any point in discourse there 's the possibility that we could be sort of talking about a bunch of different world scenarios , whatever , and the speaker 's supposed to be keeping track of those . The , um {disfmarker} the construction that you actually get is just gonna sort of give you a cue as to which one of those that you 've already got going , um , you 're supposed to add structure to .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: So \" in France , uh , Watergate wouldn't have hurt Nixon \" or something like that . Um , well , you say , \" alright , I 'm supposed to add some structure to my model of this hypothetical past France universe \" or something like that . The information in the sentence tells you that much but it doesn't tell you like exactly what it {disfmarker} what the point of doing so is . So for example , depending on the linguistic con uh , context it could be {disfmarker} like the question is for example , what does \" Watergate \" refer to there ? Does it , you know {disfmarker} does it refer to , um {disfmarker} if you just hear that sentence cold , the assumption is that when you say \" Watergate \" you 're referring to \" a Watergate - like scandal as we might imagine it happening in France \" . But in a different context , \" oh , you know , if Nixon had apologized right away it wouldn't {disfmarker} you know , Watergate wouldn't have hurt him so badly in the US and in France it wouldn't have hurt him at all \" . Now we 're s now that \" Watergate \" {disfmarker} we 're now talking about the real one ,\nGrad F: They 're real , right .\nGrad E: and the \" would \" sort of {disfmarker} it 's a sort of different dimension of hypothe - theticality , right ? We 're not saying {disfmarker} What 's hypothetical about this world .\nGrad F: I see {disfmarker} right .\nGrad E: In the first case , hypothetically we 're imagining that Watergate happened in France .\nGrad F: Hmm .\nGrad E: In the second case we 're imagining hypothetically that Nixon had apologized right away\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: or something . Right ?\nGrad F: Right .\nGrad E: So a lot of this isn't happening at the grammatical level .\nProfessor C: Correct .\nGrad E: Uh , um , and so {disfmarker}\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: I don't know where that sits then ,\nGrad A: Hmm .\nGrad E: sort of the idea of sorting out what the person meant .\nGrad F: It seems like , um , the grammatical things such as the auxiliaries that you know introduce these conditionals , whatever , give you sort of the {disfmarker} the most basi\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: th those we {disfmarker} I think we can figure out what the possibilities are , right ?\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: There are sort of a relatively limited number . And then how they interact with some extra thing like \" in France \" or \" if such - and - such \" , that 's like there are certain ways that they c they can {disfmarker}\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: You know , one is a more specific version of the general pattern that the grammat grammar gives you .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: I think . But , you know , whatever ,\nProfessor C: Yeah , in the short run all we need is a enough mechanism on the form side to get things going .\nGrad F: we {disfmarker} we 're {disfmarker}\nGrad E: Mm - hmm . Yeah .\nProfessor C: Uh , I {disfmarker} uh , you {disfmarker} you {disfmarker}\nGrad E: But the whole point of {disfmarker} the whole point of what Fauconnier and Turner have to say about , uh , mental spaces , and blending , and all that stuff is that you don't really get that much out of the sentence . You know , there 's not that much information contained in the sentence . It just says , \" Here . Add this structure to this space . \" and exactly what that means for the overall ongoing interpretation is quite open . An individual sentence could mean a hundred different things depending on , quote , \" what the space configuration is at the time of utterance \" .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm . Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: And so somebody 's gonna have to be doing a whole lot of work but not me , I think .\nProfessor C: Well {disfmarker} I think that 's right . Oh , I {disfmarker} yeah , I , uh , uh {disfmarker} I think that 's {disfmarker} Not k I th I don't think it 's completely right . I mean , in fact a sentence examples you gave in f did constrain the meaning b the form did constrain the meaning ,\nGrad E: Yeah .\nProfessor C: and so , um , it isn't , uh {disfmarker}\nGrad E: Sure , but like what {disfmarker} what was the point of saying that sentence about Nixon and France ? That is not {disfmarker} there is nothing about that in the {disfmarker} in the sentence really .\nGrad F: That 's OK . We usually don't know the point of the sentence at all .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: But we know what it 's trying to say .\nProfessor C: Yeah .\nGrad E: Y yeah .\nGrad F: We {disfmarker} we know that it 's {disfmarker} what predication it 's setting up .\nProfessor C: But {disfmarker} but {disfmarker} bottom line , I agree with you ,\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: That 's all .\nProfessor C: that {disfmarker} that {disfmarker} that we 're not expecting much out of the , uh f\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: Purely linguistic cues , right ?\nProfessor C: uh , the purely form cues , yeah .\nGrad F: So .\nProfessor C: And , um {disfmarker} I mean , you 're {disfmarker} you 're the linguist\nGrad F: Mmm .\nProfessor C: but , uh , it seems to me that th these {disfmarker} we {disfmarker} we {disfmarker} you know , we 've talked about maybe a half a dozen linguistics theses in the last few minutes or something .\nGrad E: Yeah , yeah .\nProfessor C: Yeah , I mean {disfmarker}\nGrad E: Yeah . Oh , yeah .\nProfessor C: uh , I {disfmarker} I mean , that {disfmarker} that 's my feeling that {disfmarker} that these are really hard uh , problems that decide exactly what {disfmarker} what 's going on .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm . Yeah . Yeah .\nProfessor C: OK .\nGrad F: OK , so , um , one other thing I just want to point out is there 's a lot of confusion about the terms like \" profile , designate , focus \" , et cetera , et cetera .\nProfessor C: Uh , right , right , right .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: Um , for now I 'm gonna say like \" profile \" 's often used {disfmarker} like two uses that come to mind immediately . One is in the traditional like semantic highlight of one element with respect to everything else . So \" hypotenuse \" , you profiled this guy against the background of the {pause} right t right triangle .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: OK . And the second use , um , is in FrameNet. It 's slightly different . Oh , I was asking Hans about this . They use it to really mean , um , this {disfmarker} in a frame th this is {disfmarker} the profiles on the {disfmarker} these are the ones that are required . So they have to be there or expressed in some way . Which {disfmarker} which {disfmarker} I 'm not saying one and two are mutually exclusive but they 're {disfmarker} they 're different meanings .\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: So the closest thing {disfmarker} so I was thinking about how it relates to this notation . For us , um {disfmarker} OK , so how is it {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: Does that {disfmarker} Is that really what they mean in {disfmarker} in {disfmarker}\nGrad F: so \" designate \" {disfmarker} FrameNet ?\nProfessor C:  I didn't know that .\nGrad F: FrameNet ? Yeah , yeah . I {disfmarker} I mean , I {disfmarker} I was a little bit surprised about it too .\nProfessor C: Yeah .\nGrad F: I knew that {disfmarker} I thought that that would be something like {disfmarker} there 's another term that I 've heard for that thing\nProfessor C: Right , OK .\nGrad F: but they {disfmarker} I mean {disfmarker} uh , well , at least Hans says they use it that way . And {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: Well , I 'll check .\nGrad F: and may maybe he 's wrong . Anyway , so I think the {disfmarker} the \" designate \" that we have in terms of meaning is really the \" highlight this thing with respect to everything else \" . OK ?\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad F: So this is what {disfmarker} what it means . But the second one seems to be useful but we might not need a notation for it ? We don't have a notation for it but we might want one . So for example we 've talked about if you 're talking about the lexical item \" walk \" , you know it 's an action . Well , it also has this idea {disfmarker} it carries along with it the idea of an actor or somebody 's gonna do the walking . Or if you talk about an adjective \" red \" , it carries along the idea of the thing that has the property of having color red . So we used to use the notation \" with \" for this\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad F: and I think that 's closest to their second one . So I d don't yet know , I have no commitment , as to whether we need it . It might be {disfmarker} it 's the kind of thing that w a parser might want to think about whether we require {disfmarker} you know , these things are like it 's semantically part of it {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: N no , no . Well , uh , th critically they 're not required syntactically . Often they 're pres presu presupposed and all that sort of stuff .\nGrad F: Right . Right , right . Yeah , um , definitely . So , um , \" in \" was a good example . If you walk \" in \" , like well , in what ?\nProfessor C: Right , there 's {disfmarker}\nGrad F: You know , like you have to have the {disfmarker} {comment} So {disfmarker} so it 's only semantically is it {disfmarker} it is still required , say , by simulation time though\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad F: to have something . So it 's that {disfmarker} I meant the idea of like that {disfmarker} the semantic value is filled in by sim simulation . I don't know if that 's something we need to spa to {disfmarker} to like say ever as part of the requirement ? {disfmarker} or the construction ? or not . We 'll {disfmarker} we 'll again defer .\nProfessor C: Or {disfmarker} I mean , or {disfmarker} or , uh so the {disfmarker}\nGrad F: Have it construed ,\nProfessor C: Yeah , yeah .\nGrad F: is that the idea ? Just point at Robert . Whenever I 'm confused just point to him .\nProfessor C: Right . It 's {disfmarker} it 's his thesis , right ?\nGrad F: You tell me .\nProfessor C: Anyway ,\nGrad F: OK .\nProfessor C: right , yeah , w this is gonna be a b you 're right , this is a bit of in a mess and we still have emphasis as well , or stress , or whatever .\nGrad F: OK , well we 'll get , uh uh , I {disfmarker} we have thoughts about those as well .\nProfessor C: Yeah . Great .\nGrad F: Um , the I w I would just s some of this is just like my {disfmarker} you know , by fiat . I 'm going to say , this is how we use these terms . I don't - you know , there 's lots of different ways in the world that people use it .\nProfessor C: I {disfmarker} that 's fine .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: I think that , um , the other terms that are related are like focus and stress .\nProfessor C: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: So , s I think that the way I {disfmarker} we would like to think , uh , I think is focus is something that comes up in , I mean , lots of {disfmarker} basically this is the information structure .\nProfessor C: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: OK , it 's like {disfmarker} uh , it 's not {disfmarker} it might be that there 's a syntactic , uh , device that you use to indicate focus or that there are things like , you know , I think Keith was telling me , {comment} things toward the end of the sentence , post - verbal , tend to be the focused {disfmarker} focused element ,\nGrad E: Mmm .\nGrad F: the new information . You know , if I {disfmarker} \" I walked into the room \" , you {disfmarker} tend to think that , whatever , \" into the room \" is sort of like the more focused kind of thing .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm . Yeah .\nGrad F: And when you , uh , uh , you have stress on something that might be , you know , a cue that the stressed element , or for instance , the negated element is kind of related to information structure . So that 's like the new {disfmarker} the sort of like import or whatever of {disfmarker} of this thing . Uh , so {disfmarker} so I think that 's kind of nice to keep \" focus \" being an information structure term . \" Stress \" {disfmarker} I th and then there are different kinds of focus that you can bring to it . So , um , like \" stress \" , th stress is kind of a pun on {disfmarker} you might have like {disfmarker} whatever , like , um , accent kind of stress .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: And that 's just a {disfmarker} uh , w we 'll want to distinguish stress as a form device . You know , like , oh , high volume or whatever .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: Um , t uh , and distinguish that from it 's effect which is , \" Oh , the kind of focus we have is we 're emphasizing this value often as opposed to other values \" , right ? So focus carries along a scope . Like if you 're gonna focus on this thing and you wanna know {disfmarker} it sort of evokes all the other possibilities that it wasn't .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: Um , so my classic {disfmarker} my now - classic example of saying , \" Oh , he did go to the meeting ? \" ,\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: that was my way of saying {disfmarker} as opposed to , you know , \" Oh , he didn't g \" or \" There was a meeting ? \"\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: I think that was the example that was caught on by the linguists immediately .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: And so , um , the {disfmarker} like if you said he {disfmarker} you know , there 's all these different things that if you put stress on a different part of it then you 're , c focusing , whatever , on , uh {disfmarker}\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: \" he walked to the meeting \" as opposed to \" he ran \" , or \" he did walk to the meeting \" as opposed to \" he didn't walk \" . You know ,\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: so we need to have a notation for that which , um , I think that 's still in progress . So , sort of I 'm still working it out . But it did {disfmarker} one {disfmarker} one implication it does f have for the other side , which we 'll get to in a minute is that I couldn't think of a good way to say \" here are the possible things that you could focus on \" , cuz it seems like any entity in any sentence , you know , or any meaning component of anyth you know {disfmarker} all the possible meanings you could have , any of them could be the subject of focus .\nProfessor C: Mmm .\nGrad F: But I think one {disfmarker} the one thing you can schematize is the kind of focus , right ? So for instance , you could say it 's the {disfmarker} the tense on this as opposed to , um , the {disfmarker} the action . OK . Or it 's {disfmarker} uh , it 's an identity thing or a contrast with other things , or stress this value as opposed to other things . So , um , it 's {disfmarker} it is kind of like a profile {disfmarker} profile - background thing but I {disfmarker} I can't think of like the limited set of possible meanings that you would {disfmarker} that you would focu\nGrad E: Light up with focus , yeah .\nGrad F: light {disfmarker} highlight as opposed to other ones . So it has some certain complications for the , uh , uh {disfmarker} later on . Li - I mean , uh , the best thing I can come up with is that information has a list of focused elements . For instance , you {disfmarker} Oh , one other type that I forgot to mention is like query elements and that 's probably relevant for the like \" where is \" , you know , \" the castle \" kind of thing ?\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: Because you might want to say that , um , location or cert certain WH words bring {disfmarker} you know , sort of automatically focus in a , you know , \" I don't know the identity of this thing \" kind of way on certain elements . So . OK . Anyway . So that 's onl there are {disfmarker} there are many more things that are uncl that are sort of like a little bit unstable about the notation but it 's most {disfmarker} I think it 's {disfmarker} this is , you know , the current {disfmarker} current form . Other things we didn't {vocalsound} totally deal with , um ,\nGrad E: Oh , there 's a bunch .\nGrad F: well , we 've had a lot of other stuff that Keith and I have them working on in terms of like how you deal with like an adjective .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: You know , a {disfmarker} a nominal expression .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: And , um , I mean , we should have put an example of this and we could do that later .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: But I think the not inherently like the general principles still work though , that , um , we can have constructions that have sort of constituent structure in that there is like , you know , for instance , one {disfmarker} Uh , you know , they {disfmarker} they have constituents , right ? So you can like nest things when you need to , but they can also overlap in a sort of flatter way . So if you don't have like a lot of grammar experience , then like this {disfmarker} this might , you know , be a little o opaque . But , you know , we have the {pause} properties of dependency grammars and some properties of constituents {disfmarker} constituent - based grammar . So that 's {disfmarker} I think that 's sort of the main thing we wanted to aim for\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: and so far it 's worked out OK .\nProfessor C: Good .\nGrad F: So . OK .\nGrad A: I can say two things about the f\nGrad F: Yes .\nGrad A: Maybe you want to forget stress . This {disfmarker} my f\nGrad F: As a word ?\nGrad A: No , as {disfmarker} as {disfmarker} Just don't {disfmarker} don't think about it .\nGrad F: As a {disfmarker} What 's that ?\nGrad A: If {disfmarker}\nGrad F: Sorry .\nGrad A: canonically speaking you can {disfmarker} if you look at a {disfmarker} a curve over sentence , you can find out where a certain stress is and say , \" hey , that 's my focus exponent . \"\nGrad E: Right .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad A: It doesn't tell you anything what the focus is . If it 's just that thing ,\nGrad F: Mm - hmm . Or the constituent that it falls in .\nGrad A: a little bit more or the whole phrase .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad A: Um {disfmarker}\nGrad F: You mean t forget about stress , the form cue ?\nGrad A: The form bit\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad A: because , uh , as a form cue , um , not even trained experts can always {disfmarker} well , they can tell you where the focus exponent is sometimes .\nGrad F: OK .\nGrad A: And that 's also mostly true for read speech . In {disfmarker} in real speech , um , people may put stress . It 's so d context dependent on what was there before , phrase ba breaks , um , restarts .\nGrad F: Yeah . Mm - hmm .\nGrad A: It 's just , um {disfmarker} it 's absurd . It 's complicated .\nGrad F: OK ,\nGrad A: And all {disfmarker}\nGrad E: Yeah , I mean , I {disfmarker} I 'm sort of inclined to say let 's worry about specifying the information structure focus of the sentence\nGrad F: I believe you , yeah .\nGrad E: and then ,\nGrad F: Mm - hmm . Ways that you can get it come from th\nGrad E: hhh , {comment} the phonology component can handle actually assigning an intonation contour to that .\nGrad F: right .\nGrad E: You know , I mean , later on we 'll worry about exactly how {disfmarker}\nGrad A: Or {disfmarker} or map from the contour to {disfmarker} to what the focus exponent is .\nGrad E: y Yeah . Exactly .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: But figure out how the {disfmarker}\nGrad A: But , uh , if you don't know what you 're {disfmarker} what you 're focus is then you 're {disfmarker} you 're hopeless - uh - ly lost anyways ,\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: Right . That 's fine , yeah . Mm - hmm .\nGrad A: and the only way of figuring out what that is , {vocalsound} is , um , by sort of generating all the possible alternatives to each focused element , decide which one in that context makes sense and which one doesn't .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad A: And then you 're left with a couple three . So , you know , again , that 's something that h humans can do ,\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad A: um , but far outside the scope of {disfmarker} of any {disfmarker} anything . So . You know . It 's {disfmarker}\nGrad F: OK . Well , uh , yeah , I wouldn't have assumed that it 's an easy problem in {disfmarker} in absence of all the oth\nGrad A: u u\nGrad F: you need all the other information I guess .\nGrad A: But it 's {disfmarker} it 's {disfmarker} what it {disfmarker} uh , it 's pretty easy to put it in the formalism , though . I mean , because\nGrad F: Yeah .\nGrad A: you can just say whatever stuff , \" i is the container being focused or the {disfmarker} the entire whatever , both , and so forth . \"\nGrad F: Mm - hmm , mm - hmm .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: Yeah . Exactly . So the sort of effect of it is something we want to be able to capture .\nProfessor C: Yeah , so b b but I think the poi I 'm not sure I understand but here 's what I th think is going on . That if we do the constructions right when a particular construction matches , it {disfmarker} the fact that it matches , does in fact specify the focus .\nGrad F: W uh , I 'm not sure about that .\nProfessor C: OK .\nGrad F: Or it might limit {disfmarker} it cert certainly constrains the possibilities of focus .\nProfessor C: Uh {disfmarker} k uh , at at the very least it constrai\nGrad F: I think that 's {disfmarker} that 's , th that 's certainly true . And depending on the construction it may or may not f specify the focus , right ?\nProfessor C: Oh , uh , for sure , yes . There are constrai yeah , it 's not every {disfmarker} but there are constructions , uh , where you t explicitly take into account those considerations\nGrad F: Yeah . Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: that you need to take into account in order to decide which {disfmarker} what is being focused .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad A: Mm - hmm . So we talked about that a little bit this morning . \" John is on the bus , not Nancy . \"\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad A: So that 's {disfmarker} focuses on John .\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad F: Hmm .\nGrad A: \" John is on the bus and not on the train . \"\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad A: \" John is on the bus \" versus \" John is on the train . \"\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad F: Right .\nGrad A: And \" John is on the bus \" versus \" was \" , and e\nGrad F: Is on . \" John is on the bus \" . Yeah . Yeah .\nGrad A: \" it 's the bu \" so e\nProfessor C: Right . Yeah , all {disfmarker} all of those .\nGrad A: All of these\nProfessor C: Yeah .\nGrad F: Right .\nGrad A: and will we have {disfmarker} u is it all the same constructions ? Just with a different foc focus constituent ?\nGrad F: Yeah , I would say that argument structure in terms of like the main like sort of ,\nGrad A: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: I don't know {disfmarker} the fact that you can get it without any stress and you have some {disfmarker} whatever is predicated anyway should be the same set of constructions . So that 's why I was talking about overlapping constructions . So , then you have a separate thing that picks out , you know , stress on something relative to everything else .\nProfessor C: Yeah . So , the question is actually {disfmarker}\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: oh , I 'm sorry ,\nGrad F: And it would {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: go ahead ,\nGrad F: yeah ,\nProfessor C: finish .\nGrad F: and it w and that would have to {disfmarker} uh it might be ambiguous as , uh , whether it picks up that element , or the phrase , or something like that . But it 's still is limited possibility .\nGrad A: Hmm .\nGrad F: So that should , you know , interact with {disfmarker} it should overlap with whatever other construction is there .\nGrad A: Yeah .\nProfessor C: S s the question is , do we have a way on the other page , uh , when we get to the s semantic side , of saying what the stressed element was , or stressed phrase , or something .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm . Well , so that 's why I was saying how {disfmarker} since I couldn't think of an easy like limited way of doing it , um , all I can say is that information structure has a focused slot\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad F: and I think that should be able to refer to {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: So that 's down at the bottom here when we get over there . OK .\nGrad F: Yeah , and , infer {disfmarker} and I don't have {disfmarker} I don't have a great way or great examples\nProfessor C: I 'll - I 'll wait . OK .\nGrad F: but I think that {disfmarker} something like that is probably gonna be , uh , more {disfmarker} more what we have to do .\nGrad A: Hmm .\nProfessor C: OK .\nGrad F: But , um ,\nGrad A: So\nGrad F: OK , that was one comment . And you had another one ?\nGrad A: Yeah , well the {disfmarker} once you know what the focus is the {disfmarker} everything else is background . How about \" topic - comment \" that 's the other side of information .\nGrad F: How about what ?\nGrad A: Topic - comment .\nGrad F: Yeah , so that was the other thing . And so I didn't realize it before . It 's like , \" oh ! \" It was an epiphany that it {disfmarker} you know , topic and focus are a contrast set . So topic is {disfmarker} Topic - focused seems to me like , um , background profile , OK , or a landmark trajector , or some something like that . There 's {disfmarker} there 's definitely , um , that kind of thing going on .\nGrad A: Mmm .\nGrad F: Now I don't know whether {disfmarker} I n I don't have as many great examples of like topic - indicating constructions on like focus , right ? Um , topic {disfmarker} it seems kind of {disfmarker} you know , I think that might be an ongoing kind of thing .\nGrad A: Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: Japanese has this though . You know .\nGrad F: Topic marker ?\nGrad A: Yeah .\nGrad E: Yeah , that 's what \" wa \" is , uh , just to mark which thing is the topic .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: It doesn't always have to be the subject .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm . Right . So again , information structure has a topic slot . And , you know , I stuck it in thinking that we might use it .\nGrad A: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: Um , I think I stuck it in .\nProfessor C: Yep , it 's there .\nGrad F: Um , and one thing that I didn't do consistently , um , is {disfmarker} when we get there , is like indicate what kind of thing fits into every role . I think I have an idea of what it should be but th you know , so far we 've been getting away with like either a type constraint or , um , you know , whatever . I forg it 'll be a frame . You know , it 'll be {disfmarker} it 'll be another predication or it 'll be , um , I don't know , some value from {disfmarker} from some something , some variable and scope or something like that , or a slot chain based on a variable and scope . OK , so well that 's {disfmarker} should we flip over to the other side officially then ?\nGrad A: Mm - hmm , hmm .\nGrad E: OK , side one .\nGrad F: I keep , uh , like , pointing forward to it . Yeah . Now we 'll go back to s OK , so this doesn't include something which mi mi may have some effect on {disfmarker} on it , which is , um , the discourse situation context record , right ? So I didn't {disfmarker} I {disfmarker} I meant just like draw a line and like , you know , you also have , uh , some tracking of what was going on .\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad F: And sort of {disfmarker} this is a big scale comment before I , you know , look into the details of this . But for instance you could imagine instead of having {disfmarker} I {disfmarker} I changed the name of {disfmarker} um it used to be \" entities \" . So you see it 's \" scenario \" , \" referent \" and \" discourse segment \" . And \" scenario \" is essentially what kind of {disfmarker} what 's the basic predication , what event happened . And actually it 's just a list of various slots from which you would draw {disfmarker} draw in order to paint your picture , a bunch of frames , bi and bindings , right ? Um , and obviously there are other ones that are not included here , general cultural frames and general like , uh , other action f\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: you know , specific X - schema frames . OK , whatever . The middle thing used to be \" entities \" because you could imagine it should be like really a list where here was various information . And this is intended to be grammatically specifiable information about a referent {disfmarker} uh , you know , about some entity that you were going to talk about . So \" Harry walked into the room \" , \" Harry \" and \" room \" , you know , the room {disfmarker} th but they would be represented in this list somehow . And it could also have for instance , it has this category slot . Um , it should be either category or in or instance . Basically , it could be a pointer to ontology . So that everything you know about this could be {disfmarker} could be drawn in . But the important things for grammatical purposes are for {disfmarker} things like number , gender , um {disfmarker} ki the ones I included here are slightly arbitrary but you could imagine that , um , you need to figure out wheth if it 's a group whether , um , some event is happening , linear time , linear spaces , like , you know , are {disfmarker} are they doing something serially or is it like , um , uh I 'm {disfmarker} I 'm not sure . Because this partly came from , uh , Talmy 's schema and I 'm not sure we 'll need all of these actually . But {disfmarker} Um , and then the \" status \" I used was like , again , in some languages , you know , like for instance in child language you might distinguish between different status . So , th the {disfmarker} the big com and {disfmarker} and finally \" discourse segment \" is about {vocalsound} sort of speech - act - y information structure - y , like utterance - specific kinds of things . So the comment I was going to make about , um , changing entity {disfmarker} the entity 's block to reference is that {vocalsound} you can imagine your discourse like situation context , you have a set of entities that you 're sort of referring to . And you might {disfmarker} that might be sort of a general , I don't know , database of all the things in this discourse that you could refer to . And I changed to \" reference \" cuz I would say , for a particular utterance you have particular referring expressions in it . And those are the ones that you get information about that you stick in here . For instance , I know it 's going to be plural . I know it 's gonna be feminine or something like that . And {disfmarker} and these could actually just point to , you know , the {disfmarker} the ID in my other list of enti active entities , right ? So , um , uh , th there 's {disfmarker} there 's all this stuff about discourse status . We 've talked about . I almost listed \" discourse status \" as a slot where you could say it 's active . You know , there 's this , um , hierarchy {disfmarker} uh there 's a schematization of , you know , things can be active or they can be , um , accessible , inaccessible .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: It was the one that , you know , Keith , um , emailed to us once , to some of us , not all of us . And the thing is that that {disfmarker} I noticed that that , um , list was sort of discourse dependent . It was like in this particular set , s you know , instance , it has been referred to recently or it hasn't been ,\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: or this is something that 's like in my world knowledge but not active .\nProfessor C: This {disfmarker} Uh {disfmarker} yeah , well there {disfmarker} there seems to be context properties .\nGrad F: So .\nProfessor C: Yeah .\nGrad F: Yeah , they 're contex and for instance , I used to have a location thing there but actually that 's a property of the situation . And it 's again , time , you know {disfmarker} at cert certain points things are located , you know , near or far from you\nProfessor C: Well , uh , uh , this is recursive\nGrad F: and {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: cuz until we do the uh , mental space story , we 're not quite sure {disfmarker} {comment} Th - th\nGrad F: Yeah .\nProfessor C: which is fine . We 'll just {disfmarker} we 'll j\nGrad F: Yeah , yeah . So some of these are , uh {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: we just don't know yet .\nGrad F: Right . So I {disfmarker} so for now I thought , well maybe I 'll just have in this list the things that are relevant to this particular utterance , right ? Everything else here is utterance - specific . Um , and I left the slot , \" predications \" , open because you can have , um , things like \" the guy I know from school \" .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: Or , you know , like your referring expression might be constrained by certain like unbounded na amounts of prep you know , predications that you might make . And it 's unclear whether {disfmarker} I mean , you could just have in your scenario , \" here are some extra few things that are true \" , right ?\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: And then you could just sort of not have this slot here . Right ? You 're {disfmarker} but {disfmarker} but it 's used for identification purposes .\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: So it 's {disfmarker} it 's a little bit different from just saying \" all these things are true from my utterance \" .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: Um .\nGrad E: Right , \" this guy I know from school came for dinner \" does not mean , um , \" there 's a guy , I know him from school , and he came over for dinner \" . That 's not the same effect .\nGrad F: Yeah , it 's a little bit {disfmarker} it 's a little bit different . Right ? So {disfmarker} Or maybe that 's like a restrictive , non - restrictive {disfmarker}\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: you know , it 's like it gets into that kind of thing for {disfmarker} um , but maybe I 'm mixing , you know {disfmarker} this is kind of like the final result after parsing the sentence .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: So you might imagine that the information you pass to , you know {disfmarker} in identifying a particular referent would be , \" oh , some {disfmarker} \" you know , \" it 's a guy and it 's someone I know from school \" .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: So maybe that would , you know , be some intermediate structure that you would pass into the disc to the , whatever , construal engine or whatever , discourse context , to find {disfmarker} you know , either create this reference ,\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: in which case it 'd be created here , and {disfmarker} you know , so {disfmarker} so you could imagine that this might not {disfmarker} So , uh , I 'm uncommitted to a couple of these things .\nGrad A: But {disfmarker} to make it m precise at least in my mind , uh , it 's not precise .\nGrad F: Um .\nGrad A: So \" house \" is gender neuter ? In reality\nGrad F: Um , it could be in {disfmarker}\nGrad A: or in {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: Semantically .\nGrad A: semantically .\nGrad F: semantically , yeah . Yeah .\nGrad A: So {disfmarker}\nGrad F: So it uh , uh , a table . You know , a thing that c doesn't have a gender . So . Uh , it could be that {disfmarker} I mean , maybe you 'd {disfmarker} maybe not all these {disfmarker} I mean , I wou I would say that I tried to keep slots here that were potentially relevant to most {disfmarker} most things .\nGrad A: No , just to make sure that we {disfmarker} everybody that 's {disfmarker} completely agreed that it {disfmarker} it has nothing to do with , uh , form .\nGrad F: Yeah . OK , that is semantic as opposed to {disfmarker} Yeah . Yeah . That 's right . Um .\nGrad A: Then \" predications \" makes sense to {disfmarker} to have it open for something like , uh , accessibility or not .\nGrad F: S so again {disfmarker} Open to various things .\nGrad A: Yeah .\nGrad F: Right . OK , so . Let 's see . So maybe having made that big sca sort of like large scale comment , should I just go through each of these slots {disfmarker} uh , each of these blocks , um , a little bit ?\nGrad E: Sure .\nGrad F: Um , mostly the top one is sort of image schematic . And just a note , which was that , um {disfmarker} s so when we actually ha so for instance , um , some of them seem more inherently static , OK , like a container or sort of support - ish . And others are a little bit seemingly inherently dynamic like \" source , path , goal \" is often thought of that way or \" force \" , or something like that . But in actual fact , I think that they 're intended to be sort of neutral with respect to that . And different X - schemas use them in a way that 's either static or dynamic . So \" path \" , you could just be talking about the path between this and this .\nGrad E: Mmm .\nGrad F: And you know , \" container \" that you can go in and out . All of these things . And so , um , I think this came up when , uh , Ben and I were working with the Spaniards , um , the other day {disfmarker} the \" Spaniettes \" , as we {vocalsound} called them {disfmarker} um , to decide like how you want to split up , like , s image schematic contributions versus , like , X - schematic contributions . How do you link them up . And I think again , um , it 's gonna be something in the X - schema that tells you \" is this static or is this dynamic \" . So we definitely need {disfmarker} that sort of aspectual type gives you some of that . Um , that , you know , is it , uh , a state or is it a change of state , or is it a , um , action of some kind ?\nGrad A: Uh , i i i is there any meaning to when you have sort of parameters behind it and when you don't ?\nGrad F: Uh . Yeah .\nGrad A: Just means {disfmarker}\nGrad F: Oh , oh ! You mean , in the slot ?\nGrad A: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: Um , no , it 's like X - sc it 's {disfmarker} it 's like I was thinking of type constraints but X - schema , well it obviously has to be an X - schema . \" Agent \" , I mean , the {disfmarker} the performer of the X - schema , that s depends on the X - schema . You know , and I {disfmarker} in general it would probably be , you know {disfmarker}\nGrad E: So the difference is basically whether you thought it was obvious what the possible fillers were .\nGrad F: Yeah , basically .\nGrad A: Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: OK .\nGrad F: Um , \" aspectual type \" probably isn't obvious but I should have {disfmarker} So , I just neglected to stick something in . \" Perspective \" , \" actor \" , \" undergoer \" , \" observer \" , um ,\nGrad B: Mmm .\nGrad F: I think we 've often used \" agent \" , \" patient \" , obser\nGrad E: \" Whee ! \" That 's that one , right ?\nGrad F: Yeah , exactly . {vocalsound} Exactly . Um , and so one nice thing that , uh , we had talked about is this example {comment} of like , if you have a passive construction then one thing it does is ch you know {disfmarker} definitely , it is one way to {disfmarker} for you to , you know , specifically take the perspective of the undergoing kind of object . And so then we talked about , you know , whether well , does that specify topic as well ? Well , maybe there are other things . You know , now that it 's {disfmarker} subject is more like a topic . And now that , you know {disfmarker} Anyway . So . Sorry . I 'm gonna trail off on that one cuz it 's not that f important right now .\nProfessor C: N now , for the moment we just need the ability to l l write it down if {disfmarker} if somebody figured out what the rules were .\nGrad F: Um , To know how {disfmarker} Yeah . Yeah . Exactly .\nProfessor C: Yeah .\nGrad F: Um , some of these other ones , let 's see . So , uh , one thing I 'm uncertain about is how polarity interacts .\nProfessor C: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: So polarity , uh , is using for like action did not take place for instance . So by default it 'll be like \" true \" , I guess , you know , if you 're specifying events that did happen . You could imagine that you skip out this {disfmarker} you know , leave off this polarity , you know , not {disfmarker} don't have it here . And then have it part of the speech - act in some way .\nProfessor C: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: There 's some negation . But the reason why I left it in is cuz you might have a change of state , let 's say , where some state holds and then some state doesn't hold , and you 're just talking , you know {disfmarker} if you 're trying to have the nuts and bolts of simulation you need to know that , you know , whatever , the holder doesn't and {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: No , I th I think at this lev which is {disfmarker} it should be where you have it .\nGrad F: OK , it 's {disfmarker} so it 's {disfmarker} it 's {disfmarker} it 's fine where it is .\nProfessor C: I mean , how you get it may {disfmarker} may in will often involve the discourse\nGrad F: So , OK . May come from a few places .\nProfessor C: but {disfmarker} but {disfmarker} by the time you 're simulating you sh y you should know that .\nGrad F: Right . Right .\nGrad E: So , {vocalsound} I 'm still just really not clear on what I 'm looking at . The \" scenario \" box , like , what does that look like for an example ? Like , not all of these things are gonna be here .\nGrad F: Yeah .\nProfessor C: Correct .\nGrad E: This is just basically says\nGrad F: Mm - hmm . It 's a grab bag of {disfmarker}\nGrad E: \" part of what I 'm going to hand you is a whole bunch of s uh , schemas , image , and X - schemas . Here are some examples of the sorts of things you might have in there \" .\nGrad F: So that 's exactly what it is .\nGrad E: OK .\nGrad F: And for a particular instance which I will , you know , make an example of something , is that you might have an instance of container and path , let 's say , as part of your , you know , \" into \" you know , definition .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm . Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: So you would eventually have instances filled in with various {disfmarker} various values for all the different slots .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: And they 're bound up in , you know , their bindings and {disfmarker} and {disfmarker} and values .\nProfessor C: W it c\nGrad E: OK . Do you have to say about the binding in your {disfmarker} is there a slot in here for {disfmarker} that tells you how the bindings are done ?\nProfessor C: No , no , no . I {disfmarker} let 's see , I think we 're {disfmarker} we 're not {disfmarker} I don't think we have it quite right yet . So , uh , what this is ,\nGrad E: OK .\nProfessor C: let 's suppose for the moment it 's complete . OK , uh , then this says that when an analysis is finished , the whole analysis is finished , {comment} you 'll have as a result , uh , some s resulting s semspec for that utterance in context ,\nGrad E: OK . Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: which is made up entirely of these things and , uh , bindings among them . And bindings to ontology items .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: So that {disfmarker} that the who that this is the tool kit under whi out of which you can make a semantic specification .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm . Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: So that 's A . But B , which is more relevant to your life , is this is also the tool kit that is used in the semantic side of constructions .\nGrad E: OK . Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: So this is an that anything you have , in the party line , {comment} anything you have as the semantic side of constructions comes , from pieces of this {disfmarker} ignoring li\nGrad E: OK .\nProfessor C: I mean , in general , you ignore lots of it .\nGrad E: Right .\nProfessor C: But it 's got to be pieces of this along with constraints among them .\nGrad E: OK .\nProfessor C: Uh , so that the , you know , goal of the , uh uh , \" source , path , goal \" has to be the landmark of the conta you know , the interior of this container .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: Or whate whatever .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nProfessor C: So those constraints appear in constructions\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: but pretty much this is the full range of semantic structures available to you .\nGrad E: OK .\nGrad F: Except for \" cause \" , that I forgot . But anyway , there 's som some kind of causal structure for composite events .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nProfessor C: OK , good . Let 's {disfmarker} let 's mark that . So we need a c\nGrad F: Uh , I mean , so it gets a little funny . These are all {disfmarker} so far these structures , especially from \" path \" and on down , these are sort of relatively familiar , um , image schematic kind of slots . Now with \" cause \" , uh , the fillers will actually be themselves frames . Right ?\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: So you 'll say , \" event one causes event B {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: And {disfmarker} and {disfmarker} and {disfmarker} and this {disfmarker} this {disfmarker} this again may ge our , um {disfmarker} and we {disfmarker} and {disfmarker} and , of course , worlds .\nGrad F: uh , event two \" , and {disfmarker}\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: Yeah . So that 's , uh these are all implicitly one {disfmarker} within , uh within one world . Um , even though saying that place takes place , whatever . Uh , if y if I said \" time \" is , you know , \" past \" , that would say \" set that this world \" , you know , \" somewhere , before the world that corresponds to our current speech time \" .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm . Mm - hmm . Yeah .\nGrad F: So . But that {disfmarker} that {disfmarker} that 's sort of OK . The {disfmarker} the {disfmarker} within the event it 's st it 's still one world . Um . Yeah , so \" cause \" and {disfmarker} Other frames that could come in {disfmarker} I mean , unfortunately you could bring in say for instance , um , uh , \" desire \" or something like that ,\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: like \" want \" . And actually there is right now under \" discourse segments \" , um , \" attitude \" ?\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: \" Volition \" ? could fill that . So there are a couple things where I like , \" oh , I 'm not sure if I wanted to have it there\nGrad E: Well that 's {disfmarker}\nGrad F: or {disfmarker} \" Basically there was a whole list of {disfmarker} of possible speaker attitudes that like say Talmy listed . And , like , well , I don't {disfmarker} you know , it was like \" hope , wish . desire \" ,\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad E: Uh - huh .\nGrad F: blah - blah - blah . And it 's like , well , I feel like if I wanted to have an extra meaning {disfmarker} I don't know if those are grammatically marked in the first place . So {disfmarker} They 're more lexically marked , right ?\nGrad E: Mmm .\nGrad F: At least in English . So if I wanted to I would stick in an extra frame in my meaning , saying , e so th it 'd be a hierarchical frame them , right ? You know , like \" Naomi wants {disfmarker} wants su a certain situation and that situation itself is a state of affairs \" .\nProfessor C: S right . So {disfmarker} so , \" want \" itself can be {disfmarker} {pause} i i i i i\nGrad F: u Can be just another frame that 's part of your {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: Well , and it i basically it 's an action . In {disfmarker} in our s in our {disfmarker} in our {disfmarker}\nGrad F: Yeah . Situation . {comment} Right , right .\nProfessor C: in {disfmarker} in our {disfmarker} in our s terminology , \" want \" can be an action and \" what you want \" is a world .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad B: Hmm .\nProfessor C: So that 's {disfmarker} I mean , it 's certainly one way to do it .\nGrad F: Mmm .\nProfessor C: Yeah , there {disfmarker} there are other things .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: Causal stuff we absolutely need . Mental space we need .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: The context we need . Um , so anyway , Keith {disfmarker} So is this comfortable to you that , uh , once we have this defined , it is your tool kit for building the semantic part of constructions .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: And then when we combine constructions semantically , the goal is going to be to fill out more and more of the bindings needed in order to come up with the final one .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: And that 's the wh and {disfmarker} and I mean , that {disfmarker} according to the party line , that 's the whole story .\nGrad E: Yeah . Mm - hmm . Yeah . Um . y Right . That makes sense . So I mean , there 's this stuff in the {disfmarker} off in the scenario , which just tells you how various {disfmarker} what schemas you 're using and they 're {disfmarker} how they 're bound together . And I guess that some of the discourse segment stuff {disfmarker} is that where you would sa\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: I mean , that 's {disfmarker} OK , that 's where the information structure is which sort of is a kind of profiling on different parts of , um , of this .\nGrad F: Right . Exactly .\nGrad E: I mean , what 's interesting is that the information structure stuff {disfmarker} Hmm . There 's almost {disfmarker} I mean , we keep coming back to how focus is like this {disfmarker} this , uh , trajector - landmark thing .\nGrad F: Yeah .\nGrad E: So if I say , um , You know , \" In France it 's like this \" . You know , great , we 've learned something about France but the fact is that utterances of that sort are generally used to help you draw a conclusion also about some implicit contrast , like \" In France it 's like this \" . And therefore you 're supposed to say , \" Boy , life sure {disfmarker} \"\nGrad F: Right .\nGrad E: You know , \" in France kids are allowed to drink at age three \" . And w you 're {disfmarker} that 's not just a fact about France . You also conclude something about how boring it is here in the U S . Right ?\nGrad F: Right , right .\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad E: And so {disfmarker}\nGrad F: S so I would prefer not to worry about that for right now\nGrad E: OK .\nGrad F: and to think that there are , um ,\nGrad E: That comes in and , uh {disfmarker}\nGrad F: discourse level constructions in a sense , topic {disfmarker} topic - focus constructions that would say , \" oh , when you focus something \" then {disfmarker}\nGrad E: Mm - hmm . Yeah .\nGrad F: just done the same way {disfmarker} just actually in the same way as the lower level . If you stressed , you know , \" John went to the {disfmarker} \" , you know , \" the bar \" whatever , you 're focusing that\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: and a in a possible inference is \" in contrast to other things \" .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: So similarly for a whole sentence , you know , \" in France such - and - such happens \" .\nGrad E: Yeah . Yeah , yeah .\nGrad F: So the whole thing is sort of like again implicitly as opposed to other things that are possible .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad A: Uh , just {disfmarker} just , uh , look {disfmarker} read uh even sem semi formal Mats Rooth .\nGrad F: I mean {disfmarker} Yeah .\nGrad A: If you haven't read it . It 's nice .\nGrad F: Uh - huh .\nGrad A: And just pick any paper on alternative semantics .\nGrad F: Uh - huh .\nGrad E: OK .\nGrad A: So that 's his {disfmarker} that 's the best way of talking about focus , is I think his way .\nGrad E: OK , what was the name ?\nGrad A: Mats . MATS . Rooth .\nGrad E: OK .\nGrad A: I think two O 's , yes , TH .\nGrad E: OK .\nGrad A: I never know how to pronounce his name because he 's sort of ,\nProfessor C: S Swede ?\nGrad A: uh , he is Dutch\nProfessor C: Dutch ?\nGrad A: and , um {disfmarker} but very confused background I think .\nProfessor C: Oh , Dutch .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nProfessor C: Uh - huh .\nGrad A: So {pause} and , um ,\nGrad E: Mats Gould .\nGrad A: And sadly enough he also just left the IMS in Stuttgart . So he 's not there anymore .\nGrad E: Hmm .\nGrad A: But , um {disfmarker} I don't know where he is right now but alternative semantics is {disfmarker} if you type that into an , uh , uh , browser or search engine you 'll get tons of stuff .\nGrad E: OK . OK . OK , thanks .\nGrad A: And what I 'm kind of confused about is {disfmarker} is what the speaker and the hearer is {disfmarker} is sort of doing there .\nGrad F: So for a particular segment it 's really just a reference to some other entity again in the situation , right ? So for a particular segment the speaker might be you or might be me .\nGrad A: Yeah .\nGrad F: Um , hearer is a little bit harder . It could be like multiple people . I guess that {disfmarker} that {disfmarker} that {disfmarker} that 's not very clear from here {disfmarker}\nGrad A: Yeah , but you {disfmarker} Don't we ultimately want to handle that analogously to the way we handle time and place ,\nGrad F: I mean , that 's not allowed here .\nGrad A: because \" you \" , \" me \" , \" he \" , \" they \" , you know , \" these guys \" , all these expressions , nuh , are in {disfmarker} in much the same way contextually dependent as \" here , \" and \" now , \" and \" there \" {disfmarker}\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: Now , this is {disfmarker} this is assuming you 've already solved that .\nGrad F: Ye - yeah .\nProfessor C: So it 's {disfmarker} it 's Fred and Mary ,\nGrad F: So th\nProfessor C: so the speaker would be Fred and the {disfmarker}\nGrad A: Ah !\nGrad F: Right , so the constructions might {disfmarker} of course will refer , using pronouns or whatever .\nGrad A: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: In which case they have to check to see , uh , who the , uh , speaker in here wa in order to resolve those . But when you actually say that \" he walked into {disfmarker} \" , whatever , um , the \" he \" will refer to a particular {disfmarker} You {disfmarker} you will already have figured who \" he \" or \" you \" , mmm , or \" I \" , maybe is a bett better example , who \" I \" refers to . Um , and then you 'd just be able to refer to Harry , you know , in wherever that person {disfmarker} whatever role that person was playing in the event .\nGrad A: Mmm . That 's up at the reference part .\nGrad F: Yeah , yeah .\nGrad A: And down there in the speaker - hearer part ?\nGrad F: S so , that 's {disfmarker} I think that 's just {disfmarker} n for instance , Speaker is known from the situation , right ? You 're {disfmarker} when you hear something you 're told who the speaker is {disfmarker} I mean , you know who the speaker is . In fact , that 's kind of constraining how {disfmarker} in some ways you know this before you get to the {disfmarker} you fill in all the rest of it . I think .\nProfessor C: Mmm .\nGrad F: I mean , how else would you um {disfmarker}\nGrad A: You know , uh , uh , it 's {disfmarker} the speaker may {disfmarker} in English is allowed to say \" I . \"\nProfessor C: Yeah . Well , here {disfmarker}\nGrad A: Uh , among the twenty - five percent most used words .\nGrad F: Yeah . Right .\nGrad A: But wouldn't the \" I \" then set up the {disfmarker} the s s referent {disfmarker} that happens to be the speaker this time\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad A: and not \" they , \" whoever they are .\nGrad F: Right , right .\nGrad A: Or \" you \" {disfmarker}\nGrad F: So {disfmarker}\nGrad A: much like the \" you \" could n\nGrad F: S so {disfmarker} OK , so I would say ref under referent should be something that corresponds to \" I \" . And maybe each referent should probably have a list of way whatever , the way it was referred to . So that 's \" I \" but , uh , uh , should we say it {disfmarker} it refers to , what ? Uh , if it were \" Harry \" it would refer to like some ontology thing . If it were {disfmarker} if it 's \" I \" it would refer to the current speaker , OK , which is given to be like , you know , whoever it is .\nGrad A: Well , not {disfmarker} not always . I mean , so there 's \" and then he said , I w \" Uh - huh .\nProfessor C: Uh {disfmarker}\nGrad F: \" I \" within the current world .\nGrad A: Yeah .\nProfessor C: Yeah . That 's right . So {disfmarker} so again , this {disfmarker} uh , this {disfmarker} this is gonna to get us into the mental space stuff\nGrad F: Yeah , yeah , yeah , yeah .\nProfessor C: and t because you know , \" Fred said that Mary said {disfmarker} \" , and whatever .\nGrad E: Mmm .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: And {disfmarker} and so we 're , uh gonna have to , um , chain those as well .\nGrad A: Mm - hmm . Twhhh - whhh . But {disfmarker}\nGrad F: Mm - hmm . So this entire thing is inside a world ,\nProfessor C: Right . Right .\nGrad F: not just like the top part .\nProfessor C: I {disfmarker} I think , uh {disfmarker}\nGrad F: That 's {disfmarker}\nGrad A: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: Except s it 's {disfmarker} it 's trickier than that because um , the reference for example {disfmarker} So he where it gets really tricky is there 's some things ,\nGrad F: Yeah .\nProfessor C: and this is where blends and all terribl So , some things which really are meant to be identified and some things which aren't .\nGrad F: Yeah . Right .\nProfessor C: And again , all we need for the moment is some way to say that .\nGrad F: Right . So I thought of having like {disfmarker} for each referent , having the list of {disfmarker} of the things t with which it is identified . You know , which {disfmarker} which , uh you know , you {disfmarker} you {disfmarker} you {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: You could do that .\nGrad F: for instance , um {disfmarker} So , I guess , it sort of depends on if it is a referring exp if it 's identifiable already or it 's a new thing .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: If it 's a new thing you 'd have to like create a structure or whatever . If it 's an old thing it could be referring to , um , usually w something in a situation , right ? Or something in ontology .\nProfessor C: uh - huh .\nGrad F: So , there 's a you know , whatever , it c it could point at one of these .\nProfessor C: I just had a {disfmarker} I just had an {disfmarker} an idea that would be very nice if it works .\nGrad F: For what ?\nProfessor C: Uh , uh , uh , I haven't told you what it is yet .\nGrad F: If it works .\nProfessor C: This was my build - up .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm . Mmm .\nProfessor C: An i an idea that would be nice i\nGrad F: Yeah . OK , we 're crossing our fingers .\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad B: So we 're building a mental space , good .\nProfessor C: If it worked . Yeah .\nGrad F: OK .\nProfessor C: Right , it was a space builder . Um , we might be able to handle context in the same way that we handle mental spaces because , uh , you have somewhat the same things going on of , uh , things being accessible or not .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: And so , i\nGrad F: Yep .\nProfessor C: it c it {disfmarker} it , uh I think if we did it right we might be able to get at least a lot of the same structure .\nGrad F: Use the same {disfmarker} {comment} Yep .\nProfessor C: So that pulling something out of a discourse context is I think similar to other kinds of , uh , mental space phenomena .\nGrad B: I see .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm . And {disfmarker} And {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: Uh , I 've {disfmarker} I 've {disfmarker} I 've never seen anybody write that up but maybe they did . I don't know . That may be all over the literature .\nGrad F: Yeah .\nGrad E: There 's things like ther you know , there 's all kinds of stuff like , um , in {disfmarker} I think I mentioned last time in Czech if you have a {disfmarker} a verb of saying then\nGrad F: So {disfmarker} so by default {disfmarker}\nGrad E: um , you know , you say something like {disfmarker} or {disfmarker} or I was thinking you can say something like , \" oh , I thought , uh , you are a republican \" or something like that . Where as in English you would say , \" I thought you were \" .\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad E: Um , you know , sort of the past tense being copied onto the lower verb doesn't happen there , so you have to say something about , you know , tense is determined relative to current blah - blah - blah .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: Same things happens with pronouns .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: There 's languages where , um , if you have a verb of saying then , ehhh , where {disfmarker} OK , so a situation like \" Bob said he was going to the movies \" , where that lower subject is the same as the person who was saying or thinking , you 're actually required to have \" I \" there .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: Um , and it 's sort of in an extended function {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: So we would have it be in quotes in English .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad B: Right .\nGrad E: But it 's not perceived as a quotative construction .\nGrad F: Right .\nProfessor C: Yeah .\nGrad E: I mean , it 's been analyzed by the formalists as being a logophoric pronoun , um which means a pronoun which refers back to the person who is speaking or that sort of thing , right ?\nProfessor C: OK .\nGrad F: Oh , right . Yeah , that makes sense .\nGrad E: Um , but {disfmarker} uh , that happens to sound like the word for \" I \" but is actually semantically unrelated to it .\nGrad F: Oh , no !\nProfessor C: Oh , good , I love the formali\nGrad E: Um ,\nGrad F: Really ?\nGrad E: Yeah . {vocalsound} Yeah .\nGrad F: You 're kidding .\nGrad E: There 's a whole book which basically operates on this assumption . Uh , Mary Dalrymple , uh , this book , a ninety - three book on , uh on pronoun stuff .\nGrad F: No , that 's horrible . OK . That 's horrible . {comment} OK .\nGrad E: Well , yeah . And then the same thing for ASL where , you know , you 're signing and someone says something . And then , you know , so \" he say \" , and then you sort of do a role shift . And then you sign \" I , this , that , and the other \" .\nGrad F: Uh - huh .\nGrad E: And you know , \" I did this \" . That 's also been analyzed as logophoric and having nothing to do with \" I \" . And the role shift thing is completely left out and so on . So , I mean , the point is that pronoun references , uh , you know , sort of ties in with all this mental space stuff and so on , and so forth .\nGrad F: Uh - huh .\nGrad E: And so , yeah , I mean {disfmarker}\nGrad F: Yeah .\nProfessor C: So that {disfmarker} that d that does sound like it 's co consistent with what we 're saying , yeah .\nGrad E: Right . Yeah .\nGrad F: OK , so it 's kind of like the unspecified mental spaces just are occurring in context . And then when you embed them sometimes you have to pop up to the h you know , depending on the construction or the whatever , um , you {disfmarker} you {disfmarker} you 're scope is {disfmarker} m might extend out to the {disfmarker} the base one .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: It would be nice to actually use the same , um , mechanism since there are so many cases where you actually need it 'll be one or the other .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: It 's like , oh , actually , it 's the same {disfmarker} same operation .\nProfessor C: Oh , OK , so this {disfmarker} this is worth some thought .\nGrad F: So .\nGrad E: It 's like {disfmarker} it 's like what 's happening {disfmarker} that , yeah , what what 's happening , uh , there is that you 're moving the base space or something like that , right ?\nGrad F: Yeah , yeah .\nGrad E: So that 's {disfmarker} that 's how Fauconnier would talk about it . And it happens diff under different circumstances in different languages .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: And so ,\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: um , things like pronoun reference and tense which we 're thinking of as being these discourse - y things actually are relative to a Bayes space which can change .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm ,\nGrad E: And we need all the same machinery .\nGrad F: right .\nGrad A: Mm - hmm .\nGrad F: Robert .\nProfessor C: Well , but , uh , this is very good actually\nGrad E: Schade .\nProfessor C: cuz it {disfmarker} it {disfmarker} it {disfmarker} to the extent that it works , it y\nGrad F: Ties it all into it .\nProfessor C: it {disfmarker} it ties together several of {disfmarker} of these things .\nGrad F: Yeah . Yep .\nGrad A: Mm - hmm . Mm - hmm . And I 'm sure gonna read the transcript of this one . So . But the , uh , {disfmarker} {vocalsound} But it 's too bad that we don't have a camera . You know , all the pointing is gonna be lost .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: Oh , yeah .\nGrad B: Well every time Nancy giggles it means {disfmarker} it means that it 's your job .\nGrad F: Yeah , that 's why I said \" point to Robert \" , {vocalsound} when I did it .\nGrad A: Uh . Yeah . Mmm , isn't {disfmarker} I mean , I 'm {disfmarker} I was sort of dubious why {disfmarker} why he even introduces this sort of reality , you know , as your basic mental space and then builds up {disfmarker}\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nGrad A: d doesn't start with some {disfmarker} because it 's so obvi it should be so obvious , at least it is to me , {comment} that whenever I say something I could preface that with \" I think . \" Nuh ?\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad A: So there should be no categorical difference between your base and all the others that ensue .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nProfessor C: No , but there 's {disfmarker} there 's a Gricean thing going on there , that when you say \" I think \" you 're actually hedging .\nGrad E: Yeah , I mean {disfmarker}\nGrad F: Mmm . It 's like I don't totally think {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad E: Yeah . Y\nGrad F: I mostly think , uh {disfmarker}\nGrad A: Yeah , it 's {disfmarker} Absolutely .\nGrad E: Yeah , it 's an {disfmarker} it 's an evidential . It 's sort of semi - grammaticalized . People have talked about it this way . And you know , you can do sort of special things . You can , th put just the phrase \" I think \" as a parenthetical in the middle of a sentence and so on , and so forth .\nGrad A: Yeah .\nGrad E: So {disfmarker}\nGrad F: Actually one of the child language researchers who works with T Tomasello studied a bunch of these constructions and it was like it 's not using any kind of interesting embedded ways just to mark , you know , uncertainty or something like that .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: So .\nGrad A: Yeah , but about linguistic hedges , I mean , those {disfmarker} those tend to be , um , funky anyways because they blur {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: So we don't have that in here either do we ?\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: Hedges ?\nProfessor C: Yeah , yeah .\nGrad F: Hhh , {comment} I {disfmarker} there used to be a slot for speaker , um , it was something like factivity . I couldn't really remember what it meant\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: so I took it out .\nGrad E: Um .\nGrad F: But it 's something {disfmarker}\nGrad E: Well we were just talking about this sort of evidentiality and stuff like that , right ?\nGrad F: we {disfmarker} we were talking about sarcasm too , right ? Oh , oh .\nGrad E: I mean ,\nGrad F: Oh , yeah , yeah , right .\nGrad E: that 's what I think is , um , sort of telling you what percent reality you should give this\nProfessor C: So we probably should .\nGrad F: Yeah .\nGrad A: Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: or the , you know {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: Confidence or something like that .\nGrad E: Yeah , and the fact that I 'm , you know {disfmarker} the fact maybe if I think it versus he thinks that might , you know , depending on how much you trust the two of us or whatever ,\nGrad F: Yeah .\nGrad A: Uh great word in the English language is called \" about \" .\nGrad E: you know {disfmarker}\nGrad A: If you study how people use that it 's also {disfmarker}\nGrad F: What 's the word ?\nGrad A: \" about . \" It 's about {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: About .\nGrad A: clever .\nProfessor C: Oh , that {disfmarker} in that use of \" about \" , yeah .\nGrad F: Oh , oh , oh , as a hedge .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nProfessor C: And I think {disfmarker} And I think {pause} y if you want us to spend a pleasant six or seven hours you could get George started on that .\nGrad E: He wrote a paper about thirty - five years ago on that one .\nGrad B: I r I read that paper ,\nProfessor C: Yeah .\nGrad B: the hedges paper ? I read some of that paper actually .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nProfessor C: Yeah .\nGrad E: Would you believe that that paper lead directly to the development of anti - lock brakes ?\nGrad F: What ?\nProfessor C: No .\nGrad E: Ask me about it later I 'll tell you how . When we 're not on tape .\nGrad F: I 'd love to know .\nGrad B: Oh , man .\nGrad F: So , and {disfmarker} and I think , uh , someone had raised like sarcasm as a complication at some point .\nProfessor C: There 's all that stuff . Yeah , let 's {disfmarker} I {disfmarker} I don't {disfmarker} I think {disfmarker}\nGrad F: And we just won't deal with sarcastic people .\nProfessor C: Yeah , I mean {disfmarker}\nGrad E: I don't really know what like {disfmarker} We {disfmarker} we don't have to care too much about the speaker attitude , right ? Like there 's not so many different {disfmarker} hhh , {comment} I don't know , m\nGrad F: Certainly not as some {disfmarker} Well , they 're intonational markers I think for the most part .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad F: I don't know too much about the like grammatical {disfmarker}\nGrad E: I just mean {disfmarker} There 's lots of different attitudes that {disfmarker} that the speaker could have and that we can clearly identify , and so on , and so forth .\nGrad F: Yeah .\nGrad E: But like what are the distinctions among those that we actually care about for our current purposes ?\nProfessor C: Right . Right , so , uh , this {disfmarker} this raises the question of what are our current purposes .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: Right ?\nGrad E: Oh , shoot .\nGrad F: Oh , yeah , do we have any ?\nGrad E: Here it is three - fifteen already .\nGrad A: Mmm . Yeah .\nProfessor C: Uh , so , um , I {disfmarker} I don't know the answer but {disfmarker} but , um , it does seem that , you know , this is {disfmarker} this is coming along . I think it 's {disfmarker} it 's converging . It 's {disfmarker} as far as I can tell there 's this one major thing we have to do which is the mental {disfmarker} the whole s mental space thing . And then there 's some other minor things .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: Um , and we 're going to have to s sort of bound the complexity . I mean , if we get everything that anybody ever thought about you know , w we 'll go nuts .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nProfessor C: So we had started with the idea that the actual , uh , constraint was related to this tourist domain and the kinds of interactions that might occur in the tourist domain , assuming that people were being helpful and weren't trying to d you know , there 's all sorts of {disfmarker} God knows , irony , and stuff like {disfmarker} which you {disfmarker} isn't probably of much use in dealing with a tourist guide .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nProfessor C: Yeah ?\nGrad E: Yeah .\nProfessor C: Uh .\nGrad F: M mockery .\nProfessor C: Right . Whatever . So y uh , no end of things th that {disfmarker} that , you know , we don't deal with .\nGrad A: But it {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: And {disfmarker}\nGrad A: i isn't that part easy though\nProfessor C: Go ahead .\nGrad A: because in terms of the s simspec , it would just mean you put one more set of brack brackets around it , and then just tell it to sort of negate whatever the content of that is in terms of irony\nGrad E: Yeah .\nProfessor C: N no .\nGrad F: Mmm .\nGrad A: or {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: No .\nGrad E: Right .\nGrad F: Maybe .\nProfessor C: No .\nGrad F: Yeah , in model theory cuz the semantics is always like \" speaker believes not - P \" , you know ?\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad F: Like \" the speaker says P and believes not - P \" .\nGrad E: We have a theoretical model of sarcasm now .\nGrad F: But {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad E: Yeah , right , I mean .\nProfessor C: No , no .\nGrad F: Right , right , but ,\nProfessor C: Anyway , so {disfmarker} so , um , I guess uh , let me make a proposal on how to proceed on that , which is that , um , it was Keith 's , uh , sort of job over the summer to come up with this set of constructions . Uh , and my suggestion to Keith is that you , over the next couple weeks , n\nGrad E: Mmm .\nProfessor C: don't try to do them in detail or formally but just try to describe which ones you think we ought to have .\nGrad E: OK .\nProfessor C: Uh , and then when Robert gets back we 'll look at the set of them .\nGrad E: OK .\nProfessor C: Just {disfmarker} just sort of , you know , define your space .\nGrad E: Yeah , OK .\nProfessor C: And , um , so th these are {disfmarker} this is a set of things that I think we ought to deal with .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nProfessor C: And then we 'll {disfmarker} we 'll {disfmarker} we 'll go back over it and w people will {disfmarker} will give feedback on it .\nGrad E: OK .\nProfessor C: And then {disfmarker} then we 'll have a {disfmarker} at least initial spec of {disfmarker} of what we 're actually trying to do .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nProfessor C: And that 'll also be useful for anybody who 's trying to write a parser .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: Knowing uh {disfmarker}\nGrad E: In case there 's any around .\nGrad F: If we knew anybody like that .\nProfessor C: Right , \" who might want \" et cetera . So , uh {disfmarker}\nGrad E: OK .\nProfessor C: So a and we get this {disfmarker} this , uh , portals fixed and then we have an idea of the sort of initial range . And then of course Nancy you 're gonna have to , uh , do your set of {disfmarker} but you have to do that anyway .\nGrad F: For the same , yeah , data . Yeah , mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: So {disfmarker} so we 're gonna get the w we 're basically dealing with two domains , the tourist domain and the {disfmarker} and the child language learning .\nGrad B: Mmm .\nProfessor C: And we 'll see what we need for those two . And then my proposal would be to , um , not totally cut off more general discussion but to focus really detailed work on the subset of things that we 've {disfmarker} we really want to get done .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: And then as a kind of separate thread , think about the more general things and {disfmarker} and all that .\nGrad E: Mm - hmm . Mm - hmm .\nGrad A: Well , I also think the detailed discussion will hit {disfmarker} you know , bring us to problems that are of a general nature and maybe even {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: Uh , without doubt . Yeah .\nGrad F: Yeah .\nGrad A: even suggest some solutions .\nProfessor C: But what I want to do is {disfmarker} is {disfmarker} is to {disfmarker} to constrain the things that we really feel responsible for .\nGrad A: Yeah . Mmm .\nProfessor C: So that {disfmarker} that we say these are the things we 're really gonna try do by the end of the summer\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: and other things we 'll put on a list of {disfmarker} of research problems or something , because you can easily get to the point where nothing gets done because every time you start to do something you say , \" oh , yeah , but what about this case ? \"\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: This is {disfmarker} this is called being a linguist .\nGrad A: Mmm .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nProfessor C: And , uh ,\nGrad E: Basically .\nGrad F: Or me .\nProfessor C: Huh ?\nGrad F: Or me . Anyways {disfmarker}\nGrad B: There 's that quote in Jurafsky and Martin where {disfmarker} where it goes {disfmarker} where some guy goes , \" every time I fire a linguist the performance of the recognizer goes up . \"\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad F: Yeah .\nGrad E: Exactly .\nProfessor C: Right . But anyway . So , is {disfmarker} is that {disfmarker} does that make sense as a , uh {disfmarker} a general way to proceed ?\nGrad F: Sure , yeah .\nGrad E: Yeah , yeah , we 'll start with that , just figuring out what needs to be done then actually the next step is to start trying to do it .\nProfessor C: Exactly right .\nGrad A: Mmm .\nGrad E: Got it .\nGrad A: Mmm .\nGrad E: OK .\nGrad A: We have a little bit of news , uh , just minor stuff . The one big {disfmarker}\nGrad B: Ooo , can I ask a {disfmarker}\nGrad E: You ran out of power .\nGrad A: Huh ?\nGrad B: Can I ask a quick question about this side ?\nGrad A: Yeah .\nGrad F: Yes .\nGrad B: Is this , uh {disfmarker} was it intentional to leave off things like \" inherits \" and {disfmarker}\nGrad F: Oops . Um ,\nGrad E: No .\nGrad F: not really {disfmarker} just on the constructions , right ?\nGrad B: Yeah , like constructions can inherit from other things ,\nGrad F: Um ,\nGrad B: am I right ?\nGrad F: yeah .\nGrad B: Yeah .\nGrad F: I didn't want to think too much about that for {disfmarker} for now .\nGrad B: OK .\nProfessor C: Yeah .\nGrad F: So , uh , maybe it was subconsciously intentional .\nProfessor C: Yeah , uh {disfmarker} yeah .\nGrad E: Um , yeah , there should be {disfmarker} I {disfmarker} I wanted to s find out someday if there was gonna be some way of dealing with , uh , if this is the right term , multiple inheritance ,\nProfessor C: Mm - hmm .\nGrad E: where one construction is inheriting from , uh from both parents ,\nGrad F: Uh - huh . Yep .\nGrad E: uh , or different ones , or three or four different ones .\nProfessor C: Yeah . So let me {disfmarker}\nGrad E: Cuz the problem is that then you have to {disfmarker}\nGrad F: Yeah .\nGrad E: which of {disfmarker} you know , which are {disfmarker} how they 're getting bound together .\nGrad F: Refer to {pause} them .\nProfessor C: Yeah , right , right , right . Yeah , yeah , yeah .\nGrad F: Yeah , and {disfmarker} and there are certainly cases like that . Even with just semantic schemas we have some examples .\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad F: So , and we 've been talking a little bit about that anyway .\nProfessor C: Yeah . So what I would like to do is separate that problem out .\nGrad F: Inherits .\nProfessor C: So um ,\nGrad E: OK .\nProfessor C: my argument is there 's nothing you can do with that that you can't do by just having more constructions .\nGrad E: Yeah , yes .\nProfessor C: It 's uglier and it d doesn't have the deep linguistic insights and stuff .\nGrad E: That 's right .\nProfessor C: Uh ,\nGrad E: But whatever .\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad E: Yeah , no , no , no no .\nGrad F: Uh , those are over rated .\nGrad E: No , by all means ,\nProfessor C: And so I {disfmarker} what I 'd like to do is {disfmarker} is in the short run focus on getting it right .\nGrad E: right . Uh , sure .\nProfessor C: And when we think we have it right then saying , \" aha ! ,\nGrad E: Yeah .\nProfessor C: can we make it more elegant ? \"\nGrad E: Yeah , that 's {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: Can {disfmarker} can we , uh {disfmarker} What are the generalizations , and stuff ?\nGrad E: Yeah . Connect the dots . Yeah .\nProfessor C: But rather than try to guess a inheritance structure and all that sort of stuff before we know what we 're doing .\nGrad E: Yep . Yeah .\nProfessor C: So I would say in the short run we 're not gonna b\nGrad E: Yeah .\nProfessor C: First of all , we 're not doing them yet at all . And {disfmarker} and it could be that half way through we say , \" aha ! , we {disfmarker} we now see how we want to clean it up . \"\nGrad E: Mm - hmm .\nProfessor C: Uh , and inheritance is only one {disfmarker} I mean , that 's one way to organize it but there are others . And it may or may not be the best way .\nGrad E: Yeah .\nGrad A: Mmm .\nProfessor C: I 'm sorry , you had news .\nGrad A: Oh , just small stuff . Um , thanks to Eva on our web site we can now , if you want to run JavaBayes , uh , you could see {disfmarker} get {disfmarker} download these classes . And then it will enable you {disfmarker} she modified the GUI so it has now a m a m a button menu item for saving it into the embedded JavaBayes format .\nGrad D: Mm - hmm .\nGrad B: Mmm .\nGrad A: So that 's wonderful .\nProfessor C: Great .\nGrad A: And , um and she , a You tested it out . Do you want to say something about that , that it works , right ? With the {disfmarker}\nGrad D: I was just checking like , when we wanna , um , get the posterior probability of , like , variables . You know how you asked whether we can , like , just observe all the variables like in the same list ? You can't .\nGrad A: Uh - huh .\nGrad D: You have to make separate queries every time .\nGrad A: OK , that 's {disfmarker} that 's a bit unfortunate\nGrad D: So {disfmarker} Yeah .\nGrad A: but for the time being it 's {disfmarker} it 's {disfmarker} it 's fine to do it {disfmarker}\nGrad D: You just have to have a long list of , you know , all the variables .\nGrad A: Yeah . But uh {disfmarker}\nGrad D: Basically .\nGrad F: Uh , all the things you want to query , you just have to like ask for separately .\nGrad D: Yeah , yeah .\nGrad A: Well that 's {disfmarker} probably maybe in the long term that 's good news because it forces us to think a little bit more carefully how {disfmarker} how we want to get an out output . Um , but that 's a different discussion for a different time . And , um , I don't know . We 're really running late , so I had , uh , an idea yesterday but , uh , I don't know whether we should even start discussing .\nProfessor C: W what {disfmarker} Yeah , sure , tell us what it is .\nGrad A: Um , the construal bit that , um , has been pointed to but hasn't been , um , made precise by any means , um , may w may work as follows . I thought that we would , uh {disfmarker} that the following thing would be in incredibly nice and I have no clue whether it will work at all or nothing . So that 's just a tangent , a couple of mental disclaimers here . Um , imagine you {disfmarker} you write a Bayes - net , um {disfmarker}\nGrad F: Bayes ?\nGrad A: Bayes - net ,\nGrad F: OK .\nGrad A: um , completely from scratch every time you do construal . So you have nothing . Just a white piece of paper .\nProfessor C: Mmm , right .\nGrad A: You consult {disfmarker} consult your ontology which will tell you a bunch of stuff , and parts , and properties , uh - uh - uh\nGrad F: Grout out the things that {disfmarker} that you need .\nProfessor C: Right .\nGrad A: then y you 'd simply write , uh , these into {disfmarker} onto your {disfmarker} your white piece of paper . And you will get a lot of notes and stuff out of there . You won't get {disfmarker} you won't really get any C P T 's , therefore we need everything that {disfmarker} that configures to what the situation is , IE , the context dependent stuff . So you get whatever comes from discourse but also filtered . Uh , so only the ontology relevant stuff from the discourse plus the situation and the user model .\nGrad F: Mm - hmm .\nGrad A: And that fills in your CPT 's with which you can then query , um , the {disfmarker} the net that you just wrote and find out how thing X is construed as an utterance U . And the embedded JavaBayes works exactly like that , that once you {disfmarker} we have , you know , precise format in which to write it , so we write it down . You query it . You get the result , and you throw it away . And the {disfmarker} the nice thing about this idea is that you don't ever have to sit down and think about it or write about it . You may have some general rules as to how things can be {disfmarker} can be construed as what , so that will allow you to craft the {disfmarker} the {disfmarker} the initial notes . But it 's {disfmarker} in that respect it 's completely scalable . Because it doesn't have any prior , um , configuration . It 's just you need an ontology of the domain and you need the context dependent modules . And if this can be made to work at all , {vocalsound} that 'd be kind of funky .\nProfessor C: Um , it sounds to me like you want P R\nGrad A: P R Ms - uh , PRM I mean , since you can unfold a PRM into a straightforward Bayes - net {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: Beca - because it {disfmarker} b because {disfmarker} No , no , you can't . See the {disfmarker} the critical thing about the PRM is it gives these relations in general form . So once you have instantiated the PRM with the instances and ther then you can {disfmarker} then you can unfold it .\nGrad A: Then you can . Mm - hmm , yeah . No , I was m using it generic . So , uh , probabilistic , whatever , relational models . Whatever you write it . In {disfmarker}\nProfessor C: Well , no , but it matters a lot because you {disfmarker} what you want are these generalized rules about the way things relate , th that you then instantiate in each case .\nGrad A: And then {disfmarker} then instantiate them . That 's ma maybe the {disfmarker} the way {disfmarker} the only way it works .\nProfessor C: Yeah , and that 's {disfmarker}\nGrad A: \nProfessor C: Yeah , that 's the only way it could work . I {disfmarker} we have a {disfmarker} our local expert on P R uh , but my guess is that they 're not currently good enough to do that . But we 'll {disfmarker} we 'll have to see .\nGrad A: But , uh ,\nProfessor C: Uh {disfmarker} Yes . This is {disfmarker} that 's {disfmarker} that would be a good thing to try . It 's related to the Hobbs abduction story in that you th you throw everything into a pot and you try to come up with the , uh {disfmarker}\nGrad A: Except there 's no {disfmarker} no theorem prover involved .\nGrad F: Best explanation .\nProfessor C: No , there isn't a theorem prover but there {disfmarker} but {disfmarker} but the , um , The cove the {disfmarker} the P R Ms are like rules of inference and you 're {disfmarker} you 're coupling a bunch of them together .\nGrad A: Mm - hmm , yeah .\nProfessor C: And then ins instead of proving you 're trying to , you know , compute the most likely . Uh {disfmarker} Tricky . But you {disfmarker} yeah , it 's a good {disfmarker} it 's a {disfmarker} it 's a good thing to put in your thesis proposal .\nGrad A: What 's it ?\nProfessor C: So are you gonna write something for us before you go ?\nGrad A: Yes . Um .\nProfessor C: Oh , you have something .\nGrad A: In the process thereof , or whatever .\nProfessor C: OK . So , what 's {disfmarker} what {disfmarker} when are we gonna meet again ?\nGrad F: When are you leaving ?\nGrad A: Fri - uh ,\nGrad F: Thursday , Friday ?\nGrad A: Thursday 's my last day here .\nGrad D: Fri\nProfessor C: Yeah .\nGrad F: OK .\nGrad A: So {disfmarker} I would suggest as soon as possible . Do you mean by we , the whole ben gang ?\nProfessor C: N no , I didn't mean y just the two of us . We {disfmarker} obviously we can {disfmarker} we can do this . But the question is do you want to , for example , send the little group , uh , a draft of your thesis proposal and get , uh , another session on feedback on that ? Or {disfmarker}\nGrad A: We can do it Th - Thursday again . Yeah .\nGrad E: Fine with me . Should we do the one PM time for Thursday since we were on that before or {disfmarker} ?\nGrad A: Sure .\nGrad E: OK .\nProfessor C: Alright .\nGrad D: Hmm .\nGrad A: Thursday at one ? I can also maybe then sort of run through the , uh {disfmarker} the talk I have to give at EML which highlights all of our work .\nProfessor C: OK .\nGrad A: And we can make some last minute changes on that .\nProfessor C: OK .\nGrad B: You can just give him the abstract that we wrote for the paper .\nProfessor C: That - that 'll tell him exactly what 's going on . Yeah , that {disfmarker} Alright .\nGrad F: Can we do {disfmarker} can we do one - thirty ?\nGrad A: No .\nGrad F: Oh , you already told me no .\nGrad A: But we can do four .\nGrad F: One , OK , it 's fine . I can do one . It 's fine . It 's fine .\nGrad A: One or four . I don't care .\nGrad E: To me this is equal . I don't care .\nGrad A: If it 's equal for all ? What should we do ?\nGrad F: Yeah , it 's fine .\nGrad A: Four ?\nGrad F: Fine . Yeah {disfmarker} no , no , no , uh , I don't care . It 's fine .\nGrad A: It 's equal to all of us , so you can decide one or four .\nGrad B: The pressure 's on you Nancy .\nGrad A: Liz actually said she likes four because it forces the Meeting Recorder people to cut , you know {disfmarker} the discussions short .\nGrad F: OK . OK , four .\nGrad E: Well , if you insist , then .\nGrad F: OK ? OK . I am .\n\nNow, answer the query based on the above meeting transcript in one or more sentences.\n\nQuery: What was concluded on semantic specification?\nAnswer:"}
{"question_id": 128, "category": "longbench_narrativeqa", "reference": ["Because she saw her husband's battle wounds"], "prompt": "You are given a story, which can be either a novel or a movie script, and a question. Answer the question asconcisely as you can, using a single phrase if possible. Do not provide any explanation.\n\nStory: Produced by Angus Christian\n\n\n\n\n\nOTTO OF THE SILVER HAND\n\nBy Howard Pyle\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n     I.    The Dragon's House,\n     II.   How the Baron Went Forth to Shear,\n     III.  How the Baron Came Home Shorn,\n     IV.   The White Cross on the Hill,\n     V.    How Otto Dwelt at St. Michaelsburg,\n     VI.   How Otto Lived in the Dragon's House,\n     VII.  The Red Cock Crows on Drachenhausen,\n     VIII. In the House of the Dragon Scorner,\n     IX.   How One-eyed Hans Came to Trutz-Drachen,\n     X.    How Hans Brought Terror to the Kitchen,\n     XI.   How Otto was Saved,\n     XII.  A Ride for Life,\n     XIII. How Baron Conrad Held the Bridge,\n     XIV.  How Otto Saw the Great Emperor,\n\n\n\n\nFOREWORD.\n\nBetween the far away past history of the world, and that which lies near\nto us; in the time when the wisdom of the ancient times was dead and\nhad passed away, and our own days of light had not yet come, there lay a\ngreat black gulf in human history, a gulf of ignorance, of superstition,\nof cruelty, and of wickedness.\n\nThat time we call the dark or middle ages.\n\nFew records remain to us of that dreadful period in our world's history,\nand we only know of it through broken and disjointed fragments that have\nbeen handed down to us through the generations.\n\nYet, though the world's life then was so wicked and black, there yet\nremained a few good men and women here and there (mostly in peaceful\nand quiet monasteries, far from the thunder and the glare of the worlds\nbloody battle), who knew the right and the truth and lived according to\nwhat they knew; who preserved and tenderly cared for the truths that the\ndear Christ taught, and lived and died for in Palestine so long ago.\n\nThis tale that I am about to tell is of a little boy who lived and\nsuffered in those dark middle ages; of how he saw both the good and the\nbad of men, and of how, by gentleness and love and not by strife and\nhatred, he came at last to stand above other men and to be looked up to\nby all. And should you follow the story to the end, I hope you may find\nit a pleasure, as I have done, to ramble through those dark ancient\ncastles, to lie with little Otto and Brother John in the high\nbelfry-tower, or to sit with them in the peaceful quiet of the sunny\nold monastery garden, for, of all the story, I love best those early\npeaceful years that little Otto spent in the dear old White Cross on the\nHill.\n\nPoor little Otto's life was a stony and a thorny pathway, and it is well\nfor all of us nowadays that we walk it in fancy and not in truth.\n\n\n\n\nI. The Dragon's House.\n\nUp from the gray rocks, rising sheer and bold and bare, stood the walls\nand towers of Castle Drachenhausen. A great gate-way, with a heavy\niron-pointed portcullis hanging suspended in the dim arch above, yawned\nblackly upon the bascule or falling drawbridge that spanned a chasm\nbetween the blank stone walls and the roadway that winding down the\nsteep rocky slope to the little valley just beneath. There in the lap of\nthe hills around stood the wretched straw-thatched huts of the peasants\nbelonging to the castle--miserable serfs who, half timid, half fierce,\ntilled their poor patches of ground, wrenching from the hard soil barely\nenough to keep body and soul together. Among those vile hovels played\nthe little children like foxes about their dens, their wild, fierce eyes\npeering out from under a mat of tangled yellow hair.\n\nBeyond these squalid huts lay the rushing, foaming river, spanned by a\nhigh, rude, stone bridge where the road from the castle crossed it, and\nbeyond the river stretched the great, black forest, within whose gloomy\ndepths the savage wild beasts made their lair, and where in winter time\nthe howling wolves coursed their flying prey across the moonlit snow and\nunder the net-work of the black shadows from the naked boughs above.\n\nThe watchman in the cold, windy bartizan or watch-tower that clung to\nthe gray walls above the castle gateway, looked from his narrow window,\nwhere the wind piped and hummed, across the tree-tops that rolled in\nendless billows of green, over hill and over valley to the blue and\ndistant slope of the Keiserberg, where, on the mountain side, glimmered\nfar away the walls of Castle Trutz-Drachen.\n\nWithin the massive stone walls through which the gaping gateway led,\nthree great cheerless brick buildings, so forbidding that even the\nyellow sunlight could not light them into brightness, looked down, with\nrow upon row of windows, upon three sides of the bleak, stone courtyard.\nBack of and above them clustered a jumble of other buildings, tower and\nturret, one high-peaked roof overtopping another.\n\nThe great house in the centre was the Baron's Hall, the part to the left\nwas called the Roderhausen; between the two stood a huge square pile,\nrising dizzily up into the clear air high above the rest--the great\nMelchior Tower.\n\nAt the top clustered a jumble of buildings hanging high aloft in the\nwindy space a crooked wooden belfry, a tall, narrow watch-tower, and a\nrude wooden house that clung partly to the roof of the great tower and\npartly to the walls.\n\nFrom the chimney of this crazy hut a thin thread of smoke would now and\nthen rise into the air, for there were folk living far up in that empty,\nairy desert, and oftentimes wild, uncouth little children were seen\nplaying on the edge of the dizzy height, or sitting with their bare\nlegs hanging down over the sheer depths, as they gazed below at what was\ngoing on in the court-yard. There they sat, just as little children in\nthe town might sit upon their father's door-step; and as the sparrows\nmight fly around the feet of the little town children, so the circling\nflocks of rooks and daws flew around the feet of these air-born\ncreatures.\n\nIt was Schwartz Carl and his wife and little ones who lived far up there\nin the Melchior Tower, for it overlooked the top of the hill behind the\ncastle and so down into the valley upon the further side. There, day\nafter day, Schwartz Carl kept watch upon the gray road that ran like a\nribbon through the valley, from the rich town of Gruenstaldt to the rich\ntown of Staffenburgen, where passed merchant caravans from the one to\nthe other--for the lord of Drachenhausen was a robber baron.\n\nDong! Dong! The great alarm bell would suddenly ring out from the belfry\nhigh up upon the Melchior Tower. Dong! Dong! Till the rooks and daws\nwhirled clamoring and screaming. Dong! Dong! Till the fierce wolf-hounds\nin the rocky kennels behind the castle stables howled dismally in\nanswer. Dong! Dong!--Dong! Dong!\n\nThen would follow a great noise and uproar and hurry in the castle\ncourt-yard below; men shouting and calling to one another, the ringing\nof armor, and the clatter of horses' hoofs upon the hard stone. With the\ncreaking and groaning of the windlass the iron-pointed portcullis would\nbe slowly raised, and with a clank and rattle and clash of iron chains\nthe drawbridge would fall crashing. Then over it would thunder horse and\nman, clattering away down the winding, stony pathway, until the great\nforest would swallow them, and they would be gone.\n\nThen for a while peace would fall upon the castle courtyard, the cock\nwould crow, the cook would scold a lazy maid, and Gretchen, leaning out\nof a window, would sing a snatch of a song, just as though it were a\npeaceful farm-house, instead of a den of robbers.\n\nMaybe it would be evening before the men would return once more. Perhaps\none would have a bloody cloth bound about his head, perhaps one would\ncarry his arm in a sling; perhaps one--maybe more than one--would be\nleft behind, never to return again, and soon forgotten by all excepting\nsome poor woman who would weep silently in the loneliness of her daily\nwork.\n\nNearly always the adventurers would bring back with them pack-horses\nladen with bales of goods. Sometimes, besides these, they would return\nwith a poor soul, his hands tied behind his back and his feet beneath\nthe horse's body, his fur cloak and his flat cap wofully awry. A while\nhe would disappear in some gloomy cell of the dungeon-keep, until an\nenvoy would come from the town with a fat purse, when his ransom would\nbe paid, the dungeon would disgorge him, and he would be allowed to go\nupon his way again.\n\nOne man always rode beside Baron Conrad in his expeditions and\nadventures a short, deep-chested, broad-shouldered man, with sinewy arms\nso long that when he stood his hands hung nearly to his knees.\n\nHis coarse, close-clipped hair came so low upon his brow that only a\nstrip of forehead showed between it and his bushy, black eyebrows. One\neye was blind; the other twinkled and gleamed like a spark under the\npenthouse of his brows. Many folk said that the one-eyed Hans had drunk\nbeer with the Hill-man, who had given him the strength of ten, for he\ncould bend an iron spit like a hazel twig, and could lift a barrel of\nwine from the floor to his head as easily as though it were a basket of\neggs.\n\nAs for the one-eyed Hans he never said that he had not drunk beer with\nthe Hill-man, for he liked the credit that such reports gave him with\nthe other folk. And so, like a half savage mastiff, faithful to death\nto his master, but to him alone, he went his sullen way and lived his\nsullen life within the castle walls, half respected, half feared by the\nother inmates, for it was dangerous trifling with the one-eyed Hans.\n\n\n\n\nII. How the Baron went Forth to Shear.\n\nBaron Conrad and Baroness Matilda sat together at their morning meal\nbelow their raised seats stretched the long, heavy wooden table, loaded\nwith coarse food--black bread, boiled cabbage, bacon, eggs, a great\nchine from a wild boar, sausages, such as we eat nowadays, and flagons\nand jars of beer and wine, Along the board sat ranged in the order of\nthe household the followers and retainers. Four or five slatternly women\nand girls served the others as they fed noisily at the table, moving\nhere and there behind the men with wooden or pewter dishes of food, now\nand then laughing at the jests that passed or joining in the talk. A\nhuge fire blazed and crackled and roared in the great open fireplace,\nbefore which were stretched two fierce, shaggy, wolfish-looking hounds.\nOutside, the rain beat upon the roof or ran trickling from the eaves,\nand every now and then a chill draught of wind would breathe through the\nopen windows of the great black dining-hall and set the fire roaring.\n\nAlong the dull-gray wall of stone hung pieces of armor, and swords and\nlances, and great branching antlers of the stag. Overhead arched the\nrude, heavy, oaken beams, blackened with age and smoke, and underfoot\nwas a chill pavement of stone.\n\nUpon Baron Conrad's shoulder leaned the pale, slender, yellow-haired\nBaroness, the only one in all the world with whom the fierce lord of\nDrachenhausen softened to gentleness, the only one upon whom his savage\nbrows looked kindly, and to whom his harsh voice softened with love.\n\nThe Baroness was talking to her husband in a low voice, as he looked\ndown into her pale face, with its gentle blue eyes.\n\n\"And wilt thou not, then,\" said she, \"do that one thing for me?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" he growled, in his deep voice, \"I cannot promise thee never more\nto attack the towns-people in the valley over yonder. How else could I\nlive an' I did not take from the fat town hogs to fill our own larder?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said the Baroness, \"thou couldst live as some others do, for all\ndo not rob the burgher folk as thou dost. Alas! mishap will come upon\nthee some day, and if thou shouldst be slain, what then would come of\nme?\"\n\n\"Prut,\" said the Baron, \"thy foolish fears\" But he laid his rough, hairy\nhand softly upon the Baroness' head and stroked her yellow hair.\n\n\"For my sake, Conrad,\" whispered the Baroness.\n\nA pause followed. The Baron sat looking thoughtfully down into the\nBaroness' face. A moment more, and he might have promised what she\nbesought; a moment more, and he might have been saved all the bitter\ntrouble that was to follow. But it was not to be.\n\nSuddenly a harsh sound broke the quietness of all into a confusion of\nnoises. Dong! Dong!--it was the great alarm-bell from Melchior's Tower.\n\nThe Baron started at the sound. He sat for a moment or two with his hand\nclinched upon the arm of his seat as though about to rise, then he sunk\nback into his chair again.\n\nAll the others had risen tumultuously from the table, and now stood\nlooking at him, awaiting his orders.\n\n\"For my sake, Conrad,\" said the Baroness again.\n\nDong! Dong! rang the alarm-bell. The Baron sat with his eyes bent upon\nthe floor, scowling blackly.\n\nThe Baroness took his hand in both of hers. \"For my sake,\" she pleaded,\nand the tears filled her blue eyes as she looked up at him, \"do not go\nthis time.\"\n\nFrom the courtyard without came the sound of horses' hoofs clashing\nagainst the stone pavement, and those in the hall stood watching and\nwondering at this strange delay of the Lord Baron. Just then the door\nopened and one came pushing past the rest; it was the one-eyed Hans.\nHe came straight to where the Baron sat, and, leaning over, whispered\nsomething into his master's ear.\n\n\"For my sake,\" implored the Baroness again; but the scale was turned.\nThe Baron pushed back his chair heavily and rose to his feet. \"Forward!\"\nhe roared, in a voice of thunder, and a great shout went up in answer as\nhe strode clanking down the hall and out of the open door.\n\nThe Baroness covered her face with her hands and wept.\n\n\"Never mind, little bird,\" said old Ursela, the nurse, soothingly; \"he\nwill come back to thee again as he has come back to thee before.\"\n\nBut the poor young Baroness continued weeping with her face buried in\nher hands, because he had not done that thing she had asked.\n\nA white young face framed in yellow hair looked out into the courtyard\nfrom a window above; but if Baron Conrad of Drachenhausen saw it from\nbeneath the bars of his shining helmet, he made no sign.\n\n\"Forward,\" he cried again.\n\nDown thundered the drawbridge, and away they rode with clashing hoofs\nand ringing armor through the gray shroud of drilling rain.\n\nThe day had passed and the evening had come, and the Baroness and her\nwomen sat beside a roaring fire. All were chattering and talking and\nlaughing but two--the fair young Baroness and old Ursela; the one sat\nlistening, listening, listening, the other sat with her chin resting in\nthe palm of her hand, silently watching her young mistress. The night\nwas falling gray and chill, when suddenly the clear notes of a bugle\nrang from without the castle walls. The young Baroness started, and the\nrosy light flashed up into her pale cheeks.\n\n\"Yes, good,\" said old Ursela; \"the red fox has come back to his den\nagain, and I warrant he brings a fat town goose in his mouth; now we'll\nhave fine clothes to wear, and thou another gold chain to hang about thy\npretty neck.\"\n\nThe young Baroness laughed merrily at the old woman's speech. \"This\ntime,\" said she, \"I will choose a string of pearls like that one my aunt\nused to wear, and which I had about my neck when Conrad first saw me.\"\n\nMinute after minute passed; the Baroness sat nervously playing with a\nbracelet of golden beads about her wrist. \"How long he stays,\" said she.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Ursela; \"but it is not cousin wish that holds him by the\ncoat.\"\n\nAs she spoke, a door banged in the passageway without, and the ring of\niron footsteps sounded upon the stone floor. Clank! Clank! Clank!\n\nThe Baroness rose to her feet, her face all alight. The door opened;\nthen the flush of joy faded away and the face grew white, white, white.\nOne hand clutched the back of the bench whereon she had been sitting,\nthe other hand pressed tightly against her side.\n\nIt was Hans the one-eyed who stood in the doorway, and black trouble sat\non his brow; all were looking at him waiting.\n\n\"Conrad,\" whispered the Baroness, at last. \"Where is Conrad? Where is\nyour master?\" and even her lips were white as she spoke.\n\nThe one-eyed Hans said nothing.\n\nJust then came the noise of men s voices in the corridor and the shuffle\nand scuffle of feet carrying a heavy load. Nearer and nearer they came,\nand one-eyed Hans stood aside. Six men came struggling through the\ndoorway, carrying a litter, and on the litter lay the great Baron\nConrad. The flaming torch thrust into the iron bracket against the wall\nflashed up with the draught of air from the open door, and the light\nfell upon the white face and the closed eyes, and showed upon his body\narmor a great red stain that was not the stain of rust.\n\nSuddenly Ursela cried out in a sharp, shrill voice, \"Catch her, she\nfalls!\"\n\nIt was the Baroness.\n\nThen the old crone turned fiercely upon the one-eyed Hans. \"Thou fool!\"\nshe cried, \"why didst thou bring him here? Thou hast killed thy lady!\"\n\n\"I did not know,\" said the one-eyed Hans, stupidly.\n\n\n\n\nIII. How the Baron came Home Shorn.\n\nBut Baron Conrad was not dead. For days he lay upon his hard bed, now\nmuttering incoherent words beneath his red beard, now raving fiercely\nwith the fever of his wound. But one day he woke again to the things\nabout him.\n\nHe turned his head first to the one side and then to the other; there\nsat Schwartz Carl and the one-eyed Hans. Two or three other retainers\nstood by a great window that looked out into the courtyard beneath,\njesting and laughing together in low tones, and one lay upon the heavy\noaken bench that stood along by the wall snoring in his sleep.\n\n\"Where is your lady?\" said the Baron, presently; \"and why is she not\nwith me at this time?\"\n\nThe man that lay upon the bench started up at the sound of his voice,\nand those at the window came hurrying to his bedside. But Schwartz Carl\nand the one-eyed Hans looked at one another, and neither of them spoke.\nThe Baron saw the look and in it read a certain meaning that brought\nhim to his elbow, though only to sink back upon his pillow again with a\ngroan.\n\n\"Why do you not answer me?\" said he at last, in a hollow voice; then\nto the one-eyed Hans, \"Hast no tongue, fool, that thou standest gaping\nthere like a fish? Answer me, where is thy mistress?\"\n\n\"I--I do not know,\" stammered poor Hans.\n\nFor a while the Baron lay silently looking from one face to the other,\nthen he spoke again. \"How long have I been lying here?\" said he.\n\n\"A sennight, my lord,\" said Master Rudolph, the steward, who had come\ninto the room and who now stood among the others at the bedside.\n\n\"A sennight,\" repeated the Baron, in a low voice, and then to Master\nRudolph, \"And has the Baroness been often beside me in that time?\"\nMaster Rudolph hesitated. \"Answer me,\" said the Baron, harshly.\n\n\"Not--not often,\" said Master Rudolph, hesitatingly.\n\nThe Baron lay silent for a long time. At last he passed his hands over\nhis face and held them there for a minute, then of a sudden, before\nanyone knew what he was about to do, he rose upon his elbow and then sat\nupright upon the bed. The green wound broke out afresh and a dark red\nspot grew and spread upon the linen wrappings; his face was drawn and\nhaggard with the pain of his moving, and his eyes wild and bloodshot.\nGreat drops of sweat gathered and stood upon his forehead as he sat\nthere swaying slightly from side to side.\n\n\"My shoes,\" said he, hoarsely.\n\nMaster Rudolph stepped forward. \"But, my Lord Baron,\" he began and then\nstopped short, for the Baron shot him such a look that his tongue stood\nstill in his head.\n\nHans saw that look out of his one eye. Down he dropped upon his knees\nand, fumbling under the bed, brought forth a pair of soft leathern\nshoes, which he slipped upon the Baron's feet and then laced the thongs\nabove the instep.\n\n\"Your shoulder,\" said the Baron. He rose slowly to his feet, gripping\nHans in the stress of his agony until the fellow winced again. For a\nmoment he stood as though gathering strength, then doggedly started\nforth upon that quest which he had set upon himself.\n\nAt the door he stopped for a moment as though overcome by his weakness,\nand there Master Nicholas, his cousin, met him; for the steward had sent\none of the retainers to tell the old man what the Baron was about to do.\n\n\"Thou must go back again, Conrad,\" said Master Nicholas; \"thou art not\nfit to be abroad.\"\n\nThe Baron answered him never a word, but he glared at him from out of\nhis bloodshot eyes and ground his teeth together. Then he started forth\nagain upon his way.\n\nDown the long hall he went, slowly and laboriously, the others following\nsilently behind him, then up the steep winding stairs, step by step,\nnow and then stopping to lean against the wall. So he reached a long\nand gloomy passageway lit only by the light of a little window at the\nfurther end.\n\nHe stopped at the door of one of the rooms that opened into this\npassage-way, stood for a moment, then he pushed it open.\n\nNo one was within but old Ursela, who sat crooning over a fire with a\nbundle upon her knees. She did not see the Baron or know that he was\nthere.\n\n\"Where is your lady?\" said he, in a hollow voice.\n\nThen the old nurse looked up with a start. \"Jesu bless us,\" cried she,\nand crossed herself.\n\n\"Where is your lady?\" said the Baron again, in the same hoarse voice;\nand then, not waiting for an answer, \"Is she dead?\"\n\nThe old woman looked at him for a minute blinking her watery eyes, and\nthen suddenly broke into a shrill, long-drawn wail. The Baron needed to\nhear no more.\n\nAs though in answer to the old woman's cry, a thin piping complaint came\nfrom the bundle in her lap.\n\nAt the sound the red blood flashed up into the Baron's face. \"What\nis that you have there?\" said he, pointing to the bundle upon the old\nwoman's knees.\n\nShe drew back the coverings and there lay a poor, weak, little baby,\nthat once again raised its faint reedy pipe.\n\n\"It is your son,\" said Ursela, \"that the dear Baroness left behind her\nwhen the holy angels took her to Paradise. She blessed him and called\nhim Otto before she left us.\"\n\n\n\n\nIV. The White Cross on the Hill.\n\nHere the glassy waters of the River Rhine, holding upon its bosom a\nmimic picture of the blue sky and white clouds floating above, runs\nsmoothly around a jutting point of land, St. Michaelsburg, rising from\nthe reedy banks of the stream, sweeps up with a smooth swell until\nit cuts sharp and clear against the sky. Stubby vineyards covered its\nearthy breast, and field and garden and orchard crowned its brow, where\nlay the Monastery of St. Michaelsburg--\"The White Cross on the Hill.\"\nThere within the white walls, where the warm yellow sunlight slept, all\nwas peaceful quietness, broken only now and then by the crowing of\nthe cock or the clamorous cackle of a hen, the lowing of kine or the\nbleating of goats, a solitary voice in prayer, the faint accord of\ndistant singing, or the resonant toll of the monastery bell from the\nhigh-peaked belfry that overlooked the hill and valley and the smooth,\nfar-winding stream. No other sounds broke the stillness, for in this\npeaceful haven was never heard the clash of armor, the ring of iron-shod\nhoofs, or the hoarse call to arms.\n\nAll men were not wicked and cruel and fierce in that dark, far-away age;\nall were not robbers and terror-spreading tyrants, even in that time\nwhen men's hands were against their neighbors, and war and rapine dwelt\nin place of peace and justice.\n\nAbbot Otto, of St. Michaelsburg, was a gentle, patient, pale-faced old\nman; his white hands were soft and smooth, and no one would have thought\nthat they could have known the harsh touch of sword-hilt and lance. And\nyet, in the days of the Emperor Frederick--the grandson of the great\nRed-beard--no one stood higher in the prowess of arms than he. But all\nat once--for why, no man could tell--a change came over him, and in the\nflower of his youth and fame and growing power he gave up everything\nin life and entered the quiet sanctuary of that white monastery on the\nhill-side, so far away from the tumult and the conflict of the world in\nwhich he had lived.\n\nSome said that it was because the lady he had loved had loved his\nbrother, and that when they were married Otto of Wolbergen had left the\nchurch with a broken heart.\n\nBut such stories are old songs that have been sung before.\n\nClatter! clatter! Jingle! jingle! It was a full-armed knight that came\nriding up the steep hill road that wound from left to right and right to\nleft amid the vineyards on the slopes of St. Michaelsburg. Polished helm\nand corselet blazed in the noon sunlight, for no knight in those days\ndared to ride the roads except in full armor. In front of him the\nsolitary knight carried a bundle wrapped in the folds of his coarse gray\ncloak.\n\nIt was a sorely sick man that rode up the heights of St. Michaelsburg.\nHis head hung upon his breast through the faintness of weariness and\npain; for it was the Baron Conrad.\n\nHe had left his bed of sickness that morning, had saddled his horse in\nthe gray dawn with his own hands, and had ridden away into the misty\ntwilight of the forest without the knowledge of anyone excepting the\nporter, who, winking and blinking in the bewilderment of his broken\nslumber, had opened the gates to the sick man, hardly knowing what he\nwas doing, until he beheld his master far away, clattering down the\nsteep bridle-path.\n\nEight leagues had he ridden that day with neither a stop nor a stay; but\nnow at last the end of his journey had come, and he drew rein under the\nshade of the great wooden gateway of St. Michaelsburg.\n\nHe reached up to the knotted rope and gave it a pull, and from within\nsounded the answering ring of the porter's bell. By and by a little\nwicket opened in the great wooden portals, and the gentle, wrinkled face\nof old Brother Benedict, the porter, peeped out at the strange iron-clad\nvisitor and the great black war-horse, streaked and wet with the sweat\nof the journey, flecked and dappled with flakes of foam. A few words\npassed between them, and then the little window was closed again; and\nwithin, the shuffling pat of the sandalled feet sounded fainter and\nfainter, as Brother Benedict bore the message from Baron Conrad to Abbot\nOtto, and the mail-clad figure was left alone, sitting there as silent\nas a statue.\n\nBy and by the footsteps sounded again; there came a noise of clattering\nchains and the rattle of the key in the lock, and the rasping of the\nbolts dragged back. Then the gate swung slowly open, and Baron Conrad\nrode into the shelter of the White Cross, and as the hoofs of his\nwar-horse clashed upon the stones of the courtyard within, the wooden\ngate swung slowly to behind him.\n\nAbbot Otto stood by the table when Baron Conrad entered the high-vaulted\nroom from the farther end. The light from the oriel window behind the\nold man shed broken rays of light upon him, and seemed to frame his thin\ngray hairs with a golden glory. His white, delicate hand rested upon the\ntable beside him, and upon some sheets of parchment covered with rows of\nancient Greek writing which he had been engaged in deciphering.\n\nClank! clank! clank! Baron Conrad strode across the stone floor, and\nthen stopped short in front of the good old man.\n\n\"What dost thou seek here, my son?\" said the Abbot.\n\n\"I seek sanctuary for my son and thy brother's grandson,\" said the Baron\nConrad, and he flung back the folds of his cloak and showed the face of\nthe sleeping babe.\n\nFor a while the Abbot said nothing, but stood gazing dreamily at\nthe baby. After a while he looked up. \"And the child's mother,\" said\nhe--\"what hath she to say at this?\"\n\n\"She hath naught to say,\" said Baron Conrad, hoarsely, and then stopped\nshort in his speech. \"She is dead,\" said he, at last, in a husky voice,\n\"and is with God's angels in paradise.\"\n\nThe Abbot looked intently in the Baron's face. \"So!\" said he, under his\nbreath, and then for the first time noticed how white and drawn was the\nBaron's face. \"Art sick thyself?\" he asked.\n\n\"Ay,\" said the Baron, \"I have come from death's door. But that is no\nmatter. Wilt thou take this little babe into sanctuary? My house is a\nvile, rough place, and not fit for such as he, and his mother with the\nblessed saints in heaven.\" And once more Conrad of Drachenhausen's face\nbegan twitching with the pain of his thoughts.\n\n\"Yes,\" said the old man, gently, \"he shall live here,\" and he stretched\nout his hands and took the babe. \"Would,\" said he, \"that all the little\nchildren in these dark times might be thus brought to the house of God,\nand there learn mercy and peace, instead of rapine and war.\"\n\nFor a while he stood looking down in silence at the baby in his arms,\nbut with his mind far away upon other things. At last he roused himself\nwith a start. \"And thou,\" said he to the Baron Conrad--\"hath not thy\nheart been chastened and softened by this? Surely thou wilt not go back\nto thy old life of rapine and extortion?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Baron Conrad, gruffly, \"I will rob the city swine no longer,\nfor that was the last thing that my dear one asked of me.\"\n\nThe old Abbot's face lit up with a smile. \"I am right glad that thy\nheart was softened, and that thou art willing at last to cease from war\nand violence.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" cried the Baron, roughly, \"I said nothing of ceasing from war. By\nheaven, no! I will have revenge!\" And he clashed his iron foot upon the\nfloor and clinched his fists and ground his teeth together. \"Listen,\"\nsaid he, \"and I will tell thee how my troubles happened. A fortnight ago\nI rode out upon an expedition against a caravan of fat burghers in the\nvalley of Gruenhoffen. They outnumbered us many to one, but city swine\nsuch as they are not of the stuff to stand against our kind for a long\ntime. Nevertheless, while the men-at-arms who guarded the caravan were\nstaying us with pike and cross-bow from behind a tree which they had\nfelled in front of a high bridge the others had driven the pack-horses\noff, so that by the time we had forced the bridge they were a league\nor more away. We pushed after them as hard as we were able, but when we\ncame up with them we found that they had been joined by Baron Frederick\nof Trutz-Drachen, to whom for three years and more the burghers of\nGruenstadt have been paying a tribute for his protection against others.\nThen again they made a stand, and this time the Baron Frederick himself\nwas with them. But though the dogs fought well, we were forcing them\nback, and might have got the better of them, had not my horse stumbled\nupon a sloping stone, and so fell and rolled over upon me. While I lay\nthere with my horse upon me, Baron Frederick ran me down with his lance,\nand gave me that foul wound that came so near to slaying me--and did\nslay my dear wife. Nevertheless, my men were able to bring me out from\nthat press and away, and we had bitten the Trutz-Drachen dogs so deep\nthat they were too sore to follow us, and so let us go our way in peace.\nBut when those fools of mine brought me to my castle they bore me lying\nupon a litter to my wife's chamber. There she beheld me, and, thinking\nme dead, swooned a death-swoon, so that she only lived long enough to\nbless her new-born babe and name it Otto, for you, her father's brother.\nBut, by heavens! I will have revenge, root and branch, upon that vile\ntribe, the Roderburgs of Trutz-Drachen. Their great-grandsire built that\ncastle in scorn of Baron Casper in the old days; their grandsire slew my\nfather's grandsire; Baron Nicholas slew two of our kindred; and now this\nBaron Frederick gives me that foul wound and kills my dear wife through\nmy body.\" Here the Baron stopped short; then of a sudden, shaking his\nfist above his head, he cried out in his hoarse voice: \"I swear by all\nthe saints in heaven, either the red cock shall crow over the roof of\nTrutz-Drachen or else it shall crow over my house! The black dog shall\nsit on Baron Frederick's shoulders or else he shall sit on mine!\" Again\nhe stopped, and fixing his blazing eyes upon the old man, \"Hearest thou\nthat, priest?\" said he, and broke into a great boisterous laugh.\n\nAbbot Otto sighed heavily, but he tried no further to persuade the other\ninto different thoughts.\n\n\"Thou art wounded,\" said he, at last, in a gentle voice; \"at least stay\nhere with us until thou art healed.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said the Baron, roughly, \"I will tarry no longer than to hear\nthee promise to care for my child.\"\n\n\"I promise,\" said the Abbot; \"but lay aside thy armor, and rest.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said the Baron, \"I go back again to-day.\"\n\nAt this the Abbot cried out in amazement: \"Sure thou, wounded man, would\nnot take that long journey without a due stay for resting! Think! Night\nwill be upon thee before thou canst reach home again, and the forests\nare beset with wolves.\"\n\nThe Baron laughed. \"Those are not the wolves I fear,\" said he. \"Urge me\nno further, I must return to-night; yet if thou hast a mind to do me a\nkindness thou canst give me some food to eat and a flask of your golden\nMichaelsburg; beyond these, I ask no further favor of any man, be he\npriest or layman.\"\n\n\"What comfort I can give thee thou shalt have,\" said the Abbot, in his\npatient voice, and so left the room to give the needful orders, bearing\nthe babe with him.\n\n\n\n\nV. How Otto Dwelt at St. Michaelsburg.\n\nSo the poor, little, motherless waif lived among the old monks at the\nWhite Cross on the hill, thriving and growing apace until he had reached\neleven or twelve years of age; a slender, fair-haired little fellow,\nwith a strange, quiet serious manner.\n\n\"Poor little child!\" Old Brother Benedict would sometimes say to the\nothers, \"poor little child! The troubles in which he was born must have\nbroken his wits like a glass cup. What think ye he said to me to-day?\n'Dear Brother Benedict,' said he, 'dost thou shave the hair off of the\ntop of thy head so that the dear God may see thy thoughts the better?'\nThink of that now!\" and the good old man shook with silent laughter.\n\nWhen such talk came to the good Father Abbot's ears, he smiled quietly\nto himself. \"It may be,\" said he, \"that the wisdom of little children\nflies higher than our heavy wits can follow.\"\n\nAt least Otto was not slow with his studies, and Brother Emmanuel,\nwho taught him his lessons, said more than once that, if his wits were\ncracked in other ways, they were sound enough in Latin.\n\nOtto, in a quaint, simple way which belonged to him, was gentle\nand obedient to all. But there was one among the Brethren of St.\nMichaelsburg whom he loved far above all the rest--Brother John, a poor\nhalf-witted fellow, of some twenty-five or thirty years of age. When\na very little child, he had fallen from his nurse's arms and hurt his\nhead, and as he grew up into boyhood, and showed that his wits had been\naddled by his fall, his family knew not what else to do with him, and\nso sent him off to the Monastery of St. Michaelsburg, where he lived\nhis simple, witless life upon a sort of sufferance, as though he were a\ntame, harmless animal.\n\nWhile Otto was still a little baby, he had been given into Brother\nJohn's care. Thereafter, and until Otto had grown old enough to care for\nhimself, poor Brother John never left his little charge, night or day.\nOftentimes the good Father Abbot, coming into the garden, where he loved\nto walk alone in his meditations, would find the poor, simple Brother\nsitting under the shade of the pear-tree, close to the bee-hives,\nrocking the little baby in his arms, singing strange, crazy songs to\nit, and gazing far away into the blue, empty sky with his curious, pale\neyes.\n\nAlthough, as Otto grew up into boyhood, his lessons and his tasks\nseparated him from Brother John, the bond between them seemed to grow\nstronger rather than weaker. During the hours that Otto had for his own\nthey were scarcely ever apart. Down in the vineyard, where the monks\nwere gathering the grapes for the vintage, in the garden, or in the\nfields, the two were always seen together, either wandering hand in\nhand, or seated in some shady nook or corner.\n\nBut most of all they loved to lie up in the airy wooden belfry; the\ngreat gaping bell hanging darkly above them, the mouldering cross-beams\nglimmering far up under the dim shadows of the roof, where dwelt a great\nbrown owl that, unfrightened at their familiar presence, stared down at\nthem with his round, solemn eyes. Below them stretched the white walls\nof the garden, beyond them the vineyard, and beyond that again the far\nshining river, that seemed to Otto's mind to lead into wonder-land.\nThere the two would lie upon the belfry floor by the hour, talking\ntogether of the strangest things.\n\n\"I saw the dear Angel Gabriel again yester morn,\" said Brother John.\n\n\"So!\" says Otto, seriously; \"and where was that?\"\n\n\"It was out in the garden, in the old apple-tree,\" said Brother John. \"I\nwas walking there, and my wits were running around in the grass like a\nmouse. What heard I but a wonderful sound of singing, and it was like\nthe hum of a great bee, only sweeter than honey. So I looked up into the\ntree, and there I saw two sparks. I thought at first that they were\ntwo stars that had fallen out of heaven; but what think you they were,\nlittle child?\"\n\n\"I do not know,\" said Otto, breathlessly.\n\n\"They were angel's eyes,\" said Brother John; and he smiled in the\nstrangest way, as he gazed up into the blue sky. \"So I looked at the two\nsparks and felt happy, as one does in spring time when the cold weather\nis gone, and the warm sun shines, and the cuckoo sings again. Then,\nby-and-by, I saw the face to which the eyes belonged. First, it shone\nwhite and thin like the moon in the daylight; but it grew brighter and\nbrighter, until it hurt one's eyes to look at it, as though it had been\nthe blessed sun itself. Angel Gabriel's hand was as white as silver, and\nin it he held a green bough with blossoms, like those that grow on the\nthorn bush. As for his robe, it was all of one piece, and finer than the\nFather Abbot's linen, and shone beside like the sunlight on pure snow.\nSo I knew from all these things that it was the blessed Angel Gabriel.\"\n\n\"What do they say about this tree, Brother John?\" said he to me.\n\n\"They say it is dying, my Lord Angel,\" said I, \"and that the gardener\nwill bring a sharp axe and cut it down.\"\n\n\"'And what dost thou say about it, Brother John?' said he.\"\n\n\"'I also say yes, and that it is dying,' said I.\"\n\n\"At that he smiled until his face shone so bright that I had to shut my\neyes.\"\n\n\"'Now I begin to believe, Brother John, that thou art as foolish as men\nsay,' said he. 'Look, till I show thee.' And thereat I opened mine eyes\nagain.\"\n\n\"Then Angel Gabriel touched the dead branches with the flowery twig that\nhe held in his hand, and there was the dead wood all covered with green\nleaves, and fair blossoms and beautiful apples as yellow as gold. Each\nsmelling more sweetly than a garden of flowers, and better to the taste\nthan white bread and honey.\n\n\"'They are souls of the apples,' said the good Angel,' and they can\nnever wither and die.'\n\n\"'Then I'll tell the gardener that he shall not cut the tree down,' said\nI.\"\n\n\"'No, no,' said the dear Gabriel, 'that will never do, for if the tree\nis not cut down here on the earth, it can never be planted in paradise.'\"\n\nHere Brother John stopped short in his story, and began singing one of\nhis crazy songs, as he gazed with his pale eyes far away into nothing at\nall.\n\n\"But tell me, Brother John,\" said little Otto, in a hushed voice, \"what\nelse did the good Angel say to thee?\"\n\nBrother John stopped short in his song and began looking from right to\nleft, and up and down, as though to gather his wits.\n\n\"So!\" said he, \"there was something else that he told me. Tschk! If I\ncould but think now. Yes, good! This is it--'Nothing that has lived,'\nsaid he, 'shall ever die, and nothing that has died shall ever live.'\"\n\nOtto drew a deep breath. \"I would that I might see the beautiful Angel\nGabriel sometime,\" said he; but Brother John was singing again and did\nnot seem to hear what he said.\n\nNext to Brother John, the nearest one to the little child was the good\nAbbot Otto, for though he had never seen wonderful things with the eyes\nof his soul, such as Brother John's had beheld, and so could not tell of\nthem, he was yet able to give little Otto another pleasure that no one\nelse could give.\n\nHe was a great lover of books, the old Abbot, and had under lock and key\nwonderful and beautiful volumes, bound in hog-skin and metal, and with\ncovers inlaid with carved ivory, or studded with precious stones. But\nwithin these covers, beautiful as they were, lay the real wonder of the\nbooks, like the soul in the body; for there, beside the black letters\nand initials, gay with red and blue and gold, were beautiful pictures\npainted upon the creamy parchment. Saints and Angels, the Blessed Virgin\nwith the golden oriole about her head, good St. Joseph, the three Kings;\nthe simple Shepherds kneeling in the fields, while Angels with glories\nabout their brow called to the poor Peasants from the blue sky above.\nBut, most beautiful of all was the picture of the Christ Child lying in\nthe manger, with the mild-eyed Kine gazing at him.\n\nSometimes the old Abbot would unlock the iron-bound chest where these\ntreasures lay hidden, and carefully and lovingly brushing the few grains\nof dust from them, would lay them upon the table beside the oriel window\nin front of his little namesake, allowing the little boy freedom to turn\nthe leaves as he chose.\n\nAlways it was one picture that little Otto sought; the Christ Child in\nthe manger, with the Virgin, St. Joseph, the Shepherds, and the Kine.\nAnd as he would hang breathlessly gazing and gazing upon it, the old\nAbbot would sit watching him with a faint, half-sad smile flickering\naround his thin lips and his pale, narrow face.\n\nIt was a pleasant, peaceful life, but by-and-by the end came. Otto was\nnow nearly twelve years old.\n\nOne bright, clear day, near the hour of noon, little Otto heard the\nporter's bell sounding below in the court-yard--dong! dong! Brother\nEmmanuel had been appointed as the boy's instructor, and just then Otto\nwas conning his lessons in the good monk's cell. Nevertheless, at the\nsound of the bell he pricked up his ears and listened, for a visitor was\na strange matter in that out-of-the-way place, and he wondered who it\ncould be. So, while his wits wandered his lessons lagged.\n\n\"Postera Phoeba lustrabat lampade terras,\" continued Brother Emmanuel,\ninexorably running his horny finger-nail beneath the line, \"humentemque\nAurora polo dimoverat umbram--\" the lesson dragged along.\n\nJust then a sandaled footstep sounded without, in the stone corridor,\nand a light tap fell upon Brother Emmanuel's door. It was Brother\nIgnatius, and the Abbot wished little Otto to come to the refectory.\n\nAs they crossed the court-yard Otto stared to see a group of mail-clad\nmen-at-arms, some sitting upon their horses, some standing by the\nsaddle-bow. \"Yonder is the young baron,\" he heard one of them say in a\ngruff voice, and thereupon all turned and stared at him.\n\nA stranger was in the refectory, standing beside the good old Abbot,\nwhile food and wine were being brought and set upon the table for his\nrefreshment; a great, tall, broad-shouldered man, beside whom the Abbot\nlooked thinner and slighter than ever.\n\nThe stranger was clad all in polished and gleaming armor, of plate and\nchain, over which was drawn a loose robe of gray woollen stuff, reaching\nto the knees and bound about the waist by a broad leathern sword-belt.\nUpon his arm he carried a great helmet which he had just removed from\nhis head. His face was weather-beaten and rugged, and on lip and chin\nwas a wiry, bristling beard; once red, now frosted with white.\n\nBrother Ignatius had bidden Otto to enter, and had then closed the door\nbehind him; and now, as the lad walked slowly up the long room, he gazed\nwith round, wondering blue eyes at the stranger.\n\n\"Dost know who I am, Otto? said the mail-clad knight, in a deep,\ngrowling voice.\n\n\"Methinks you are my father, sir,\" said Otto.\n\n\"Aye, thou art right,\" said Baron Conrad, \"and I am glad to see that\nthese milk-churning monks have not allowed thee to forget me, and who\nthou art thyself.\"\n\n\"An' it please you,\" said Otto, \"no one churneth milk here but\nBrother Fritz; we be makers of wine and not makers of butter, at St.\nMichaelsburg.\"\n\nBaron Conrad broke into a great, loud laugh, but Abbot Otto's sad and\nthoughtful face lit up with no shadow of an answering smile.\n\n\"Conrad,\" said he, turning to the other, \"again let me urge thee; do\nnot take the child hence, his life can never be your life, for he is not\nfitted for it. I had thought,\" said he, after a moment's pause, \"I had\nthought that thou hadst meant to consecrate him--this motherless one--to\nthe care of the Universal Mother Church.\"\n\n\"So!\" said the Baron, \"thou hadst thought that, hadst thou? Thou hadst\nthought that I had intended to deliver over this boy, the last of the\nVuelphs, to the arms of the Church? What then was to become of our name\nand the glory of our race if it was to end with him in a monastery? No,\nDrachenhausen is the home of the Vuelphs, and there the last of the race\nshall live as his sires have lived before him, holding to his rights by\nthe power and the might of his right hand.\"\n\nThe Abbot turned and looked at the boy, who was gaping in simple\nwide-eyed wonderment from one to the other as they spoke.\n\n\"And dost thou think, Conrad,\" said the old man, in his gentle, patient\nvoice, \"that that poor child can maintain his rights by the strength of\nhis right hand?\"\n\nThe Baron's look followed the Abbot's, and he said nothing.\n\nIn the few seconds of silence that followed, little Otto, in his simple\nmind, was wondering what all this talk portended. Why had his father\ncome hither to St. Michaelsburg, lighting up the dim silence of the\nmonastery with the flash and ring of his polished armor? Why had he\ntalked about churning butter but now, when all the world knew that the\nmonks of St. Michaelsburg made wine.\n\nIt was Baron Conrad's deep voice that broke the little pause of silence.\n\n\"If you have made a milkmaid of the boy,\" he burst out at last, \"I thank\nthe dear heaven that there is yet time to undo your work and to make a\nman of him.\"\n\nThe Abbot sighed. \"The child is yours, Conrad,\" said he, \"the will of\nthe blessed saints be done. Mayhap if he goes to dwell at Drachenhausen\nhe may make you the better instead of you making him the worse.\"\n\nThen light came to the darkness of little Otto's wonderment; he saw what\nall this talk meant and why his father had come hither. He was to leave\nthe happy, sunny silence of the dear White Cross, and to go out into\nthat great world that he had so often looked down upon from the high\nwindy belfry on the steep hillside.\n\n\n\n\nVI. How Otto Lived in the Dragon's House.\n\nThe gates of the Monastery stood wide open, the world lay beyond, and\nall was ready for departure. Baron Conrad and his men-at-arms sat foot\nin stirrup, the milk-white horse that had been brought for Otto stood\nwaiting for him beside his father's great charger.\n\n\"Farewell, Otto,\" said the good old Abbot, as he stooped and kissed the\nboy's cheek.\n\n\"Farewell,\" answered Otto, in his simple, quiet way, and it brought\na pang to the old man's heart that the child should seem to grieve so\nlittle at the leave-taking.\n\n\"Farewell, Otto,\" said the brethren that stood about, \"farewell,\nfarewell.\"\n\nThen poor brother John came forward and took the boy's hand, and looked\nup into his face as he sat upon his horse. \"We will meet again,\" said\nhe, with his strange, vacant smile, \"but maybe it will be in Paradise,\nand there perhaps they will let us lie in the father's belfry, and look\ndown upon the angels in the court-yard below.\"\n\n\"Aye,\" answered Otto, with an answering smile.\n\n\"Forward,\" cried the Baron, in a deep voice, and with a clash of hoofs\nand jingle of armor they were gone, and the great wooden gates were shut\nto behind them.\n\nDown the steep winding pathway they rode, and out into the great wide\nworld beyond, upon which Otto and brother John had gazed so often from\nthe wooden belfry of the White Cross on the hill.\n\n\"Hast been taught to ride a horse by the priests up yonder on\nMichaelsburg?\" asked the Baron, when they had reached the level road.\n\n\"Nay,\" said Otto; \"we had no horse to ride, but only to bring in the\nharvest or the grapes from the further vineyards to the vintage.\"\n\n\"Prut,\" said the Baron, \"methought the abbot would have had enough of\nthe blood of old days in his veins to have taught thee what is fitting\nfor a knight to know; art not afeared?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Otto, with a smile, \"I am not afeared.\"\n\n\"There at least thou showest thyself a Vuelph,\" said the grim Baron. But\nperhaps Otto's thought of fear and Baron Conrad's thought of fear were\ntwo very different matters.\n\nThe afternoon had passed by the time they had reached the end of their\njourney. Up the steep, stony path they rode to the drawbridge and\nthe great gaping gateway of Drachenhausen, where wall and tower and\nbattlement looked darker and more forbidding than ever in the gray\ntwilight of the coming night. Little Otto looked up with great,\nwondering, awe-struck eyes at this grim new home of his.\n\nThe next moment they clattered over the drawbridge that spanned the\nnarrow black gulph between the roadway and the wall, and the next were\npast the echoing arch of the great gateway and in the gray gloaming of\nthe paved court-yard within.\n\nOtto looked around upon the many faces gathered there to catch the\nfirst sight of the little baron; hard, rugged faces, seamed and\nweather-beaten; very different from those of the gentle brethren among\nwhom he had lived, and it seemed strange to him that there was none\nthere whom he should know.\n\nAs he climbed the steep, stony steps to the door of the Baron's house,\nold Ursela came running down to meet him. She flung her withered arms\naround him and hugged him close to her. \"My little child,\" she cried,\nand then fell to sobbing as though her heart would break.\n\n\"Here is someone knoweth me,\" thought the little boy.\n\nHis new home was all very strange and wonderful to Otto; the armors, the\ntrophies, the flags, the long galleries with their ranges of rooms,\nthe great hall below with its vaulted roof and its great fireplace of\ngrotesquely carved stone, and all the strange people with their lives\nand thoughts so different from what he had been used to know.\n\nAnd it was a wonderful thing to explore all the strange places in the\ndark old castle; places where it seemed to Otto no one could have ever\nbeen before.\n\nOnce he wandered down a long, dark passageway below the hall, pushed\nopen a narrow, iron-bound oaken door, and found himself all at once in\na strange new land; the gray light, coming in through a range of tall,\nnarrow windows, fell upon a row of silent, motionless figures carven in\nstone, knights and ladies in strange armor and dress; each lying upon\nhis or her stony couch with clasped hands, and gazing with fixed,\nmotionless, stony eyeballs up into the gloomy, vaulted arch above them.\nThere lay, in a cold, silent row, all of the Vuelphs who had died since\nthe ancient castle had been built.\n\nIt was the chapel into which Otto had made his way, now long since\nfallen out of use excepting as a burial place of the race.\n\nAt another time he clambered up into the loft under the high peaked\nroof, where lay numberless forgotten things covered with the dim dust\nof years. There a flock of pigeons had made their roost, and flapped\nnoisily out into the sunlight when he pushed open the door from below.\nHere he hunted among the mouldering things of the past until, oh, joy\nof joys! in an ancient oaken chest he found a great lot of worm-eaten\nbooks, that had belonged to some old chaplain of the castle in days gone\nby. They were not precious and beautiful volumes, such as the Father\nAbbot had showed him, but all the same they had their quaint painted\npictures of the blessed saints and angels.\n\nAgain, at another time, going into the court-yard, Otto had found\nthe door of Melchior's tower standing invitingly open, for old Hilda,\nSchwartz Carl's wife, had come down below upon some business or other.\n\nThen upon the shaky wooden steps Otto ran without waiting for a second\nthought, for he had often gazed at those curious buildings hanging so\nfar up in the air, and had wondered what they were like. Round and round\nand up and up Otto climbed, until his head spun. At last he reached\na landing-stage, and gazing over the edge and down, beheld the stone\npavement far, far below, lit by a faint glimmer of light that entered\nthrough the arched doorway. Otto clutched tight hold of the wooden rail,\nhe had no thought that he had climbed so far.\n\nUpon the other side of the landing was a window that pierced the thick\nstone walls of the tower; out of the window he looked, and then drew\nsuddenly back again with a gasp, for it was through the outer wall he\npeered, and down, down below in the dizzy depths he saw the hard\ngray rocks, where the black swine, looking no larger than ants in the\ndistance, fed upon the refuse thrown out over the walls of the castle.\nThere lay the moving tree-tops like a billowy green sea, and the coarse\nthatched roofs of the peasant cottages, round which crawled the little\nchildren like tiny human specks.\n\nThen Otto turned and crept down the stairs, frightened at the height to\nwhich he had climbed.\n\nAt the doorway he met Mother Hilda. \"Bless us,\" she cried, starting back\nand crossing herself, and then, seeing who it was, ducked him a courtesy\nwith as pleasant a smile as her forbidding face, with its little\ndeep-set eyes, was able to put upon itself.\n\nOld Ursela seemed nearer to the boy than anyone else about the castle,\nexcepting it was his father, and it was a newfound delight to Otto to\nsit beside her and listen to her quaint stories, so different from the\nmonkish tales that he had heard and read at the monastery.\n\nBut one day it was a tale of a different sort that she told him, and one\nthat opened his eyes to what he had never dreamed of before.\n\nThe mellow sunlight fell through the window upon old Ursela, as she sat\nin the warmth with her distaff in her hands while Otto lay close to her\nfeet upon a bear skin, silently thinking over the strange story of a\nbrave knight and a fiery dragon that she had just told him. Suddenly\nUrsela broke the silence.\n\n\"Little one,\" said she, \"thou art wondrously like thy own dear mother;\ndidst ever hear how she died?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Otto, \"but tell me, Ursela, how it was.\"\n\n\"Tis strange,\" said the old woman, \"that no one should have told thee\nin all this time.\" And then, in her own fashion she related to him the\nstory of how his father had set forth upon that expedition in spite of\nall that Otto's mother had said, beseeching him to abide at home; how he\nhad been foully wounded, and how the poor lady had died from her fright\nand grief.\n\nOtto listened with eyes that grew wider and wider, though not all with\nwonder; he no longer lay upon the bear skin, but sat up with his hands\nclasped. For a moment or two after the old woman had ended her story, he\nsat staring silently at her. Then he cried out, in a sharp voice, \"And\nis this truth that you tell me, Ursela? and did my father seek to rob\nthe towns people of their goods?\"\n\nOld Ursela laughed. \"Aye,\" said she, \"that he did and many times. Ah!\nme, those day's are all gone now.\" And she fetched a deep sigh. \"Then we\nlived in plenty and had both silks and linens and velvets besides in the\nstore closets and were able to buy good wines and live in plenty upon\nthe best. Now we dress in frieze and live upon what we can get and\nsometimes that is little enough, with nothing better than sour beer to\ndrink. But there is one comfort in it all, and that is that our good\nBaron paid back the score he owed the Trutz-Drachen people not only for\nthat, but for all that they had done from the very first.\"\n\nThereupon she went on to tell Otto how Baron Conrad had fulfilled the\npledge of revenge that he had made Abbot Otto, how he had watched day\nafter day until one time he had caught the Trutz-Drachen folk,\nwith Baron Frederick at their head, in a narrow defile back of the\nKaiserburg; of the fierce fight that was there fought; of how the\nRoderburgs at last fled, leaving Baron Frederick behind them wounded; of\nhow he had kneeled before the Baron Conrad, asking for mercy, and of\nhow Baron Conrad had answered, \"Aye, thou shalt have such mercy as thou\ndeservest,\" and had therewith raised his great two-handed sword and laid\nhis kneeling enemy dead at one blow.\n\nPoor little Otto had never dreamed that such cruelty and wickedness\ncould be. He listened to the old woman's story with gaping horror, and\nwhen the last came and she told him, with a smack of her lips, how his\nfather had killed his enemy with his own hand, he gave a gasping cry and\nsprang to his feet. Just then the door at the other end of the chamber\nwas noisily opened, and Baron Conrad himself strode into the room.\nOtto turned his head, and seeing who it was, gave another cry, loud and\nquavering, and ran to his father and caught him by the hand.\n\n\"Oh, father!\" he cried, \"oh, father! Is it true that thou hast killed a\nman with thy own hand?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said the Baron, grimly, \"it is true enough, and I think me I have\nkilled many more than one. But what of that, Otto? Thou must get out of\nthose foolish notions that the old monks have taught thee. Here in the\nworld it is different from what it is at St. Michaelsburg; here a man\nmust either slay or be slain.\"\n\nBut poor little Otto, with his face hidden in his father's robe, cried\nas though his heart would break. \"Oh, father!\" he said, again and again,\n\"it cannot be--it cannot be that thou who art so kind to me should have\nkilled a man with thine own hands.\" Then: \"I wish that I were back\nin the monastery again; I am afraid out here in the great wide world;\nperhaps somebody may kill me, for I am only a weak little boy and could\nnot save my own life if they chose to take it from me.\"\n\nBaron Conrad looked down upon Otto all this while, drawing his bushy\neyebrows together. Once he reached out his hand as though to stroke the\nboy's hair, but drew it back again.\n\nTurning angrily upon the old woman, \"Ursela,\" said he, \"thou must tell\nthe child no more such stories as these; he knowest not at all of such\nthings as yet. Keep thy tongue busy with the old woman's tales that he\nloves to hear thee tell, and leave it with me to teach him what becometh\na true knight and a Vuelph.\"\n\nThat night the father and son sat together beside the roaring fire in\nthe great ball. \"Tell me, Otto,\" said the Baron, \"dost thou hate me for\nhaving done what Ursela told thee today that I did?\"\n\nOtto looked for a while into his father's face. \"I know not,\" said he at\nlast, in his quaint, quiet voice, \"but methinks that I do not hate thee\nfor it.\"\n\nThe Baron drew his bushy brows together until his eyes twinkled out of\nthe depths beneath them, then of a sudden he broke into a great loud\nlaugh, smiting his horny palm with a smack upon his thigh.\n\n\n\n\nVII. The Red Cock Crows on Drachenhausen.\n\nThere was a new emperor in Germany who had come from a far away Swiss\ncastle; Count Rudolph of Hapsburg, a good, honest man with a good,\nhonest, homely face, but bringing with him a stern sense of justice and\nof right, and a determination to put down the lawlessness of the savage\nGerman barons among whom he had come as Emperor.\n\nOne day two strangers came galloping up the winding path to the gates\nof the Dragon's house. A horn sounded thin and clear, a parley was held\nacross the chasm in the road between the two strangers and the porter\nwho appeared at the little wicket. Then a messenger was sent running to\nthe Baron, who presently came striding across the open court-yard to the\ngateway to parley with the strangers.\n\nThe two bore with them a folded parchment with a great red seal\nhanging from it like a clot of blood; it was a message from the Emperor\ndemanding that the Baron should come to the Imperial Court to answer\ncertain charges that had been brought against him, and to give his bond\nto maintain the peace of the empire.\n\nOne by one those barons who had been carrying on their private wars, or\nhad been despoiling the burgher folk in their traffic from town to\ntown, and against whom complaint had been lodged, were summoned to the\nImperial Court, where they were compelled to promise peace and to swear\nallegiance to the new order of things. All those who came willingly were\nallowed to return home again after giving security for maintaining the\npeace; all those who came not willingly were either brought in chains\nor rooted out of their strongholds with fire and sword, and their roofs\nburned over their heads.\n\nNow it was Baron Conrad's turn to be summoned to the Imperial Court,\nfor complaint had been lodged against him by his old enemy of\nTrutz-Drachen--Baron Henry--the nephew of the old Baron Frederick\nwho had been slain while kneeling in the dust of the road back of the\nKaiserburg.\n\nNo one at Drachenhausen could read but Master Rudolph, the steward,\nwho was sand blind, and little Otto. So the boy read the summons to his\nfather, while the grim Baron sat silent with his chin resting upon his\nclenched fist and his eyebrows drawn together into a thoughtful frown as\nhe gazed into the pale face of his son, who sat by the rude oaken table\nwith the great parchment spread out before him.\n\nShould he answer the summons, or scorn it as he would have done under\nthe old emperors? Baron Conrad knew not which to do; pride said one\nthing and policy another. The Emperor was a man with an iron hand, and\nBaron Conrad knew what had happened to those who had refused to obey the\nimperial commands. So at last he decided that he would go to the court,\ntaking with him a suitable escort to support his dignity.\n\nIt was with nearly a hundred armed men clattering behind him that Baron\nConrad rode away to court to answer the imperial summons. The castle was\nstripped of its fighting men, and only eight remained behind to guard\nthe great stone fortress and the little simple-witted boy.\n\nIt was a sad mistake.\n\nThree days had passed since the Baron had left the castle, and now the\nthird night had come. The moon was hanging midway in the sky, white and\nfull, for it was barely past midnight.\n\nThe high precipitous banks of the rocky road threw a dense black shadow\ninto the gully below, and in that crooked inky line that scarred the\nwhite face of the moonlit rocks a band of some thirty men were creeping\nslowly and stealthily nearer and nearer to Castle Drachenhausen. At the\nhead of them was a tall, slender knight clad in light chain armor, his\nhead covered only by a steel cap or bascinet.\n\nAlong the shadow they crept, with only now and then a faint clink or\njingle of armor to break the stillness, for most of those who followed\nthe armed knight were clad in leathern jerkins; only one or two wearing\neven so much as a steel breast-plate by way of armor.\n\nSo at last they reached the chasm that yawned beneath the roadway, and\nthere they stopped, for they had reached the spot toward which they had\nbeen journeying. It was Baron Henry of Trutz-Drachen who had thus come\nin the silence of the night time to the Dragon's house, and his visit\nboded no good to those within.\n\nThe Baron and two or three of his men talked together in low tones, now\nand then looking up at the sheer wall that towered above them.\n\n\"Yonder is the place, Lord Baron,\" said one of those who stood with him.\n\"I have scanned every foot of the wall at night for a week past. An we\nget not in by that way, we get not in at all. A keen eye, a true aim,\nand a bold man are all that we need, and the business is done.\" Here\nagain all looked upward at the gray wall above them, rising up in the\nsilent night air.\n\nHigh aloft hung the wooden bartizan or watch-tower, clinging to the face\nof the outer wall and looming black against the pale sky above. Three\ngreat beams pierced the wall, and upon them the wooden tower rested. The\nmiddle beam jutted out beyond the rest to the distance of five or six\nfeet, and the end of it was carved into the rude semblance of a dragon's\nhead.\n\n\"So, good,\" said the Baron at last; \"then let us see if thy plan holds,\nand if Hans Schmidt's aim is true enough to earn the three marks that I\nhave promised him. Where is the bag?\"\n\nOne of those who stood near handed the Baron a leathern pouch, the Baron\nopened it and drew out a ball of fine thread, another of twine, a coil\nof stout rope, and a great bundle that looked, until it was unrolled,\nlike a coarse fish-net. It was a rope ladder. While these were being\nmade ready, Hans Schmidt, a thick-set, low-browed, broad-shouldered\narcher, strung his stout bow, and carefully choosing three arrows\nfrom those in his quiver, he stuck them point downward in the earth.\nUnwinding the ball of thread, he laid it loosely in large loops upon the\nground so that it might run easily without hitching, then he tied the\nend of the thread tightly around one of his arrows. He fitted the arrow\nto the bow and drew the feather to his ear. Twang! rang the bowstring,\nand the feathered messenger flew whistling upon its errand to the\nwatch-tower. The very first shaft did the work.\n\n\"Good,\" said Hans Schmidt, the archer, in his heavy voice, \"the three\nmarks are mine, Lord Baron.\"\n\nThe arrow had fallen over and across the jutting beam between the carved\ndragon's head and the bartizan, carrying with it the thread, which now\nhung from above, glimmering white in the moonlight like a cobweb.\n\nThe rest was an easy task enough. First the twine was drawn up to and\nover the beam by the thread, then the rope was drawn up by the twine,\nand last of all the rope ladder by the rope. There it hung like a thin,\nslender black line against the silent gray walls.\n\n\"And now,\" said the Baron, \"who will go first and win fifty marks for\nhis own, and climb the rope ladder to the tower yonder?\" Those around\nhesitated. \"Is there none brave enough to venture?\" said the Baron,\nafter a pause of silence.\n\nA stout, young fellow, of about eighteen years of age, stepped forward\nand flung his flat leathern cap upon the ground. \"I will go, my Lord\nBaron,\" said he.\n\n\"Good,\" said the Baron, \"the fifty marks are thine. And now listen, if\nthou findest no one in the watch-tower, whistle thus; if the watchman\nbe at his post, see that thou makest all safe before thou givest the\nsignal. When all is ready the others will follow thee. And now go and\ngood luck go with thee.\"\n\nThe young fellow spat upon his hands and, seizing the ropes, began\nslowly and carefully to mount the flimsy, shaking ladder. Those below\nheld it as tight as they were able, but nevertheless he swung backward\nand forward and round and round as he climbed steadily upward. Once he\nstopped upon the way, and those below saw him clutch the ladder close\nto him as though dizzied by the height and the motion but he soon began\nagain, up, up, up like some great black spider. Presently he came out\nfrom the black shadow below and into the white moonlight, and then his\nshadow followed him step by step up the gray wall upon his way. At last\nhe reached the jutting beam, and there again he stopped for a moment\nclutching tightly to it. The next he was upon the beam, dragging himself\ntoward the window of the bartizan just above. Slowly raising himself\nupon his narrow foothold he peeped cautiously within. Those watching\nhim from be low saw him slip his hand softly to his side, and then place\nsomething between his teeth. It was his dagger. Reaching up, he clutched\nthe window sill above him and, with a silent spring, seated himself\nupon it. The next moment he disappeared within. A few seconds of silence\nfollowed, then of sudden a sharp gurgling cry broke the stillness. There\nwas another pause of silence, then a faint shrill whistle sounded from\nabove.\n\n\"Who will go next?\" said the Baron. It was Hans Schmidt who stepped\nforward. Another followed the arch up the ladder, and another, and\nanother. Last of all went the Baron Henry himself, and nothing was left\nbut the rope ladder hanging from above, and swaying back and forth in\nthe wind.\n\nThat night Schwartz Carl had been bousing it over a pot of yellow wine\nin the pantry with his old crony, Master Rudolph, the steward; and the\ntwo, chatting and gossiping together, had passed the time away until\nlong after the rest of the castle had been wrapped in sleep. Then,\nperhaps a little unsteady upon his feet, Schwartz Carl betook himself\nhomeward to the Melchior tower.\n\nHe stood for a while in the shadow of the doorway, gazing up into the\npale sky above him at the great, bright, round moon, that hung like a\nbubble above the sharp peaks of the roofs standing black as ink against\nthe sky. But all of a sudden he started up from the post against which\nhe had been leaning, and with head bent to one side, stood listening\nbreathlessly, for he too had heard that smothered cry from the\nwatch-tower. So he stood intently, motionlessly, listening, listening;\nbut all was silent except for the monotonous dripping of water in one of\nthe nooks of the court-yard, and the distant murmur of the river borne\nupon the breath of the night air. \"Mayhap I was mistaken,\" muttered\nSchwartz Carl to himself.\n\nBut the next moment the silence was broken again by a faint, shrill\nwhistle; what did it mean?\n\nBack of the heavy oaken door of the tower was Schwartz Carl's cross-bow,\nthe portable windlass with which the bowstring was drawn back, and a\npouch of bolts. Schwartz Carl reached back into the darkness, fumbling\nin the gloom until his fingers met the weapon. Setting his foot in the\niron stirrup at the end of the stock, he wound the stout bow-string\ninto the notch of the trigger, and carefully fitted the heavy,\nmurderous-looking bolt into the groove.\n\nMinute after minute passed, and Schwartz Carl, holding his arbelast in\nhis hand, stood silently waiting and watching in the sharp-cut, black\nshadow of the doorway, motionless as a stone statue. Minute after minute\npassed. Suddenly there was a movement in the shadow of the arch of the\ngreat gateway across the court-yard, and the next moment a leathern-clad\nfigure crept noiselessly out upon the moonlit pavement, and stood there\nlistening, his head bent to one side. Schwartz Carl knew very well\nthat it was no one belonging to the castle, and, from the nature of his\naction, that he was upon no good errand.\n\nHe did not stop to challenge the suspicious stranger. The taking of\nanother's life was thought too small a matter for much thought or care\nin those days. Schwartz Carl would have shot a man for a much smaller\nreason than the suspicious actions of this fellow. The leather-clad\nfigure stood a fine target in the moonlight for a cross-bow bolt.\nSchwartz Carl slowly raised the weapon to his shoulder and took a long\nand steady aim. Just then the stranger put his fingers to his lips and\ngave a low, shrill whistle. It was the last whistle that he was to give\nupon this earth. There was a sharp, jarring twang of the bow-string, the\nhiss of the flying bolt, and the dull thud as it struck its mark. The\nman gave a shrill, quavering cry, and went staggering back, and then\nfell all of a heap against the wall behind him. As though in answer to\nthe cry, half a dozen men rushed tumultuously out from the shadow of\nthe gateway whence the stranger had just come, and then stood in the\ncourt-yard, looking uncertainly this way and that, not knowing from what\nquarter the stroke had come that had laid their comrade low.\n\nBut Schwartz Carl did not give them time to discover that; there was no\nchance to string his cumbersome weapon again; down he flung it upon the\nground. \"To arms!\" he roared in a voice of thunder, and then clapped to\nthe door of Melchior's tower and shot the great iron bolts with a clang\nand rattle.\n\nThe next instant the Trutz-Drachen men were thundering at the door, but\nSchwartz Carl was already far up the winding steps.\n\nBut now the others came pouring out from the gateway. \"To the house,\"\nroared Baron Henry.\n\nThen suddenly a clashing, clanging uproar crashed out upon the night.\nDong! Dong! It was the great alarm bell from Melchior's tower--Schwartz\nCarl was at his post.\n\nLittle Baron Otto lay sleeping upon the great rough bed in his room,\ndreaming of the White Cross on the hill and of brother John. By and by\nhe heard the convent bell ringing, and knew that there must be visitors\nat the gate, for loud voices sounded through his dream. Presently he\nknew that he was coming awake, but though the sunny monastery garden\ngrew dimmer and dimmer to his sleeping sight, the clanging of the bell\nand the sound of shouts grew louder and louder. Then he opened his eyes.\nFlaming red lights from torches, carried hither and thither by people\nin the court-yard outside, flashed and ran along the wall of his\nroom. Hoarse shouts and cries filled the air, and suddenly the shrill,\npiercing shriek of a woman rang from wall to wall; and through the\nnoises the great bell from far above upon Melchior's tower clashed and\nclanged its harsh, resonant alarm.\n\nOtto sprang from his bed and looked out of the window and down upon\nthe court-yard below. \"Dear God! what dreadful thing hath happened?\" he\ncried and clasped his hands together.\n\nA cloud of smoke was pouring out from the windows of the building across\nthe court-yard, whence a dull ruddy glow flashed and flickered. Strange\nmen were running here and there with flaming torches, and the now\ncontinuous shrieking of women pierced the air.\n\nJust beneath the window lay the figure of a man half naked and face\ndownward upon the stones. Then suddenly Otto cried out in fear and\nhorror, for, as he looked with dazed and bewildered eyes down into the\nlurid court-yard beneath, a savage man, in a shining breast-plate and\nsteel cap, came dragging the dark, silent figure of a woman across the\nstones; but whether she was dead or in a swoon, Otto could not tell.\n\nAnd every moment the pulsing of that dull red glare from the windows of\nthe building across the court-yard shone more brightly, and the glare\nfrom other flaming buildings, which Otto could not see from his window,\nturned the black, starry night into a lurid day.\n\nJust then the door of the room was burst open, and in rushed poor old\nUrsela, crazy with her terror. She flung herself down upon the floor and\ncaught Otto around the knees. \"Save me!\" she cried, \"save me!\" as though\nthe poor, pale child could be of any help to her at such a time. In the\npassageway without shone the light of torches, and the sound of loud\nfootsteps came nearer and nearer.\n\nAnd still through all the din sounded continually the clash and clang\nand clamor of the great alarm bell.\n\nThe red light flashed into the room, and in the doorway stood a tall,\nthin figure clad from head to foot in glittering chain armor. From\nbehind this fierce knight, with his dark, narrow, cruel face, its\ndeep-set eyes glistening in the light of the torches, crowded six or\neight savage, low-browed, brutal men, who stared into the room and\nat the white-faced boy as he stood by the window with the old woman\nclinging to his knees and praying to him for help.\n\n\"We have cracked the nut and here is the kernel,\" said one of them who\nstood behind the rest, and thereupon a roar of brutal laughter went up.\nBut the cruel face of the armed knight never relaxed into a smile;\nhe strode into the room and laid his iron hand heavily upon the boy's\nshoulder. \"Art thou the young Baron Otto?\" said he, in a harsh voice.\n\n\"Aye,\" said the lad; \"but do not kill me.\"\n\nThe knight did not answer him. \"Fetch the cord hither,\" said he, \"and\ndrag the old witch away.\"\n\nIt took two of them to loosen poor old Ursela's crazy clutch from about\nher young master. Then amid roars of laughter they dragged her away,\nscreaming and scratching and striking with her fists.\n\nThey drew back Otto's arms behind his back and wrapped them round and\nround with a bowstring. Then they pushed and hustled and thrust him\nforth from the room and along the passageway, now bright with the flames\nthat roared and crackled without. Down the steep stairway they drove\nhim, where thrice he stumbled and fell amid roars of laughter. At last\nthey were out into the open air of the court-yard. Here was a terrible\nsight, but Otto saw nothing of it; his blue eyes were gazing far away,\nand his lips moved softly with the prayer that the good monks of St.\nMichaelsburg had taught him, for he thought that they meant to slay him.\n\nAll around the court-yard the flames roared and snapped and crackled.\nFour or five figures lay scattered here and there, silent in all the\nglare and uproar. The heat was so intense that they were soon forced\nback into the shelter of the great gateway, where the women captives,\nunder the guard of three or four of the Trutz-Drachen men, were crowded\ntogether in dumb, bewildered terror. Only one man was to be seen among\nthe captives, poor, old, half blind Master Rudolph, the steward,\nwho crouched tremblingly among the women. They had set the blaze to\nMelchior's tower, and now, below, it was a seething furnace. Above, the\nsmoke rolled in black clouds from the windows, but still the alarm bell\nsounded through all the blaze and smoke. Higher and higher the flames\nrose; a trickle of fire ran along the frame buildings hanging aloft in\nthe air. A clear flame burst out at the peak of the roof, but still the\nbell rang forth its clamorous clangor. Presently those who watched below\nsaw the cluster of buildings bend and sink and sway; there was a crash\nand roar, a cloud of sparks flew up as though to the very heavens\nthemselves, and the bell of Melchior's tower was stilled forever. A\ngreat shout arose from the watching, upturned faces.\n\n\"Forward!\" cried Baron Henry, and out from the gateway they swept and\nacross the drawbridge, leaving Drachenhausen behind them a flaming\nfurnace blazing against the gray of the early dawning.\n\n\n\n\nVIII. In the House of the Dragon Scorner.\n\nTall, narrow, gloomy room; no furniture but a rude bench a bare stone\nfloor, cold stone walls and a gloomy ceiling of arched stone over head;\na long, narrow slit of a window high above in the wall, through the iron\nbars of which Otto could see a small patch of blue sky and now and then\na darting swallow, for an instant seen, the next instant gone. Such\nwas the little baron's prison in Trutz-Drachen. Fastened to a bolt\nand hanging against the walls, hung a pair of heavy chains with gaping\nfetters at the ends. They were thick with rust, and the red stain of\nthe rust streaked the wall below where they hung like a smear of blood.\nLittle Otto shuddered as he looked at them; can those be meant for me,\nhe thought.\n\nNothing was to be seen but that one patch of blue sky far up in the\nwall. No sound from without was to be heard in that gloomy cell of\nstone, for the window pierced the outer wall, and the earth and its\nnoises lay far below.\n\nSuddenly a door crashed without, and the footsteps of men were heard\ncoming along the corridor. They stopped in front of Otto's cell; he\nheard the jingle of keys, and then a loud rattle of one thrust into\nthe lock of the heavy oaken door. The rusty bolt was shot back with a\nscreech, the door opened, and there stood Baron Henry, no longer in his\narmor, but clad in a long black robe that reached nearly to his feet,\na broad leather belt was girdled about his waist, and from it dangled a\nshort, heavy hunting sword.\n\nAnother man was with the Baron, a heavy-faced fellow clad in a leathern\njerkin over which was drawn a short coat of linked mail.\n\nThe two stood for a moment looking into the room, and Otto, his pale\nface glimmering in the gloom, sat upon the edge of the heavy wooden\nbench or bed, looking back at them out of his great blue eyes. Then the\ntwo entered and closed the door behind them.\n\n\"Dost thou know why thou art here?\" said the Baron, in his deep, harsh\nvoice.\n\n\"Nay,\" said Otto, \"I know not.\"\n\n\"So?\" said the Baron. \"Then I will tell thee. Three years ago the good\nBaron Frederick, my uncle, kneeled in the dust and besought mercy at thy\nfather's hands; the mercy he received was the coward blow that slew him.\nThou knowest the story?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said Otto, tremblingly, \"I know it.\"\n\n\"Then dost thou not know why I am here?\" said the Baron.\n\n\"Nay, dear Lord Baron, I know not,\" said poor little Otto, and began to\nweep.\n\nThe Baron stood for a moment or two looking gloomily upon him, as the\nlittle boy sat there with the tears running down his white face.\n\n\"I will tell thee,\" said he, at last; \"I swore an oath that the red cock\nshould crow on Drachenhausen, and I have given it to the dames. I swore\nan oath that no Vuelph that ever left my hands should be able to strike\nsuch a blow as thy father gave to Baron Frederick, and now I will fulfil\nthat too. Catch the boy, Casper, and hold him.\"\n\nAs the man in the mail shirt stepped toward little Otto, the boy leaped\nup from where he sat and caught the Baron about the knees. \"Oh! dear\nLord Baron,\" he cried, \"do not harm me; I am only a little child, I have\nnever done harm to thee; do not harm me.\"\n\n\"Take him away,\" said the Baron, harshly.\n\nThe fellow stooped, and loosening Otto's hold, in spite of his struggles\nand cries, carried him to the bench, against which he held him, whilst\nthe Baron stood above him.\n\nBaron Henry and the other came forth from the cell, carefully closing\nthe wooden door behind them. At the end of the corridor the Baron\nturned, \"Let the leech be sent to the boy,\" said he. And then he turned\nand walked away.\n\nOtto lay upon the hard couch in his cell, covered with a shaggy bear\nskin. His face was paler and thinner than ever, and dark rings encircled\nhis blue eyes. He was looking toward the door, for there was a noise of\nsomeone fumbling with the lock without.\n\nSince that dreadful day when Baron Henry had come to his cell, only two\nsouls had visited Otto. One was the fellow who had come with the Baron\nthat time; his name, Otto found, was Casper. He brought the boy his rude\nmeals of bread and meat and water. The other visitor was the leech or\ndoctor, a thin, weasand little man, with a kindly, wrinkled face and a\ngossiping tongue, who, besides binding wounds, bleeding, and leeching,\nand administering his simple remedies to those who were taken sick in\nthe castle, acted as the Baron's barber.\n\nThe Baron had left the key in the lock of the door, so that these two\nmight enter when they chose, but Otto knew that it was neither the one\nnor the other whom he now heard at the door, working uncertainly with\nthe key, striving to turn it in the rusty, cumbersome lock. At last the\nbolts grated back, there was a pause, and then the door opened a little\nway, and Otto thought that he could see someone peeping in from without.\nBy and by the door opened further, there was another pause, and then\na slender, elfish-looking little girl, with straight black hair and\nshining black eyes, crept noiselessly into the room.\n\nShe stood close by the door with her finger in her mouth, staring at\nthe boy where he lay upon his couch, and Otto upon his part lay, full of\nwonder, gazing back upon the little elfin creature.\n\nShe, seeing that he made no sign or motion, stepped a little nearer, and\nthen, after a moment's pause, a little nearer still, until, at last, she\nstood within a few feet of where he lay.\n\n\"Art thou the Baron Otto?\" said she.\n\n\"Yes,\" answered Otto.\n\n\"Prut!\" said she, \"and is that so! Why, I thought that thou wert a great\ntall fellow at least, and here thou art a little boy no older than Carl\nMax, the gooseherd.\" Then, after a little pause--\"My name is Pauline,\nand my father is the Baron. I heard him tell my mother all about thee,\nand so I wanted to come here and see thee myself: Art thou sick?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Otto, \"I am sick.\"\n\n\"And did my father hurt thee?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said Otto, and his eyes filled with tears, until one sparkling\ndrop trickled slowly down his white face.\n\nLittle Pauline stood looking seriously at him for a while. \"I am sorry\nfor thee, Otto,\" said she, at last. And then, at her childish pity, he\nbegan crying in earnest.\n\nThis was only the first visit of many from the little maid, for after\nthat she often came to Otto's prison, who began to look for her coming\nfrom day to day as the one bright spot in the darkness and the gloom.\n\nSitting upon the edge of his bed and gazing into his face with wide open\neyes, she would listen to him by the hour, as he told her of his life in\nthat far away monastery home; of poor, simple brother John's wonderful\nvisions, of the good Abbot's books with their beautiful pictures, and of\nall the monkish tales and stories of knights and dragons and heroes and\nemperors of ancient Rome, which brother Emmanuel had taught him to read\nin the crabbed monkish Latin in which they were written.\n\nOne day the little maid sat for a long while silent after he had ended\nspeaking. At last she drew a deep breath. \"And are all these things that\nthou tellest me about the priests in their castle really true?\" said\nshe.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Otto, \"all are true.\"\n\n\"And do they never go out to fight other priests?\"\n\n\"No,\" said Otto, \"they know nothing of fighting.\"\n\n\"So!\" said she. And then fell silent in the thought of the wonder of\nit all, and that there should be men in the world that knew nothing of\nviolence and bloodshed; for in all the eight years of her life she had\nscarcely been outside of the walls of Castle Trutz-Drachen.\n\nAt another time it was of Otto's mother that they were speaking.\n\n\"And didst thou never see her, Otto?\" said the little girl.\n\n\"Aye,\" said Otto, \"I see her sometimes in my dreams, and her face always\nshines so bright that I know she is an angel; for brother John has often\nseen the dear angels, and he tells me that their faces always shine in\nthat way. I saw her the night thy father hurt me so, for I could not\nsleep and my head felt as though it would break asunder. Then she\ncame and leaned over me and kissed my forehead, and after that I fell\nasleep.\"\n\n\"But where did she come from, Otto?\" said the little girl.\n\n\"From paradise, I think,\" said Otto, with that patient seriousness that\nhe had caught from the monks, and that sat so quaintly upon him.\n\n\"So!\" said little Pauline; and then, after a pause, \"That is why thy\nmother kissed thee when thy head ached--because she is an angel. When\nI was sick my mother bade Gretchen carry me to a far part of the house,\nbecause I cried and so troubled her. Did thy mother ever strike thee,\nOtto?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Otto.\n\n\"Mine hath often struck me,\" said Pauline.\n\nOne day little Pauline came bustling into Otto's cell, her head full of\nthe news which she carried. \"My father says that thy father is out\nin the woods somewhere yonder, back of the castle, for Fritz, the\nswineherd, told my father that last night he had seen a fire in the\nwoods, and that he had crept up to it without anyone knowing. There he\nhad seen the Baron Conrad and six of his men, and that they were eating\none of the swine that they had killed and roasted. Maybe,\" said she,\nseating herself upon the edge of Otto's couch; \"maybe my father will\nkill thy father, and they will bring him here and let him lie upon a\nblack bed with bright candles burning around him, as they did my uncle\nFrederick when he was killed.\"\n\n\"God forbid!\" said Otto, and then lay for a while with his hands\nclasped. \"Dost thou love me, Pauline?\" said he, after a while.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Pauline, \"for thou art a good child, though my father says\nthat thy wits are cracked.\"\n\n\"Mayhap they are,\" said Otto, simply, \"for I have often been told so\nbefore. But thou wouldst not see me die, Pauline; wouldst thou?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Pauline, \"I would not see thee die, for then thou couldst\ntell me no more stories; for they told me that uncle Frederick could not\nspeak because he was dead.\"\n\n\"Then listen, Pauline,\" said Otto; \"if I go not away from here I shall\nsurely die. Every day I grow more sick and the leech cannot cure me.\"\nHere he broke down and, turning his face upon the couch, began crying,\nwhile little Pauline sat looking seriously at him.\n\n\"Why dost thou cry, Otto?\" said she, after a while.\n\n\"Because,\" said he, \"I am so sick, and I want my father to come and take\nme away from here.\"\n\n\"But why dost thou want to go away?\" said Pauline. \"If thy father takes\nthee away, thou canst not tell me any more stories.\"\n\n\"Yes, I can,\" said Otto, \"for when I grow to be a man I will come\nagain and marry thee, and when thou art my wife I can tell thee all the\nstories that I know. Dear Pauline, canst thou not tell my father where I\nam, that he may come here and take me away before I die?\"\n\n\"Mayhap I could do so,\" said Pauline, after a little while, \"for\nsometimes I go with Casper Max to see his mother, who nursed me when I\nwas a baby. She is the wife of Fritz, the swineherd, and she will make\nhim tell thy father; for she will do whatever I ask of her, and Fritz\nwill do whatever she bids him do.\"\n\n\"And for my sake, wilt thou tell him, Pauline?\" said Otto.\n\n\"But see, Otto,\" said the little girl, \"if I tell him, wilt thou promise\nto come indeed and marry me when thou art grown a man?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Otto, very seriously, \"I will promise.\"\n\n\"Then I will tell thy father where thou art,\" said she.\n\n\"But thou wilt do it without the Baron Henry knowing, wilt thou not,\nPauline?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said she, \"for if my father and my mother knew that I did such\na thing, they would strike me, mayhap send me to my bed alone in the\ndark.\"\n\n\n\n\nIX. How One-eyed Hans came to Trutz-Drachen.\n\nFritz, the swineherd, sat eating his late supper of porridge out of a\ngreat, coarse, wooden bowl; wife Katherine sat at the other end of the\ntable, and the half-naked little children played upon the earthen floor.\nA shaggy dog lay curled up in front of the fire, and a grunting pig\nscratched against a leg of the rude table close beside where the woman\nsat.\n\n\"Yes, yes,\" said Katherine, speaking of the matter of which they had\nalready been talking. \"It is all very true that the Drachenhausens are a\nbad lot, and I for one am of no mind to say no to that; all the same it\nis a sad thing that a simple-witted little child like the young Baron\nshould be so treated as the boy has been; and now that our Lord Baron\nhas served him so that he, at least, will never be able to do us 'harm,\nI for one say that he should not be left there to die alone in that\nblack cell.\"\n\nFritz, the swineherd, gave a grunt at this without raising his eyes from\nthe bowl.\n\n\"Yes, good,\" said Katherine, \"I know what thou meanest, Fritz, and that\nit is none of my business to be thrusting my finger into the Baron's\ndish. But to hear the way that dear little child spoke when she was here\nthis morn--it would have moved a heart of stone to hear her tell of all\nhis pretty talk. Thou wilt try to let the red-beard know that that poor\nboy, his son, is sick to death in the black cell; wilt thou not, Fritz?\"\n\nThe swineherd dropped his wooden spoon into the bowl with a clatter.\n\"Potstausand!\" he cried; \"art thou gone out of thy head to let thy wits\nrun upon such things as this of which thou talkest to me? If it should\ncome to our Lord Baron's ears he would cut the tongue from out thy head\nand my head from off my shoulders for it. Dost thou think I am going to\nmeddle in such a matter as this? Listen! these proud Baron folk, with\ntheir masterful ways, drive our sort hither and thither; they beat us,\nthey drive us, they kill us as they choose. Our lives are not as much\nto them as one of my black swine. Why should I trouble my head if they\nchoose to lop and trim one another? The fewer there are of them the\nbetter for us, say I. We poor folk have a hard enough life of it without\nthrusting our heads into the noose to help them out of their troubles.\nWhat thinkest thou would happen to us if Baron Henry should hear of our\nbetraying his affairs to the Red-beard?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Katherine, \"thou hast naught to do in the matter but to tell\nthe Red-beard in what part of the castle the little Baron lies.\"\n\n\"And what good would that do?\" said Fritz, the swineherd.\n\n\"I know not,\" said Katherine, \"but I have promised the little one that\nthou wouldst find the Baron Conrad and tell him that much.\"\n\n\"Thou hast promised a mare's egg,\" said her husband, angrily. \"How shall\nI find the Baron Conrad to bear a message to him, when our Baron has\nbeen looking for him in vain for two days past?\"\n\n\"Thou has found him once and thou mayst find him again,\" said Katherine,\n\"for it is not likely that he will keep far away from here whilst his\nboy is in such sore need of help.\"\n\n\"I will have nothing to do with it!\" said Fritz, and he got up from the\nwooden block whereon he was sitting and stumped out of the house. But,\nthen, Katherine had heard him talk in that way before, and knew, in\nspite of his saying \"no,\" that, sooner or later, he would do as she\nwished.\n\nTwo days later a very stout little one-eyed man, clad in a leathern\njerkin and wearing a round leathern cap upon his head, came toiling up\nthe path to the postern door of Trutz-Drachen, his back bowed under the\nburthen of a great peddler's pack. It was our old friend the one-eyed\nHans, though even his brother would hardly have known him in his present\nguise, for, besides having turned peddler, he had grown of a sudden\nsurprisingly fat.\n\nRap-tap-tap! He knocked at the door with a knotted end of the crooked\nthorned staff upon which he leaned. He waited for a while and then\nknocked again--rap-tap-tap!\n\nPresently, with a click, a little square wicket that pierced the door\nwas opened, and a woman's face peered out through the iron bars.\n\nThe one-eyed Hans whipped off his leathern cap.\n\n\"Good day, pretty one,\" said he, \"and hast thou any need of glass beads,\nribbons, combs, or trinkets? Here I am come all the way from Gruenstadt,\nwith a pack full of such gay things as thou never laid eyes on before.\nHere be rings and bracelets and necklaces that might be of pure silver\nand set with diamonds and rubies, for anything that thy dear one could\ntell if he saw thee decked in them. And all are so cheap that thou hast\nonly to say, 'I want them,' and they are thine.\"\n\nThe frightened face at the window looked from right to left and from\nleft to right. \"Hush,\" said the girl, and laid her finger upon her lips.\n\"There! thou hadst best get away from here, poor soul, as fast as thy\nlegs can carry thee, for if the Lord Baron should find thee here talking\nsecretly at the postern door, he would loose the wolf-hounds upon thee.\"\n\n\"Prut,\" said one-eyed Hans, with a grin, \"the Baron is too big a fly to\nsee such a little gnat as I; but wolf-hounds or no wolf-hounds, I\ncan never go hence without showing thee the pretty things that I have\nbrought from the town, even though my stay be at the danger of my own\nhide.\"\n\nHe flung the pack from off his shoulders as he spoke and fell to\nunstrapping it, while the round face of the lass (her eyes big with\ncuriosity) peered down at him through the grated iron bars.\n\nHans held up a necklace of blue and white beads that glistened like\njewels in the sun, and from them hung a gorgeous filigree cross. \"Didst\nthou ever see a sweeter thing than this?\" said he; \"and look, here is a\ncomb that even the silversmith would swear was pure silver all the way\nthrough.\" Then, in a soft, wheedling voice, \"Canst thou not let me in,\nmy little bird? Sure there are other lasses besides thyself who would\nlike to trade with a poor peddler who has travelled all the way from\nGruenstadt just to please the pretty ones of Trutz-Drachen.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said the lass, in a frightened voice, \"I cannot let thee in; I\nknow not what the Baron would do to me, even now, if he knew that I was\nhere talking to a stranger at the postern;\" and she made as if she would\nclap to the little window in his face; but the one-eyed Hans thrust his\nstaff betwixt the bars and so kept the shutter open.\n\n\"Nay, nay,\" said he, eagerly, \"do not go away from me too soon. Look,\ndear one; seest thou this necklace?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said she, looking hungrily at it.\n\n\"Then listen; if thou wilt but let me into the castle, so that I may\nstrike a trade, I will give it to thee for thine own without thy paying\na barley corn for it.\"\n\nThe girl looked and hesitated, and then looked again; the temptation was\ntoo great. There was a noise of softly drawn bolts and bars, the door\nwas hesitatingly opened a little way, and, in a twinkling, the one-eyed\nHans had slipped inside the castle, pack and all.\n\n\"The necklace,\" said the girl, in a frightened whisper.\n\nHans thrust it into her hand. \"It's thine,\" said he, \"and now wilt thou\nnot help me to a trade?\"\n\n\"I will tell my sister that thou art here,\" said she, and away she ran\nfrom the little stone hallway, carefully bolting and locking the further\ndoor behind her.\n\nThe door that the girl had locked was the only one that connected the\npostern hail with the castle.\n\nThe one-eyed Hans stood looking after her. \"Thou fool!\" he muttered to\nhimself, \"to lock the door behind thee. What shall I do next, I should\nlike to know? Here am I just as badly off as I was when I stood outside\nthe walls. Thou hussy! If thou hadst but let me into the castle for only\ntwo little minutes, I would have found somewhere to have hidden myself\nwhile thy back was turned. But what shall I do now?\" He rested his pack\nupon the floor and stood looking about him.\n\nBuilt in the stone wall opposite to him, was a high, narrow fireplace\nwithout carving of any sort. As Hans' one eye wandered around the bare\nstone space, his glance fell at last upon it, and there it rested. For\na while he stood looking intently at it, presently he began rubbing his\nhand over his bristling chin in a thoughtful, meditative manner. Finally\nhe drew a deep breath, and giving himself a shake as though to arouse\nhimself from his thoughts, and after listening a moment or two to\nmake sure that no one was nigh, he walked softly to the fireplace, and\nstooping, peered up the chimney. Above him yawned a black cavernous\ndepth, inky with the soot of years. Hans straightened himself, and\ntilting his leathern cap to one side, began scratching his bullet-head;\nat last he drew a long breath. \"Yes, good,\" he muttered to himself; \"he\nwho jumps into the river must e'en swim the best he can. It is a vile,\ndirty place to thrust one's self; but I am in for it now, and must make\nthe best of a lame horse.\"\n\nHe settled the cap more firmly upon his head, spat upon his hands, and\nonce more stooping in the fireplace, gave a leap, and up the chimney he\nwent with a rattle of loose mortar and a black trickle of soot.\n\nBy and by footsteps sounded outside the door. There was a pause; a\nhurried whispering of women's voices; the twitter of a nervous laugh,\nand then the door was pushed softly opens and the girl to whom the\none-eyed Hans had given the necklace of blue and white beads with the\nfiligree cross hanging from it, peeped uncertainly into the room. Behind\nher broad, heavy face were three others, equally homely and stolid; for\na while all four stood there, looking blankly into the room and around\nit. Nothing was there but the peddler's knapsack lying in the middle of\nthe floor-the man was gone. The light of expectancy slowly faded Out of\nthe girl's face, and in its place succeeded first bewilderment and then\ndull alarm. \"But, dear heaven,\" she said, \"where then has the peddler\nman gone?\"\n\nA moment or two of silence followed her speech. \"Perhaps,\" said one of\nthe others, in a voice hushed with awe, \"perhaps it was the evil one\nhimself to whom thou didst open the door.\"\n\nAgain there was a hushed and breathless pause; it was the lass who had\nlet Hans in at the postern, who next spoke.\n\n\"Yes,\" said she, in a voice trembling with fright at what she had done,\n\"yes, it must have been the evil one, for now I remember he had but one\neye.\" The four girls crossed themselves, and their eyes grew big and\nround with the fright.\n\nSuddenly a shower of mortar came rattling down the chimney. \"Ach!\" cried\nthe four, as with one voice. Bang! the door was clapped to and away they\nscurried like a flock of frightened rabbits.\n\nWhen Jacob, the watchman, came that way an hour later, upon his evening\nround of the castle, he found a peddler's knapsack lying in the middle\nof the floor. He turned it over with his pike-staff and saw that it was\nfull of beads and trinkets and ribbons.\n\n\"How came this here?\" said he. And then, without waiting for the answer\nwhich he did not expect, he flung it over his shoulder and marched away\nwith it.\n\n\n\n\nX. How Hans Brought Terror to the Kitchen.\n\nHans found himself in a pretty pickle in the chimney, for the soot got\ninto his one eye and set it to watering, and into his nose and set him\nto sneezing, and into his mouth and his ears and his hair. But still\nhe struggled on, up and up; \"for every chimney has a top,\" said Hans\nto himself \"and I am sure to climb out somewhere or other.\" Suddenly he\ncame to a place where another chimney joined the one he was climbing,\nand here he stopped to consider the matter at his leisure. \"See now,\" he\nmuttered, \"if I still go upward I may come out at the top of some tall\nchimney-stack with no way of getting down outside. Now, below here\nthere must be a fire-place somewhere, for a chimney does not start from\nnothing at all; yes, good! we will go down a while and see what we make\nof that.\"\n\nIt was a crooked, zigzag road that he had to travel, and rough and hard\ninto the bargain. His one eye tingled and smarted, and his knees and\nelbows were rubbed to the quick; nevertheless One-eyed Hans had been in\nworse trouble than this in his life.\n\nDown he went and down he went, further than he had climbed upward\nbefore. \"Sure, I must be near some place or other,\" he thought.\n\nAs though in instant answer to his thoughts, he heard the sudden sound\nof a voice so close beneath him that he stopped short in his downward\nclimbing and stood as still as a mouse, with his heart in his mouth.\nA few inches more and he would have been discovered;--what would have\nhappened then would have been no hard matter to foretell.\n\nHans braced his back against one side of the chimney, his feet against\nthe other and then, leaning forward, looked down between his knees. The\ngray light of the coming evening glimmered in a wide stone fireplace\njust below him. Within the fireplace two people were moving about upon\nthe broad hearth, a great, fat woman and a shock-headed boy. The woman\nheld a spit with two newly trussed fowls upon it, so that One-eyed Hans\nknew that she must be the cook.\n\n\"Thou ugly toad,\" said the woman to the boy, \"did I not bid thee make a\nfire an hour ago? and now, here there is not so much as a spark to roast\nthe fowls withall, and they to be basted for the lord Baron's supper.\nWhere hast thou been for all this time?\"\n\n\"No matter,\" said the boy, sullenly, as he laid the fagots ready for the\nlighting; \"no matter, I was not running after Long Jacob, the bowman, to\ntry to catch him for a sweetheart, as thou hast been doing.\"\n\nThe reply was instant and ready. The cook raised her hand; \"smack!\" she\nstruck and a roar from the scullion followed.\n\n\"Yes, good,\" thought Hans, as he looked down upon them; \"I am glad that\nthe boy's ear was not on my head.\"\n\n\"Now give me no more of thy talk,\" said the woman, \"but do the work\nthat thou hast been bidden.\" Then--\"How came all this black soot here, I\nshould like to know?\"\n\n\"How should I know?\" snuffled the scullion, \"mayhap thou wouldst blame\nthat on me also?\"\n\n\"That is my doing,\" whispered Hans to himself; \"but if they light the\nfire, what then becomes of me?\"\n\n\"See now,\" said the cook; \"I go to make the cakes ready; if I come back\nand find that thou hast not built the fire, I will warm thy other ear\nfor thee.\"\n\n\"So,\" thought Hans; \"then will be my time to come down the chimney, for\nthere will be but one of them.\"\n\nThe next moment he heard the door close and knew that the cook had gone\nto make the cakes ready as she said. And as he looked down he saw that\nthe boy was bending over the bundle of fagots, blowing the spark that\nhe had brought in upon the punk into a flame. The dry fagots began to\ncrackle and blaze. \"Now is my time,\" said Hans to himself. Bracing his\nelbows against each side of the chimney, he straightened his legs so\nthat he might fall clear His motions loosened little shower of soot that\nfell rattling upon the fagots that were now beginning to blaze brightly,\nwhereupon the boy raised his face and looked up. Hans loosened his hold\nupon the chimney; crash! he fell, lighting upon his feet in the midst\nof the burning fagots. The scullion boy tumbled backward upon the floor,\nwhere he lay upon the broad of his back with a face as white as\ndough and eyes and mouth agape, staring speechlessly at the frightful\ninky-black figure standing in the midst of the flames and smoke. Then\nhis scattered wits came back to him. \"It is the evil one,\" he roared.\nAnd thereupon, turning upon his side, he half rolled, half scrambled to\nthe door. Then out he leaped and, banging it to behind him, flew down\nthe passageway, yelling with fright and never daring once to look behind\nhim.\n\nAll the time One-eyed Hans was brushing away the sparks that clung to\nhis clothes. He was as black as ink from head to foot with the soot from\nthe chimney.\n\n\"So far all is good,\" he muttered to himself, \"but if I go wandering\nabout in my sooty shoes I will leave black tracks to follow me, so there\nis nothing to do but e'en to go barefoot.\"\n\nHe stooped and drawing the pointed soft leather shoes from his feet, he\nthrew them upon the now blazing fagots, where they writhed and twisted\nand wrinkled, and at last burst into a flame. Meanwhile Hans lost no\ntime; he must find a hiding-place, and quickly, if he would yet hope\nto escape. A great bread trough stood in the corner of the kitchen--a\nhopper-shaped chest with a flat lid. It was the best hiding place that\nthe room afforded. Without further thought Hans ran to it, snatching up\nfrom the table as he passed a loaf of black bread and a bottle half full\nof stale wine, for he had had nothing to eat since that morning. Into\nthe great bread trough he climbed, and drawing the lid down upon him,\ncurled himself up as snugly as a mouse in its nest.\n\nFor a while the kitchen lay in silence, but at last the sound of voices\nwas heard at the door, whispering together in low tones. Suddenly the\ndoor was flung open and a tall, lean, lantern-jawed fellow, clad in\nrough frieze, strode into the room and stood there glaring with half\nfrightened boldness around about him; three or four women and the\ntrembling scullion crowded together in a frightened group behind him.\n\nThe man was Long Jacob, the bowman; but, after all, his boldness was\nall wasted, for not a thread or a hair was to be seen, but only the\ncrackling fire throwing its cheerful ruddy glow upon the wall of the\nroom, now rapidly darkening in the falling gray of the twilight without.\n\nThe fat cook's fright began rapidly to turn into anger.\n\n\"Thou imp,\" she cried, \"it is one of thy tricks,\" and she made a dive\nfor the scullion, who ducked around the skirts of one of the other women\nand so escaped for the time; but Long Jacob wrinkled up his nose and\nsniffed. \"Nay,\" said he, \"me thinks that there lieth some truth in the\ntale that the boy hath told, for here is a vile smell of burned horn\nthat the black one bath left behind him.\"\n\nIt was the smell from the soft leather shoes that Hans had burned.\n\nThe silence of night had fallen over the Castle of Trutz-Drachen; not\na sound was heard but the squeaking of mice scurring behind the\nwainscoting, the dull dripping of moisture from the eaves, or the\nsighing of the night wind around the gables and through the naked\nwindows of the castle.\n\nThe lid of the great dough trough was softly raised, and a face, black\nwith soot, peeped cautiously out from under it. Then little by little\narose a figure as black as the face; and One-eyed Hans stepped out upon\nthe floor, stretching and rubbing himself.\n\n\"Methinks I must have slept,\" he muttered. \"Hui, I am as stiff as a new\nleather doublet, and now, what next is to become of me? I hope my luck\nmay yet stick to me, in spite of this foul black soot!\"\n\nAlong the middle of the front of the great hall of the castle, ran a\nlong stone gallery, opening at one end upon the court-yard by a high\nflight of stone steps. A man-at-arms in breast-plate and steel cap, and\nbearing a long pike, paced up and down the length of this gallery, now\nand then stopping, leaning over the edge, and gazing up into the starry\nsky above; then, with a long drawn yawn, lazily turning back to the\nmonotonous watch again.\n\nA dark figure crept out from an arched doorway at the lower part of the\nlong straight building, and some little distance below the end gallery,\nbut the sentry saw nothing of it, for his back was turned. As silently\nand as stealthily as a cat the figure crawled along by the dark shadowy\nwall, now and then stopping, and then again creeping slowly forward\ntoward the gallery where the man-at-arms moved monotonously up and down.\nIt was One-eyed Hans in his bare feet.\n\nInch by inch, foot by foot--the black figure crawled along in the angle\nof the wall; inch by inch and foot by foot, but ever nearer and nearer\nto the long straight row of stone steps that led to the covered gallery.\nAt last it crouched at the lowest step of the flight. Just then the\nsentinel upon watch came to the very end of the gallery and stood there\nleaning upon his spear. Had he looked down below he could not have\nfailed to have seen One-eyed Hans lying there motionlessly; but he was\ngazing far away over the steep black roofs beyond, and never saw the\nunsuspected presence. Minute after minute passed, and the one stood\nthere looking out into the night and the other lay crouching by the\nwall; then with a weary sigh the sentry turned and began slowly pacing\nback again toward the farther end of the gallery.\n\nInstantly the motionless figure below arose and glided noiselessly and\nswiftly up the flight of steps.\n\nTwo rude stone pillars flanked either side of the end of the gallery.\nLike a shadow the black figure slipped behind one of these, flattening\nitself up against the wall, where it stood straight and motionless as\nthe shadows around it.\n\nDown the long gallery came the watchman, his sword clinking loudly in\nthe silence as he walked, tramp, tramp, tramp! clink, clank, jingle.\n\nWithin three feet of the motionless figure behind the pillar he turned,\nand began retracing his monotonous steps. Instantly the other left the\nshadow of the post and crept rapidly and stealthily after him. One step,\ntwo steps the sentinel took; for a moment the black figure behind him\nseemed to crouch and draw together, then like a flash it leaped forward\nupon its victim.\n\nA shadowy cloth fell upon the man's face, and in an instant he was flung\nback and down with a muffled crash upon the stones. Then followed a\nfierce and silent struggle in the darkness, but strong and sturdy as the\nman was, he was no match for the almost superhuman strength of One-eyed\nHans. The cloth which he had flung over his head was tied tightly and\nsecurely. Then the man was forced upon his face and, in spite of his\nfierce struggles, his arms were bound around and around with strong fine\ncord; next his feet were bound in the same way, and the task was done.\nThen Hans stood upon his feet, and wiped the sweat from his swarthy\nforehead. \"Listen, brother,\" he whispered, and as he spoke he stooped\nand pressed something cold and hard against the neck of the other.\n\"Dost thou know the feel of this? It is a broad dagger, and if thou\ndost contrive to loose that gag from thy mouth and makest any outcry, it\nshall be sheathed in thy weasand.\"\n\nSo saying, he thrust the knife back again into its sheath, then stooping\nand picking up the other, he flung him across his shoulder like a sack,\nand running down the steps as lightly as though his load was nothing at\nall, he carried his burden to the arched doorway whence he had come a\nlittle while before. There, having first stripped his prisoner of\nall his weapons, Hans sat the man up in the angle of the wall. \"So,\nbrother;\" said he, \"now we can talk with more ease than we could up\nyonder. I will tell thee frankly why I am here; it is to find where the\nyoung Baron Otto of Drachenhausen is kept. If thou canst tell me,\nwell and good; if not, I must e'en cut thy weasand and find me one who\nknoweth more. Now, canst thou tell me what I would learn, brother?\"\n\nThe other nodded dimly in the darkness.\n\n\"That is good,\" said Hans, \"then I will loose thy gag until thou hast\ntold me; only bear in mind what I said concerning my dagger.\"\n\nThereupon, he unbound his prisoner, and the fellow slowly rose to his\nfeet. He shook himself and looked all about him in a heavy, bewildered\nfashion, as though he had just awakened from a dream.\n\nHis right hand slid furtively down to his side, but the dagger-sheath\nwas empty.\n\n\"Come, brother!\" said Hans, impatiently, \"time is passing, and once lost\ncan never be found again. Show me the way to the young Baron Otto or--.\"\nAnd he whetted the shining blade of his dagger on his horny palm.\n\nThe fellow needed no further bidding; turning, he led the way, and\ntogether they were swallowed up in the yawning shadows, and again the\nhush of night-time lay upon the Castle of Trutz-Drachen.\n\n\n\n\nXI. How Otto was Saved.\n\nLittle Otto was lying upon the hard couch in his cell, tossing in\nrestless and feverish sleep; suddenly a heavy hand was laid upon him and\na voice whispered in his ear, \"Baron, Baron Otto, waken, rouse yourself;\nI am come to help you. I am One-eyed Hans.\"\n\nOtto was awake in an instant and raised himself upon his elbow in the\ndarkness. \"One-eyed Hans,\" he breathed, \"One-eyed Hans; who is One-eyed\nHans?\"\n\n\"True,\" said the other, \"thou dost not know me. I am thy father's\ntrusted servant, and am the only one excepting his own blood and kin\nwho has clung to him in this hour of trouble. Yes, all are gone but me\nalone, and so I have come to help thee away from this vile place.\"\n\n\"Oh, dear, good Hans! if only thou canst!\" cried Otto; \"if only thou\ncanst take me away from this wicked place. Alas, dear Hans! I am weary\nand sick to death.\" And poor little Otto began to weep silently in the\ndarkness.\n\n\"Aye, aye,\" said Hans, gruffly, \"it is no place for a little child\nto be. Canst thou climb, my little master? canst thou climb a knotted\nrope?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Otto, \"I can never climb again! See, Hans;\" and he flung\nback the covers from off him.\n\n\"I cannot see,\" said Hans, \"it is too dark.\"\n\n\"Then feel, dear Hans,\" said Otto.\n\nHans bent over the poor little white figure glimmering palely in the\ndarkness. Suddenly he drew back with a snarl like an angry wolf. \"Oh!\nthe black, bloody wretches!\" he cried, hoarsely; \"and have they done\nthat to thee, a little child?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Otto, \"the Baron Henry did it.\" And then again he began to\ncry.\n\n\"There, there,\" said Hans, roughly, \"weep no more. Thou shalt get away\nfrom here even if thou canst not climb; I myself will help thee. Thy\nfather is already waiting below the window here, and thou shalt soon be\nwith him. There, there, cry no more.\"\n\nWhile he was speaking Hans had stripped off his peddler's leathern\njacket, and there, around his body, was wrapped coil after coil of stout\nhempen rope tied in knots at short distances. He began unwinding the\nrope, and when he had done he was as thin as ever he had been before.\nNext he drew from the pouch that hung at his side a ball of fine cord\nand a leaden weight pierced by a hole, both of which he had brought with\nhim for the use to which he now put them. He tied the lead to the end of\nthe cord, then whirling the weight above his head, he flung it up toward\nthe window high above. Twice the piece of lead fell back again into the\nroom; the third time it flew out between the iron bars carrying the cord\nwith it. Hans held the ball in his hand and paid out the string as the\nweight carried it downward toward the ground beneath. Suddenly the cord\nstopped running. Hans jerked it and shook it, but it moved no farther.\n\"Pray heaven, little child,\" said he, \"that it hath reached the ground,\nfor if it hath not we are certainly lost.\"\n\n\"I do pray,\" said Otto, and he bowed his head.\n\nThen, as though in answer to his prayer, there came a twitch upon the\ncord.\n\n\"See,\" said Hans, \"they have heard thee up above in heaven; it was thy\nfather who did that.\" Quickly and deftly he tied the cord to the end of\nthe knotted rope; then he gave an answering jerk upon the string. The\nnext moment the rope was drawn up to the window and down the outside by\nthose below. Otto lay watching the rope as it crawled up to the window\nand out into the night like a great snake, while One-eyed Hans held the\nother end lest it should be drawn too far. At last it stopped. \"Good,\"\nmuttered Hans, as though to himself. \"The rope is long enough.\"\n\nHe waited for a few minutes and then, drawing upon the rope and finding\nthat it was held from below, he spat upon his hands and began slowly\nclimbing up to the window above. Winding his arm around the iron bars of\nthe grating that guarded it, he thrust his hand into the pouch that hung\nby his side, and drawing forth a file, fell to work cutting through all\nthat now lay between Otto and liberty.\n\nIt was slow, slow work, and it seemed to Otto as though Hans would never\nfinish his task, as lying upon his hard couch he watched that figure,\nblack against the sky, bending over its work. Now and then the file\nscreeched against the hard iron, and then Hans would cease for a moment,\nbut only to begin again as industriously as ever. Three or four times he\ntried the effects of his work, but still the iron held. At last he\nset his shoulder against it, and as Otto looked he saw the iron bend.\nSuddenly there was a sharp crack, and a piece of the grating went flying\nout into the night.\n\nHans tied the rope securely about the stump of the stout iron bar that\nyet remained, and then slid down again into the room below.\n\n\"My little lord,\" said he, \"dost thou think that if I carry thee, thou\nwilt be able and strong enough to cling to my neck?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said Otto, \"methinks I will be able to do that.\"\n\n\"Then come,\" said Hans.\n\nHe stooped as he spoke, and gently lifting Otto from his rude and rugged\nbed he drew his broad leathern belt around them both, buckling it firmly\nand securely. \"It does not hurt thee?\" said he.\n\n\"Not much,\" whispered Otto faintly.\n\nThen Hans spat upon his hands, and began slowly climbing the rope.\n\nThey reached the edge of the window and there they rested for a moment,\nand Otto renewed his hold around the neck of the faithful Hans.\n\n\"And now art thou ready?\" said Hans\n\n\"Aye,\" said Otto.\n\n\"Then courage,\" said Hans, and he turned and swung his leg over the\nabyss below.\n\nThe next moment they were hanging in mid-air.\n\nOtto looked down and gave a gasp. \"The mother of heaven bless us,\" he\nwhispered, and then closed his eyes, faint and dizzy at the sight of\nthat sheer depth beneath. Hans said nothing, but shutting his teeth\nand wrapping his legs around the rope, he began slowly descending, hand\nunder hand. Down, down, down he went, until to Otto, with his eyes shut\nand his head leaning upon Hans' shoulder, it seemed as though it could\nnever end. Down, down, down. Suddenly he felt Hans draw a deep breath;\nthere was a slight jar, and Otto opened his eyes; Hans was standing upon\nthe ground.\n\nA figure wrapped in a dark cloak arose from the shadow of the wall, and\ntook Otto in its arms. It was Baron Conrad.\n\n\"My son--my little child!\" he cried, in a choked, trembling voice, and\nthat was all. And Otto pressed his cheek against his father's and began\ncrying.\n\nSuddenly the Baron gave a sharp, fierce cry. \"Dear Heaven!\" he cried;\n\"what have they done to thee?\" But poor little Otto could not answer.\n\n\"Oh!\" gasped the Baron, in a strangled voice, \"my little child! my\nlittle child!\" And therewith he broke down, and his whole body shook\nwith fierce, dry sobs; for men in those days did not seek to hide their\ngrief as they do now, but were fierce and strong in the expression of\nthat as of all else.\n\n\"Never mind, dear father,\" whispered Otto; \"it did not hurt me so very\nmuch,\" and he pressed his lips against his father's cheek.\n\nLittle Otto had but one hand.\n\n\n\n\nXII. A Ride For Life.\n\nBut not yet was Otto safe, and all danger past and gone by. Suddenly, as\nthey stood there, the harsh clangor of a bell broke the silence of\nthe starry night above their heads, and as they raised their faces and\nlooked up, they saw lights flashing from window to window. Presently\ncame the sound of a hoarse voice shouting something that, from the\ndistance, they could not understand.\n\nOne-eyed Hans smote his hand upon his thigh. Look said he, \"here is\nwhat comes of having a soft heart in one's bosom. I overcame and bound a\nwatchman up yonder, and forced him to tell me where our young Baron lay.\nIt was on my mind to run my knife into him after he had told me every\nthing, but then, bethinking how the young Baron hated the thought of\nbloodshed, I said to myself, 'No, Hans, I will spare the villain's\nlife.' See now what comes of being merciful; here, by hook or by crook,\nthe fellow has loosed himself from his bonds, and brings the whole\ncastle about our ears like a nest of wasps.\"\n\n\"We must fly,\" said the Baron; \"for nothing else in the world is\nleft me, now that all have deserted me in this black time of trouble,\nexcepting these six faithful ones.\"\n\nHis voice was bitter, bitter, as he spoke; then stooping, he raised Otto\nin his arms, and bearing him gently, began rapidly descending the rocky\nslope to the level road that ran along the edge of the hill beneath.\nClose behind him followed the rest; Hans still grimed with soot and in\nhis bare feet. A little distance from the road and under the shade of\nthe forest trees, seven horses stood waiting. The Baron mounted upon\nhis great black charger, seating little Otto upon the saddle in front of\nhim. \"Forward!\" he cried, and away they clattered and out upon the road.\nThen--\"To St. Michaelsburg,\" said Baron Conrad, in his deep voice, and\nthe horses' heads were turned to the westward, and away they galloped\nthrough the black shadows of the forest, leaving Trutz-Drachen behind\nthem.\n\nBut still the sound of the alarm bell rang through the beating of the\nhorses' hoofs, and as Hans looked over his shoulder, he saw the light\nof torches flashing hither and thither along the outer walls in front of\nthe great barbican.\n\nIn Castle Trutz-Drachen all was confusion and uproar: flashing torches\nlit up the dull gray walls; horses neighed and stamped, and men shouted\nand called to one another in the bustle of making ready. Presently Baron\nHenry came striding along the corridor clad in light armor, which he had\nhastily donned when roused from his sleep by the news that his prisoner\nhad escaped. Below in the courtyard his horse was standing, and without\nwaiting for assistance, he swung himself into the saddle. Then away they\nall rode and down the steep path, armor ringing, swords clanking, and\niron-shod hoofs striking sparks of fire from the hard stones. At their\nhead rode Baron Henry; his triangular shield hung over his shoulder, and\nin his hand he bore a long, heavy, steel-pointed lance with a pennant\nflickering darkly from the end.\n\nAt the high-road at the base of the slope they paused, for they were at\na loss to know which direction the fugitives had taken; a half a score\nof the retainers leaped from their horses, and began hurrying about\nhither and thither, and up and down, like hounds searching for the lost\nscent, and all the time Baron Henry sat still as a rock in the midst of\nthe confusion.\n\nSuddenly a shout was raised from the forest just beyond the road; they\nhad come upon the place where the horses had been tied. It was an easy\nmatter to trace the way that Baron Conrad and his followers had taken\nthence back to the high-road, but there again they were at a loss. The\nroad ran straight as an arrow eastward and westward--had the fugitives\ntaken their way to the east or to the west?\n\nBaron Henry called his head-man, Nicholas Stein, to him, and the\ntwo spoke together for a while in an undertone. At last the Baron's\nlieutenant reined his horse back, and choosing first one and then\nanother, divided the company into two parties. The baron placed himself\nat the head of one band and Nicholas Stein at the head of the other.\n\"Forward!\" he cried, and away clattered the two companies of horsemen in\nopposite directions.\n\nIt was toward the westward that Baron Henry of Trutz-Drachen rode at the\nhead of his men.\n\nThe early springtide sun shot its rays of misty, yellow light across the\nrolling tops of the forest trees where the little birds were singing in\nthe glory of the May morning. But Baron Henry and his followers thought\nnothing of the beauty of the peaceful day, and heard nothing of the\nmultitudinous sound of the singing birds as, with a confused sound of\ngalloping hoofs, they swept along the highway, leaving behind them a\nslow-curling, low-trailing cloud of dust.\n\nAs the sun rose more full and warm, the misty wreaths began to dissolve,\nuntil at last they parted and rolled asunder like a white curtain and\nthere, before the pursuing horsemen, lay the crest of the mountain\ntoward which they were riding, and up which the road wound steeply.\n\n\"Yonder they are,\" cried a sudden voice behind Baron Henry of\nTrutz-Drachen, and at the cry all looked upward.\n\nFar away upon the mountain-side curled a cloud of dust, from the midst\nof which came the star-like flash of burnished armor gleaming in the\nsun.\n\nBaron Henry said never a word, but his lips curled in a grim smile.\n\nAnd as the mist wreaths parted One-eyed Hans looked behind and down\ninto the leafy valley beneath. \"Yonder they come,\" said he. \"They have\nfollowed sharply to gain so much upon us, even though our horses are\nwearied with all the travelling we have done hither and yon these five\ndays past. How far is it, Lord Baron, from here to Michaelsburg?\"\n\n\"About ten leagues,\" said the Baron, in a gloomy voice.\n\nHans puckered his mouth as though to whistle, but the Baron saw nothing\nof it, for he was gazing straight before him with a set and stony face.\nThose who followed him looked at one another, and the same thought was\nin the mind of each--how long would it be before those who pursued would\nclose the distance between them?\n\nWhen that happened it meant death to one and all.\n\nThey reached the crest of the hill, and down they dashed upon the other\nside; for there the road was smooth and level as it sloped away into the\nvalley, but it was in dead silence that they rode. Now and then those\nwho followed the Baron looked back over their shoulders. They had gained\na mile upon their pursuers when the helmeted heads rose above the crest\nof the mountain, but what was the gain of a mile with a smooth road\nbetween them, and fresh horses to weary ones?\n\nOn they rode and on they rode. The sun rose higher and higher, and\nhotter and hotter. There was no time to rest and water their panting\nhorses. Only once, when they crossed a shallow stretch of water, the\npoor animals bent their heads and caught a few gulps from the cool\nstream, and the One-eyed Hans washed a part of the soot from his hands\nand face. On and on they rode; never once did the Baron Conrad move his\nhead or alter that steadfast look as, gazing straight before him, he\nrode steadily forward along the endless stretch of road, with poor\nlittle Otto's yellow head and white face resting against his steel-clad\nshoulder--and St. Michaelsburg still eight leagues away.\n\nA little rise of ground lay before them, and as they climbed it, all,\nexcepting the baron, turned their heads as with one accord and looked\nbehind them. Then more than one heart failed, for through the leaves\nof the trees below, they caught the glint of armor of those who\nfollowed--not more than a mile away. The next moment they swept over the\ncrest, and there, below them, lay the broad shining river, and nearer a\ntributary stream spanned by a rude, narrow, three-arched, stone bridge\nwhere the road crossed the deep, slow-moving water.\n\nDown the slope plodded the weary horses, and so to the bridge-head.\n\n\"Halt,\" cried the baron suddenly, and drew rein.\n\nThe others stood bewildered. What did he mean to do? He turned to Hans\nand his blue eyes shone like steel.\n\n\"Hans,\" said he, in his deep voice, \"thou hast served me long and truly;\nwilt thou for this one last time do my bidding?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said Hans, briefly.\n\n\"Swear it,\" said the Baron.\n\n\"I swear it,\" said Hans, and he drew the sign of the cross upon his\nheart.\n\n\"That is good,\" said the Baron, grimly. \"Then take thou this child,\nand with the others ride with all the speed that thou canst to St.\nMichaelsburg. Give the child into the charge of the Abbot Otto. Tell\nhim how that I have sworn fealty to the Emperor, and what I have gained\nthereby--my castle burnt, my people slain, and this poor, simple child,\nmy only son, mutilated by my enemy.\n\n\"And thou, my Lord Baron?\" said Hans.\n\n\"I will stay here,\" said the Baron, quietly, \"and keep back those who\nfollow as long as God will give me grace so to do.\"\n\nA murmur of remonstrance rose among the faithful few who were with\nhim, two of whom were near of kin. But Conrad of Drachenhausen turned\nfiercely upon them.\n\n\"How now,\" said he, \"have I fallen so low in my troubles that even ye\ndare to raise your voices against me? By the good Heaven, I will begin\nmy work here by slaying the first man who dares to raise word against\nmy bidding.\" Then he turned from them. \"Here, Hans,\" said he, \"take the\nboy; and remember, knave, what thou hast sworn.\"\n\nHe pressed Otto close to his breast in one last embrace. \"My little\nchild,\" he murmured, \"try not to hate thy father when thou thinkest of\nhim hereafter, even though he be hard and bloody as thou knowest.\"\n\nBut with his suffering and weakness, little Otto knew nothing of what\nwas passing; it was only as in a faint flickering dream that he lived in\nwhat was done around him.\n\n\"Farewell, Otto,\" said the Baron, but Otto's lips only moved faintly in\nanswer. His father kissed him upon either cheek. \"Come, Hans,\" said\nhe, hastily, \"take him hence;\" and he loosed Otto's arms from about his\nneck.\n\nHans took Otto upon the saddle in front of him.\n\n\"Oh! my dear Lord Baron,\" said he, and then stopped with a gulp, and\nturned his grotesquely twitching face aside.\n\n\"Go,\" said the Baron, harshly, \"there is no time to lose in woman's\ntears.\"\n\n\"Farewell, Conrad! farewell, Conrad!\" said his two kinsmen, and coming\nforward they kissed him upon the cheek then they turned and rode away\nafter Hans, and Baron Conrad was left alone to face his mortal foe.\n\n\n\n\nXIII. How Baron Conrad Held the Bridge.\n\nAs the last of his followers swept around the curving road and was lost\nto sight, Baron Conrad gave himself a shake, as though to drive away the\nthoughts that lay upon him. Then he rode slowly forward to the middle of\nthe bridge, where he wheeled his horse so as to face his coming enemies.\nHe lowered the vizor of his helmet and bolted it to its place, and then\nsaw that sword and dagger were loose in the scabbard and easy to draw\nwhen the need for drawing should arise.\n\n\nDown the steep path from the hill above swept the pursuing horsemen.\nDown the steep path to the bridge-head and there drew rein; for in the\nmiddle of the narrow way sat the motionless, steel-clad figure upon the\ngreat war-horse, with wide, red, panting nostrils, and body streaked\nwith sweat and flecked with patches of foam.\n\nOne side of the roadway of the bridge was guarded by a low stone wall;\nthe other side was naked and open and bare to the deep, slow-moving\nwater beneath. It was a dangerous place to attack a desperate man clad\nin armor of proof.\n\n\"Forward!\" cried Baron Henry, but not a soul stirred in answer, and\nstill the iron-clad figure sat motionless and erect upon the panting\nhorse.\n\n\"How,\" cried the Baron Henry, \"are ye afraid of one man? Then follow\nme!\" and he spurred forward to the bridge-head. But still no one moved\nin answer, and the Lord of Trutz-Drachen reined back his horse again.\nHe wheeled his horse and glared round upon the stolid faces of his\nfollowers, until his eyes seemed fairly to blaze with passion beneath\nthe bars of his vizor.\n\nBaron Conrad gave a roar of laughter. \"How now,\" he cried; \"are ye all\nafraid of one man? Is there none among ye that dares come forward and\nmeet me? I know thee, Baron Henry thou art not afraid to cut off the\nhand of a little child. Hast thou not now the courage to face the\nfather?\"\n\nBaron Henry gnashed his teeth with rage as he glared around upon the\nfaces of his men-at-arms. Suddenly his eye lit upon one of them. \"Ha!\nCarl Spigler,\" he cried, \"thou hast thy cross-bow with thee;--shoot me\ndown yonder dog! Nay,\" he said, \"thou canst do him no harm under his\narmor; shoot the horse upon which he sits.\"\n\nBaron Conrad heard the speech. \"Oh! thou coward villain!\" he cried,\n\"stay; do not shoot the good horse. I will dismount and fight ye upon\nfoot.\" Thereupon, armed as he was, he leaped clashing from his horse and\nturning the animal's head, gave it a slap upon the flank. The good horse\nfirst trotted and then walked to the further end of the bridge, where it\nstopped and began cropping at the grass that grew beside the road.\n\n\"Now then!\" cried Baron Henry, fiercely, \"now then, ye cannot fear him,\nvillains! Down with him! forward!\"\n\nSlowly the troopers spurred their horses forward upon the bridge and\ntoward that one figure that, grasping tightly the great two-handed\nsword, stood there alone guarding the passage.\n\nThen Baron Conrad whirled the great blade above his head, until it\ncaught the sunlight and flashed again. He did not wait for the attack,\nbut when the first of the advancing horsemen had come within a few feet\nof him, he leaped with a shout upon them. The fellow thrust at him with\nhis lance, and the Baron went staggering a few feet back, but instantly\nhe recovered himself and again leaped forward. The great sword flashed\nin the air, whistling; it fell, and the nearest man dropped his lance,\nclattering, and with a loud, inarticulate cry, grasped the mane of his\nhorse with both hands. Again the blade whistled in the air, and this\ntime it was stained with red. Again it fell, and with another shrill cry\nthe man toppled headlong beneath the horse's feet. The next instant they\nwere upon him, each striving to strike at the one figure, to ride him\ndown, or to thrust him down with their lances. There was no room now to\nswing the long blade, but holding the hilt in both hands, Baron Conrad\nthrust with it as though it were a lance, stabbing at horse or man, it\nmattered not. Crowded upon the narrow roadway of the bridge, those who\nattacked had not only to guard themselves against the dreadful strokes\nof that terrible sword, but to keep their wounded horses (rearing and\nmad with fright) from toppling bodily over with them into the water\nbeneath.\n\nPresently the cry was raised, \"Back! back!\" And those nearest the Baron\nbegan reining in their horses. \"Forward!\" roared Baron Henry, from the\nmidst of the crowd; but in spite of his command, and even the blows that\nhe gave, those behind were borne back by those in front, struggling and\nshouting, and the bridge was cleared again excepting for three figures\nthat lay motionless upon the roadway, and that one who, with the\nbrightness of his armor dimmed and stained, leaned panting against the\nwall of the bridge.\n\nThe Baron Henry raged like a madman. Gnashing his teeth together, he\nrode back a little way; then turning and couching his lance, he suddenly\nclapped spurs to his horse, and the next instant came thundering down\nupon his solitary enemy.\n\nBaron Conrad whirled his sword in the air, as he saw the other coming\nlike a thunderbolt upon him; he leaped aside, and the lance passed close\nto him. As it passed he struck, and the iron point flew from the shaft\nof the spear at the blow, and fell clattering upon the stone roadway of\nthe bridge.\n\nBaron Henry drew in his horse until it rested upon its haunches, then\nslowly reined it backward down the bridge, still facing his foe,\nand still holding the wooden stump of the lance in his hand. At the\nbridge-head he flung it from him.\n\n\"Another lance!\" he cried, hoarsely. One was silently reached to him\nand he took it, his hand trembling with rage. Again he rode to a little\ndistance and wheeled his horse; then, driving his steel spurs into its\nquivering side, he came again thundering down upon the other. Once more\nthe terrible sword whirled in the air and fell, but this time the lance\nwas snatched to one side and the blow fell harmlessly. The next instant,\nand with a twitch of the bridle-rein, the horse struck full and fair\nagainst the man.\n\nConrad of Drachenhausen was whirled backward and downward, and the cruel\niron hoofs crashed over his prostrate body, as horse and man passed with\na rush beyond him and to the bridge-head beyond. A shout went up from\nthose who stood watching. The next moment the prostrate figure rose and\nstaggered blindly to the side of the bridge, and stood leaning against\nthe stone wall.\n\nAt the further end of the bridge Baron Henry had wheeled his horse. Once\nagain he couched lance, and again he drove down upon his bruised and\nwounded enemy. This time the lance struck full and fair, and those who\nwatched saw the steel point pierce the iron breast-plate and then snap\nshort, leaving the barbed point within the wound.\n\nBaron Conrad sunk to his knees and the Roderburg, looming upon his horse\nabove him, unsheathed his sword to finish the work he had begun.\n\nThen those who stood looking on saw a wondrous thing happen: the wounded\nman rose suddenly to his feet, and before his enemy could strike he\nleaped, with a great and bitter cry of agony and despair, upon him as he\nsat in the saddle above.\n\nHenry of Trutz-Drachen grasped at his horse's mane, but the attack\nwas so fierce, so sudden, and so unexpected that before he could save\nhimself he was dragged to one side and fell crashing in his armor upon\nthe stone roadway of the bridge.\n\n\"The dragon! the dragon!\" roared Baron Conrad, in a voice of thunder,\nand with the energy of despair he dragged his prostrate foe toward the\nopen side of the bridge.\n\n\"Forward!\" cried the chief of the Trutz-Drachen men, and down they rode\nupon the struggling knights to the rescue of their master in this new\ndanger. But they were too late.\n\nThere was a pause at the edge of the bridge, for Baron Henry had gained\nhis feet and, stunned and bewildered as he was by the suddenness of his\nfall, he was now struggling fiercely, desperately. For a moment they\nstood swaying backward and forward, clasped in one another's arms, the\nblood from the wounded man's breast staining the armor of both. The\nmoment passed and then, with a shower of stones and mortar from beneath\ntheir iron-shod heels, they toppled and fell; there was a thunderous\nsplash in the water below, and as the men-at-arms came hurrying up and\npeered with awe-struck faces over the parapet of the bridge, they saw\nthe whirling eddies sweep down with the current of the stream, a few\nbubbles rise to the surface of the water, and then--nothing; for the\nsmooth river flowed onward as silently as ever.\n\nPresently a loud voice burst through the awed hush that followed. It\ncame from William of Roderburg, Baron Henry's kinsman.\n\n\"Forward!\" he cried. A murmur of voices from the others was all the\nanswer that he received. \"Forward!\" cried the young man again, \"the boy\nand those with him are not so far away but that we might yet catch up\nwith them.\"\n\nThen one of the men spoke up in answer--a man with a seamed,\nweather-beaten face and crisp grizzled hair. \"Nay,\" said he, \"our Lord\nBaron is gone, and this is no quarrel of ours; here be four of us that\nare wounded and three I misdoubt that are dead; why should we follow\nfurther only to suffer more blows for no gain?\" A growl of assent rose\nfrom those that stood around, and William of Roderburg saw that nothing\nmore was to be done by the Trutz-Dragons that day.\n\n\n\n\nXIV. How Otto Saw the Great Emperor.\n\nThrough weakness and sickness and faintness, Otto had lain in a half\nswoon through all that long journey under the hot May sun. It was as in\na dreadful nightmare that he had heard on and on and on that monotonous\nthrobbing of galloping hoofs upon the ground; had felt that last kiss\nthat his father had given him upon his cheek. Then the onward ride\nagain, until all faded away into a dull mist and he knew no more. When\nnext he woke it was with the pungent smell of burned vinegar in his\nnostrils and with the feeling of a cool napkin bathing his brow. He\nopened his eyes and then closed them again, thinking he must have been\nin a dream, for he lay in his old room at the peaceful monastery of the\nWhite Cross on the hill; the good Father Abbot sat near by, gazing upon\nhis face with the old absent student look, Brother John sat in the deep\nwindow seat also gazing at him, and Brother Theodore, the leech of the\nmonastery, sat beside him bathing his head. Beside these old familiar\nfaces were the faces of those who had been with him in that long flight;\nthe One-eyed Hans, old Master Nicholas his kinsman, and the others.\nSo he closed his eyes, thinking that maybe it was all a dream. But the\nsharp throbbing of the poor stump at his wrist soon taught him that he\nwas still awake.\n\n\"Am I then really home in St. Michaelsburg again?\" he murmured, without\nunclosing his eyes.\n\nBrother Theodore began snuffling through his nose; there was a pause.\n\"Yes,\" said the old Abbot at last, and his gentle voice trembled as\nhe spoke; \"yes, my dear little child, thou art back again in thine own\nhome; thou hast not been long out in the great world, but truly thou\nhast had a sharp and bitter trial of it.\"\n\n\"But they will not take me away again, will they?\" said Otto quickly,\nunclosing his blue eyes.\n\n\"Nay,\" said the Abbot, gently; \"not until thou art healed in body and\nart ready and willing to go.\"\n\nThree months and more had passed, and Otto was well again; and now,\nescorted by One-eyed Hans and those faithful few who had clung to the\nBaron Conrad through his last few bitter days, he was riding into the\nquaint old town of Nurnburg; for the Emperor Rudolph was there at that\ntime, waiting for King Ottocar of Bohemia to come thither and answer\nthe imperial summons before the Council, and Otto was travelling to the\ncourt.\n\nAs they rode in through the gates of the town, Otto looked up at the\nhigh-peaked houses with their overhanging gables, the like of which he\nhad never seen before, and he stared with his round blue eyes at seeing\nthem so crowded together along the length of the street. But most of\nall he wondered at the number of people that passed hither and thither,\njostling each other in their hurry, and at the tradesmen's booths\nopening upon the street with the wonderful wares hanging within; armor\nat the smiths, glittering ornaments at the goldsmiths, and rich fabrics\nof silks and satins at the mercers. He had never seen anything so rich\nand grand in all of his life, for little Otto had never been in a town\nbefore.\n\n\"Oh! look,\" he cried, \"at that wonderful lady; see, holy father! sure\nthe Emperor's wife can be no finer than that lady.\"\n\nThe Abbot smiled. \"Nay, Otto,\" said he, \"that is but a burgher's wife or\ndaughter; the ladies at the Emperor's court are far grander than such as\nshe.\"\n\n\"So!\" said Otto, and then fell silent with wonder.\n\nAnd now, at last the great moment had come when little Otto with his own\neyes was to behold the mighty Emperor who ruled over all the powerful\nkingdoms of Germany and Austria, and Italy and Bohemia, and other\nkingdoms and principalities and states. His heart beat so that he could\nhardly speak as, for a moment, the good Abbot who held him by the hand\nstopped outside of the arrased doorway to whisper some last instructions\ninto his ear. Then they entered the apartment.\n\nIt was a long, stone-paved room. The floor was covered with rich rugs\nand the walls were hung with woven tapestry wherein were depicted\nknights and ladies in leafy gardens and kings and warriors at battle.\nA long row of high glazed windows extended along the length of the\napartment, flooding it with the mellow light of the autumn day. At\nthe further end of the room, far away, and standing by a great carved\nchimney place wherein smouldered the remains of a fire, stood a group of\nnobles in gorgeous dress of velvet and silks, and with glittering golden\nchains hung about their necks.\n\nOne figure stood alone in front of the great yawning fireplace. His\nhands were clasped behind him, and his look bent thoughtfully upon the\nfloor. He was dressed only in a simple gray robe without ornament or\nadornment, a plain leathern belt girded his waist, and from it hung a\nsword with a bone hilt encased in a brown leathern scabbard. A noble\nstag-hound lay close behind him, curled up upon the floor, basking in\nthe grateful warmth of the fire.\n\nAs the Father Abbot and Otto drew near he raised his head and looked\nat them. It was a plain, homely face that Otto saw, with a wrinkled\nforehead and a long mouth drawn down at the corners. It was the face of\na good, honest burgher burdened with the cares of a prosperous trade.\n\"Who can he be,\" thought Otto, \"and why does the poor man stand there\namong all the great nobles?\"\n\nBut the Abbot walked straight up to him and kneeled upon the floor,\nand little Otto, full of wonder, did the same. It was the great Emperor\nRudolph.\n\n\"Who have we here,\" said the Emperor, and he bent his brow upon the\nAbbot and the boy.\n\n\"Sire,\" said Abbot Otto, \"we have humbly besought you by petition, in\nthe name of your late vassal, Baron Conrad of Vuelph of Drachenhausen,\nfor justice to this his son, the Baron Otto, whom, sire, as you may see,\nhath been cruelly mutilated at the hands of Baron Henry of Roderburg of\nTrutz-Drachen. He hath moreover been despoiled of his lands, his castle\nburnt, and his household made prisoner.\"\n\nThe Emperor frowned until the shaggy eyebrows nearly hid the keen gray\ntwinkle of the eyes beneath. \"Yes,\" said he, \"I do remember me of\nthat petition, and have given it consideration both in private and in\ncouncil.\" He turned to the group of listening nobles. \"Look,\" said he,\n\"at this little child marred by the inhumanity and the cruelty of those\nrobber villains. By heavens! I will put down their lawless rapine, if I\nhave to give every castle from the north to the south to the flames and\nto the sword.\" Then turning to Otto again, \"Poor little child,\" said he,\n\"thy wrongs shall be righted, and so far as they are able, those cruel\nRoderburgs shall pay thee penny for penny, and grain for grain, for what\nthou hast lost; and until such indemnity hath been paid the family of\nthe man who wrought this deed shall be held as surety.\"\n\nLittle Otto looked up in the kind, rugged face above him. \"Nay, Lord\nEmperor,\" said he, in his quaint, quiet way, \"there are but two in the\nfamily--the mother and the daughter--and I have promised to marry the\nlittle girl when she and I are old enough; so, if you please, I would\nnot have harm happen to her.\"\n\nThe Emperor continued to look down at the kneeling boy, and at last he\ngave a short, dry laugh. \"So be it,\" said he, \"thy plan is not without\nits wisdom. Mayhap it is all for the best that the affair should be\nended thus peacefully. The estates of the Roderburgs shall be held in\ntrust for thee until thou art come of age; otherwise it shall be as thou\nhast proposed, the little maiden shall be taken into ward under our own\ncare. And as to thee--art thou willing that I should take thee under my\nown charge in the room of thy father, who is dead?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said Otto, simply, \"I am willing, for it seems to me that thou\nart a good man.\"\n\nThe nobles who stood near smiled at the boy's speech. As for the\nEmperor, he laughed outright. \"I give thee thanks, my Lord Baron,\" said\nhe; \"there is no one in all my court who has paid me greater courtesy\nthan that.\"\n\nSo comes the end of our tale.\n\nBut perhaps you may like to know what happened afterward, for no one\ncares to leave the thread of a story without tying a knot in it.\n\nEight years had passed, and Otto grew up to manhood in the Emperor's\ncourt, and was with him through war and peace.\n\nBut he himself never drew sword or struck a blow, for the right hand\nthat hung at his side was of pure silver, and the hard, cold fingers\nnever closed. Folks called him \"Otto of the Silver Hand,\" but perhaps\nthere was another reason than that for the name that had been given him,\nfor the pure, simple wisdom that the old monks of the White Cross on\nthe hill had taught him, clung to him through all the honors that the\nEmperor bestowed upon his favorite, and as he grew older his words were\nlistened to and weighed by those who were high in Council, and even by\nthe Emperor himself.\n\nAnd now for the end of all.\n\nOne day Otto stood uncertainly at the doorway of a room in the imperial\ncastle, hesitating before he entered; and yet there was nothing so very\ndreadful within, only one poor girl whose heart fluttered more than his.\nPoor little Pauline, whom he had not seen since that last day in the\nblack cell at Trutz-Drachen.\n\nAt last he pushed aside the hangings and entered the room.\n\nShe was sitting upon a rude bench beside the window, looking at him out\nof her great, dark eyes.\n\nHe stopped short and stood for a moment confused and silent; for he had\nno thought in his mind but of the little girl whom he had last seen, and\nfor a moment he stood confused before the fair maiden with her great,\nbeautiful dark eyes.\n\nShe on her part beheld a tall, slender youth with curling, golden hair,\none hand white and delicate, the other of pure and shining silver.\n\nHe came to her and took her hand and set it to his lips, and all that\nshe could do was to gaze with her great, dark eyes upon the hero of whom\nshe had heard so many talk; the favorite of the Emperor; the wise young\nOtto of the Silver Hand.\n\n\n\n\nAfterword\n\nThe ruins of Drachenhausen were rebuilt, for the walls were as sound as\never, though empty and gaping to the sky; but it was no longer the den\nof a robber baron for beneath the scutcheon over the great gate was\ncarved a new motto of the Vuelphs; a motto which the Emperor Rudolph\nhimself had given:\n\n\"Manus argentea quam manus ferrea melior est.\"\n\n\n\n\n\nEnd of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Otto of the Silver Hand, by Howard Pyle\n\nNow, answer the question based on the story asconcisely as you can, using a single phrase if possible. Do not provide any explanation.\n\nQuestion: Why did Baroness Matillda went into premature labor?\n\nAnswer:"}
{"question_id": 129, "category": "longbench_narrativeqa", "reference": ["Otto was so young."], "prompt": "You are given a story, which can be either a novel or a movie script, and a question. Answer the question asconcisely as you can, using a single phrase if possible. Do not provide any explanation.\n\nStory: Produced by Angus Christian\n\n\n\n\n\nOTTO OF THE SILVER HAND\n\nBy Howard Pyle\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n     I.    The Dragon's House,\n     II.   How the Baron Went Forth to Shear,\n     III.  How the Baron Came Home Shorn,\n     IV.   The White Cross on the Hill,\n     V.    How Otto Dwelt at St. Michaelsburg,\n     VI.   How Otto Lived in the Dragon's House,\n     VII.  The Red Cock Crows on Drachenhausen,\n     VIII. In the House of the Dragon Scorner,\n     IX.   How One-eyed Hans Came to Trutz-Drachen,\n     X.    How Hans Brought Terror to the Kitchen,\n     XI.   How Otto was Saved,\n     XII.  A Ride for Life,\n     XIII. How Baron Conrad Held the Bridge,\n     XIV.  How Otto Saw the Great Emperor,\n\n\n\n\nFOREWORD.\n\nBetween the far away past history of the world, and that which lies near\nto us; in the time when the wisdom of the ancient times was dead and\nhad passed away, and our own days of light had not yet come, there lay a\ngreat black gulf in human history, a gulf of ignorance, of superstition,\nof cruelty, and of wickedness.\n\nThat time we call the dark or middle ages.\n\nFew records remain to us of that dreadful period in our world's history,\nand we only know of it through broken and disjointed fragments that have\nbeen handed down to us through the generations.\n\nYet, though the world's life then was so wicked and black, there yet\nremained a few good men and women here and there (mostly in peaceful\nand quiet monasteries, far from the thunder and the glare of the worlds\nbloody battle), who knew the right and the truth and lived according to\nwhat they knew; who preserved and tenderly cared for the truths that the\ndear Christ taught, and lived and died for in Palestine so long ago.\n\nThis tale that I am about to tell is of a little boy who lived and\nsuffered in those dark middle ages; of how he saw both the good and the\nbad of men, and of how, by gentleness and love and not by strife and\nhatred, he came at last to stand above other men and to be looked up to\nby all. And should you follow the story to the end, I hope you may find\nit a pleasure, as I have done, to ramble through those dark ancient\ncastles, to lie with little Otto and Brother John in the high\nbelfry-tower, or to sit with them in the peaceful quiet of the sunny\nold monastery garden, for, of all the story, I love best those early\npeaceful years that little Otto spent in the dear old White Cross on the\nHill.\n\nPoor little Otto's life was a stony and a thorny pathway, and it is well\nfor all of us nowadays that we walk it in fancy and not in truth.\n\n\n\n\nI. The Dragon's House.\n\nUp from the gray rocks, rising sheer and bold and bare, stood the walls\nand towers of Castle Drachenhausen. A great gate-way, with a heavy\niron-pointed portcullis hanging suspended in the dim arch above, yawned\nblackly upon the bascule or falling drawbridge that spanned a chasm\nbetween the blank stone walls and the roadway that winding down the\nsteep rocky slope to the little valley just beneath. There in the lap of\nthe hills around stood the wretched straw-thatched huts of the peasants\nbelonging to the castle--miserable serfs who, half timid, half fierce,\ntilled their poor patches of ground, wrenching from the hard soil barely\nenough to keep body and soul together. Among those vile hovels played\nthe little children like foxes about their dens, their wild, fierce eyes\npeering out from under a mat of tangled yellow hair.\n\nBeyond these squalid huts lay the rushing, foaming river, spanned by a\nhigh, rude, stone bridge where the road from the castle crossed it, and\nbeyond the river stretched the great, black forest, within whose gloomy\ndepths the savage wild beasts made their lair, and where in winter time\nthe howling wolves coursed their flying prey across the moonlit snow and\nunder the net-work of the black shadows from the naked boughs above.\n\nThe watchman in the cold, windy bartizan or watch-tower that clung to\nthe gray walls above the castle gateway, looked from his narrow window,\nwhere the wind piped and hummed, across the tree-tops that rolled in\nendless billows of green, over hill and over valley to the blue and\ndistant slope of the Keiserberg, where, on the mountain side, glimmered\nfar away the walls of Castle Trutz-Drachen.\n\nWithin the massive stone walls through which the gaping gateway led,\nthree great cheerless brick buildings, so forbidding that even the\nyellow sunlight could not light them into brightness, looked down, with\nrow upon row of windows, upon three sides of the bleak, stone courtyard.\nBack of and above them clustered a jumble of other buildings, tower and\nturret, one high-peaked roof overtopping another.\n\nThe great house in the centre was the Baron's Hall, the part to the left\nwas called the Roderhausen; between the two stood a huge square pile,\nrising dizzily up into the clear air high above the rest--the great\nMelchior Tower.\n\nAt the top clustered a jumble of buildings hanging high aloft in the\nwindy space a crooked wooden belfry, a tall, narrow watch-tower, and a\nrude wooden house that clung partly to the roof of the great tower and\npartly to the walls.\n\nFrom the chimney of this crazy hut a thin thread of smoke would now and\nthen rise into the air, for there were folk living far up in that empty,\nairy desert, and oftentimes wild, uncouth little children were seen\nplaying on the edge of the dizzy height, or sitting with their bare\nlegs hanging down over the sheer depths, as they gazed below at what was\ngoing on in the court-yard. There they sat, just as little children in\nthe town might sit upon their father's door-step; and as the sparrows\nmight fly around the feet of the little town children, so the circling\nflocks of rooks and daws flew around the feet of these air-born\ncreatures.\n\nIt was Schwartz Carl and his wife and little ones who lived far up there\nin the Melchior Tower, for it overlooked the top of the hill behind the\ncastle and so down into the valley upon the further side. There, day\nafter day, Schwartz Carl kept watch upon the gray road that ran like a\nribbon through the valley, from the rich town of Gruenstaldt to the rich\ntown of Staffenburgen, where passed merchant caravans from the one to\nthe other--for the lord of Drachenhausen was a robber baron.\n\nDong! Dong! The great alarm bell would suddenly ring out from the belfry\nhigh up upon the Melchior Tower. Dong! Dong! Till the rooks and daws\nwhirled clamoring and screaming. Dong! Dong! Till the fierce wolf-hounds\nin the rocky kennels behind the castle stables howled dismally in\nanswer. Dong! Dong!--Dong! Dong!\n\nThen would follow a great noise and uproar and hurry in the castle\ncourt-yard below; men shouting and calling to one another, the ringing\nof armor, and the clatter of horses' hoofs upon the hard stone. With the\ncreaking and groaning of the windlass the iron-pointed portcullis would\nbe slowly raised, and with a clank and rattle and clash of iron chains\nthe drawbridge would fall crashing. Then over it would thunder horse and\nman, clattering away down the winding, stony pathway, until the great\nforest would swallow them, and they would be gone.\n\nThen for a while peace would fall upon the castle courtyard, the cock\nwould crow, the cook would scold a lazy maid, and Gretchen, leaning out\nof a window, would sing a snatch of a song, just as though it were a\npeaceful farm-house, instead of a den of robbers.\n\nMaybe it would be evening before the men would return once more. Perhaps\none would have a bloody cloth bound about his head, perhaps one would\ncarry his arm in a sling; perhaps one--maybe more than one--would be\nleft behind, never to return again, and soon forgotten by all excepting\nsome poor woman who would weep silently in the loneliness of her daily\nwork.\n\nNearly always the adventurers would bring back with them pack-horses\nladen with bales of goods. Sometimes, besides these, they would return\nwith a poor soul, his hands tied behind his back and his feet beneath\nthe horse's body, his fur cloak and his flat cap wofully awry. A while\nhe would disappear in some gloomy cell of the dungeon-keep, until an\nenvoy would come from the town with a fat purse, when his ransom would\nbe paid, the dungeon would disgorge him, and he would be allowed to go\nupon his way again.\n\nOne man always rode beside Baron Conrad in his expeditions and\nadventures a short, deep-chested, broad-shouldered man, with sinewy arms\nso long that when he stood his hands hung nearly to his knees.\n\nHis coarse, close-clipped hair came so low upon his brow that only a\nstrip of forehead showed between it and his bushy, black eyebrows. One\neye was blind; the other twinkled and gleamed like a spark under the\npenthouse of his brows. Many folk said that the one-eyed Hans had drunk\nbeer with the Hill-man, who had given him the strength of ten, for he\ncould bend an iron spit like a hazel twig, and could lift a barrel of\nwine from the floor to his head as easily as though it were a basket of\neggs.\n\nAs for the one-eyed Hans he never said that he had not drunk beer with\nthe Hill-man, for he liked the credit that such reports gave him with\nthe other folk. And so, like a half savage mastiff, faithful to death\nto his master, but to him alone, he went his sullen way and lived his\nsullen life within the castle walls, half respected, half feared by the\nother inmates, for it was dangerous trifling with the one-eyed Hans.\n\n\n\n\nII. How the Baron went Forth to Shear.\n\nBaron Conrad and Baroness Matilda sat together at their morning meal\nbelow their raised seats stretched the long, heavy wooden table, loaded\nwith coarse food--black bread, boiled cabbage, bacon, eggs, a great\nchine from a wild boar, sausages, such as we eat nowadays, and flagons\nand jars of beer and wine, Along the board sat ranged in the order of\nthe household the followers and retainers. Four or five slatternly women\nand girls served the others as they fed noisily at the table, moving\nhere and there behind the men with wooden or pewter dishes of food, now\nand then laughing at the jests that passed or joining in the talk. A\nhuge fire blazed and crackled and roared in the great open fireplace,\nbefore which were stretched two fierce, shaggy, wolfish-looking hounds.\nOutside, the rain beat upon the roof or ran trickling from the eaves,\nand every now and then a chill draught of wind would breathe through the\nopen windows of the great black dining-hall and set the fire roaring.\n\nAlong the dull-gray wall of stone hung pieces of armor, and swords and\nlances, and great branching antlers of the stag. Overhead arched the\nrude, heavy, oaken beams, blackened with age and smoke, and underfoot\nwas a chill pavement of stone.\n\nUpon Baron Conrad's shoulder leaned the pale, slender, yellow-haired\nBaroness, the only one in all the world with whom the fierce lord of\nDrachenhausen softened to gentleness, the only one upon whom his savage\nbrows looked kindly, and to whom his harsh voice softened with love.\n\nThe Baroness was talking to her husband in a low voice, as he looked\ndown into her pale face, with its gentle blue eyes.\n\n\"And wilt thou not, then,\" said she, \"do that one thing for me?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" he growled, in his deep voice, \"I cannot promise thee never more\nto attack the towns-people in the valley over yonder. How else could I\nlive an' I did not take from the fat town hogs to fill our own larder?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said the Baroness, \"thou couldst live as some others do, for all\ndo not rob the burgher folk as thou dost. Alas! mishap will come upon\nthee some day, and if thou shouldst be slain, what then would come of\nme?\"\n\n\"Prut,\" said the Baron, \"thy foolish fears\" But he laid his rough, hairy\nhand softly upon the Baroness' head and stroked her yellow hair.\n\n\"For my sake, Conrad,\" whispered the Baroness.\n\nA pause followed. The Baron sat looking thoughtfully down into the\nBaroness' face. A moment more, and he might have promised what she\nbesought; a moment more, and he might have been saved all the bitter\ntrouble that was to follow. But it was not to be.\n\nSuddenly a harsh sound broke the quietness of all into a confusion of\nnoises. Dong! Dong!--it was the great alarm-bell from Melchior's Tower.\n\nThe Baron started at the sound. He sat for a moment or two with his hand\nclinched upon the arm of his seat as though about to rise, then he sunk\nback into his chair again.\n\nAll the others had risen tumultuously from the table, and now stood\nlooking at him, awaiting his orders.\n\n\"For my sake, Conrad,\" said the Baroness again.\n\nDong! Dong! rang the alarm-bell. The Baron sat with his eyes bent upon\nthe floor, scowling blackly.\n\nThe Baroness took his hand in both of hers. \"For my sake,\" she pleaded,\nand the tears filled her blue eyes as she looked up at him, \"do not go\nthis time.\"\n\nFrom the courtyard without came the sound of horses' hoofs clashing\nagainst the stone pavement, and those in the hall stood watching and\nwondering at this strange delay of the Lord Baron. Just then the door\nopened and one came pushing past the rest; it was the one-eyed Hans.\nHe came straight to where the Baron sat, and, leaning over, whispered\nsomething into his master's ear.\n\n\"For my sake,\" implored the Baroness again; but the scale was turned.\nThe Baron pushed back his chair heavily and rose to his feet. \"Forward!\"\nhe roared, in a voice of thunder, and a great shout went up in answer as\nhe strode clanking down the hall and out of the open door.\n\nThe Baroness covered her face with her hands and wept.\n\n\"Never mind, little bird,\" said old Ursela, the nurse, soothingly; \"he\nwill come back to thee again as he has come back to thee before.\"\n\nBut the poor young Baroness continued weeping with her face buried in\nher hands, because he had not done that thing she had asked.\n\nA white young face framed in yellow hair looked out into the courtyard\nfrom a window above; but if Baron Conrad of Drachenhausen saw it from\nbeneath the bars of his shining helmet, he made no sign.\n\n\"Forward,\" he cried again.\n\nDown thundered the drawbridge, and away they rode with clashing hoofs\nand ringing armor through the gray shroud of drilling rain.\n\nThe day had passed and the evening had come, and the Baroness and her\nwomen sat beside a roaring fire. All were chattering and talking and\nlaughing but two--the fair young Baroness and old Ursela; the one sat\nlistening, listening, listening, the other sat with her chin resting in\nthe palm of her hand, silently watching her young mistress. The night\nwas falling gray and chill, when suddenly the clear notes of a bugle\nrang from without the castle walls. The young Baroness started, and the\nrosy light flashed up into her pale cheeks.\n\n\"Yes, good,\" said old Ursela; \"the red fox has come back to his den\nagain, and I warrant he brings a fat town goose in his mouth; now we'll\nhave fine clothes to wear, and thou another gold chain to hang about thy\npretty neck.\"\n\nThe young Baroness laughed merrily at the old woman's speech. \"This\ntime,\" said she, \"I will choose a string of pearls like that one my aunt\nused to wear, and which I had about my neck when Conrad first saw me.\"\n\nMinute after minute passed; the Baroness sat nervously playing with a\nbracelet of golden beads about her wrist. \"How long he stays,\" said she.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Ursela; \"but it is not cousin wish that holds him by the\ncoat.\"\n\nAs she spoke, a door banged in the passageway without, and the ring of\niron footsteps sounded upon the stone floor. Clank! Clank! Clank!\n\nThe Baroness rose to her feet, her face all alight. The door opened;\nthen the flush of joy faded away and the face grew white, white, white.\nOne hand clutched the back of the bench whereon she had been sitting,\nthe other hand pressed tightly against her side.\n\nIt was Hans the one-eyed who stood in the doorway, and black trouble sat\non his brow; all were looking at him waiting.\n\n\"Conrad,\" whispered the Baroness, at last. \"Where is Conrad? Where is\nyour master?\" and even her lips were white as she spoke.\n\nThe one-eyed Hans said nothing.\n\nJust then came the noise of men s voices in the corridor and the shuffle\nand scuffle of feet carrying a heavy load. Nearer and nearer they came,\nand one-eyed Hans stood aside. Six men came struggling through the\ndoorway, carrying a litter, and on the litter lay the great Baron\nConrad. The flaming torch thrust into the iron bracket against the wall\nflashed up with the draught of air from the open door, and the light\nfell upon the white face and the closed eyes, and showed upon his body\narmor a great red stain that was not the stain of rust.\n\nSuddenly Ursela cried out in a sharp, shrill voice, \"Catch her, she\nfalls!\"\n\nIt was the Baroness.\n\nThen the old crone turned fiercely upon the one-eyed Hans. \"Thou fool!\"\nshe cried, \"why didst thou bring him here? Thou hast killed thy lady!\"\n\n\"I did not know,\" said the one-eyed Hans, stupidly.\n\n\n\n\nIII. How the Baron came Home Shorn.\n\nBut Baron Conrad was not dead. For days he lay upon his hard bed, now\nmuttering incoherent words beneath his red beard, now raving fiercely\nwith the fever of his wound. But one day he woke again to the things\nabout him.\n\nHe turned his head first to the one side and then to the other; there\nsat Schwartz Carl and the one-eyed Hans. Two or three other retainers\nstood by a great window that looked out into the courtyard beneath,\njesting and laughing together in low tones, and one lay upon the heavy\noaken bench that stood along by the wall snoring in his sleep.\n\n\"Where is your lady?\" said the Baron, presently; \"and why is she not\nwith me at this time?\"\n\nThe man that lay upon the bench started up at the sound of his voice,\nand those at the window came hurrying to his bedside. But Schwartz Carl\nand the one-eyed Hans looked at one another, and neither of them spoke.\nThe Baron saw the look and in it read a certain meaning that brought\nhim to his elbow, though only to sink back upon his pillow again with a\ngroan.\n\n\"Why do you not answer me?\" said he at last, in a hollow voice; then\nto the one-eyed Hans, \"Hast no tongue, fool, that thou standest gaping\nthere like a fish? Answer me, where is thy mistress?\"\n\n\"I--I do not know,\" stammered poor Hans.\n\nFor a while the Baron lay silently looking from one face to the other,\nthen he spoke again. \"How long have I been lying here?\" said he.\n\n\"A sennight, my lord,\" said Master Rudolph, the steward, who had come\ninto the room and who now stood among the others at the bedside.\n\n\"A sennight,\" repeated the Baron, in a low voice, and then to Master\nRudolph, \"And has the Baroness been often beside me in that time?\"\nMaster Rudolph hesitated. \"Answer me,\" said the Baron, harshly.\n\n\"Not--not often,\" said Master Rudolph, hesitatingly.\n\nThe Baron lay silent for a long time. At last he passed his hands over\nhis face and held them there for a minute, then of a sudden, before\nanyone knew what he was about to do, he rose upon his elbow and then sat\nupright upon the bed. The green wound broke out afresh and a dark red\nspot grew and spread upon the linen wrappings; his face was drawn and\nhaggard with the pain of his moving, and his eyes wild and bloodshot.\nGreat drops of sweat gathered and stood upon his forehead as he sat\nthere swaying slightly from side to side.\n\n\"My shoes,\" said he, hoarsely.\n\nMaster Rudolph stepped forward. \"But, my Lord Baron,\" he began and then\nstopped short, for the Baron shot him such a look that his tongue stood\nstill in his head.\n\nHans saw that look out of his one eye. Down he dropped upon his knees\nand, fumbling under the bed, brought forth a pair of soft leathern\nshoes, which he slipped upon the Baron's feet and then laced the thongs\nabove the instep.\n\n\"Your shoulder,\" said the Baron. He rose slowly to his feet, gripping\nHans in the stress of his agony until the fellow winced again. For a\nmoment he stood as though gathering strength, then doggedly started\nforth upon that quest which he had set upon himself.\n\nAt the door he stopped for a moment as though overcome by his weakness,\nand there Master Nicholas, his cousin, met him; for the steward had sent\none of the retainers to tell the old man what the Baron was about to do.\n\n\"Thou must go back again, Conrad,\" said Master Nicholas; \"thou art not\nfit to be abroad.\"\n\nThe Baron answered him never a word, but he glared at him from out of\nhis bloodshot eyes and ground his teeth together. Then he started forth\nagain upon his way.\n\nDown the long hall he went, slowly and laboriously, the others following\nsilently behind him, then up the steep winding stairs, step by step,\nnow and then stopping to lean against the wall. So he reached a long\nand gloomy passageway lit only by the light of a little window at the\nfurther end.\n\nHe stopped at the door of one of the rooms that opened into this\npassage-way, stood for a moment, then he pushed it open.\n\nNo one was within but old Ursela, who sat crooning over a fire with a\nbundle upon her knees. She did not see the Baron or know that he was\nthere.\n\n\"Where is your lady?\" said he, in a hollow voice.\n\nThen the old nurse looked up with a start. \"Jesu bless us,\" cried she,\nand crossed herself.\n\n\"Where is your lady?\" said the Baron again, in the same hoarse voice;\nand then, not waiting for an answer, \"Is she dead?\"\n\nThe old woman looked at him for a minute blinking her watery eyes, and\nthen suddenly broke into a shrill, long-drawn wail. The Baron needed to\nhear no more.\n\nAs though in answer to the old woman's cry, a thin piping complaint came\nfrom the bundle in her lap.\n\nAt the sound the red blood flashed up into the Baron's face. \"What\nis that you have there?\" said he, pointing to the bundle upon the old\nwoman's knees.\n\nShe drew back the coverings and there lay a poor, weak, little baby,\nthat once again raised its faint reedy pipe.\n\n\"It is your son,\" said Ursela, \"that the dear Baroness left behind her\nwhen the holy angels took her to Paradise. She blessed him and called\nhim Otto before she left us.\"\n\n\n\n\nIV. The White Cross on the Hill.\n\nHere the glassy waters of the River Rhine, holding upon its bosom a\nmimic picture of the blue sky and white clouds floating above, runs\nsmoothly around a jutting point of land, St. Michaelsburg, rising from\nthe reedy banks of the stream, sweeps up with a smooth swell until\nit cuts sharp and clear against the sky. Stubby vineyards covered its\nearthy breast, and field and garden and orchard crowned its brow, where\nlay the Monastery of St. Michaelsburg--\"The White Cross on the Hill.\"\nThere within the white walls, where the warm yellow sunlight slept, all\nwas peaceful quietness, broken only now and then by the crowing of\nthe cock or the clamorous cackle of a hen, the lowing of kine or the\nbleating of goats, a solitary voice in prayer, the faint accord of\ndistant singing, or the resonant toll of the monastery bell from the\nhigh-peaked belfry that overlooked the hill and valley and the smooth,\nfar-winding stream. No other sounds broke the stillness, for in this\npeaceful haven was never heard the clash of armor, the ring of iron-shod\nhoofs, or the hoarse call to arms.\n\nAll men were not wicked and cruel and fierce in that dark, far-away age;\nall were not robbers and terror-spreading tyrants, even in that time\nwhen men's hands were against their neighbors, and war and rapine dwelt\nin place of peace and justice.\n\nAbbot Otto, of St. Michaelsburg, was a gentle, patient, pale-faced old\nman; his white hands were soft and smooth, and no one would have thought\nthat they could have known the harsh touch of sword-hilt and lance. And\nyet, in the days of the Emperor Frederick--the grandson of the great\nRed-beard--no one stood higher in the prowess of arms than he. But all\nat once--for why, no man could tell--a change came over him, and in the\nflower of his youth and fame and growing power he gave up everything\nin life and entered the quiet sanctuary of that white monastery on the\nhill-side, so far away from the tumult and the conflict of the world in\nwhich he had lived.\n\nSome said that it was because the lady he had loved had loved his\nbrother, and that when they were married Otto of Wolbergen had left the\nchurch with a broken heart.\n\nBut such stories are old songs that have been sung before.\n\nClatter! clatter! Jingle! jingle! It was a full-armed knight that came\nriding up the steep hill road that wound from left to right and right to\nleft amid the vineyards on the slopes of St. Michaelsburg. Polished helm\nand corselet blazed in the noon sunlight, for no knight in those days\ndared to ride the roads except in full armor. In front of him the\nsolitary knight carried a bundle wrapped in the folds of his coarse gray\ncloak.\n\nIt was a sorely sick man that rode up the heights of St. Michaelsburg.\nHis head hung upon his breast through the faintness of weariness and\npain; for it was the Baron Conrad.\n\nHe had left his bed of sickness that morning, had saddled his horse in\nthe gray dawn with his own hands, and had ridden away into the misty\ntwilight of the forest without the knowledge of anyone excepting the\nporter, who, winking and blinking in the bewilderment of his broken\nslumber, had opened the gates to the sick man, hardly knowing what he\nwas doing, until he beheld his master far away, clattering down the\nsteep bridle-path.\n\nEight leagues had he ridden that day with neither a stop nor a stay; but\nnow at last the end of his journey had come, and he drew rein under the\nshade of the great wooden gateway of St. Michaelsburg.\n\nHe reached up to the knotted rope and gave it a pull, and from within\nsounded the answering ring of the porter's bell. By and by a little\nwicket opened in the great wooden portals, and the gentle, wrinkled face\nof old Brother Benedict, the porter, peeped out at the strange iron-clad\nvisitor and the great black war-horse, streaked and wet with the sweat\nof the journey, flecked and dappled with flakes of foam. A few words\npassed between them, and then the little window was closed again; and\nwithin, the shuffling pat of the sandalled feet sounded fainter and\nfainter, as Brother Benedict bore the message from Baron Conrad to Abbot\nOtto, and the mail-clad figure was left alone, sitting there as silent\nas a statue.\n\nBy and by the footsteps sounded again; there came a noise of clattering\nchains and the rattle of the key in the lock, and the rasping of the\nbolts dragged back. Then the gate swung slowly open, and Baron Conrad\nrode into the shelter of the White Cross, and as the hoofs of his\nwar-horse clashed upon the stones of the courtyard within, the wooden\ngate swung slowly to behind him.\n\nAbbot Otto stood by the table when Baron Conrad entered the high-vaulted\nroom from the farther end. The light from the oriel window behind the\nold man shed broken rays of light upon him, and seemed to frame his thin\ngray hairs with a golden glory. His white, delicate hand rested upon the\ntable beside him, and upon some sheets of parchment covered with rows of\nancient Greek writing which he had been engaged in deciphering.\n\nClank! clank! clank! Baron Conrad strode across the stone floor, and\nthen stopped short in front of the good old man.\n\n\"What dost thou seek here, my son?\" said the Abbot.\n\n\"I seek sanctuary for my son and thy brother's grandson,\" said the Baron\nConrad, and he flung back the folds of his cloak and showed the face of\nthe sleeping babe.\n\nFor a while the Abbot said nothing, but stood gazing dreamily at\nthe baby. After a while he looked up. \"And the child's mother,\" said\nhe--\"what hath she to say at this?\"\n\n\"She hath naught to say,\" said Baron Conrad, hoarsely, and then stopped\nshort in his speech. \"She is dead,\" said he, at last, in a husky voice,\n\"and is with God's angels in paradise.\"\n\nThe Abbot looked intently in the Baron's face. \"So!\" said he, under his\nbreath, and then for the first time noticed how white and drawn was the\nBaron's face. \"Art sick thyself?\" he asked.\n\n\"Ay,\" said the Baron, \"I have come from death's door. But that is no\nmatter. Wilt thou take this little babe into sanctuary? My house is a\nvile, rough place, and not fit for such as he, and his mother with the\nblessed saints in heaven.\" And once more Conrad of Drachenhausen's face\nbegan twitching with the pain of his thoughts.\n\n\"Yes,\" said the old man, gently, \"he shall live here,\" and he stretched\nout his hands and took the babe. \"Would,\" said he, \"that all the little\nchildren in these dark times might be thus brought to the house of God,\nand there learn mercy and peace, instead of rapine and war.\"\n\nFor a while he stood looking down in silence at the baby in his arms,\nbut with his mind far away upon other things. At last he roused himself\nwith a start. \"And thou,\" said he to the Baron Conrad--\"hath not thy\nheart been chastened and softened by this? Surely thou wilt not go back\nto thy old life of rapine and extortion?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Baron Conrad, gruffly, \"I will rob the city swine no longer,\nfor that was the last thing that my dear one asked of me.\"\n\nThe old Abbot's face lit up with a smile. \"I am right glad that thy\nheart was softened, and that thou art willing at last to cease from war\nand violence.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" cried the Baron, roughly, \"I said nothing of ceasing from war. By\nheaven, no! I will have revenge!\" And he clashed his iron foot upon the\nfloor and clinched his fists and ground his teeth together. \"Listen,\"\nsaid he, \"and I will tell thee how my troubles happened. A fortnight ago\nI rode out upon an expedition against a caravan of fat burghers in the\nvalley of Gruenhoffen. They outnumbered us many to one, but city swine\nsuch as they are not of the stuff to stand against our kind for a long\ntime. Nevertheless, while the men-at-arms who guarded the caravan were\nstaying us with pike and cross-bow from behind a tree which they had\nfelled in front of a high bridge the others had driven the pack-horses\noff, so that by the time we had forced the bridge they were a league\nor more away. We pushed after them as hard as we were able, but when we\ncame up with them we found that they had been joined by Baron Frederick\nof Trutz-Drachen, to whom for three years and more the burghers of\nGruenstadt have been paying a tribute for his protection against others.\nThen again they made a stand, and this time the Baron Frederick himself\nwas with them. But though the dogs fought well, we were forcing them\nback, and might have got the better of them, had not my horse stumbled\nupon a sloping stone, and so fell and rolled over upon me. While I lay\nthere with my horse upon me, Baron Frederick ran me down with his lance,\nand gave me that foul wound that came so near to slaying me--and did\nslay my dear wife. Nevertheless, my men were able to bring me out from\nthat press and away, and we had bitten the Trutz-Drachen dogs so deep\nthat they were too sore to follow us, and so let us go our way in peace.\nBut when those fools of mine brought me to my castle they bore me lying\nupon a litter to my wife's chamber. There she beheld me, and, thinking\nme dead, swooned a death-swoon, so that she only lived long enough to\nbless her new-born babe and name it Otto, for you, her father's brother.\nBut, by heavens! I will have revenge, root and branch, upon that vile\ntribe, the Roderburgs of Trutz-Drachen. Their great-grandsire built that\ncastle in scorn of Baron Casper in the old days; their grandsire slew my\nfather's grandsire; Baron Nicholas slew two of our kindred; and now this\nBaron Frederick gives me that foul wound and kills my dear wife through\nmy body.\" Here the Baron stopped short; then of a sudden, shaking his\nfist above his head, he cried out in his hoarse voice: \"I swear by all\nthe saints in heaven, either the red cock shall crow over the roof of\nTrutz-Drachen or else it shall crow over my house! The black dog shall\nsit on Baron Frederick's shoulders or else he shall sit on mine!\" Again\nhe stopped, and fixing his blazing eyes upon the old man, \"Hearest thou\nthat, priest?\" said he, and broke into a great boisterous laugh.\n\nAbbot Otto sighed heavily, but he tried no further to persuade the other\ninto different thoughts.\n\n\"Thou art wounded,\" said he, at last, in a gentle voice; \"at least stay\nhere with us until thou art healed.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said the Baron, roughly, \"I will tarry no longer than to hear\nthee promise to care for my child.\"\n\n\"I promise,\" said the Abbot; \"but lay aside thy armor, and rest.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said the Baron, \"I go back again to-day.\"\n\nAt this the Abbot cried out in amazement: \"Sure thou, wounded man, would\nnot take that long journey without a due stay for resting! Think! Night\nwill be upon thee before thou canst reach home again, and the forests\nare beset with wolves.\"\n\nThe Baron laughed. \"Those are not the wolves I fear,\" said he. \"Urge me\nno further, I must return to-night; yet if thou hast a mind to do me a\nkindness thou canst give me some food to eat and a flask of your golden\nMichaelsburg; beyond these, I ask no further favor of any man, be he\npriest or layman.\"\n\n\"What comfort I can give thee thou shalt have,\" said the Abbot, in his\npatient voice, and so left the room to give the needful orders, bearing\nthe babe with him.\n\n\n\n\nV. How Otto Dwelt at St. Michaelsburg.\n\nSo the poor, little, motherless waif lived among the old monks at the\nWhite Cross on the hill, thriving and growing apace until he had reached\neleven or twelve years of age; a slender, fair-haired little fellow,\nwith a strange, quiet serious manner.\n\n\"Poor little child!\" Old Brother Benedict would sometimes say to the\nothers, \"poor little child! The troubles in which he was born must have\nbroken his wits like a glass cup. What think ye he said to me to-day?\n'Dear Brother Benedict,' said he, 'dost thou shave the hair off of the\ntop of thy head so that the dear God may see thy thoughts the better?'\nThink of that now!\" and the good old man shook with silent laughter.\n\nWhen such talk came to the good Father Abbot's ears, he smiled quietly\nto himself. \"It may be,\" said he, \"that the wisdom of little children\nflies higher than our heavy wits can follow.\"\n\nAt least Otto was not slow with his studies, and Brother Emmanuel,\nwho taught him his lessons, said more than once that, if his wits were\ncracked in other ways, they were sound enough in Latin.\n\nOtto, in a quaint, simple way which belonged to him, was gentle\nand obedient to all. But there was one among the Brethren of St.\nMichaelsburg whom he loved far above all the rest--Brother John, a poor\nhalf-witted fellow, of some twenty-five or thirty years of age. When\na very little child, he had fallen from his nurse's arms and hurt his\nhead, and as he grew up into boyhood, and showed that his wits had been\naddled by his fall, his family knew not what else to do with him, and\nso sent him off to the Monastery of St. Michaelsburg, where he lived\nhis simple, witless life upon a sort of sufferance, as though he were a\ntame, harmless animal.\n\nWhile Otto was still a little baby, he had been given into Brother\nJohn's care. Thereafter, and until Otto had grown old enough to care for\nhimself, poor Brother John never left his little charge, night or day.\nOftentimes the good Father Abbot, coming into the garden, where he loved\nto walk alone in his meditations, would find the poor, simple Brother\nsitting under the shade of the pear-tree, close to the bee-hives,\nrocking the little baby in his arms, singing strange, crazy songs to\nit, and gazing far away into the blue, empty sky with his curious, pale\neyes.\n\nAlthough, as Otto grew up into boyhood, his lessons and his tasks\nseparated him from Brother John, the bond between them seemed to grow\nstronger rather than weaker. During the hours that Otto had for his own\nthey were scarcely ever apart. Down in the vineyard, where the monks\nwere gathering the grapes for the vintage, in the garden, or in the\nfields, the two were always seen together, either wandering hand in\nhand, or seated in some shady nook or corner.\n\nBut most of all they loved to lie up in the airy wooden belfry; the\ngreat gaping bell hanging darkly above them, the mouldering cross-beams\nglimmering far up under the dim shadows of the roof, where dwelt a great\nbrown owl that, unfrightened at their familiar presence, stared down at\nthem with his round, solemn eyes. Below them stretched the white walls\nof the garden, beyond them the vineyard, and beyond that again the far\nshining river, that seemed to Otto's mind to lead into wonder-land.\nThere the two would lie upon the belfry floor by the hour, talking\ntogether of the strangest things.\n\n\"I saw the dear Angel Gabriel again yester morn,\" said Brother John.\n\n\"So!\" says Otto, seriously; \"and where was that?\"\n\n\"It was out in the garden, in the old apple-tree,\" said Brother John. \"I\nwas walking there, and my wits were running around in the grass like a\nmouse. What heard I but a wonderful sound of singing, and it was like\nthe hum of a great bee, only sweeter than honey. So I looked up into the\ntree, and there I saw two sparks. I thought at first that they were\ntwo stars that had fallen out of heaven; but what think you they were,\nlittle child?\"\n\n\"I do not know,\" said Otto, breathlessly.\n\n\"They were angel's eyes,\" said Brother John; and he smiled in the\nstrangest way, as he gazed up into the blue sky. \"So I looked at the two\nsparks and felt happy, as one does in spring time when the cold weather\nis gone, and the warm sun shines, and the cuckoo sings again. Then,\nby-and-by, I saw the face to which the eyes belonged. First, it shone\nwhite and thin like the moon in the daylight; but it grew brighter and\nbrighter, until it hurt one's eyes to look at it, as though it had been\nthe blessed sun itself. Angel Gabriel's hand was as white as silver, and\nin it he held a green bough with blossoms, like those that grow on the\nthorn bush. As for his robe, it was all of one piece, and finer than the\nFather Abbot's linen, and shone beside like the sunlight on pure snow.\nSo I knew from all these things that it was the blessed Angel Gabriel.\"\n\n\"What do they say about this tree, Brother John?\" said he to me.\n\n\"They say it is dying, my Lord Angel,\" said I, \"and that the gardener\nwill bring a sharp axe and cut it down.\"\n\n\"'And what dost thou say about it, Brother John?' said he.\"\n\n\"'I also say yes, and that it is dying,' said I.\"\n\n\"At that he smiled until his face shone so bright that I had to shut my\neyes.\"\n\n\"'Now I begin to believe, Brother John, that thou art as foolish as men\nsay,' said he. 'Look, till I show thee.' And thereat I opened mine eyes\nagain.\"\n\n\"Then Angel Gabriel touched the dead branches with the flowery twig that\nhe held in his hand, and there was the dead wood all covered with green\nleaves, and fair blossoms and beautiful apples as yellow as gold. Each\nsmelling more sweetly than a garden of flowers, and better to the taste\nthan white bread and honey.\n\n\"'They are souls of the apples,' said the good Angel,' and they can\nnever wither and die.'\n\n\"'Then I'll tell the gardener that he shall not cut the tree down,' said\nI.\"\n\n\"'No, no,' said the dear Gabriel, 'that will never do, for if the tree\nis not cut down here on the earth, it can never be planted in paradise.'\"\n\nHere Brother John stopped short in his story, and began singing one of\nhis crazy songs, as he gazed with his pale eyes far away into nothing at\nall.\n\n\"But tell me, Brother John,\" said little Otto, in a hushed voice, \"what\nelse did the good Angel say to thee?\"\n\nBrother John stopped short in his song and began looking from right to\nleft, and up and down, as though to gather his wits.\n\n\"So!\" said he, \"there was something else that he told me. Tschk! If I\ncould but think now. Yes, good! This is it--'Nothing that has lived,'\nsaid he, 'shall ever die, and nothing that has died shall ever live.'\"\n\nOtto drew a deep breath. \"I would that I might see the beautiful Angel\nGabriel sometime,\" said he; but Brother John was singing again and did\nnot seem to hear what he said.\n\nNext to Brother John, the nearest one to the little child was the good\nAbbot Otto, for though he had never seen wonderful things with the eyes\nof his soul, such as Brother John's had beheld, and so could not tell of\nthem, he was yet able to give little Otto another pleasure that no one\nelse could give.\n\nHe was a great lover of books, the old Abbot, and had under lock and key\nwonderful and beautiful volumes, bound in hog-skin and metal, and with\ncovers inlaid with carved ivory, or studded with precious stones. But\nwithin these covers, beautiful as they were, lay the real wonder of the\nbooks, like the soul in the body; for there, beside the black letters\nand initials, gay with red and blue and gold, were beautiful pictures\npainted upon the creamy parchment. Saints and Angels, the Blessed Virgin\nwith the golden oriole about her head, good St. Joseph, the three Kings;\nthe simple Shepherds kneeling in the fields, while Angels with glories\nabout their brow called to the poor Peasants from the blue sky above.\nBut, most beautiful of all was the picture of the Christ Child lying in\nthe manger, with the mild-eyed Kine gazing at him.\n\nSometimes the old Abbot would unlock the iron-bound chest where these\ntreasures lay hidden, and carefully and lovingly brushing the few grains\nof dust from them, would lay them upon the table beside the oriel window\nin front of his little namesake, allowing the little boy freedom to turn\nthe leaves as he chose.\n\nAlways it was one picture that little Otto sought; the Christ Child in\nthe manger, with the Virgin, St. Joseph, the Shepherds, and the Kine.\nAnd as he would hang breathlessly gazing and gazing upon it, the old\nAbbot would sit watching him with a faint, half-sad smile flickering\naround his thin lips and his pale, narrow face.\n\nIt was a pleasant, peaceful life, but by-and-by the end came. Otto was\nnow nearly twelve years old.\n\nOne bright, clear day, near the hour of noon, little Otto heard the\nporter's bell sounding below in the court-yard--dong! dong! Brother\nEmmanuel had been appointed as the boy's instructor, and just then Otto\nwas conning his lessons in the good monk's cell. Nevertheless, at the\nsound of the bell he pricked up his ears and listened, for a visitor was\na strange matter in that out-of-the-way place, and he wondered who it\ncould be. So, while his wits wandered his lessons lagged.\n\n\"Postera Phoeba lustrabat lampade terras,\" continued Brother Emmanuel,\ninexorably running his horny finger-nail beneath the line, \"humentemque\nAurora polo dimoverat umbram--\" the lesson dragged along.\n\nJust then a sandaled footstep sounded without, in the stone corridor,\nand a light tap fell upon Brother Emmanuel's door. It was Brother\nIgnatius, and the Abbot wished little Otto to come to the refectory.\n\nAs they crossed the court-yard Otto stared to see a group of mail-clad\nmen-at-arms, some sitting upon their horses, some standing by the\nsaddle-bow. \"Yonder is the young baron,\" he heard one of them say in a\ngruff voice, and thereupon all turned and stared at him.\n\nA stranger was in the refectory, standing beside the good old Abbot,\nwhile food and wine were being brought and set upon the table for his\nrefreshment; a great, tall, broad-shouldered man, beside whom the Abbot\nlooked thinner and slighter than ever.\n\nThe stranger was clad all in polished and gleaming armor, of plate and\nchain, over which was drawn a loose robe of gray woollen stuff, reaching\nto the knees and bound about the waist by a broad leathern sword-belt.\nUpon his arm he carried a great helmet which he had just removed from\nhis head. His face was weather-beaten and rugged, and on lip and chin\nwas a wiry, bristling beard; once red, now frosted with white.\n\nBrother Ignatius had bidden Otto to enter, and had then closed the door\nbehind him; and now, as the lad walked slowly up the long room, he gazed\nwith round, wondering blue eyes at the stranger.\n\n\"Dost know who I am, Otto? said the mail-clad knight, in a deep,\ngrowling voice.\n\n\"Methinks you are my father, sir,\" said Otto.\n\n\"Aye, thou art right,\" said Baron Conrad, \"and I am glad to see that\nthese milk-churning monks have not allowed thee to forget me, and who\nthou art thyself.\"\n\n\"An' it please you,\" said Otto, \"no one churneth milk here but\nBrother Fritz; we be makers of wine and not makers of butter, at St.\nMichaelsburg.\"\n\nBaron Conrad broke into a great, loud laugh, but Abbot Otto's sad and\nthoughtful face lit up with no shadow of an answering smile.\n\n\"Conrad,\" said he, turning to the other, \"again let me urge thee; do\nnot take the child hence, his life can never be your life, for he is not\nfitted for it. I had thought,\" said he, after a moment's pause, \"I had\nthought that thou hadst meant to consecrate him--this motherless one--to\nthe care of the Universal Mother Church.\"\n\n\"So!\" said the Baron, \"thou hadst thought that, hadst thou? Thou hadst\nthought that I had intended to deliver over this boy, the last of the\nVuelphs, to the arms of the Church? What then was to become of our name\nand the glory of our race if it was to end with him in a monastery? No,\nDrachenhausen is the home of the Vuelphs, and there the last of the race\nshall live as his sires have lived before him, holding to his rights by\nthe power and the might of his right hand.\"\n\nThe Abbot turned and looked at the boy, who was gaping in simple\nwide-eyed wonderment from one to the other as they spoke.\n\n\"And dost thou think, Conrad,\" said the old man, in his gentle, patient\nvoice, \"that that poor child can maintain his rights by the strength of\nhis right hand?\"\n\nThe Baron's look followed the Abbot's, and he said nothing.\n\nIn the few seconds of silence that followed, little Otto, in his simple\nmind, was wondering what all this talk portended. Why had his father\ncome hither to St. Michaelsburg, lighting up the dim silence of the\nmonastery with the flash and ring of his polished armor? Why had he\ntalked about churning butter but now, when all the world knew that the\nmonks of St. Michaelsburg made wine.\n\nIt was Baron Conrad's deep voice that broke the little pause of silence.\n\n\"If you have made a milkmaid of the boy,\" he burst out at last, \"I thank\nthe dear heaven that there is yet time to undo your work and to make a\nman of him.\"\n\nThe Abbot sighed. \"The child is yours, Conrad,\" said he, \"the will of\nthe blessed saints be done. Mayhap if he goes to dwell at Drachenhausen\nhe may make you the better instead of you making him the worse.\"\n\nThen light came to the darkness of little Otto's wonderment; he saw what\nall this talk meant and why his father had come hither. He was to leave\nthe happy, sunny silence of the dear White Cross, and to go out into\nthat great world that he had so often looked down upon from the high\nwindy belfry on the steep hillside.\n\n\n\n\nVI. How Otto Lived in the Dragon's House.\n\nThe gates of the Monastery stood wide open, the world lay beyond, and\nall was ready for departure. Baron Conrad and his men-at-arms sat foot\nin stirrup, the milk-white horse that had been brought for Otto stood\nwaiting for him beside his father's great charger.\n\n\"Farewell, Otto,\" said the good old Abbot, as he stooped and kissed the\nboy's cheek.\n\n\"Farewell,\" answered Otto, in his simple, quiet way, and it brought\na pang to the old man's heart that the child should seem to grieve so\nlittle at the leave-taking.\n\n\"Farewell, Otto,\" said the brethren that stood about, \"farewell,\nfarewell.\"\n\nThen poor brother John came forward and took the boy's hand, and looked\nup into his face as he sat upon his horse. \"We will meet again,\" said\nhe, with his strange, vacant smile, \"but maybe it will be in Paradise,\nand there perhaps they will let us lie in the father's belfry, and look\ndown upon the angels in the court-yard below.\"\n\n\"Aye,\" answered Otto, with an answering smile.\n\n\"Forward,\" cried the Baron, in a deep voice, and with a clash of hoofs\nand jingle of armor they were gone, and the great wooden gates were shut\nto behind them.\n\nDown the steep winding pathway they rode, and out into the great wide\nworld beyond, upon which Otto and brother John had gazed so often from\nthe wooden belfry of the White Cross on the hill.\n\n\"Hast been taught to ride a horse by the priests up yonder on\nMichaelsburg?\" asked the Baron, when they had reached the level road.\n\n\"Nay,\" said Otto; \"we had no horse to ride, but only to bring in the\nharvest or the grapes from the further vineyards to the vintage.\"\n\n\"Prut,\" said the Baron, \"methought the abbot would have had enough of\nthe blood of old days in his veins to have taught thee what is fitting\nfor a knight to know; art not afeared?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Otto, with a smile, \"I am not afeared.\"\n\n\"There at least thou showest thyself a Vuelph,\" said the grim Baron. But\nperhaps Otto's thought of fear and Baron Conrad's thought of fear were\ntwo very different matters.\n\nThe afternoon had passed by the time they had reached the end of their\njourney. Up the steep, stony path they rode to the drawbridge and\nthe great gaping gateway of Drachenhausen, where wall and tower and\nbattlement looked darker and more forbidding than ever in the gray\ntwilight of the coming night. Little Otto looked up with great,\nwondering, awe-struck eyes at this grim new home of his.\n\nThe next moment they clattered over the drawbridge that spanned the\nnarrow black gulph between the roadway and the wall, and the next were\npast the echoing arch of the great gateway and in the gray gloaming of\nthe paved court-yard within.\n\nOtto looked around upon the many faces gathered there to catch the\nfirst sight of the little baron; hard, rugged faces, seamed and\nweather-beaten; very different from those of the gentle brethren among\nwhom he had lived, and it seemed strange to him that there was none\nthere whom he should know.\n\nAs he climbed the steep, stony steps to the door of the Baron's house,\nold Ursela came running down to meet him. She flung her withered arms\naround him and hugged him close to her. \"My little child,\" she cried,\nand then fell to sobbing as though her heart would break.\n\n\"Here is someone knoweth me,\" thought the little boy.\n\nHis new home was all very strange and wonderful to Otto; the armors, the\ntrophies, the flags, the long galleries with their ranges of rooms,\nthe great hall below with its vaulted roof and its great fireplace of\ngrotesquely carved stone, and all the strange people with their lives\nand thoughts so different from what he had been used to know.\n\nAnd it was a wonderful thing to explore all the strange places in the\ndark old castle; places where it seemed to Otto no one could have ever\nbeen before.\n\nOnce he wandered down a long, dark passageway below the hall, pushed\nopen a narrow, iron-bound oaken door, and found himself all at once in\na strange new land; the gray light, coming in through a range of tall,\nnarrow windows, fell upon a row of silent, motionless figures carven in\nstone, knights and ladies in strange armor and dress; each lying upon\nhis or her stony couch with clasped hands, and gazing with fixed,\nmotionless, stony eyeballs up into the gloomy, vaulted arch above them.\nThere lay, in a cold, silent row, all of the Vuelphs who had died since\nthe ancient castle had been built.\n\nIt was the chapel into which Otto had made his way, now long since\nfallen out of use excepting as a burial place of the race.\n\nAt another time he clambered up into the loft under the high peaked\nroof, where lay numberless forgotten things covered with the dim dust\nof years. There a flock of pigeons had made their roost, and flapped\nnoisily out into the sunlight when he pushed open the door from below.\nHere he hunted among the mouldering things of the past until, oh, joy\nof joys! in an ancient oaken chest he found a great lot of worm-eaten\nbooks, that had belonged to some old chaplain of the castle in days gone\nby. They were not precious and beautiful volumes, such as the Father\nAbbot had showed him, but all the same they had their quaint painted\npictures of the blessed saints and angels.\n\nAgain, at another time, going into the court-yard, Otto had found\nthe door of Melchior's tower standing invitingly open, for old Hilda,\nSchwartz Carl's wife, had come down below upon some business or other.\n\nThen upon the shaky wooden steps Otto ran without waiting for a second\nthought, for he had often gazed at those curious buildings hanging so\nfar up in the air, and had wondered what they were like. Round and round\nand up and up Otto climbed, until his head spun. At last he reached\na landing-stage, and gazing over the edge and down, beheld the stone\npavement far, far below, lit by a faint glimmer of light that entered\nthrough the arched doorway. Otto clutched tight hold of the wooden rail,\nhe had no thought that he had climbed so far.\n\nUpon the other side of the landing was a window that pierced the thick\nstone walls of the tower; out of the window he looked, and then drew\nsuddenly back again with a gasp, for it was through the outer wall he\npeered, and down, down below in the dizzy depths he saw the hard\ngray rocks, where the black swine, looking no larger than ants in the\ndistance, fed upon the refuse thrown out over the walls of the castle.\nThere lay the moving tree-tops like a billowy green sea, and the coarse\nthatched roofs of the peasant cottages, round which crawled the little\nchildren like tiny human specks.\n\nThen Otto turned and crept down the stairs, frightened at the height to\nwhich he had climbed.\n\nAt the doorway he met Mother Hilda. \"Bless us,\" she cried, starting back\nand crossing herself, and then, seeing who it was, ducked him a courtesy\nwith as pleasant a smile as her forbidding face, with its little\ndeep-set eyes, was able to put upon itself.\n\nOld Ursela seemed nearer to the boy than anyone else about the castle,\nexcepting it was his father, and it was a newfound delight to Otto to\nsit beside her and listen to her quaint stories, so different from the\nmonkish tales that he had heard and read at the monastery.\n\nBut one day it was a tale of a different sort that she told him, and one\nthat opened his eyes to what he had never dreamed of before.\n\nThe mellow sunlight fell through the window upon old Ursela, as she sat\nin the warmth with her distaff in her hands while Otto lay close to her\nfeet upon a bear skin, silently thinking over the strange story of a\nbrave knight and a fiery dragon that she had just told him. Suddenly\nUrsela broke the silence.\n\n\"Little one,\" said she, \"thou art wondrously like thy own dear mother;\ndidst ever hear how she died?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Otto, \"but tell me, Ursela, how it was.\"\n\n\"Tis strange,\" said the old woman, \"that no one should have told thee\nin all this time.\" And then, in her own fashion she related to him the\nstory of how his father had set forth upon that expedition in spite of\nall that Otto's mother had said, beseeching him to abide at home; how he\nhad been foully wounded, and how the poor lady had died from her fright\nand grief.\n\nOtto listened with eyes that grew wider and wider, though not all with\nwonder; he no longer lay upon the bear skin, but sat up with his hands\nclasped. For a moment or two after the old woman had ended her story, he\nsat staring silently at her. Then he cried out, in a sharp voice, \"And\nis this truth that you tell me, Ursela? and did my father seek to rob\nthe towns people of their goods?\"\n\nOld Ursela laughed. \"Aye,\" said she, \"that he did and many times. Ah!\nme, those day's are all gone now.\" And she fetched a deep sigh. \"Then we\nlived in plenty and had both silks and linens and velvets besides in the\nstore closets and were able to buy good wines and live in plenty upon\nthe best. Now we dress in frieze and live upon what we can get and\nsometimes that is little enough, with nothing better than sour beer to\ndrink. But there is one comfort in it all, and that is that our good\nBaron paid back the score he owed the Trutz-Drachen people not only for\nthat, but for all that they had done from the very first.\"\n\nThereupon she went on to tell Otto how Baron Conrad had fulfilled the\npledge of revenge that he had made Abbot Otto, how he had watched day\nafter day until one time he had caught the Trutz-Drachen folk,\nwith Baron Frederick at their head, in a narrow defile back of the\nKaiserburg; of the fierce fight that was there fought; of how the\nRoderburgs at last fled, leaving Baron Frederick behind them wounded; of\nhow he had kneeled before the Baron Conrad, asking for mercy, and of\nhow Baron Conrad had answered, \"Aye, thou shalt have such mercy as thou\ndeservest,\" and had therewith raised his great two-handed sword and laid\nhis kneeling enemy dead at one blow.\n\nPoor little Otto had never dreamed that such cruelty and wickedness\ncould be. He listened to the old woman's story with gaping horror, and\nwhen the last came and she told him, with a smack of her lips, how his\nfather had killed his enemy with his own hand, he gave a gasping cry and\nsprang to his feet. Just then the door at the other end of the chamber\nwas noisily opened, and Baron Conrad himself strode into the room.\nOtto turned his head, and seeing who it was, gave another cry, loud and\nquavering, and ran to his father and caught him by the hand.\n\n\"Oh, father!\" he cried, \"oh, father! Is it true that thou hast killed a\nman with thy own hand?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said the Baron, grimly, \"it is true enough, and I think me I have\nkilled many more than one. But what of that, Otto? Thou must get out of\nthose foolish notions that the old monks have taught thee. Here in the\nworld it is different from what it is at St. Michaelsburg; here a man\nmust either slay or be slain.\"\n\nBut poor little Otto, with his face hidden in his father's robe, cried\nas though his heart would break. \"Oh, father!\" he said, again and again,\n\"it cannot be--it cannot be that thou who art so kind to me should have\nkilled a man with thine own hands.\" Then: \"I wish that I were back\nin the monastery again; I am afraid out here in the great wide world;\nperhaps somebody may kill me, for I am only a weak little boy and could\nnot save my own life if they chose to take it from me.\"\n\nBaron Conrad looked down upon Otto all this while, drawing his bushy\neyebrows together. Once he reached out his hand as though to stroke the\nboy's hair, but drew it back again.\n\nTurning angrily upon the old woman, \"Ursela,\" said he, \"thou must tell\nthe child no more such stories as these; he knowest not at all of such\nthings as yet. Keep thy tongue busy with the old woman's tales that he\nloves to hear thee tell, and leave it with me to teach him what becometh\na true knight and a Vuelph.\"\n\nThat night the father and son sat together beside the roaring fire in\nthe great ball. \"Tell me, Otto,\" said the Baron, \"dost thou hate me for\nhaving done what Ursela told thee today that I did?\"\n\nOtto looked for a while into his father's face. \"I know not,\" said he at\nlast, in his quaint, quiet voice, \"but methinks that I do not hate thee\nfor it.\"\n\nThe Baron drew his bushy brows together until his eyes twinkled out of\nthe depths beneath them, then of a sudden he broke into a great loud\nlaugh, smiting his horny palm with a smack upon his thigh.\n\n\n\n\nVII. The Red Cock Crows on Drachenhausen.\n\nThere was a new emperor in Germany who had come from a far away Swiss\ncastle; Count Rudolph of Hapsburg, a good, honest man with a good,\nhonest, homely face, but bringing with him a stern sense of justice and\nof right, and a determination to put down the lawlessness of the savage\nGerman barons among whom he had come as Emperor.\n\nOne day two strangers came galloping up the winding path to the gates\nof the Dragon's house. A horn sounded thin and clear, a parley was held\nacross the chasm in the road between the two strangers and the porter\nwho appeared at the little wicket. Then a messenger was sent running to\nthe Baron, who presently came striding across the open court-yard to the\ngateway to parley with the strangers.\n\nThe two bore with them a folded parchment with a great red seal\nhanging from it like a clot of blood; it was a message from the Emperor\ndemanding that the Baron should come to the Imperial Court to answer\ncertain charges that had been brought against him, and to give his bond\nto maintain the peace of the empire.\n\nOne by one those barons who had been carrying on their private wars, or\nhad been despoiling the burgher folk in their traffic from town to\ntown, and against whom complaint had been lodged, were summoned to the\nImperial Court, where they were compelled to promise peace and to swear\nallegiance to the new order of things. All those who came willingly were\nallowed to return home again after giving security for maintaining the\npeace; all those who came not willingly were either brought in chains\nor rooted out of their strongholds with fire and sword, and their roofs\nburned over their heads.\n\nNow it was Baron Conrad's turn to be summoned to the Imperial Court,\nfor complaint had been lodged against him by his old enemy of\nTrutz-Drachen--Baron Henry--the nephew of the old Baron Frederick\nwho had been slain while kneeling in the dust of the road back of the\nKaiserburg.\n\nNo one at Drachenhausen could read but Master Rudolph, the steward,\nwho was sand blind, and little Otto. So the boy read the summons to his\nfather, while the grim Baron sat silent with his chin resting upon his\nclenched fist and his eyebrows drawn together into a thoughtful frown as\nhe gazed into the pale face of his son, who sat by the rude oaken table\nwith the great parchment spread out before him.\n\nShould he answer the summons, or scorn it as he would have done under\nthe old emperors? Baron Conrad knew not which to do; pride said one\nthing and policy another. The Emperor was a man with an iron hand, and\nBaron Conrad knew what had happened to those who had refused to obey the\nimperial commands. So at last he decided that he would go to the court,\ntaking with him a suitable escort to support his dignity.\n\nIt was with nearly a hundred armed men clattering behind him that Baron\nConrad rode away to court to answer the imperial summons. The castle was\nstripped of its fighting men, and only eight remained behind to guard\nthe great stone fortress and the little simple-witted boy.\n\nIt was a sad mistake.\n\nThree days had passed since the Baron had left the castle, and now the\nthird night had come. The moon was hanging midway in the sky, white and\nfull, for it was barely past midnight.\n\nThe high precipitous banks of the rocky road threw a dense black shadow\ninto the gully below, and in that crooked inky line that scarred the\nwhite face of the moonlit rocks a band of some thirty men were creeping\nslowly and stealthily nearer and nearer to Castle Drachenhausen. At the\nhead of them was a tall, slender knight clad in light chain armor, his\nhead covered only by a steel cap or bascinet.\n\nAlong the shadow they crept, with only now and then a faint clink or\njingle of armor to break the stillness, for most of those who followed\nthe armed knight were clad in leathern jerkins; only one or two wearing\neven so much as a steel breast-plate by way of armor.\n\nSo at last they reached the chasm that yawned beneath the roadway, and\nthere they stopped, for they had reached the spot toward which they had\nbeen journeying. It was Baron Henry of Trutz-Drachen who had thus come\nin the silence of the night time to the Dragon's house, and his visit\nboded no good to those within.\n\nThe Baron and two or three of his men talked together in low tones, now\nand then looking up at the sheer wall that towered above them.\n\n\"Yonder is the place, Lord Baron,\" said one of those who stood with him.\n\"I have scanned every foot of the wall at night for a week past. An we\nget not in by that way, we get not in at all. A keen eye, a true aim,\nand a bold man are all that we need, and the business is done.\" Here\nagain all looked upward at the gray wall above them, rising up in the\nsilent night air.\n\nHigh aloft hung the wooden bartizan or watch-tower, clinging to the face\nof the outer wall and looming black against the pale sky above. Three\ngreat beams pierced the wall, and upon them the wooden tower rested. The\nmiddle beam jutted out beyond the rest to the distance of five or six\nfeet, and the end of it was carved into the rude semblance of a dragon's\nhead.\n\n\"So, good,\" said the Baron at last; \"then let us see if thy plan holds,\nand if Hans Schmidt's aim is true enough to earn the three marks that I\nhave promised him. Where is the bag?\"\n\nOne of those who stood near handed the Baron a leathern pouch, the Baron\nopened it and drew out a ball of fine thread, another of twine, a coil\nof stout rope, and a great bundle that looked, until it was unrolled,\nlike a coarse fish-net. It was a rope ladder. While these were being\nmade ready, Hans Schmidt, a thick-set, low-browed, broad-shouldered\narcher, strung his stout bow, and carefully choosing three arrows\nfrom those in his quiver, he stuck them point downward in the earth.\nUnwinding the ball of thread, he laid it loosely in large loops upon the\nground so that it might run easily without hitching, then he tied the\nend of the thread tightly around one of his arrows. He fitted the arrow\nto the bow and drew the feather to his ear. Twang! rang the bowstring,\nand the feathered messenger flew whistling upon its errand to the\nwatch-tower. The very first shaft did the work.\n\n\"Good,\" said Hans Schmidt, the archer, in his heavy voice, \"the three\nmarks are mine, Lord Baron.\"\n\nThe arrow had fallen over and across the jutting beam between the carved\ndragon's head and the bartizan, carrying with it the thread, which now\nhung from above, glimmering white in the moonlight like a cobweb.\n\nThe rest was an easy task enough. First the twine was drawn up to and\nover the beam by the thread, then the rope was drawn up by the twine,\nand last of all the rope ladder by the rope. There it hung like a thin,\nslender black line against the silent gray walls.\n\n\"And now,\" said the Baron, \"who will go first and win fifty marks for\nhis own, and climb the rope ladder to the tower yonder?\" Those around\nhesitated. \"Is there none brave enough to venture?\" said the Baron,\nafter a pause of silence.\n\nA stout, young fellow, of about eighteen years of age, stepped forward\nand flung his flat leathern cap upon the ground. \"I will go, my Lord\nBaron,\" said he.\n\n\"Good,\" said the Baron, \"the fifty marks are thine. And now listen, if\nthou findest no one in the watch-tower, whistle thus; if the watchman\nbe at his post, see that thou makest all safe before thou givest the\nsignal. When all is ready the others will follow thee. And now go and\ngood luck go with thee.\"\n\nThe young fellow spat upon his hands and, seizing the ropes, began\nslowly and carefully to mount the flimsy, shaking ladder. Those below\nheld it as tight as they were able, but nevertheless he swung backward\nand forward and round and round as he climbed steadily upward. Once he\nstopped upon the way, and those below saw him clutch the ladder close\nto him as though dizzied by the height and the motion but he soon began\nagain, up, up, up like some great black spider. Presently he came out\nfrom the black shadow below and into the white moonlight, and then his\nshadow followed him step by step up the gray wall upon his way. At last\nhe reached the jutting beam, and there again he stopped for a moment\nclutching tightly to it. The next he was upon the beam, dragging himself\ntoward the window of the bartizan just above. Slowly raising himself\nupon his narrow foothold he peeped cautiously within. Those watching\nhim from be low saw him slip his hand softly to his side, and then place\nsomething between his teeth. It was his dagger. Reaching up, he clutched\nthe window sill above him and, with a silent spring, seated himself\nupon it. The next moment he disappeared within. A few seconds of silence\nfollowed, then of sudden a sharp gurgling cry broke the stillness. There\nwas another pause of silence, then a faint shrill whistle sounded from\nabove.\n\n\"Who will go next?\" said the Baron. It was Hans Schmidt who stepped\nforward. Another followed the arch up the ladder, and another, and\nanother. Last of all went the Baron Henry himself, and nothing was left\nbut the rope ladder hanging from above, and swaying back and forth in\nthe wind.\n\nThat night Schwartz Carl had been bousing it over a pot of yellow wine\nin the pantry with his old crony, Master Rudolph, the steward; and the\ntwo, chatting and gossiping together, had passed the time away until\nlong after the rest of the castle had been wrapped in sleep. Then,\nperhaps a little unsteady upon his feet, Schwartz Carl betook himself\nhomeward to the Melchior tower.\n\nHe stood for a while in the shadow of the doorway, gazing up into the\npale sky above him at the great, bright, round moon, that hung like a\nbubble above the sharp peaks of the roofs standing black as ink against\nthe sky. But all of a sudden he started up from the post against which\nhe had been leaning, and with head bent to one side, stood listening\nbreathlessly, for he too had heard that smothered cry from the\nwatch-tower. So he stood intently, motionlessly, listening, listening;\nbut all was silent except for the monotonous dripping of water in one of\nthe nooks of the court-yard, and the distant murmur of the river borne\nupon the breath of the night air. \"Mayhap I was mistaken,\" muttered\nSchwartz Carl to himself.\n\nBut the next moment the silence was broken again by a faint, shrill\nwhistle; what did it mean?\n\nBack of the heavy oaken door of the tower was Schwartz Carl's cross-bow,\nthe portable windlass with which the bowstring was drawn back, and a\npouch of bolts. Schwartz Carl reached back into the darkness, fumbling\nin the gloom until his fingers met the weapon. Setting his foot in the\niron stirrup at the end of the stock, he wound the stout bow-string\ninto the notch of the trigger, and carefully fitted the heavy,\nmurderous-looking bolt into the groove.\n\nMinute after minute passed, and Schwartz Carl, holding his arbelast in\nhis hand, stood silently waiting and watching in the sharp-cut, black\nshadow of the doorway, motionless as a stone statue. Minute after minute\npassed. Suddenly there was a movement in the shadow of the arch of the\ngreat gateway across the court-yard, and the next moment a leathern-clad\nfigure crept noiselessly out upon the moonlit pavement, and stood there\nlistening, his head bent to one side. Schwartz Carl knew very well\nthat it was no one belonging to the castle, and, from the nature of his\naction, that he was upon no good errand.\n\nHe did not stop to challenge the suspicious stranger. The taking of\nanother's life was thought too small a matter for much thought or care\nin those days. Schwartz Carl would have shot a man for a much smaller\nreason than the suspicious actions of this fellow. The leather-clad\nfigure stood a fine target in the moonlight for a cross-bow bolt.\nSchwartz Carl slowly raised the weapon to his shoulder and took a long\nand steady aim. Just then the stranger put his fingers to his lips and\ngave a low, shrill whistle. It was the last whistle that he was to give\nupon this earth. There was a sharp, jarring twang of the bow-string, the\nhiss of the flying bolt, and the dull thud as it struck its mark. The\nman gave a shrill, quavering cry, and went staggering back, and then\nfell all of a heap against the wall behind him. As though in answer to\nthe cry, half a dozen men rushed tumultuously out from the shadow of\nthe gateway whence the stranger had just come, and then stood in the\ncourt-yard, looking uncertainly this way and that, not knowing from what\nquarter the stroke had come that had laid their comrade low.\n\nBut Schwartz Carl did not give them time to discover that; there was no\nchance to string his cumbersome weapon again; down he flung it upon the\nground. \"To arms!\" he roared in a voice of thunder, and then clapped to\nthe door of Melchior's tower and shot the great iron bolts with a clang\nand rattle.\n\nThe next instant the Trutz-Drachen men were thundering at the door, but\nSchwartz Carl was already far up the winding steps.\n\nBut now the others came pouring out from the gateway. \"To the house,\"\nroared Baron Henry.\n\nThen suddenly a clashing, clanging uproar crashed out upon the night.\nDong! Dong! It was the great alarm bell from Melchior's tower--Schwartz\nCarl was at his post.\n\nLittle Baron Otto lay sleeping upon the great rough bed in his room,\ndreaming of the White Cross on the hill and of brother John. By and by\nhe heard the convent bell ringing, and knew that there must be visitors\nat the gate, for loud voices sounded through his dream. Presently he\nknew that he was coming awake, but though the sunny monastery garden\ngrew dimmer and dimmer to his sleeping sight, the clanging of the bell\nand the sound of shouts grew louder and louder. Then he opened his eyes.\nFlaming red lights from torches, carried hither and thither by people\nin the court-yard outside, flashed and ran along the wall of his\nroom. Hoarse shouts and cries filled the air, and suddenly the shrill,\npiercing shriek of a woman rang from wall to wall; and through the\nnoises the great bell from far above upon Melchior's tower clashed and\nclanged its harsh, resonant alarm.\n\nOtto sprang from his bed and looked out of the window and down upon\nthe court-yard below. \"Dear God! what dreadful thing hath happened?\" he\ncried and clasped his hands together.\n\nA cloud of smoke was pouring out from the windows of the building across\nthe court-yard, whence a dull ruddy glow flashed and flickered. Strange\nmen were running here and there with flaming torches, and the now\ncontinuous shrieking of women pierced the air.\n\nJust beneath the window lay the figure of a man half naked and face\ndownward upon the stones. Then suddenly Otto cried out in fear and\nhorror, for, as he looked with dazed and bewildered eyes down into the\nlurid court-yard beneath, a savage man, in a shining breast-plate and\nsteel cap, came dragging the dark, silent figure of a woman across the\nstones; but whether she was dead or in a swoon, Otto could not tell.\n\nAnd every moment the pulsing of that dull red glare from the windows of\nthe building across the court-yard shone more brightly, and the glare\nfrom other flaming buildings, which Otto could not see from his window,\nturned the black, starry night into a lurid day.\n\nJust then the door of the room was burst open, and in rushed poor old\nUrsela, crazy with her terror. She flung herself down upon the floor and\ncaught Otto around the knees. \"Save me!\" she cried, \"save me!\" as though\nthe poor, pale child could be of any help to her at such a time. In the\npassageway without shone the light of torches, and the sound of loud\nfootsteps came nearer and nearer.\n\nAnd still through all the din sounded continually the clash and clang\nand clamor of the great alarm bell.\n\nThe red light flashed into the room, and in the doorway stood a tall,\nthin figure clad from head to foot in glittering chain armor. From\nbehind this fierce knight, with his dark, narrow, cruel face, its\ndeep-set eyes glistening in the light of the torches, crowded six or\neight savage, low-browed, brutal men, who stared into the room and\nat the white-faced boy as he stood by the window with the old woman\nclinging to his knees and praying to him for help.\n\n\"We have cracked the nut and here is the kernel,\" said one of them who\nstood behind the rest, and thereupon a roar of brutal laughter went up.\nBut the cruel face of the armed knight never relaxed into a smile;\nhe strode into the room and laid his iron hand heavily upon the boy's\nshoulder. \"Art thou the young Baron Otto?\" said he, in a harsh voice.\n\n\"Aye,\" said the lad; \"but do not kill me.\"\n\nThe knight did not answer him. \"Fetch the cord hither,\" said he, \"and\ndrag the old witch away.\"\n\nIt took two of them to loosen poor old Ursela's crazy clutch from about\nher young master. Then amid roars of laughter they dragged her away,\nscreaming and scratching and striking with her fists.\n\nThey drew back Otto's arms behind his back and wrapped them round and\nround with a bowstring. Then they pushed and hustled and thrust him\nforth from the room and along the passageway, now bright with the flames\nthat roared and crackled without. Down the steep stairway they drove\nhim, where thrice he stumbled and fell amid roars of laughter. At last\nthey were out into the open air of the court-yard. Here was a terrible\nsight, but Otto saw nothing of it; his blue eyes were gazing far away,\nand his lips moved softly with the prayer that the good monks of St.\nMichaelsburg had taught him, for he thought that they meant to slay him.\n\nAll around the court-yard the flames roared and snapped and crackled.\nFour or five figures lay scattered here and there, silent in all the\nglare and uproar. The heat was so intense that they were soon forced\nback into the shelter of the great gateway, where the women captives,\nunder the guard of three or four of the Trutz-Drachen men, were crowded\ntogether in dumb, bewildered terror. Only one man was to be seen among\nthe captives, poor, old, half blind Master Rudolph, the steward,\nwho crouched tremblingly among the women. They had set the blaze to\nMelchior's tower, and now, below, it was a seething furnace. Above, the\nsmoke rolled in black clouds from the windows, but still the alarm bell\nsounded through all the blaze and smoke. Higher and higher the flames\nrose; a trickle of fire ran along the frame buildings hanging aloft in\nthe air. A clear flame burst out at the peak of the roof, but still the\nbell rang forth its clamorous clangor. Presently those who watched below\nsaw the cluster of buildings bend and sink and sway; there was a crash\nand roar, a cloud of sparks flew up as though to the very heavens\nthemselves, and the bell of Melchior's tower was stilled forever. A\ngreat shout arose from the watching, upturned faces.\n\n\"Forward!\" cried Baron Henry, and out from the gateway they swept and\nacross the drawbridge, leaving Drachenhausen behind them a flaming\nfurnace blazing against the gray of the early dawning.\n\n\n\n\nVIII. In the House of the Dragon Scorner.\n\nTall, narrow, gloomy room; no furniture but a rude bench a bare stone\nfloor, cold stone walls and a gloomy ceiling of arched stone over head;\na long, narrow slit of a window high above in the wall, through the iron\nbars of which Otto could see a small patch of blue sky and now and then\na darting swallow, for an instant seen, the next instant gone. Such\nwas the little baron's prison in Trutz-Drachen. Fastened to a bolt\nand hanging against the walls, hung a pair of heavy chains with gaping\nfetters at the ends. They were thick with rust, and the red stain of\nthe rust streaked the wall below where they hung like a smear of blood.\nLittle Otto shuddered as he looked at them; can those be meant for me,\nhe thought.\n\nNothing was to be seen but that one patch of blue sky far up in the\nwall. No sound from without was to be heard in that gloomy cell of\nstone, for the window pierced the outer wall, and the earth and its\nnoises lay far below.\n\nSuddenly a door crashed without, and the footsteps of men were heard\ncoming along the corridor. They stopped in front of Otto's cell; he\nheard the jingle of keys, and then a loud rattle of one thrust into\nthe lock of the heavy oaken door. The rusty bolt was shot back with a\nscreech, the door opened, and there stood Baron Henry, no longer in his\narmor, but clad in a long black robe that reached nearly to his feet,\na broad leather belt was girdled about his waist, and from it dangled a\nshort, heavy hunting sword.\n\nAnother man was with the Baron, a heavy-faced fellow clad in a leathern\njerkin over which was drawn a short coat of linked mail.\n\nThe two stood for a moment looking into the room, and Otto, his pale\nface glimmering in the gloom, sat upon the edge of the heavy wooden\nbench or bed, looking back at them out of his great blue eyes. Then the\ntwo entered and closed the door behind them.\n\n\"Dost thou know why thou art here?\" said the Baron, in his deep, harsh\nvoice.\n\n\"Nay,\" said Otto, \"I know not.\"\n\n\"So?\" said the Baron. \"Then I will tell thee. Three years ago the good\nBaron Frederick, my uncle, kneeled in the dust and besought mercy at thy\nfather's hands; the mercy he received was the coward blow that slew him.\nThou knowest the story?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said Otto, tremblingly, \"I know it.\"\n\n\"Then dost thou not know why I am here?\" said the Baron.\n\n\"Nay, dear Lord Baron, I know not,\" said poor little Otto, and began to\nweep.\n\nThe Baron stood for a moment or two looking gloomily upon him, as the\nlittle boy sat there with the tears running down his white face.\n\n\"I will tell thee,\" said he, at last; \"I swore an oath that the red cock\nshould crow on Drachenhausen, and I have given it to the dames. I swore\nan oath that no Vuelph that ever left my hands should be able to strike\nsuch a blow as thy father gave to Baron Frederick, and now I will fulfil\nthat too. Catch the boy, Casper, and hold him.\"\n\nAs the man in the mail shirt stepped toward little Otto, the boy leaped\nup from where he sat and caught the Baron about the knees. \"Oh! dear\nLord Baron,\" he cried, \"do not harm me; I am only a little child, I have\nnever done harm to thee; do not harm me.\"\n\n\"Take him away,\" said the Baron, harshly.\n\nThe fellow stooped, and loosening Otto's hold, in spite of his struggles\nand cries, carried him to the bench, against which he held him, whilst\nthe Baron stood above him.\n\nBaron Henry and the other came forth from the cell, carefully closing\nthe wooden door behind them. At the end of the corridor the Baron\nturned, \"Let the leech be sent to the boy,\" said he. And then he turned\nand walked away.\n\nOtto lay upon the hard couch in his cell, covered with a shaggy bear\nskin. His face was paler and thinner than ever, and dark rings encircled\nhis blue eyes. He was looking toward the door, for there was a noise of\nsomeone fumbling with the lock without.\n\nSince that dreadful day when Baron Henry had come to his cell, only two\nsouls had visited Otto. One was the fellow who had come with the Baron\nthat time; his name, Otto found, was Casper. He brought the boy his rude\nmeals of bread and meat and water. The other visitor was the leech or\ndoctor, a thin, weasand little man, with a kindly, wrinkled face and a\ngossiping tongue, who, besides binding wounds, bleeding, and leeching,\nand administering his simple remedies to those who were taken sick in\nthe castle, acted as the Baron's barber.\n\nThe Baron had left the key in the lock of the door, so that these two\nmight enter when they chose, but Otto knew that it was neither the one\nnor the other whom he now heard at the door, working uncertainly with\nthe key, striving to turn it in the rusty, cumbersome lock. At last the\nbolts grated back, there was a pause, and then the door opened a little\nway, and Otto thought that he could see someone peeping in from without.\nBy and by the door opened further, there was another pause, and then\na slender, elfish-looking little girl, with straight black hair and\nshining black eyes, crept noiselessly into the room.\n\nShe stood close by the door with her finger in her mouth, staring at\nthe boy where he lay upon his couch, and Otto upon his part lay, full of\nwonder, gazing back upon the little elfin creature.\n\nShe, seeing that he made no sign or motion, stepped a little nearer, and\nthen, after a moment's pause, a little nearer still, until, at last, she\nstood within a few feet of where he lay.\n\n\"Art thou the Baron Otto?\" said she.\n\n\"Yes,\" answered Otto.\n\n\"Prut!\" said she, \"and is that so! Why, I thought that thou wert a great\ntall fellow at least, and here thou art a little boy no older than Carl\nMax, the gooseherd.\" Then, after a little pause--\"My name is Pauline,\nand my father is the Baron. I heard him tell my mother all about thee,\nand so I wanted to come here and see thee myself: Art thou sick?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Otto, \"I am sick.\"\n\n\"And did my father hurt thee?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said Otto, and his eyes filled with tears, until one sparkling\ndrop trickled slowly down his white face.\n\nLittle Pauline stood looking seriously at him for a while. \"I am sorry\nfor thee, Otto,\" said she, at last. And then, at her childish pity, he\nbegan crying in earnest.\n\nThis was only the first visit of many from the little maid, for after\nthat she often came to Otto's prison, who began to look for her coming\nfrom day to day as the one bright spot in the darkness and the gloom.\n\nSitting upon the edge of his bed and gazing into his face with wide open\neyes, she would listen to him by the hour, as he told her of his life in\nthat far away monastery home; of poor, simple brother John's wonderful\nvisions, of the good Abbot's books with their beautiful pictures, and of\nall the monkish tales and stories of knights and dragons and heroes and\nemperors of ancient Rome, which brother Emmanuel had taught him to read\nin the crabbed monkish Latin in which they were written.\n\nOne day the little maid sat for a long while silent after he had ended\nspeaking. At last she drew a deep breath. \"And are all these things that\nthou tellest me about the priests in their castle really true?\" said\nshe.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Otto, \"all are true.\"\n\n\"And do they never go out to fight other priests?\"\n\n\"No,\" said Otto, \"they know nothing of fighting.\"\n\n\"So!\" said she. And then fell silent in the thought of the wonder of\nit all, and that there should be men in the world that knew nothing of\nviolence and bloodshed; for in all the eight years of her life she had\nscarcely been outside of the walls of Castle Trutz-Drachen.\n\nAt another time it was of Otto's mother that they were speaking.\n\n\"And didst thou never see her, Otto?\" said the little girl.\n\n\"Aye,\" said Otto, \"I see her sometimes in my dreams, and her face always\nshines so bright that I know she is an angel; for brother John has often\nseen the dear angels, and he tells me that their faces always shine in\nthat way. I saw her the night thy father hurt me so, for I could not\nsleep and my head felt as though it would break asunder. Then she\ncame and leaned over me and kissed my forehead, and after that I fell\nasleep.\"\n\n\"But where did she come from, Otto?\" said the little girl.\n\n\"From paradise, I think,\" said Otto, with that patient seriousness that\nhe had caught from the monks, and that sat so quaintly upon him.\n\n\"So!\" said little Pauline; and then, after a pause, \"That is why thy\nmother kissed thee when thy head ached--because she is an angel. When\nI was sick my mother bade Gretchen carry me to a far part of the house,\nbecause I cried and so troubled her. Did thy mother ever strike thee,\nOtto?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Otto.\n\n\"Mine hath often struck me,\" said Pauline.\n\nOne day little Pauline came bustling into Otto's cell, her head full of\nthe news which she carried. \"My father says that thy father is out\nin the woods somewhere yonder, back of the castle, for Fritz, the\nswineherd, told my father that last night he had seen a fire in the\nwoods, and that he had crept up to it without anyone knowing. There he\nhad seen the Baron Conrad and six of his men, and that they were eating\none of the swine that they had killed and roasted. Maybe,\" said she,\nseating herself upon the edge of Otto's couch; \"maybe my father will\nkill thy father, and they will bring him here and let him lie upon a\nblack bed with bright candles burning around him, as they did my uncle\nFrederick when he was killed.\"\n\n\"God forbid!\" said Otto, and then lay for a while with his hands\nclasped. \"Dost thou love me, Pauline?\" said he, after a while.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Pauline, \"for thou art a good child, though my father says\nthat thy wits are cracked.\"\n\n\"Mayhap they are,\" said Otto, simply, \"for I have often been told so\nbefore. But thou wouldst not see me die, Pauline; wouldst thou?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Pauline, \"I would not see thee die, for then thou couldst\ntell me no more stories; for they told me that uncle Frederick could not\nspeak because he was dead.\"\n\n\"Then listen, Pauline,\" said Otto; \"if I go not away from here I shall\nsurely die. Every day I grow more sick and the leech cannot cure me.\"\nHere he broke down and, turning his face upon the couch, began crying,\nwhile little Pauline sat looking seriously at him.\n\n\"Why dost thou cry, Otto?\" said she, after a while.\n\n\"Because,\" said he, \"I am so sick, and I want my father to come and take\nme away from here.\"\n\n\"But why dost thou want to go away?\" said Pauline. \"If thy father takes\nthee away, thou canst not tell me any more stories.\"\n\n\"Yes, I can,\" said Otto, \"for when I grow to be a man I will come\nagain and marry thee, and when thou art my wife I can tell thee all the\nstories that I know. Dear Pauline, canst thou not tell my father where I\nam, that he may come here and take me away before I die?\"\n\n\"Mayhap I could do so,\" said Pauline, after a little while, \"for\nsometimes I go with Casper Max to see his mother, who nursed me when I\nwas a baby. She is the wife of Fritz, the swineherd, and she will make\nhim tell thy father; for she will do whatever I ask of her, and Fritz\nwill do whatever she bids him do.\"\n\n\"And for my sake, wilt thou tell him, Pauline?\" said Otto.\n\n\"But see, Otto,\" said the little girl, \"if I tell him, wilt thou promise\nto come indeed and marry me when thou art grown a man?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Otto, very seriously, \"I will promise.\"\n\n\"Then I will tell thy father where thou art,\" said she.\n\n\"But thou wilt do it without the Baron Henry knowing, wilt thou not,\nPauline?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said she, \"for if my father and my mother knew that I did such\na thing, they would strike me, mayhap send me to my bed alone in the\ndark.\"\n\n\n\n\nIX. How One-eyed Hans came to Trutz-Drachen.\n\nFritz, the swineherd, sat eating his late supper of porridge out of a\ngreat, coarse, wooden bowl; wife Katherine sat at the other end of the\ntable, and the half-naked little children played upon the earthen floor.\nA shaggy dog lay curled up in front of the fire, and a grunting pig\nscratched against a leg of the rude table close beside where the woman\nsat.\n\n\"Yes, yes,\" said Katherine, speaking of the matter of which they had\nalready been talking. \"It is all very true that the Drachenhausens are a\nbad lot, and I for one am of no mind to say no to that; all the same it\nis a sad thing that a simple-witted little child like the young Baron\nshould be so treated as the boy has been; and now that our Lord Baron\nhas served him so that he, at least, will never be able to do us 'harm,\nI for one say that he should not be left there to die alone in that\nblack cell.\"\n\nFritz, the swineherd, gave a grunt at this without raising his eyes from\nthe bowl.\n\n\"Yes, good,\" said Katherine, \"I know what thou meanest, Fritz, and that\nit is none of my business to be thrusting my finger into the Baron's\ndish. But to hear the way that dear little child spoke when she was here\nthis morn--it would have moved a heart of stone to hear her tell of all\nhis pretty talk. Thou wilt try to let the red-beard know that that poor\nboy, his son, is sick to death in the black cell; wilt thou not, Fritz?\"\n\nThe swineherd dropped his wooden spoon into the bowl with a clatter.\n\"Potstausand!\" he cried; \"art thou gone out of thy head to let thy wits\nrun upon such things as this of which thou talkest to me? If it should\ncome to our Lord Baron's ears he would cut the tongue from out thy head\nand my head from off my shoulders for it. Dost thou think I am going to\nmeddle in such a matter as this? Listen! these proud Baron folk, with\ntheir masterful ways, drive our sort hither and thither; they beat us,\nthey drive us, they kill us as they choose. Our lives are not as much\nto them as one of my black swine. Why should I trouble my head if they\nchoose to lop and trim one another? The fewer there are of them the\nbetter for us, say I. We poor folk have a hard enough life of it without\nthrusting our heads into the noose to help them out of their troubles.\nWhat thinkest thou would happen to us if Baron Henry should hear of our\nbetraying his affairs to the Red-beard?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Katherine, \"thou hast naught to do in the matter but to tell\nthe Red-beard in what part of the castle the little Baron lies.\"\n\n\"And what good would that do?\" said Fritz, the swineherd.\n\n\"I know not,\" said Katherine, \"but I have promised the little one that\nthou wouldst find the Baron Conrad and tell him that much.\"\n\n\"Thou hast promised a mare's egg,\" said her husband, angrily. \"How shall\nI find the Baron Conrad to bear a message to him, when our Baron has\nbeen looking for him in vain for two days past?\"\n\n\"Thou has found him once and thou mayst find him again,\" said Katherine,\n\"for it is not likely that he will keep far away from here whilst his\nboy is in such sore need of help.\"\n\n\"I will have nothing to do with it!\" said Fritz, and he got up from the\nwooden block whereon he was sitting and stumped out of the house. But,\nthen, Katherine had heard him talk in that way before, and knew, in\nspite of his saying \"no,\" that, sooner or later, he would do as she\nwished.\n\nTwo days later a very stout little one-eyed man, clad in a leathern\njerkin and wearing a round leathern cap upon his head, came toiling up\nthe path to the postern door of Trutz-Drachen, his back bowed under the\nburthen of a great peddler's pack. It was our old friend the one-eyed\nHans, though even his brother would hardly have known him in his present\nguise, for, besides having turned peddler, he had grown of a sudden\nsurprisingly fat.\n\nRap-tap-tap! He knocked at the door with a knotted end of the crooked\nthorned staff upon which he leaned. He waited for a while and then\nknocked again--rap-tap-tap!\n\nPresently, with a click, a little square wicket that pierced the door\nwas opened, and a woman's face peered out through the iron bars.\n\nThe one-eyed Hans whipped off his leathern cap.\n\n\"Good day, pretty one,\" said he, \"and hast thou any need of glass beads,\nribbons, combs, or trinkets? Here I am come all the way from Gruenstadt,\nwith a pack full of such gay things as thou never laid eyes on before.\nHere be rings and bracelets and necklaces that might be of pure silver\nand set with diamonds and rubies, for anything that thy dear one could\ntell if he saw thee decked in them. And all are so cheap that thou hast\nonly to say, 'I want them,' and they are thine.\"\n\nThe frightened face at the window looked from right to left and from\nleft to right. \"Hush,\" said the girl, and laid her finger upon her lips.\n\"There! thou hadst best get away from here, poor soul, as fast as thy\nlegs can carry thee, for if the Lord Baron should find thee here talking\nsecretly at the postern door, he would loose the wolf-hounds upon thee.\"\n\n\"Prut,\" said one-eyed Hans, with a grin, \"the Baron is too big a fly to\nsee such a little gnat as I; but wolf-hounds or no wolf-hounds, I\ncan never go hence without showing thee the pretty things that I have\nbrought from the town, even though my stay be at the danger of my own\nhide.\"\n\nHe flung the pack from off his shoulders as he spoke and fell to\nunstrapping it, while the round face of the lass (her eyes big with\ncuriosity) peered down at him through the grated iron bars.\n\nHans held up a necklace of blue and white beads that glistened like\njewels in the sun, and from them hung a gorgeous filigree cross. \"Didst\nthou ever see a sweeter thing than this?\" said he; \"and look, here is a\ncomb that even the silversmith would swear was pure silver all the way\nthrough.\" Then, in a soft, wheedling voice, \"Canst thou not let me in,\nmy little bird? Sure there are other lasses besides thyself who would\nlike to trade with a poor peddler who has travelled all the way from\nGruenstadt just to please the pretty ones of Trutz-Drachen.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said the lass, in a frightened voice, \"I cannot let thee in; I\nknow not what the Baron would do to me, even now, if he knew that I was\nhere talking to a stranger at the postern;\" and she made as if she would\nclap to the little window in his face; but the one-eyed Hans thrust his\nstaff betwixt the bars and so kept the shutter open.\n\n\"Nay, nay,\" said he, eagerly, \"do not go away from me too soon. Look,\ndear one; seest thou this necklace?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said she, looking hungrily at it.\n\n\"Then listen; if thou wilt but let me into the castle, so that I may\nstrike a trade, I will give it to thee for thine own without thy paying\na barley corn for it.\"\n\nThe girl looked and hesitated, and then looked again; the temptation was\ntoo great. There was a noise of softly drawn bolts and bars, the door\nwas hesitatingly opened a little way, and, in a twinkling, the one-eyed\nHans had slipped inside the castle, pack and all.\n\n\"The necklace,\" said the girl, in a frightened whisper.\n\nHans thrust it into her hand. \"It's thine,\" said he, \"and now wilt thou\nnot help me to a trade?\"\n\n\"I will tell my sister that thou art here,\" said she, and away she ran\nfrom the little stone hallway, carefully bolting and locking the further\ndoor behind her.\n\nThe door that the girl had locked was the only one that connected the\npostern hail with the castle.\n\nThe one-eyed Hans stood looking after her. \"Thou fool!\" he muttered to\nhimself, \"to lock the door behind thee. What shall I do next, I should\nlike to know? Here am I just as badly off as I was when I stood outside\nthe walls. Thou hussy! If thou hadst but let me into the castle for only\ntwo little minutes, I would have found somewhere to have hidden myself\nwhile thy back was turned. But what shall I do now?\" He rested his pack\nupon the floor and stood looking about him.\n\nBuilt in the stone wall opposite to him, was a high, narrow fireplace\nwithout carving of any sort. As Hans' one eye wandered around the bare\nstone space, his glance fell at last upon it, and there it rested. For\na while he stood looking intently at it, presently he began rubbing his\nhand over his bristling chin in a thoughtful, meditative manner. Finally\nhe drew a deep breath, and giving himself a shake as though to arouse\nhimself from his thoughts, and after listening a moment or two to\nmake sure that no one was nigh, he walked softly to the fireplace, and\nstooping, peered up the chimney. Above him yawned a black cavernous\ndepth, inky with the soot of years. Hans straightened himself, and\ntilting his leathern cap to one side, began scratching his bullet-head;\nat last he drew a long breath. \"Yes, good,\" he muttered to himself; \"he\nwho jumps into the river must e'en swim the best he can. It is a vile,\ndirty place to thrust one's self; but I am in for it now, and must make\nthe best of a lame horse.\"\n\nHe settled the cap more firmly upon his head, spat upon his hands, and\nonce more stooping in the fireplace, gave a leap, and up the chimney he\nwent with a rattle of loose mortar and a black trickle of soot.\n\nBy and by footsteps sounded outside the door. There was a pause; a\nhurried whispering of women's voices; the twitter of a nervous laugh,\nand then the door was pushed softly opens and the girl to whom the\none-eyed Hans had given the necklace of blue and white beads with the\nfiligree cross hanging from it, peeped uncertainly into the room. Behind\nher broad, heavy face were three others, equally homely and stolid; for\na while all four stood there, looking blankly into the room and around\nit. Nothing was there but the peddler's knapsack lying in the middle of\nthe floor-the man was gone. The light of expectancy slowly faded Out of\nthe girl's face, and in its place succeeded first bewilderment and then\ndull alarm. \"But, dear heaven,\" she said, \"where then has the peddler\nman gone?\"\n\nA moment or two of silence followed her speech. \"Perhaps,\" said one of\nthe others, in a voice hushed with awe, \"perhaps it was the evil one\nhimself to whom thou didst open the door.\"\n\nAgain there was a hushed and breathless pause; it was the lass who had\nlet Hans in at the postern, who next spoke.\n\n\"Yes,\" said she, in a voice trembling with fright at what she had done,\n\"yes, it must have been the evil one, for now I remember he had but one\neye.\" The four girls crossed themselves, and their eyes grew big and\nround with the fright.\n\nSuddenly a shower of mortar came rattling down the chimney. \"Ach!\" cried\nthe four, as with one voice. Bang! the door was clapped to and away they\nscurried like a flock of frightened rabbits.\n\nWhen Jacob, the watchman, came that way an hour later, upon his evening\nround of the castle, he found a peddler's knapsack lying in the middle\nof the floor. He turned it over with his pike-staff and saw that it was\nfull of beads and trinkets and ribbons.\n\n\"How came this here?\" said he. And then, without waiting for the answer\nwhich he did not expect, he flung it over his shoulder and marched away\nwith it.\n\n\n\n\nX. How Hans Brought Terror to the Kitchen.\n\nHans found himself in a pretty pickle in the chimney, for the soot got\ninto his one eye and set it to watering, and into his nose and set him\nto sneezing, and into his mouth and his ears and his hair. But still\nhe struggled on, up and up; \"for every chimney has a top,\" said Hans\nto himself \"and I am sure to climb out somewhere or other.\" Suddenly he\ncame to a place where another chimney joined the one he was climbing,\nand here he stopped to consider the matter at his leisure. \"See now,\" he\nmuttered, \"if I still go upward I may come out at the top of some tall\nchimney-stack with no way of getting down outside. Now, below here\nthere must be a fire-place somewhere, for a chimney does not start from\nnothing at all; yes, good! we will go down a while and see what we make\nof that.\"\n\nIt was a crooked, zigzag road that he had to travel, and rough and hard\ninto the bargain. His one eye tingled and smarted, and his knees and\nelbows were rubbed to the quick; nevertheless One-eyed Hans had been in\nworse trouble than this in his life.\n\nDown he went and down he went, further than he had climbed upward\nbefore. \"Sure, I must be near some place or other,\" he thought.\n\nAs though in instant answer to his thoughts, he heard the sudden sound\nof a voice so close beneath him that he stopped short in his downward\nclimbing and stood as still as a mouse, with his heart in his mouth.\nA few inches more and he would have been discovered;--what would have\nhappened then would have been no hard matter to foretell.\n\nHans braced his back against one side of the chimney, his feet against\nthe other and then, leaning forward, looked down between his knees. The\ngray light of the coming evening glimmered in a wide stone fireplace\njust below him. Within the fireplace two people were moving about upon\nthe broad hearth, a great, fat woman and a shock-headed boy. The woman\nheld a spit with two newly trussed fowls upon it, so that One-eyed Hans\nknew that she must be the cook.\n\n\"Thou ugly toad,\" said the woman to the boy, \"did I not bid thee make a\nfire an hour ago? and now, here there is not so much as a spark to roast\nthe fowls withall, and they to be basted for the lord Baron's supper.\nWhere hast thou been for all this time?\"\n\n\"No matter,\" said the boy, sullenly, as he laid the fagots ready for the\nlighting; \"no matter, I was not running after Long Jacob, the bowman, to\ntry to catch him for a sweetheart, as thou hast been doing.\"\n\nThe reply was instant and ready. The cook raised her hand; \"smack!\" she\nstruck and a roar from the scullion followed.\n\n\"Yes, good,\" thought Hans, as he looked down upon them; \"I am glad that\nthe boy's ear was not on my head.\"\n\n\"Now give me no more of thy talk,\" said the woman, \"but do the work\nthat thou hast been bidden.\" Then--\"How came all this black soot here, I\nshould like to know?\"\n\n\"How should I know?\" snuffled the scullion, \"mayhap thou wouldst blame\nthat on me also?\"\n\n\"That is my doing,\" whispered Hans to himself; \"but if they light the\nfire, what then becomes of me?\"\n\n\"See now,\" said the cook; \"I go to make the cakes ready; if I come back\nand find that thou hast not built the fire, I will warm thy other ear\nfor thee.\"\n\n\"So,\" thought Hans; \"then will be my time to come down the chimney, for\nthere will be but one of them.\"\n\nThe next moment he heard the door close and knew that the cook had gone\nto make the cakes ready as she said. And as he looked down he saw that\nthe boy was bending over the bundle of fagots, blowing the spark that\nhe had brought in upon the punk into a flame. The dry fagots began to\ncrackle and blaze. \"Now is my time,\" said Hans to himself. Bracing his\nelbows against each side of the chimney, he straightened his legs so\nthat he might fall clear His motions loosened little shower of soot that\nfell rattling upon the fagots that were now beginning to blaze brightly,\nwhereupon the boy raised his face and looked up. Hans loosened his hold\nupon the chimney; crash! he fell, lighting upon his feet in the midst\nof the burning fagots. The scullion boy tumbled backward upon the floor,\nwhere he lay upon the broad of his back with a face as white as\ndough and eyes and mouth agape, staring speechlessly at the frightful\ninky-black figure standing in the midst of the flames and smoke. Then\nhis scattered wits came back to him. \"It is the evil one,\" he roared.\nAnd thereupon, turning upon his side, he half rolled, half scrambled to\nthe door. Then out he leaped and, banging it to behind him, flew down\nthe passageway, yelling with fright and never daring once to look behind\nhim.\n\nAll the time One-eyed Hans was brushing away the sparks that clung to\nhis clothes. He was as black as ink from head to foot with the soot from\nthe chimney.\n\n\"So far all is good,\" he muttered to himself, \"but if I go wandering\nabout in my sooty shoes I will leave black tracks to follow me, so there\nis nothing to do but e'en to go barefoot.\"\n\nHe stooped and drawing the pointed soft leather shoes from his feet, he\nthrew them upon the now blazing fagots, where they writhed and twisted\nand wrinkled, and at last burst into a flame. Meanwhile Hans lost no\ntime; he must find a hiding-place, and quickly, if he would yet hope\nto escape. A great bread trough stood in the corner of the kitchen--a\nhopper-shaped chest with a flat lid. It was the best hiding place that\nthe room afforded. Without further thought Hans ran to it, snatching up\nfrom the table as he passed a loaf of black bread and a bottle half full\nof stale wine, for he had had nothing to eat since that morning. Into\nthe great bread trough he climbed, and drawing the lid down upon him,\ncurled himself up as snugly as a mouse in its nest.\n\nFor a while the kitchen lay in silence, but at last the sound of voices\nwas heard at the door, whispering together in low tones. Suddenly the\ndoor was flung open and a tall, lean, lantern-jawed fellow, clad in\nrough frieze, strode into the room and stood there glaring with half\nfrightened boldness around about him; three or four women and the\ntrembling scullion crowded together in a frightened group behind him.\n\nThe man was Long Jacob, the bowman; but, after all, his boldness was\nall wasted, for not a thread or a hair was to be seen, but only the\ncrackling fire throwing its cheerful ruddy glow upon the wall of the\nroom, now rapidly darkening in the falling gray of the twilight without.\n\nThe fat cook's fright began rapidly to turn into anger.\n\n\"Thou imp,\" she cried, \"it is one of thy tricks,\" and she made a dive\nfor the scullion, who ducked around the skirts of one of the other women\nand so escaped for the time; but Long Jacob wrinkled up his nose and\nsniffed. \"Nay,\" said he, \"me thinks that there lieth some truth in the\ntale that the boy hath told, for here is a vile smell of burned horn\nthat the black one bath left behind him.\"\n\nIt was the smell from the soft leather shoes that Hans had burned.\n\nThe silence of night had fallen over the Castle of Trutz-Drachen; not\na sound was heard but the squeaking of mice scurring behind the\nwainscoting, the dull dripping of moisture from the eaves, or the\nsighing of the night wind around the gables and through the naked\nwindows of the castle.\n\nThe lid of the great dough trough was softly raised, and a face, black\nwith soot, peeped cautiously out from under it. Then little by little\narose a figure as black as the face; and One-eyed Hans stepped out upon\nthe floor, stretching and rubbing himself.\n\n\"Methinks I must have slept,\" he muttered. \"Hui, I am as stiff as a new\nleather doublet, and now, what next is to become of me? I hope my luck\nmay yet stick to me, in spite of this foul black soot!\"\n\nAlong the middle of the front of the great hall of the castle, ran a\nlong stone gallery, opening at one end upon the court-yard by a high\nflight of stone steps. A man-at-arms in breast-plate and steel cap, and\nbearing a long pike, paced up and down the length of this gallery, now\nand then stopping, leaning over the edge, and gazing up into the starry\nsky above; then, with a long drawn yawn, lazily turning back to the\nmonotonous watch again.\n\nA dark figure crept out from an arched doorway at the lower part of the\nlong straight building, and some little distance below the end gallery,\nbut the sentry saw nothing of it, for his back was turned. As silently\nand as stealthily as a cat the figure crawled along by the dark shadowy\nwall, now and then stopping, and then again creeping slowly forward\ntoward the gallery where the man-at-arms moved monotonously up and down.\nIt was One-eyed Hans in his bare feet.\n\nInch by inch, foot by foot--the black figure crawled along in the angle\nof the wall; inch by inch and foot by foot, but ever nearer and nearer\nto the long straight row of stone steps that led to the covered gallery.\nAt last it crouched at the lowest step of the flight. Just then the\nsentinel upon watch came to the very end of the gallery and stood there\nleaning upon his spear. Had he looked down below he could not have\nfailed to have seen One-eyed Hans lying there motionlessly; but he was\ngazing far away over the steep black roofs beyond, and never saw the\nunsuspected presence. Minute after minute passed, and the one stood\nthere looking out into the night and the other lay crouching by the\nwall; then with a weary sigh the sentry turned and began slowly pacing\nback again toward the farther end of the gallery.\n\nInstantly the motionless figure below arose and glided noiselessly and\nswiftly up the flight of steps.\n\nTwo rude stone pillars flanked either side of the end of the gallery.\nLike a shadow the black figure slipped behind one of these, flattening\nitself up against the wall, where it stood straight and motionless as\nthe shadows around it.\n\nDown the long gallery came the watchman, his sword clinking loudly in\nthe silence as he walked, tramp, tramp, tramp! clink, clank, jingle.\n\nWithin three feet of the motionless figure behind the pillar he turned,\nand began retracing his monotonous steps. Instantly the other left the\nshadow of the post and crept rapidly and stealthily after him. One step,\ntwo steps the sentinel took; for a moment the black figure behind him\nseemed to crouch and draw together, then like a flash it leaped forward\nupon its victim.\n\nA shadowy cloth fell upon the man's face, and in an instant he was flung\nback and down with a muffled crash upon the stones. Then followed a\nfierce and silent struggle in the darkness, but strong and sturdy as the\nman was, he was no match for the almost superhuman strength of One-eyed\nHans. The cloth which he had flung over his head was tied tightly and\nsecurely. Then the man was forced upon his face and, in spite of his\nfierce struggles, his arms were bound around and around with strong fine\ncord; next his feet were bound in the same way, and the task was done.\nThen Hans stood upon his feet, and wiped the sweat from his swarthy\nforehead. \"Listen, brother,\" he whispered, and as he spoke he stooped\nand pressed something cold and hard against the neck of the other.\n\"Dost thou know the feel of this? It is a broad dagger, and if thou\ndost contrive to loose that gag from thy mouth and makest any outcry, it\nshall be sheathed in thy weasand.\"\n\nSo saying, he thrust the knife back again into its sheath, then stooping\nand picking up the other, he flung him across his shoulder like a sack,\nand running down the steps as lightly as though his load was nothing at\nall, he carried his burden to the arched doorway whence he had come a\nlittle while before. There, having first stripped his prisoner of\nall his weapons, Hans sat the man up in the angle of the wall. \"So,\nbrother;\" said he, \"now we can talk with more ease than we could up\nyonder. I will tell thee frankly why I am here; it is to find where the\nyoung Baron Otto of Drachenhausen is kept. If thou canst tell me,\nwell and good; if not, I must e'en cut thy weasand and find me one who\nknoweth more. Now, canst thou tell me what I would learn, brother?\"\n\nThe other nodded dimly in the darkness.\n\n\"That is good,\" said Hans, \"then I will loose thy gag until thou hast\ntold me; only bear in mind what I said concerning my dagger.\"\n\nThereupon, he unbound his prisoner, and the fellow slowly rose to his\nfeet. He shook himself and looked all about him in a heavy, bewildered\nfashion, as though he had just awakened from a dream.\n\nHis right hand slid furtively down to his side, but the dagger-sheath\nwas empty.\n\n\"Come, brother!\" said Hans, impatiently, \"time is passing, and once lost\ncan never be found again. Show me the way to the young Baron Otto or--.\"\nAnd he whetted the shining blade of his dagger on his horny palm.\n\nThe fellow needed no further bidding; turning, he led the way, and\ntogether they were swallowed up in the yawning shadows, and again the\nhush of night-time lay upon the Castle of Trutz-Drachen.\n\n\n\n\nXI. How Otto was Saved.\n\nLittle Otto was lying upon the hard couch in his cell, tossing in\nrestless and feverish sleep; suddenly a heavy hand was laid upon him and\na voice whispered in his ear, \"Baron, Baron Otto, waken, rouse yourself;\nI am come to help you. I am One-eyed Hans.\"\n\nOtto was awake in an instant and raised himself upon his elbow in the\ndarkness. \"One-eyed Hans,\" he breathed, \"One-eyed Hans; who is One-eyed\nHans?\"\n\n\"True,\" said the other, \"thou dost not know me. I am thy father's\ntrusted servant, and am the only one excepting his own blood and kin\nwho has clung to him in this hour of trouble. Yes, all are gone but me\nalone, and so I have come to help thee away from this vile place.\"\n\n\"Oh, dear, good Hans! if only thou canst!\" cried Otto; \"if only thou\ncanst take me away from this wicked place. Alas, dear Hans! I am weary\nand sick to death.\" And poor little Otto began to weep silently in the\ndarkness.\n\n\"Aye, aye,\" said Hans, gruffly, \"it is no place for a little child\nto be. Canst thou climb, my little master? canst thou climb a knotted\nrope?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Otto, \"I can never climb again! See, Hans;\" and he flung\nback the covers from off him.\n\n\"I cannot see,\" said Hans, \"it is too dark.\"\n\n\"Then feel, dear Hans,\" said Otto.\n\nHans bent over the poor little white figure glimmering palely in the\ndarkness. Suddenly he drew back with a snarl like an angry wolf. \"Oh!\nthe black, bloody wretches!\" he cried, hoarsely; \"and have they done\nthat to thee, a little child?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Otto, \"the Baron Henry did it.\" And then again he began to\ncry.\n\n\"There, there,\" said Hans, roughly, \"weep no more. Thou shalt get away\nfrom here even if thou canst not climb; I myself will help thee. Thy\nfather is already waiting below the window here, and thou shalt soon be\nwith him. There, there, cry no more.\"\n\nWhile he was speaking Hans had stripped off his peddler's leathern\njacket, and there, around his body, was wrapped coil after coil of stout\nhempen rope tied in knots at short distances. He began unwinding the\nrope, and when he had done he was as thin as ever he had been before.\nNext he drew from the pouch that hung at his side a ball of fine cord\nand a leaden weight pierced by a hole, both of which he had brought with\nhim for the use to which he now put them. He tied the lead to the end of\nthe cord, then whirling the weight above his head, he flung it up toward\nthe window high above. Twice the piece of lead fell back again into the\nroom; the third time it flew out between the iron bars carrying the cord\nwith it. Hans held the ball in his hand and paid out the string as the\nweight carried it downward toward the ground beneath. Suddenly the cord\nstopped running. Hans jerked it and shook it, but it moved no farther.\n\"Pray heaven, little child,\" said he, \"that it hath reached the ground,\nfor if it hath not we are certainly lost.\"\n\n\"I do pray,\" said Otto, and he bowed his head.\n\nThen, as though in answer to his prayer, there came a twitch upon the\ncord.\n\n\"See,\" said Hans, \"they have heard thee up above in heaven; it was thy\nfather who did that.\" Quickly and deftly he tied the cord to the end of\nthe knotted rope; then he gave an answering jerk upon the string. The\nnext moment the rope was drawn up to the window and down the outside by\nthose below. Otto lay watching the rope as it crawled up to the window\nand out into the night like a great snake, while One-eyed Hans held the\nother end lest it should be drawn too far. At last it stopped. \"Good,\"\nmuttered Hans, as though to himself. \"The rope is long enough.\"\n\nHe waited for a few minutes and then, drawing upon the rope and finding\nthat it was held from below, he spat upon his hands and began slowly\nclimbing up to the window above. Winding his arm around the iron bars of\nthe grating that guarded it, he thrust his hand into the pouch that hung\nby his side, and drawing forth a file, fell to work cutting through all\nthat now lay between Otto and liberty.\n\nIt was slow, slow work, and it seemed to Otto as though Hans would never\nfinish his task, as lying upon his hard couch he watched that figure,\nblack against the sky, bending over its work. Now and then the file\nscreeched against the hard iron, and then Hans would cease for a moment,\nbut only to begin again as industriously as ever. Three or four times he\ntried the effects of his work, but still the iron held. At last he\nset his shoulder against it, and as Otto looked he saw the iron bend.\nSuddenly there was a sharp crack, and a piece of the grating went flying\nout into the night.\n\nHans tied the rope securely about the stump of the stout iron bar that\nyet remained, and then slid down again into the room below.\n\n\"My little lord,\" said he, \"dost thou think that if I carry thee, thou\nwilt be able and strong enough to cling to my neck?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said Otto, \"methinks I will be able to do that.\"\n\n\"Then come,\" said Hans.\n\nHe stooped as he spoke, and gently lifting Otto from his rude and rugged\nbed he drew his broad leathern belt around them both, buckling it firmly\nand securely. \"It does not hurt thee?\" said he.\n\n\"Not much,\" whispered Otto faintly.\n\nThen Hans spat upon his hands, and began slowly climbing the rope.\n\nThey reached the edge of the window and there they rested for a moment,\nand Otto renewed his hold around the neck of the faithful Hans.\n\n\"And now art thou ready?\" said Hans\n\n\"Aye,\" said Otto.\n\n\"Then courage,\" said Hans, and he turned and swung his leg over the\nabyss below.\n\nThe next moment they were hanging in mid-air.\n\nOtto looked down and gave a gasp. \"The mother of heaven bless us,\" he\nwhispered, and then closed his eyes, faint and dizzy at the sight of\nthat sheer depth beneath. Hans said nothing, but shutting his teeth\nand wrapping his legs around the rope, he began slowly descending, hand\nunder hand. Down, down, down he went, until to Otto, with his eyes shut\nand his head leaning upon Hans' shoulder, it seemed as though it could\nnever end. Down, down, down. Suddenly he felt Hans draw a deep breath;\nthere was a slight jar, and Otto opened his eyes; Hans was standing upon\nthe ground.\n\nA figure wrapped in a dark cloak arose from the shadow of the wall, and\ntook Otto in its arms. It was Baron Conrad.\n\n\"My son--my little child!\" he cried, in a choked, trembling voice, and\nthat was all. And Otto pressed his cheek against his father's and began\ncrying.\n\nSuddenly the Baron gave a sharp, fierce cry. \"Dear Heaven!\" he cried;\n\"what have they done to thee?\" But poor little Otto could not answer.\n\n\"Oh!\" gasped the Baron, in a strangled voice, \"my little child! my\nlittle child!\" And therewith he broke down, and his whole body shook\nwith fierce, dry sobs; for men in those days did not seek to hide their\ngrief as they do now, but were fierce and strong in the expression of\nthat as of all else.\n\n\"Never mind, dear father,\" whispered Otto; \"it did not hurt me so very\nmuch,\" and he pressed his lips against his father's cheek.\n\nLittle Otto had but one hand.\n\n\n\n\nXII. A Ride For Life.\n\nBut not yet was Otto safe, and all danger past and gone by. Suddenly, as\nthey stood there, the harsh clangor of a bell broke the silence of\nthe starry night above their heads, and as they raised their faces and\nlooked up, they saw lights flashing from window to window. Presently\ncame the sound of a hoarse voice shouting something that, from the\ndistance, they could not understand.\n\nOne-eyed Hans smote his hand upon his thigh. Look said he, \"here is\nwhat comes of having a soft heart in one's bosom. I overcame and bound a\nwatchman up yonder, and forced him to tell me where our young Baron lay.\nIt was on my mind to run my knife into him after he had told me every\nthing, but then, bethinking how the young Baron hated the thought of\nbloodshed, I said to myself, 'No, Hans, I will spare the villain's\nlife.' See now what comes of being merciful; here, by hook or by crook,\nthe fellow has loosed himself from his bonds, and brings the whole\ncastle about our ears like a nest of wasps.\"\n\n\"We must fly,\" said the Baron; \"for nothing else in the world is\nleft me, now that all have deserted me in this black time of trouble,\nexcepting these six faithful ones.\"\n\nHis voice was bitter, bitter, as he spoke; then stooping, he raised Otto\nin his arms, and bearing him gently, began rapidly descending the rocky\nslope to the level road that ran along the edge of the hill beneath.\nClose behind him followed the rest; Hans still grimed with soot and in\nhis bare feet. A little distance from the road and under the shade of\nthe forest trees, seven horses stood waiting. The Baron mounted upon\nhis great black charger, seating little Otto upon the saddle in front of\nhim. \"Forward!\" he cried, and away they clattered and out upon the road.\nThen--\"To St. Michaelsburg,\" said Baron Conrad, in his deep voice, and\nthe horses' heads were turned to the westward, and away they galloped\nthrough the black shadows of the forest, leaving Trutz-Drachen behind\nthem.\n\nBut still the sound of the alarm bell rang through the beating of the\nhorses' hoofs, and as Hans looked over his shoulder, he saw the light\nof torches flashing hither and thither along the outer walls in front of\nthe great barbican.\n\nIn Castle Trutz-Drachen all was confusion and uproar: flashing torches\nlit up the dull gray walls; horses neighed and stamped, and men shouted\nand called to one another in the bustle of making ready. Presently Baron\nHenry came striding along the corridor clad in light armor, which he had\nhastily donned when roused from his sleep by the news that his prisoner\nhad escaped. Below in the courtyard his horse was standing, and without\nwaiting for assistance, he swung himself into the saddle. Then away they\nall rode and down the steep path, armor ringing, swords clanking, and\niron-shod hoofs striking sparks of fire from the hard stones. At their\nhead rode Baron Henry; his triangular shield hung over his shoulder, and\nin his hand he bore a long, heavy, steel-pointed lance with a pennant\nflickering darkly from the end.\n\nAt the high-road at the base of the slope they paused, for they were at\na loss to know which direction the fugitives had taken; a half a score\nof the retainers leaped from their horses, and began hurrying about\nhither and thither, and up and down, like hounds searching for the lost\nscent, and all the time Baron Henry sat still as a rock in the midst of\nthe confusion.\n\nSuddenly a shout was raised from the forest just beyond the road; they\nhad come upon the place where the horses had been tied. It was an easy\nmatter to trace the way that Baron Conrad and his followers had taken\nthence back to the high-road, but there again they were at a loss. The\nroad ran straight as an arrow eastward and westward--had the fugitives\ntaken their way to the east or to the west?\n\nBaron Henry called his head-man, Nicholas Stein, to him, and the\ntwo spoke together for a while in an undertone. At last the Baron's\nlieutenant reined his horse back, and choosing first one and then\nanother, divided the company into two parties. The baron placed himself\nat the head of one band and Nicholas Stein at the head of the other.\n\"Forward!\" he cried, and away clattered the two companies of horsemen in\nopposite directions.\n\nIt was toward the westward that Baron Henry of Trutz-Drachen rode at the\nhead of his men.\n\nThe early springtide sun shot its rays of misty, yellow light across the\nrolling tops of the forest trees where the little birds were singing in\nthe glory of the May morning. But Baron Henry and his followers thought\nnothing of the beauty of the peaceful day, and heard nothing of the\nmultitudinous sound of the singing birds as, with a confused sound of\ngalloping hoofs, they swept along the highway, leaving behind them a\nslow-curling, low-trailing cloud of dust.\n\nAs the sun rose more full and warm, the misty wreaths began to dissolve,\nuntil at last they parted and rolled asunder like a white curtain and\nthere, before the pursuing horsemen, lay the crest of the mountain\ntoward which they were riding, and up which the road wound steeply.\n\n\"Yonder they are,\" cried a sudden voice behind Baron Henry of\nTrutz-Drachen, and at the cry all looked upward.\n\nFar away upon the mountain-side curled a cloud of dust, from the midst\nof which came the star-like flash of burnished armor gleaming in the\nsun.\n\nBaron Henry said never a word, but his lips curled in a grim smile.\n\nAnd as the mist wreaths parted One-eyed Hans looked behind and down\ninto the leafy valley beneath. \"Yonder they come,\" said he. \"They have\nfollowed sharply to gain so much upon us, even though our horses are\nwearied with all the travelling we have done hither and yon these five\ndays past. How far is it, Lord Baron, from here to Michaelsburg?\"\n\n\"About ten leagues,\" said the Baron, in a gloomy voice.\n\nHans puckered his mouth as though to whistle, but the Baron saw nothing\nof it, for he was gazing straight before him with a set and stony face.\nThose who followed him looked at one another, and the same thought was\nin the mind of each--how long would it be before those who pursued would\nclose the distance between them?\n\nWhen that happened it meant death to one and all.\n\nThey reached the crest of the hill, and down they dashed upon the other\nside; for there the road was smooth and level as it sloped away into the\nvalley, but it was in dead silence that they rode. Now and then those\nwho followed the Baron looked back over their shoulders. They had gained\na mile upon their pursuers when the helmeted heads rose above the crest\nof the mountain, but what was the gain of a mile with a smooth road\nbetween them, and fresh horses to weary ones?\n\nOn they rode and on they rode. The sun rose higher and higher, and\nhotter and hotter. There was no time to rest and water their panting\nhorses. Only once, when they crossed a shallow stretch of water, the\npoor animals bent their heads and caught a few gulps from the cool\nstream, and the One-eyed Hans washed a part of the soot from his hands\nand face. On and on they rode; never once did the Baron Conrad move his\nhead or alter that steadfast look as, gazing straight before him, he\nrode steadily forward along the endless stretch of road, with poor\nlittle Otto's yellow head and white face resting against his steel-clad\nshoulder--and St. Michaelsburg still eight leagues away.\n\nA little rise of ground lay before them, and as they climbed it, all,\nexcepting the baron, turned their heads as with one accord and looked\nbehind them. Then more than one heart failed, for through the leaves\nof the trees below, they caught the glint of armor of those who\nfollowed--not more than a mile away. The next moment they swept over the\ncrest, and there, below them, lay the broad shining river, and nearer a\ntributary stream spanned by a rude, narrow, three-arched, stone bridge\nwhere the road crossed the deep, slow-moving water.\n\nDown the slope plodded the weary horses, and so to the bridge-head.\n\n\"Halt,\" cried the baron suddenly, and drew rein.\n\nThe others stood bewildered. What did he mean to do? He turned to Hans\nand his blue eyes shone like steel.\n\n\"Hans,\" said he, in his deep voice, \"thou hast served me long and truly;\nwilt thou for this one last time do my bidding?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said Hans, briefly.\n\n\"Swear it,\" said the Baron.\n\n\"I swear it,\" said Hans, and he drew the sign of the cross upon his\nheart.\n\n\"That is good,\" said the Baron, grimly. \"Then take thou this child,\nand with the others ride with all the speed that thou canst to St.\nMichaelsburg. Give the child into the charge of the Abbot Otto. Tell\nhim how that I have sworn fealty to the Emperor, and what I have gained\nthereby--my castle burnt, my people slain, and this poor, simple child,\nmy only son, mutilated by my enemy.\n\n\"And thou, my Lord Baron?\" said Hans.\n\n\"I will stay here,\" said the Baron, quietly, \"and keep back those who\nfollow as long as God will give me grace so to do.\"\n\nA murmur of remonstrance rose among the faithful few who were with\nhim, two of whom were near of kin. But Conrad of Drachenhausen turned\nfiercely upon them.\n\n\"How now,\" said he, \"have I fallen so low in my troubles that even ye\ndare to raise your voices against me? By the good Heaven, I will begin\nmy work here by slaying the first man who dares to raise word against\nmy bidding.\" Then he turned from them. \"Here, Hans,\" said he, \"take the\nboy; and remember, knave, what thou hast sworn.\"\n\nHe pressed Otto close to his breast in one last embrace. \"My little\nchild,\" he murmured, \"try not to hate thy father when thou thinkest of\nhim hereafter, even though he be hard and bloody as thou knowest.\"\n\nBut with his suffering and weakness, little Otto knew nothing of what\nwas passing; it was only as in a faint flickering dream that he lived in\nwhat was done around him.\n\n\"Farewell, Otto,\" said the Baron, but Otto's lips only moved faintly in\nanswer. His father kissed him upon either cheek. \"Come, Hans,\" said\nhe, hastily, \"take him hence;\" and he loosed Otto's arms from about his\nneck.\n\nHans took Otto upon the saddle in front of him.\n\n\"Oh! my dear Lord Baron,\" said he, and then stopped with a gulp, and\nturned his grotesquely twitching face aside.\n\n\"Go,\" said the Baron, harshly, \"there is no time to lose in woman's\ntears.\"\n\n\"Farewell, Conrad! farewell, Conrad!\" said his two kinsmen, and coming\nforward they kissed him upon the cheek then they turned and rode away\nafter Hans, and Baron Conrad was left alone to face his mortal foe.\n\n\n\n\nXIII. How Baron Conrad Held the Bridge.\n\nAs the last of his followers swept around the curving road and was lost\nto sight, Baron Conrad gave himself a shake, as though to drive away the\nthoughts that lay upon him. Then he rode slowly forward to the middle of\nthe bridge, where he wheeled his horse so as to face his coming enemies.\nHe lowered the vizor of his helmet and bolted it to its place, and then\nsaw that sword and dagger were loose in the scabbard and easy to draw\nwhen the need for drawing should arise.\n\n\nDown the steep path from the hill above swept the pursuing horsemen.\nDown the steep path to the bridge-head and there drew rein; for in the\nmiddle of the narrow way sat the motionless, steel-clad figure upon the\ngreat war-horse, with wide, red, panting nostrils, and body streaked\nwith sweat and flecked with patches of foam.\n\nOne side of the roadway of the bridge was guarded by a low stone wall;\nthe other side was naked and open and bare to the deep, slow-moving\nwater beneath. It was a dangerous place to attack a desperate man clad\nin armor of proof.\n\n\"Forward!\" cried Baron Henry, but not a soul stirred in answer, and\nstill the iron-clad figure sat motionless and erect upon the panting\nhorse.\n\n\"How,\" cried the Baron Henry, \"are ye afraid of one man? Then follow\nme!\" and he spurred forward to the bridge-head. But still no one moved\nin answer, and the Lord of Trutz-Drachen reined back his horse again.\nHe wheeled his horse and glared round upon the stolid faces of his\nfollowers, until his eyes seemed fairly to blaze with passion beneath\nthe bars of his vizor.\n\nBaron Conrad gave a roar of laughter. \"How now,\" he cried; \"are ye all\nafraid of one man? Is there none among ye that dares come forward and\nmeet me? I know thee, Baron Henry thou art not afraid to cut off the\nhand of a little child. Hast thou not now the courage to face the\nfather?\"\n\nBaron Henry gnashed his teeth with rage as he glared around upon the\nfaces of his men-at-arms. Suddenly his eye lit upon one of them. \"Ha!\nCarl Spigler,\" he cried, \"thou hast thy cross-bow with thee;--shoot me\ndown yonder dog! Nay,\" he said, \"thou canst do him no harm under his\narmor; shoot the horse upon which he sits.\"\n\nBaron Conrad heard the speech. \"Oh! thou coward villain!\" he cried,\n\"stay; do not shoot the good horse. I will dismount and fight ye upon\nfoot.\" Thereupon, armed as he was, he leaped clashing from his horse and\nturning the animal's head, gave it a slap upon the flank. The good horse\nfirst trotted and then walked to the further end of the bridge, where it\nstopped and began cropping at the grass that grew beside the road.\n\n\"Now then!\" cried Baron Henry, fiercely, \"now then, ye cannot fear him,\nvillains! Down with him! forward!\"\n\nSlowly the troopers spurred their horses forward upon the bridge and\ntoward that one figure that, grasping tightly the great two-handed\nsword, stood there alone guarding the passage.\n\nThen Baron Conrad whirled the great blade above his head, until it\ncaught the sunlight and flashed again. He did not wait for the attack,\nbut when the first of the advancing horsemen had come within a few feet\nof him, he leaped with a shout upon them. The fellow thrust at him with\nhis lance, and the Baron went staggering a few feet back, but instantly\nhe recovered himself and again leaped forward. The great sword flashed\nin the air, whistling; it fell, and the nearest man dropped his lance,\nclattering, and with a loud, inarticulate cry, grasped the mane of his\nhorse with both hands. Again the blade whistled in the air, and this\ntime it was stained with red. Again it fell, and with another shrill cry\nthe man toppled headlong beneath the horse's feet. The next instant they\nwere upon him, each striving to strike at the one figure, to ride him\ndown, or to thrust him down with their lances. There was no room now to\nswing the long blade, but holding the hilt in both hands, Baron Conrad\nthrust with it as though it were a lance, stabbing at horse or man, it\nmattered not. Crowded upon the narrow roadway of the bridge, those who\nattacked had not only to guard themselves against the dreadful strokes\nof that terrible sword, but to keep their wounded horses (rearing and\nmad with fright) from toppling bodily over with them into the water\nbeneath.\n\nPresently the cry was raised, \"Back! back!\" And those nearest the Baron\nbegan reining in their horses. \"Forward!\" roared Baron Henry, from the\nmidst of the crowd; but in spite of his command, and even the blows that\nhe gave, those behind were borne back by those in front, struggling and\nshouting, and the bridge was cleared again excepting for three figures\nthat lay motionless upon the roadway, and that one who, with the\nbrightness of his armor dimmed and stained, leaned panting against the\nwall of the bridge.\n\nThe Baron Henry raged like a madman. Gnashing his teeth together, he\nrode back a little way; then turning and couching his lance, he suddenly\nclapped spurs to his horse, and the next instant came thundering down\nupon his solitary enemy.\n\nBaron Conrad whirled his sword in the air, as he saw the other coming\nlike a thunderbolt upon him; he leaped aside, and the lance passed close\nto him. As it passed he struck, and the iron point flew from the shaft\nof the spear at the blow, and fell clattering upon the stone roadway of\nthe bridge.\n\nBaron Henry drew in his horse until it rested upon its haunches, then\nslowly reined it backward down the bridge, still facing his foe,\nand still holding the wooden stump of the lance in his hand. At the\nbridge-head he flung it from him.\n\n\"Another lance!\" he cried, hoarsely. One was silently reached to him\nand he took it, his hand trembling with rage. Again he rode to a little\ndistance and wheeled his horse; then, driving his steel spurs into its\nquivering side, he came again thundering down upon the other. Once more\nthe terrible sword whirled in the air and fell, but this time the lance\nwas snatched to one side and the blow fell harmlessly. The next instant,\nand with a twitch of the bridle-rein, the horse struck full and fair\nagainst the man.\n\nConrad of Drachenhausen was whirled backward and downward, and the cruel\niron hoofs crashed over his prostrate body, as horse and man passed with\na rush beyond him and to the bridge-head beyond. A shout went up from\nthose who stood watching. The next moment the prostrate figure rose and\nstaggered blindly to the side of the bridge, and stood leaning against\nthe stone wall.\n\nAt the further end of the bridge Baron Henry had wheeled his horse. Once\nagain he couched lance, and again he drove down upon his bruised and\nwounded enemy. This time the lance struck full and fair, and those who\nwatched saw the steel point pierce the iron breast-plate and then snap\nshort, leaving the barbed point within the wound.\n\nBaron Conrad sunk to his knees and the Roderburg, looming upon his horse\nabove him, unsheathed his sword to finish the work he had begun.\n\nThen those who stood looking on saw a wondrous thing happen: the wounded\nman rose suddenly to his feet, and before his enemy could strike he\nleaped, with a great and bitter cry of agony and despair, upon him as he\nsat in the saddle above.\n\nHenry of Trutz-Drachen grasped at his horse's mane, but the attack\nwas so fierce, so sudden, and so unexpected that before he could save\nhimself he was dragged to one side and fell crashing in his armor upon\nthe stone roadway of the bridge.\n\n\"The dragon! the dragon!\" roared Baron Conrad, in a voice of thunder,\nand with the energy of despair he dragged his prostrate foe toward the\nopen side of the bridge.\n\n\"Forward!\" cried the chief of the Trutz-Drachen men, and down they rode\nupon the struggling knights to the rescue of their master in this new\ndanger. But they were too late.\n\nThere was a pause at the edge of the bridge, for Baron Henry had gained\nhis feet and, stunned and bewildered as he was by the suddenness of his\nfall, he was now struggling fiercely, desperately. For a moment they\nstood swaying backward and forward, clasped in one another's arms, the\nblood from the wounded man's breast staining the armor of both. The\nmoment passed and then, with a shower of stones and mortar from beneath\ntheir iron-shod heels, they toppled and fell; there was a thunderous\nsplash in the water below, and as the men-at-arms came hurrying up and\npeered with awe-struck faces over the parapet of the bridge, they saw\nthe whirling eddies sweep down with the current of the stream, a few\nbubbles rise to the surface of the water, and then--nothing; for the\nsmooth river flowed onward as silently as ever.\n\nPresently a loud voice burst through the awed hush that followed. It\ncame from William of Roderburg, Baron Henry's kinsman.\n\n\"Forward!\" he cried. A murmur of voices from the others was all the\nanswer that he received. \"Forward!\" cried the young man again, \"the boy\nand those with him are not so far away but that we might yet catch up\nwith them.\"\n\nThen one of the men spoke up in answer--a man with a seamed,\nweather-beaten face and crisp grizzled hair. \"Nay,\" said he, \"our Lord\nBaron is gone, and this is no quarrel of ours; here be four of us that\nare wounded and three I misdoubt that are dead; why should we follow\nfurther only to suffer more blows for no gain?\" A growl of assent rose\nfrom those that stood around, and William of Roderburg saw that nothing\nmore was to be done by the Trutz-Dragons that day.\n\n\n\n\nXIV. How Otto Saw the Great Emperor.\n\nThrough weakness and sickness and faintness, Otto had lain in a half\nswoon through all that long journey under the hot May sun. It was as in\na dreadful nightmare that he had heard on and on and on that monotonous\nthrobbing of galloping hoofs upon the ground; had felt that last kiss\nthat his father had given him upon his cheek. Then the onward ride\nagain, until all faded away into a dull mist and he knew no more. When\nnext he woke it was with the pungent smell of burned vinegar in his\nnostrils and with the feeling of a cool napkin bathing his brow. He\nopened his eyes and then closed them again, thinking he must have been\nin a dream, for he lay in his old room at the peaceful monastery of the\nWhite Cross on the hill; the good Father Abbot sat near by, gazing upon\nhis face with the old absent student look, Brother John sat in the deep\nwindow seat also gazing at him, and Brother Theodore, the leech of the\nmonastery, sat beside him bathing his head. Beside these old familiar\nfaces were the faces of those who had been with him in that long flight;\nthe One-eyed Hans, old Master Nicholas his kinsman, and the others.\nSo he closed his eyes, thinking that maybe it was all a dream. But the\nsharp throbbing of the poor stump at his wrist soon taught him that he\nwas still awake.\n\n\"Am I then really home in St. Michaelsburg again?\" he murmured, without\nunclosing his eyes.\n\nBrother Theodore began snuffling through his nose; there was a pause.\n\"Yes,\" said the old Abbot at last, and his gentle voice trembled as\nhe spoke; \"yes, my dear little child, thou art back again in thine own\nhome; thou hast not been long out in the great world, but truly thou\nhast had a sharp and bitter trial of it.\"\n\n\"But they will not take me away again, will they?\" said Otto quickly,\nunclosing his blue eyes.\n\n\"Nay,\" said the Abbot, gently; \"not until thou art healed in body and\nart ready and willing to go.\"\n\nThree months and more had passed, and Otto was well again; and now,\nescorted by One-eyed Hans and those faithful few who had clung to the\nBaron Conrad through his last few bitter days, he was riding into the\nquaint old town of Nurnburg; for the Emperor Rudolph was there at that\ntime, waiting for King Ottocar of Bohemia to come thither and answer\nthe imperial summons before the Council, and Otto was travelling to the\ncourt.\n\nAs they rode in through the gates of the town, Otto looked up at the\nhigh-peaked houses with their overhanging gables, the like of which he\nhad never seen before, and he stared with his round blue eyes at seeing\nthem so crowded together along the length of the street. But most of\nall he wondered at the number of people that passed hither and thither,\njostling each other in their hurry, and at the tradesmen's booths\nopening upon the street with the wonderful wares hanging within; armor\nat the smiths, glittering ornaments at the goldsmiths, and rich fabrics\nof silks and satins at the mercers. He had never seen anything so rich\nand grand in all of his life, for little Otto had never been in a town\nbefore.\n\n\"Oh! look,\" he cried, \"at that wonderful lady; see, holy father! sure\nthe Emperor's wife can be no finer than that lady.\"\n\nThe Abbot smiled. \"Nay, Otto,\" said he, \"that is but a burgher's wife or\ndaughter; the ladies at the Emperor's court are far grander than such as\nshe.\"\n\n\"So!\" said Otto, and then fell silent with wonder.\n\nAnd now, at last the great moment had come when little Otto with his own\neyes was to behold the mighty Emperor who ruled over all the powerful\nkingdoms of Germany and Austria, and Italy and Bohemia, and other\nkingdoms and principalities and states. His heart beat so that he could\nhardly speak as, for a moment, the good Abbot who held him by the hand\nstopped outside of the arrased doorway to whisper some last instructions\ninto his ear. Then they entered the apartment.\n\nIt was a long, stone-paved room. The floor was covered with rich rugs\nand the walls were hung with woven tapestry wherein were depicted\nknights and ladies in leafy gardens and kings and warriors at battle.\nA long row of high glazed windows extended along the length of the\napartment, flooding it with the mellow light of the autumn day. At\nthe further end of the room, far away, and standing by a great carved\nchimney place wherein smouldered the remains of a fire, stood a group of\nnobles in gorgeous dress of velvet and silks, and with glittering golden\nchains hung about their necks.\n\nOne figure stood alone in front of the great yawning fireplace. His\nhands were clasped behind him, and his look bent thoughtfully upon the\nfloor. He was dressed only in a simple gray robe without ornament or\nadornment, a plain leathern belt girded his waist, and from it hung a\nsword with a bone hilt encased in a brown leathern scabbard. A noble\nstag-hound lay close behind him, curled up upon the floor, basking in\nthe grateful warmth of the fire.\n\nAs the Father Abbot and Otto drew near he raised his head and looked\nat them. It was a plain, homely face that Otto saw, with a wrinkled\nforehead and a long mouth drawn down at the corners. It was the face of\na good, honest burgher burdened with the cares of a prosperous trade.\n\"Who can he be,\" thought Otto, \"and why does the poor man stand there\namong all the great nobles?\"\n\nBut the Abbot walked straight up to him and kneeled upon the floor,\nand little Otto, full of wonder, did the same. It was the great Emperor\nRudolph.\n\n\"Who have we here,\" said the Emperor, and he bent his brow upon the\nAbbot and the boy.\n\n\"Sire,\" said Abbot Otto, \"we have humbly besought you by petition, in\nthe name of your late vassal, Baron Conrad of Vuelph of Drachenhausen,\nfor justice to this his son, the Baron Otto, whom, sire, as you may see,\nhath been cruelly mutilated at the hands of Baron Henry of Roderburg of\nTrutz-Drachen. He hath moreover been despoiled of his lands, his castle\nburnt, and his household made prisoner.\"\n\nThe Emperor frowned until the shaggy eyebrows nearly hid the keen gray\ntwinkle of the eyes beneath. \"Yes,\" said he, \"I do remember me of\nthat petition, and have given it consideration both in private and in\ncouncil.\" He turned to the group of listening nobles. \"Look,\" said he,\n\"at this little child marred by the inhumanity and the cruelty of those\nrobber villains. By heavens! I will put down their lawless rapine, if I\nhave to give every castle from the north to the south to the flames and\nto the sword.\" Then turning to Otto again, \"Poor little child,\" said he,\n\"thy wrongs shall be righted, and so far as they are able, those cruel\nRoderburgs shall pay thee penny for penny, and grain for grain, for what\nthou hast lost; and until such indemnity hath been paid the family of\nthe man who wrought this deed shall be held as surety.\"\n\nLittle Otto looked up in the kind, rugged face above him. \"Nay, Lord\nEmperor,\" said he, in his quaint, quiet way, \"there are but two in the\nfamily--the mother and the daughter--and I have promised to marry the\nlittle girl when she and I are old enough; so, if you please, I would\nnot have harm happen to her.\"\n\nThe Emperor continued to look down at the kneeling boy, and at last he\ngave a short, dry laugh. \"So be it,\" said he, \"thy plan is not without\nits wisdom. Mayhap it is all for the best that the affair should be\nended thus peacefully. The estates of the Roderburgs shall be held in\ntrust for thee until thou art come of age; otherwise it shall be as thou\nhast proposed, the little maiden shall be taken into ward under our own\ncare. And as to thee--art thou willing that I should take thee under my\nown charge in the room of thy father, who is dead?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said Otto, simply, \"I am willing, for it seems to me that thou\nart a good man.\"\n\nThe nobles who stood near smiled at the boy's speech. As for the\nEmperor, he laughed outright. \"I give thee thanks, my Lord Baron,\" said\nhe; \"there is no one in all my court who has paid me greater courtesy\nthan that.\"\n\nSo comes the end of our tale.\n\nBut perhaps you may like to know what happened afterward, for no one\ncares to leave the thread of a story without tying a knot in it.\n\nEight years had passed, and Otto grew up to manhood in the Emperor's\ncourt, and was with him through war and peace.\n\nBut he himself never drew sword or struck a blow, for the right hand\nthat hung at his side was of pure silver, and the hard, cold fingers\nnever closed. Folks called him \"Otto of the Silver Hand,\" but perhaps\nthere was another reason than that for the name that had been given him,\nfor the pure, simple wisdom that the old monks of the White Cross on\nthe hill had taught him, clung to him through all the honors that the\nEmperor bestowed upon his favorite, and as he grew older his words were\nlistened to and weighed by those who were high in Council, and even by\nthe Emperor himself.\n\nAnd now for the end of all.\n\nOne day Otto stood uncertainly at the doorway of a room in the imperial\ncastle, hesitating before he entered; and yet there was nothing so very\ndreadful within, only one poor girl whose heart fluttered more than his.\nPoor little Pauline, whom he had not seen since that last day in the\nblack cell at Trutz-Drachen.\n\nAt last he pushed aside the hangings and entered the room.\n\nShe was sitting upon a rude bench beside the window, looking at him out\nof her great, dark eyes.\n\nHe stopped short and stood for a moment confused and silent; for he had\nno thought in his mind but of the little girl whom he had last seen, and\nfor a moment he stood confused before the fair maiden with her great,\nbeautiful dark eyes.\n\nShe on her part beheld a tall, slender youth with curling, golden hair,\none hand white and delicate, the other of pure and shining silver.\n\nHe came to her and took her hand and set it to his lips, and all that\nshe could do was to gaze with her great, dark eyes upon the hero of whom\nshe had heard so many talk; the favorite of the Emperor; the wise young\nOtto of the Silver Hand.\n\n\n\n\nAfterword\n\nThe ruins of Drachenhausen were rebuilt, for the walls were as sound as\never, though empty and gaping to the sky; but it was no longer the den\nof a robber baron for beneath the scutcheon over the great gate was\ncarved a new motto of the Vuelphs; a motto which the Emperor Rudolph\nhimself had given:\n\n\"Manus argentea quam manus ferrea melior est.\"\n\n\n\n\n\nEnd of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Otto of the Silver Hand, by Howard Pyle\n\nNow, answer the question based on the story asconcisely as you can, using a single phrase if possible. Do not provide any explanation.\n\nQuestion: Why didn't Baron Henry just kill Otto instead of cutting his hand off?\n\nAnswer:"}
{"question_id": 130, "category": "longbench_narrativeqa", "reference": ["2419"], "prompt": "You are given a story, which can be either a novel or a movie script, and a question. Answer the question asconcisely as you can, using a single phrase if possible. Do not provide any explanation.\n\nStory: Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nARMAGEDDON--2419 A.D.\n\n_By Philip Francis Nowlan_\n\n\n    _Here, once more, is a real scientifiction story plus. It is a story\n    which will make the heart of many readers leap with joy._\n\n    _We have rarely printed a story in this magazine that for scientific\n    interest, as well as suspense, could hold its own with this\n    particular story. We prophesy that this story will become more\n    valuable as the years go by. It certainly holds a number of\n    interesting prophecies, of which no doubt, many will come true. For\n    wealth of science, it will be hard to beat for some time to come. It\n    is one of those rare stories that will bear reading and re-reading\n    many times._\n\n    _This story has impressed us so favorably, that we hope the author\n    may be induced to write a sequel to it soon._\n\n\n\n\nForeword\n\n\nElsewhere I have set down, for whatever interest they have in this, the\n25th Century, my personal recollections of the 20th Century.\n\nNow it occurs to me that my memoirs of the 25th Century may have an\nequal interest 500 years from now--particularly in view of that unique\nperspective from which I have seen the 25th Century, entering it as I\ndid, in one leap across a gap of 492 years.\n\nThis statement requires elucidation. There are still many in the world\nwho are not familiar with my unique experience. Five centuries from now\nthere may be many more, especially if civilization is fated to endure\nany worse convulsions than those which have occurred between 1975 A.D.\nand the present time.\n\nI should state therefore, that I, Anthony Rogers, am, so far as I know,\nthe only man alive whose normal span of eighty-one years of life has\nbeen spread over a period of 573 years. To be precise, I lived the first\ntwenty-nine years of my life between 1898 and 1927; the other fifty-two\nsince 2419. The gap between these two, a period of nearly five hundred\nyears, I spent in a state of suspended animation, free from the ravages\nof katabolic processes, and without any apparent effect on my physical\nor mental faculties.\n\nWhen I began my long sleep, man had just begun his real conquest of the\nair in a sudden series of transoceanic flights in airplanes driven by\ninternal combustion motors. He had barely begun to speculate on the\npossibilities of harnessing sub-atomic forces, and had made no further\npractical penetration into the field of ethereal pulsations than the\nprimitive radio and television of that day. The United States of America\nwas the most powerful nation in the world, its political, financial,\nindustrial and scientific influence being supreme; and in the arts also\nit was rapidly climbing into leadership.\n\nI awoke to find the America I knew a total wreck--to find Americans a\nhunted race in their own land, hiding in the dense forests that covered\nthe shattered and leveled ruins of their once magnificent cities,\ndesperately preserving, and struggling to develop in their secret\nretreats, the remnants of their culture and science--and the undying\nflame of their sturdy independence.\n\nWorld domination was in the hands of Mongolians and the center of world\npower lay in inland China, with Americans one of the few races of\nmankind unsubdued--and it must be admitted in fairness to the truth, not\nworth the trouble of subduing in the eyes of the Han Airlords who ruled\nNorth America as titular tributaries of the Most Magnificent.\n\nFor they needed not the forests in which the Americans lived, nor the\nresources of the vast territories these forests covered. With the\nperfection to which they had reduced the synthetic production of\nnecessities and luxuries, their remarkable development of scientific\nprocesses and mechanical accomplishment of work, they had no economic\nneed for the forests, and no economic desire for the enslaved labor of\nan unruly race.\n\nThey had all they needed for their magnificently luxurious and degraded\nscheme of civilization, within the walls of the fifteen cities of\nsparkling glass they had flung skyward on the sites of ancient American\ncenters, into the bowels of the earth underneath them, and with\nrelatively small surrounding areas of agriculture.\n\nComplete domination of the air rendered communication between these\ncenters a matter of ease and safety. Occasional destructive raids on the\nwaste lands were considered all that was necessary to keep the \"wild\"\nAmericans on the run within the shelter of their forests, and prevent\ntheir becoming a menace to the Han civilization.\n\nBut nearly three hundred years of easily maintained security, the last\ncentury of which had been nearly sterile in scientific, social and\neconomic progress, had softened and devitalized the Hans.\n\nIt had likewise developed, beneath the protecting foliage of the forest,\nthe growth of a vigorous new American civilization, remarkable in the\nmobility and flexibility of its organization, in its conquest of almost\ninsuperable obstacles, in the development and guarding of its industrial\nand scientific resources, all in anticipation of that \"Day of Hope\" to\nwhich it had been looking forward for generations, when it would be\nstrong enough to burst from the green chrysalis of the forests, soar\ninto the upper air lanes and destroy the yellow incubus.\n\nAt the time I awoke, the \"Day of Hope\" was almost at hand. I shall not\nattempt to set forth a detailed history of the Second War of\nIndependence, for that has been recorded already by better historians\nthan I am. Instead I shall confine myself largely to the part I was\nfortunate enough to play in this struggle and in the events leading up\nto it.\n\n[Illustration: Seen upon the ultroscope viewplate, the battle looked as\nthough it were being fought in daylight, perhaps on a cloudy day, while\nthe explosions of the rockets appeared as flashes of extra brilliance.]\n\nIt all resulted from my interest in radioactive gases. During the latter\npart of 1927 my company, the American Radioactive Gas Corporation, had\nbeen keeping me busy investigating reports of unusual phenomena observed\nin certain abandoned coal mines near the Wyoming Valley, in\nPennsylvania.\n\nWith two assistants and a complete equipment of scientific instruments,\nI began the exploration of a deserted working in a mountainous district,\nwhere several weeks before, a number of mining engineers had reported\ntraces of carnotite[1] and what they believed to be radioactive gases.\nTheir report was not without foundation, it was apparent from the\noutset, for in our examination of the upper levels of the mine, our\ninstruments indicated a vigorous radioactivity.\n\n    [1] A hydrovanadate of uranium, and other metals; used as a source\n    of radium compounds.\n\nOn the morning of December 15th, we descended to one of the lowest\nlevels. To our surprise, we found no water there. Obviously it had\ndrained off through some break in the strata. We noticed too that the\nrock in the side walls of the shaft was soft, evidently due to the\nradioactivity, and pieces crumbled under foot rather easily. We made our\nway cautiously down the shaft, when suddenly the rotted timbers above us\ngave way.\n\nI jumped ahead, barely escaping the avalanche of coal and soft rock, but\nmy companions, who were several paces behind me, were buried under it,\nand undoubtedly met instant death.\n\nI was trapped. Return was impossible. With my electric torch I explored\nthe shaft to its end, but could find no other way out. The air became\nincreasingly difficult to breathe, probably from the rapid accumulation\nof the radioactive gas. In a little while my senses reeled and I lost\nconsciousness.\n\nWhen I awoke, there was a cool and refreshing circulation of air in the\nshaft. I had no thought that I had been unconscious more than a few\nhours, although it seems that the radioactive gas had kept me in a state\nof suspended animation for something like 500 years. My awakening, I\nfigured out later, had been due to some shifting of the strata which\nreopened the shaft and cleared the atmosphere in the working. This must\nhave been the case, for I was able to struggle back up the shaft over a\npile of debris, and stagger up the long incline to the mouth of the\nmine, where an entirely different world, overgrown with a vast forest\nand no visible sign of human habitation, met my eyes.\n\nI shall pass over the days of mental agony that followed in my attempt\nto grasp the meaning of it all. There were times when I felt that I was\non the verge of insanity. I roamed the unfamiliar forest like a lost\nsoul. Had it not been for the necessity of improvising traps and crude\nclubs with which to slay my food, I believe I should have gone mad.\n\nSuffice it to say, however, that I survived this psychic crisis. I shall\nbegin my narrative proper with my first contact with Americans of the\nyear 2419 A.D.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nFloating Men\n\n\nMy first glimpse of a human being of the 25th Century was obtained\nthrough a portion of woodland where the trees were thinly scattered,\nwith a dense forest beyond.\n\nI had been wandering along aimlessly, and hopelessly, musing over my\nstrange fate, when I noticed a figure that cautiously backed out of the\ndense growth across the glade. I was about to call out joyfully, but\nthere was something furtive about the figure that prevented me. The\nboy's attention (for it seemed to be a lad of fifteen or sixteen) was\ncentered tensely on the heavy growth of trees from which he had just\nemerged.\n\nHe was clad in rather tight-fitting garments entirely of green, and wore\na helmet-like cap of the same color. High around his waist he wore a\nbroad, thick belt, which bulked up in the back across the shoulders,\ninto something of the proportions of a knapsack.\n\nAs I was taking in these details, there came a vivid flash and heavy\ndetonation, like that of a hand grenade, not far to the left of him. He\nthrew up an arm and staggered a bit in a queer, gliding way; then he\nrecovered himself and slipped cautiously away from the place of the\nexplosion, crouching slightly, and still facing the denser part of the\nforest. Every few steps he would raise his arm, and point into the\nforest with something he held in his hand. Wherever he pointed there was\na terrific explosion, deeper in among the trees. It came to me then that\nhe was shooting with some form of pistol, though there was neither flash\nnor detonation from the muzzle of the weapon itself.\n\nAfter firing several times, he seemed to come to a sudden resolution,\nand turning in my general direction, leaped--to my amazement sailing\nthrough the air between the sparsely scattered trees in such a jump as I\nhad never in my life seen before. That leap must have carried him a full\nfifty feet, although at the height of his arc, he was not more than ten\nor twelve feet from the ground.\n\nWhen he alighted, his foot caught in a projecting root, and he sprawled\ngently forward. I say \"gently\" for he did not crash down as I expected\nhim to do. The only thing I could compare it with was a slow-motion\ncinema, although I had never seen one in which horizontal motions were\nregistered at normal speed and only the vertical movements were slowed\ndown.\n\nDue to my surprise, I suppose my brain did not function with its normal\nquickness, for I gazed at the prone figure for several seconds before I\nsaw the blood that oozed out from under the tight green cap. Regaining\nmy power of action, I dragged him out of sight back of the big tree. For\na few moments I busied myself in an attempt to staunch the flow of\nblood. The wound was not a deep one. My companion was more dazed than\nhurt. But what of the pursuers?\n\nI took the weapon from his grasp and examined it hurriedly. It was not\nunlike the automatic pistol to which I was accustomed, except that it\napparently fired with a button instead of a trigger. I inserted several\nfresh rounds of ammunition into its magazine from my companion's belt,\nas rapidly as I could, for I soon heard, near us, the suppressed\nconversation of his pursuers.\n\nThere followed a series of explosions round about us, but none very\nclose. They evidently had not spotted our hiding place, and were firing\nat random.\n\nI waited tensely, balancing the gun in my hand, to accustom myself to\nits weight and probable throw.\n\nThen I saw a movement in the green foliage of a tree not far away, and\nthe head and face of a man appeared. Like my companion, he was clad\nentirely in green, which made his figure difficult to distinguish. But\nhis face could be seen clearly. It was an evil face, and had murder in\nit.\n\nThat decided me. I raised the gun and fired. My aim was bad, for there\nwas no kick in the gun, as I had expected, and I hit the trunk of the\ntree several feet below him. It blew him from his perch like a crumpled\nbit of paper, and he _floated_ down to the ground, like some limp, dead\nthing, gently lowered by an invisible hand. The tree, its trunk blown\napart by the explosion, crashed down.\n\nThere followed another series of explosions around us. These guns we\nwere using made no sound in the firing, and my opponents were evidently\nas much at sea as to my position as I was to theirs. So I made no\nattempt to reply to their fire, contenting myself with keeping a sharp\nlookout in their general direction. And patience had its reward.\n\nVery soon I saw a cautious movement in the top of another tree. Exposing\nmyself as little as possible, I aimed carefully at the tree trunk and\nfired again. A shriek followed the explosion. I heard the tree crash\ndown; then a groan.\n\nThere was silence for a while. Then I heard a faint sound of boughs\nswishing. I shot three times in its direction, pressing the button as\nrapidly as I could. Branches crashed down where my shells had exploded,\nbut there was no body.\n\nThen I saw one of them. He was starting one of those amazing leaps from\nthe bough of one tree to another, about forty feet away.\n\nI threw up my gun impulsively and fired. By now I had gotten the feel of\nthe weapon, and my aim was good. I hit him. The \"bullet\" must have\npenetrated his body and exploded. For one moment I saw him flying\nthrough the air. Then the explosion, and he had vanished. He never\nfinished his leap. It was annihilation.\n\nHow many more of them there were I don't know. But this must have been\ntoo much for them. They used a final round of shells on us, all of which\nexploded harmlessly, and shortly after I heard them swishing and\ncrashing away from us through the tree tops. Not one of them descended\nto earth.\n\nNow I had time to give some attention to my companion. She was, I found,\na girl, and not a boy. Despite her bulky appearance, due to the peculiar\nbelt strapped around her body high up under the arms, she was very\nslender, and very pretty.\n\nThere was a stream not far away, from which I brought water and bathed\nher face and wound.\n\nApparently the mystery of these long leaps, the monkey-like ability to\njump from bough to bough, and of the bodies that floated gently down\ninstead of falling, lay in the belt. The thing was some sort of\nanti-gravity belt that almost balanced the weight of the wearer, thereby\ntremendously multiplying the propulsive power of the leg muscles, and\nthe lifting power of the arms.\n\nWhen the girl came to, she regarded me as curiously as I did her, and\npromptly began to quiz me. Her accent and intonation puzzled me a lot,\nbut nevertheless we were able to understand each other fairly well,\nexcept for certain words and phrases. I explained what had happened\nwhile she lay unconscious, and she thanked me simply for saving her\nlife.\n\n\"You are a strange exchange,\" she said, eying my clothing quizzically.\nEvidently she found it mirth provoking by contrast with her own neatly\nefficient garb. \"Don't you understand what I mean by 'exchange?' I mean\nah--let me see--a stranger, somebody from some other gang. What gang do\nyou belong to?\" (She pronounced it \"gan,\" with only a suspicion of a\nnasal sound.)\n\nI laughed. \"I'm not a gangster,\" I said. But she evidently did not\nunderstand this word. \"I don't belong to any gang,\" I explained, \"and\nnever did. Does everybody belong to a gang nowadays?\"\n\n\"Naturally,\" she said, frowning. \"If you don't belong to a gang, where\nand how do you live? Why have you not found and joined a gang? How do\nyou eat? Where do you get your clothing?\"\n\n\"I've been eating wild game for the past two weeks,\" I explained, \"and\nthis clothing I--er--ah--.\" I paused, wondering how I could explain that\nit must be many hundred years old.\n\nIn the end I saw I would have to tell my story as well as I could,\npiecing it together with my assumptions as to what had happened. She\nlistened patiently; incredulously at first, but with more confidence as\nI went on. When I had finished, she sat thinking for a long time.\n\n\"That's hard to believe,\" she said, \"but I believe it.\" She looked me\nover with frank interest.\n\n\"Were you married when you slipped into unconsciousness down in that\nmine?\" she asked me suddenly. I assured her I had never married. \"Well,\nthat simplifies matters,\" she continued. \"You see, if you were\ntechnically classed as a family man, I could take you back only as an\ninvited exchange and I, being unmarried, and no relation of yours,\ncouldn't do the inviting.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nThe Forest Gangs\n\n\nShe gave me a brief outline of the very peculiar social and economic\nsystem under which her people lived. At least it seemed very peculiar\nfrom my 20th Century viewpoint.\n\nI learned with amazement that exactly 492 years had passed over my head\nas I lay unconscious in the mine.\n\nWilma, for that was her name, did not profess to be a historian, and so\ncould give me only a sketchy outline of the wars that had been fought,\nand the manner in which such radical changes had come about. It seemed\nthat another war had followed the First World War, in which nearly all\nthe European nations had banded together to break the financial and\nindustrial power of America. They succeeded in their purpose, though\nthey were beaten, for the war was a terrific one, and left America, like\nthemselves, gasping, bleeding and disorganized, with only the hollow\nshell of a victory.\n\nThis opportunity had been seized by the Russian Soviets, who had made a\ncoalition with the Chinese, to sweep over all Europe and reduce it to a\nstate of chaos.\n\nAmerica, industrially geared to world production and the world trade,\ncollapsed economically, and there ensued a long period of stagnation and\ndesperate attempts at economic reconstruction. But it was impossible to\nstave off war with the Mongolians, who by now had subjugated the\nRussians, and were aiming at a world empire.\n\nIn about 2109, it seems, the conflict was finally precipitated. The\nMongolians, with overwhelming fleets of great airships, and a science\nthat far outstripped that of crippled America, swept in over the Pacific\nand Atlantic Coasts, and down from Canada, annihilating American\naircraft, armies and cities with their terrific _disintegrator_ rays.\nThese rays were projected from a machine not unlike a searchlight in\nappearance, the reflector of which, however, was not material substance,\nbut a complicated balance of interacting electronic forces. This\nresulted in a terribly destructive beam. Under its influence, material\nsubstance melted into \"nothingness\"; i. e., into electronic vibrations.\nIt destroyed all then known substances, from air to the most dense\nmetals and stone.\n\nThey settled down to the establishment of what became known as the Han\ndynasty in America, as a sort of province in their World Empire.\n\nThose were terrible days for the Americans. They were hunted like wild\nbeasts. Only those survived who finally found refuge in mountains,\ncanyons and forests. Government was at an end among them. Anarchy\nprevailed for several generations. Most would have been eager to submit\nto the Hans, even if it meant slavery. But the Hans did not want them,\nfor they themselves had marvelous machinery and scientific process by\nwhich all difficult labor was accomplished.\n\nUltimately they stopped their active search for, and annihilation of,\nthe widely scattered groups of now savage Americans. So long as they\nremained hidden in their forests, and did not venture near the great\ncities the Hans had built, little attention was paid to them.\n\nThen began the building of the new American civilization. Families and\nindividuals gathered together in clans or \"gangs\" for mutual protection.\nFor nearly a century they lived a nomadic and primitive life, moving\nfrom place to place, in desperate fear of the casual and occasional Han\nair raids, and the terrible disintegrator ray. As the frequency of these\nraids decreased, they began to stay permanently in given localities,\norganizing upon lines which in many respects were similar to those of\nthe military households of the Norman feudal barons, except that instead\nof gathering together in castles, their defense tactics necessitated a\ncertain scattering of living quarters for families and individuals. They\nlived virtually in the open air, in the forests, in green tents,\nresorting to camouflage tactics that would conceal their presence from\nair observers. They dug underground factories and laboratories, that\nthey might better be shielded from the electrical detectors of the\nHans. They tapped the radio communication lines of the Hans, with crude\ninstruments at first; better ones later on. They bent every effort\ntoward the redevelopment of science. For many generations they labored\nas unseen, unknown scholars of the Hans, picking up their knowledge\npiecemeal, as fast as they were able to.\n\nDuring the earlier part of this period, there were many deadly wars\nfought between the various gangs, and occasional courageous but\nchildishly futile attacks upon the Hans, followed by terribly punitive\nraids.\n\nBut as knowledge progressed, the sense of American brotherhood\nredeveloped. Reciprocal arrangements were made among the gangs over\nconstantly increasing areas. Trade developed to a certain extent, as\nbetween one gang and another. But the interchange of knowledge became\nmore important than that of goods, as skill in the handling of synthetic\nprocesses developed.\n\nWithin the gang, an economy was developed that was a compromise between\nindividual liberty and a military socialism. The right of private\nproperty was limited practically to personal possessions, but private\nprivileges were many, and sacredly regarded. Stimulation to achievement\nlay chiefly in the winning of various kinds of leadership and\nprerogatives, and only in a very limited degree in the hope of owning\nanything that might be classified as \"wealth,\" and nothing that might be\nclassified as \"resources.\" Resources of every description, for military\nsafety and efficiency, belonged as a matter of public interest to the\ncommunity as a whole.\n\nIn the meantime, through these many generations, the Hans had developed\na luxury economy, and with it the perfection of gilded vice and\ndegradation. The Americans were regarded as \"wild men of the woods.\" And\nsince they neither needed nor wanted the woods or the wild men, they\ntreated them as beasts, and were conscious of no human brotherhood with\nthem. As time went on, and synthetic processes of producing foods and\nmaterials were further developed, less and less ground was needed by the\nHans for the purposes of agriculture, and finally, even the working of\nmines was abandoned when it became cheaper to build up metal from\nelectronic vibrations than to dig them out of the ground.\n\nThe Han race, devitalized by its vices and luxuries, with machinery and\nscientific processes to satisfy its every want, with virtually no\nnecessity of labor, began to assume a defensive attitude toward the\nAmericans.\n\nAnd quite naturally, the Americans regarded the Hans with a deep, grim\nhatred. Conscious of individual superiority as men, knowing that\nlatterly they were outstripping the Hans in science and civilization,\nthey longed desperately for the day when they should be powerful enough\nto rise and annihilate the Yellow Blight that lay over the continent.\n\nAt the time of my awakening, the gangs were rather loosely organized,\nbut were considering the establishment of a special military force,\nwhose special business it would be to harry the Hans and bring down\ntheir air ships whenever possible without causing general alarm among\nthe Mongolians. This force was destined to become the nucleus of the\nnational force, when the Day of Retribution arrived. But that, however,\ndid not happen for ten years, and is another story.\n\n[Illustration: On the left of the illustration is a Han girl, and on the\nright is an American girl, who, like all of her race, is equipped with\nan inertron belt and a rocket gun.]\n\nWilma told me she was a member of the Wyoming Gang, which claimed the\nentire Wyoming Valley as its territory, under the leadership of Boss\nHart. Her mother and father were dead, and she was unmarried, so she was\nnot a \"family member.\" She lived in a little group of tents known as\nCamp 17, under a woman Camp Boss, with seven other girls.\n\nHer duties alternated between military or police scouting and factory\nwork. For the two-week period which would end the next day, she had been\non \"air patrol.\" This did not mean, as I first imagined, that she was\nflying, but rather that she was on the lookout for Han ships over this\noutlying section of the Wyoming territory, and had spent most of her\ntime perched in the tree tops scanning the skies. Had she seen one she\nwould have fired a \"drop flare\" several miles off to one side, which\nwould ignite when it was floating vertically toward the earth, so that\nthe direction or point from which it had been fired might not be guessed\nby the airship and bring a blasting play of the disintegrator ray in her\nvicinity. Other members of the air patrol would send up rockets on\nseeing hers, until finally a scout equipped with an ultrophone, which,\nunlike the ancient radio, operated on the ultronic ethereal vibrations,\nwould pass the warning simultaneously to the headquarters of the Wyoming\nGang and other communities within a radius of several hundred miles, not\nto mention the few American rocket ships that might be in the air, and\nwhich instantly would duck to cover either through forest clearings or\nby flattening down to earth in green fields where their coloring would\nprobably protect them from observation. The favorite American method of\npropulsion was known as \"_rocketing_.\" The _rocket_ is what I would\ndescribe, from my 20th Century comprehension of the matter, as an\nextremely powerful gas blast, atomically produced through the\nstimulation of chemical action. Scientists of today regard it as a\nchildishly simple reaction, but by that very virtue, most economical and\nefficient.\n\nBut tomorrow, she explained, she would go back to work in the cloth\nplant, where she would take charge of one of the synthetic processes by\nwhich those wonderful substitutes for woven fabrics of wool, cotton and\nsilk are produced. At the end of another two weeks, she would be back on\nmilitary duty again, perhaps at the same work, or maybe as a \"contact\nguard,\" on duty where the territory of the Wyomings merged with that of\nthe Delawares, or the \"Susquannas\" (Susquehannas) or one of the half\ndozen other \"gangs\" in that section of the country which I knew as\nPennsylvania and New York States.\n\nWilma cleared up for me the mystery of those flying leaps which she and\nher assailants had made, and explained in the following manner, how the\ninertron belt balances weight:\n\n\"_Jumpers_\" were in common use at the time I \"awoke,\" though they were\ncostly, for at that time _inertron_ had not been produced in very great\nquantity. They were very useful in the forest. They were belts,\nstrapped high under the arms, containing an amount of inertron adjusted\nto the wearer's weight and purposes. In effect they made a man weigh as\nlittle as he desired; two pounds if he liked.\n\n\"_Floaters_\" are a later development of \"_jumpers_\"--rocket motors\nencased in _inertron_ blocks and strapped to the back in such a way that\nthe wearer floats, when drifting, facing slightly downward. With his\nmotor in operation, he moves like a diver, headforemost, controlling his\ndirection by twisting his body and by movements of his outstretched arms\nand hands. Ballast weights locked in the front of the belt adjust weight\nand lift. Some men prefer a few ounces of weight in floating, using a\nslight motor thrust to overcome this. Others prefer a buoyance balance\nof a few ounces. The inadvertent dropping of weight is not a serious\nmatter. The motor thrust always can be used to descend. But as an extra\nprecaution, in case the motor should fail, for any reason, there are\nbuilt into every belt a number of detachable sections, one or more of\nwhich can be discarded to balance off any loss in weight.\n\n\"But who were your assailants,\" I asked, \"and why were you attacked?\"\n\nHer assailants, she told me, were members of an outlaw gang, referred to\nas \"Bad Bloods,\" a group which for several generations had been under\nthe domination of conscienceless leaders who tried to advance the\ninterests of their clan by tactics which their neighbors had come to\nregard as unfair, and who in consequence had been virtually boycotted.\nTheir purpose had been to slay her near the Delaware frontier, making it\nappear that the crime had been committed by Delaware scouts and thus\nembroil the Delawares and Wyomings in acts of reprisal against each\nother, or at least cause suspicions.\n\nFortunately they had not succeeded in surprising her, and she had been\nsuccessful in dodging them for some two hours before the shooting began,\nat the moment when I arrived on the scene.\n\n\"But we must not stay here talking,\" Wilma concluded. \"I have to take\nyou in, and besides I must report this attack right away. I think we had\nbetter slip over to the other side of the mountain. Whoever is on that\npost will have a phone, and I can make a direct report. But you'll have\nto have a belt. Mine alone won't help much against our combined weights,\nand there's little to be gained by jumping heavy. It's almost as bad as\nwalking.\"\n\nAfter a little search, we found one of the men I had killed, who had\nfloated down among the trees some distance away and whose belt was not\nbadly damaged. In detaching it from his body, it nearly got away from me\nand shot up in the air. Wilma caught it, however, and though it\nreinforced the lift of her own belt so that she had to hook her knee\naround a branch to hold herself down, she saved it. I climbed the tree\nand, with my weight added to hers, we floated down easily.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nLife in the 25th Century\n\n\nWe were delayed in starting for quite a while since I had to acquire a\nfew crude ideas about the technique of using these belts. I had been\nsitting down, for instance, with the belt strapped about me, enjoying an\nease similar to that of a comfortable armchair; when I stood up with a\nnatural exertion of muscular effort, I shot ten feet into the air, with\na wild instinctive thrashing of arms and legs that amused Wilma greatly.\n\nBut after some practice, I began to get the trick of gauging muscular\neffort to a minimum of vertical and a maximum of horizontal. The correct\nform, I found, was in a measure comparable to that of skating. I found,\nalso, that in forest work particularly the arms and hands could be used\nto great advantage in swinging along from branch to branch, so\nprolonging leaps almost indefinitely at times.\n\nIn going up the side of the mountain, I found that my 20th Century\nmuscles did have an advantage, in spite of lack of skill with the belt,\nand since the slopes were very sharp, and most of our leaps were upward,\nI could have distanced Wilma easily. But when we crossed the ridge and\ndescended, she outstripped me with her superior technique. Choosing the\nsteepest slopes, she would crouch in the top of a tree, and propel\nherself outward, literally diving until, with the loss of horizontal\nmomentum, she would assume a more upright position and float downward.\nIn this manner she would sometimes cover as much as a quarter of a mile\nin a single leap, while I leaped and scrambled clumsily behind,\nthoroughly enjoying the novel sensation.\n\nHalf way down the mountain, we saw another green-clad figure leap out\nabove the tree tops toward us. The three of us perched on an outcropping\nof rock from which a view for many miles around could be had, while\nWilma hastily explained her adventure and my presence to her fellow\nguard; whose name was Alan. I learned later that this was the modern\nform of Helen.\n\n\"You want to report by phone then, don't you?\" Alan took a compact\npacket about six inches square from a holster attached to her belt and\nhanded it to Wilma.\n\nSo far as I could see, it had no special receiver for the ear. Wilma\nmerely threw back a lid, as though she were opening a book, and began to\ntalk. The voice that came back from the machine was as audible as her\nown.\n\nShe was queried closely as to the attack upon her, and at considerable\nlength as to myself, and I could tell from the tone of that voice that\nits owner was not prepared to take me at my face value as readily as\nWilma had. For that matter, neither was the other girl. I could realize\nit from the suspicious glances she threw my way, when she thought my\nattention was elsewhere, and the manner in which her hand hovered\nconstantly near her gun holster.\n\nWilma was ordered to bring me in at once, and informed that another\nscout would take her place on the other side of the mountain. So she\nclosed down the lid of the phone and handed it back to Alan, who seemed\nrelieved to see us departing over the tree tops in the direction of the\ncamps.\n\nWe had covered perhaps ten miles, in what still seemed to me a\nsurprisingly easy fashion, when Wilma explained, that from here on we\nwould have to keep to the ground. We were nearing the camps, she said,\nand there was always the possibility that some small Han scoutship,\ninvisible high in the sky, might catch sight of us through a\nprojectoscope and thus find the general location of the camps.\n\nWilma took me to the Scout office, which proved to be a small building\nof irregular shape, conforming to the trees around it, and substantially\nconstructed of green sheet-like material.\n\nI was received by the assistant Scout Boss, who reported my arrival at\nonce to the historical office, and to officials he called the Psycho\nBoss and the History Boss, who came in a few minutes later. The attitude\nof all three men was at first polite but skeptical, and Wilma's ardent\nadvocacy seemed to amuse them secretly.\n\nFor the next two hours I talked, explained and answered questions. I had\nto explain, in detail, the manner of my life in the 20th Century and my\nunderstanding of customs, habits, business, science and the history of\nthat period, and about developments in the centuries that had elapsed.\nHad I been in a classroom, I would have come through the examination\nwith a very poor mark, for I was unable to give any answer to fully half\nof their questions. But before long I realized that the majority of\nthese questions were designed as traps. Objects, of whose purpose I knew\nnothing, were casually handed to me, and I was watched keenly as I\nhandled them.\n\nIn the end I could see both amazement and belief begin to show in the\nfaces of my inquisitors, and at last the Historical and Psycho Bosses\nagreed openly that they could find no flaw in my story or reactions, and\nthat unbelievable as it seemed, my story must be accepted as genuine.\n\nThey took me at once to Big Boss Hart. He was a portly man with a \"poker\nface.\" He would probably have been the successful politician even in the\n20th Century.\n\nThey gave him a brief outline of my story and a report of their\nexamination of me. He made no comment other than to nod his acceptance\nof it. Then he turned to me.\n\n\"How does it feel?\" he asked. \"Do we look funny to you?\"\n\n\"A bit strange,\" I admitted. \"But I'm beginning to lose that dazed\nfeeling, though I can see I have an awful lot to learn.\"\n\n\"Maybe we can learn some things from you, too,\" he said. \"So you fought\nin the First World War. Do you know, we have very little left in the way\nof records of the details of that war, that is, the precise conditions\nunder which it was fought, and the tactics employed. We forgot many\nthings during the Han terror, and--well, I think you might have a lot of\nideas worth thinking over for our raid masters. By the way, now that\nyou're here, and can't go back to your own century, so to speak, what do\nyou want to do? You're welcome to become one of us. Or perhaps you'd\njust like to visit with us for a while, and then look around among the\nother gangs. Maybe you'd like some of the others better. Don't make up\nyour mind now. We'll put you down as an exchange for a while. Let's see.\nYou and Bill Hearn ought to get along well together. He's Camp Boss of\nNumber 34 when he isn't acting as Raid Boss or Scout Boss. There's a\nvacancy in his camp. Stay with him and think things over as long as you\nwant to. As soon as you make up your mind to anything, let me know.\"\n\nWe all shook hands, for that was one custom that had not died out in\nfive hundred years, and I set out with Bill Hearn.\n\nBill, like all the others, was clad in green. He was a big man. That is,\nhe was about my own height, five feet eleven. This was considerably\nabove the average now, for the race had lost something in stature, it\nseemed, through the vicissitudes of five centuries. Most of the women\nwere a bit below five feet, and the men only a trifle above this height.\n\nFor a period of two weeks Bill was to confine himself to camp duties, so\nI had a good chance to familiarize myself with the community life. It\nwas not easy. There were so many marvels to absorb. I never ceased to\nwonder at the strange combination of rustic social life and feverish\nindustrial activity. At least, it was strange to me. For in my\nexperience, industrial development meant crowded cities, tenements,\npaved streets, profusion of vehicles, noise, hurrying men and women with\nstrained or dull faces, vast structures and ornate public works.\n\nHere, however, was rustic simplicity, apparently isolated families and\ngroups, living in the heart of the forest, with a quarter of a mile or\nmore between households, a total absence of crowds, no means of\nconveyance other than the belts called jumpers, almost constantly worn\nby everybody, and an occasional rocket ship, used only for longer\njourneys, and underground plants or factories that were to my mind more\nlike laboratories and engine rooms; many of them were excavations as\ndeep as mines, with well finished, lighted and comfortable interiors.\nThese people were adepts at camouflage against air observation. Not only\nwould their activity have been unsuspected by an airship passing over\nthe center of the community, but even by an enemy who might happen to\ndrop through the screen of the upper branches to the floor of the\nforest. The camps, or household structures, were all irregular in shape\nand of colors that blended with the great trees among which they were\nhidden.\n\nThere were 724 dwellings or \"camps\" among the Wyomings, located within\nan area of about fifteen square miles. The total population was 8,688,\nevery man, woman and child, whether member or \"exchange,\" being listed.\n\nThe plants were widely scattered through the territory also. Nowhere was\nanything like congestion permitted. So far as possible, families and\nindividuals were assigned to living quarters, not too far from the\nplants or offices in which their work lay.\n\nAll able-bodied men and women alternated in two-week periods between\nmilitary and industrial service, except those who were needed for\nhousehold work. Since working conditions in the plants and offices were\nideal, and everybody thus had plenty of healthy outdoor activity in\naddition, the population was sturdy and active. Laziness was regarded as\nnearly the greatest of social offenses. Hard work and general merit were\nvariously rewarded with extra privileges, advancement to positions of\nauthority, and with various items of personal equipment for convenience\nand luxury.\n\nIn leisure moments, I got great enjoyment from sitting outside the\ndwelling in which I was quartered with Bill Hearn and ten other men,\nwatching the occasional passers-by, as with leisurely, but swift\nmovements, they swung up and down the forest trail, rising from the\nground in long almost-horizontal leaps, occasionally swinging from one\nconvenient branch overhead to another before \"sliding\" back to the\nground farther on. Normal traveling pace, where these trails were\nstraight enough, was about twenty miles an hour. Such things as\nautomobiles and railroad trains (the memory of them not more than a\nmonth old in my mind) seemed inexpressibly silly and futile compared\nwith such convenience as these belts or jumpers offered.\n\nBill suggested that I wander around for several days, from plant to\nplant, to observe and study what I could. The entire community had been\napprised of my coming, my rating as an \"exchange\" reaching every\nbuilding and post in the community, by means of ultronic broadcast.\nEverywhere I was welcomed in an interested and helpful spirit.\n\nI visited the plants where ultronic vibrations were isolated from the\nether and through slow processes built up into sub-electronic,\nelectronic and atomic forms into the two great synthetic elements,\nultron and inertron. I learned something, superficially at least, of the\nprocesses of combined chemical and mechanical action through which were\nproduced the various forms of synthetic cloth. I watched the manufacture\nof the machines which were used at locations of construction to produce\nthe various forms of building materials. But I was particularly\ninterested in the munitions plants and the rocket-ship shops.\n\nUltron is a solid of great molecular density and moderate elasticity,\nwhich has the property of being 100 percent conductive to those\npulsations known as light, electricity and heat. Since it is completely\npermeable to light vibrations, it is therefore _absolutely invisible and\nnon-reflective_. Its magnetic response is almost, but not quite, 100\npercent also. It is therefore very heavy under normal conditions but\nextremely responsive to the _repellor_ or anti-gravity rays, such as the\nHans use as \"_legs_\" for their airships.\n\nInertron is the second great triumph of American research and\nexperimentation with ultronic forces. It was developed just a few years\nbefore my awakening in the abandoned mine. It is a synthetic element,\nbuilt up, through a complicated heterodyning of ultronic pulsations,\nfrom \"infra-balanced\" sub-ionic forms. It is completely inert to both\nelectric and magnetic forces in all the orders above the _ultronic_;\nthat is to say, the _sub-electronic_, the _electronic_, the _atomic_ and\nthe _molecular_. In consequence it has a number of amazing and\nvaluable properties. One of these is _the total lack of weight_. Another\nis a total lack of heat. It has no molecular vibration whatever. It\nreflects 100 percent of the heat and light impinging upon it. It does\nnot feel cold to the touch, of course, since it will not absorb the heat\nof the hand. It is a solid, very dense in molecular structure despite\nits lack of weight, of great strength and considerable elasticity. It is\na perfect shield against the disintegrator rays.\n\n[Illustration: Setting his rocket gun for a long-distance shot.]\n\nRocket guns are very simple contrivances so far as the mechanism of\nlaunching the bullet is concerned. They are simple light tubes, closed\nat the rear end, with a trigger-actuated pin for piercing the thin skin\nat the base of the cartridge. This piercing of the skin starts the\nchemical and atomic reaction. The entire cartridge leaves the tube under\nits own power, at a very easy initial velocity, just enough to insure\naccuracy of aim; so the tube does not have to be of heavy construction.\nThe bullet increases in velocity as it goes. It may be solid or\nexplosive. It may explode on contact or on time, or a combination of\nthese two.\n\nBill and I talked mostly of weapons, military tactics and strategy.\nStrangely enough he had no idea whatever of the possibilities of the\nbarrage, though the tremendous effect of a \"curtain of fire\" with such\nhigh-explosive projectiles as these modern rocket guns used was obvious\nto me. But the barrage idea, it seemed, has been lost track of\ncompletely in the air wars that followed the First World War, and in the\npeculiar guerilla tactics developed by Americans in the later period of\noperations from the ground against Han airships, and in the gang wars\nwhich, until a few generations ago I learned, had been almost\ncontinuous.\n\n\"I wonder,\" said Bill one day, \"if we couldn't work up some form of\nbarrage to spring on the Bad Bloods. The Big Boss told me today that\nhe's been in communication with the other gangs, and all are agreed that\nthe Bad Bloods might as well be wiped out for good. That attempt on\nWilma Deering's life and their evident desire to make trouble among the\ngangs, has stirred up every community east of the Alleghenies. The Boss\nsays that none of the others will object if we go after them. So I\nimagine that before long we will. Now show me again how you worked that\nbusiness in the Argonne forest. The conditions ought to be pretty much\nthe same.\"\n\nI went over it with him in detail, and gradually we worked out a\nmodified plan that would be better adapted to our more powerful weapons,\nand the use of jumpers.\n\n\"It will be easy,\" Bill exulted. \"I'll slide down and talk it over with\nthe Boss tomorrow.\"\n\nDuring the first two weeks of my stay with the Wyomings, Wilma Deering\nand I saw a great deal of each other. I naturally felt a little closer\nfriendship for her, in view of the fact that she was the first human\nbeing I saw after waking from my long sleep; her appreciation of my\nsaving her life, though I could not have done otherwise than I did in\nthat matter, and most of all my own appreciation of the fact that she\nhad not found it as difficult as the others to believe my story,\noperated in the same direction. I could easily imagine my story must\nhave sounded incredible.\n\nIt was natural enough too, that she should feel an unusual interest in\nme. In the first place, I was her personal discovery. In the second, she\nwas a girl of studious and reflective turn of mind. She never got tired\nof my stories and descriptions of the 20th Century.\n\nThe others of the community, however, seemed to find our friendship a\nbit amusing. It seemed that Wilma had a reputation for being cold toward\nthe opposite sex, and so others, not being able to appreciate some of\nher fine qualities as I did, misinterpreted her attitude, much to their\nown delight. Wilma and I, however, ignored this as much as we could.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nA Han Air Raid\n\n\nThere was a girl in Wilma's camp named Gerdi Mann, with whom Bill Hearn\nwas desperately in love, and the four of us used to go around a lot\ntogether. Gerdi was a distinct type. Whereas Wilma had the usual dark\nbrown hair and hazel eyes that marked nearly every member of the\ncommunity, Gerdi had red hair, blue eyes and very fair skin. She has\nbeen dead many years now, but I remember her vividly because she was a\nthrowback in physical appearance to a certain 20th Century type which I\nhave found very rare among modern Americans; also because the four of us\nwere engaged one day in a discussion of this very point, when I obtained\nmy first experience of a Han air raid.\n\nWe were sitting high on the side of a hill overlooking the valley that\nteemed with human activity, invisible beneath its blanket of foliage.\n\nThe other three, who knew of the Irish but vaguely and indefinitely, as\na race on the other side of the globe, which, like ourselves, had\nsucceeded in maintaining a precarious and fugitive existence in\nrebellion against the Mongolian domination of the earth, were listening\nwith interest to my theory that Gerdi's ancestors of several hundred\nyears ago must have been Irish. I explained that Gerdi was an Irish\ntype, evidently a throwback, and that her surname might well have been\nMcMann, or McMahan, and still more anciently \"mac Mathghamhain.\" They\nwere interested too in my surmise that \"Gerdi\" was the same name as that\nwhich had been \"Gerty\" or \"Gertrude\" in the 20th Century.\n\nIn the middle of our discussion, we were startled by an alarm rocket\nthat burst high in the air, far to the north, spreading a pall of red\nsmoke that drifted like a cloud. It was followed by others at scattered\npoints in the northern sky.\n\n\"A Han raid!\" Bill exclaimed in amazement. \"The first in seven years!\"\n\n\"Maybe it's just one of their ships off its course,\" I ventured.\n\n\"No,\" said Wilma in some agitation. \"That would be green rockets. Red\nmeans only one thing, Tony. They're sweeping the countryside with their\ndis beams. Can you see anything, Bill?\"\n\n\"We had better get under cover,\" Gerdi said nervously. \"The four of us\nare bunched here in the open. For all we know they may be twelve miles\nup, out of sight, yet looking at us with a projecto'.\"\n\nBill had been sweeping the horizon hastily with his glass, but\napparently saw nothing.\n\n\"We had better scatter, at that,\" he said finally. \"It's orders, you\nknow. See!\" He pointed to the valley.\n\nHere and there a tiny human figure shot for a moment above the foliage\nof the treetops.\n\n\"That's bad,\" Wilma commented, as she counted the jumpers. \"No less than\nfifteen people visible, and all clearly radiating from a central point.\nDo they want to give away our location?\"\n\nThe standard orders covering air raids were that the population was to\nscatter individually. There should be no grouping, or even pairing, in\nview of the destructiveness of the disintegrator rays. Experience of\ngenerations had proved that if this were done, and everybody remained\nhidden beneath the tree screens, the Hans would have to sweep mile after\nmile of territory, foot by foot, to catch more than a small percentage\nof the community.\n\nGerdi, however, refused to leave Bill, and Wilma developed an equal\nobstinacy against quitting my side. I was inexperienced at this sort of\nthing, she explained, quite ignoring the fact that she was too; she was\nonly thirteen or fourteen years old at the time of the last air raid.\n\nHowever, since I could not argue her out of it, we leaped together about\na quarter of a mile to the right, while Bill and Gerdi disappeared down\nthe hillside among the trees.\n\nWilma and I both wanted a point of vantage from which we might overlook\nthe valley and the sky to the north, and we found it near the top of the\nridge, where, protected from visibility by thick branches, we could look\nout between the tree trunks, and get a good view of the valley.\n\nNo more rockets went up. Except for a few of those warning red clouds,\ndrifting lazily in a blue sky, there was no visible indication of man's\npast or present existence anywhere in the sky or on the ground.\n\nThen Wilma gripped my arm and pointed. I saw it; away off in the\ndistance; looking like a phantom dirigible airship, in its coat of\nlow-visibility paint, a bare spectre.\n\n\"Seven thousand feet up,\" Wilma whispered, crouching close to me.\n\"Watch.\"\n\nThe ship was about the same shape as the great dirigibles of the 20th\nCentury that I had seen, but without the suspended control car, engines,\npropellors, rudders or elevating planes. As it loomed rapidly nearer, I\nsaw that it was wider and somewhat flatter than I had supposed.\n\nNow I could see the repellor rays that held the ship aloft, like\nsearchlight beams faintly visible in the bright daylight (and still\nfaintly visible to the human eye at night). Actually, I had been\ninformed by my instructors, there were two rays; the visible one\ngenerated by the ship's apparatus, and directed toward the ground as a\nbeam of \"carrier\" impulses; and the true repellor ray, the complement of\nthe other in one sense, induced by the action of the \"carrier\" and\nreacting in a concentrating upward direction from the mass of the earth,\nbecoming successively electronic, atomic and finally molecular, in its\nnature, according to various ratios of distance between earth mass and\n\"carrier\" source, until, in the last analysis, the ship itself actually\nis supported on an upward rushing column of air, much like a ball\ncontinuously supported on a fountain jet.\n\nThe raider neared with incredible speed. Its rays were both slanted\nastern at a sharp angle, so that it slid forward with tremendous\nmomentum.\n\nThe ship was operating two disintegrator rays, though only in a casual,\nintermittent fashion. But whenever they flashed downward with blinding\nbrilliancy, forest, rocks and ground melted instantaneously into\nnothing, where they played upon them.\n\nWhen later I inspected the scars left by these rays I found them some\nfive feet deep and thirty feet wide, the exposed surfaces being\nlava-like in texture, but of a pale, iridescent, greenish hue.\n\nNo systematic use of the rays was made by the ship, however, until it\nreached a point over the center of the valley--the center of the\ncommunity's activities. There it came to a sudden stop by shooting its\nrepellor beams sharply forward and easing them back gradually to the\nvertical, holding the ship floating and motionless. Then the work of\ndestruction began systematically.\n\nBack and forth traveled the destroying rays, ploughing parallel furrows\nfrom hillside to hillside. We gasped in dismay, Wilma and I, as time\nafter time we saw it plough through sections where we knew camps or\nplants were located.\n\n\"This is awful,\" she moaned, a terrified question in her eyes. \"How\ncould they know the location so exactly, Tony? Did you see? They were\nnever in doubt. They stalled at a predetermined spot--and--and it was\nexactly the right spot.\"\n\nWe did not talk of what might happen if the rays were turned in our\ndirection. We both knew. We would simply disintegrate in a split second\ninto mere scattered electronic vibrations. Strangely enough, it was this\nself-reliant girl of the 25th Century, who clung to me, a relatively\nprimitive man of the 20th, less familiar than she with the thought of\nthis terrifying possibility, for moral support.\n\nWe knew that many of our companions must have been whisked into absolute\nnon-existence before our eyes in these few moments. The whole thing\nparalyzed us into mental and physical immobility for I do not know how\nlong.\n\nIt couldn't have been long, however, for the rays had not ploughed more\nthan thirty of their twenty-foot furrows or so across the valley, when I\nregained control of myself, and brought Wilma to herself by shaking her\nroughly.\n\n\"How far will this rocket gun shoot, Wilma?\" I demanded, drawing my\npistol.\n\n\"It depends on your rocket, Tony. It will take even the longest range\nrocket, but you could shoot more accurately from a longer tube. But why?\nYou couldn't penetrate the shell of that ship with rocket force, even if\nyou could reach it.\"\n\nI fumbled clumsily with my rocket pouch, for I was excited. I had an\nidea I wanted to try; a \"hunch\" I called it, forgetting that Wilma could\nnot understand my ancient slang. But finally, with her help, I selected\nthe longest range explosive rocket in my pouch, and fitted it to my\npistol.\n\n\"It won't carry seven thousand feet, Tony,\" Wilma objected. But I took\naim carefully. It was another thought that I had in my mind. The\nsupporting repellor ray, I had been told, became molecular in character\nat what was called a logarithmic level of five (below that it was a\npurely electronic \"flow\" or pulsation between the source of the\n\"carrier\" and the average mass of the earth). Below that level if I\ncould project my explosive bullet into this stream where it began to\ncarry material substance upward, might it not rise with the air column,\ngathering speed and hitting the ship with enough impact to carry it\nthrough the shell? It was worth trying anyhow. Wilma became greatly\nexcited, too, when she grasped the nature of my inspiration.\n\nFeverishly I looked around for some formation of branches against which\nI could rest the pistol, for I had to aim most carefully. At last I\nfound one. Patiently I sighted on the hulk of the ship far above us,\naiming at the far side of it, at such an angle as would, so far as I\ncould estimate, bring my bullet path through the forward repellor beam.\nAt last the sights wavered across the point I sought and I pressed the\nbutton gently.\n\nFor a moment we gazed breathlessly.\n\nSuddenly the ship swung bow down, as on a pivot, and swayed like a\npendulum. Wilma screamed in her excitement.\n\n\"Oh, Tony, you hit it! You hit it! Do it again; bring it down!\"\n\nWe had only one more rocket of extreme range between us, and we dropped\nit three times in our excitement in inserting it in my gun. Then,\nforcing myself to be calm by sheer will power, while Wilma stuffed her\nlittle fist into her mouth to keep from shrieking, I sighted carefully\nagain and fired. In a flash, Wilma had grasped the hope that this\ndiscovery of mine might lead to the end of the Han domination.\n\nThe elapsed time of the rocket's invisible flight seemed an age.\n\nThen we saw the ship falling. It seemed to plunge lazily, but actually\nit fell with terrific acceleration, turning end over end, its\ndisintegrator rays, out of control, describing vast, wild arcs, and once\ncutting a gash through the forest less than two hundred feet from where\nwe stood.\n\nThe crash with which the heavy craft hit the ground reverberated from\nthe hills--the momentum of eighteen or twenty thousand tons, in a sheer\ndrop of seven thousand feet. A mangled mass of metal, it buried itself\nin the ground, with poetic justice, in the middle of the smoking,\nsemi-molten field of destruction it had been so deliberately ploughing.\n\nThe silence, the vacuity of the landscape, was oppressive, as the last\nechoes died away.\n\nThen far down the hillside, a single figure leaped exultantly above the\nfoliage screen. And in the distance another, and another.\n\nIn a moment the sky was punctured by signal rockets. One after another\nthe little red puffs became drifting clouds.\n\n\"Scatter! Scatter!\" Wilma exclaimed. \"In half an hour there'll be an\nentire Han fleet here from Nu-yok, and another from Bah-flo. They'll get\nthis instantly on their recordographs and location finders. They'll\nblast the whole valley and the country for miles beyond. Come, Tony.\nThere's no time for the gang to rally. See the signals. We've got to\njump. Oh, I'm so proud of you!\"\n\nOver the ridge we went, in long leaps toward the east, the country of\nthe Delawares.\n\nFrom time to time signal rockets puffed in the sky. Most of them were\nthe \"red warnings,\" the \"scatter\" signals. But from certain of the\nothers, which Wilma identified as Wyoming rockets, she gathered that\nwhoever was in command (we did not know whether the Boss was alive or\nnot) was ordering an ultimate rally toward the south, and so we changed\nour course.\n\nIt was a great pity, I thought, that the clan had not been equipped\nthroughout its membership with ultrophones, but Wilma explained to me,\nthat not enough of these had been built for distribution as yet,\nalthough general distribution had been contemplated within a couple of\nmonths.\n\nWe traveled far before nightfall overtook us, trying only to put as much\ndistance as possible between ourselves and the valley.\n\nWhen gathering dusk made jumping too dangerous, we sought a comfortable\nspot beneath the trees, and consumed part of our emergency rations. It\nwas the first time I had tasted the stuff--a highly nutritive synthetic\nsubstance called \"concentro,\" which was, however, a bit bitter and\nunpalatable. But as only a mouthful or so was needed, it did not matter.\n\nNeither of us had a cloak, but we were both thoroughly tired and happy,\nso we curled up together for warmth. I remember Wilma making some sleepy\nremark about our mating, as she cuddled up, as though the matter were\nall settled, and my surprise at my own instant acceptance of the idea,\nfor I had not consciously thought of her that way before. But we both\nfell asleep at once.\n\nIn the morning we found little time for love making. The practical\nproblem facing us was too great. Wilma felt that the Wyoming plan must\nbe to rally in the Susquanna territory, but she had her doubts about the\nwisdom of this plan. In my elation at my success in bringing down the\nHan ship, and my newly found interest in my charming companion, who was,\nfrom my viewpoint of another century, at once more highly civilized and\nyet more primitive than myself, I had forgotten the ominous fact that\nthe Han ship I had destroyed must have known the exact location of the\nWyoming Works.\n\nThis meant, to Wilma's logical mind, either that the Hans had perfected\nnew instruments as yet unknown to us, or that somewhere, among the\nWyomings or some other nearby gang, there were traitors so degraded as\nto commit that unthinkable act of trafficking in information with the\nHans. In either contingency, she argued, other Han raids would follow,\nand since the Susquannas had a highly developed organization and more\nthan usually productive plants, the next raid might be expected to\nstrike them.\n\nBut at any rate it was clearly our business to get in touch with the\nother fugitives as quickly as possible, so in spite of muscles that were\nsore from the excessive leaping of the day before, we continued on our\nway.\n\nWe traveled for only a couple of hours when we saw a multi-colored\nrocket in the sky, some ten miles ahead of us.\n\n\"Bear to the left, Tony,\" Wilma said, \"and listen for the whistle.\"\n\n\"Why?\" I asked.\n\n\"Haven't they given you the rocket code yet?\" she replied. \"That's what\nthe green, followed by yellow and purple means; to concentrate five\nmiles east of the rocket position. You know the rocket position itself\nmight draw a play of disintegrator beams.\"\n\nIt did not take us long to reach the neighborhood of the indicated\nrallying, though we were now traveling beneath the trees, with but an\noccasional leap to a top branch to see if any more rocket smoke was\nfloating above. And soon we heard a distant whistle.\n\nWe found about half the Gang already there, in a spot where the trees\nmet high above a little stream. The Big Boss and Raid Bosses were busy\nreorganizing the remnants.\n\nWe reported to Boss Hart at once. He was silent, but interested, when he\nheard our story.\n\n\"You two stick close to me,\" he said, adding grimly, \"I'm going back to\nthe valley at once with a hundred picked men, and I'll need you.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nSetting the Trap\n\n\nInside of fifteen minutes we were on our way. A certain amount of\ncaution was sacrificed for the sake of speed, and the men leaped away\neither across the forest top, or over open spaces of ground, but\nconcentration was forbidden. The Big Boss named the spot on the hillside\nas the rallying point.\n\n\"We'll have to take a chance on being seen, so long as we don't group,\"\nhe declared, \"at least until within five miles of the rallying spot.\nFrom then on I want every man to disappear from sight and to travel\nunder cover. And keep your ultrophones open, and tuned on\nten-four-seven-six.\"\n\nWilma and I had received our battle equipment from the Gear boss. It\nconsisted of a long-gun, a hand-gun, with a special case of ammunition\nconstructed of inertron, which made the load weigh but a few ounces, and\na short sword. This gear we strapped over each other's shoulders, on top\nof our jumping belts. In addition, we each received an ultrophone, and a\nlight inertron blanket rolled into a cylinder about six inches long by\ntwo or three in diameter. This fabric was exceedingly thin and light,\nbut it had considerable warmth, because of the mixture of inertron in\nits composition.\n\n[Illustration: The Han raider neared with incredible speed. Its rays\nwere both slanted astern at a sharp angle, so that it slid forward with\ntremendous momentum.... Whenever the disintegrator rays flashed downward\nwith blinding brilliancy, forest, rocks and ground melted\ninstantaneously into nothing, where they played upon them.]\n\n\"This looks like business,\" Wilma remarked to me with sparkling eyes.\n(And I might mention a curious thing here. The word \"business\" had\nsurvived from the 20th Century American vocabulary, but not with any\nmeaning of \"industry\" or \"trade,\" for such things being purely community\nactivities were spoken of as \"work\" and \"clearing.\" Business simply\nmeant fighting, and that was all.)\n\n\"Did you bring all this equipment from the valley?\" I asked the Gear\nBoss.\n\n\"No,\" he said. \"There was no time to gather anything. All this stuff we\ncleared from the Susquannas a few hours ago. I was with the Boss on the\nway down, and he had me jump on ahead and arrange it. But you two had\nbetter be moving. He's beckoning you now.\"\n\nHart was about to call us on our phones when we looked up. As soon as we\ndid so, he leaped away, waving us to follow closely.\n\nHe was a powerful man, and he darted ahead in long, swift, low leaps up\nthe banks of the stream, which followed a fairly straight course at this\npoint. By extending ourselves, however, Wilma and I were able to catch\nup to him.\n\nAs we gradually synchronized our leaps with his, he outlined to us,\nbetween the grunts that accompanied each leap, his plan of action.\n\n\"We have to start the big business--unh--sooner or later,\" he said.\n\"And if--unh--the Hans have found any way of locating our\npositions--unh--it's time to start now, although the Council of\nBosses--unh--had intended waiting a few years until enough rocket ships\nhave been--unh--built. But no matter what the sacrifice--unh--we can't\nafford to let them get us on the run--unh--. We'll set a trap for the\nyellow devils in the--unh--valley if they come back for their\nwreckage--unh--and if they don't, we'll go rocketing for some of their\nliners--unh--on the Nu-yok, Clee-lan, Si-ka-ga course. We can\nuse--unh--that idea of yours of shooting up the repellor--unh--beams.\nWant you to give us a demonstration.\"\n\nWith further admonition to follow him closely, he increased his pace,\nand Wilma and I were taxed to our utmost to keep up with him. It was\nonly in ascending the slopes that my tougher muscles overbalanced his\ngreater skill, and I was able to set the pace for him, as I had for\nWilma.\n\nWe slept in greater comfort that night, under our inertron blankets, and\nwere off with the dawn, leaping cautiously to the top of the ridge\noverlooking the valley which Wilma and I had left.\n\nThe Boss scanned the sky with his ultroscope, patiently taking some\nfifteen minutes to the task, and then swung his phone into use, calling\nthe roll and giving the men their instructions.\n\nHis first order was for us all to slip our ear and chest discs into\npermanent position.\n\nThese ultrophones were quite different from the one used by Wilma's\ncompanion scout the day I saved her from the vicious attack of the\nbandit Gang. That one was contained entirely in a small pocket case.\nThese, with which we were now equipped, consisted of a pair of ear\ndiscs, each a separate and self-contained receiving set. They slipped\ninto little pockets over our ears in the fabric helmets we wore, and\nshut out virtually all extraneous sounds. The chest discs were likewise\nself-contained sending sets, strapped to the chest a few inches below\nthe neck and actuated by the vibrations from the vocal cords through the\nbody tissues. The total range of these sets was about eighteen miles.\nReception was remarkably clear, quite free from the static that so\nmarked the 20th Century radios, and of a strength in direct proportion\nto the distance of the speaker.\n\nThe Boss' set was triple powered, so that his orders would cut in on any\nlocal conversations, which were indulged in, however, with great\nrestraint, and only for the purpose of maintaining contacts.\n\nI marveled at the efficiency of this modern method of battle\ncommunication in contrast to the clumsy signaling devices of more\nancient times; and also at other military contrasts in which the 20th\nand 25th Century methods were the reverse of each other in efficiency.\nThese modern Americans, for instance, knew little of hand to hand\nfighting, and nothing, naturally, of trench warfare. Of barrages they\nwere quite ignorant, although they possessed weapons of terrific power.\nAnd until my recent flash of inspiration, no one among them, apparently,\nhad ever thought of the scheme of shooting a rocket into a repellor beam\nand letting the beam itself hurl it upward into the most vital part of\nthe Han ship.\n\nHart patiently placed his men, first giving his instructions to the\ncampmasters, and then remaining silent, while they placed the\nindividuals.\n\nIn the end, the hundred men were ringed about the valley, on the\nhillsides and tops, each in a position from which he had a good view of\nthe wreckage of the Han ship. But not a man had come in view, so far as\nI could see, in the whole process.\n\nThe Boss explained to me that it was his idea that he, Wilma and I\nshould investigate the wreck. If Han ships should appear in the sky, we\nwould leap for the hillsides.\n\nI suggested to him to have the men set up their long-guns trained on an\nimaginary circle surrounding the wreck. He busied himself with this\nafter the three of us leaped down to the Han ship, serving as a target\nhimself, while he called on the men individually to aim their pieces and\nlock them in position.\n\nIn the meantime Wilma and I climbed into the wreckage, but did not find\nmuch. Practically all of the instruments and machinery had been twisted\nout of all recognizable shape, or utterly destroyed by the ship's\ndisintegrator rays which apparently had continued to operate in the\nmidst of its warped remains for some moments after the crash.\n\nIt was unpleasant work searching the mangled bodies of the crew. But it\nhad to be done. The Han clothing, I observed, was quite different from\nthat of the Americans, and in many respects more like the garb to which\nI had been accustomed in the earlier part of my life. It was made of\nsynthetic fabrics like silks, loose and comfortable trousers of knee\nlength, and sleeveless shirts.\n\nNo protection, except that against drafts, was needed, Wilma explained\nto me, for the Han cities were entirely enclosed, with splendid\narrangements for ventilation and heating. These arrangements of course\nwere equally adequate in their airships. The Hans, indeed, had quite a\ndistaste for unshaded daylight, since their lighting apparatus diffused\na controlled amount of violet rays, making the unmodified sunlight\nunnecessary for health, and undesirable for comfort. Since the Hans did\nnot have the secret of inertron, none of them wore anti-gravity belts.\nYet in spite of the fact that they had to bear their own full weights at\nall times, they were physically far inferior to the Americans, for they\nlived lives of degenerative physical inertia, having machinery of every\ndescription for the performance of all labor, and convenient conveyances\nfor any movement of more than a few steps.\n\nEven from the twisted wreckage of this ship I could see that seats,\nchairs and couches played an extremely important part in their scheme of\nexistence.\n\nBut none of the bodies were overweight. They seemed to have been the\nbodies of men in good health, but muscularly much underdeveloped. Wilma\nexplained to me that they had mastered the science of gland control, and\nof course dietetics, to the point where men and women among them not\nuncommonly reached the age of a hundred years with arteries and general\nhealth in splendid condition.\n\nI did not have time to study the ship and its contents as carefully as I\nwould have liked, however. Time pressed, and it was our business to\ndiscover some clue to the deadly accuracy with which the ship had\nspotted the Wyoming Works.\n\nThe Boss had hardly finished his arrangements for the ring barrage, when\none of the scouts on an eminence to the north, announced the approach of\nseven Han ships, spread out in a great semi-circle.\n\nHart leaped for the hillside, calling to us to do likewise, but Wilma\nand I had raised the flaps of our helmets and switched off our\n\"speakers\" for conversation between ourselves, and by the time we\ndiscovered what had happened, the ships were clearly visible, so fast\nwere they approaching.\n\n\"Jump!\" we heard the Boss order, \"Deering to the north. Rogers to the\neast.\"\n\nBut Wilma looked at me meaningly and pointed to where the twisted plates\nof the ship, projecting from the ground, offered a shelter.\n\n\"Too late, Boss,\" she said. \"They'd see us. Besides I think there's\nsomething here we ought to look at. It's probably their magnetic graph.\"\n\n\"You're signing your death warrant,\" Hart warned.\n\n\"We'll risk it,\" said Wilma and I together.\n\n\"Good for you,\" replied the Boss. \"Take command then, Rogers, for the\npresent. Do you all know his voice, boys?\"\n\nA chorus of assent rang in our ears, and I began to do some fast\nthinking as the girl and I ducked into the twisted mass of metal.\n\n\"Wilma, hunt for that record,\" I said, knowing that by the simple\nprocess of talking I could keep the entire command continuously informed\nas to the situation. \"On the hillsides, keep your guns trained on the\ncircles and stand by. On the hilltops, how many of you are there? Speak\nin rotation from Bald Knob around to the east, north, west.\"\n\nIn turn the men called their names. There were twenty of them.\n\nI assigned them by name to cover the various Han ships, numbering the\nlatter from left to right.\n\n\"Train your rockets on their repellor rays about three-quarters of the\nway up, between ships and ground. Aim is more important than elevation.\nFollow those rays with your aim continuously. Shoot when I tell you, not\nbefore. Deering has the record. The Hans probably have not seen us, or\nat least think there are but two of us in the valley, since they're\nsettling without opening up disintegrators. Any opinions?\"\n\nMy ear discs remained silent.\n\n\"Deering and I remain here until they land and debark. Stand by and keep\nalert.\"\n\nRapidly and easily the largest of the Han ships settled to the earth.\nThree scouted sharply to the south, rising to a higher level. The others\nfloated motionless about a thousand feet above.\n\nPeeping through a small fissure between two plates, I saw the vast hulk\nof the ship come to rest full on the line of our prospective ring\nbarrage. A door clanged open a couple of feet from the ground, and one\nby one the crew emerged.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\nThe \"Wyoming Massacre\"\n\n\n\"They're coming out of the ship.\" I spoke quietly, with my hand over\nmy mouth, for fear they might hear me. \"One--two--three--four,\nfive--six--seven--eight--nine. That seems to be all. Who knows how\nmany men a ship like that is likely to carry?\"\n\n\"About ten, if there are no passengers,\" replied one of my men, probably\none of those on the hillside.\n\n\"How are they armed?\" I asked.\n\n\"Just knives,\" came the reply. \"They never permit hand-rays on the\nships. Afraid of accidents. Have a ruling against it.\"\n\n\"Leave them to us then,\" I said, for I had a hastily formed plan in my\nmind. \"You, on the hillsides, take the ships above. Abandon the ring\ntarget. Divide up in training on those repellor rays. You, on the\nhilltops, all train on the repellors of the ships to the south. Shoot at\nthe word, but not before.\n\n\"Wilma, crawl over to your left where you can make a straight leap for\nthe door in that ship. These men are all walking around the wreck in a\nbunch. When they're on the far side, I'll give the word and you leap\nthrough that door in one bound. I'll follow. Maybe we won't be seen.\nWe'll overpower the guard inside, but don't shoot. We may escape being\nseen by both this crew and ships above. They can't see over this wreck.\"\n\nIt was so easy that it seemed too good to be true. The Hans who had\nemerged from the ship walked round the wreckage lazily, talking in\nguttural tones, keenly interested in the wreck, but quite unsuspicious.\n\nAt last they were on the far side. In a moment they would be picking\ntheir way into the wreck.\n\n\"Wilma, leap!\" I almost whispered the order.\n\nThe distance between Wilma's hiding place and the door in the side of\nthe Han ship was not more than fifteen feet. She was already crouched\nwith her feet braced against a metal beam. Taking the lift of that\nwonderful inertron belt into her calculation, she dove headforemost,\nlike a green projectile, through the door. I followed in a split second,\nmore clumsily, but no less speedily, bruising my shoulder painfully, as\nI ricocheted from the edge of the opening and brought up sliding against\nthe unconscious girl; for she evidently had hit her head against the\npartition within the ship into which she had crashed.\n\nWe had made some noise within the ship. Shuffling footsteps were\napproaching down a well lit gangway.\n\n\"Any signs we have been observed?\" I asked my men on the hillsides.\n\n\"Not yet,\" I heard the Boss reply. \"Ships overhead still standing. No\nbeams have been broken out. Men on ground absorbed in wreck. Most of\nthem have crawled into it out of sight.\"\n\n\"Good,\" I said quickly. \"Deering hit her head. Knocked out. One or more\nmembers of the crew approaching. We're not discovered yet. I'll take\ncare of them. Stand a bit longer, but be ready.\"\n\nI think my last words must have been heard by the man who was\napproaching, for he stopped suddenly.\n\nI crouched at the far side of the compartment, motionless. I would not\ndraw my sword if there were only one of them. He would be a weakling, I\nfigured, and I should easily overcome him with my bare hands.\n\nApparently reassured at the absence of any further sound, a man came\naround a sort of bulkhead--and I leaped.\n\nI swung my legs up in front of me as I did so, catching him full in the\nstomach and knocked him cold.\n\nI ran forward along the keel gangway, searching for the control room. I\nfound it well up in the nose of the ship. And it was deserted. What\ncould I do to jam the controls of the ships that would not register on\nthe recording instruments of the other ships? I gazed at the mass of\ncontrols. Levers and wheels galore. In the center of the compartment, on\na massively braced universal joint mounting, was what I took for the\nrepellor generator. A dial on it glowed and a faint hum came from within\nits shielding metallic case. But I had no time to study it.\n\nAbove all else, I was afraid that some automatic telephone apparatus\nexisted in the room, through which I might be heard on the other ships.\nThe risk of trying to jam the controls was too great. I abandoned the\nidea and withdrew softly. I would have to take a chance that there was\nno other member of the crew aboard.\n\nI ran back to the entrance compartment. Wilma still lay where she had\nslumped down. I heard the voices of the Hans approaching. It was time to\nact. The next few seconds would tell whether the ships in the air would\ntry or be able to melt us into nothingness. I spoke.\n\n\"Are you boys all ready?\" I asked, creeping to a position opposite the\ndoor and drawing my hand-gun.\n\nAgain there was a chorus of assent.\n\n\"Then on the count of three, shoot up those repellor rays--all of\nthem--and for God's sake, don't miss.\" And I counted.\n\nI think my \"three\" was a bit weak. I know it took all the courage I had\nto utter it.\n\nFor an agonizing instant nothing happened, except that the landing party\nfrom the ship strolled into my range of vision.\n\nThen startled, they turned their eyes upward. For an instant they stood\nfrozen with horror at whatever they saw.\n\nOne hurled his knife at me. It grazed my cheek. Then a couple of them\nmade a break for the doorway. The rest followed. But I fired pointblank\nwith my hand-gun, pressing the button as fast as I could and aiming at\ntheir feet to make sure my explosive rockets would make contact and do\ntheir work.\n\nThe detonations of my rockets were deafening. The spot on which the Hans\nstood flashed into a blinding glare. Then there was nothing there except\ntheir torn and mutilated corpses. They had been fairly bunched, and I\ngot them all.\n\nI ran to the door, expecting any instant to be hurled into infinity by\nthe sweep of a disintegrator ray.\n\nSome eighth of a mile away I saw one of the ships crash to earth. A\ndisintegrator ray came into my line of vision, wavered uncertainly for a\nmoment and then began to sweep directly toward the ship in which I\nstood. But it never reached it. Suddenly, like a light switched off, it\nshot to one side, and a moment later another vast hulk crashed to earth.\nI looked out, then stepped out on the ground.\n\nThe only Han ships in the sky were two of the scouts to the south which\nwere hanging perpendicularly, and sagging slowly down. The others must\nhave crashed down while I was deafened by the sound of the explosion of\nmy own rockets.\n\nSomebody hit the other repellor ray of one of the two remaining ships\nand it fell out of sight beyond a hilltop. The other, farther away,\ndrifted down diagonally, its disintegrator ray playing viciously over\nthe ground below it.\n\nI shouted with exultation and relief.\n\n\"Take back the command, Boss!\" I yelled.\n\nHis commands, sending out jumpers in pursuit of the descending ship,\nrang in my ears, but I paid no attention to them. I leaped back into the\ncompartment of the Han ship and knelt beside my Wilma. Her padded helmet\nhad absorbed much of the blow, I thought; otherwise, her skull might\nhave been fractured.\n\n\"Oh, my head!\" she groaned, coming to as I lifted her gently in my arms\nand strode out in the open with her. \"We must have won, dearest, did\nwe?\"\n\n\"We most certainly did,\" I reassured her. \"All but one crashed and that\none is drifting down toward the south; we've captured this one we're in\nintact. There was only one member of the crew aboard when we dove in.\"\n\n[Illustration: As the American leaped, he swung his legs up in front of\nhim, catching the Han full in the stomach.]\n\nLess than an hour afterward the Big Boss ordered the outfit to tune in\nultrophones on three-twenty-three to pick up a translated broadcast of\nthe Han intelligence office in Nu-yok from the Susquanna station. It\nwas in the form of a public warning and news item, and read as follows:\n\n\"This is Public Intelligence Office, Nu-yok, broadcasting warning to\nnavigators of private ships, and news of public interest. The squadron\nof seven ships, which left Nu-yok this morning to investigate the recent\ndestruction of the GK-984 in the Wyoming Valley, has been destroyed by a\nseries of mysterious explosions similar to those which wrecked the\nGK-984.\n\n\"The phones, viewplates, and all other signaling devices of five of the\nseven ships ceased operating suddenly at approximately the same moment,\nabout seven-four-nine.\" (According to the Han system of reckoning time,\nseven and forty-nine one hundredths after midnight.) \"After violent\ndisturbances the location finders went out of operation. Electroactivity\nregisters applied to the territory of the Wyoming Valley remain dead.\n\n\"The Intelligence Office has no indication of the kind of disaster which\novertook the squadron except certain evidences of explosive phenomena\nsimilar to those in the case of the GK-984, which recently went dead\nwhile beaming the valley in a systematic effort to wipe out the works\nand camps of the tribesmen. The Office considers, as obvious, the\ndeduction that the tribesmen have developed a new, and as yet\nundetermined, technique of attack on airships, and has recommended to\nthe Heaven-Born that immediate and unlimited authority be given the\nNavigation Intelligence Division to make an investigation of this\ntechnique and develop a defense against it.\n\n\"In the meantime it urges that private navigators avoid this territory\nin particular, and in general hold as closely as possible to the\nofficial inter-city routes, which now are being patrolled by the entire\nforce of the Military Office, which is beaming the routes generously to\na width of ten miles. The Military Office reports that it is at present\nconsidering no retaliatory raids against the tribesmen. With the\nNavigation Intelligence Division, it holds that unless further evidence\nof the nature of the disaster is developed in the near future, the\npublic interest will be better served, and at smaller cost of life, by a\nscientific research than by attempts at retaliation, which may bring\ndestruction on all ships engaging therein. So unless further evidence\nactually is developed, or the Heaven-Born orders to the contrary, the\nMilitary will hold to a defensive policy.\n\n\"Unofficial intimations from Lo-Tan are to the effect that the\nHeaven-Council has the matter under consideration.\n\n\"The Navigation Intelligence Office permits the broadcast of the\nfollowing condensation of its detailed observations:\n\n\"The squadron proceeded to a position above the Wyoming Valley where\nthe wreck of the GK-984 was known to be, from the record of its location\nfinder before it went dead recently. There the bottom projectoscope\nrelays of all ships registered the wreck of the GK-984. Teleprojectoscope\nviews of the wreck and the bowl of the valley showed no evidence of the\npresence of tribesmen. Neither ship registers nor base registers showed\nany indication of electroactivity except from the squadron itself. On\norders from the Base Squadron Commander, the LD-248, LK-745 and LG-25\nscouted southward at 3,000 feet. The GK-43, GK-981 and GK-220 stood\nabove at 2,500 feet, and the GK-18 landed to permit personal inspection\nof the wreck by the science committee. The party debarked, leaving one\nman on board in the control cabin. He set all projectoscopes at\nuniversal focus except RB-3,\" (this meant the third projectoscope from\nthe bow of the ship, on the right-hand side of the lower deck) \"with\nwhich he followed the landing group as it walked around the wreck.\n\n\"The first abnormal phenomenon recorded by any of the instruments at\nBase was that relayed automatically from projectoscope RB-4 of the\nGK-18, which as the party disappeared from view in back of the wreck,\nrecorded two green missiles of roughly cylindrical shape, projected from\nthe wreckage into the landing compartment of the ship. At such close\nrange these were not clearly defined, owing to the universal focus at\nwhich the projectoscope was set. The Base Captain of GK-18 at once\nordered the man in the control room to investigate, and saw him leave\nthe control room in compliance with this order. An instant later\nconfused sounds reached the control-room electrophone, such as might be\nmade by a man falling heavily, and footsteps reapproached the control\nroom, a figure entering and leaving the control room hurriedly. The Base\nCaptain now believes, and the stills of the photorecord support his\nbelief, that this was not the crew member who had been left in the\ncontrol room. Before the Base Captain could speak to him he left the\nroom, nor was any response given to the attention signal the Captain\nflashed throughout the ship.\n\n\"At this point projectoscope RB-3 of the ship now out of focus control,\ndimly showed the landing party walking back toward the ship. RB-4 showed\nit more clearly. Then on both these instruments, a number of blinding\nexplosives in rapid succession were seen and the electrophone relays\nregistered terrific concussions; the ship's electronic apparatus and\nprojectoscopes apparatus went dead.\n\n\"Reports of the other ships' Base Observers and Executives, backed by\nthe photorecords, show the explosions as taking place in the midst of\nthe landing party as it returned, evidently unsuspicious, to the ship.\nThen in rapid succession they indicate that terrific explosions occurred\ninside and outside the three ships standing above close to their rep-ray\ngenerators, and all signals from these ships thereupon went dead.\n\n\"Of the three ships scouting to the south, the LD-248 suffered an\nidentical fate, at the same moment. Its records add little to the\nknowledge of the disaster. But with the LK-745 and the LG-25 it was\ndifferent.\n\n\"The relay instruments of the LK-745 indicated the destruction by an\nexplosion of the rear rep-ray generator, and that the ship hung stern\ndown for a short space, swinging like a pendulum. The forward viewplates\nand indicators did not cease functioning, but their records are chaotic,\nexcept for one projectoscope still, which shows the bowl of the valley,\nand the GK-981 falling, but no visible evidence of tribesmen. The\ncontrol-room viewplate is also a chaotic record of the ship's crew\ntumbling and falling to the rear wall. Then the forward rep-ray\ngenerator exploded, and all signals went dead.\n\n\"The fate of the LG-25 was somewhat similar, except that this ship hung\nnose down, and drifted on the wind southward as it slowly descended out\nof control.\n\n\"As its control room was shattered, verbal report from its Action\nCaptain was precluded. The record of the interior rear viewplate shows\nmembers of the crew climbing toward the rear rep-ray generator in an\nattempt to establish manual control of it, and increase the lift. The\nprojectoscope relays, swinging in wide arcs, recorded little of value\nexcept at the ends of their swings. One of these, from a machine which\nhappened to be set in telescopic focus, shows several views of great\nvalue in picturing the falls of the other ships, and all of the rear\nprojectoscope records enable the reconstruction in detail of the\npendulum and torsional movements of the ship, and its sag toward the\nearth. But none of the views showing the forest below contain any\nindication of tribesmen's presence. A final explosion put this ship out\nof commission at a height of 1,000 feet, and at a point four miles S. by\nE. of the center of the valley.\"\n\nThe message ended with a repetition of the warning to other airmen to\navoid the valley.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\nIncredible Treason\n\n\nAfter receiving this report, and reassurances of support from the Big\nBosses of the neighboring Gangs, Hart determined to reestablish the\nWyoming Valley community.\n\nA careful survey of the territory showed that it was only the northern\nsections and slopes that had been \"beamed\" by the first Han ship.\n\nThe synthetic-fabrics plant had been partially wiped out, though the\nlower levels underground had not been reached by the dis ray. The forest\nscreen above it, however, had been annihilated, and it was determined to\nabandon it, after removing all usable machinery and evidences of the\nprocesses that might be of interest to the Han scientists, should they\nreturn to the valley in the future.\n\nThe ammunition plant, and the rocket-ship plant, which had just been\nabout to start operation at the time of the raid, were intact, as were\nthe other important plants.\n\nHart brought the Camboss up from the Susquanna Works, and laid out new\ncamp locations, scattering them farther to the south, and avoiding\nground which had been seared by the Han beams and the immediate\nlocations of the Han wrecks.\n\nDuring this period, a sharp check was kept upon Han messages, for the\nphone plant had been one of the first to be put in operation, and when\nit became evident that the Hans did not intend any immediate reprisals,\nthe entire membership of the community was summoned back, and normal\nlife was resumed.\n\nWilma and I had been married the day after the destruction of the ships,\nand spent this intervening period in a delightful honeymoon, camping\nhigh in the mountains. On our return, we had a camp of our own, of\ncourse. We were assigned to location 1017. And as might be expected, we\nhad a great deal of banter over which one of us was Camp Boss. The title\nstood after my name on the Big Boss' records, and those of the Big\nCamboss, of course, but Wilma airily held that this meant nothing at\nall--and generally succeeded in making me admit it whenever she chose.\n\nI found myself a full-fledged member of the Gang now, for I had elected\nto search no farther for a permanent alliance, much as I would have\nliked to familiarize myself with this 25th Century life in other\nsections of the country. The Wyomings had a high morale, and had\nprospered under the rule of Big Boss Hart for many years. But many of\nthe gangs, I found, were badly organized, lacked strong hands in\nauthority, and were rife with intrigue. On the whole, I thought I would\nbe wise to stay with a group which had already proved its friendliness,\nand in which I seemed to have prospects of advancement. Under these\nmodern social and economic conditions, the kind of individual freedom to\nwhich I had been accustomed in the 20th Century was impossible. I would\nhave been as much of a nonentity in every phase of human relationship by\nattempting to avoid alliances, as any man of the 20th Century would have\nbeen politically, who aligned himself with no political party.\n\nThis entire modern life, it appeared to me, judging from my ancient\nviewpoint, was organized along what I called \"political\" lines. And in\nthis connection, it amused me to notice how universal had become the use\nof the word \"boss.\" The leader, the person in charge or authority over\nanything, was a \"boss.\" There was as little formality in his relations\nwith his followers as there was in the case of the 20th Century\npolitical boss, and the same high respect paid him by his followers as\nwell as the same high consideration by him of their interests. He was\njust as much of an autocrat, and just as much dependent upon the general\npopularity of his actions for the ability to maintain his autocracy.\n\nThe sub-boss who could not command the loyalty of his followers was as\nquickly deposed, either by them or by his superiors, as the ancient ward\nleader of the 20th Century who lost control of his votes.\n\nAs society was organized in the 20th Century, I do not believe the\nsystem could have worked in anything but politics. I tremble to think\nwhat would have happened, had the attempt been made to handle the A. E.\nF. this way during the First World War, instead of by that rigid\nmilitary discipline and complete assumption of the individual as a mere\nstandardized cog in the machine.\n\nBut owing to the centuries of desperate suffering the people had endured\nat the hands of the Hans, there developed a spirit of self-sacrifice and\nconsideration for the common good that made the scheme applicable and\nefficient in all forms of human co-operation.\n\nI have a little heresy about all this, however. My associates regard the\nthought with as much horror as many worthy people of the 20th Century\nfelt in regard to any heretical suggestion that the original outline of\ngovernment as laid down in the First Constitution did not apply as well\nto 20th Century conditions as to those of the early 19th.\n\nIn later years, I felt that there was a certain softening of moral fiber\namong the people, since the Hans had been finally destroyed with all\ntheir works; and Americans have developed a new luxury economy. I have\nseen signs of the reawakening of greed, of selfishness. The eternal\ncycle seems to be at work. I fear that slowly, though surely, private\nwealth is reappearing, codes of inflexibility are developing; they will\nbe followed by corruption, degradation; and in the end some cataclysmic\nevent will end this era and usher in a new one.\n\nAll this, however, is wandering afar from my story, which concerns our\nearly battles against the Hans, and not our more modern problems of\nself-control.\n\nOur victory over the seven Han ships had set the country ablaze. The\nsecret had been carefully communicated to the other gangs, and the\ncountry was agog from one end to the other. There was feverish activity\nin the ammunition plants, and the hunting of stray Han ships became an\nenthusiastic sport. The results were disastrous to our hereditary\nenemies.\n\nFrom the Pacific Coast came the report of a great transpacific liner of\n75,000 tons \"lift\" being brought to earth from a position of\ninvisibility above the clouds. A dozen Sacramentos had caught the hazy\noutlines of its rep rays approaching them, head-on, in the twilight,\nlike ghostly pillars reaching into the sky. They had fired rockets into\nit with ease, whereas they would have had difficulty in hitting it if it\nhad been moving at right angles to their position. They got one rep ray.\nThe other was not strong enough to hold it up. It floated to earth, nose\ndown, and since it was unarmed and unarmored, they had no difficulty in\nshooting it to pieces and massacring its crew and passengers. It seemed\nbarbarous to me. But then I did not have centuries of bitter persecution\nin my blood.\n\nFrom the Jersey Beaches we received news of the destruction of a\nNu-yok-A-lan-a liner. The Sand-snipers, practically invisible in their\nsand-colored clothing, and half buried along the beaches, lay in wait\nfor days, risking the play of dis beams along the route, and finally\nregistering four hits within a week. The Hans discontinued their service\nalong this route, and as evidence that they were badly shaken by our\nsuccess, sent no raiders down the Beaches.\n\nIt was a few weeks later that Big Boss Hart sent for me.\n\n\"Tony,\" he said, \"There are two things I want to talk to you about. One\nof them will become public property in a few days, I think. We aren't\ngoing to get any more Han ships by shooting up their repellor rays\nunless we use much larger rockets. They are wise to us now. They're\nputting armor of great thickness in the hulls of their ships below the\nrep-ray machines. Near Bah-flo this morning a party of Eries shot one\nwithout success. The explosions staggered her, but did not penetrate. As\nnear as we can gather from their reports, their laboratories have\ndeveloped a new alloy of great tensile strength and elasticity which\nnevertheless lets the rep rays through like a sieve. Our reports\nindicate that the Eries' rockets bounced off harmlessly. Most of the\nparty was wiped out as the dis rays went into action on them.\n\n\"This is going to mean real business for all of the gangs before long.\nThe Big Bosses have just held a national ultrophone council. It was\ndecided that America must organize on a national basis. The first move\nis to develop sectional organization by Zones. I have been made\nSuperboss of the Mid-Atlantic Zone.\n\n\"We're in for it now. The Hans are sure to launch reprisal expeditions.\nIf we're to save the race we must keep them away from our camps and\nplants. I'm thinking of developing a permanent field force, along the\nlines of the regular armies of the 20th Century you told me about. Its\nbusiness will be twofold: to carry the warfare as much as possible to\nthe Hans, and to serve as a decoy, to keep their attention from our\nplants. I'm going to need your help in this.\n\n\"The other thing I wanted to talk to you about is this: Amazing and\nimpossible as it seems, there is a group, or perhaps an entire gang,\nsomewhere among us, that is betraying us to the Hans. It may be the Bad\nBloods, or it may be one of those gangs who live near one of the Han\ncities. You know, a hundred and fifteen or twenty years ago there were\ncertain of these people's ancestors who actually degraded themselves by\nmating with the Hans, sometimes even serving them as slaves, in the days\nbefore they brought all their service machinery to perfection.\n\n\"There is such a gang, called the Nagras, up near Bah-flo, and another\nin Mid-Jersey that men call the Pineys. But I hardly suspect the Pineys.\nThere is little intelligence among them. They wouldn't have the\ninformation to give the Hans, nor would they be capable of imparting it.\nThey're absolute savages.\"\n\n\"Just what evidence is there that anybody has been clearing information\nto the Hans?\" I asked.\n\n\"Well,\" he replied, \"first of all there was that raid upon us. That\nfirst Han ship knew the location of our plants exactly. You remember it\nfloated directly into position above the valley and began a systematic\nbeaming. Then, the Hans quite obviously have learned that we are picking\nup their electrophone waves, for they've gone back to their old, but\nextremely accurate, system of directional control. But we've been\ngetting them for the past week by installing automatic re-broadcast\nunits along the scar paths. This is what the Americans called those\nstrips of country directly under the regular ship routes of the Hans,\nwho as a matter of precaution frequently blasted them with their dis\nbeams to prevent the growth of foliage which might give shelter to the\nAmericans. But they've been beaming those paths so hard, it looks as\nthough they even had information of this strategy. And in addition,\nthey've been using code. Finally, we've picked up three of their\nmessages in which they discuss, with some nervousness, the existence of\nour 'mysterious' ultrophone.\"\n\n\"But they still have no knowledge of the nature and control of ultronic\nactivity?\" I asked.\n\n\"No,\" said the Big Boss thoughtfully, \"they don't seem to have a bit of\ninformation about it.\"\n\n\"Then it's quite clear,\" I ventured, \"that whoever is 'clearing' us to\nthem is doing it piecemeal. It sounds like a bit of occasional barter,\nrather than an out-and-out alliance. They're holding back as much\ninformation as possible for future bartering, perhaps.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Hart said, \"and it isn't information the Hans are giving in\nreturn, but some form of goods, or privilege. The trick would be to\nlocate the goods. I guess I'll have to make a personal trip around among\nthe Big Bosses.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\nThe Han City\n\n\nThis conversation set me thinking. All of the Han electrophone\ninter-communication had been an open record to the Americans for a good\nmany years, and the Hans were just finding it out. For centuries they\nhad not regarded us as any sort of a menace. Unquestionably it had never\noccurred to them to secrete their own records. Somewhere in Nu-yok or\nBah-flo, or possibly in Lo-Tan itself, the record of this traitorous\ntransaction would be more or less openly filed. If we could only get at\nit! I wondered if a raid might not be possible.\n\nBill Hearn and I talked it over with our Han-affairs Boss and his\nexperts. There ensued several days of research, in which the Han records\nof the entire decade were scanned and analyzed. In the end they picked\nout a mass of detail, and fitted it together into a very definite\npicture of the great central filing office of the Hans in Nu-yok, where\nthe entire mass of official records was kept, constantly available for\ninstant projectoscoping to any of the city's offices, and of the system\nby which the information was filed.\n\nThe attempt began to look feasible, though Hart instantly turned the\nidea down when I first presented it to him. It was unthinkable, he said.\nSheer suicide. But in the end I persuaded him.\n\n\"I will need,\" I said, \"Blash, who is thoroughly familiar with the Han\nlibrary system; Bert Gaunt, who for years has specialized on their\nmilitary offices; Bill Barker, the ray specialist, and the best swooper\npilot we have.\" _Swoopers_ are one-man and two-man ships, developed by\nthe Americans, with skeleton backbones of inertron (during the war\npainted green for invisibility against the green forests below) and\n\"bellies\" of clear ultron.\n\n\"That will be Mort Gibbons,\" said Hart. \"We've only got three swoopers\nleft, Tony, but I'll risk one of them if you and the others will\nvoluntarily risk your existences. But mind, I won't urge or order one of\nyou to go. I'll spread the word to every Plant Boss at once to give you\nanything and everything you need in the way of equipment.\"\n\nWhen I told Wilma of the plan, I expected her to raise violent and\ntearful objections, but she didn't. She was made of far sterner stuff\nthan the women of the 20th Century. Not that she couldn't weep as\ncopiously or be just as whimsical on occasion; but she wouldn't weep for\nthe same reasons.\n\nShe just gave me an unfathomable look, in which there seemed to be a bit\nof pride, and asked eagerly for the details. I confess I was somewhat\ndisappointed that she could so courageously risk my loss, even though I\nwas amazed at her fortitude. But later I was to learn how little I knew\nher then.\n\nWe were ready to slide off at dawn the next morning. I had kissed Wilma\ngood-bye at our camp, and after a final conference over our plans, we\nboarded our craft and gently glided away over the tree tops on a course,\nwhich, after crossing three routes of the Han ships, would take us out\nover the Atlantic, off the Jersey coast, whence we would come up on\nNu-yok from the ocean.\n\nTwice we had to nose down and lie motionless on the ground near a route\nwhile Han ships passed. Those were tense moments. Had the green back of\nour ship been observed, we would have been disintegrated in a second.\nBut it wasn't.\n\nOnce over the water, however, we climbed in a great spiral, ten miles in\ndiameter, until our altimeter registered ten miles. Here Gibbons shut\noff his rocket motor, and we floated, far above the level of the\nAtlantic liners, whose course was well to the north of us anyhow, and\nwaited for nightfall.\n\nThen Gibbons turned from his control long enough to grin at me.\n\n\"I have a surprise for you, Tony,\" he said, throwing back the lid of\nwhat I had supposed was a big supply case. And with a sigh of relief,\nWilma stepped out of the case.\n\n\"If you 'go into zero' (a common expression of the day for being\nannihilated by the disintegrator ray), you don't think I'm going to let\nyou go alone, do you, Tony? I couldn't believe my ears last night when\nyou spoke of going without me, until I realized that you are still five\nhundred years behind the times in lots of ways. Don't you know, dear\nheart, that you offered me the greatest insult a husband could give a\nwife? You didn't, of course.\"\n\nThe others, it seemed, had all been in on the secret, and now they would\nhave kidded me unmercifully, except that Wilma's eyes blazed\ndangerously.\n\nAt nightfall, we maneuvered to a position directly above the city. This\ntook some time and calculation on the part of Bill Barker, who explained\nto me that he had to determine our point by ultronic bearings. The\nslightest resort to an electronic instrument, he feared, might be\ndetected by our enemies' locators. In fact, we did not dare bring our\nswooper any lower than five miles for fear that its capacity might be\nreflected in their instruments.\n\nFinally, however, he succeeded in locating above the central tower of\nthe city.\n\n\"If my calculations are as much as ten feet off,\" he remarked with\nconfidence, \"I'll eat the tower. Now the rest is up to you, Mort. See\nwhat you can do to hold her steady. No--here, watch this indicator--the\nred beam, not the green one. See--if you keep it exactly centered on the\nneedle, you're O.K. The width of the beam represents seventeen feet. The\ntower platform is fifty feet square, so we've got a good margin to work\non.\"\n\nFor several moments we watched as Gibbons bent over his levers,\nconstantly adjusting them with deft touches of his fingers. After a bit\nof wavering, the beam remained centered on the needle.\n\n\"Now,\" I said, \"let's drop.\"\n\nI opened the trap and looked down, but quickly shut it again when I felt\nthe air rushing out of the ship into the rarefied atmosphere in a\ntorrent. Gibbons literally yelled a protest from his instrument board.\n\n\"I forgot,\" I mumbled. \"Silly of me. Of course, we'll have to drop out\nof compartment.\"\n\nThe compartment, to which I referred, was similar to those in some of\nthe 20th Century submarines. We all entered it. There was barely room\nfor us to stand, shoulder to shoulder. With some struggles, we got into\nour special air helmets and adjusted the pressure. At our signal,\nGibbons exhausted the air in the compartment, pumping it into the body\nof the ship, and as the little signal light flashed, Wilma threw open\nthe hatch.\n\nSetting the ultron-wire reel, I climbed through, and began to slide down\ngently.\n\nWe all had our belts on, of course, adjusted to a weight balance of but\na few ounces. And the five-mile reel of ultron wire that was to be our\nguide, was of gossamer fineness, though, anyway, I believe it would have\nlifted the full weight of the five of us, so strong and tough was this\ninvisible metal. As an extra precaution, since the wire was of the\npurest metal, and therefore totally invisible, even in daylight, we all\nhad our belts hooked on small rings that slid down the wire.\n\nI went down with the end of the wire. Wilma followed a few feet above\nme, then Barker, Gaunt and Blash. Gibbons, of course, stayed behind to\nhold the ship in position and control the paying out of the line. We all\nhad our ultrophones in place inside our air helmets, and so could\nconverse with one another and with Gibbons. But at Wilma's suggestion,\nalthough we would have liked to let the Big Boss listen in, we kept them\nadjusted to short-range work, for fear that those who had been clearing\nwith the Hans, and against whom we were on a raid for evidence, might\nalso pick up our conversation. We had no fear that the Hans would hear\nus. In fact, we had the added advantage that, even after we landed, we\ncould converse freely without danger of their hearing our voices through\nour air helmets.\n\nFor a while I could see nothing below but utter darkness. Then I\nrealized, from the feel of the air as much as from anything, that we\nwere sinking through a cloud layer. We passed through two more cloud\nlayers before anything was visible to us.\n\nThen there came under my gaze, about two miles below, one of the most\nbeautiful sights I have ever seen; the soft, yet brilliant, radiance of\nthe great Han city of Nu-yok. Every foot of its structural members\nseemed to glow with a wonderful incandescence, tower piled up on tower,\nand all built on the vast base-mass of the city, which, so I had been\ntold, sheered upward from the surface of the rivers to a height of 728\nlevels.\n\nThe city, I noticed with some surprise, did not cover anything like the\nsame area as the New York of the 20th Century. It occupied, as a matter\nof fact, only the lower half of Manhattan Island, with one section\nstraddling the East River, and spreading out sufficiently over what once\nhad been Brooklyn, to provide berths for the great liners and other air\ncraft.\n\nStraight beneath my feet was a tiny dark patch. It seemed the only spot\nin the entire city that was not aflame with radiance. This was the\ncentral tower, in the top floors of which were housed the vast library\nof record files and the main projectoscope plant.\n\n\"You can shoot the wire now,\" I ultrophoned Gibbons, and let go the\nlittle weighted knob. It dropped like a plummet, and we followed with\nconsiderable speed, but braking our descent with gloved hands\nsufficiently to see whether the knob, on which a faint light glowed as a\nsignal for ourselves, might be observed by any Han guard or night\nprowler. Apparently it was not, and we again shot down with accelerated\nspeed.\n\nWe landed on the roof of the tower without any mishap, and fortunately\nfor our plan, in darkness. Since there was nothing above it on which it\nwould have been worth while to shed illumination, or from which there\nwas any need to observe it, the Hans had neglected to light the tower\nroof, or indeed to occupy it at all. This was the reason we had selected\nit as our landing place.\n\nAs soon as Gibbons had our word, he extinguished the knob light, and the\nknob, as well as the wire, became totally invisible. At our ultrophoned\nword, he would light it again.\n\n\"No gun play now,\" I warned. \"Swords only, and then only if absolutely\nnecessary.\"\n\nClosely bunched, and treading as lightly as only inertron-belted people\ncould, we made our way cautiously through a door and down an inclined\nplane to the floor below, where Gaunt and Blash assured us the military\noffices were located.\n\nTwice Barker cautioned us to stop as we were about to pass in front of\nmirror-like \"windows\" in the passage wall, and flattening ourselves to\nthe floor, we crawled past them.\n\n\"Projectoscopes,\" he said. \"Probably on automatic record only, at this\ntime of night. Still, we don't want to leave any records for them to\nstudy after we're gone.\"\n\n\"Were you ever here before?\" I asked.\n\n\"No,\" he replied, \"but I haven't been studying their electrophone\ncommunications for seven years without being able to recognize these\nmachines when I run across them.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\nThe Fight in the Tower\n\n\nSo far we had not laid eyes on a Han. The tower seemed deserted. Blash\nand Gaunt, however, assured me that there would be at least one man on\n\"duty\" in the military offices, though he would probably be asleep, and\ntwo or three in the library proper and the projectoscope plant.\n\n\"We've got to put them out of commission,\" I said. \"Did you bring the\n'dope' cans, Wilma?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" she said, \"two for each. Here,\" and she distributed them.\n\nWe were now two levels below the roof, and at the point where we were to\nseparate.\n\nI did not want to let Wilma out of my sight, but it was necessary.\n\nAccording to our plan, Barker was to make his way to the projectoscope\nplant, Blash and I to the library, and Wilma and Gaunt to the military\noffice.\n\nBlash and I traversed a long corridor, and paused at the great arched\ndoorway of the library. Cautiously we peered in. Seated at three great\nswitchboards were library operatives. Occasionally one of them would\nreach lazily for a lever, or sleepily push a button, as little numbered\nlights winked on and off. They were answering calls for electrograph and\nviewplate records on all sorts of subjects from all sections of the\ncity.\n\nI apprised my companions of the situation.\n\n\"Better wait a bit,\" Blash added. \"The calls will lessen shortly.\"\n\nWilma reported an officer in the military office sound asleep.\n\n\"Give him the can, then,\" I said.\n\nBarker was to do nothing more than keep watch in the projectoscope\nplant, and a few moments later he reported himself well concealed, with\na splendid view of the floor.\n\n\"I think we can take a chance now,\" Blash said to me, and at my nod, he\nopened the lid of his dope can. Of course, the fumes did not affect us,\nthrough our helmets. They were absolutely without odor or visibility,\nand in a few seconds the librarians were unconscious. We stepped into\nthe room.\n\nThere ensued considerable cautious observation and experiment on the\npart of Gaunt, working from the military office, and Blash in the\nlibrary; while Wilma and I, with drawn swords and sharply attuned\nmicrophones, stood guard, and occasionally patrolled nearby corridors.\n\n\"I hear something approaching,\" Wilma said after a bit, with excitement\nin her voice. \"It's a soft, gliding sound.\"\n\n\"That's an elevator somewhere,\" Barker cut in from the projectoscope\nfloor. \"Can you locate it? I can't hear it.\"\n\n\"It's to the east of me,\" she replied.\n\n\"And to my west,\" said I, faintly catching it. \"It's between us, Wilma,\nand nearer you than me. Be careful. Have you got any information yet,\nBlash and Gaunt?\"\n\n\"Getting it now,\" one of them replied. \"Give us two minutes more.\"\n\n\"Keep at it then,\" I said. \"We'll guard.\"\n\nThe soft, gliding sound ceased.\n\n\"I think it's very close to me,\" Wilma almost whispered. \"Come closer,\nTony. I have a feeling something is going to happen. I've never known my\nnerves to get taut like this without reason.\"\n\nIn some alarm, I launched myself down the corridor in a great leap\ntoward the intersection whence I knew I could see her.\n\nIn the middle of my leap my ultrophone registered her gasp of alarm. The\nnext instant I glided to a stop at the intersection to see Wilma backing\ntoward the door of the military office, her sword red with blood, and an\ninert form on the corridor floor. Two other Hans were circling to either\nside of her with wicked-looking knives, while a third evidently a high\nofficer, judging by the resplendence of his garb tugged desperately to\nget an electrophone instrument out of a bulky pocket. If he ever gave\nthe alarm, there was no telling what might happen to us.\n\nI was at least seventy feet away, but I crouched low and sprang with\nevery bit of strength in my legs. It would be more correct to say that I\ndived, for I reached the fellow head on, with no attempt to draw my legs\nbeneath me.\n\nSome instinct must have warned him, for he turned suddenly as I hurtled\nclose to him. But by this time I had sunk close to the floor, and had\nstiffened myself rigidly, lest a dragging knee or foot might just\nprevent my reaching him. I brought my blade upward and over. It was a\nvicious slash that laid him open, bisecting him from groin to chin, and\nhis dead body toppled down on me, as I slid to a tangled stop.\n\nThe other two startled, turned. Wilma leaped at one and struck him down\nwith a side slash. I looked up at this instant, and the dazed fear on\nhis face at the length of her leap registered vividly. The Hans knew\nnothing of our inertron belts, it seemed, and these leaps and dives of\nours filled them with terror.\n\nAs I rose to my feet, a gory mess, Wilma, with a poise and speed which I\nfound time to admire even in this crisis, again leaped. This time she\ndove head first as I had done and, with a beautifully executed thrust,\nran the last Han through the throat.\n\nUncertainly, she scrambled to her feet, staggered queerly, and then sank\ngently prone on the corridor. She had fainted.\n\nAt this juncture, Blash and Gaunt reported with elation that they had\nthe record we wanted.\n\n\"Back to the roof, everybody!\" I ordered, as I picked Wilma up in my\narms. With her inertron belt, she felt as light as a feather.\n\nGaunt joined me at once from the military office, and at the\nintersection of the corridor, we came upon Blash waiting for us. Barker,\nhowever, was not in evidence.\n\n\"Where are you, Barker?\" I called.\n\n\"Go ahead,\" he replied. \"I'll be with you on the roof at once.\"\n\nWe came out in the open without any further mishap, and I instructed\nGibbons in the ship to light the knob on the end of the ultron wire. It\nflashed dully a few feet away from us. Just how he had maneuvered the\nship to keep our end of the line in position, without its swinging in a\ntremendous arc, I have never been able to understand. Had not the night\nbeen an unusually still one, he could not have checked the initial\npendulum-like movements. As it was, there was considerable air current\nat certain of the levels, and in different directions too. But Gibbons\nwas an expert of rare ability and sensitivity in the handling of a\nrocket ship, and he managed, with the aid of his delicate instruments,\nto sense the drifts almost before they affected the fine ultron wire,\nand to neutralize them with little shifts in the position of the ship.\n\nBlash and Gaunt fastened their rings to the wire, and I hooked my own\nand Wilma's on, too. But on looking around, I found Barker was still\nmissing.\n\n\"Barker, come!\" I called. \"We're waiting.\"\n\n\"Coming!\" he replied, and indeed, at that instant, his figure appeared\nup the ramp. He chuckled as he fastened his ring to the wire, and said\nsomething about a little surprise he had left for the Hans.\n\n\"Don't reel in the wire more than a few hundred feet,\" I instructed\nGibbons. \"It will take too long to wind it in. We'll float up, and when\nwe're aboard, we can drop it.\"\n\nIn order to float up, we had to dispense with a pound or two of weight\napiece. We hurled our swords from us, and kicked off our shoes as\nGibbons reeled up the line a bit, and then letting go of the wire, began\nto hum upward on our rings with increasing velocity.\n\nThe rush of air brought Wilma to, and I hastily explained to her that we\nhad been successful. Receding far below us now, I could see our dully\nshining knob swinging to and fro in an ever widening arc, as it crossed\nand recrossed the black square of the tower roof. As an extra\nprecaution, I ordered Gibbons to shut off the light, and to show one\nfrom the belly of the ship, for so great was our speed now, that I began\nto fear we would have difficulty in checking ourselves. We were\nliterally falling upward, and with terrific acceleration.\n\nFortunately, we had several minutes in which to solve this difficulty,\nwhich none of us, strangely enough, had foreseen. It was Gibbons who\nfound the answer.\n\n\"You'll be all right if all of you grab the wire tight when I give the\nword,\" he said. \"First I'll start reeling it in at full speed. You won't\nget much of a jar, and then I'll decrease its speed again gradually, and\nits weight will hold you back. Are you ready? One--two--three!\"\n\nWe all grabbed tightly with our gloved hands as he gave the word. We\nmust have been rising a good bit faster than he figured, however, for it\nwrenched our arms considerably, and the maneuver set up a sickening\npendulum motion.\n\nFor a while all we could do was swing there in an arc that may have been\na quarter of a mile across, about three and a half miles above the city,\nand still more than a mile from our ship.\n\nGibbons skilfully took up the slack as our momentum pulled up the line.\nThen at last we had ourselves under control again, and continued our\nupward journey, checking our speed somewhat with our gloves.\n\nThere was not one of us who did not breathe a big sigh of relief when we\nscrambled through the hatch safely into the ship again, cast off the\nultron line and slammed the trap shut.\n\nLittle realizing that we had a still more terrible experience to go\nthrough, we discussed the information Blash and Gaunt had between them\nextracted from the Han records, and the advisability of ultrophoning\nHart at once.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nThe Walls of Hell\n\n\nThe traitors were, it seemed, a degenerate gang of Americans, located a\nfew miles north of Nu-yok on the wooded banks of the Hudson, the\nSinsings. They had exchanged scraps of information to the Hans in return\nfor several old repellor-ray machines, and the privilege of tuning in on\nthe Han electronic power broadcast for their operation, provided their\nships agreed to subject themselves to the orders of the Han traffic\noffice, while aloft.\n\nThe rest wanted to ultrophone their news at once, since there was always\ndanger that we might never get back to the gang with it.\n\nI objected, however. The Sinsings would be likely to pick up our\nmessage. Even if we used the directional projector, they might have\nscouts out to the west and south in the big inter-gang stretches of\ncountry. They would flee to Nu-yok and escape the punishment they\nmerited. It seemed to be vitally important that they should not, for the\nsake of example to other weak groups among the American gangs, as well\nas to prevent a crisis in which they might clear more vital information\nto the enemy.\n\n\"Out to sea again,\" I ordered Gibbons. \"They'll be less likely to look\nfor us in that direction.\"\n\n\"Easy, Boss, easy,\" he replied. \"Wait until we get up a mile or two\nmore. They must have discovered evidences of our raid by now, and their\ndis-ray wall may go in operation any moment.\"\n\nEven as he spoke, the ship lurched downward and to one side.\n\n\"There it is!\" he shouted. \"Hang on, everybody. We're going to nose\nstraight up!\" And he flipped the rocket-motor control wide open.\n\nLooking through one of the rear ports, I could see a nebulous, luminous\nring, and on all sides the atmosphere took on a faint iridescence.\n\nWe were almost over the destructive range of the disintegrator-ray wall,\na hollow cylinder of annihilation shooting upward from a solid ring of\ngenerators surrounding the city. It was the main defense system of the\nHans, which had never been used except in periodic tests. They may or\nmay not have suspected that an American rocket ship was within the\ncylinder; probably they had turned on their generators more as a\nprecaution to prevent any reaching a position above the city.\n\nBut even at our present great height, we were in great danger. It was a\nquestion how much we might have been harmed by the rays themselves, for\ntheir effective range was not much more than seven or eight miles. The\ngreater danger lay in the terrific downward rush of air within the\ncylinder to replace that which was being burned into nothingness by the\ncontinual play of the disintegrators. The air fell into the cylinder\nwith the force of a gale. It would be rushing toward the wall from the\noutside with terrific force also, but, naturally, the effect was\nintensified on the interior.\n\nOur ship vibrated and trembled. We had only one chance of escape--to\nfight our way well above the current. To drift down with it meant\nultimately, and inevitably, to be sucked into the destruction wall at\nsome lower level.\n\nBut very gradually and jerkily our upward movement, as shown on the\nindicators, began to increase, and after an hour of desperate struggle\nwe were free of the maelstrom and into the rarefied upper levels. The\nterror beneath us was now invisible through several layers of cloud\nformations.\n\nGibbons brought the ship back to an even keel, and drove her eastward\ninto one of the most brilliantly gorgeous sunrises I have ever seen.\n\nWe described a great circle to the south and west, in a long easy dive,\nfor he had cut out his rocket motors to save them as much as possible.\nWe had drawn terrifically on their fuel reserves in our battle with the\nelements. For the moment, the atmosphere below cleared, and we could see\nthe Jersey coast far beneath, like a great map.\n\n\"We're not through yet,\" remarked Gibbons suddenly, pointing at his\nperiscope, and adjusting it to telescopic focus. \"A Han ship, and a\n'drop ship' at that--and he's seen us. If he whips that beam of his on\nus, we're done.\"\n\nI gazed, fascinated, at the viewplate. What I saw was a cigar-shaped\nship not dissimilar to our own in design, and from the proportional size\nof its ports, of about the same size as our swoopers. We learned later\nthat they carried crews, for the most part of not more than three or\nfour men. They had streamline hulls and tails that embodied\nuniversal-jointed double fish-tail rudders. In operation they rose to\ngreat heights on their powerful repellor rays, then gathered speed\neither by a straight nose dive, or an inclined dive in which they\nsometimes used the repellor ray slanted at a sharp angle. He was already\nabove us, though several miles to the north. He could, of course, try to\nget on our tail and \"spear\" us with his beam as he dropped at us from a\ngreat height.\n\nSuddenly his beam blazed forth in a blinding flash, whipping downward\nslowly to our right. He went through a peculiar corkscrew-like\nevolution, evidently maneuvering to bring his beam to bear on us with a\nspiral motion.\n\nGibbons instantly sent our ship into a series of evolutions that must\nhave looked like those of a frightened hen. Alternately, he used the\nforward and the reverse rocket blasts, and in varying degree. We\nfluttered, we shot suddenly to right and left, and dropped like a\nplummet in uncertain movements. But all the time the Han scout dropped\ntoward us, determinedly whipping the air around us with his beam. Once\nit sliced across beneath us, not more than a hundred feet, and we\ndropped with a jar into the pocket formed by the destruction of the air.\n\nHe had dropped to within a mile of us, and was coming with the speed of\na projectile, when the end came. Gibbons always swore it was sheer luck.\nMaybe it was, but I like pilots who are lucky that way.\n\nIn the midst of a dizzy, fluttering maneuver of our own, with the Han\nship enlarging to our gaze with terrifying rapidity, and its beam slowly\nslicing toward us in what looked like certain destruction within the\nsecond, I saw Gibbons' fingers flick at the lever of his rocket gun and\na split second later the Han ship flew apart like a clay pigeon.\n\nWe staggered, and fluttered crazily for several moments while Gibbons\nstruggled to bring our ship into balance, and a section of about four\nsquare feet in the side of the ship near the stern slowly crumbled like\nrusted metal. His beam actually had touched us, but our explosive rocket\nhad got him a thousandth of a second sooner.\n\nPart of our rudder had been annihilated, and our motor damaged. But we\nwere able to swoop gently back across Jersey, fortunately crossing the\nship lanes without sighting any more Han craft, and finally settling to\nrest in the little glade beneath the trees, near Hart's camp.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\nThe New Boss\n\n\nWe had ultrophoned our arrival and the Big Boss himself, surrounded by\nthe Council, was on hand to welcome us and learn our news. In turn we\nwere informed that during the night a band of raiding Bad Bloods,\ndisguised under the insignia of the Altoonas, a gang some distance to\nthe west of us, had destroyed several of our camps before our people had\nrallied and driven them off. Their purpose, evidently, had been to\nembroil us with the Altoonas, but fortunately, one of our exchanges\nrecognized the Bad Blood leader, who had been slain.\n\nThe Big Boss had mobilized the full raiding force of the Gang, and was\non the point of heading an expedition for the extermination of the Bad\nBloods.\n\nI looked around the grim circle of the sub-bosses, and realized the fate\nof America, at this moment, lay in their hands. Their temper demanded\nthe immediate expenditure of our full effort in revenging ourselves for\nthis raid. But the strategic exigencies, to my mind, quite clearly\ndemanded the instant and absolute extermination of the Sinsings. It\nmight be only a matter of hours, for all we knew, before these degraded\npeople would barter clues to the American ultronic secrets to the Hans.\n\n\"How large a force have we?\" I asked Hart.\n\n\"Every man and maid who can be spared,\" he replied. \"That gives us seven\nhundred married and unmarried men, and three hundred girls, more than\nthe entire Bad Blood Gang. Every one is equipped with belts,\nultrophones, rocket guns and swords, and all fighting mad.\"\n\nI meditated how I might put the matter to these determined men, and was\nvaguely conscious that they were awaiting my words.\n\nFinally I began to speak. I do not remember to this day just what I\nsaid. I talked calmly, with due regard for their passion, but with deep\nconviction. I went over the information we had collected, point by\npoint, building my case logically, and painting a lurid picture of the\ndanger impending in that half-alliance between the Sinsings and the Hans\nof Nu-yok. I became impassioned, culminating, I believe, with a vow to\nproceed single-handed against the hereditary enemies of our race, \"if\nthe Wyomings were blindly set on placing a gang feud ahead of honor and\nduty and the hopes of all America.\"\n\nAs I concluded, a great calm came over me, as of one detached. I had\nfelt much the same way during several crises in the First World War. I\ngazed from face to face, striving to read their expressions, and in a\nmood to make good my threat without any further heroics, if the decision\nwas against me.\n\nBut it was Hart who sensed the temper of the Council more quickly than I\ndid, and looked beyond it into the future.\n\nHe arose from the tree trunk on which he had been sitting.\n\n\"That settles it,\" he said, looking around the ring. \"I have felt this\nthing coming on for some time now. I'm sure the Council agrees with me\nthat there is among us a man more capable than I, to boss the Wyoming\nGang, despite his handicap of having had all too short a time in which\nto familiarize himself with our modern ways and facilities. Whatever I\ncan do to support his effective leadership, at any cost, I pledge myself\nto do.\"\n\nAs he concluded, he advanced to where I stood, and taking from his head\nthe green-crested helmet that constituted his badge of office, to my\nsurprise he placed it in my mechanically extended hand.\n\nThe roar of approval that went up from the Council members left me\ndazed. Somebody ultrophoned the news to the rest of the Gang, and even\nthough the earflaps of my helmet were turned up, I could hear the cheers\nwith which my invisible followers greeted me, from near and distant\nhillsides, camps and plants.\n\nMy first move was to make sure that the Phone Boss, in communicating\nthis news to the members of the Gang, had not re-broadcast my talk nor\nmentioned my plan of shifting the attack from the Bad Bloods to the\nSinsings. I was relieved by his assurance that he had not, for it would\nhave wrecked the whole plan. Everything depended upon our ability to\nsurprise the Sinsings.\n\nSo I pledged the Council and my companions to secrecy, and allowed it to\nbe believed that we were about to take to the air and the trees against\nthe Bad Bloods.\n\nThat outfit must have been badly scared, the way they were \"burning\" the\nether with ultrophone alibis and propaganda for the benefit of the more\ndistant gangs. It was their old game, and the only method by which they\nhad avoided extermination long ago from their immediate neighbors--these\nappeals to the spirit of American brotherhood, addressed to gangs too\nfar away to have had the sort of experience with them that had fallen to\nour lot.\n\nI chuckled. Here was another good reason for the shift in my plans. Were\nwe actually to undertake the exterminations of the Bad Bloods at once,\nit would have been a hard job to convince some of the gangs that we had\nnot been precipitate and unjustified. Jealousies and prejudices existed.\nThere were gangs which would give the benefit of the doubt to the Bad\nBloods, rather than to ourselves, and the issue was now hopelessly\nbeclouded with the clever lies that were being broadcast in an unceasing\nstream.\n\nBut the extermination of the Sinsings would be another thing. In the\nfirst place, there would be no warning of our action until it was all\nover, I hoped. In the second place, we would have indisputable proof, in\nthe form of their rep-ray ships and other paraphernalia, of their\ntraffic with the Hans; and the state of American prejudice, at the time\nof which I write held trafficking with the Hans a far more heinous thing\nthan even a vicious gang feud.\n\nI called an executive session of the Council at once. I wanted to\ninventory our military resources.\n\nI created a new office on the spot, that of \"Control Boss,\" and\nappointed Ned Garlin to the post, turning over his former responsibility\nas Plants Boss to his assistant. I needed someone, I felt, to tie in the\nrecords of the various functional activities of the campaign, and take\nover from me the task of keeping the records of them up to the minute.\n\nI received reports from the bosses of the ultrophone unit, and those of\nfood, transportation, fighting gear, chemistry, electronic activity and\nelectrophone intelligence, ultroscopes, air patrol and contact guard.\n\nMy ideas for the campaign, of course, were somewhat tinged with my 20th\nCentury experience, and I found myself faced with the task of working\nout a staff organization that was a composite of the best and most\neasily applied principles of business and military efficiency, as I knew\nthem from the viewpoint of immediate practicality.\n\nWhat I wanted was an organization that would be specialized,\nfunctionally, not as that indicated above, but from the angles of:\nintelligence as to the Sinsings' activities; intelligence as to Han\nactivities; perfection of communication with my own units; co-operation\nof field command; and perfect mobilization of emergency supplies and\nresources.\n\nIt took several hours of hard work with the Council to map out the plan.\nFirst we assigned functional experts and equipment to each \"Division\" in\naccordance with its needs. Then these in turn were reassigned by the new\nDivision Bosses to the Field Commands as needed, or as Independent or\nHeadquarters Units. The two intelligence divisions were named the White\nand the Yellow, indicating that one specialized on the American enemy\nand the other on the Mongolians.\n\nThe division in charge of our own communications, the assignment of\nultrophone frequencies and strengths, and the maintenance of operators\nand equipment, I called \"Communications.\"\n\nI named Bill Hearn to the post of Field Boss, in charge of the main or\nundetached fighting units, and to the Resources Division, I assigned all\nresponsibility for what few aircraft we had; and all transportation and\nsupply problems, I assigned to \"Resources.\" The functional bosses stayed\nwith this division.\n\nWe finally completed our organization with the assignment of liaison\nrepresentatives among the various divisions as needed.\n\nThus I had a \"Headquarters Staff\" composed of the Division Bosses who\nreported directly to Ned Garlin as Control Boss, or to Wilma as my\npersonal assistant. And each of the Division Bosses had a small staff of\nhis own.\n\nIn the final summing up of our personnel and resources, I found we had\nroughly a thousand \"troops,\" of whom some three hundred and fifty were,\nin what I called the Service Divisions, the rest being in Bill Hearn's\nField Division. This latter number, however, was cut down somewhat by\nthe assignment of numerous small units to detached service. Altogether,\nthe actual available fighting force, I figured, would number about five\nhundred, by the time we actually went into action.\n\nWe had only six small swoopers, but I had an ingenious plan in my mind,\nas the result of our little raid on Nu-yok, that would make this\nsufficient, since the reserves of inertron blocks were larger than I\nexpected to find them. The Resources Division, by packing its supply\ncases a bit tight, or by slipping in extra blocks of inertron, was able\nto reduce each to a weight of a few ounces. These easily could be\nfloated and towed by the swoopers in any quantity. Hitched to ultron\nlines, it would be a virtual impossibility for them to break loose.\n\nThe entire personnel, of course, was supplied with jumpers, and if each\nman and girl was careful to adjust balances properly, the entire number\ncould also be towed along through the air, grasping wires of ultron,\nswinging below the swoopers, or stringing out behind them.\n\nThere would be nothing tiring about this, because the strain would be no\ngreater than that of carrying a one or two pound weight in the hand,\nexcept for air friction at high speeds. But to make doubly sure that we\nshould lose none of our personnel, I gave strict orders that the belts\nand tow lines should be equipped with rings and hooks.\n\nSo great was the efficiency of the fundamental organization and\ndiscipline of the Gang, that we got under way at nightfall.\n\nOne by one the swoopers eased into the air, each followed by its long\ntrain or \"kite-tail\" of humanity and supply cases hanging lightly from\nits tow line. For convenience, the tow lines were made of an alloy of\nultron which, unlike the metal itself, is visible.\n\nAt first these \"tails\" hung downward, but as the ships swung into\nformation and headed eastward toward the Bad Blood territory, gathering\nspeed, they began to string out behind. And swinging low from each ship\non heavily weighted lines, ultroscope, ultrophone, and straight-vision\nobservers keenly scanned the countryside, while intelligence men in the\nswoopers above bent over their instrument boards and viewplates.\n\nLeaving Control Boss Ned Garlin temporarily in charge of affairs, Wilma\nand I dropped a weighted line from our ship, and slid down about half\nway to the under lookouts, that is to say, about a thousand feet. The\nsensation of floating swiftly through the air like this, in the absolute\nsecurity of one's confidence in the inertron belt, was one of\nnever-ending delight to me.\n\nWe reascended into the swooper as the expedition approached the\nterritory of the Bad Bloods, and directed the preparations for the\nbombardment. It was part of my plan to appear to carry out the attack as\noriginally planned.\n\nAbout fifteen miles from their camps our ships came to a halt and\nmaintained their positions for a while with the idling blasts of their\nrocket motors, to give the ultroscope operators a chance to make a\nthorough examination of the territory below us, for it was very\nimportant that this next step in our program should be carried out with\nall secrecy.\n\nAt length they reported the ground below us entirely clear of any\nappearance of human occupation, and a gun unit of long-range specialists\nwas lowered with a dozen rocket guns, equipped with special automatic\ndevices that the Resources Division had developed at my request, a few\nhours before our departure. These were aiming and timing devices. After\ncalculating the range, elevation and rocket charges carefully, the guns\nwere left, concealed in a ravine, and the men were hauled up into the\nship again. At the predetermined hour, those unmanned rocket guns would\nbegin automatically to bombard the Bad Bloods' hillsides, shifting their\naim and elevation slightly with each shot, as did many of our artillery\npieces in the First World War.\n\nIn the meantime, we turned south about twenty miles, and grounded,\nwaiting for the bombardment to begin before we attempted to sneak across\nthe Han ship lane. I was relying for security on the distraction that\nthe bombardment might furnish the Han observers.\n\nIt was tense work waiting, but the affair went through as planned, our\nsquadron drifting across the route high enough to enable the ships'\ntails of troops and supply cases to clear the ground.\n\nIn crossing the second ship route, out along the Beaches of Jersey, we\nwere not so successful in escaping observation. A Han ship came speeding\nalong at a very low elevation. We caught it on our electronic location\nand direction finders, and also located it with our ultroscopes, but it\ncame so fast and so low that I thought it best to remain where we had\ngrounded the second time, and lie quiet, rather than get under way and\ncross in front of it.\n\nThe point was this. While the Hans had no such devices as our\nultroscopes, with which we could see in the dark (within certain\nlimitations of course), and their electronic instruments would be\nvirtually useless in uncovering our presence, since all but natural\nelectronic activities were carefully eliminated from our apparatus,\nexcept electrophone receivers (which are not easily spotted), the Hans\ndid have some very highly sensitive sound devices which operated with\ngreat efficiency in calm weather, so far as sounds emanating from the\nair were concerned. But the \"ground roar\" greatly confused their use of\nthese instruments in the location of specific sounds floating up from\nthe surface of the earth.\n\nThis ship must have caught some slight noise of ours, however, in its\nsensitive instruments, for we heard its electronic devices go into play,\nand picked up the routine report of the noise to its Base Ship\nCommander. But from the nature of the conversation, I judged they had\nnot identified it, and were, in fact, more curious about the detonations\nthey were picking up now from the Bad Blood lands some sixty miles or so\nto the west.\n\nImmediately after this ship had shot by, we took the air again, and\nfollowing much the same route that I had taken the previous night,\nclimbed in a long semi-circle out over the ocean, swung toward the north\nand finally the west. We set our course, however, for the Sinsings' land\nnorth of Nu-yok, instead of for the city itself.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\nThe Finger of Doom\n\n\nAs we crossed the Hudson River, a few miles north of the city, we\ndropped several units of the Yellow Intelligence Division, with full\ninstrumental equipment. Their apparatus cases were nicely balanced at\nonly a few ounces weight each, and the men used their chute capes to\nease their drops.\n\nWe recrossed the river a little distance above and began dropping White\nIntelligence units and a few long and short range gun units. Then we\nheld our position until we began to get reports. Gradually we ringed the\nterritory of the Sinsings, our observation units working busily and\npatiently at their locators and scopes, both aloft and aground, until\nGarlin finally turned to me with the remark:\n\n\"The map circle is complete now, Boss. We've got clear locations all the\nway around them.\"\n\n\"Let me see it,\" I replied, and studied the illuminated viewplate map,\nwith its little overlapping circles of light that indicated spots proved\nclear of the enemy by ultroscopic observation.\n\nI nodded to Bill Hearn. \"Go ahead now, Hearn,\" I said, \"and place your\nbarrage men.\"\n\nHe spoke into his ultrophone, and three of the ships began to glide in a\nwide ring around the enemy territory. Every few seconds, at the word\nfrom his Unit Boss, a gunner would drop off the wire, and slipping the\nclasp of his chute cape, drift down into the darkness below.\n\nBill formed two lines, parallel to and facing the river, and enclosing\nthe entire territory of the enemy between them. Above and below,\nstraddling the river, were two defensive lines. These latter were merely\nto hold their positions. The others were to close in toward each other,\npushing a high-explosive barrage five miles ahead of them. When the two\nbarrages met, both lines were to switch to short-vision-range barrage\nand continue to close in on any of the enemy who might have drifted\nthrough the previous curtain of fire.\n\nIn the meantime Bill kept his reserves, a picked corps of a hundred men\n(the same that had accompanied Hart and myself in our fight with the Han\nsquadron) in the air, divided about equally among the \"kite-tails\" of\nfour ships.\n\nA final roll call, by units, companies, divisions and functions,\nestablished the fact that all our forces were in position. No Han\nactivity was reported, and no Han broadcasts indicated any suspicion of\nour expedition. Nor was there any indication that the Sinsings had any\nknowledge of the fate in store for them. The idling of rep-ray\ngenerators was reported from the center of their camp, obviously those\nof the ships the Hans had given them--the price of their treason to\ntheir race.\n\nAgain I gave the word, and Hearn passed on the order to his\nsubordinates.\n\nFar below us, and several miles to the right and left, the two barrage\nlines made their appearance. From the great height to which we had\nrisen, they appeared like lines of brilliant, winking lights, and the\ndetonations were muffled by the distances into a sort of rumbling,\ndistant thunder. Hearn and his assistants were very busy: measuring,\ncalculating, and snapping out ultrophone orders to unit commanders that\nresulted in the straightening of lines and the closing of gaps in the\nbarrage.\n\nThe White Division Boss reported the utmost confusion in the Sinsing\norganization. They were, as might be expected, an inefficient, loosely\ndisciplined gang, and repeated broadcasts for help to neighboring gangs.\nIgnoring the fact that the Mongolians had not used explosives for many\ngenerations, they nevertheless jumped at the conclusion that they were\nbeing raided by the Hans. Their frantic broadcasts persisted in this\nthought, despite the nervous electrophonic inquiries of the Hans\nthemselves, to whom the sound of the battle was evidently audible, and\nwho were trying to locate the trouble.\n\nAt this point, the swooper I had sent south toward the city went into\naction as a diversion, to keep the Hans at home. Its \"kite-tail\" loaded\nwith long-range gunners, using the most highly explosive rockets we had,\nhung invisible in the darkness of the sky and bombarded the city from a\ndistance of about five miles. With an entire city to shoot at, and the\nobject of creating as much commotion therein as possible, regardless of\nactual damage, the gunners had no difficulty in hitting the mark. I\ncould see the glow of the city and the stabbing flashes of exploding\nrockets. In the end, the Hans, uncertain as to what was going on, fell\nback on a defensive policy, and shot their \"hell cylinder,\" or wall of\nupturned disintegrator rays into operation. That, of course, ended our\nbombardment of them. The rays were a perfect defense, disintegrating our\nrockets as they were reached.\n\nIf they had not sent out ships before turning on the rays, and if they\nhad none within sufficient radius already in the air, all would be well.\n\nI queried Garlin on this, but he assured me Yellow Intelligence reported\nno indications of Han ships nearer than 800 miles. This would probably\ngive us a free hand for a while, since most of their instruments\nrecorded only imperfectly or not at all, through the death wall.\n\nRequisitioning one of the viewplates of the headquarters ship, and the\nservices of an expert operator, I instructed him to focus on our lines\nbelow. I wanted a close-up of the men in action.\n\nHe began to manipulate his controls and chaotic shadows moved rapidly\nacross the plate, fading in and out of focus, until he reached an\nadjustment that gave me a picture of the forest floor, apparently 100\nfeet wide, with the intervening branches and foliage of the trees\nappearing like shadows that melted into reality a few feet above the\nground.\n\nI watched one man setting up his long-gun with skillful speed. His lips\npursed slightly as though he were whistling, as he adjusted the tall\ntripod on which the long tube was balanced. Swiftly he twirled the knobs\ncontrolling the aim and elevation of his piece. Then, lifting a belt of\nammunition from the big box, which itself looked heavy enough to break\ndown the spindly tripod, he inserted the end of it in the lock of his\ntube and touched the proper combination of buttons.\n\nThen he stepped aside, and occupied himself with peering carefully\nthrough the trees ahead. Not even a tremor shook the tube, but I knew\nthat at intervals of something less than a second, it was discharging\nsmall projectiles which, traveling under their own continuously reduced\npower, were arching into the air, to fall precisely five miles ahead and\nexplode with the force of eight-inch shells, such as we used in the\nFirst World War.\n\nAnother gunner, fifty feet to the right of him, waved a hand and called\nout something to him. Then, picking up his own tube and tripod, he\ngauged the distance between the trees ahead of him, and the height of\ntheir lowest branches, and bending forward a bit, flexed his muscles and\nleaped lightly, some twenty-five feet. Another leap took him another\ntwenty feet or so, where he began to set up his piece.\n\nI ordered my observer then to switch to the barrage itself. He got a\nclose focus on it, but this showed little except a continuous series of\nblinding flashes, which, from the viewplate, lit up the entire interior\nof the ship. An eight-hundred-foot focus proved better. I had thought\nthat some of our French and American artillery of the 20th Century had\nachieved the ultimate in mathematical precision of fire, but I had never\nseen anything to equal the accuracy of that line of terrific explosions\nas it moved steadily forward, mowing down trees as a scythe cuts grass\n(or used to 500 years ago), literally churning up the earth and the\nsplintered, blasted remains of the forest giants, to a depth of from ten\nto twenty feet.\n\nBy now the two curtains of fire were nearing each other, lines of\nvibrant, shimmering, continuous, brilliant destruction, inevitably\nsqueezing the panic-stricken Sinsings between them.\n\nEven as I watched, a group of them, who had been making a futile effort\nto get their three rep-ray machines into the air, abandoned their\nefforts, and rushed forth into the milling mob.\n\nI queried the Control Boss sharply on the futility of this attempt of\ntheirs, and learned that the Hans, apparently in doubt as to what was\ngoing on, had continued to \"play safe,\" and broken off their power\nbroadcast, after ordering all their own ships east of the Alleghenies to\nthe ground, for fear these ships they had traded to the Sinsings might\nbe used against them.\n\nAgain I turned to my viewplate, which was still focussed on the central\nsection of the Sinsing works. The confusion of the traitors was entirely\nthat of fear, for our barrage had not yet reached them.\n\nSome of them set up their long-guns and fired at random over the barrage\nline, then gave it up. They realized that they had no target to shoot\nat, no way of knowing whether our gunners were a few hundred feet or\nseveral miles beyond it.\n\nTheir ultrophone men, of whom they did not have many, stood around in\ntense attitudes, their helmet phones strapped around their ears,\nnervously fingering the tuning controls at their belts. Unquestionably\nthey must have located some of our frequencies, and overheard many of\nour reports and orders. But they were confused and disorganized. If they\nhad an Ultrophone Boss they evidently were not reporting to him in an\norganized way.\n\nThey were beginning to draw back now before our advancing fire. With\nintermittent desperation, they began to shoot over our barrage again,\nand the explosions of their rockets flashed at widely scattered points\nbeyond. A few took distance \"pot shots.\"\n\nOddly enough it was our own forces that suffered the first casualties in\nthe battle. Some of these distance shots by chance registered hits,\nwhile our men were under strict orders not to exceed their barrage\ndistances.\n\nSeen upon the ultroscope viewplate, the battle looked as though it were\nbeing fought in daylight, perhaps on a cloudy day, while the explosions\nof the rockets appeared as flashes of extra brilliance.\n\nThe two barrage lines were not more than five hundred feet apart when\nthe Sinsings resorted to tactics we had not foreseen. We noticed first\nthat they began to lighten themselves by throwing away extra equipment.\nA few of them in their excitement threw away too much, and shot suddenly\ninto the air. Then a scattering few floated up gently, followed by\nincreasing numbers, while still others, preserving a weight balance,\njumped toward the closing barrages and leaped high, hoping to clear\nthem. Some succeeded. We saw others blown about like leaves in a\nwindstorm, to crumple and drift slowly down, or else to fall into the\nbarrage, their belts blown from their bodies.\n\nHowever, it was not part of our plan to allow a single one of them to\nescape and find his way to the Hans. I quickly passed the word to Bill\nHearn to have the alternate men in his line raise their barrages and\nheard him bark out a mathematical formula to the Unit Bosses.\n\nWe backed off our ships as the explosions climbed into the air in\nstagger formation until they reached a height of three miles. I don't\nbelieve any of the Sinsings who tried to float away to freedom\nsucceeded.\n\nBut we did know later, that a few who leaped the barrage got away and\nultimately reached Nu-yok.\n\nIt was those who managed to jump the barrage who gave us the most\ntrouble. With half of our long-guns turned aloft, I foresaw we would not\nhave enough to establish successive ground barrages and so ordered the\nbarrage back two miles, from which positions our \"curtains\" began to\nclose in again, this time, however, gauged to explode, not on contact,\nbut thirty feet in the air. This left little chance for the Sinsings to\nleap either over or under it.\n\nGradually, the two barrages approached each other until they finally\nmet, and in the grey dawn the battle ended.\n\nOur own casualties amounted to forty-seven men in the ground forces,\neighteen of whom had been slain in hand to hand fighting with the few of\nthe enemy who managed to reach our lines, and sixty-two in the crew and\n\"kite-tail\" force of swooper No. 4, which had been located by one of\nthe enemy's ultroscopes and brought down with long-gun fire.\n\nSince nearly every member of the Sinsing Gang had, so far as we knew,\nbeen killed, we considered the raid a great success.\n\nIt had, however, a far greater significance than this. To all of us who\ntook part in the expedition, the effectiveness of our barrage tactics\ndefinitely established a confidence in our ability to overcome the Hans.\n\nAs I pointed out to Wilma:\n\n\"It has been my belief all along, dear, that the American explosive\nrocket is a far more efficient weapon than the disintegrator ray of the\nHans, once we can train all our gangs to use it systematically and in\nco-ordinated fashion. As a weapon in the hands of a single individual,\nshooting at a mark in direct line of vision, the rocket-gun is inferior\nin destructive power to the dis ray, except as its range may be a little\ngreater. The trouble is that to date it has been used only as we used\nour rifles and shot guns in the 20th Century. The possibilities of its\nuse as artillery, in laying barrages that advance along the ground, or\nclimb into the air, are tremendous.\n\n\"The dis ray inevitably reveals its source of emanation. The rocket gun\ndoes not. The dis ray can reach its target only in a straight line. The\nrocket may be made to travel in an arc, over intervening obstacles, to\nan unseen target.\n\n\"Nor must we forget that our ultronists now are promising us a perfect\nshield against the dis ray in inertron.\"\n\n\"I tremble though, Tony dear, when I think of the horrors that are ahead\nof us. The Hans are clever. They will develop defenses against our new\ntactics. And they are sure to mass against us not only the full force of\ntheir power in America, but the united forces of the World Empire. They\nare a cowardly race in one sense, but clever as the very Devils in Hell,\nand inheritors of a calm, ruthless, vicious persistency.\"\n\n\"Nevertheless,\" I prophesied, \"the Finger of Doom points squarely at\nthem today, and unless you and I are killed in the struggle, we shall\nlive to see America blast the Yellow Blight from the face of the Earth.\"\n\n\nTHE END.\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber's Note:\n\n    This etext was produced from _Amazing Stories_ August 1928.\n    Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.\n    copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and\n    typographical errors have been corrected without note.\n\n\n\n\n\nEnd of Project Gutenberg's Armageddon--2419 A.D., by Philip Francis Nowlan\n\nNow, answer the question based on the story asconcisely as you can, using a single phrase if possible. Do not provide any explanation.\n\nQuestion: In what year did Rogers awaken from his deep slumber?\n\nAnswer:"}
{"question_id": 131, "category": "longbench_narrativeqa", "reference": ["Radioactive gas"], "prompt": "You are given a story, which can be either a novel or a movie script, and a question. Answer the question asconcisely as you can, using a single phrase if possible. Do not provide any explanation.\n\nStory: Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nARMAGEDDON--2419 A.D.\n\n_By Philip Francis Nowlan_\n\n\n    _Here, once more, is a real scientifiction story plus. It is a story\n    which will make the heart of many readers leap with joy._\n\n    _We have rarely printed a story in this magazine that for scientific\n    interest, as well as suspense, could hold its own with this\n    particular story. We prophesy that this story will become more\n    valuable as the years go by. It certainly holds a number of\n    interesting prophecies, of which no doubt, many will come true. For\n    wealth of science, it will be hard to beat for some time to come. It\n    is one of those rare stories that will bear reading and re-reading\n    many times._\n\n    _This story has impressed us so favorably, that we hope the author\n    may be induced to write a sequel to it soon._\n\n\n\n\nForeword\n\n\nElsewhere I have set down, for whatever interest they have in this, the\n25th Century, my personal recollections of the 20th Century.\n\nNow it occurs to me that my memoirs of the 25th Century may have an\nequal interest 500 years from now--particularly in view of that unique\nperspective from which I have seen the 25th Century, entering it as I\ndid, in one leap across a gap of 492 years.\n\nThis statement requires elucidation. There are still many in the world\nwho are not familiar with my unique experience. Five centuries from now\nthere may be many more, especially if civilization is fated to endure\nany worse convulsions than those which have occurred between 1975 A.D.\nand the present time.\n\nI should state therefore, that I, Anthony Rogers, am, so far as I know,\nthe only man alive whose normal span of eighty-one years of life has\nbeen spread over a period of 573 years. To be precise, I lived the first\ntwenty-nine years of my life between 1898 and 1927; the other fifty-two\nsince 2419. The gap between these two, a period of nearly five hundred\nyears, I spent in a state of suspended animation, free from the ravages\nof katabolic processes, and without any apparent effect on my physical\nor mental faculties.\n\nWhen I began my long sleep, man had just begun his real conquest of the\nair in a sudden series of transoceanic flights in airplanes driven by\ninternal combustion motors. He had barely begun to speculate on the\npossibilities of harnessing sub-atomic forces, and had made no further\npractical penetration into the field of ethereal pulsations than the\nprimitive radio and television of that day. The United States of America\nwas the most powerful nation in the world, its political, financial,\nindustrial and scientific influence being supreme; and in the arts also\nit was rapidly climbing into leadership.\n\nI awoke to find the America I knew a total wreck--to find Americans a\nhunted race in their own land, hiding in the dense forests that covered\nthe shattered and leveled ruins of their once magnificent cities,\ndesperately preserving, and struggling to develop in their secret\nretreats, the remnants of their culture and science--and the undying\nflame of their sturdy independence.\n\nWorld domination was in the hands of Mongolians and the center of world\npower lay in inland China, with Americans one of the few races of\nmankind unsubdued--and it must be admitted in fairness to the truth, not\nworth the trouble of subduing in the eyes of the Han Airlords who ruled\nNorth America as titular tributaries of the Most Magnificent.\n\nFor they needed not the forests in which the Americans lived, nor the\nresources of the vast territories these forests covered. With the\nperfection to which they had reduced the synthetic production of\nnecessities and luxuries, their remarkable development of scientific\nprocesses and mechanical accomplishment of work, they had no economic\nneed for the forests, and no economic desire for the enslaved labor of\nan unruly race.\n\nThey had all they needed for their magnificently luxurious and degraded\nscheme of civilization, within the walls of the fifteen cities of\nsparkling glass they had flung skyward on the sites of ancient American\ncenters, into the bowels of the earth underneath them, and with\nrelatively small surrounding areas of agriculture.\n\nComplete domination of the air rendered communication between these\ncenters a matter of ease and safety. Occasional destructive raids on the\nwaste lands were considered all that was necessary to keep the \"wild\"\nAmericans on the run within the shelter of their forests, and prevent\ntheir becoming a menace to the Han civilization.\n\nBut nearly three hundred years of easily maintained security, the last\ncentury of which had been nearly sterile in scientific, social and\neconomic progress, had softened and devitalized the Hans.\n\nIt had likewise developed, beneath the protecting foliage of the forest,\nthe growth of a vigorous new American civilization, remarkable in the\nmobility and flexibility of its organization, in its conquest of almost\ninsuperable obstacles, in the development and guarding of its industrial\nand scientific resources, all in anticipation of that \"Day of Hope\" to\nwhich it had been looking forward for generations, when it would be\nstrong enough to burst from the green chrysalis of the forests, soar\ninto the upper air lanes and destroy the yellow incubus.\n\nAt the time I awoke, the \"Day of Hope\" was almost at hand. I shall not\nattempt to set forth a detailed history of the Second War of\nIndependence, for that has been recorded already by better historians\nthan I am. Instead I shall confine myself largely to the part I was\nfortunate enough to play in this struggle and in the events leading up\nto it.\n\n[Illustration: Seen upon the ultroscope viewplate, the battle looked as\nthough it were being fought in daylight, perhaps on a cloudy day, while\nthe explosions of the rockets appeared as flashes of extra brilliance.]\n\nIt all resulted from my interest in radioactive gases. During the latter\npart of 1927 my company, the American Radioactive Gas Corporation, had\nbeen keeping me busy investigating reports of unusual phenomena observed\nin certain abandoned coal mines near the Wyoming Valley, in\nPennsylvania.\n\nWith two assistants and a complete equipment of scientific instruments,\nI began the exploration of a deserted working in a mountainous district,\nwhere several weeks before, a number of mining engineers had reported\ntraces of carnotite[1] and what they believed to be radioactive gases.\nTheir report was not without foundation, it was apparent from the\noutset, for in our examination of the upper levels of the mine, our\ninstruments indicated a vigorous radioactivity.\n\n    [1] A hydrovanadate of uranium, and other metals; used as a source\n    of radium compounds.\n\nOn the morning of December 15th, we descended to one of the lowest\nlevels. To our surprise, we found no water there. Obviously it had\ndrained off through some break in the strata. We noticed too that the\nrock in the side walls of the shaft was soft, evidently due to the\nradioactivity, and pieces crumbled under foot rather easily. We made our\nway cautiously down the shaft, when suddenly the rotted timbers above us\ngave way.\n\nI jumped ahead, barely escaping the avalanche of coal and soft rock, but\nmy companions, who were several paces behind me, were buried under it,\nand undoubtedly met instant death.\n\nI was trapped. Return was impossible. With my electric torch I explored\nthe shaft to its end, but could find no other way out. The air became\nincreasingly difficult to breathe, probably from the rapid accumulation\nof the radioactive gas. In a little while my senses reeled and I lost\nconsciousness.\n\nWhen I awoke, there was a cool and refreshing circulation of air in the\nshaft. I had no thought that I had been unconscious more than a few\nhours, although it seems that the radioactive gas had kept me in a state\nof suspended animation for something like 500 years. My awakening, I\nfigured out later, had been due to some shifting of the strata which\nreopened the shaft and cleared the atmosphere in the working. This must\nhave been the case, for I was able to struggle back up the shaft over a\npile of debris, and stagger up the long incline to the mouth of the\nmine, where an entirely different world, overgrown with a vast forest\nand no visible sign of human habitation, met my eyes.\n\nI shall pass over the days of mental agony that followed in my attempt\nto grasp the meaning of it all. There were times when I felt that I was\non the verge of insanity. I roamed the unfamiliar forest like a lost\nsoul. Had it not been for the necessity of improvising traps and crude\nclubs with which to slay my food, I believe I should have gone mad.\n\nSuffice it to say, however, that I survived this psychic crisis. I shall\nbegin my narrative proper with my first contact with Americans of the\nyear 2419 A.D.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nFloating Men\n\n\nMy first glimpse of a human being of the 25th Century was obtained\nthrough a portion of woodland where the trees were thinly scattered,\nwith a dense forest beyond.\n\nI had been wandering along aimlessly, and hopelessly, musing over my\nstrange fate, when I noticed a figure that cautiously backed out of the\ndense growth across the glade. I was about to call out joyfully, but\nthere was something furtive about the figure that prevented me. The\nboy's attention (for it seemed to be a lad of fifteen or sixteen) was\ncentered tensely on the heavy growth of trees from which he had just\nemerged.\n\nHe was clad in rather tight-fitting garments entirely of green, and wore\na helmet-like cap of the same color. High around his waist he wore a\nbroad, thick belt, which bulked up in the back across the shoulders,\ninto something of the proportions of a knapsack.\n\nAs I was taking in these details, there came a vivid flash and heavy\ndetonation, like that of a hand grenade, not far to the left of him. He\nthrew up an arm and staggered a bit in a queer, gliding way; then he\nrecovered himself and slipped cautiously away from the place of the\nexplosion, crouching slightly, and still facing the denser part of the\nforest. Every few steps he would raise his arm, and point into the\nforest with something he held in his hand. Wherever he pointed there was\na terrific explosion, deeper in among the trees. It came to me then that\nhe was shooting with some form of pistol, though there was neither flash\nnor detonation from the muzzle of the weapon itself.\n\nAfter firing several times, he seemed to come to a sudden resolution,\nand turning in my general direction, leaped--to my amazement sailing\nthrough the air between the sparsely scattered trees in such a jump as I\nhad never in my life seen before. That leap must have carried him a full\nfifty feet, although at the height of his arc, he was not more than ten\nor twelve feet from the ground.\n\nWhen he alighted, his foot caught in a projecting root, and he sprawled\ngently forward. I say \"gently\" for he did not crash down as I expected\nhim to do. The only thing I could compare it with was a slow-motion\ncinema, although I had never seen one in which horizontal motions were\nregistered at normal speed and only the vertical movements were slowed\ndown.\n\nDue to my surprise, I suppose my brain did not function with its normal\nquickness, for I gazed at the prone figure for several seconds before I\nsaw the blood that oozed out from under the tight green cap. Regaining\nmy power of action, I dragged him out of sight back of the big tree. For\na few moments I busied myself in an attempt to staunch the flow of\nblood. The wound was not a deep one. My companion was more dazed than\nhurt. But what of the pursuers?\n\nI took the weapon from his grasp and examined it hurriedly. It was not\nunlike the automatic pistol to which I was accustomed, except that it\napparently fired with a button instead of a trigger. I inserted several\nfresh rounds of ammunition into its magazine from my companion's belt,\nas rapidly as I could, for I soon heard, near us, the suppressed\nconversation of his pursuers.\n\nThere followed a series of explosions round about us, but none very\nclose. They evidently had not spotted our hiding place, and were firing\nat random.\n\nI waited tensely, balancing the gun in my hand, to accustom myself to\nits weight and probable throw.\n\nThen I saw a movement in the green foliage of a tree not far away, and\nthe head and face of a man appeared. Like my companion, he was clad\nentirely in green, which made his figure difficult to distinguish. But\nhis face could be seen clearly. It was an evil face, and had murder in\nit.\n\nThat decided me. I raised the gun and fired. My aim was bad, for there\nwas no kick in the gun, as I had expected, and I hit the trunk of the\ntree several feet below him. It blew him from his perch like a crumpled\nbit of paper, and he _floated_ down to the ground, like some limp, dead\nthing, gently lowered by an invisible hand. The tree, its trunk blown\napart by the explosion, crashed down.\n\nThere followed another series of explosions around us. These guns we\nwere using made no sound in the firing, and my opponents were evidently\nas much at sea as to my position as I was to theirs. So I made no\nattempt to reply to their fire, contenting myself with keeping a sharp\nlookout in their general direction. And patience had its reward.\n\nVery soon I saw a cautious movement in the top of another tree. Exposing\nmyself as little as possible, I aimed carefully at the tree trunk and\nfired again. A shriek followed the explosion. I heard the tree crash\ndown; then a groan.\n\nThere was silence for a while. Then I heard a faint sound of boughs\nswishing. I shot three times in its direction, pressing the button as\nrapidly as I could. Branches crashed down where my shells had exploded,\nbut there was no body.\n\nThen I saw one of them. He was starting one of those amazing leaps from\nthe bough of one tree to another, about forty feet away.\n\nI threw up my gun impulsively and fired. By now I had gotten the feel of\nthe weapon, and my aim was good. I hit him. The \"bullet\" must have\npenetrated his body and exploded. For one moment I saw him flying\nthrough the air. Then the explosion, and he had vanished. He never\nfinished his leap. It was annihilation.\n\nHow many more of them there were I don't know. But this must have been\ntoo much for them. They used a final round of shells on us, all of which\nexploded harmlessly, and shortly after I heard them swishing and\ncrashing away from us through the tree tops. Not one of them descended\nto earth.\n\nNow I had time to give some attention to my companion. She was, I found,\na girl, and not a boy. Despite her bulky appearance, due to the peculiar\nbelt strapped around her body high up under the arms, she was very\nslender, and very pretty.\n\nThere was a stream not far away, from which I brought water and bathed\nher face and wound.\n\nApparently the mystery of these long leaps, the monkey-like ability to\njump from bough to bough, and of the bodies that floated gently down\ninstead of falling, lay in the belt. The thing was some sort of\nanti-gravity belt that almost balanced the weight of the wearer, thereby\ntremendously multiplying the propulsive power of the leg muscles, and\nthe lifting power of the arms.\n\nWhen the girl came to, she regarded me as curiously as I did her, and\npromptly began to quiz me. Her accent and intonation puzzled me a lot,\nbut nevertheless we were able to understand each other fairly well,\nexcept for certain words and phrases. I explained what had happened\nwhile she lay unconscious, and she thanked me simply for saving her\nlife.\n\n\"You are a strange exchange,\" she said, eying my clothing quizzically.\nEvidently she found it mirth provoking by contrast with her own neatly\nefficient garb. \"Don't you understand what I mean by 'exchange?' I mean\nah--let me see--a stranger, somebody from some other gang. What gang do\nyou belong to?\" (She pronounced it \"gan,\" with only a suspicion of a\nnasal sound.)\n\nI laughed. \"I'm not a gangster,\" I said. But she evidently did not\nunderstand this word. \"I don't belong to any gang,\" I explained, \"and\nnever did. Does everybody belong to a gang nowadays?\"\n\n\"Naturally,\" she said, frowning. \"If you don't belong to a gang, where\nand how do you live? Why have you not found and joined a gang? How do\nyou eat? Where do you get your clothing?\"\n\n\"I've been eating wild game for the past two weeks,\" I explained, \"and\nthis clothing I--er--ah--.\" I paused, wondering how I could explain that\nit must be many hundred years old.\n\nIn the end I saw I would have to tell my story as well as I could,\npiecing it together with my assumptions as to what had happened. She\nlistened patiently; incredulously at first, but with more confidence as\nI went on. When I had finished, she sat thinking for a long time.\n\n\"That's hard to believe,\" she said, \"but I believe it.\" She looked me\nover with frank interest.\n\n\"Were you married when you slipped into unconsciousness down in that\nmine?\" she asked me suddenly. I assured her I had never married. \"Well,\nthat simplifies matters,\" she continued. \"You see, if you were\ntechnically classed as a family man, I could take you back only as an\ninvited exchange and I, being unmarried, and no relation of yours,\ncouldn't do the inviting.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nThe Forest Gangs\n\n\nShe gave me a brief outline of the very peculiar social and economic\nsystem under which her people lived. At least it seemed very peculiar\nfrom my 20th Century viewpoint.\n\nI learned with amazement that exactly 492 years had passed over my head\nas I lay unconscious in the mine.\n\nWilma, for that was her name, did not profess to be a historian, and so\ncould give me only a sketchy outline of the wars that had been fought,\nand the manner in which such radical changes had come about. It seemed\nthat another war had followed the First World War, in which nearly all\nthe European nations had banded together to break the financial and\nindustrial power of America. They succeeded in their purpose, though\nthey were beaten, for the war was a terrific one, and left America, like\nthemselves, gasping, bleeding and disorganized, with only the hollow\nshell of a victory.\n\nThis opportunity had been seized by the Russian Soviets, who had made a\ncoalition with the Chinese, to sweep over all Europe and reduce it to a\nstate of chaos.\n\nAmerica, industrially geared to world production and the world trade,\ncollapsed economically, and there ensued a long period of stagnation and\ndesperate attempts at economic reconstruction. But it was impossible to\nstave off war with the Mongolians, who by now had subjugated the\nRussians, and were aiming at a world empire.\n\nIn about 2109, it seems, the conflict was finally precipitated. The\nMongolians, with overwhelming fleets of great airships, and a science\nthat far outstripped that of crippled America, swept in over the Pacific\nand Atlantic Coasts, and down from Canada, annihilating American\naircraft, armies and cities with their terrific _disintegrator_ rays.\nThese rays were projected from a machine not unlike a searchlight in\nappearance, the reflector of which, however, was not material substance,\nbut a complicated balance of interacting electronic forces. This\nresulted in a terribly destructive beam. Under its influence, material\nsubstance melted into \"nothingness\"; i. e., into electronic vibrations.\nIt destroyed all then known substances, from air to the most dense\nmetals and stone.\n\nThey settled down to the establishment of what became known as the Han\ndynasty in America, as a sort of province in their World Empire.\n\nThose were terrible days for the Americans. They were hunted like wild\nbeasts. Only those survived who finally found refuge in mountains,\ncanyons and forests. Government was at an end among them. Anarchy\nprevailed for several generations. Most would have been eager to submit\nto the Hans, even if it meant slavery. But the Hans did not want them,\nfor they themselves had marvelous machinery and scientific process by\nwhich all difficult labor was accomplished.\n\nUltimately they stopped their active search for, and annihilation of,\nthe widely scattered groups of now savage Americans. So long as they\nremained hidden in their forests, and did not venture near the great\ncities the Hans had built, little attention was paid to them.\n\nThen began the building of the new American civilization. Families and\nindividuals gathered together in clans or \"gangs\" for mutual protection.\nFor nearly a century they lived a nomadic and primitive life, moving\nfrom place to place, in desperate fear of the casual and occasional Han\nair raids, and the terrible disintegrator ray. As the frequency of these\nraids decreased, they began to stay permanently in given localities,\norganizing upon lines which in many respects were similar to those of\nthe military households of the Norman feudal barons, except that instead\nof gathering together in castles, their defense tactics necessitated a\ncertain scattering of living quarters for families and individuals. They\nlived virtually in the open air, in the forests, in green tents,\nresorting to camouflage tactics that would conceal their presence from\nair observers. They dug underground factories and laboratories, that\nthey might better be shielded from the electrical detectors of the\nHans. They tapped the radio communication lines of the Hans, with crude\ninstruments at first; better ones later on. They bent every effort\ntoward the redevelopment of science. For many generations they labored\nas unseen, unknown scholars of the Hans, picking up their knowledge\npiecemeal, as fast as they were able to.\n\nDuring the earlier part of this period, there were many deadly wars\nfought between the various gangs, and occasional courageous but\nchildishly futile attacks upon the Hans, followed by terribly punitive\nraids.\n\nBut as knowledge progressed, the sense of American brotherhood\nredeveloped. Reciprocal arrangements were made among the gangs over\nconstantly increasing areas. Trade developed to a certain extent, as\nbetween one gang and another. But the interchange of knowledge became\nmore important than that of goods, as skill in the handling of synthetic\nprocesses developed.\n\nWithin the gang, an economy was developed that was a compromise between\nindividual liberty and a military socialism. The right of private\nproperty was limited practically to personal possessions, but private\nprivileges were many, and sacredly regarded. Stimulation to achievement\nlay chiefly in the winning of various kinds of leadership and\nprerogatives, and only in a very limited degree in the hope of owning\nanything that might be classified as \"wealth,\" and nothing that might be\nclassified as \"resources.\" Resources of every description, for military\nsafety and efficiency, belonged as a matter of public interest to the\ncommunity as a whole.\n\nIn the meantime, through these many generations, the Hans had developed\na luxury economy, and with it the perfection of gilded vice and\ndegradation. The Americans were regarded as \"wild men of the woods.\" And\nsince they neither needed nor wanted the woods or the wild men, they\ntreated them as beasts, and were conscious of no human brotherhood with\nthem. As time went on, and synthetic processes of producing foods and\nmaterials were further developed, less and less ground was needed by the\nHans for the purposes of agriculture, and finally, even the working of\nmines was abandoned when it became cheaper to build up metal from\nelectronic vibrations than to dig them out of the ground.\n\nThe Han race, devitalized by its vices and luxuries, with machinery and\nscientific processes to satisfy its every want, with virtually no\nnecessity of labor, began to assume a defensive attitude toward the\nAmericans.\n\nAnd quite naturally, the Americans regarded the Hans with a deep, grim\nhatred. Conscious of individual superiority as men, knowing that\nlatterly they were outstripping the Hans in science and civilization,\nthey longed desperately for the day when they should be powerful enough\nto rise and annihilate the Yellow Blight that lay over the continent.\n\nAt the time of my awakening, the gangs were rather loosely organized,\nbut were considering the establishment of a special military force,\nwhose special business it would be to harry the Hans and bring down\ntheir air ships whenever possible without causing general alarm among\nthe Mongolians. This force was destined to become the nucleus of the\nnational force, when the Day of Retribution arrived. But that, however,\ndid not happen for ten years, and is another story.\n\n[Illustration: On the left of the illustration is a Han girl, and on the\nright is an American girl, who, like all of her race, is equipped with\nan inertron belt and a rocket gun.]\n\nWilma told me she was a member of the Wyoming Gang, which claimed the\nentire Wyoming Valley as its territory, under the leadership of Boss\nHart. Her mother and father were dead, and she was unmarried, so she was\nnot a \"family member.\" She lived in a little group of tents known as\nCamp 17, under a woman Camp Boss, with seven other girls.\n\nHer duties alternated between military or police scouting and factory\nwork. For the two-week period which would end the next day, she had been\non \"air patrol.\" This did not mean, as I first imagined, that she was\nflying, but rather that she was on the lookout for Han ships over this\noutlying section of the Wyoming territory, and had spent most of her\ntime perched in the tree tops scanning the skies. Had she seen one she\nwould have fired a \"drop flare\" several miles off to one side, which\nwould ignite when it was floating vertically toward the earth, so that\nthe direction or point from which it had been fired might not be guessed\nby the airship and bring a blasting play of the disintegrator ray in her\nvicinity. Other members of the air patrol would send up rockets on\nseeing hers, until finally a scout equipped with an ultrophone, which,\nunlike the ancient radio, operated on the ultronic ethereal vibrations,\nwould pass the warning simultaneously to the headquarters of the Wyoming\nGang and other communities within a radius of several hundred miles, not\nto mention the few American rocket ships that might be in the air, and\nwhich instantly would duck to cover either through forest clearings or\nby flattening down to earth in green fields where their coloring would\nprobably protect them from observation. The favorite American method of\npropulsion was known as \"_rocketing_.\" The _rocket_ is what I would\ndescribe, from my 20th Century comprehension of the matter, as an\nextremely powerful gas blast, atomically produced through the\nstimulation of chemical action. Scientists of today regard it as a\nchildishly simple reaction, but by that very virtue, most economical and\nefficient.\n\nBut tomorrow, she explained, she would go back to work in the cloth\nplant, where she would take charge of one of the synthetic processes by\nwhich those wonderful substitutes for woven fabrics of wool, cotton and\nsilk are produced. At the end of another two weeks, she would be back on\nmilitary duty again, perhaps at the same work, or maybe as a \"contact\nguard,\" on duty where the territory of the Wyomings merged with that of\nthe Delawares, or the \"Susquannas\" (Susquehannas) or one of the half\ndozen other \"gangs\" in that section of the country which I knew as\nPennsylvania and New York States.\n\nWilma cleared up for me the mystery of those flying leaps which she and\nher assailants had made, and explained in the following manner, how the\ninertron belt balances weight:\n\n\"_Jumpers_\" were in common use at the time I \"awoke,\" though they were\ncostly, for at that time _inertron_ had not been produced in very great\nquantity. They were very useful in the forest. They were belts,\nstrapped high under the arms, containing an amount of inertron adjusted\nto the wearer's weight and purposes. In effect they made a man weigh as\nlittle as he desired; two pounds if he liked.\n\n\"_Floaters_\" are a later development of \"_jumpers_\"--rocket motors\nencased in _inertron_ blocks and strapped to the back in such a way that\nthe wearer floats, when drifting, facing slightly downward. With his\nmotor in operation, he moves like a diver, headforemost, controlling his\ndirection by twisting his body and by movements of his outstretched arms\nand hands. Ballast weights locked in the front of the belt adjust weight\nand lift. Some men prefer a few ounces of weight in floating, using a\nslight motor thrust to overcome this. Others prefer a buoyance balance\nof a few ounces. The inadvertent dropping of weight is not a serious\nmatter. The motor thrust always can be used to descend. But as an extra\nprecaution, in case the motor should fail, for any reason, there are\nbuilt into every belt a number of detachable sections, one or more of\nwhich can be discarded to balance off any loss in weight.\n\n\"But who were your assailants,\" I asked, \"and why were you attacked?\"\n\nHer assailants, she told me, were members of an outlaw gang, referred to\nas \"Bad Bloods,\" a group which for several generations had been under\nthe domination of conscienceless leaders who tried to advance the\ninterests of their clan by tactics which their neighbors had come to\nregard as unfair, and who in consequence had been virtually boycotted.\nTheir purpose had been to slay her near the Delaware frontier, making it\nappear that the crime had been committed by Delaware scouts and thus\nembroil the Delawares and Wyomings in acts of reprisal against each\nother, or at least cause suspicions.\n\nFortunately they had not succeeded in surprising her, and she had been\nsuccessful in dodging them for some two hours before the shooting began,\nat the moment when I arrived on the scene.\n\n\"But we must not stay here talking,\" Wilma concluded. \"I have to take\nyou in, and besides I must report this attack right away. I think we had\nbetter slip over to the other side of the mountain. Whoever is on that\npost will have a phone, and I can make a direct report. But you'll have\nto have a belt. Mine alone won't help much against our combined weights,\nand there's little to be gained by jumping heavy. It's almost as bad as\nwalking.\"\n\nAfter a little search, we found one of the men I had killed, who had\nfloated down among the trees some distance away and whose belt was not\nbadly damaged. In detaching it from his body, it nearly got away from me\nand shot up in the air. Wilma caught it, however, and though it\nreinforced the lift of her own belt so that she had to hook her knee\naround a branch to hold herself down, she saved it. I climbed the tree\nand, with my weight added to hers, we floated down easily.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nLife in the 25th Century\n\n\nWe were delayed in starting for quite a while since I had to acquire a\nfew crude ideas about the technique of using these belts. I had been\nsitting down, for instance, with the belt strapped about me, enjoying an\nease similar to that of a comfortable armchair; when I stood up with a\nnatural exertion of muscular effort, I shot ten feet into the air, with\na wild instinctive thrashing of arms and legs that amused Wilma greatly.\n\nBut after some practice, I began to get the trick of gauging muscular\neffort to a minimum of vertical and a maximum of horizontal. The correct\nform, I found, was in a measure comparable to that of skating. I found,\nalso, that in forest work particularly the arms and hands could be used\nto great advantage in swinging along from branch to branch, so\nprolonging leaps almost indefinitely at times.\n\nIn going up the side of the mountain, I found that my 20th Century\nmuscles did have an advantage, in spite of lack of skill with the belt,\nand since the slopes were very sharp, and most of our leaps were upward,\nI could have distanced Wilma easily. But when we crossed the ridge and\ndescended, she outstripped me with her superior technique. Choosing the\nsteepest slopes, she would crouch in the top of a tree, and propel\nherself outward, literally diving until, with the loss of horizontal\nmomentum, she would assume a more upright position and float downward.\nIn this manner she would sometimes cover as much as a quarter of a mile\nin a single leap, while I leaped and scrambled clumsily behind,\nthoroughly enjoying the novel sensation.\n\nHalf way down the mountain, we saw another green-clad figure leap out\nabove the tree tops toward us. The three of us perched on an outcropping\nof rock from which a view for many miles around could be had, while\nWilma hastily explained her adventure and my presence to her fellow\nguard; whose name was Alan. I learned later that this was the modern\nform of Helen.\n\n\"You want to report by phone then, don't you?\" Alan took a compact\npacket about six inches square from a holster attached to her belt and\nhanded it to Wilma.\n\nSo far as I could see, it had no special receiver for the ear. Wilma\nmerely threw back a lid, as though she were opening a book, and began to\ntalk. The voice that came back from the machine was as audible as her\nown.\n\nShe was queried closely as to the attack upon her, and at considerable\nlength as to myself, and I could tell from the tone of that voice that\nits owner was not prepared to take me at my face value as readily as\nWilma had. For that matter, neither was the other girl. I could realize\nit from the suspicious glances she threw my way, when she thought my\nattention was elsewhere, and the manner in which her hand hovered\nconstantly near her gun holster.\n\nWilma was ordered to bring me in at once, and informed that another\nscout would take her place on the other side of the mountain. So she\nclosed down the lid of the phone and handed it back to Alan, who seemed\nrelieved to see us departing over the tree tops in the direction of the\ncamps.\n\nWe had covered perhaps ten miles, in what still seemed to me a\nsurprisingly easy fashion, when Wilma explained, that from here on we\nwould have to keep to the ground. We were nearing the camps, she said,\nand there was always the possibility that some small Han scoutship,\ninvisible high in the sky, might catch sight of us through a\nprojectoscope and thus find the general location of the camps.\n\nWilma took me to the Scout office, which proved to be a small building\nof irregular shape, conforming to the trees around it, and substantially\nconstructed of green sheet-like material.\n\nI was received by the assistant Scout Boss, who reported my arrival at\nonce to the historical office, and to officials he called the Psycho\nBoss and the History Boss, who came in a few minutes later. The attitude\nof all three men was at first polite but skeptical, and Wilma's ardent\nadvocacy seemed to amuse them secretly.\n\nFor the next two hours I talked, explained and answered questions. I had\nto explain, in detail, the manner of my life in the 20th Century and my\nunderstanding of customs, habits, business, science and the history of\nthat period, and about developments in the centuries that had elapsed.\nHad I been in a classroom, I would have come through the examination\nwith a very poor mark, for I was unable to give any answer to fully half\nof their questions. But before long I realized that the majority of\nthese questions were designed as traps. Objects, of whose purpose I knew\nnothing, were casually handed to me, and I was watched keenly as I\nhandled them.\n\nIn the end I could see both amazement and belief begin to show in the\nfaces of my inquisitors, and at last the Historical and Psycho Bosses\nagreed openly that they could find no flaw in my story or reactions, and\nthat unbelievable as it seemed, my story must be accepted as genuine.\n\nThey took me at once to Big Boss Hart. He was a portly man with a \"poker\nface.\" He would probably have been the successful politician even in the\n20th Century.\n\nThey gave him a brief outline of my story and a report of their\nexamination of me. He made no comment other than to nod his acceptance\nof it. Then he turned to me.\n\n\"How does it feel?\" he asked. \"Do we look funny to you?\"\n\n\"A bit strange,\" I admitted. \"But I'm beginning to lose that dazed\nfeeling, though I can see I have an awful lot to learn.\"\n\n\"Maybe we can learn some things from you, too,\" he said. \"So you fought\nin the First World War. Do you know, we have very little left in the way\nof records of the details of that war, that is, the precise conditions\nunder which it was fought, and the tactics employed. We forgot many\nthings during the Han terror, and--well, I think you might have a lot of\nideas worth thinking over for our raid masters. By the way, now that\nyou're here, and can't go back to your own century, so to speak, what do\nyou want to do? You're welcome to become one of us. Or perhaps you'd\njust like to visit with us for a while, and then look around among the\nother gangs. Maybe you'd like some of the others better. Don't make up\nyour mind now. We'll put you down as an exchange for a while. Let's see.\nYou and Bill Hearn ought to get along well together. He's Camp Boss of\nNumber 34 when he isn't acting as Raid Boss or Scout Boss. There's a\nvacancy in his camp. Stay with him and think things over as long as you\nwant to. As soon as you make up your mind to anything, let me know.\"\n\nWe all shook hands, for that was one custom that had not died out in\nfive hundred years, and I set out with Bill Hearn.\n\nBill, like all the others, was clad in green. He was a big man. That is,\nhe was about my own height, five feet eleven. This was considerably\nabove the average now, for the race had lost something in stature, it\nseemed, through the vicissitudes of five centuries. Most of the women\nwere a bit below five feet, and the men only a trifle above this height.\n\nFor a period of two weeks Bill was to confine himself to camp duties, so\nI had a good chance to familiarize myself with the community life. It\nwas not easy. There were so many marvels to absorb. I never ceased to\nwonder at the strange combination of rustic social life and feverish\nindustrial activity. At least, it was strange to me. For in my\nexperience, industrial development meant crowded cities, tenements,\npaved streets, profusion of vehicles, noise, hurrying men and women with\nstrained or dull faces, vast structures and ornate public works.\n\nHere, however, was rustic simplicity, apparently isolated families and\ngroups, living in the heart of the forest, with a quarter of a mile or\nmore between households, a total absence of crowds, no means of\nconveyance other than the belts called jumpers, almost constantly worn\nby everybody, and an occasional rocket ship, used only for longer\njourneys, and underground plants or factories that were to my mind more\nlike laboratories and engine rooms; many of them were excavations as\ndeep as mines, with well finished, lighted and comfortable interiors.\nThese people were adepts at camouflage against air observation. Not only\nwould their activity have been unsuspected by an airship passing over\nthe center of the community, but even by an enemy who might happen to\ndrop through the screen of the upper branches to the floor of the\nforest. The camps, or household structures, were all irregular in shape\nand of colors that blended with the great trees among which they were\nhidden.\n\nThere were 724 dwellings or \"camps\" among the Wyomings, located within\nan area of about fifteen square miles. The total population was 8,688,\nevery man, woman and child, whether member or \"exchange,\" being listed.\n\nThe plants were widely scattered through the territory also. Nowhere was\nanything like congestion permitted. So far as possible, families and\nindividuals were assigned to living quarters, not too far from the\nplants or offices in which their work lay.\n\nAll able-bodied men and women alternated in two-week periods between\nmilitary and industrial service, except those who were needed for\nhousehold work. Since working conditions in the plants and offices were\nideal, and everybody thus had plenty of healthy outdoor activity in\naddition, the population was sturdy and active. Laziness was regarded as\nnearly the greatest of social offenses. Hard work and general merit were\nvariously rewarded with extra privileges, advancement to positions of\nauthority, and with various items of personal equipment for convenience\nand luxury.\n\nIn leisure moments, I got great enjoyment from sitting outside the\ndwelling in which I was quartered with Bill Hearn and ten other men,\nwatching the occasional passers-by, as with leisurely, but swift\nmovements, they swung up and down the forest trail, rising from the\nground in long almost-horizontal leaps, occasionally swinging from one\nconvenient branch overhead to another before \"sliding\" back to the\nground farther on. Normal traveling pace, where these trails were\nstraight enough, was about twenty miles an hour. Such things as\nautomobiles and railroad trains (the memory of them not more than a\nmonth old in my mind) seemed inexpressibly silly and futile compared\nwith such convenience as these belts or jumpers offered.\n\nBill suggested that I wander around for several days, from plant to\nplant, to observe and study what I could. The entire community had been\napprised of my coming, my rating as an \"exchange\" reaching every\nbuilding and post in the community, by means of ultronic broadcast.\nEverywhere I was welcomed in an interested and helpful spirit.\n\nI visited the plants where ultronic vibrations were isolated from the\nether and through slow processes built up into sub-electronic,\nelectronic and atomic forms into the two great synthetic elements,\nultron and inertron. I learned something, superficially at least, of the\nprocesses of combined chemical and mechanical action through which were\nproduced the various forms of synthetic cloth. I watched the manufacture\nof the machines which were used at locations of construction to produce\nthe various forms of building materials. But I was particularly\ninterested in the munitions plants and the rocket-ship shops.\n\nUltron is a solid of great molecular density and moderate elasticity,\nwhich has the property of being 100 percent conductive to those\npulsations known as light, electricity and heat. Since it is completely\npermeable to light vibrations, it is therefore _absolutely invisible and\nnon-reflective_. Its magnetic response is almost, but not quite, 100\npercent also. It is therefore very heavy under normal conditions but\nextremely responsive to the _repellor_ or anti-gravity rays, such as the\nHans use as \"_legs_\" for their airships.\n\nInertron is the second great triumph of American research and\nexperimentation with ultronic forces. It was developed just a few years\nbefore my awakening in the abandoned mine. It is a synthetic element,\nbuilt up, through a complicated heterodyning of ultronic pulsations,\nfrom \"infra-balanced\" sub-ionic forms. It is completely inert to both\nelectric and magnetic forces in all the orders above the _ultronic_;\nthat is to say, the _sub-electronic_, the _electronic_, the _atomic_ and\nthe _molecular_. In consequence it has a number of amazing and\nvaluable properties. One of these is _the total lack of weight_. Another\nis a total lack of heat. It has no molecular vibration whatever. It\nreflects 100 percent of the heat and light impinging upon it. It does\nnot feel cold to the touch, of course, since it will not absorb the heat\nof the hand. It is a solid, very dense in molecular structure despite\nits lack of weight, of great strength and considerable elasticity. It is\na perfect shield against the disintegrator rays.\n\n[Illustration: Setting his rocket gun for a long-distance shot.]\n\nRocket guns are very simple contrivances so far as the mechanism of\nlaunching the bullet is concerned. They are simple light tubes, closed\nat the rear end, with a trigger-actuated pin for piercing the thin skin\nat the base of the cartridge. This piercing of the skin starts the\nchemical and atomic reaction. The entire cartridge leaves the tube under\nits own power, at a very easy initial velocity, just enough to insure\naccuracy of aim; so the tube does not have to be of heavy construction.\nThe bullet increases in velocity as it goes. It may be solid or\nexplosive. It may explode on contact or on time, or a combination of\nthese two.\n\nBill and I talked mostly of weapons, military tactics and strategy.\nStrangely enough he had no idea whatever of the possibilities of the\nbarrage, though the tremendous effect of a \"curtain of fire\" with such\nhigh-explosive projectiles as these modern rocket guns used was obvious\nto me. But the barrage idea, it seemed, has been lost track of\ncompletely in the air wars that followed the First World War, and in the\npeculiar guerilla tactics developed by Americans in the later period of\noperations from the ground against Han airships, and in the gang wars\nwhich, until a few generations ago I learned, had been almost\ncontinuous.\n\n\"I wonder,\" said Bill one day, \"if we couldn't work up some form of\nbarrage to spring on the Bad Bloods. The Big Boss told me today that\nhe's been in communication with the other gangs, and all are agreed that\nthe Bad Bloods might as well be wiped out for good. That attempt on\nWilma Deering's life and their evident desire to make trouble among the\ngangs, has stirred up every community east of the Alleghenies. The Boss\nsays that none of the others will object if we go after them. So I\nimagine that before long we will. Now show me again how you worked that\nbusiness in the Argonne forest. The conditions ought to be pretty much\nthe same.\"\n\nI went over it with him in detail, and gradually we worked out a\nmodified plan that would be better adapted to our more powerful weapons,\nand the use of jumpers.\n\n\"It will be easy,\" Bill exulted. \"I'll slide down and talk it over with\nthe Boss tomorrow.\"\n\nDuring the first two weeks of my stay with the Wyomings, Wilma Deering\nand I saw a great deal of each other. I naturally felt a little closer\nfriendship for her, in view of the fact that she was the first human\nbeing I saw after waking from my long sleep; her appreciation of my\nsaving her life, though I could not have done otherwise than I did in\nthat matter, and most of all my own appreciation of the fact that she\nhad not found it as difficult as the others to believe my story,\noperated in the same direction. I could easily imagine my story must\nhave sounded incredible.\n\nIt was natural enough too, that she should feel an unusual interest in\nme. In the first place, I was her personal discovery. In the second, she\nwas a girl of studious and reflective turn of mind. She never got tired\nof my stories and descriptions of the 20th Century.\n\nThe others of the community, however, seemed to find our friendship a\nbit amusing. It seemed that Wilma had a reputation for being cold toward\nthe opposite sex, and so others, not being able to appreciate some of\nher fine qualities as I did, misinterpreted her attitude, much to their\nown delight. Wilma and I, however, ignored this as much as we could.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nA Han Air Raid\n\n\nThere was a girl in Wilma's camp named Gerdi Mann, with whom Bill Hearn\nwas desperately in love, and the four of us used to go around a lot\ntogether. Gerdi was a distinct type. Whereas Wilma had the usual dark\nbrown hair and hazel eyes that marked nearly every member of the\ncommunity, Gerdi had red hair, blue eyes and very fair skin. She has\nbeen dead many years now, but I remember her vividly because she was a\nthrowback in physical appearance to a certain 20th Century type which I\nhave found very rare among modern Americans; also because the four of us\nwere engaged one day in a discussion of this very point, when I obtained\nmy first experience of a Han air raid.\n\nWe were sitting high on the side of a hill overlooking the valley that\nteemed with human activity, invisible beneath its blanket of foliage.\n\nThe other three, who knew of the Irish but vaguely and indefinitely, as\na race on the other side of the globe, which, like ourselves, had\nsucceeded in maintaining a precarious and fugitive existence in\nrebellion against the Mongolian domination of the earth, were listening\nwith interest to my theory that Gerdi's ancestors of several hundred\nyears ago must have been Irish. I explained that Gerdi was an Irish\ntype, evidently a throwback, and that her surname might well have been\nMcMann, or McMahan, and still more anciently \"mac Mathghamhain.\" They\nwere interested too in my surmise that \"Gerdi\" was the same name as that\nwhich had been \"Gerty\" or \"Gertrude\" in the 20th Century.\n\nIn the middle of our discussion, we were startled by an alarm rocket\nthat burst high in the air, far to the north, spreading a pall of red\nsmoke that drifted like a cloud. It was followed by others at scattered\npoints in the northern sky.\n\n\"A Han raid!\" Bill exclaimed in amazement. \"The first in seven years!\"\n\n\"Maybe it's just one of their ships off its course,\" I ventured.\n\n\"No,\" said Wilma in some agitation. \"That would be green rockets. Red\nmeans only one thing, Tony. They're sweeping the countryside with their\ndis beams. Can you see anything, Bill?\"\n\n\"We had better get under cover,\" Gerdi said nervously. \"The four of us\nare bunched here in the open. For all we know they may be twelve miles\nup, out of sight, yet looking at us with a projecto'.\"\n\nBill had been sweeping the horizon hastily with his glass, but\napparently saw nothing.\n\n\"We had better scatter, at that,\" he said finally. \"It's orders, you\nknow. See!\" He pointed to the valley.\n\nHere and there a tiny human figure shot for a moment above the foliage\nof the treetops.\n\n\"That's bad,\" Wilma commented, as she counted the jumpers. \"No less than\nfifteen people visible, and all clearly radiating from a central point.\nDo they want to give away our location?\"\n\nThe standard orders covering air raids were that the population was to\nscatter individually. There should be no grouping, or even pairing, in\nview of the destructiveness of the disintegrator rays. Experience of\ngenerations had proved that if this were done, and everybody remained\nhidden beneath the tree screens, the Hans would have to sweep mile after\nmile of territory, foot by foot, to catch more than a small percentage\nof the community.\n\nGerdi, however, refused to leave Bill, and Wilma developed an equal\nobstinacy against quitting my side. I was inexperienced at this sort of\nthing, she explained, quite ignoring the fact that she was too; she was\nonly thirteen or fourteen years old at the time of the last air raid.\n\nHowever, since I could not argue her out of it, we leaped together about\na quarter of a mile to the right, while Bill and Gerdi disappeared down\nthe hillside among the trees.\n\nWilma and I both wanted a point of vantage from which we might overlook\nthe valley and the sky to the north, and we found it near the top of the\nridge, where, protected from visibility by thick branches, we could look\nout between the tree trunks, and get a good view of the valley.\n\nNo more rockets went up. Except for a few of those warning red clouds,\ndrifting lazily in a blue sky, there was no visible indication of man's\npast or present existence anywhere in the sky or on the ground.\n\nThen Wilma gripped my arm and pointed. I saw it; away off in the\ndistance; looking like a phantom dirigible airship, in its coat of\nlow-visibility paint, a bare spectre.\n\n\"Seven thousand feet up,\" Wilma whispered, crouching close to me.\n\"Watch.\"\n\nThe ship was about the same shape as the great dirigibles of the 20th\nCentury that I had seen, but without the suspended control car, engines,\npropellors, rudders or elevating planes. As it loomed rapidly nearer, I\nsaw that it was wider and somewhat flatter than I had supposed.\n\nNow I could see the repellor rays that held the ship aloft, like\nsearchlight beams faintly visible in the bright daylight (and still\nfaintly visible to the human eye at night). Actually, I had been\ninformed by my instructors, there were two rays; the visible one\ngenerated by the ship's apparatus, and directed toward the ground as a\nbeam of \"carrier\" impulses; and the true repellor ray, the complement of\nthe other in one sense, induced by the action of the \"carrier\" and\nreacting in a concentrating upward direction from the mass of the earth,\nbecoming successively electronic, atomic and finally molecular, in its\nnature, according to various ratios of distance between earth mass and\n\"carrier\" source, until, in the last analysis, the ship itself actually\nis supported on an upward rushing column of air, much like a ball\ncontinuously supported on a fountain jet.\n\nThe raider neared with incredible speed. Its rays were both slanted\nastern at a sharp angle, so that it slid forward with tremendous\nmomentum.\n\nThe ship was operating two disintegrator rays, though only in a casual,\nintermittent fashion. But whenever they flashed downward with blinding\nbrilliancy, forest, rocks and ground melted instantaneously into\nnothing, where they played upon them.\n\nWhen later I inspected the scars left by these rays I found them some\nfive feet deep and thirty feet wide, the exposed surfaces being\nlava-like in texture, but of a pale, iridescent, greenish hue.\n\nNo systematic use of the rays was made by the ship, however, until it\nreached a point over the center of the valley--the center of the\ncommunity's activities. There it came to a sudden stop by shooting its\nrepellor beams sharply forward and easing them back gradually to the\nvertical, holding the ship floating and motionless. Then the work of\ndestruction began systematically.\n\nBack and forth traveled the destroying rays, ploughing parallel furrows\nfrom hillside to hillside. We gasped in dismay, Wilma and I, as time\nafter time we saw it plough through sections where we knew camps or\nplants were located.\n\n\"This is awful,\" she moaned, a terrified question in her eyes. \"How\ncould they know the location so exactly, Tony? Did you see? They were\nnever in doubt. They stalled at a predetermined spot--and--and it was\nexactly the right spot.\"\n\nWe did not talk of what might happen if the rays were turned in our\ndirection. We both knew. We would simply disintegrate in a split second\ninto mere scattered electronic vibrations. Strangely enough, it was this\nself-reliant girl of the 25th Century, who clung to me, a relatively\nprimitive man of the 20th, less familiar than she with the thought of\nthis terrifying possibility, for moral support.\n\nWe knew that many of our companions must have been whisked into absolute\nnon-existence before our eyes in these few moments. The whole thing\nparalyzed us into mental and physical immobility for I do not know how\nlong.\n\nIt couldn't have been long, however, for the rays had not ploughed more\nthan thirty of their twenty-foot furrows or so across the valley, when I\nregained control of myself, and brought Wilma to herself by shaking her\nroughly.\n\n\"How far will this rocket gun shoot, Wilma?\" I demanded, drawing my\npistol.\n\n\"It depends on your rocket, Tony. It will take even the longest range\nrocket, but you could shoot more accurately from a longer tube. But why?\nYou couldn't penetrate the shell of that ship with rocket force, even if\nyou could reach it.\"\n\nI fumbled clumsily with my rocket pouch, for I was excited. I had an\nidea I wanted to try; a \"hunch\" I called it, forgetting that Wilma could\nnot understand my ancient slang. But finally, with her help, I selected\nthe longest range explosive rocket in my pouch, and fitted it to my\npistol.\n\n\"It won't carry seven thousand feet, Tony,\" Wilma objected. But I took\naim carefully. It was another thought that I had in my mind. The\nsupporting repellor ray, I had been told, became molecular in character\nat what was called a logarithmic level of five (below that it was a\npurely electronic \"flow\" or pulsation between the source of the\n\"carrier\" and the average mass of the earth). Below that level if I\ncould project my explosive bullet into this stream where it began to\ncarry material substance upward, might it not rise with the air column,\ngathering speed and hitting the ship with enough impact to carry it\nthrough the shell? It was worth trying anyhow. Wilma became greatly\nexcited, too, when she grasped the nature of my inspiration.\n\nFeverishly I looked around for some formation of branches against which\nI could rest the pistol, for I had to aim most carefully. At last I\nfound one. Patiently I sighted on the hulk of the ship far above us,\naiming at the far side of it, at such an angle as would, so far as I\ncould estimate, bring my bullet path through the forward repellor beam.\nAt last the sights wavered across the point I sought and I pressed the\nbutton gently.\n\nFor a moment we gazed breathlessly.\n\nSuddenly the ship swung bow down, as on a pivot, and swayed like a\npendulum. Wilma screamed in her excitement.\n\n\"Oh, Tony, you hit it! You hit it! Do it again; bring it down!\"\n\nWe had only one more rocket of extreme range between us, and we dropped\nit three times in our excitement in inserting it in my gun. Then,\nforcing myself to be calm by sheer will power, while Wilma stuffed her\nlittle fist into her mouth to keep from shrieking, I sighted carefully\nagain and fired. In a flash, Wilma had grasped the hope that this\ndiscovery of mine might lead to the end of the Han domination.\n\nThe elapsed time of the rocket's invisible flight seemed an age.\n\nThen we saw the ship falling. It seemed to plunge lazily, but actually\nit fell with terrific acceleration, turning end over end, its\ndisintegrator rays, out of control, describing vast, wild arcs, and once\ncutting a gash through the forest less than two hundred feet from where\nwe stood.\n\nThe crash with which the heavy craft hit the ground reverberated from\nthe hills--the momentum of eighteen or twenty thousand tons, in a sheer\ndrop of seven thousand feet. A mangled mass of metal, it buried itself\nin the ground, with poetic justice, in the middle of the smoking,\nsemi-molten field of destruction it had been so deliberately ploughing.\n\nThe silence, the vacuity of the landscape, was oppressive, as the last\nechoes died away.\n\nThen far down the hillside, a single figure leaped exultantly above the\nfoliage screen. And in the distance another, and another.\n\nIn a moment the sky was punctured by signal rockets. One after another\nthe little red puffs became drifting clouds.\n\n\"Scatter! Scatter!\" Wilma exclaimed. \"In half an hour there'll be an\nentire Han fleet here from Nu-yok, and another from Bah-flo. They'll get\nthis instantly on their recordographs and location finders. They'll\nblast the whole valley and the country for miles beyond. Come, Tony.\nThere's no time for the gang to rally. See the signals. We've got to\njump. Oh, I'm so proud of you!\"\n\nOver the ridge we went, in long leaps toward the east, the country of\nthe Delawares.\n\nFrom time to time signal rockets puffed in the sky. Most of them were\nthe \"red warnings,\" the \"scatter\" signals. But from certain of the\nothers, which Wilma identified as Wyoming rockets, she gathered that\nwhoever was in command (we did not know whether the Boss was alive or\nnot) was ordering an ultimate rally toward the south, and so we changed\nour course.\n\nIt was a great pity, I thought, that the clan had not been equipped\nthroughout its membership with ultrophones, but Wilma explained to me,\nthat not enough of these had been built for distribution as yet,\nalthough general distribution had been contemplated within a couple of\nmonths.\n\nWe traveled far before nightfall overtook us, trying only to put as much\ndistance as possible between ourselves and the valley.\n\nWhen gathering dusk made jumping too dangerous, we sought a comfortable\nspot beneath the trees, and consumed part of our emergency rations. It\nwas the first time I had tasted the stuff--a highly nutritive synthetic\nsubstance called \"concentro,\" which was, however, a bit bitter and\nunpalatable. But as only a mouthful or so was needed, it did not matter.\n\nNeither of us had a cloak, but we were both thoroughly tired and happy,\nso we curled up together for warmth. I remember Wilma making some sleepy\nremark about our mating, as she cuddled up, as though the matter were\nall settled, and my surprise at my own instant acceptance of the idea,\nfor I had not consciously thought of her that way before. But we both\nfell asleep at once.\n\nIn the morning we found little time for love making. The practical\nproblem facing us was too great. Wilma felt that the Wyoming plan must\nbe to rally in the Susquanna territory, but she had her doubts about the\nwisdom of this plan. In my elation at my success in bringing down the\nHan ship, and my newly found interest in my charming companion, who was,\nfrom my viewpoint of another century, at once more highly civilized and\nyet more primitive than myself, I had forgotten the ominous fact that\nthe Han ship I had destroyed must have known the exact location of the\nWyoming Works.\n\nThis meant, to Wilma's logical mind, either that the Hans had perfected\nnew instruments as yet unknown to us, or that somewhere, among the\nWyomings or some other nearby gang, there were traitors so degraded as\nto commit that unthinkable act of trafficking in information with the\nHans. In either contingency, she argued, other Han raids would follow,\nand since the Susquannas had a highly developed organization and more\nthan usually productive plants, the next raid might be expected to\nstrike them.\n\nBut at any rate it was clearly our business to get in touch with the\nother fugitives as quickly as possible, so in spite of muscles that were\nsore from the excessive leaping of the day before, we continued on our\nway.\n\nWe traveled for only a couple of hours when we saw a multi-colored\nrocket in the sky, some ten miles ahead of us.\n\n\"Bear to the left, Tony,\" Wilma said, \"and listen for the whistle.\"\n\n\"Why?\" I asked.\n\n\"Haven't they given you the rocket code yet?\" she replied. \"That's what\nthe green, followed by yellow and purple means; to concentrate five\nmiles east of the rocket position. You know the rocket position itself\nmight draw a play of disintegrator beams.\"\n\nIt did not take us long to reach the neighborhood of the indicated\nrallying, though we were now traveling beneath the trees, with but an\noccasional leap to a top branch to see if any more rocket smoke was\nfloating above. And soon we heard a distant whistle.\n\nWe found about half the Gang already there, in a spot where the trees\nmet high above a little stream. The Big Boss and Raid Bosses were busy\nreorganizing the remnants.\n\nWe reported to Boss Hart at once. He was silent, but interested, when he\nheard our story.\n\n\"You two stick close to me,\" he said, adding grimly, \"I'm going back to\nthe valley at once with a hundred picked men, and I'll need you.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nSetting the Trap\n\n\nInside of fifteen minutes we were on our way. A certain amount of\ncaution was sacrificed for the sake of speed, and the men leaped away\neither across the forest top, or over open spaces of ground, but\nconcentration was forbidden. The Big Boss named the spot on the hillside\nas the rallying point.\n\n\"We'll have to take a chance on being seen, so long as we don't group,\"\nhe declared, \"at least until within five miles of the rallying spot.\nFrom then on I want every man to disappear from sight and to travel\nunder cover. And keep your ultrophones open, and tuned on\nten-four-seven-six.\"\n\nWilma and I had received our battle equipment from the Gear boss. It\nconsisted of a long-gun, a hand-gun, with a special case of ammunition\nconstructed of inertron, which made the load weigh but a few ounces, and\na short sword. This gear we strapped over each other's shoulders, on top\nof our jumping belts. In addition, we each received an ultrophone, and a\nlight inertron blanket rolled into a cylinder about six inches long by\ntwo or three in diameter. This fabric was exceedingly thin and light,\nbut it had considerable warmth, because of the mixture of inertron in\nits composition.\n\n[Illustration: The Han raider neared with incredible speed. Its rays\nwere both slanted astern at a sharp angle, so that it slid forward with\ntremendous momentum.... Whenever the disintegrator rays flashed downward\nwith blinding brilliancy, forest, rocks and ground melted\ninstantaneously into nothing, where they played upon them.]\n\n\"This looks like business,\" Wilma remarked to me with sparkling eyes.\n(And I might mention a curious thing here. The word \"business\" had\nsurvived from the 20th Century American vocabulary, but not with any\nmeaning of \"industry\" or \"trade,\" for such things being purely community\nactivities were spoken of as \"work\" and \"clearing.\" Business simply\nmeant fighting, and that was all.)\n\n\"Did you bring all this equipment from the valley?\" I asked the Gear\nBoss.\n\n\"No,\" he said. \"There was no time to gather anything. All this stuff we\ncleared from the Susquannas a few hours ago. I was with the Boss on the\nway down, and he had me jump on ahead and arrange it. But you two had\nbetter be moving. He's beckoning you now.\"\n\nHart was about to call us on our phones when we looked up. As soon as we\ndid so, he leaped away, waving us to follow closely.\n\nHe was a powerful man, and he darted ahead in long, swift, low leaps up\nthe banks of the stream, which followed a fairly straight course at this\npoint. By extending ourselves, however, Wilma and I were able to catch\nup to him.\n\nAs we gradually synchronized our leaps with his, he outlined to us,\nbetween the grunts that accompanied each leap, his plan of action.\n\n\"We have to start the big business--unh--sooner or later,\" he said.\n\"And if--unh--the Hans have found any way of locating our\npositions--unh--it's time to start now, although the Council of\nBosses--unh--had intended waiting a few years until enough rocket ships\nhave been--unh--built. But no matter what the sacrifice--unh--we can't\nafford to let them get us on the run--unh--. We'll set a trap for the\nyellow devils in the--unh--valley if they come back for their\nwreckage--unh--and if they don't, we'll go rocketing for some of their\nliners--unh--on the Nu-yok, Clee-lan, Si-ka-ga course. We can\nuse--unh--that idea of yours of shooting up the repellor--unh--beams.\nWant you to give us a demonstration.\"\n\nWith further admonition to follow him closely, he increased his pace,\nand Wilma and I were taxed to our utmost to keep up with him. It was\nonly in ascending the slopes that my tougher muscles overbalanced his\ngreater skill, and I was able to set the pace for him, as I had for\nWilma.\n\nWe slept in greater comfort that night, under our inertron blankets, and\nwere off with the dawn, leaping cautiously to the top of the ridge\noverlooking the valley which Wilma and I had left.\n\nThe Boss scanned the sky with his ultroscope, patiently taking some\nfifteen minutes to the task, and then swung his phone into use, calling\nthe roll and giving the men their instructions.\n\nHis first order was for us all to slip our ear and chest discs into\npermanent position.\n\nThese ultrophones were quite different from the one used by Wilma's\ncompanion scout the day I saved her from the vicious attack of the\nbandit Gang. That one was contained entirely in a small pocket case.\nThese, with which we were now equipped, consisted of a pair of ear\ndiscs, each a separate and self-contained receiving set. They slipped\ninto little pockets over our ears in the fabric helmets we wore, and\nshut out virtually all extraneous sounds. The chest discs were likewise\nself-contained sending sets, strapped to the chest a few inches below\nthe neck and actuated by the vibrations from the vocal cords through the\nbody tissues. The total range of these sets was about eighteen miles.\nReception was remarkably clear, quite free from the static that so\nmarked the 20th Century radios, and of a strength in direct proportion\nto the distance of the speaker.\n\nThe Boss' set was triple powered, so that his orders would cut in on any\nlocal conversations, which were indulged in, however, with great\nrestraint, and only for the purpose of maintaining contacts.\n\nI marveled at the efficiency of this modern method of battle\ncommunication in contrast to the clumsy signaling devices of more\nancient times; and also at other military contrasts in which the 20th\nand 25th Century methods were the reverse of each other in efficiency.\nThese modern Americans, for instance, knew little of hand to hand\nfighting, and nothing, naturally, of trench warfare. Of barrages they\nwere quite ignorant, although they possessed weapons of terrific power.\nAnd until my recent flash of inspiration, no one among them, apparently,\nhad ever thought of the scheme of shooting a rocket into a repellor beam\nand letting the beam itself hurl it upward into the most vital part of\nthe Han ship.\n\nHart patiently placed his men, first giving his instructions to the\ncampmasters, and then remaining silent, while they placed the\nindividuals.\n\nIn the end, the hundred men were ringed about the valley, on the\nhillsides and tops, each in a position from which he had a good view of\nthe wreckage of the Han ship. But not a man had come in view, so far as\nI could see, in the whole process.\n\nThe Boss explained to me that it was his idea that he, Wilma and I\nshould investigate the wreck. If Han ships should appear in the sky, we\nwould leap for the hillsides.\n\nI suggested to him to have the men set up their long-guns trained on an\nimaginary circle surrounding the wreck. He busied himself with this\nafter the three of us leaped down to the Han ship, serving as a target\nhimself, while he called on the men individually to aim their pieces and\nlock them in position.\n\nIn the meantime Wilma and I climbed into the wreckage, but did not find\nmuch. Practically all of the instruments and machinery had been twisted\nout of all recognizable shape, or utterly destroyed by the ship's\ndisintegrator rays which apparently had continued to operate in the\nmidst of its warped remains for some moments after the crash.\n\nIt was unpleasant work searching the mangled bodies of the crew. But it\nhad to be done. The Han clothing, I observed, was quite different from\nthat of the Americans, and in many respects more like the garb to which\nI had been accustomed in the earlier part of my life. It was made of\nsynthetic fabrics like silks, loose and comfortable trousers of knee\nlength, and sleeveless shirts.\n\nNo protection, except that against drafts, was needed, Wilma explained\nto me, for the Han cities were entirely enclosed, with splendid\narrangements for ventilation and heating. These arrangements of course\nwere equally adequate in their airships. The Hans, indeed, had quite a\ndistaste for unshaded daylight, since their lighting apparatus diffused\na controlled amount of violet rays, making the unmodified sunlight\nunnecessary for health, and undesirable for comfort. Since the Hans did\nnot have the secret of inertron, none of them wore anti-gravity belts.\nYet in spite of the fact that they had to bear their own full weights at\nall times, they were physically far inferior to the Americans, for they\nlived lives of degenerative physical inertia, having machinery of every\ndescription for the performance of all labor, and convenient conveyances\nfor any movement of more than a few steps.\n\nEven from the twisted wreckage of this ship I could see that seats,\nchairs and couches played an extremely important part in their scheme of\nexistence.\n\nBut none of the bodies were overweight. They seemed to have been the\nbodies of men in good health, but muscularly much underdeveloped. Wilma\nexplained to me that they had mastered the science of gland control, and\nof course dietetics, to the point where men and women among them not\nuncommonly reached the age of a hundred years with arteries and general\nhealth in splendid condition.\n\nI did not have time to study the ship and its contents as carefully as I\nwould have liked, however. Time pressed, and it was our business to\ndiscover some clue to the deadly accuracy with which the ship had\nspotted the Wyoming Works.\n\nThe Boss had hardly finished his arrangements for the ring barrage, when\none of the scouts on an eminence to the north, announced the approach of\nseven Han ships, spread out in a great semi-circle.\n\nHart leaped for the hillside, calling to us to do likewise, but Wilma\nand I had raised the flaps of our helmets and switched off our\n\"speakers\" for conversation between ourselves, and by the time we\ndiscovered what had happened, the ships were clearly visible, so fast\nwere they approaching.\n\n\"Jump!\" we heard the Boss order, \"Deering to the north. Rogers to the\neast.\"\n\nBut Wilma looked at me meaningly and pointed to where the twisted plates\nof the ship, projecting from the ground, offered a shelter.\n\n\"Too late, Boss,\" she said. \"They'd see us. Besides I think there's\nsomething here we ought to look at. It's probably their magnetic graph.\"\n\n\"You're signing your death warrant,\" Hart warned.\n\n\"We'll risk it,\" said Wilma and I together.\n\n\"Good for you,\" replied the Boss. \"Take command then, Rogers, for the\npresent. Do you all know his voice, boys?\"\n\nA chorus of assent rang in our ears, and I began to do some fast\nthinking as the girl and I ducked into the twisted mass of metal.\n\n\"Wilma, hunt for that record,\" I said, knowing that by the simple\nprocess of talking I could keep the entire command continuously informed\nas to the situation. \"On the hillsides, keep your guns trained on the\ncircles and stand by. On the hilltops, how many of you are there? Speak\nin rotation from Bald Knob around to the east, north, west.\"\n\nIn turn the men called their names. There were twenty of them.\n\nI assigned them by name to cover the various Han ships, numbering the\nlatter from left to right.\n\n\"Train your rockets on their repellor rays about three-quarters of the\nway up, between ships and ground. Aim is more important than elevation.\nFollow those rays with your aim continuously. Shoot when I tell you, not\nbefore. Deering has the record. The Hans probably have not seen us, or\nat least think there are but two of us in the valley, since they're\nsettling without opening up disintegrators. Any opinions?\"\n\nMy ear discs remained silent.\n\n\"Deering and I remain here until they land and debark. Stand by and keep\nalert.\"\n\nRapidly and easily the largest of the Han ships settled to the earth.\nThree scouted sharply to the south, rising to a higher level. The others\nfloated motionless about a thousand feet above.\n\nPeeping through a small fissure between two plates, I saw the vast hulk\nof the ship come to rest full on the line of our prospective ring\nbarrage. A door clanged open a couple of feet from the ground, and one\nby one the crew emerged.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\nThe \"Wyoming Massacre\"\n\n\n\"They're coming out of the ship.\" I spoke quietly, with my hand over\nmy mouth, for fear they might hear me. \"One--two--three--four,\nfive--six--seven--eight--nine. That seems to be all. Who knows how\nmany men a ship like that is likely to carry?\"\n\n\"About ten, if there are no passengers,\" replied one of my men, probably\none of those on the hillside.\n\n\"How are they armed?\" I asked.\n\n\"Just knives,\" came the reply. \"They never permit hand-rays on the\nships. Afraid of accidents. Have a ruling against it.\"\n\n\"Leave them to us then,\" I said, for I had a hastily formed plan in my\nmind. \"You, on the hillsides, take the ships above. Abandon the ring\ntarget. Divide up in training on those repellor rays. You, on the\nhilltops, all train on the repellors of the ships to the south. Shoot at\nthe word, but not before.\n\n\"Wilma, crawl over to your left where you can make a straight leap for\nthe door in that ship. These men are all walking around the wreck in a\nbunch. When they're on the far side, I'll give the word and you leap\nthrough that door in one bound. I'll follow. Maybe we won't be seen.\nWe'll overpower the guard inside, but don't shoot. We may escape being\nseen by both this crew and ships above. They can't see over this wreck.\"\n\nIt was so easy that it seemed too good to be true. The Hans who had\nemerged from the ship walked round the wreckage lazily, talking in\nguttural tones, keenly interested in the wreck, but quite unsuspicious.\n\nAt last they were on the far side. In a moment they would be picking\ntheir way into the wreck.\n\n\"Wilma, leap!\" I almost whispered the order.\n\nThe distance between Wilma's hiding place and the door in the side of\nthe Han ship was not more than fifteen feet. She was already crouched\nwith her feet braced against a metal beam. Taking the lift of that\nwonderful inertron belt into her calculation, she dove headforemost,\nlike a green projectile, through the door. I followed in a split second,\nmore clumsily, but no less speedily, bruising my shoulder painfully, as\nI ricocheted from the edge of the opening and brought up sliding against\nthe unconscious girl; for she evidently had hit her head against the\npartition within the ship into which she had crashed.\n\nWe had made some noise within the ship. Shuffling footsteps were\napproaching down a well lit gangway.\n\n\"Any signs we have been observed?\" I asked my men on the hillsides.\n\n\"Not yet,\" I heard the Boss reply. \"Ships overhead still standing. No\nbeams have been broken out. Men on ground absorbed in wreck. Most of\nthem have crawled into it out of sight.\"\n\n\"Good,\" I said quickly. \"Deering hit her head. Knocked out. One or more\nmembers of the crew approaching. We're not discovered yet. I'll take\ncare of them. Stand a bit longer, but be ready.\"\n\nI think my last words must have been heard by the man who was\napproaching, for he stopped suddenly.\n\nI crouched at the far side of the compartment, motionless. I would not\ndraw my sword if there were only one of them. He would be a weakling, I\nfigured, and I should easily overcome him with my bare hands.\n\nApparently reassured at the absence of any further sound, a man came\naround a sort of bulkhead--and I leaped.\n\nI swung my legs up in front of me as I did so, catching him full in the\nstomach and knocked him cold.\n\nI ran forward along the keel gangway, searching for the control room. I\nfound it well up in the nose of the ship. And it was deserted. What\ncould I do to jam the controls of the ships that would not register on\nthe recording instruments of the other ships? I gazed at the mass of\ncontrols. Levers and wheels galore. In the center of the compartment, on\na massively braced universal joint mounting, was what I took for the\nrepellor generator. A dial on it glowed and a faint hum came from within\nits shielding metallic case. But I had no time to study it.\n\nAbove all else, I was afraid that some automatic telephone apparatus\nexisted in the room, through which I might be heard on the other ships.\nThe risk of trying to jam the controls was too great. I abandoned the\nidea and withdrew softly. I would have to take a chance that there was\nno other member of the crew aboard.\n\nI ran back to the entrance compartment. Wilma still lay where she had\nslumped down. I heard the voices of the Hans approaching. It was time to\nact. The next few seconds would tell whether the ships in the air would\ntry or be able to melt us into nothingness. I spoke.\n\n\"Are you boys all ready?\" I asked, creeping to a position opposite the\ndoor and drawing my hand-gun.\n\nAgain there was a chorus of assent.\n\n\"Then on the count of three, shoot up those repellor rays--all of\nthem--and for God's sake, don't miss.\" And I counted.\n\nI think my \"three\" was a bit weak. I know it took all the courage I had\nto utter it.\n\nFor an agonizing instant nothing happened, except that the landing party\nfrom the ship strolled into my range of vision.\n\nThen startled, they turned their eyes upward. For an instant they stood\nfrozen with horror at whatever they saw.\n\nOne hurled his knife at me. It grazed my cheek. Then a couple of them\nmade a break for the doorway. The rest followed. But I fired pointblank\nwith my hand-gun, pressing the button as fast as I could and aiming at\ntheir feet to make sure my explosive rockets would make contact and do\ntheir work.\n\nThe detonations of my rockets were deafening. The spot on which the Hans\nstood flashed into a blinding glare. Then there was nothing there except\ntheir torn and mutilated corpses. They had been fairly bunched, and I\ngot them all.\n\nI ran to the door, expecting any instant to be hurled into infinity by\nthe sweep of a disintegrator ray.\n\nSome eighth of a mile away I saw one of the ships crash to earth. A\ndisintegrator ray came into my line of vision, wavered uncertainly for a\nmoment and then began to sweep directly toward the ship in which I\nstood. But it never reached it. Suddenly, like a light switched off, it\nshot to one side, and a moment later another vast hulk crashed to earth.\nI looked out, then stepped out on the ground.\n\nThe only Han ships in the sky were two of the scouts to the south which\nwere hanging perpendicularly, and sagging slowly down. The others must\nhave crashed down while I was deafened by the sound of the explosion of\nmy own rockets.\n\nSomebody hit the other repellor ray of one of the two remaining ships\nand it fell out of sight beyond a hilltop. The other, farther away,\ndrifted down diagonally, its disintegrator ray playing viciously over\nthe ground below it.\n\nI shouted with exultation and relief.\n\n\"Take back the command, Boss!\" I yelled.\n\nHis commands, sending out jumpers in pursuit of the descending ship,\nrang in my ears, but I paid no attention to them. I leaped back into the\ncompartment of the Han ship and knelt beside my Wilma. Her padded helmet\nhad absorbed much of the blow, I thought; otherwise, her skull might\nhave been fractured.\n\n\"Oh, my head!\" she groaned, coming to as I lifted her gently in my arms\nand strode out in the open with her. \"We must have won, dearest, did\nwe?\"\n\n\"We most certainly did,\" I reassured her. \"All but one crashed and that\none is drifting down toward the south; we've captured this one we're in\nintact. There was only one member of the crew aboard when we dove in.\"\n\n[Illustration: As the American leaped, he swung his legs up in front of\nhim, catching the Han full in the stomach.]\n\nLess than an hour afterward the Big Boss ordered the outfit to tune in\nultrophones on three-twenty-three to pick up a translated broadcast of\nthe Han intelligence office in Nu-yok from the Susquanna station. It\nwas in the form of a public warning and news item, and read as follows:\n\n\"This is Public Intelligence Office, Nu-yok, broadcasting warning to\nnavigators of private ships, and news of public interest. The squadron\nof seven ships, which left Nu-yok this morning to investigate the recent\ndestruction of the GK-984 in the Wyoming Valley, has been destroyed by a\nseries of mysterious explosions similar to those which wrecked the\nGK-984.\n\n\"The phones, viewplates, and all other signaling devices of five of the\nseven ships ceased operating suddenly at approximately the same moment,\nabout seven-four-nine.\" (According to the Han system of reckoning time,\nseven and forty-nine one hundredths after midnight.) \"After violent\ndisturbances the location finders went out of operation. Electroactivity\nregisters applied to the territory of the Wyoming Valley remain dead.\n\n\"The Intelligence Office has no indication of the kind of disaster which\novertook the squadron except certain evidences of explosive phenomena\nsimilar to those in the case of the GK-984, which recently went dead\nwhile beaming the valley in a systematic effort to wipe out the works\nand camps of the tribesmen. The Office considers, as obvious, the\ndeduction that the tribesmen have developed a new, and as yet\nundetermined, technique of attack on airships, and has recommended to\nthe Heaven-Born that immediate and unlimited authority be given the\nNavigation Intelligence Division to make an investigation of this\ntechnique and develop a defense against it.\n\n\"In the meantime it urges that private navigators avoid this territory\nin particular, and in general hold as closely as possible to the\nofficial inter-city routes, which now are being patrolled by the entire\nforce of the Military Office, which is beaming the routes generously to\na width of ten miles. The Military Office reports that it is at present\nconsidering no retaliatory raids against the tribesmen. With the\nNavigation Intelligence Division, it holds that unless further evidence\nof the nature of the disaster is developed in the near future, the\npublic interest will be better served, and at smaller cost of life, by a\nscientific research than by attempts at retaliation, which may bring\ndestruction on all ships engaging therein. So unless further evidence\nactually is developed, or the Heaven-Born orders to the contrary, the\nMilitary will hold to a defensive policy.\n\n\"Unofficial intimations from Lo-Tan are to the effect that the\nHeaven-Council has the matter under consideration.\n\n\"The Navigation Intelligence Office permits the broadcast of the\nfollowing condensation of its detailed observations:\n\n\"The squadron proceeded to a position above the Wyoming Valley where\nthe wreck of the GK-984 was known to be, from the record of its location\nfinder before it went dead recently. There the bottom projectoscope\nrelays of all ships registered the wreck of the GK-984. Teleprojectoscope\nviews of the wreck and the bowl of the valley showed no evidence of the\npresence of tribesmen. Neither ship registers nor base registers showed\nany indication of electroactivity except from the squadron itself. On\norders from the Base Squadron Commander, the LD-248, LK-745 and LG-25\nscouted southward at 3,000 feet. The GK-43, GK-981 and GK-220 stood\nabove at 2,500 feet, and the GK-18 landed to permit personal inspection\nof the wreck by the science committee. The party debarked, leaving one\nman on board in the control cabin. He set all projectoscopes at\nuniversal focus except RB-3,\" (this meant the third projectoscope from\nthe bow of the ship, on the right-hand side of the lower deck) \"with\nwhich he followed the landing group as it walked around the wreck.\n\n\"The first abnormal phenomenon recorded by any of the instruments at\nBase was that relayed automatically from projectoscope RB-4 of the\nGK-18, which as the party disappeared from view in back of the wreck,\nrecorded two green missiles of roughly cylindrical shape, projected from\nthe wreckage into the landing compartment of the ship. At such close\nrange these were not clearly defined, owing to the universal focus at\nwhich the projectoscope was set. The Base Captain of GK-18 at once\nordered the man in the control room to investigate, and saw him leave\nthe control room in compliance with this order. An instant later\nconfused sounds reached the control-room electrophone, such as might be\nmade by a man falling heavily, and footsteps reapproached the control\nroom, a figure entering and leaving the control room hurriedly. The Base\nCaptain now believes, and the stills of the photorecord support his\nbelief, that this was not the crew member who had been left in the\ncontrol room. Before the Base Captain could speak to him he left the\nroom, nor was any response given to the attention signal the Captain\nflashed throughout the ship.\n\n\"At this point projectoscope RB-3 of the ship now out of focus control,\ndimly showed the landing party walking back toward the ship. RB-4 showed\nit more clearly. Then on both these instruments, a number of blinding\nexplosives in rapid succession were seen and the electrophone relays\nregistered terrific concussions; the ship's electronic apparatus and\nprojectoscopes apparatus went dead.\n\n\"Reports of the other ships' Base Observers and Executives, backed by\nthe photorecords, show the explosions as taking place in the midst of\nthe landing party as it returned, evidently unsuspicious, to the ship.\nThen in rapid succession they indicate that terrific explosions occurred\ninside and outside the three ships standing above close to their rep-ray\ngenerators, and all signals from these ships thereupon went dead.\n\n\"Of the three ships scouting to the south, the LD-248 suffered an\nidentical fate, at the same moment. Its records add little to the\nknowledge of the disaster. But with the LK-745 and the LG-25 it was\ndifferent.\n\n\"The relay instruments of the LK-745 indicated the destruction by an\nexplosion of the rear rep-ray generator, and that the ship hung stern\ndown for a short space, swinging like a pendulum. The forward viewplates\nand indicators did not cease functioning, but their records are chaotic,\nexcept for one projectoscope still, which shows the bowl of the valley,\nand the GK-981 falling, but no visible evidence of tribesmen. The\ncontrol-room viewplate is also a chaotic record of the ship's crew\ntumbling and falling to the rear wall. Then the forward rep-ray\ngenerator exploded, and all signals went dead.\n\n\"The fate of the LG-25 was somewhat similar, except that this ship hung\nnose down, and drifted on the wind southward as it slowly descended out\nof control.\n\n\"As its control room was shattered, verbal report from its Action\nCaptain was precluded. The record of the interior rear viewplate shows\nmembers of the crew climbing toward the rear rep-ray generator in an\nattempt to establish manual control of it, and increase the lift. The\nprojectoscope relays, swinging in wide arcs, recorded little of value\nexcept at the ends of their swings. One of these, from a machine which\nhappened to be set in telescopic focus, shows several views of great\nvalue in picturing the falls of the other ships, and all of the rear\nprojectoscope records enable the reconstruction in detail of the\npendulum and torsional movements of the ship, and its sag toward the\nearth. But none of the views showing the forest below contain any\nindication of tribesmen's presence. A final explosion put this ship out\nof commission at a height of 1,000 feet, and at a point four miles S. by\nE. of the center of the valley.\"\n\nThe message ended with a repetition of the warning to other airmen to\navoid the valley.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\nIncredible Treason\n\n\nAfter receiving this report, and reassurances of support from the Big\nBosses of the neighboring Gangs, Hart determined to reestablish the\nWyoming Valley community.\n\nA careful survey of the territory showed that it was only the northern\nsections and slopes that had been \"beamed\" by the first Han ship.\n\nThe synthetic-fabrics plant had been partially wiped out, though the\nlower levels underground had not been reached by the dis ray. The forest\nscreen above it, however, had been annihilated, and it was determined to\nabandon it, after removing all usable machinery and evidences of the\nprocesses that might be of interest to the Han scientists, should they\nreturn to the valley in the future.\n\nThe ammunition plant, and the rocket-ship plant, which had just been\nabout to start operation at the time of the raid, were intact, as were\nthe other important plants.\n\nHart brought the Camboss up from the Susquanna Works, and laid out new\ncamp locations, scattering them farther to the south, and avoiding\nground which had been seared by the Han beams and the immediate\nlocations of the Han wrecks.\n\nDuring this period, a sharp check was kept upon Han messages, for the\nphone plant had been one of the first to be put in operation, and when\nit became evident that the Hans did not intend any immediate reprisals,\nthe entire membership of the community was summoned back, and normal\nlife was resumed.\n\nWilma and I had been married the day after the destruction of the ships,\nand spent this intervening period in a delightful honeymoon, camping\nhigh in the mountains. On our return, we had a camp of our own, of\ncourse. We were assigned to location 1017. And as might be expected, we\nhad a great deal of banter over which one of us was Camp Boss. The title\nstood after my name on the Big Boss' records, and those of the Big\nCamboss, of course, but Wilma airily held that this meant nothing at\nall--and generally succeeded in making me admit it whenever she chose.\n\nI found myself a full-fledged member of the Gang now, for I had elected\nto search no farther for a permanent alliance, much as I would have\nliked to familiarize myself with this 25th Century life in other\nsections of the country. The Wyomings had a high morale, and had\nprospered under the rule of Big Boss Hart for many years. But many of\nthe gangs, I found, were badly organized, lacked strong hands in\nauthority, and were rife with intrigue. On the whole, I thought I would\nbe wise to stay with a group which had already proved its friendliness,\nand in which I seemed to have prospects of advancement. Under these\nmodern social and economic conditions, the kind of individual freedom to\nwhich I had been accustomed in the 20th Century was impossible. I would\nhave been as much of a nonentity in every phase of human relationship by\nattempting to avoid alliances, as any man of the 20th Century would have\nbeen politically, who aligned himself with no political party.\n\nThis entire modern life, it appeared to me, judging from my ancient\nviewpoint, was organized along what I called \"political\" lines. And in\nthis connection, it amused me to notice how universal had become the use\nof the word \"boss.\" The leader, the person in charge or authority over\nanything, was a \"boss.\" There was as little formality in his relations\nwith his followers as there was in the case of the 20th Century\npolitical boss, and the same high respect paid him by his followers as\nwell as the same high consideration by him of their interests. He was\njust as much of an autocrat, and just as much dependent upon the general\npopularity of his actions for the ability to maintain his autocracy.\n\nThe sub-boss who could not command the loyalty of his followers was as\nquickly deposed, either by them or by his superiors, as the ancient ward\nleader of the 20th Century who lost control of his votes.\n\nAs society was organized in the 20th Century, I do not believe the\nsystem could have worked in anything but politics. I tremble to think\nwhat would have happened, had the attempt been made to handle the A. E.\nF. this way during the First World War, instead of by that rigid\nmilitary discipline and complete assumption of the individual as a mere\nstandardized cog in the machine.\n\nBut owing to the centuries of desperate suffering the people had endured\nat the hands of the Hans, there developed a spirit of self-sacrifice and\nconsideration for the common good that made the scheme applicable and\nefficient in all forms of human co-operation.\n\nI have a little heresy about all this, however. My associates regard the\nthought with as much horror as many worthy people of the 20th Century\nfelt in regard to any heretical suggestion that the original outline of\ngovernment as laid down in the First Constitution did not apply as well\nto 20th Century conditions as to those of the early 19th.\n\nIn later years, I felt that there was a certain softening of moral fiber\namong the people, since the Hans had been finally destroyed with all\ntheir works; and Americans have developed a new luxury economy. I have\nseen signs of the reawakening of greed, of selfishness. The eternal\ncycle seems to be at work. I fear that slowly, though surely, private\nwealth is reappearing, codes of inflexibility are developing; they will\nbe followed by corruption, degradation; and in the end some cataclysmic\nevent will end this era and usher in a new one.\n\nAll this, however, is wandering afar from my story, which concerns our\nearly battles against the Hans, and not our more modern problems of\nself-control.\n\nOur victory over the seven Han ships had set the country ablaze. The\nsecret had been carefully communicated to the other gangs, and the\ncountry was agog from one end to the other. There was feverish activity\nin the ammunition plants, and the hunting of stray Han ships became an\nenthusiastic sport. The results were disastrous to our hereditary\nenemies.\n\nFrom the Pacific Coast came the report of a great transpacific liner of\n75,000 tons \"lift\" being brought to earth from a position of\ninvisibility above the clouds. A dozen Sacramentos had caught the hazy\noutlines of its rep rays approaching them, head-on, in the twilight,\nlike ghostly pillars reaching into the sky. They had fired rockets into\nit with ease, whereas they would have had difficulty in hitting it if it\nhad been moving at right angles to their position. They got one rep ray.\nThe other was not strong enough to hold it up. It floated to earth, nose\ndown, and since it was unarmed and unarmored, they had no difficulty in\nshooting it to pieces and massacring its crew and passengers. It seemed\nbarbarous to me. But then I did not have centuries of bitter persecution\nin my blood.\n\nFrom the Jersey Beaches we received news of the destruction of a\nNu-yok-A-lan-a liner. The Sand-snipers, practically invisible in their\nsand-colored clothing, and half buried along the beaches, lay in wait\nfor days, risking the play of dis beams along the route, and finally\nregistering four hits within a week. The Hans discontinued their service\nalong this route, and as evidence that they were badly shaken by our\nsuccess, sent no raiders down the Beaches.\n\nIt was a few weeks later that Big Boss Hart sent for me.\n\n\"Tony,\" he said, \"There are two things I want to talk to you about. One\nof them will become public property in a few days, I think. We aren't\ngoing to get any more Han ships by shooting up their repellor rays\nunless we use much larger rockets. They are wise to us now. They're\nputting armor of great thickness in the hulls of their ships below the\nrep-ray machines. Near Bah-flo this morning a party of Eries shot one\nwithout success. The explosions staggered her, but did not penetrate. As\nnear as we can gather from their reports, their laboratories have\ndeveloped a new alloy of great tensile strength and elasticity which\nnevertheless lets the rep rays through like a sieve. Our reports\nindicate that the Eries' rockets bounced off harmlessly. Most of the\nparty was wiped out as the dis rays went into action on them.\n\n\"This is going to mean real business for all of the gangs before long.\nThe Big Bosses have just held a national ultrophone council. It was\ndecided that America must organize on a national basis. The first move\nis to develop sectional organization by Zones. I have been made\nSuperboss of the Mid-Atlantic Zone.\n\n\"We're in for it now. The Hans are sure to launch reprisal expeditions.\nIf we're to save the race we must keep them away from our camps and\nplants. I'm thinking of developing a permanent field force, along the\nlines of the regular armies of the 20th Century you told me about. Its\nbusiness will be twofold: to carry the warfare as much as possible to\nthe Hans, and to serve as a decoy, to keep their attention from our\nplants. I'm going to need your help in this.\n\n\"The other thing I wanted to talk to you about is this: Amazing and\nimpossible as it seems, there is a group, or perhaps an entire gang,\nsomewhere among us, that is betraying us to the Hans. It may be the Bad\nBloods, or it may be one of those gangs who live near one of the Han\ncities. You know, a hundred and fifteen or twenty years ago there were\ncertain of these people's ancestors who actually degraded themselves by\nmating with the Hans, sometimes even serving them as slaves, in the days\nbefore they brought all their service machinery to perfection.\n\n\"There is such a gang, called the Nagras, up near Bah-flo, and another\nin Mid-Jersey that men call the Pineys. But I hardly suspect the Pineys.\nThere is little intelligence among them. They wouldn't have the\ninformation to give the Hans, nor would they be capable of imparting it.\nThey're absolute savages.\"\n\n\"Just what evidence is there that anybody has been clearing information\nto the Hans?\" I asked.\n\n\"Well,\" he replied, \"first of all there was that raid upon us. That\nfirst Han ship knew the location of our plants exactly. You remember it\nfloated directly into position above the valley and began a systematic\nbeaming. Then, the Hans quite obviously have learned that we are picking\nup their electrophone waves, for they've gone back to their old, but\nextremely accurate, system of directional control. But we've been\ngetting them for the past week by installing automatic re-broadcast\nunits along the scar paths. This is what the Americans called those\nstrips of country directly under the regular ship routes of the Hans,\nwho as a matter of precaution frequently blasted them with their dis\nbeams to prevent the growth of foliage which might give shelter to the\nAmericans. But they've been beaming those paths so hard, it looks as\nthough they even had information of this strategy. And in addition,\nthey've been using code. Finally, we've picked up three of their\nmessages in which they discuss, with some nervousness, the existence of\nour 'mysterious' ultrophone.\"\n\n\"But they still have no knowledge of the nature and control of ultronic\nactivity?\" I asked.\n\n\"No,\" said the Big Boss thoughtfully, \"they don't seem to have a bit of\ninformation about it.\"\n\n\"Then it's quite clear,\" I ventured, \"that whoever is 'clearing' us to\nthem is doing it piecemeal. It sounds like a bit of occasional barter,\nrather than an out-and-out alliance. They're holding back as much\ninformation as possible for future bartering, perhaps.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Hart said, \"and it isn't information the Hans are giving in\nreturn, but some form of goods, or privilege. The trick would be to\nlocate the goods. I guess I'll have to make a personal trip around among\nthe Big Bosses.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\nThe Han City\n\n\nThis conversation set me thinking. All of the Han electrophone\ninter-communication had been an open record to the Americans for a good\nmany years, and the Hans were just finding it out. For centuries they\nhad not regarded us as any sort of a menace. Unquestionably it had never\noccurred to them to secrete their own records. Somewhere in Nu-yok or\nBah-flo, or possibly in Lo-Tan itself, the record of this traitorous\ntransaction would be more or less openly filed. If we could only get at\nit! I wondered if a raid might not be possible.\n\nBill Hearn and I talked it over with our Han-affairs Boss and his\nexperts. There ensued several days of research, in which the Han records\nof the entire decade were scanned and analyzed. In the end they picked\nout a mass of detail, and fitted it together into a very definite\npicture of the great central filing office of the Hans in Nu-yok, where\nthe entire mass of official records was kept, constantly available for\ninstant projectoscoping to any of the city's offices, and of the system\nby which the information was filed.\n\nThe attempt began to look feasible, though Hart instantly turned the\nidea down when I first presented it to him. It was unthinkable, he said.\nSheer suicide. But in the end I persuaded him.\n\n\"I will need,\" I said, \"Blash, who is thoroughly familiar with the Han\nlibrary system; Bert Gaunt, who for years has specialized on their\nmilitary offices; Bill Barker, the ray specialist, and the best swooper\npilot we have.\" _Swoopers_ are one-man and two-man ships, developed by\nthe Americans, with skeleton backbones of inertron (during the war\npainted green for invisibility against the green forests below) and\n\"bellies\" of clear ultron.\n\n\"That will be Mort Gibbons,\" said Hart. \"We've only got three swoopers\nleft, Tony, but I'll risk one of them if you and the others will\nvoluntarily risk your existences. But mind, I won't urge or order one of\nyou to go. I'll spread the word to every Plant Boss at once to give you\nanything and everything you need in the way of equipment.\"\n\nWhen I told Wilma of the plan, I expected her to raise violent and\ntearful objections, but she didn't. She was made of far sterner stuff\nthan the women of the 20th Century. Not that she couldn't weep as\ncopiously or be just as whimsical on occasion; but she wouldn't weep for\nthe same reasons.\n\nShe just gave me an unfathomable look, in which there seemed to be a bit\nof pride, and asked eagerly for the details. I confess I was somewhat\ndisappointed that she could so courageously risk my loss, even though I\nwas amazed at her fortitude. But later I was to learn how little I knew\nher then.\n\nWe were ready to slide off at dawn the next morning. I had kissed Wilma\ngood-bye at our camp, and after a final conference over our plans, we\nboarded our craft and gently glided away over the tree tops on a course,\nwhich, after crossing three routes of the Han ships, would take us out\nover the Atlantic, off the Jersey coast, whence we would come up on\nNu-yok from the ocean.\n\nTwice we had to nose down and lie motionless on the ground near a route\nwhile Han ships passed. Those were tense moments. Had the green back of\nour ship been observed, we would have been disintegrated in a second.\nBut it wasn't.\n\nOnce over the water, however, we climbed in a great spiral, ten miles in\ndiameter, until our altimeter registered ten miles. Here Gibbons shut\noff his rocket motor, and we floated, far above the level of the\nAtlantic liners, whose course was well to the north of us anyhow, and\nwaited for nightfall.\n\nThen Gibbons turned from his control long enough to grin at me.\n\n\"I have a surprise for you, Tony,\" he said, throwing back the lid of\nwhat I had supposed was a big supply case. And with a sigh of relief,\nWilma stepped out of the case.\n\n\"If you 'go into zero' (a common expression of the day for being\nannihilated by the disintegrator ray), you don't think I'm going to let\nyou go alone, do you, Tony? I couldn't believe my ears last night when\nyou spoke of going without me, until I realized that you are still five\nhundred years behind the times in lots of ways. Don't you know, dear\nheart, that you offered me the greatest insult a husband could give a\nwife? You didn't, of course.\"\n\nThe others, it seemed, had all been in on the secret, and now they would\nhave kidded me unmercifully, except that Wilma's eyes blazed\ndangerously.\n\nAt nightfall, we maneuvered to a position directly above the city. This\ntook some time and calculation on the part of Bill Barker, who explained\nto me that he had to determine our point by ultronic bearings. The\nslightest resort to an electronic instrument, he feared, might be\ndetected by our enemies' locators. In fact, we did not dare bring our\nswooper any lower than five miles for fear that its capacity might be\nreflected in their instruments.\n\nFinally, however, he succeeded in locating above the central tower of\nthe city.\n\n\"If my calculations are as much as ten feet off,\" he remarked with\nconfidence, \"I'll eat the tower. Now the rest is up to you, Mort. See\nwhat you can do to hold her steady. No--here, watch this indicator--the\nred beam, not the green one. See--if you keep it exactly centered on the\nneedle, you're O.K. The width of the beam represents seventeen feet. The\ntower platform is fifty feet square, so we've got a good margin to work\non.\"\n\nFor several moments we watched as Gibbons bent over his levers,\nconstantly adjusting them with deft touches of his fingers. After a bit\nof wavering, the beam remained centered on the needle.\n\n\"Now,\" I said, \"let's drop.\"\n\nI opened the trap and looked down, but quickly shut it again when I felt\nthe air rushing out of the ship into the rarefied atmosphere in a\ntorrent. Gibbons literally yelled a protest from his instrument board.\n\n\"I forgot,\" I mumbled. \"Silly of me. Of course, we'll have to drop out\nof compartment.\"\n\nThe compartment, to which I referred, was similar to those in some of\nthe 20th Century submarines. We all entered it. There was barely room\nfor us to stand, shoulder to shoulder. With some struggles, we got into\nour special air helmets and adjusted the pressure. At our signal,\nGibbons exhausted the air in the compartment, pumping it into the body\nof the ship, and as the little signal light flashed, Wilma threw open\nthe hatch.\n\nSetting the ultron-wire reel, I climbed through, and began to slide down\ngently.\n\nWe all had our belts on, of course, adjusted to a weight balance of but\na few ounces. And the five-mile reel of ultron wire that was to be our\nguide, was of gossamer fineness, though, anyway, I believe it would have\nlifted the full weight of the five of us, so strong and tough was this\ninvisible metal. As an extra precaution, since the wire was of the\npurest metal, and therefore totally invisible, even in daylight, we all\nhad our belts hooked on small rings that slid down the wire.\n\nI went down with the end of the wire. Wilma followed a few feet above\nme, then Barker, Gaunt and Blash. Gibbons, of course, stayed behind to\nhold the ship in position and control the paying out of the line. We all\nhad our ultrophones in place inside our air helmets, and so could\nconverse with one another and with Gibbons. But at Wilma's suggestion,\nalthough we would have liked to let the Big Boss listen in, we kept them\nadjusted to short-range work, for fear that those who had been clearing\nwith the Hans, and against whom we were on a raid for evidence, might\nalso pick up our conversation. We had no fear that the Hans would hear\nus. In fact, we had the added advantage that, even after we landed, we\ncould converse freely without danger of their hearing our voices through\nour air helmets.\n\nFor a while I could see nothing below but utter darkness. Then I\nrealized, from the feel of the air as much as from anything, that we\nwere sinking through a cloud layer. We passed through two more cloud\nlayers before anything was visible to us.\n\nThen there came under my gaze, about two miles below, one of the most\nbeautiful sights I have ever seen; the soft, yet brilliant, radiance of\nthe great Han city of Nu-yok. Every foot of its structural members\nseemed to glow with a wonderful incandescence, tower piled up on tower,\nand all built on the vast base-mass of the city, which, so I had been\ntold, sheered upward from the surface of the rivers to a height of 728\nlevels.\n\nThe city, I noticed with some surprise, did not cover anything like the\nsame area as the New York of the 20th Century. It occupied, as a matter\nof fact, only the lower half of Manhattan Island, with one section\nstraddling the East River, and spreading out sufficiently over what once\nhad been Brooklyn, to provide berths for the great liners and other air\ncraft.\n\nStraight beneath my feet was a tiny dark patch. It seemed the only spot\nin the entire city that was not aflame with radiance. This was the\ncentral tower, in the top floors of which were housed the vast library\nof record files and the main projectoscope plant.\n\n\"You can shoot the wire now,\" I ultrophoned Gibbons, and let go the\nlittle weighted knob. It dropped like a plummet, and we followed with\nconsiderable speed, but braking our descent with gloved hands\nsufficiently to see whether the knob, on which a faint light glowed as a\nsignal for ourselves, might be observed by any Han guard or night\nprowler. Apparently it was not, and we again shot down with accelerated\nspeed.\n\nWe landed on the roof of the tower without any mishap, and fortunately\nfor our plan, in darkness. Since there was nothing above it on which it\nwould have been worth while to shed illumination, or from which there\nwas any need to observe it, the Hans had neglected to light the tower\nroof, or indeed to occupy it at all. This was the reason we had selected\nit as our landing place.\n\nAs soon as Gibbons had our word, he extinguished the knob light, and the\nknob, as well as the wire, became totally invisible. At our ultrophoned\nword, he would light it again.\n\n\"No gun play now,\" I warned. \"Swords only, and then only if absolutely\nnecessary.\"\n\nClosely bunched, and treading as lightly as only inertron-belted people\ncould, we made our way cautiously through a door and down an inclined\nplane to the floor below, where Gaunt and Blash assured us the military\noffices were located.\n\nTwice Barker cautioned us to stop as we were about to pass in front of\nmirror-like \"windows\" in the passage wall, and flattening ourselves to\nthe floor, we crawled past them.\n\n\"Projectoscopes,\" he said. \"Probably on automatic record only, at this\ntime of night. Still, we don't want to leave any records for them to\nstudy after we're gone.\"\n\n\"Were you ever here before?\" I asked.\n\n\"No,\" he replied, \"but I haven't been studying their electrophone\ncommunications for seven years without being able to recognize these\nmachines when I run across them.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\nThe Fight in the Tower\n\n\nSo far we had not laid eyes on a Han. The tower seemed deserted. Blash\nand Gaunt, however, assured me that there would be at least one man on\n\"duty\" in the military offices, though he would probably be asleep, and\ntwo or three in the library proper and the projectoscope plant.\n\n\"We've got to put them out of commission,\" I said. \"Did you bring the\n'dope' cans, Wilma?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" she said, \"two for each. Here,\" and she distributed them.\n\nWe were now two levels below the roof, and at the point where we were to\nseparate.\n\nI did not want to let Wilma out of my sight, but it was necessary.\n\nAccording to our plan, Barker was to make his way to the projectoscope\nplant, Blash and I to the library, and Wilma and Gaunt to the military\noffice.\n\nBlash and I traversed a long corridor, and paused at the great arched\ndoorway of the library. Cautiously we peered in. Seated at three great\nswitchboards were library operatives. Occasionally one of them would\nreach lazily for a lever, or sleepily push a button, as little numbered\nlights winked on and off. They were answering calls for electrograph and\nviewplate records on all sorts of subjects from all sections of the\ncity.\n\nI apprised my companions of the situation.\n\n\"Better wait a bit,\" Blash added. \"The calls will lessen shortly.\"\n\nWilma reported an officer in the military office sound asleep.\n\n\"Give him the can, then,\" I said.\n\nBarker was to do nothing more than keep watch in the projectoscope\nplant, and a few moments later he reported himself well concealed, with\na splendid view of the floor.\n\n\"I think we can take a chance now,\" Blash said to me, and at my nod, he\nopened the lid of his dope can. Of course, the fumes did not affect us,\nthrough our helmets. They were absolutely without odor or visibility,\nand in a few seconds the librarians were unconscious. We stepped into\nthe room.\n\nThere ensued considerable cautious observation and experiment on the\npart of Gaunt, working from the military office, and Blash in the\nlibrary; while Wilma and I, with drawn swords and sharply attuned\nmicrophones, stood guard, and occasionally patrolled nearby corridors.\n\n\"I hear something approaching,\" Wilma said after a bit, with excitement\nin her voice. \"It's a soft, gliding sound.\"\n\n\"That's an elevator somewhere,\" Barker cut in from the projectoscope\nfloor. \"Can you locate it? I can't hear it.\"\n\n\"It's to the east of me,\" she replied.\n\n\"And to my west,\" said I, faintly catching it. \"It's between us, Wilma,\nand nearer you than me. Be careful. Have you got any information yet,\nBlash and Gaunt?\"\n\n\"Getting it now,\" one of them replied. \"Give us two minutes more.\"\n\n\"Keep at it then,\" I said. \"We'll guard.\"\n\nThe soft, gliding sound ceased.\n\n\"I think it's very close to me,\" Wilma almost whispered. \"Come closer,\nTony. I have a feeling something is going to happen. I've never known my\nnerves to get taut like this without reason.\"\n\nIn some alarm, I launched myself down the corridor in a great leap\ntoward the intersection whence I knew I could see her.\n\nIn the middle of my leap my ultrophone registered her gasp of alarm. The\nnext instant I glided to a stop at the intersection to see Wilma backing\ntoward the door of the military office, her sword red with blood, and an\ninert form on the corridor floor. Two other Hans were circling to either\nside of her with wicked-looking knives, while a third evidently a high\nofficer, judging by the resplendence of his garb tugged desperately to\nget an electrophone instrument out of a bulky pocket. If he ever gave\nthe alarm, there was no telling what might happen to us.\n\nI was at least seventy feet away, but I crouched low and sprang with\nevery bit of strength in my legs. It would be more correct to say that I\ndived, for I reached the fellow head on, with no attempt to draw my legs\nbeneath me.\n\nSome instinct must have warned him, for he turned suddenly as I hurtled\nclose to him. But by this time I had sunk close to the floor, and had\nstiffened myself rigidly, lest a dragging knee or foot might just\nprevent my reaching him. I brought my blade upward and over. It was a\nvicious slash that laid him open, bisecting him from groin to chin, and\nhis dead body toppled down on me, as I slid to a tangled stop.\n\nThe other two startled, turned. Wilma leaped at one and struck him down\nwith a side slash. I looked up at this instant, and the dazed fear on\nhis face at the length of her leap registered vividly. The Hans knew\nnothing of our inertron belts, it seemed, and these leaps and dives of\nours filled them with terror.\n\nAs I rose to my feet, a gory mess, Wilma, with a poise and speed which I\nfound time to admire even in this crisis, again leaped. This time she\ndove head first as I had done and, with a beautifully executed thrust,\nran the last Han through the throat.\n\nUncertainly, she scrambled to her feet, staggered queerly, and then sank\ngently prone on the corridor. She had fainted.\n\nAt this juncture, Blash and Gaunt reported with elation that they had\nthe record we wanted.\n\n\"Back to the roof, everybody!\" I ordered, as I picked Wilma up in my\narms. With her inertron belt, she felt as light as a feather.\n\nGaunt joined me at once from the military office, and at the\nintersection of the corridor, we came upon Blash waiting for us. Barker,\nhowever, was not in evidence.\n\n\"Where are you, Barker?\" I called.\n\n\"Go ahead,\" he replied. \"I'll be with you on the roof at once.\"\n\nWe came out in the open without any further mishap, and I instructed\nGibbons in the ship to light the knob on the end of the ultron wire. It\nflashed dully a few feet away from us. Just how he had maneuvered the\nship to keep our end of the line in position, without its swinging in a\ntremendous arc, I have never been able to understand. Had not the night\nbeen an unusually still one, he could not have checked the initial\npendulum-like movements. As it was, there was considerable air current\nat certain of the levels, and in different directions too. But Gibbons\nwas an expert of rare ability and sensitivity in the handling of a\nrocket ship, and he managed, with the aid of his delicate instruments,\nto sense the drifts almost before they affected the fine ultron wire,\nand to neutralize them with little shifts in the position of the ship.\n\nBlash and Gaunt fastened their rings to the wire, and I hooked my own\nand Wilma's on, too. But on looking around, I found Barker was still\nmissing.\n\n\"Barker, come!\" I called. \"We're waiting.\"\n\n\"Coming!\" he replied, and indeed, at that instant, his figure appeared\nup the ramp. He chuckled as he fastened his ring to the wire, and said\nsomething about a little surprise he had left for the Hans.\n\n\"Don't reel in the wire more than a few hundred feet,\" I instructed\nGibbons. \"It will take too long to wind it in. We'll float up, and when\nwe're aboard, we can drop it.\"\n\nIn order to float up, we had to dispense with a pound or two of weight\napiece. We hurled our swords from us, and kicked off our shoes as\nGibbons reeled up the line a bit, and then letting go of the wire, began\nto hum upward on our rings with increasing velocity.\n\nThe rush of air brought Wilma to, and I hastily explained to her that we\nhad been successful. Receding far below us now, I could see our dully\nshining knob swinging to and fro in an ever widening arc, as it crossed\nand recrossed the black square of the tower roof. As an extra\nprecaution, I ordered Gibbons to shut off the light, and to show one\nfrom the belly of the ship, for so great was our speed now, that I began\nto fear we would have difficulty in checking ourselves. We were\nliterally falling upward, and with terrific acceleration.\n\nFortunately, we had several minutes in which to solve this difficulty,\nwhich none of us, strangely enough, had foreseen. It was Gibbons who\nfound the answer.\n\n\"You'll be all right if all of you grab the wire tight when I give the\nword,\" he said. \"First I'll start reeling it in at full speed. You won't\nget much of a jar, and then I'll decrease its speed again gradually, and\nits weight will hold you back. Are you ready? One--two--three!\"\n\nWe all grabbed tightly with our gloved hands as he gave the word. We\nmust have been rising a good bit faster than he figured, however, for it\nwrenched our arms considerably, and the maneuver set up a sickening\npendulum motion.\n\nFor a while all we could do was swing there in an arc that may have been\na quarter of a mile across, about three and a half miles above the city,\nand still more than a mile from our ship.\n\nGibbons skilfully took up the slack as our momentum pulled up the line.\nThen at last we had ourselves under control again, and continued our\nupward journey, checking our speed somewhat with our gloves.\n\nThere was not one of us who did not breathe a big sigh of relief when we\nscrambled through the hatch safely into the ship again, cast off the\nultron line and slammed the trap shut.\n\nLittle realizing that we had a still more terrible experience to go\nthrough, we discussed the information Blash and Gaunt had between them\nextracted from the Han records, and the advisability of ultrophoning\nHart at once.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nThe Walls of Hell\n\n\nThe traitors were, it seemed, a degenerate gang of Americans, located a\nfew miles north of Nu-yok on the wooded banks of the Hudson, the\nSinsings. They had exchanged scraps of information to the Hans in return\nfor several old repellor-ray machines, and the privilege of tuning in on\nthe Han electronic power broadcast for their operation, provided their\nships agreed to subject themselves to the orders of the Han traffic\noffice, while aloft.\n\nThe rest wanted to ultrophone their news at once, since there was always\ndanger that we might never get back to the gang with it.\n\nI objected, however. The Sinsings would be likely to pick up our\nmessage. Even if we used the directional projector, they might have\nscouts out to the west and south in the big inter-gang stretches of\ncountry. They would flee to Nu-yok and escape the punishment they\nmerited. It seemed to be vitally important that they should not, for the\nsake of example to other weak groups among the American gangs, as well\nas to prevent a crisis in which they might clear more vital information\nto the enemy.\n\n\"Out to sea again,\" I ordered Gibbons. \"They'll be less likely to look\nfor us in that direction.\"\n\n\"Easy, Boss, easy,\" he replied. \"Wait until we get up a mile or two\nmore. They must have discovered evidences of our raid by now, and their\ndis-ray wall may go in operation any moment.\"\n\nEven as he spoke, the ship lurched downward and to one side.\n\n\"There it is!\" he shouted. \"Hang on, everybody. We're going to nose\nstraight up!\" And he flipped the rocket-motor control wide open.\n\nLooking through one of the rear ports, I could see a nebulous, luminous\nring, and on all sides the atmosphere took on a faint iridescence.\n\nWe were almost over the destructive range of the disintegrator-ray wall,\na hollow cylinder of annihilation shooting upward from a solid ring of\ngenerators surrounding the city. It was the main defense system of the\nHans, which had never been used except in periodic tests. They may or\nmay not have suspected that an American rocket ship was within the\ncylinder; probably they had turned on their generators more as a\nprecaution to prevent any reaching a position above the city.\n\nBut even at our present great height, we were in great danger. It was a\nquestion how much we might have been harmed by the rays themselves, for\ntheir effective range was not much more than seven or eight miles. The\ngreater danger lay in the terrific downward rush of air within the\ncylinder to replace that which was being burned into nothingness by the\ncontinual play of the disintegrators. The air fell into the cylinder\nwith the force of a gale. It would be rushing toward the wall from the\noutside with terrific force also, but, naturally, the effect was\nintensified on the interior.\n\nOur ship vibrated and trembled. We had only one chance of escape--to\nfight our way well above the current. To drift down with it meant\nultimately, and inevitably, to be sucked into the destruction wall at\nsome lower level.\n\nBut very gradually and jerkily our upward movement, as shown on the\nindicators, began to increase, and after an hour of desperate struggle\nwe were free of the maelstrom and into the rarefied upper levels. The\nterror beneath us was now invisible through several layers of cloud\nformations.\n\nGibbons brought the ship back to an even keel, and drove her eastward\ninto one of the most brilliantly gorgeous sunrises I have ever seen.\n\nWe described a great circle to the south and west, in a long easy dive,\nfor he had cut out his rocket motors to save them as much as possible.\nWe had drawn terrifically on their fuel reserves in our battle with the\nelements. For the moment, the atmosphere below cleared, and we could see\nthe Jersey coast far beneath, like a great map.\n\n\"We're not through yet,\" remarked Gibbons suddenly, pointing at his\nperiscope, and adjusting it to telescopic focus. \"A Han ship, and a\n'drop ship' at that--and he's seen us. If he whips that beam of his on\nus, we're done.\"\n\nI gazed, fascinated, at the viewplate. What I saw was a cigar-shaped\nship not dissimilar to our own in design, and from the proportional size\nof its ports, of about the same size as our swoopers. We learned later\nthat they carried crews, for the most part of not more than three or\nfour men. They had streamline hulls and tails that embodied\nuniversal-jointed double fish-tail rudders. In operation they rose to\ngreat heights on their powerful repellor rays, then gathered speed\neither by a straight nose dive, or an inclined dive in which they\nsometimes used the repellor ray slanted at a sharp angle. He was already\nabove us, though several miles to the north. He could, of course, try to\nget on our tail and \"spear\" us with his beam as he dropped at us from a\ngreat height.\n\nSuddenly his beam blazed forth in a blinding flash, whipping downward\nslowly to our right. He went through a peculiar corkscrew-like\nevolution, evidently maneuvering to bring his beam to bear on us with a\nspiral motion.\n\nGibbons instantly sent our ship into a series of evolutions that must\nhave looked like those of a frightened hen. Alternately, he used the\nforward and the reverse rocket blasts, and in varying degree. We\nfluttered, we shot suddenly to right and left, and dropped like a\nplummet in uncertain movements. But all the time the Han scout dropped\ntoward us, determinedly whipping the air around us with his beam. Once\nit sliced across beneath us, not more than a hundred feet, and we\ndropped with a jar into the pocket formed by the destruction of the air.\n\nHe had dropped to within a mile of us, and was coming with the speed of\na projectile, when the end came. Gibbons always swore it was sheer luck.\nMaybe it was, but I like pilots who are lucky that way.\n\nIn the midst of a dizzy, fluttering maneuver of our own, with the Han\nship enlarging to our gaze with terrifying rapidity, and its beam slowly\nslicing toward us in what looked like certain destruction within the\nsecond, I saw Gibbons' fingers flick at the lever of his rocket gun and\na split second later the Han ship flew apart like a clay pigeon.\n\nWe staggered, and fluttered crazily for several moments while Gibbons\nstruggled to bring our ship into balance, and a section of about four\nsquare feet in the side of the ship near the stern slowly crumbled like\nrusted metal. His beam actually had touched us, but our explosive rocket\nhad got him a thousandth of a second sooner.\n\nPart of our rudder had been annihilated, and our motor damaged. But we\nwere able to swoop gently back across Jersey, fortunately crossing the\nship lanes without sighting any more Han craft, and finally settling to\nrest in the little glade beneath the trees, near Hart's camp.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\nThe New Boss\n\n\nWe had ultrophoned our arrival and the Big Boss himself, surrounded by\nthe Council, was on hand to welcome us and learn our news. In turn we\nwere informed that during the night a band of raiding Bad Bloods,\ndisguised under the insignia of the Altoonas, a gang some distance to\nthe west of us, had destroyed several of our camps before our people had\nrallied and driven them off. Their purpose, evidently, had been to\nembroil us with the Altoonas, but fortunately, one of our exchanges\nrecognized the Bad Blood leader, who had been slain.\n\nThe Big Boss had mobilized the full raiding force of the Gang, and was\non the point of heading an expedition for the extermination of the Bad\nBloods.\n\nI looked around the grim circle of the sub-bosses, and realized the fate\nof America, at this moment, lay in their hands. Their temper demanded\nthe immediate expenditure of our full effort in revenging ourselves for\nthis raid. But the strategic exigencies, to my mind, quite clearly\ndemanded the instant and absolute extermination of the Sinsings. It\nmight be only a matter of hours, for all we knew, before these degraded\npeople would barter clues to the American ultronic secrets to the Hans.\n\n\"How large a force have we?\" I asked Hart.\n\n\"Every man and maid who can be spared,\" he replied. \"That gives us seven\nhundred married and unmarried men, and three hundred girls, more than\nthe entire Bad Blood Gang. Every one is equipped with belts,\nultrophones, rocket guns and swords, and all fighting mad.\"\n\nI meditated how I might put the matter to these determined men, and was\nvaguely conscious that they were awaiting my words.\n\nFinally I began to speak. I do not remember to this day just what I\nsaid. I talked calmly, with due regard for their passion, but with deep\nconviction. I went over the information we had collected, point by\npoint, building my case logically, and painting a lurid picture of the\ndanger impending in that half-alliance between the Sinsings and the Hans\nof Nu-yok. I became impassioned, culminating, I believe, with a vow to\nproceed single-handed against the hereditary enemies of our race, \"if\nthe Wyomings were blindly set on placing a gang feud ahead of honor and\nduty and the hopes of all America.\"\n\nAs I concluded, a great calm came over me, as of one detached. I had\nfelt much the same way during several crises in the First World War. I\ngazed from face to face, striving to read their expressions, and in a\nmood to make good my threat without any further heroics, if the decision\nwas against me.\n\nBut it was Hart who sensed the temper of the Council more quickly than I\ndid, and looked beyond it into the future.\n\nHe arose from the tree trunk on which he had been sitting.\n\n\"That settles it,\" he said, looking around the ring. \"I have felt this\nthing coming on for some time now. I'm sure the Council agrees with me\nthat there is among us a man more capable than I, to boss the Wyoming\nGang, despite his handicap of having had all too short a time in which\nto familiarize himself with our modern ways and facilities. Whatever I\ncan do to support his effective leadership, at any cost, I pledge myself\nto do.\"\n\nAs he concluded, he advanced to where I stood, and taking from his head\nthe green-crested helmet that constituted his badge of office, to my\nsurprise he placed it in my mechanically extended hand.\n\nThe roar of approval that went up from the Council members left me\ndazed. Somebody ultrophoned the news to the rest of the Gang, and even\nthough the earflaps of my helmet were turned up, I could hear the cheers\nwith which my invisible followers greeted me, from near and distant\nhillsides, camps and plants.\n\nMy first move was to make sure that the Phone Boss, in communicating\nthis news to the members of the Gang, had not re-broadcast my talk nor\nmentioned my plan of shifting the attack from the Bad Bloods to the\nSinsings. I was relieved by his assurance that he had not, for it would\nhave wrecked the whole plan. Everything depended upon our ability to\nsurprise the Sinsings.\n\nSo I pledged the Council and my companions to secrecy, and allowed it to\nbe believed that we were about to take to the air and the trees against\nthe Bad Bloods.\n\nThat outfit must have been badly scared, the way they were \"burning\" the\nether with ultrophone alibis and propaganda for the benefit of the more\ndistant gangs. It was their old game, and the only method by which they\nhad avoided extermination long ago from their immediate neighbors--these\nappeals to the spirit of American brotherhood, addressed to gangs too\nfar away to have had the sort of experience with them that had fallen to\nour lot.\n\nI chuckled. Here was another good reason for the shift in my plans. Were\nwe actually to undertake the exterminations of the Bad Bloods at once,\nit would have been a hard job to convince some of the gangs that we had\nnot been precipitate and unjustified. Jealousies and prejudices existed.\nThere were gangs which would give the benefit of the doubt to the Bad\nBloods, rather than to ourselves, and the issue was now hopelessly\nbeclouded with the clever lies that were being broadcast in an unceasing\nstream.\n\nBut the extermination of the Sinsings would be another thing. In the\nfirst place, there would be no warning of our action until it was all\nover, I hoped. In the second place, we would have indisputable proof, in\nthe form of their rep-ray ships and other paraphernalia, of their\ntraffic with the Hans; and the state of American prejudice, at the time\nof which I write held trafficking with the Hans a far more heinous thing\nthan even a vicious gang feud.\n\nI called an executive session of the Council at once. I wanted to\ninventory our military resources.\n\nI created a new office on the spot, that of \"Control Boss,\" and\nappointed Ned Garlin to the post, turning over his former responsibility\nas Plants Boss to his assistant. I needed someone, I felt, to tie in the\nrecords of the various functional activities of the campaign, and take\nover from me the task of keeping the records of them up to the minute.\n\nI received reports from the bosses of the ultrophone unit, and those of\nfood, transportation, fighting gear, chemistry, electronic activity and\nelectrophone intelligence, ultroscopes, air patrol and contact guard.\n\nMy ideas for the campaign, of course, were somewhat tinged with my 20th\nCentury experience, and I found myself faced with the task of working\nout a staff organization that was a composite of the best and most\neasily applied principles of business and military efficiency, as I knew\nthem from the viewpoint of immediate practicality.\n\nWhat I wanted was an organization that would be specialized,\nfunctionally, not as that indicated above, but from the angles of:\nintelligence as to the Sinsings' activities; intelligence as to Han\nactivities; perfection of communication with my own units; co-operation\nof field command; and perfect mobilization of emergency supplies and\nresources.\n\nIt took several hours of hard work with the Council to map out the plan.\nFirst we assigned functional experts and equipment to each \"Division\" in\naccordance with its needs. Then these in turn were reassigned by the new\nDivision Bosses to the Field Commands as needed, or as Independent or\nHeadquarters Units. The two intelligence divisions were named the White\nand the Yellow, indicating that one specialized on the American enemy\nand the other on the Mongolians.\n\nThe division in charge of our own communications, the assignment of\nultrophone frequencies and strengths, and the maintenance of operators\nand equipment, I called \"Communications.\"\n\nI named Bill Hearn to the post of Field Boss, in charge of the main or\nundetached fighting units, and to the Resources Division, I assigned all\nresponsibility for what few aircraft we had; and all transportation and\nsupply problems, I assigned to \"Resources.\" The functional bosses stayed\nwith this division.\n\nWe finally completed our organization with the assignment of liaison\nrepresentatives among the various divisions as needed.\n\nThus I had a \"Headquarters Staff\" composed of the Division Bosses who\nreported directly to Ned Garlin as Control Boss, or to Wilma as my\npersonal assistant. And each of the Division Bosses had a small staff of\nhis own.\n\nIn the final summing up of our personnel and resources, I found we had\nroughly a thousand \"troops,\" of whom some three hundred and fifty were,\nin what I called the Service Divisions, the rest being in Bill Hearn's\nField Division. This latter number, however, was cut down somewhat by\nthe assignment of numerous small units to detached service. Altogether,\nthe actual available fighting force, I figured, would number about five\nhundred, by the time we actually went into action.\n\nWe had only six small swoopers, but I had an ingenious plan in my mind,\nas the result of our little raid on Nu-yok, that would make this\nsufficient, since the reserves of inertron blocks were larger than I\nexpected to find them. The Resources Division, by packing its supply\ncases a bit tight, or by slipping in extra blocks of inertron, was able\nto reduce each to a weight of a few ounces. These easily could be\nfloated and towed by the swoopers in any quantity. Hitched to ultron\nlines, it would be a virtual impossibility for them to break loose.\n\nThe entire personnel, of course, was supplied with jumpers, and if each\nman and girl was careful to adjust balances properly, the entire number\ncould also be towed along through the air, grasping wires of ultron,\nswinging below the swoopers, or stringing out behind them.\n\nThere would be nothing tiring about this, because the strain would be no\ngreater than that of carrying a one or two pound weight in the hand,\nexcept for air friction at high speeds. But to make doubly sure that we\nshould lose none of our personnel, I gave strict orders that the belts\nand tow lines should be equipped with rings and hooks.\n\nSo great was the efficiency of the fundamental organization and\ndiscipline of the Gang, that we got under way at nightfall.\n\nOne by one the swoopers eased into the air, each followed by its long\ntrain or \"kite-tail\" of humanity and supply cases hanging lightly from\nits tow line. For convenience, the tow lines were made of an alloy of\nultron which, unlike the metal itself, is visible.\n\nAt first these \"tails\" hung downward, but as the ships swung into\nformation and headed eastward toward the Bad Blood territory, gathering\nspeed, they began to string out behind. And swinging low from each ship\non heavily weighted lines, ultroscope, ultrophone, and straight-vision\nobservers keenly scanned the countryside, while intelligence men in the\nswoopers above bent over their instrument boards and viewplates.\n\nLeaving Control Boss Ned Garlin temporarily in charge of affairs, Wilma\nand I dropped a weighted line from our ship, and slid down about half\nway to the under lookouts, that is to say, about a thousand feet. The\nsensation of floating swiftly through the air like this, in the absolute\nsecurity of one's confidence in the inertron belt, was one of\nnever-ending delight to me.\n\nWe reascended into the swooper as the expedition approached the\nterritory of the Bad Bloods, and directed the preparations for the\nbombardment. It was part of my plan to appear to carry out the attack as\noriginally planned.\n\nAbout fifteen miles from their camps our ships came to a halt and\nmaintained their positions for a while with the idling blasts of their\nrocket motors, to give the ultroscope operators a chance to make a\nthorough examination of the territory below us, for it was very\nimportant that this next step in our program should be carried out with\nall secrecy.\n\nAt length they reported the ground below us entirely clear of any\nappearance of human occupation, and a gun unit of long-range specialists\nwas lowered with a dozen rocket guns, equipped with special automatic\ndevices that the Resources Division had developed at my request, a few\nhours before our departure. These were aiming and timing devices. After\ncalculating the range, elevation and rocket charges carefully, the guns\nwere left, concealed in a ravine, and the men were hauled up into the\nship again. At the predetermined hour, those unmanned rocket guns would\nbegin automatically to bombard the Bad Bloods' hillsides, shifting their\naim and elevation slightly with each shot, as did many of our artillery\npieces in the First World War.\n\nIn the meantime, we turned south about twenty miles, and grounded,\nwaiting for the bombardment to begin before we attempted to sneak across\nthe Han ship lane. I was relying for security on the distraction that\nthe bombardment might furnish the Han observers.\n\nIt was tense work waiting, but the affair went through as planned, our\nsquadron drifting across the route high enough to enable the ships'\ntails of troops and supply cases to clear the ground.\n\nIn crossing the second ship route, out along the Beaches of Jersey, we\nwere not so successful in escaping observation. A Han ship came speeding\nalong at a very low elevation. We caught it on our electronic location\nand direction finders, and also located it with our ultroscopes, but it\ncame so fast and so low that I thought it best to remain where we had\ngrounded the second time, and lie quiet, rather than get under way and\ncross in front of it.\n\nThe point was this. While the Hans had no such devices as our\nultroscopes, with which we could see in the dark (within certain\nlimitations of course), and their electronic instruments would be\nvirtually useless in uncovering our presence, since all but natural\nelectronic activities were carefully eliminated from our apparatus,\nexcept electrophone receivers (which are not easily spotted), the Hans\ndid have some very highly sensitive sound devices which operated with\ngreat efficiency in calm weather, so far as sounds emanating from the\nair were concerned. But the \"ground roar\" greatly confused their use of\nthese instruments in the location of specific sounds floating up from\nthe surface of the earth.\n\nThis ship must have caught some slight noise of ours, however, in its\nsensitive instruments, for we heard its electronic devices go into play,\nand picked up the routine report of the noise to its Base Ship\nCommander. But from the nature of the conversation, I judged they had\nnot identified it, and were, in fact, more curious about the detonations\nthey were picking up now from the Bad Blood lands some sixty miles or so\nto the west.\n\nImmediately after this ship had shot by, we took the air again, and\nfollowing much the same route that I had taken the previous night,\nclimbed in a long semi-circle out over the ocean, swung toward the north\nand finally the west. We set our course, however, for the Sinsings' land\nnorth of Nu-yok, instead of for the city itself.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\nThe Finger of Doom\n\n\nAs we crossed the Hudson River, a few miles north of the city, we\ndropped several units of the Yellow Intelligence Division, with full\ninstrumental equipment. Their apparatus cases were nicely balanced at\nonly a few ounces weight each, and the men used their chute capes to\nease their drops.\n\nWe recrossed the river a little distance above and began dropping White\nIntelligence units and a few long and short range gun units. Then we\nheld our position until we began to get reports. Gradually we ringed the\nterritory of the Sinsings, our observation units working busily and\npatiently at their locators and scopes, both aloft and aground, until\nGarlin finally turned to me with the remark:\n\n\"The map circle is complete now, Boss. We've got clear locations all the\nway around them.\"\n\n\"Let me see it,\" I replied, and studied the illuminated viewplate map,\nwith its little overlapping circles of light that indicated spots proved\nclear of the enemy by ultroscopic observation.\n\nI nodded to Bill Hearn. \"Go ahead now, Hearn,\" I said, \"and place your\nbarrage men.\"\n\nHe spoke into his ultrophone, and three of the ships began to glide in a\nwide ring around the enemy territory. Every few seconds, at the word\nfrom his Unit Boss, a gunner would drop off the wire, and slipping the\nclasp of his chute cape, drift down into the darkness below.\n\nBill formed two lines, parallel to and facing the river, and enclosing\nthe entire territory of the enemy between them. Above and below,\nstraddling the river, were two defensive lines. These latter were merely\nto hold their positions. The others were to close in toward each other,\npushing a high-explosive barrage five miles ahead of them. When the two\nbarrages met, both lines were to switch to short-vision-range barrage\nand continue to close in on any of the enemy who might have drifted\nthrough the previous curtain of fire.\n\nIn the meantime Bill kept his reserves, a picked corps of a hundred men\n(the same that had accompanied Hart and myself in our fight with the Han\nsquadron) in the air, divided about equally among the \"kite-tails\" of\nfour ships.\n\nA final roll call, by units, companies, divisions and functions,\nestablished the fact that all our forces were in position. No Han\nactivity was reported, and no Han broadcasts indicated any suspicion of\nour expedition. Nor was there any indication that the Sinsings had any\nknowledge of the fate in store for them. The idling of rep-ray\ngenerators was reported from the center of their camp, obviously those\nof the ships the Hans had given them--the price of their treason to\ntheir race.\n\nAgain I gave the word, and Hearn passed on the order to his\nsubordinates.\n\nFar below us, and several miles to the right and left, the two barrage\nlines made their appearance. From the great height to which we had\nrisen, they appeared like lines of brilliant, winking lights, and the\ndetonations were muffled by the distances into a sort of rumbling,\ndistant thunder. Hearn and his assistants were very busy: measuring,\ncalculating, and snapping out ultrophone orders to unit commanders that\nresulted in the straightening of lines and the closing of gaps in the\nbarrage.\n\nThe White Division Boss reported the utmost confusion in the Sinsing\norganization. They were, as might be expected, an inefficient, loosely\ndisciplined gang, and repeated broadcasts for help to neighboring gangs.\nIgnoring the fact that the Mongolians had not used explosives for many\ngenerations, they nevertheless jumped at the conclusion that they were\nbeing raided by the Hans. Their frantic broadcasts persisted in this\nthought, despite the nervous electrophonic inquiries of the Hans\nthemselves, to whom the sound of the battle was evidently audible, and\nwho were trying to locate the trouble.\n\nAt this point, the swooper I had sent south toward the city went into\naction as a diversion, to keep the Hans at home. Its \"kite-tail\" loaded\nwith long-range gunners, using the most highly explosive rockets we had,\nhung invisible in the darkness of the sky and bombarded the city from a\ndistance of about five miles. With an entire city to shoot at, and the\nobject of creating as much commotion therein as possible, regardless of\nactual damage, the gunners had no difficulty in hitting the mark. I\ncould see the glow of the city and the stabbing flashes of exploding\nrockets. In the end, the Hans, uncertain as to what was going on, fell\nback on a defensive policy, and shot their \"hell cylinder,\" or wall of\nupturned disintegrator rays into operation. That, of course, ended our\nbombardment of them. The rays were a perfect defense, disintegrating our\nrockets as they were reached.\n\nIf they had not sent out ships before turning on the rays, and if they\nhad none within sufficient radius already in the air, all would be well.\n\nI queried Garlin on this, but he assured me Yellow Intelligence reported\nno indications of Han ships nearer than 800 miles. This would probably\ngive us a free hand for a while, since most of their instruments\nrecorded only imperfectly or not at all, through the death wall.\n\nRequisitioning one of the viewplates of the headquarters ship, and the\nservices of an expert operator, I instructed him to focus on our lines\nbelow. I wanted a close-up of the men in action.\n\nHe began to manipulate his controls and chaotic shadows moved rapidly\nacross the plate, fading in and out of focus, until he reached an\nadjustment that gave me a picture of the forest floor, apparently 100\nfeet wide, with the intervening branches and foliage of the trees\nappearing like shadows that melted into reality a few feet above the\nground.\n\nI watched one man setting up his long-gun with skillful speed. His lips\npursed slightly as though he were whistling, as he adjusted the tall\ntripod on which the long tube was balanced. Swiftly he twirled the knobs\ncontrolling the aim and elevation of his piece. Then, lifting a belt of\nammunition from the big box, which itself looked heavy enough to break\ndown the spindly tripod, he inserted the end of it in the lock of his\ntube and touched the proper combination of buttons.\n\nThen he stepped aside, and occupied himself with peering carefully\nthrough the trees ahead. Not even a tremor shook the tube, but I knew\nthat at intervals of something less than a second, it was discharging\nsmall projectiles which, traveling under their own continuously reduced\npower, were arching into the air, to fall precisely five miles ahead and\nexplode with the force of eight-inch shells, such as we used in the\nFirst World War.\n\nAnother gunner, fifty feet to the right of him, waved a hand and called\nout something to him. Then, picking up his own tube and tripod, he\ngauged the distance between the trees ahead of him, and the height of\ntheir lowest branches, and bending forward a bit, flexed his muscles and\nleaped lightly, some twenty-five feet. Another leap took him another\ntwenty feet or so, where he began to set up his piece.\n\nI ordered my observer then to switch to the barrage itself. He got a\nclose focus on it, but this showed little except a continuous series of\nblinding flashes, which, from the viewplate, lit up the entire interior\nof the ship. An eight-hundred-foot focus proved better. I had thought\nthat some of our French and American artillery of the 20th Century had\nachieved the ultimate in mathematical precision of fire, but I had never\nseen anything to equal the accuracy of that line of terrific explosions\nas it moved steadily forward, mowing down trees as a scythe cuts grass\n(or used to 500 years ago), literally churning up the earth and the\nsplintered, blasted remains of the forest giants, to a depth of from ten\nto twenty feet.\n\nBy now the two curtains of fire were nearing each other, lines of\nvibrant, shimmering, continuous, brilliant destruction, inevitably\nsqueezing the panic-stricken Sinsings between them.\n\nEven as I watched, a group of them, who had been making a futile effort\nto get their three rep-ray machines into the air, abandoned their\nefforts, and rushed forth into the milling mob.\n\nI queried the Control Boss sharply on the futility of this attempt of\ntheirs, and learned that the Hans, apparently in doubt as to what was\ngoing on, had continued to \"play safe,\" and broken off their power\nbroadcast, after ordering all their own ships east of the Alleghenies to\nthe ground, for fear these ships they had traded to the Sinsings might\nbe used against them.\n\nAgain I turned to my viewplate, which was still focussed on the central\nsection of the Sinsing works. The confusion of the traitors was entirely\nthat of fear, for our barrage had not yet reached them.\n\nSome of them set up their long-guns and fired at random over the barrage\nline, then gave it up. They realized that they had no target to shoot\nat, no way of knowing whether our gunners were a few hundred feet or\nseveral miles beyond it.\n\nTheir ultrophone men, of whom they did not have many, stood around in\ntense attitudes, their helmet phones strapped around their ears,\nnervously fingering the tuning controls at their belts. Unquestionably\nthey must have located some of our frequencies, and overheard many of\nour reports and orders. But they were confused and disorganized. If they\nhad an Ultrophone Boss they evidently were not reporting to him in an\norganized way.\n\nThey were beginning to draw back now before our advancing fire. With\nintermittent desperation, they began to shoot over our barrage again,\nand the explosions of their rockets flashed at widely scattered points\nbeyond. A few took distance \"pot shots.\"\n\nOddly enough it was our own forces that suffered the first casualties in\nthe battle. Some of these distance shots by chance registered hits,\nwhile our men were under strict orders not to exceed their barrage\ndistances.\n\nSeen upon the ultroscope viewplate, the battle looked as though it were\nbeing fought in daylight, perhaps on a cloudy day, while the explosions\nof the rockets appeared as flashes of extra brilliance.\n\nThe two barrage lines were not more than five hundred feet apart when\nthe Sinsings resorted to tactics we had not foreseen. We noticed first\nthat they began to lighten themselves by throwing away extra equipment.\nA few of them in their excitement threw away too much, and shot suddenly\ninto the air. Then a scattering few floated up gently, followed by\nincreasing numbers, while still others, preserving a weight balance,\njumped toward the closing barrages and leaped high, hoping to clear\nthem. Some succeeded. We saw others blown about like leaves in a\nwindstorm, to crumple and drift slowly down, or else to fall into the\nbarrage, their belts blown from their bodies.\n\nHowever, it was not part of our plan to allow a single one of them to\nescape and find his way to the Hans. I quickly passed the word to Bill\nHearn to have the alternate men in his line raise their barrages and\nheard him bark out a mathematical formula to the Unit Bosses.\n\nWe backed off our ships as the explosions climbed into the air in\nstagger formation until they reached a height of three miles. I don't\nbelieve any of the Sinsings who tried to float away to freedom\nsucceeded.\n\nBut we did know later, that a few who leaped the barrage got away and\nultimately reached Nu-yok.\n\nIt was those who managed to jump the barrage who gave us the most\ntrouble. With half of our long-guns turned aloft, I foresaw we would not\nhave enough to establish successive ground barrages and so ordered the\nbarrage back two miles, from which positions our \"curtains\" began to\nclose in again, this time, however, gauged to explode, not on contact,\nbut thirty feet in the air. This left little chance for the Sinsings to\nleap either over or under it.\n\nGradually, the two barrages approached each other until they finally\nmet, and in the grey dawn the battle ended.\n\nOur own casualties amounted to forty-seven men in the ground forces,\neighteen of whom had been slain in hand to hand fighting with the few of\nthe enemy who managed to reach our lines, and sixty-two in the crew and\n\"kite-tail\" force of swooper No. 4, which had been located by one of\nthe enemy's ultroscopes and brought down with long-gun fire.\n\nSince nearly every member of the Sinsing Gang had, so far as we knew,\nbeen killed, we considered the raid a great success.\n\nIt had, however, a far greater significance than this. To all of us who\ntook part in the expedition, the effectiveness of our barrage tactics\ndefinitely established a confidence in our ability to overcome the Hans.\n\nAs I pointed out to Wilma:\n\n\"It has been my belief all along, dear, that the American explosive\nrocket is a far more efficient weapon than the disintegrator ray of the\nHans, once we can train all our gangs to use it systematically and in\nco-ordinated fashion. As a weapon in the hands of a single individual,\nshooting at a mark in direct line of vision, the rocket-gun is inferior\nin destructive power to the dis ray, except as its range may be a little\ngreater. The trouble is that to date it has been used only as we used\nour rifles and shot guns in the 20th Century. The possibilities of its\nuse as artillery, in laying barrages that advance along the ground, or\nclimb into the air, are tremendous.\n\n\"The dis ray inevitably reveals its source of emanation. The rocket gun\ndoes not. The dis ray can reach its target only in a straight line. The\nrocket may be made to travel in an arc, over intervening obstacles, to\nan unseen target.\n\n\"Nor must we forget that our ultronists now are promising us a perfect\nshield against the dis ray in inertron.\"\n\n\"I tremble though, Tony dear, when I think of the horrors that are ahead\nof us. The Hans are clever. They will develop defenses against our new\ntactics. And they are sure to mass against us not only the full force of\ntheir power in America, but the united forces of the World Empire. They\nare a cowardly race in one sense, but clever as the very Devils in Hell,\nand inheritors of a calm, ruthless, vicious persistency.\"\n\n\"Nevertheless,\" I prophesied, \"the Finger of Doom points squarely at\nthem today, and unless you and I are killed in the struggle, we shall\nlive to see America blast the Yellow Blight from the face of the Earth.\"\n\n\nTHE END.\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber's Note:\n\n    This etext was produced from _Amazing Stories_ August 1928.\n    Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.\n    copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and\n    typographical errors have been corrected without note.\n\n\n\n\n\nEnd of Project Gutenberg's Armageddon--2419 A.D., by Philip Francis Nowlan\n\nNow, answer the question based on the story asconcisely as you can, using a single phrase if possible. Do not provide any explanation.\n\nQuestion: What kind of business was Anthony Rogers working for in 1927?\n\nAnswer:"}
{"question_id": 132, "category": "longbench_narrativeqa", "reference": ["Baron Conrad killed his uncle, Baron Frederick."], "prompt": "You are given a story, which can be either a novel or a movie script, and a question. Answer the question asconcisely as you can, using a single phrase if possible. Do not provide any explanation.\n\nStory: Produced by Angus Christian\n\n\n\n\n\nOTTO OF THE SILVER HAND\n\nBy Howard Pyle\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n     I.    The Dragon's House,\n     II.   How the Baron Went Forth to Shear,\n     III.  How the Baron Came Home Shorn,\n     IV.   The White Cross on the Hill,\n     V.    How Otto Dwelt at St. Michaelsburg,\n     VI.   How Otto Lived in the Dragon's House,\n     VII.  The Red Cock Crows on Drachenhausen,\n     VIII. In the House of the Dragon Scorner,\n     IX.   How One-eyed Hans Came to Trutz-Drachen,\n     X.    How Hans Brought Terror to the Kitchen,\n     XI.   How Otto was Saved,\n     XII.  A Ride for Life,\n     XIII. How Baron Conrad Held the Bridge,\n     XIV.  How Otto Saw the Great Emperor,\n\n\n\n\nFOREWORD.\n\nBetween the far away past history of the world, and that which lies near\nto us; in the time when the wisdom of the ancient times was dead and\nhad passed away, and our own days of light had not yet come, there lay a\ngreat black gulf in human history, a gulf of ignorance, of superstition,\nof cruelty, and of wickedness.\n\nThat time we call the dark or middle ages.\n\nFew records remain to us of that dreadful period in our world's history,\nand we only know of it through broken and disjointed fragments that have\nbeen handed down to us through the generations.\n\nYet, though the world's life then was so wicked and black, there yet\nremained a few good men and women here and there (mostly in peaceful\nand quiet monasteries, far from the thunder and the glare of the worlds\nbloody battle), who knew the right and the truth and lived according to\nwhat they knew; who preserved and tenderly cared for the truths that the\ndear Christ taught, and lived and died for in Palestine so long ago.\n\nThis tale that I am about to tell is of a little boy who lived and\nsuffered in those dark middle ages; of how he saw both the good and the\nbad of men, and of how, by gentleness and love and not by strife and\nhatred, he came at last to stand above other men and to be looked up to\nby all. And should you follow the story to the end, I hope you may find\nit a pleasure, as I have done, to ramble through those dark ancient\ncastles, to lie with little Otto and Brother John in the high\nbelfry-tower, or to sit with them in the peaceful quiet of the sunny\nold monastery garden, for, of all the story, I love best those early\npeaceful years that little Otto spent in the dear old White Cross on the\nHill.\n\nPoor little Otto's life was a stony and a thorny pathway, and it is well\nfor all of us nowadays that we walk it in fancy and not in truth.\n\n\n\n\nI. The Dragon's House.\n\nUp from the gray rocks, rising sheer and bold and bare, stood the walls\nand towers of Castle Drachenhausen. A great gate-way, with a heavy\niron-pointed portcullis hanging suspended in the dim arch above, yawned\nblackly upon the bascule or falling drawbridge that spanned a chasm\nbetween the blank stone walls and the roadway that winding down the\nsteep rocky slope to the little valley just beneath. There in the lap of\nthe hills around stood the wretched straw-thatched huts of the peasants\nbelonging to the castle--miserable serfs who, half timid, half fierce,\ntilled their poor patches of ground, wrenching from the hard soil barely\nenough to keep body and soul together. Among those vile hovels played\nthe little children like foxes about their dens, their wild, fierce eyes\npeering out from under a mat of tangled yellow hair.\n\nBeyond these squalid huts lay the rushing, foaming river, spanned by a\nhigh, rude, stone bridge where the road from the castle crossed it, and\nbeyond the river stretched the great, black forest, within whose gloomy\ndepths the savage wild beasts made their lair, and where in winter time\nthe howling wolves coursed their flying prey across the moonlit snow and\nunder the net-work of the black shadows from the naked boughs above.\n\nThe watchman in the cold, windy bartizan or watch-tower that clung to\nthe gray walls above the castle gateway, looked from his narrow window,\nwhere the wind piped and hummed, across the tree-tops that rolled in\nendless billows of green, over hill and over valley to the blue and\ndistant slope of the Keiserberg, where, on the mountain side, glimmered\nfar away the walls of Castle Trutz-Drachen.\n\nWithin the massive stone walls through which the gaping gateway led,\nthree great cheerless brick buildings, so forbidding that even the\nyellow sunlight could not light them into brightness, looked down, with\nrow upon row of windows, upon three sides of the bleak, stone courtyard.\nBack of and above them clustered a jumble of other buildings, tower and\nturret, one high-peaked roof overtopping another.\n\nThe great house in the centre was the Baron's Hall, the part to the left\nwas called the Roderhausen; between the two stood a huge square pile,\nrising dizzily up into the clear air high above the rest--the great\nMelchior Tower.\n\nAt the top clustered a jumble of buildings hanging high aloft in the\nwindy space a crooked wooden belfry, a tall, narrow watch-tower, and a\nrude wooden house that clung partly to the roof of the great tower and\npartly to the walls.\n\nFrom the chimney of this crazy hut a thin thread of smoke would now and\nthen rise into the air, for there were folk living far up in that empty,\nairy desert, and oftentimes wild, uncouth little children were seen\nplaying on the edge of the dizzy height, or sitting with their bare\nlegs hanging down over the sheer depths, as they gazed below at what was\ngoing on in the court-yard. There they sat, just as little children in\nthe town might sit upon their father's door-step; and as the sparrows\nmight fly around the feet of the little town children, so the circling\nflocks of rooks and daws flew around the feet of these air-born\ncreatures.\n\nIt was Schwartz Carl and his wife and little ones who lived far up there\nin the Melchior Tower, for it overlooked the top of the hill behind the\ncastle and so down into the valley upon the further side. There, day\nafter day, Schwartz Carl kept watch upon the gray road that ran like a\nribbon through the valley, from the rich town of Gruenstaldt to the rich\ntown of Staffenburgen, where passed merchant caravans from the one to\nthe other--for the lord of Drachenhausen was a robber baron.\n\nDong! Dong! The great alarm bell would suddenly ring out from the belfry\nhigh up upon the Melchior Tower. Dong! Dong! Till the rooks and daws\nwhirled clamoring and screaming. Dong! Dong! Till the fierce wolf-hounds\nin the rocky kennels behind the castle stables howled dismally in\nanswer. Dong! Dong!--Dong! Dong!\n\nThen would follow a great noise and uproar and hurry in the castle\ncourt-yard below; men shouting and calling to one another, the ringing\nof armor, and the clatter of horses' hoofs upon the hard stone. With the\ncreaking and groaning of the windlass the iron-pointed portcullis would\nbe slowly raised, and with a clank and rattle and clash of iron chains\nthe drawbridge would fall crashing. Then over it would thunder horse and\nman, clattering away down the winding, stony pathway, until the great\nforest would swallow them, and they would be gone.\n\nThen for a while peace would fall upon the castle courtyard, the cock\nwould crow, the cook would scold a lazy maid, and Gretchen, leaning out\nof a window, would sing a snatch of a song, just as though it were a\npeaceful farm-house, instead of a den of robbers.\n\nMaybe it would be evening before the men would return once more. Perhaps\none would have a bloody cloth bound about his head, perhaps one would\ncarry his arm in a sling; perhaps one--maybe more than one--would be\nleft behind, never to return again, and soon forgotten by all excepting\nsome poor woman who would weep silently in the loneliness of her daily\nwork.\n\nNearly always the adventurers would bring back with them pack-horses\nladen with bales of goods. Sometimes, besides these, they would return\nwith a poor soul, his hands tied behind his back and his feet beneath\nthe horse's body, his fur cloak and his flat cap wofully awry. A while\nhe would disappear in some gloomy cell of the dungeon-keep, until an\nenvoy would come from the town with a fat purse, when his ransom would\nbe paid, the dungeon would disgorge him, and he would be allowed to go\nupon his way again.\n\nOne man always rode beside Baron Conrad in his expeditions and\nadventures a short, deep-chested, broad-shouldered man, with sinewy arms\nso long that when he stood his hands hung nearly to his knees.\n\nHis coarse, close-clipped hair came so low upon his brow that only a\nstrip of forehead showed between it and his bushy, black eyebrows. One\neye was blind; the other twinkled and gleamed like a spark under the\npenthouse of his brows. Many folk said that the one-eyed Hans had drunk\nbeer with the Hill-man, who had given him the strength of ten, for he\ncould bend an iron spit like a hazel twig, and could lift a barrel of\nwine from the floor to his head as easily as though it were a basket of\neggs.\n\nAs for the one-eyed Hans he never said that he had not drunk beer with\nthe Hill-man, for he liked the credit that such reports gave him with\nthe other folk. And so, like a half savage mastiff, faithful to death\nto his master, but to him alone, he went his sullen way and lived his\nsullen life within the castle walls, half respected, half feared by the\nother inmates, for it was dangerous trifling with the one-eyed Hans.\n\n\n\n\nII. How the Baron went Forth to Shear.\n\nBaron Conrad and Baroness Matilda sat together at their morning meal\nbelow their raised seats stretched the long, heavy wooden table, loaded\nwith coarse food--black bread, boiled cabbage, bacon, eggs, a great\nchine from a wild boar, sausages, such as we eat nowadays, and flagons\nand jars of beer and wine, Along the board sat ranged in the order of\nthe household the followers and retainers. Four or five slatternly women\nand girls served the others as they fed noisily at the table, moving\nhere and there behind the men with wooden or pewter dishes of food, now\nand then laughing at the jests that passed or joining in the talk. A\nhuge fire blazed and crackled and roared in the great open fireplace,\nbefore which were stretched two fierce, shaggy, wolfish-looking hounds.\nOutside, the rain beat upon the roof or ran trickling from the eaves,\nand every now and then a chill draught of wind would breathe through the\nopen windows of the great black dining-hall and set the fire roaring.\n\nAlong the dull-gray wall of stone hung pieces of armor, and swords and\nlances, and great branching antlers of the stag. Overhead arched the\nrude, heavy, oaken beams, blackened with age and smoke, and underfoot\nwas a chill pavement of stone.\n\nUpon Baron Conrad's shoulder leaned the pale, slender, yellow-haired\nBaroness, the only one in all the world with whom the fierce lord of\nDrachenhausen softened to gentleness, the only one upon whom his savage\nbrows looked kindly, and to whom his harsh voice softened with love.\n\nThe Baroness was talking to her husband in a low voice, as he looked\ndown into her pale face, with its gentle blue eyes.\n\n\"And wilt thou not, then,\" said she, \"do that one thing for me?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" he growled, in his deep voice, \"I cannot promise thee never more\nto attack the towns-people in the valley over yonder. How else could I\nlive an' I did not take from the fat town hogs to fill our own larder?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said the Baroness, \"thou couldst live as some others do, for all\ndo not rob the burgher folk as thou dost. Alas! mishap will come upon\nthee some day, and if thou shouldst be slain, what then would come of\nme?\"\n\n\"Prut,\" said the Baron, \"thy foolish fears\" But he laid his rough, hairy\nhand softly upon the Baroness' head and stroked her yellow hair.\n\n\"For my sake, Conrad,\" whispered the Baroness.\n\nA pause followed. The Baron sat looking thoughtfully down into the\nBaroness' face. A moment more, and he might have promised what she\nbesought; a moment more, and he might have been saved all the bitter\ntrouble that was to follow. But it was not to be.\n\nSuddenly a harsh sound broke the quietness of all into a confusion of\nnoises. Dong! Dong!--it was the great alarm-bell from Melchior's Tower.\n\nThe Baron started at the sound. He sat for a moment or two with his hand\nclinched upon the arm of his seat as though about to rise, then he sunk\nback into his chair again.\n\nAll the others had risen tumultuously from the table, and now stood\nlooking at him, awaiting his orders.\n\n\"For my sake, Conrad,\" said the Baroness again.\n\nDong! Dong! rang the alarm-bell. The Baron sat with his eyes bent upon\nthe floor, scowling blackly.\n\nThe Baroness took his hand in both of hers. \"For my sake,\" she pleaded,\nand the tears filled her blue eyes as she looked up at him, \"do not go\nthis time.\"\n\nFrom the courtyard without came the sound of horses' hoofs clashing\nagainst the stone pavement, and those in the hall stood watching and\nwondering at this strange delay of the Lord Baron. Just then the door\nopened and one came pushing past the rest; it was the one-eyed Hans.\nHe came straight to where the Baron sat, and, leaning over, whispered\nsomething into his master's ear.\n\n\"For my sake,\" implored the Baroness again; but the scale was turned.\nThe Baron pushed back his chair heavily and rose to his feet. \"Forward!\"\nhe roared, in a voice of thunder, and a great shout went up in answer as\nhe strode clanking down the hall and out of the open door.\n\nThe Baroness covered her face with her hands and wept.\n\n\"Never mind, little bird,\" said old Ursela, the nurse, soothingly; \"he\nwill come back to thee again as he has come back to thee before.\"\n\nBut the poor young Baroness continued weeping with her face buried in\nher hands, because he had not done that thing she had asked.\n\nA white young face framed in yellow hair looked out into the courtyard\nfrom a window above; but if Baron Conrad of Drachenhausen saw it from\nbeneath the bars of his shining helmet, he made no sign.\n\n\"Forward,\" he cried again.\n\nDown thundered the drawbridge, and away they rode with clashing hoofs\nand ringing armor through the gray shroud of drilling rain.\n\nThe day had passed and the evening had come, and the Baroness and her\nwomen sat beside a roaring fire. All were chattering and talking and\nlaughing but two--the fair young Baroness and old Ursela; the one sat\nlistening, listening, listening, the other sat with her chin resting in\nthe palm of her hand, silently watching her young mistress. The night\nwas falling gray and chill, when suddenly the clear notes of a bugle\nrang from without the castle walls. The young Baroness started, and the\nrosy light flashed up into her pale cheeks.\n\n\"Yes, good,\" said old Ursela; \"the red fox has come back to his den\nagain, and I warrant he brings a fat town goose in his mouth; now we'll\nhave fine clothes to wear, and thou another gold chain to hang about thy\npretty neck.\"\n\nThe young Baroness laughed merrily at the old woman's speech. \"This\ntime,\" said she, \"I will choose a string of pearls like that one my aunt\nused to wear, and which I had about my neck when Conrad first saw me.\"\n\nMinute after minute passed; the Baroness sat nervously playing with a\nbracelet of golden beads about her wrist. \"How long he stays,\" said she.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Ursela; \"but it is not cousin wish that holds him by the\ncoat.\"\n\nAs she spoke, a door banged in the passageway without, and the ring of\niron footsteps sounded upon the stone floor. Clank! Clank! Clank!\n\nThe Baroness rose to her feet, her face all alight. The door opened;\nthen the flush of joy faded away and the face grew white, white, white.\nOne hand clutched the back of the bench whereon she had been sitting,\nthe other hand pressed tightly against her side.\n\nIt was Hans the one-eyed who stood in the doorway, and black trouble sat\non his brow; all were looking at him waiting.\n\n\"Conrad,\" whispered the Baroness, at last. \"Where is Conrad? Where is\nyour master?\" and even her lips were white as she spoke.\n\nThe one-eyed Hans said nothing.\n\nJust then came the noise of men s voices in the corridor and the shuffle\nand scuffle of feet carrying a heavy load. Nearer and nearer they came,\nand one-eyed Hans stood aside. Six men came struggling through the\ndoorway, carrying a litter, and on the litter lay the great Baron\nConrad. The flaming torch thrust into the iron bracket against the wall\nflashed up with the draught of air from the open door, and the light\nfell upon the white face and the closed eyes, and showed upon his body\narmor a great red stain that was not the stain of rust.\n\nSuddenly Ursela cried out in a sharp, shrill voice, \"Catch her, she\nfalls!\"\n\nIt was the Baroness.\n\nThen the old crone turned fiercely upon the one-eyed Hans. \"Thou fool!\"\nshe cried, \"why didst thou bring him here? Thou hast killed thy lady!\"\n\n\"I did not know,\" said the one-eyed Hans, stupidly.\n\n\n\n\nIII. How the Baron came Home Shorn.\n\nBut Baron Conrad was not dead. For days he lay upon his hard bed, now\nmuttering incoherent words beneath his red beard, now raving fiercely\nwith the fever of his wound. But one day he woke again to the things\nabout him.\n\nHe turned his head first to the one side and then to the other; there\nsat Schwartz Carl and the one-eyed Hans. Two or three other retainers\nstood by a great window that looked out into the courtyard beneath,\njesting and laughing together in low tones, and one lay upon the heavy\noaken bench that stood along by the wall snoring in his sleep.\n\n\"Where is your lady?\" said the Baron, presently; \"and why is she not\nwith me at this time?\"\n\nThe man that lay upon the bench started up at the sound of his voice,\nand those at the window came hurrying to his bedside. But Schwartz Carl\nand the one-eyed Hans looked at one another, and neither of them spoke.\nThe Baron saw the look and in it read a certain meaning that brought\nhim to his elbow, though only to sink back upon his pillow again with a\ngroan.\n\n\"Why do you not answer me?\" said he at last, in a hollow voice; then\nto the one-eyed Hans, \"Hast no tongue, fool, that thou standest gaping\nthere like a fish? Answer me, where is thy mistress?\"\n\n\"I--I do not know,\" stammered poor Hans.\n\nFor a while the Baron lay silently looking from one face to the other,\nthen he spoke again. \"How long have I been lying here?\" said he.\n\n\"A sennight, my lord,\" said Master Rudolph, the steward, who had come\ninto the room and who now stood among the others at the bedside.\n\n\"A sennight,\" repeated the Baron, in a low voice, and then to Master\nRudolph, \"And has the Baroness been often beside me in that time?\"\nMaster Rudolph hesitated. \"Answer me,\" said the Baron, harshly.\n\n\"Not--not often,\" said Master Rudolph, hesitatingly.\n\nThe Baron lay silent for a long time. At last he passed his hands over\nhis face and held them there for a minute, then of a sudden, before\nanyone knew what he was about to do, he rose upon his elbow and then sat\nupright upon the bed. The green wound broke out afresh and a dark red\nspot grew and spread upon the linen wrappings; his face was drawn and\nhaggard with the pain of his moving, and his eyes wild and bloodshot.\nGreat drops of sweat gathered and stood upon his forehead as he sat\nthere swaying slightly from side to side.\n\n\"My shoes,\" said he, hoarsely.\n\nMaster Rudolph stepped forward. \"But, my Lord Baron,\" he began and then\nstopped short, for the Baron shot him such a look that his tongue stood\nstill in his head.\n\nHans saw that look out of his one eye. Down he dropped upon his knees\nand, fumbling under the bed, brought forth a pair of soft leathern\nshoes, which he slipped upon the Baron's feet and then laced the thongs\nabove the instep.\n\n\"Your shoulder,\" said the Baron. He rose slowly to his feet, gripping\nHans in the stress of his agony until the fellow winced again. For a\nmoment he stood as though gathering strength, then doggedly started\nforth upon that quest which he had set upon himself.\n\nAt the door he stopped for a moment as though overcome by his weakness,\nand there Master Nicholas, his cousin, met him; for the steward had sent\none of the retainers to tell the old man what the Baron was about to do.\n\n\"Thou must go back again, Conrad,\" said Master Nicholas; \"thou art not\nfit to be abroad.\"\n\nThe Baron answered him never a word, but he glared at him from out of\nhis bloodshot eyes and ground his teeth together. Then he started forth\nagain upon his way.\n\nDown the long hall he went, slowly and laboriously, the others following\nsilently behind him, then up the steep winding stairs, step by step,\nnow and then stopping to lean against the wall. So he reached a long\nand gloomy passageway lit only by the light of a little window at the\nfurther end.\n\nHe stopped at the door of one of the rooms that opened into this\npassage-way, stood for a moment, then he pushed it open.\n\nNo one was within but old Ursela, who sat crooning over a fire with a\nbundle upon her knees. She did not see the Baron or know that he was\nthere.\n\n\"Where is your lady?\" said he, in a hollow voice.\n\nThen the old nurse looked up with a start. \"Jesu bless us,\" cried she,\nand crossed herself.\n\n\"Where is your lady?\" said the Baron again, in the same hoarse voice;\nand then, not waiting for an answer, \"Is she dead?\"\n\nThe old woman looked at him for a minute blinking her watery eyes, and\nthen suddenly broke into a shrill, long-drawn wail. The Baron needed to\nhear no more.\n\nAs though in answer to the old woman's cry, a thin piping complaint came\nfrom the bundle in her lap.\n\nAt the sound the red blood flashed up into the Baron's face. \"What\nis that you have there?\" said he, pointing to the bundle upon the old\nwoman's knees.\n\nShe drew back the coverings and there lay a poor, weak, little baby,\nthat once again raised its faint reedy pipe.\n\n\"It is your son,\" said Ursela, \"that the dear Baroness left behind her\nwhen the holy angels took her to Paradise. She blessed him and called\nhim Otto before she left us.\"\n\n\n\n\nIV. The White Cross on the Hill.\n\nHere the glassy waters of the River Rhine, holding upon its bosom a\nmimic picture of the blue sky and white clouds floating above, runs\nsmoothly around a jutting point of land, St. Michaelsburg, rising from\nthe reedy banks of the stream, sweeps up with a smooth swell until\nit cuts sharp and clear against the sky. Stubby vineyards covered its\nearthy breast, and field and garden and orchard crowned its brow, where\nlay the Monastery of St. Michaelsburg--\"The White Cross on the Hill.\"\nThere within the white walls, where the warm yellow sunlight slept, all\nwas peaceful quietness, broken only now and then by the crowing of\nthe cock or the clamorous cackle of a hen, the lowing of kine or the\nbleating of goats, a solitary voice in prayer, the faint accord of\ndistant singing, or the resonant toll of the monastery bell from the\nhigh-peaked belfry that overlooked the hill and valley and the smooth,\nfar-winding stream. No other sounds broke the stillness, for in this\npeaceful haven was never heard the clash of armor, the ring of iron-shod\nhoofs, or the hoarse call to arms.\n\nAll men were not wicked and cruel and fierce in that dark, far-away age;\nall were not robbers and terror-spreading tyrants, even in that time\nwhen men's hands were against their neighbors, and war and rapine dwelt\nin place of peace and justice.\n\nAbbot Otto, of St. Michaelsburg, was a gentle, patient, pale-faced old\nman; his white hands were soft and smooth, and no one would have thought\nthat they could have known the harsh touch of sword-hilt and lance. And\nyet, in the days of the Emperor Frederick--the grandson of the great\nRed-beard--no one stood higher in the prowess of arms than he. But all\nat once--for why, no man could tell--a change came over him, and in the\nflower of his youth and fame and growing power he gave up everything\nin life and entered the quiet sanctuary of that white monastery on the\nhill-side, so far away from the tumult and the conflict of the world in\nwhich he had lived.\n\nSome said that it was because the lady he had loved had loved his\nbrother, and that when they were married Otto of Wolbergen had left the\nchurch with a broken heart.\n\nBut such stories are old songs that have been sung before.\n\nClatter! clatter! Jingle! jingle! It was a full-armed knight that came\nriding up the steep hill road that wound from left to right and right to\nleft amid the vineyards on the slopes of St. Michaelsburg. Polished helm\nand corselet blazed in the noon sunlight, for no knight in those days\ndared to ride the roads except in full armor. In front of him the\nsolitary knight carried a bundle wrapped in the folds of his coarse gray\ncloak.\n\nIt was a sorely sick man that rode up the heights of St. Michaelsburg.\nHis head hung upon his breast through the faintness of weariness and\npain; for it was the Baron Conrad.\n\nHe had left his bed of sickness that morning, had saddled his horse in\nthe gray dawn with his own hands, and had ridden away into the misty\ntwilight of the forest without the knowledge of anyone excepting the\nporter, who, winking and blinking in the bewilderment of his broken\nslumber, had opened the gates to the sick man, hardly knowing what he\nwas doing, until he beheld his master far away, clattering down the\nsteep bridle-path.\n\nEight leagues had he ridden that day with neither a stop nor a stay; but\nnow at last the end of his journey had come, and he drew rein under the\nshade of the great wooden gateway of St. Michaelsburg.\n\nHe reached up to the knotted rope and gave it a pull, and from within\nsounded the answering ring of the porter's bell. By and by a little\nwicket opened in the great wooden portals, and the gentle, wrinkled face\nof old Brother Benedict, the porter, peeped out at the strange iron-clad\nvisitor and the great black war-horse, streaked and wet with the sweat\nof the journey, flecked and dappled with flakes of foam. A few words\npassed between them, and then the little window was closed again; and\nwithin, the shuffling pat of the sandalled feet sounded fainter and\nfainter, as Brother Benedict bore the message from Baron Conrad to Abbot\nOtto, and the mail-clad figure was left alone, sitting there as silent\nas a statue.\n\nBy and by the footsteps sounded again; there came a noise of clattering\nchains and the rattle of the key in the lock, and the rasping of the\nbolts dragged back. Then the gate swung slowly open, and Baron Conrad\nrode into the shelter of the White Cross, and as the hoofs of his\nwar-horse clashed upon the stones of the courtyard within, the wooden\ngate swung slowly to behind him.\n\nAbbot Otto stood by the table when Baron Conrad entered the high-vaulted\nroom from the farther end. The light from the oriel window behind the\nold man shed broken rays of light upon him, and seemed to frame his thin\ngray hairs with a golden glory. His white, delicate hand rested upon the\ntable beside him, and upon some sheets of parchment covered with rows of\nancient Greek writing which he had been engaged in deciphering.\n\nClank! clank! clank! Baron Conrad strode across the stone floor, and\nthen stopped short in front of the good old man.\n\n\"What dost thou seek here, my son?\" said the Abbot.\n\n\"I seek sanctuary for my son and thy brother's grandson,\" said the Baron\nConrad, and he flung back the folds of his cloak and showed the face of\nthe sleeping babe.\n\nFor a while the Abbot said nothing, but stood gazing dreamily at\nthe baby. After a while he looked up. \"And the child's mother,\" said\nhe--\"what hath she to say at this?\"\n\n\"She hath naught to say,\" said Baron Conrad, hoarsely, and then stopped\nshort in his speech. \"She is dead,\" said he, at last, in a husky voice,\n\"and is with God's angels in paradise.\"\n\nThe Abbot looked intently in the Baron's face. \"So!\" said he, under his\nbreath, and then for the first time noticed how white and drawn was the\nBaron's face. \"Art sick thyself?\" he asked.\n\n\"Ay,\" said the Baron, \"I have come from death's door. But that is no\nmatter. Wilt thou take this little babe into sanctuary? My house is a\nvile, rough place, and not fit for such as he, and his mother with the\nblessed saints in heaven.\" And once more Conrad of Drachenhausen's face\nbegan twitching with the pain of his thoughts.\n\n\"Yes,\" said the old man, gently, \"he shall live here,\" and he stretched\nout his hands and took the babe. \"Would,\" said he, \"that all the little\nchildren in these dark times might be thus brought to the house of God,\nand there learn mercy and peace, instead of rapine and war.\"\n\nFor a while he stood looking down in silence at the baby in his arms,\nbut with his mind far away upon other things. At last he roused himself\nwith a start. \"And thou,\" said he to the Baron Conrad--\"hath not thy\nheart been chastened and softened by this? Surely thou wilt not go back\nto thy old life of rapine and extortion?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Baron Conrad, gruffly, \"I will rob the city swine no longer,\nfor that was the last thing that my dear one asked of me.\"\n\nThe old Abbot's face lit up with a smile. \"I am right glad that thy\nheart was softened, and that thou art willing at last to cease from war\nand violence.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" cried the Baron, roughly, \"I said nothing of ceasing from war. By\nheaven, no! I will have revenge!\" And he clashed his iron foot upon the\nfloor and clinched his fists and ground his teeth together. \"Listen,\"\nsaid he, \"and I will tell thee how my troubles happened. A fortnight ago\nI rode out upon an expedition against a caravan of fat burghers in the\nvalley of Gruenhoffen. They outnumbered us many to one, but city swine\nsuch as they are not of the stuff to stand against our kind for a long\ntime. Nevertheless, while the men-at-arms who guarded the caravan were\nstaying us with pike and cross-bow from behind a tree which they had\nfelled in front of a high bridge the others had driven the pack-horses\noff, so that by the time we had forced the bridge they were a league\nor more away. We pushed after them as hard as we were able, but when we\ncame up with them we found that they had been joined by Baron Frederick\nof Trutz-Drachen, to whom for three years and more the burghers of\nGruenstadt have been paying a tribute for his protection against others.\nThen again they made a stand, and this time the Baron Frederick himself\nwas with them. But though the dogs fought well, we were forcing them\nback, and might have got the better of them, had not my horse stumbled\nupon a sloping stone, and so fell and rolled over upon me. While I lay\nthere with my horse upon me, Baron Frederick ran me down with his lance,\nand gave me that foul wound that came so near to slaying me--and did\nslay my dear wife. Nevertheless, my men were able to bring me out from\nthat press and away, and we had bitten the Trutz-Drachen dogs so deep\nthat they were too sore to follow us, and so let us go our way in peace.\nBut when those fools of mine brought me to my castle they bore me lying\nupon a litter to my wife's chamber. There she beheld me, and, thinking\nme dead, swooned a death-swoon, so that she only lived long enough to\nbless her new-born babe and name it Otto, for you, her father's brother.\nBut, by heavens! I will have revenge, root and branch, upon that vile\ntribe, the Roderburgs of Trutz-Drachen. Their great-grandsire built that\ncastle in scorn of Baron Casper in the old days; their grandsire slew my\nfather's grandsire; Baron Nicholas slew two of our kindred; and now this\nBaron Frederick gives me that foul wound and kills my dear wife through\nmy body.\" Here the Baron stopped short; then of a sudden, shaking his\nfist above his head, he cried out in his hoarse voice: \"I swear by all\nthe saints in heaven, either the red cock shall crow over the roof of\nTrutz-Drachen or else it shall crow over my house! The black dog shall\nsit on Baron Frederick's shoulders or else he shall sit on mine!\" Again\nhe stopped, and fixing his blazing eyes upon the old man, \"Hearest thou\nthat, priest?\" said he, and broke into a great boisterous laugh.\n\nAbbot Otto sighed heavily, but he tried no further to persuade the other\ninto different thoughts.\n\n\"Thou art wounded,\" said he, at last, in a gentle voice; \"at least stay\nhere with us until thou art healed.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said the Baron, roughly, \"I will tarry no longer than to hear\nthee promise to care for my child.\"\n\n\"I promise,\" said the Abbot; \"but lay aside thy armor, and rest.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said the Baron, \"I go back again to-day.\"\n\nAt this the Abbot cried out in amazement: \"Sure thou, wounded man, would\nnot take that long journey without a due stay for resting! Think! Night\nwill be upon thee before thou canst reach home again, and the forests\nare beset with wolves.\"\n\nThe Baron laughed. \"Those are not the wolves I fear,\" said he. \"Urge me\nno further, I must return to-night; yet if thou hast a mind to do me a\nkindness thou canst give me some food to eat and a flask of your golden\nMichaelsburg; beyond these, I ask no further favor of any man, be he\npriest or layman.\"\n\n\"What comfort I can give thee thou shalt have,\" said the Abbot, in his\npatient voice, and so left the room to give the needful orders, bearing\nthe babe with him.\n\n\n\n\nV. How Otto Dwelt at St. Michaelsburg.\n\nSo the poor, little, motherless waif lived among the old monks at the\nWhite Cross on the hill, thriving and growing apace until he had reached\neleven or twelve years of age; a slender, fair-haired little fellow,\nwith a strange, quiet serious manner.\n\n\"Poor little child!\" Old Brother Benedict would sometimes say to the\nothers, \"poor little child! The troubles in which he was born must have\nbroken his wits like a glass cup. What think ye he said to me to-day?\n'Dear Brother Benedict,' said he, 'dost thou shave the hair off of the\ntop of thy head so that the dear God may see thy thoughts the better?'\nThink of that now!\" and the good old man shook with silent laughter.\n\nWhen such talk came to the good Father Abbot's ears, he smiled quietly\nto himself. \"It may be,\" said he, \"that the wisdom of little children\nflies higher than our heavy wits can follow.\"\n\nAt least Otto was not slow with his studies, and Brother Emmanuel,\nwho taught him his lessons, said more than once that, if his wits were\ncracked in other ways, they were sound enough in Latin.\n\nOtto, in a quaint, simple way which belonged to him, was gentle\nand obedient to all. But there was one among the Brethren of St.\nMichaelsburg whom he loved far above all the rest--Brother John, a poor\nhalf-witted fellow, of some twenty-five or thirty years of age. When\na very little child, he had fallen from his nurse's arms and hurt his\nhead, and as he grew up into boyhood, and showed that his wits had been\naddled by his fall, his family knew not what else to do with him, and\nso sent him off to the Monastery of St. Michaelsburg, where he lived\nhis simple, witless life upon a sort of sufferance, as though he were a\ntame, harmless animal.\n\nWhile Otto was still a little baby, he had been given into Brother\nJohn's care. Thereafter, and until Otto had grown old enough to care for\nhimself, poor Brother John never left his little charge, night or day.\nOftentimes the good Father Abbot, coming into the garden, where he loved\nto walk alone in his meditations, would find the poor, simple Brother\nsitting under the shade of the pear-tree, close to the bee-hives,\nrocking the little baby in his arms, singing strange, crazy songs to\nit, and gazing far away into the blue, empty sky with his curious, pale\neyes.\n\nAlthough, as Otto grew up into boyhood, his lessons and his tasks\nseparated him from Brother John, the bond between them seemed to grow\nstronger rather than weaker. During the hours that Otto had for his own\nthey were scarcely ever apart. Down in the vineyard, where the monks\nwere gathering the grapes for the vintage, in the garden, or in the\nfields, the two were always seen together, either wandering hand in\nhand, or seated in some shady nook or corner.\n\nBut most of all they loved to lie up in the airy wooden belfry; the\ngreat gaping bell hanging darkly above them, the mouldering cross-beams\nglimmering far up under the dim shadows of the roof, where dwelt a great\nbrown owl that, unfrightened at their familiar presence, stared down at\nthem with his round, solemn eyes. Below them stretched the white walls\nof the garden, beyond them the vineyard, and beyond that again the far\nshining river, that seemed to Otto's mind to lead into wonder-land.\nThere the two would lie upon the belfry floor by the hour, talking\ntogether of the strangest things.\n\n\"I saw the dear Angel Gabriel again yester morn,\" said Brother John.\n\n\"So!\" says Otto, seriously; \"and where was that?\"\n\n\"It was out in the garden, in the old apple-tree,\" said Brother John. \"I\nwas walking there, and my wits were running around in the grass like a\nmouse. What heard I but a wonderful sound of singing, and it was like\nthe hum of a great bee, only sweeter than honey. So I looked up into the\ntree, and there I saw two sparks. I thought at first that they were\ntwo stars that had fallen out of heaven; but what think you they were,\nlittle child?\"\n\n\"I do not know,\" said Otto, breathlessly.\n\n\"They were angel's eyes,\" said Brother John; and he smiled in the\nstrangest way, as he gazed up into the blue sky. \"So I looked at the two\nsparks and felt happy, as one does in spring time when the cold weather\nis gone, and the warm sun shines, and the cuckoo sings again. Then,\nby-and-by, I saw the face to which the eyes belonged. First, it shone\nwhite and thin like the moon in the daylight; but it grew brighter and\nbrighter, until it hurt one's eyes to look at it, as though it had been\nthe blessed sun itself. Angel Gabriel's hand was as white as silver, and\nin it he held a green bough with blossoms, like those that grow on the\nthorn bush. As for his robe, it was all of one piece, and finer than the\nFather Abbot's linen, and shone beside like the sunlight on pure snow.\nSo I knew from all these things that it was the blessed Angel Gabriel.\"\n\n\"What do they say about this tree, Brother John?\" said he to me.\n\n\"They say it is dying, my Lord Angel,\" said I, \"and that the gardener\nwill bring a sharp axe and cut it down.\"\n\n\"'And what dost thou say about it, Brother John?' said he.\"\n\n\"'I also say yes, and that it is dying,' said I.\"\n\n\"At that he smiled until his face shone so bright that I had to shut my\neyes.\"\n\n\"'Now I begin to believe, Brother John, that thou art as foolish as men\nsay,' said he. 'Look, till I show thee.' And thereat I opened mine eyes\nagain.\"\n\n\"Then Angel Gabriel touched the dead branches with the flowery twig that\nhe held in his hand, and there was the dead wood all covered with green\nleaves, and fair blossoms and beautiful apples as yellow as gold. Each\nsmelling more sweetly than a garden of flowers, and better to the taste\nthan white bread and honey.\n\n\"'They are souls of the apples,' said the good Angel,' and they can\nnever wither and die.'\n\n\"'Then I'll tell the gardener that he shall not cut the tree down,' said\nI.\"\n\n\"'No, no,' said the dear Gabriel, 'that will never do, for if the tree\nis not cut down here on the earth, it can never be planted in paradise.'\"\n\nHere Brother John stopped short in his story, and began singing one of\nhis crazy songs, as he gazed with his pale eyes far away into nothing at\nall.\n\n\"But tell me, Brother John,\" said little Otto, in a hushed voice, \"what\nelse did the good Angel say to thee?\"\n\nBrother John stopped short in his song and began looking from right to\nleft, and up and down, as though to gather his wits.\n\n\"So!\" said he, \"there was something else that he told me. Tschk! If I\ncould but think now. Yes, good! This is it--'Nothing that has lived,'\nsaid he, 'shall ever die, and nothing that has died shall ever live.'\"\n\nOtto drew a deep breath. \"I would that I might see the beautiful Angel\nGabriel sometime,\" said he; but Brother John was singing again and did\nnot seem to hear what he said.\n\nNext to Brother John, the nearest one to the little child was the good\nAbbot Otto, for though he had never seen wonderful things with the eyes\nof his soul, such as Brother John's had beheld, and so could not tell of\nthem, he was yet able to give little Otto another pleasure that no one\nelse could give.\n\nHe was a great lover of books, the old Abbot, and had under lock and key\nwonderful and beautiful volumes, bound in hog-skin and metal, and with\ncovers inlaid with carved ivory, or studded with precious stones. But\nwithin these covers, beautiful as they were, lay the real wonder of the\nbooks, like the soul in the body; for there, beside the black letters\nand initials, gay with red and blue and gold, were beautiful pictures\npainted upon the creamy parchment. Saints and Angels, the Blessed Virgin\nwith the golden oriole about her head, good St. Joseph, the three Kings;\nthe simple Shepherds kneeling in the fields, while Angels with glories\nabout their brow called to the poor Peasants from the blue sky above.\nBut, most beautiful of all was the picture of the Christ Child lying in\nthe manger, with the mild-eyed Kine gazing at him.\n\nSometimes the old Abbot would unlock the iron-bound chest where these\ntreasures lay hidden, and carefully and lovingly brushing the few grains\nof dust from them, would lay them upon the table beside the oriel window\nin front of his little namesake, allowing the little boy freedom to turn\nthe leaves as he chose.\n\nAlways it was one picture that little Otto sought; the Christ Child in\nthe manger, with the Virgin, St. Joseph, the Shepherds, and the Kine.\nAnd as he would hang breathlessly gazing and gazing upon it, the old\nAbbot would sit watching him with a faint, half-sad smile flickering\naround his thin lips and his pale, narrow face.\n\nIt was a pleasant, peaceful life, but by-and-by the end came. Otto was\nnow nearly twelve years old.\n\nOne bright, clear day, near the hour of noon, little Otto heard the\nporter's bell sounding below in the court-yard--dong! dong! Brother\nEmmanuel had been appointed as the boy's instructor, and just then Otto\nwas conning his lessons in the good monk's cell. Nevertheless, at the\nsound of the bell he pricked up his ears and listened, for a visitor was\na strange matter in that out-of-the-way place, and he wondered who it\ncould be. So, while his wits wandered his lessons lagged.\n\n\"Postera Phoeba lustrabat lampade terras,\" continued Brother Emmanuel,\ninexorably running his horny finger-nail beneath the line, \"humentemque\nAurora polo dimoverat umbram--\" the lesson dragged along.\n\nJust then a sandaled footstep sounded without, in the stone corridor,\nand a light tap fell upon Brother Emmanuel's door. It was Brother\nIgnatius, and the Abbot wished little Otto to come to the refectory.\n\nAs they crossed the court-yard Otto stared to see a group of mail-clad\nmen-at-arms, some sitting upon their horses, some standing by the\nsaddle-bow. \"Yonder is the young baron,\" he heard one of them say in a\ngruff voice, and thereupon all turned and stared at him.\n\nA stranger was in the refectory, standing beside the good old Abbot,\nwhile food and wine were being brought and set upon the table for his\nrefreshment; a great, tall, broad-shouldered man, beside whom the Abbot\nlooked thinner and slighter than ever.\n\nThe stranger was clad all in polished and gleaming armor, of plate and\nchain, over which was drawn a loose robe of gray woollen stuff, reaching\nto the knees and bound about the waist by a broad leathern sword-belt.\nUpon his arm he carried a great helmet which he had just removed from\nhis head. His face was weather-beaten and rugged, and on lip and chin\nwas a wiry, bristling beard; once red, now frosted with white.\n\nBrother Ignatius had bidden Otto to enter, and had then closed the door\nbehind him; and now, as the lad walked slowly up the long room, he gazed\nwith round, wondering blue eyes at the stranger.\n\n\"Dost know who I am, Otto? said the mail-clad knight, in a deep,\ngrowling voice.\n\n\"Methinks you are my father, sir,\" said Otto.\n\n\"Aye, thou art right,\" said Baron Conrad, \"and I am glad to see that\nthese milk-churning monks have not allowed thee to forget me, and who\nthou art thyself.\"\n\n\"An' it please you,\" said Otto, \"no one churneth milk here but\nBrother Fritz; we be makers of wine and not makers of butter, at St.\nMichaelsburg.\"\n\nBaron Conrad broke into a great, loud laugh, but Abbot Otto's sad and\nthoughtful face lit up with no shadow of an answering smile.\n\n\"Conrad,\" said he, turning to the other, \"again let me urge thee; do\nnot take the child hence, his life can never be your life, for he is not\nfitted for it. I had thought,\" said he, after a moment's pause, \"I had\nthought that thou hadst meant to consecrate him--this motherless one--to\nthe care of the Universal Mother Church.\"\n\n\"So!\" said the Baron, \"thou hadst thought that, hadst thou? Thou hadst\nthought that I had intended to deliver over this boy, the last of the\nVuelphs, to the arms of the Church? What then was to become of our name\nand the glory of our race if it was to end with him in a monastery? No,\nDrachenhausen is the home of the Vuelphs, and there the last of the race\nshall live as his sires have lived before him, holding to his rights by\nthe power and the might of his right hand.\"\n\nThe Abbot turned and looked at the boy, who was gaping in simple\nwide-eyed wonderment from one to the other as they spoke.\n\n\"And dost thou think, Conrad,\" said the old man, in his gentle, patient\nvoice, \"that that poor child can maintain his rights by the strength of\nhis right hand?\"\n\nThe Baron's look followed the Abbot's, and he said nothing.\n\nIn the few seconds of silence that followed, little Otto, in his simple\nmind, was wondering what all this talk portended. Why had his father\ncome hither to St. Michaelsburg, lighting up the dim silence of the\nmonastery with the flash and ring of his polished armor? Why had he\ntalked about churning butter but now, when all the world knew that the\nmonks of St. Michaelsburg made wine.\n\nIt was Baron Conrad's deep voice that broke the little pause of silence.\n\n\"If you have made a milkmaid of the boy,\" he burst out at last, \"I thank\nthe dear heaven that there is yet time to undo your work and to make a\nman of him.\"\n\nThe Abbot sighed. \"The child is yours, Conrad,\" said he, \"the will of\nthe blessed saints be done. Mayhap if he goes to dwell at Drachenhausen\nhe may make you the better instead of you making him the worse.\"\n\nThen light came to the darkness of little Otto's wonderment; he saw what\nall this talk meant and why his father had come hither. He was to leave\nthe happy, sunny silence of the dear White Cross, and to go out into\nthat great world that he had so often looked down upon from the high\nwindy belfry on the steep hillside.\n\n\n\n\nVI. How Otto Lived in the Dragon's House.\n\nThe gates of the Monastery stood wide open, the world lay beyond, and\nall was ready for departure. Baron Conrad and his men-at-arms sat foot\nin stirrup, the milk-white horse that had been brought for Otto stood\nwaiting for him beside his father's great charger.\n\n\"Farewell, Otto,\" said the good old Abbot, as he stooped and kissed the\nboy's cheek.\n\n\"Farewell,\" answered Otto, in his simple, quiet way, and it brought\na pang to the old man's heart that the child should seem to grieve so\nlittle at the leave-taking.\n\n\"Farewell, Otto,\" said the brethren that stood about, \"farewell,\nfarewell.\"\n\nThen poor brother John came forward and took the boy's hand, and looked\nup into his face as he sat upon his horse. \"We will meet again,\" said\nhe, with his strange, vacant smile, \"but maybe it will be in Paradise,\nand there perhaps they will let us lie in the father's belfry, and look\ndown upon the angels in the court-yard below.\"\n\n\"Aye,\" answered Otto, with an answering smile.\n\n\"Forward,\" cried the Baron, in a deep voice, and with a clash of hoofs\nand jingle of armor they were gone, and the great wooden gates were shut\nto behind them.\n\nDown the steep winding pathway they rode, and out into the great wide\nworld beyond, upon which Otto and brother John had gazed so often from\nthe wooden belfry of the White Cross on the hill.\n\n\"Hast been taught to ride a horse by the priests up yonder on\nMichaelsburg?\" asked the Baron, when they had reached the level road.\n\n\"Nay,\" said Otto; \"we had no horse to ride, but only to bring in the\nharvest or the grapes from the further vineyards to the vintage.\"\n\n\"Prut,\" said the Baron, \"methought the abbot would have had enough of\nthe blood of old days in his veins to have taught thee what is fitting\nfor a knight to know; art not afeared?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Otto, with a smile, \"I am not afeared.\"\n\n\"There at least thou showest thyself a Vuelph,\" said the grim Baron. But\nperhaps Otto's thought of fear and Baron Conrad's thought of fear were\ntwo very different matters.\n\nThe afternoon had passed by the time they had reached the end of their\njourney. Up the steep, stony path they rode to the drawbridge and\nthe great gaping gateway of Drachenhausen, where wall and tower and\nbattlement looked darker and more forbidding than ever in the gray\ntwilight of the coming night. Little Otto looked up with great,\nwondering, awe-struck eyes at this grim new home of his.\n\nThe next moment they clattered over the drawbridge that spanned the\nnarrow black gulph between the roadway and the wall, and the next were\npast the echoing arch of the great gateway and in the gray gloaming of\nthe paved court-yard within.\n\nOtto looked around upon the many faces gathered there to catch the\nfirst sight of the little baron; hard, rugged faces, seamed and\nweather-beaten; very different from those of the gentle brethren among\nwhom he had lived, and it seemed strange to him that there was none\nthere whom he should know.\n\nAs he climbed the steep, stony steps to the door of the Baron's house,\nold Ursela came running down to meet him. She flung her withered arms\naround him and hugged him close to her. \"My little child,\" she cried,\nand then fell to sobbing as though her heart would break.\n\n\"Here is someone knoweth me,\" thought the little boy.\n\nHis new home was all very strange and wonderful to Otto; the armors, the\ntrophies, the flags, the long galleries with their ranges of rooms,\nthe great hall below with its vaulted roof and its great fireplace of\ngrotesquely carved stone, and all the strange people with their lives\nand thoughts so different from what he had been used to know.\n\nAnd it was a wonderful thing to explore all the strange places in the\ndark old castle; places where it seemed to Otto no one could have ever\nbeen before.\n\nOnce he wandered down a long, dark passageway below the hall, pushed\nopen a narrow, iron-bound oaken door, and found himself all at once in\na strange new land; the gray light, coming in through a range of tall,\nnarrow windows, fell upon a row of silent, motionless figures carven in\nstone, knights and ladies in strange armor and dress; each lying upon\nhis or her stony couch with clasped hands, and gazing with fixed,\nmotionless, stony eyeballs up into the gloomy, vaulted arch above them.\nThere lay, in a cold, silent row, all of the Vuelphs who had died since\nthe ancient castle had been built.\n\nIt was the chapel into which Otto had made his way, now long since\nfallen out of use excepting as a burial place of the race.\n\nAt another time he clambered up into the loft under the high peaked\nroof, where lay numberless forgotten things covered with the dim dust\nof years. There a flock of pigeons had made their roost, and flapped\nnoisily out into the sunlight when he pushed open the door from below.\nHere he hunted among the mouldering things of the past until, oh, joy\nof joys! in an ancient oaken chest he found a great lot of worm-eaten\nbooks, that had belonged to some old chaplain of the castle in days gone\nby. They were not precious and beautiful volumes, such as the Father\nAbbot had showed him, but all the same they had their quaint painted\npictures of the blessed saints and angels.\n\nAgain, at another time, going into the court-yard, Otto had found\nthe door of Melchior's tower standing invitingly open, for old Hilda,\nSchwartz Carl's wife, had come down below upon some business or other.\n\nThen upon the shaky wooden steps Otto ran without waiting for a second\nthought, for he had often gazed at those curious buildings hanging so\nfar up in the air, and had wondered what they were like. Round and round\nand up and up Otto climbed, until his head spun. At last he reached\na landing-stage, and gazing over the edge and down, beheld the stone\npavement far, far below, lit by a faint glimmer of light that entered\nthrough the arched doorway. Otto clutched tight hold of the wooden rail,\nhe had no thought that he had climbed so far.\n\nUpon the other side of the landing was a window that pierced the thick\nstone walls of the tower; out of the window he looked, and then drew\nsuddenly back again with a gasp, for it was through the outer wall he\npeered, and down, down below in the dizzy depths he saw the hard\ngray rocks, where the black swine, looking no larger than ants in the\ndistance, fed upon the refuse thrown out over the walls of the castle.\nThere lay the moving tree-tops like a billowy green sea, and the coarse\nthatched roofs of the peasant cottages, round which crawled the little\nchildren like tiny human specks.\n\nThen Otto turned and crept down the stairs, frightened at the height to\nwhich he had climbed.\n\nAt the doorway he met Mother Hilda. \"Bless us,\" she cried, starting back\nand crossing herself, and then, seeing who it was, ducked him a courtesy\nwith as pleasant a smile as her forbidding face, with its little\ndeep-set eyes, was able to put upon itself.\n\nOld Ursela seemed nearer to the boy than anyone else about the castle,\nexcepting it was his father, and it was a newfound delight to Otto to\nsit beside her and listen to her quaint stories, so different from the\nmonkish tales that he had heard and read at the monastery.\n\nBut one day it was a tale of a different sort that she told him, and one\nthat opened his eyes to what he had never dreamed of before.\n\nThe mellow sunlight fell through the window upon old Ursela, as she sat\nin the warmth with her distaff in her hands while Otto lay close to her\nfeet upon a bear skin, silently thinking over the strange story of a\nbrave knight and a fiery dragon that she had just told him. Suddenly\nUrsela broke the silence.\n\n\"Little one,\" said she, \"thou art wondrously like thy own dear mother;\ndidst ever hear how she died?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Otto, \"but tell me, Ursela, how it was.\"\n\n\"Tis strange,\" said the old woman, \"that no one should have told thee\nin all this time.\" And then, in her own fashion she related to him the\nstory of how his father had set forth upon that expedition in spite of\nall that Otto's mother had said, beseeching him to abide at home; how he\nhad been foully wounded, and how the poor lady had died from her fright\nand grief.\n\nOtto listened with eyes that grew wider and wider, though not all with\nwonder; he no longer lay upon the bear skin, but sat up with his hands\nclasped. For a moment or two after the old woman had ended her story, he\nsat staring silently at her. Then he cried out, in a sharp voice, \"And\nis this truth that you tell me, Ursela? and did my father seek to rob\nthe towns people of their goods?\"\n\nOld Ursela laughed. \"Aye,\" said she, \"that he did and many times. Ah!\nme, those day's are all gone now.\" And she fetched a deep sigh. \"Then we\nlived in plenty and had both silks and linens and velvets besides in the\nstore closets and were able to buy good wines and live in plenty upon\nthe best. Now we dress in frieze and live upon what we can get and\nsometimes that is little enough, with nothing better than sour beer to\ndrink. But there is one comfort in it all, and that is that our good\nBaron paid back the score he owed the Trutz-Drachen people not only for\nthat, but for all that they had done from the very first.\"\n\nThereupon she went on to tell Otto how Baron Conrad had fulfilled the\npledge of revenge that he had made Abbot Otto, how he had watched day\nafter day until one time he had caught the Trutz-Drachen folk,\nwith Baron Frederick at their head, in a narrow defile back of the\nKaiserburg; of the fierce fight that was there fought; of how the\nRoderburgs at last fled, leaving Baron Frederick behind them wounded; of\nhow he had kneeled before the Baron Conrad, asking for mercy, and of\nhow Baron Conrad had answered, \"Aye, thou shalt have such mercy as thou\ndeservest,\" and had therewith raised his great two-handed sword and laid\nhis kneeling enemy dead at one blow.\n\nPoor little Otto had never dreamed that such cruelty and wickedness\ncould be. He listened to the old woman's story with gaping horror, and\nwhen the last came and she told him, with a smack of her lips, how his\nfather had killed his enemy with his own hand, he gave a gasping cry and\nsprang to his feet. Just then the door at the other end of the chamber\nwas noisily opened, and Baron Conrad himself strode into the room.\nOtto turned his head, and seeing who it was, gave another cry, loud and\nquavering, and ran to his father and caught him by the hand.\n\n\"Oh, father!\" he cried, \"oh, father! Is it true that thou hast killed a\nman with thy own hand?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said the Baron, grimly, \"it is true enough, and I think me I have\nkilled many more than one. But what of that, Otto? Thou must get out of\nthose foolish notions that the old monks have taught thee. Here in the\nworld it is different from what it is at St. Michaelsburg; here a man\nmust either slay or be slain.\"\n\nBut poor little Otto, with his face hidden in his father's robe, cried\nas though his heart would break. \"Oh, father!\" he said, again and again,\n\"it cannot be--it cannot be that thou who art so kind to me should have\nkilled a man with thine own hands.\" Then: \"I wish that I were back\nin the monastery again; I am afraid out here in the great wide world;\nperhaps somebody may kill me, for I am only a weak little boy and could\nnot save my own life if they chose to take it from me.\"\n\nBaron Conrad looked down upon Otto all this while, drawing his bushy\neyebrows together. Once he reached out his hand as though to stroke the\nboy's hair, but drew it back again.\n\nTurning angrily upon the old woman, \"Ursela,\" said he, \"thou must tell\nthe child no more such stories as these; he knowest not at all of such\nthings as yet. Keep thy tongue busy with the old woman's tales that he\nloves to hear thee tell, and leave it with me to teach him what becometh\na true knight and a Vuelph.\"\n\nThat night the father and son sat together beside the roaring fire in\nthe great ball. \"Tell me, Otto,\" said the Baron, \"dost thou hate me for\nhaving done what Ursela told thee today that I did?\"\n\nOtto looked for a while into his father's face. \"I know not,\" said he at\nlast, in his quaint, quiet voice, \"but methinks that I do not hate thee\nfor it.\"\n\nThe Baron drew his bushy brows together until his eyes twinkled out of\nthe depths beneath them, then of a sudden he broke into a great loud\nlaugh, smiting his horny palm with a smack upon his thigh.\n\n\n\n\nVII. The Red Cock Crows on Drachenhausen.\n\nThere was a new emperor in Germany who had come from a far away Swiss\ncastle; Count Rudolph of Hapsburg, a good, honest man with a good,\nhonest, homely face, but bringing with him a stern sense of justice and\nof right, and a determination to put down the lawlessness of the savage\nGerman barons among whom he had come as Emperor.\n\nOne day two strangers came galloping up the winding path to the gates\nof the Dragon's house. A horn sounded thin and clear, a parley was held\nacross the chasm in the road between the two strangers and the porter\nwho appeared at the little wicket. Then a messenger was sent running to\nthe Baron, who presently came striding across the open court-yard to the\ngateway to parley with the strangers.\n\nThe two bore with them a folded parchment with a great red seal\nhanging from it like a clot of blood; it was a message from the Emperor\ndemanding that the Baron should come to the Imperial Court to answer\ncertain charges that had been brought against him, and to give his bond\nto maintain the peace of the empire.\n\nOne by one those barons who had been carrying on their private wars, or\nhad been despoiling the burgher folk in their traffic from town to\ntown, and against whom complaint had been lodged, were summoned to the\nImperial Court, where they were compelled to promise peace and to swear\nallegiance to the new order of things. All those who came willingly were\nallowed to return home again after giving security for maintaining the\npeace; all those who came not willingly were either brought in chains\nor rooted out of their strongholds with fire and sword, and their roofs\nburned over their heads.\n\nNow it was Baron Conrad's turn to be summoned to the Imperial Court,\nfor complaint had been lodged against him by his old enemy of\nTrutz-Drachen--Baron Henry--the nephew of the old Baron Frederick\nwho had been slain while kneeling in the dust of the road back of the\nKaiserburg.\n\nNo one at Drachenhausen could read but Master Rudolph, the steward,\nwho was sand blind, and little Otto. So the boy read the summons to his\nfather, while the grim Baron sat silent with his chin resting upon his\nclenched fist and his eyebrows drawn together into a thoughtful frown as\nhe gazed into the pale face of his son, who sat by the rude oaken table\nwith the great parchment spread out before him.\n\nShould he answer the summons, or scorn it as he would have done under\nthe old emperors? Baron Conrad knew not which to do; pride said one\nthing and policy another. The Emperor was a man with an iron hand, and\nBaron Conrad knew what had happened to those who had refused to obey the\nimperial commands. So at last he decided that he would go to the court,\ntaking with him a suitable escort to support his dignity.\n\nIt was with nearly a hundred armed men clattering behind him that Baron\nConrad rode away to court to answer the imperial summons. The castle was\nstripped of its fighting men, and only eight remained behind to guard\nthe great stone fortress and the little simple-witted boy.\n\nIt was a sad mistake.\n\nThree days had passed since the Baron had left the castle, and now the\nthird night had come. The moon was hanging midway in the sky, white and\nfull, for it was barely past midnight.\n\nThe high precipitous banks of the rocky road threw a dense black shadow\ninto the gully below, and in that crooked inky line that scarred the\nwhite face of the moonlit rocks a band of some thirty men were creeping\nslowly and stealthily nearer and nearer to Castle Drachenhausen. At the\nhead of them was a tall, slender knight clad in light chain armor, his\nhead covered only by a steel cap or bascinet.\n\nAlong the shadow they crept, with only now and then a faint clink or\njingle of armor to break the stillness, for most of those who followed\nthe armed knight were clad in leathern jerkins; only one or two wearing\neven so much as a steel breast-plate by way of armor.\n\nSo at last they reached the chasm that yawned beneath the roadway, and\nthere they stopped, for they had reached the spot toward which they had\nbeen journeying. It was Baron Henry of Trutz-Drachen who had thus come\nin the silence of the night time to the Dragon's house, and his visit\nboded no good to those within.\n\nThe Baron and two or three of his men talked together in low tones, now\nand then looking up at the sheer wall that towered above them.\n\n\"Yonder is the place, Lord Baron,\" said one of those who stood with him.\n\"I have scanned every foot of the wall at night for a week past. An we\nget not in by that way, we get not in at all. A keen eye, a true aim,\nand a bold man are all that we need, and the business is done.\" Here\nagain all looked upward at the gray wall above them, rising up in the\nsilent night air.\n\nHigh aloft hung the wooden bartizan or watch-tower, clinging to the face\nof the outer wall and looming black against the pale sky above. Three\ngreat beams pierced the wall, and upon them the wooden tower rested. The\nmiddle beam jutted out beyond the rest to the distance of five or six\nfeet, and the end of it was carved into the rude semblance of a dragon's\nhead.\n\n\"So, good,\" said the Baron at last; \"then let us see if thy plan holds,\nand if Hans Schmidt's aim is true enough to earn the three marks that I\nhave promised him. Where is the bag?\"\n\nOne of those who stood near handed the Baron a leathern pouch, the Baron\nopened it and drew out a ball of fine thread, another of twine, a coil\nof stout rope, and a great bundle that looked, until it was unrolled,\nlike a coarse fish-net. It was a rope ladder. While these were being\nmade ready, Hans Schmidt, a thick-set, low-browed, broad-shouldered\narcher, strung his stout bow, and carefully choosing three arrows\nfrom those in his quiver, he stuck them point downward in the earth.\nUnwinding the ball of thread, he laid it loosely in large loops upon the\nground so that it might run easily without hitching, then he tied the\nend of the thread tightly around one of his arrows. He fitted the arrow\nto the bow and drew the feather to his ear. Twang! rang the bowstring,\nand the feathered messenger flew whistling upon its errand to the\nwatch-tower. The very first shaft did the work.\n\n\"Good,\" said Hans Schmidt, the archer, in his heavy voice, \"the three\nmarks are mine, Lord Baron.\"\n\nThe arrow had fallen over and across the jutting beam between the carved\ndragon's head and the bartizan, carrying with it the thread, which now\nhung from above, glimmering white in the moonlight like a cobweb.\n\nThe rest was an easy task enough. First the twine was drawn up to and\nover the beam by the thread, then the rope was drawn up by the twine,\nand last of all the rope ladder by the rope. There it hung like a thin,\nslender black line against the silent gray walls.\n\n\"And now,\" said the Baron, \"who will go first and win fifty marks for\nhis own, and climb the rope ladder to the tower yonder?\" Those around\nhesitated. \"Is there none brave enough to venture?\" said the Baron,\nafter a pause of silence.\n\nA stout, young fellow, of about eighteen years of age, stepped forward\nand flung his flat leathern cap upon the ground. \"I will go, my Lord\nBaron,\" said he.\n\n\"Good,\" said the Baron, \"the fifty marks are thine. And now listen, if\nthou findest no one in the watch-tower, whistle thus; if the watchman\nbe at his post, see that thou makest all safe before thou givest the\nsignal. When all is ready the others will follow thee. And now go and\ngood luck go with thee.\"\n\nThe young fellow spat upon his hands and, seizing the ropes, began\nslowly and carefully to mount the flimsy, shaking ladder. Those below\nheld it as tight as they were able, but nevertheless he swung backward\nand forward and round and round as he climbed steadily upward. Once he\nstopped upon the way, and those below saw him clutch the ladder close\nto him as though dizzied by the height and the motion but he soon began\nagain, up, up, up like some great black spider. Presently he came out\nfrom the black shadow below and into the white moonlight, and then his\nshadow followed him step by step up the gray wall upon his way. At last\nhe reached the jutting beam, and there again he stopped for a moment\nclutching tightly to it. The next he was upon the beam, dragging himself\ntoward the window of the bartizan just above. Slowly raising himself\nupon his narrow foothold he peeped cautiously within. Those watching\nhim from be low saw him slip his hand softly to his side, and then place\nsomething between his teeth. It was his dagger. Reaching up, he clutched\nthe window sill above him and, with a silent spring, seated himself\nupon it. The next moment he disappeared within. A few seconds of silence\nfollowed, then of sudden a sharp gurgling cry broke the stillness. There\nwas another pause of silence, then a faint shrill whistle sounded from\nabove.\n\n\"Who will go next?\" said the Baron. It was Hans Schmidt who stepped\nforward. Another followed the arch up the ladder, and another, and\nanother. Last of all went the Baron Henry himself, and nothing was left\nbut the rope ladder hanging from above, and swaying back and forth in\nthe wind.\n\nThat night Schwartz Carl had been bousing it over a pot of yellow wine\nin the pantry with his old crony, Master Rudolph, the steward; and the\ntwo, chatting and gossiping together, had passed the time away until\nlong after the rest of the castle had been wrapped in sleep. Then,\nperhaps a little unsteady upon his feet, Schwartz Carl betook himself\nhomeward to the Melchior tower.\n\nHe stood for a while in the shadow of the doorway, gazing up into the\npale sky above him at the great, bright, round moon, that hung like a\nbubble above the sharp peaks of the roofs standing black as ink against\nthe sky. But all of a sudden he started up from the post against which\nhe had been leaning, and with head bent to one side, stood listening\nbreathlessly, for he too had heard that smothered cry from the\nwatch-tower. So he stood intently, motionlessly, listening, listening;\nbut all was silent except for the monotonous dripping of water in one of\nthe nooks of the court-yard, and the distant murmur of the river borne\nupon the breath of the night air. \"Mayhap I was mistaken,\" muttered\nSchwartz Carl to himself.\n\nBut the next moment the silence was broken again by a faint, shrill\nwhistle; what did it mean?\n\nBack of the heavy oaken door of the tower was Schwartz Carl's cross-bow,\nthe portable windlass with which the bowstring was drawn back, and a\npouch of bolts. Schwartz Carl reached back into the darkness, fumbling\nin the gloom until his fingers met the weapon. Setting his foot in the\niron stirrup at the end of the stock, he wound the stout bow-string\ninto the notch of the trigger, and carefully fitted the heavy,\nmurderous-looking bolt into the groove.\n\nMinute after minute passed, and Schwartz Carl, holding his arbelast in\nhis hand, stood silently waiting and watching in the sharp-cut, black\nshadow of the doorway, motionless as a stone statue. Minute after minute\npassed. Suddenly there was a movement in the shadow of the arch of the\ngreat gateway across the court-yard, and the next moment a leathern-clad\nfigure crept noiselessly out upon the moonlit pavement, and stood there\nlistening, his head bent to one side. Schwartz Carl knew very well\nthat it was no one belonging to the castle, and, from the nature of his\naction, that he was upon no good errand.\n\nHe did not stop to challenge the suspicious stranger. The taking of\nanother's life was thought too small a matter for much thought or care\nin those days. Schwartz Carl would have shot a man for a much smaller\nreason than the suspicious actions of this fellow. The leather-clad\nfigure stood a fine target in the moonlight for a cross-bow bolt.\nSchwartz Carl slowly raised the weapon to his shoulder and took a long\nand steady aim. Just then the stranger put his fingers to his lips and\ngave a low, shrill whistle. It was the last whistle that he was to give\nupon this earth. There was a sharp, jarring twang of the bow-string, the\nhiss of the flying bolt, and the dull thud as it struck its mark. The\nman gave a shrill, quavering cry, and went staggering back, and then\nfell all of a heap against the wall behind him. As though in answer to\nthe cry, half a dozen men rushed tumultuously out from the shadow of\nthe gateway whence the stranger had just come, and then stood in the\ncourt-yard, looking uncertainly this way and that, not knowing from what\nquarter the stroke had come that had laid their comrade low.\n\nBut Schwartz Carl did not give them time to discover that; there was no\nchance to string his cumbersome weapon again; down he flung it upon the\nground. \"To arms!\" he roared in a voice of thunder, and then clapped to\nthe door of Melchior's tower and shot the great iron bolts with a clang\nand rattle.\n\nThe next instant the Trutz-Drachen men were thundering at the door, but\nSchwartz Carl was already far up the winding steps.\n\nBut now the others came pouring out from the gateway. \"To the house,\"\nroared Baron Henry.\n\nThen suddenly a clashing, clanging uproar crashed out upon the night.\nDong! Dong! It was the great alarm bell from Melchior's tower--Schwartz\nCarl was at his post.\n\nLittle Baron Otto lay sleeping upon the great rough bed in his room,\ndreaming of the White Cross on the hill and of brother John. By and by\nhe heard the convent bell ringing, and knew that there must be visitors\nat the gate, for loud voices sounded through his dream. Presently he\nknew that he was coming awake, but though the sunny monastery garden\ngrew dimmer and dimmer to his sleeping sight, the clanging of the bell\nand the sound of shouts grew louder and louder. Then he opened his eyes.\nFlaming red lights from torches, carried hither and thither by people\nin the court-yard outside, flashed and ran along the wall of his\nroom. Hoarse shouts and cries filled the air, and suddenly the shrill,\npiercing shriek of a woman rang from wall to wall; and through the\nnoises the great bell from far above upon Melchior's tower clashed and\nclanged its harsh, resonant alarm.\n\nOtto sprang from his bed and looked out of the window and down upon\nthe court-yard below. \"Dear God! what dreadful thing hath happened?\" he\ncried and clasped his hands together.\n\nA cloud of smoke was pouring out from the windows of the building across\nthe court-yard, whence a dull ruddy glow flashed and flickered. Strange\nmen were running here and there with flaming torches, and the now\ncontinuous shrieking of women pierced the air.\n\nJust beneath the window lay the figure of a man half naked and face\ndownward upon the stones. Then suddenly Otto cried out in fear and\nhorror, for, as he looked with dazed and bewildered eyes down into the\nlurid court-yard beneath, a savage man, in a shining breast-plate and\nsteel cap, came dragging the dark, silent figure of a woman across the\nstones; but whether she was dead or in a swoon, Otto could not tell.\n\nAnd every moment the pulsing of that dull red glare from the windows of\nthe building across the court-yard shone more brightly, and the glare\nfrom other flaming buildings, which Otto could not see from his window,\nturned the black, starry night into a lurid day.\n\nJust then the door of the room was burst open, and in rushed poor old\nUrsela, crazy with her terror. She flung herself down upon the floor and\ncaught Otto around the knees. \"Save me!\" she cried, \"save me!\" as though\nthe poor, pale child could be of any help to her at such a time. In the\npassageway without shone the light of torches, and the sound of loud\nfootsteps came nearer and nearer.\n\nAnd still through all the din sounded continually the clash and clang\nand clamor of the great alarm bell.\n\nThe red light flashed into the room, and in the doorway stood a tall,\nthin figure clad from head to foot in glittering chain armor. From\nbehind this fierce knight, with his dark, narrow, cruel face, its\ndeep-set eyes glistening in the light of the torches, crowded six or\neight savage, low-browed, brutal men, who stared into the room and\nat the white-faced boy as he stood by the window with the old woman\nclinging to his knees and praying to him for help.\n\n\"We have cracked the nut and here is the kernel,\" said one of them who\nstood behind the rest, and thereupon a roar of brutal laughter went up.\nBut the cruel face of the armed knight never relaxed into a smile;\nhe strode into the room and laid his iron hand heavily upon the boy's\nshoulder. \"Art thou the young Baron Otto?\" said he, in a harsh voice.\n\n\"Aye,\" said the lad; \"but do not kill me.\"\n\nThe knight did not answer him. \"Fetch the cord hither,\" said he, \"and\ndrag the old witch away.\"\n\nIt took two of them to loosen poor old Ursela's crazy clutch from about\nher young master. Then amid roars of laughter they dragged her away,\nscreaming and scratching and striking with her fists.\n\nThey drew back Otto's arms behind his back and wrapped them round and\nround with a bowstring. Then they pushed and hustled and thrust him\nforth from the room and along the passageway, now bright with the flames\nthat roared and crackled without. Down the steep stairway they drove\nhim, where thrice he stumbled and fell amid roars of laughter. At last\nthey were out into the open air of the court-yard. Here was a terrible\nsight, but Otto saw nothing of it; his blue eyes were gazing far away,\nand his lips moved softly with the prayer that the good monks of St.\nMichaelsburg had taught him, for he thought that they meant to slay him.\n\nAll around the court-yard the flames roared and snapped and crackled.\nFour or five figures lay scattered here and there, silent in all the\nglare and uproar. The heat was so intense that they were soon forced\nback into the shelter of the great gateway, where the women captives,\nunder the guard of three or four of the Trutz-Drachen men, were crowded\ntogether in dumb, bewildered terror. Only one man was to be seen among\nthe captives, poor, old, half blind Master Rudolph, the steward,\nwho crouched tremblingly among the women. They had set the blaze to\nMelchior's tower, and now, below, it was a seething furnace. Above, the\nsmoke rolled in black clouds from the windows, but still the alarm bell\nsounded through all the blaze and smoke. Higher and higher the flames\nrose; a trickle of fire ran along the frame buildings hanging aloft in\nthe air. A clear flame burst out at the peak of the roof, but still the\nbell rang forth its clamorous clangor. Presently those who watched below\nsaw the cluster of buildings bend and sink and sway; there was a crash\nand roar, a cloud of sparks flew up as though to the very heavens\nthemselves, and the bell of Melchior's tower was stilled forever. A\ngreat shout arose from the watching, upturned faces.\n\n\"Forward!\" cried Baron Henry, and out from the gateway they swept and\nacross the drawbridge, leaving Drachenhausen behind them a flaming\nfurnace blazing against the gray of the early dawning.\n\n\n\n\nVIII. In the House of the Dragon Scorner.\n\nTall, narrow, gloomy room; no furniture but a rude bench a bare stone\nfloor, cold stone walls and a gloomy ceiling of arched stone over head;\na long, narrow slit of a window high above in the wall, through the iron\nbars of which Otto could see a small patch of blue sky and now and then\na darting swallow, for an instant seen, the next instant gone. Such\nwas the little baron's prison in Trutz-Drachen. Fastened to a bolt\nand hanging against the walls, hung a pair of heavy chains with gaping\nfetters at the ends. They were thick with rust, and the red stain of\nthe rust streaked the wall below where they hung like a smear of blood.\nLittle Otto shuddered as he looked at them; can those be meant for me,\nhe thought.\n\nNothing was to be seen but that one patch of blue sky far up in the\nwall. No sound from without was to be heard in that gloomy cell of\nstone, for the window pierced the outer wall, and the earth and its\nnoises lay far below.\n\nSuddenly a door crashed without, and the footsteps of men were heard\ncoming along the corridor. They stopped in front of Otto's cell; he\nheard the jingle of keys, and then a loud rattle of one thrust into\nthe lock of the heavy oaken door. The rusty bolt was shot back with a\nscreech, the door opened, and there stood Baron Henry, no longer in his\narmor, but clad in a long black robe that reached nearly to his feet,\na broad leather belt was girdled about his waist, and from it dangled a\nshort, heavy hunting sword.\n\nAnother man was with the Baron, a heavy-faced fellow clad in a leathern\njerkin over which was drawn a short coat of linked mail.\n\nThe two stood for a moment looking into the room, and Otto, his pale\nface glimmering in the gloom, sat upon the edge of the heavy wooden\nbench or bed, looking back at them out of his great blue eyes. Then the\ntwo entered and closed the door behind them.\n\n\"Dost thou know why thou art here?\" said the Baron, in his deep, harsh\nvoice.\n\n\"Nay,\" said Otto, \"I know not.\"\n\n\"So?\" said the Baron. \"Then I will tell thee. Three years ago the good\nBaron Frederick, my uncle, kneeled in the dust and besought mercy at thy\nfather's hands; the mercy he received was the coward blow that slew him.\nThou knowest the story?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said Otto, tremblingly, \"I know it.\"\n\n\"Then dost thou not know why I am here?\" said the Baron.\n\n\"Nay, dear Lord Baron, I know not,\" said poor little Otto, and began to\nweep.\n\nThe Baron stood for a moment or two looking gloomily upon him, as the\nlittle boy sat there with the tears running down his white face.\n\n\"I will tell thee,\" said he, at last; \"I swore an oath that the red cock\nshould crow on Drachenhausen, and I have given it to the dames. I swore\nan oath that no Vuelph that ever left my hands should be able to strike\nsuch a blow as thy father gave to Baron Frederick, and now I will fulfil\nthat too. Catch the boy, Casper, and hold him.\"\n\nAs the man in the mail shirt stepped toward little Otto, the boy leaped\nup from where he sat and caught the Baron about the knees. \"Oh! dear\nLord Baron,\" he cried, \"do not harm me; I am only a little child, I have\nnever done harm to thee; do not harm me.\"\n\n\"Take him away,\" said the Baron, harshly.\n\nThe fellow stooped, and loosening Otto's hold, in spite of his struggles\nand cries, carried him to the bench, against which he held him, whilst\nthe Baron stood above him.\n\nBaron Henry and the other came forth from the cell, carefully closing\nthe wooden door behind them. At the end of the corridor the Baron\nturned, \"Let the leech be sent to the boy,\" said he. And then he turned\nand walked away.\n\nOtto lay upon the hard couch in his cell, covered with a shaggy bear\nskin. His face was paler and thinner than ever, and dark rings encircled\nhis blue eyes. He was looking toward the door, for there was a noise of\nsomeone fumbling with the lock without.\n\nSince that dreadful day when Baron Henry had come to his cell, only two\nsouls had visited Otto. One was the fellow who had come with the Baron\nthat time; his name, Otto found, was Casper. He brought the boy his rude\nmeals of bread and meat and water. The other visitor was the leech or\ndoctor, a thin, weasand little man, with a kindly, wrinkled face and a\ngossiping tongue, who, besides binding wounds, bleeding, and leeching,\nand administering his simple remedies to those who were taken sick in\nthe castle, acted as the Baron's barber.\n\nThe Baron had left the key in the lock of the door, so that these two\nmight enter when they chose, but Otto knew that it was neither the one\nnor the other whom he now heard at the door, working uncertainly with\nthe key, striving to turn it in the rusty, cumbersome lock. At last the\nbolts grated back, there was a pause, and then the door opened a little\nway, and Otto thought that he could see someone peeping in from without.\nBy and by the door opened further, there was another pause, and then\na slender, elfish-looking little girl, with straight black hair and\nshining black eyes, crept noiselessly into the room.\n\nShe stood close by the door with her finger in her mouth, staring at\nthe boy where he lay upon his couch, and Otto upon his part lay, full of\nwonder, gazing back upon the little elfin creature.\n\nShe, seeing that he made no sign or motion, stepped a little nearer, and\nthen, after a moment's pause, a little nearer still, until, at last, she\nstood within a few feet of where he lay.\n\n\"Art thou the Baron Otto?\" said she.\n\n\"Yes,\" answered Otto.\n\n\"Prut!\" said she, \"and is that so! Why, I thought that thou wert a great\ntall fellow at least, and here thou art a little boy no older than Carl\nMax, the gooseherd.\" Then, after a little pause--\"My name is Pauline,\nand my father is the Baron. I heard him tell my mother all about thee,\nand so I wanted to come here and see thee myself: Art thou sick?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Otto, \"I am sick.\"\n\n\"And did my father hurt thee?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said Otto, and his eyes filled with tears, until one sparkling\ndrop trickled slowly down his white face.\n\nLittle Pauline stood looking seriously at him for a while. \"I am sorry\nfor thee, Otto,\" said she, at last. And then, at her childish pity, he\nbegan crying in earnest.\n\nThis was only the first visit of many from the little maid, for after\nthat she often came to Otto's prison, who began to look for her coming\nfrom day to day as the one bright spot in the darkness and the gloom.\n\nSitting upon the edge of his bed and gazing into his face with wide open\neyes, she would listen to him by the hour, as he told her of his life in\nthat far away monastery home; of poor, simple brother John's wonderful\nvisions, of the good Abbot's books with their beautiful pictures, and of\nall the monkish tales and stories of knights and dragons and heroes and\nemperors of ancient Rome, which brother Emmanuel had taught him to read\nin the crabbed monkish Latin in which they were written.\n\nOne day the little maid sat for a long while silent after he had ended\nspeaking. At last she drew a deep breath. \"And are all these things that\nthou tellest me about the priests in their castle really true?\" said\nshe.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Otto, \"all are true.\"\n\n\"And do they never go out to fight other priests?\"\n\n\"No,\" said Otto, \"they know nothing of fighting.\"\n\n\"So!\" said she. And then fell silent in the thought of the wonder of\nit all, and that there should be men in the world that knew nothing of\nviolence and bloodshed; for in all the eight years of her life she had\nscarcely been outside of the walls of Castle Trutz-Drachen.\n\nAt another time it was of Otto's mother that they were speaking.\n\n\"And didst thou never see her, Otto?\" said the little girl.\n\n\"Aye,\" said Otto, \"I see her sometimes in my dreams, and her face always\nshines so bright that I know she is an angel; for brother John has often\nseen the dear angels, and he tells me that their faces always shine in\nthat way. I saw her the night thy father hurt me so, for I could not\nsleep and my head felt as though it would break asunder. Then she\ncame and leaned over me and kissed my forehead, and after that I fell\nasleep.\"\n\n\"But where did she come from, Otto?\" said the little girl.\n\n\"From paradise, I think,\" said Otto, with that patient seriousness that\nhe had caught from the monks, and that sat so quaintly upon him.\n\n\"So!\" said little Pauline; and then, after a pause, \"That is why thy\nmother kissed thee when thy head ached--because she is an angel. When\nI was sick my mother bade Gretchen carry me to a far part of the house,\nbecause I cried and so troubled her. Did thy mother ever strike thee,\nOtto?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Otto.\n\n\"Mine hath often struck me,\" said Pauline.\n\nOne day little Pauline came bustling into Otto's cell, her head full of\nthe news which she carried. \"My father says that thy father is out\nin the woods somewhere yonder, back of the castle, for Fritz, the\nswineherd, told my father that last night he had seen a fire in the\nwoods, and that he had crept up to it without anyone knowing. There he\nhad seen the Baron Conrad and six of his men, and that they were eating\none of the swine that they had killed and roasted. Maybe,\" said she,\nseating herself upon the edge of Otto's couch; \"maybe my father will\nkill thy father, and they will bring him here and let him lie upon a\nblack bed with bright candles burning around him, as they did my uncle\nFrederick when he was killed.\"\n\n\"God forbid!\" said Otto, and then lay for a while with his hands\nclasped. \"Dost thou love me, Pauline?\" said he, after a while.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Pauline, \"for thou art a good child, though my father says\nthat thy wits are cracked.\"\n\n\"Mayhap they are,\" said Otto, simply, \"for I have often been told so\nbefore. But thou wouldst not see me die, Pauline; wouldst thou?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Pauline, \"I would not see thee die, for then thou couldst\ntell me no more stories; for they told me that uncle Frederick could not\nspeak because he was dead.\"\n\n\"Then listen, Pauline,\" said Otto; \"if I go not away from here I shall\nsurely die. Every day I grow more sick and the leech cannot cure me.\"\nHere he broke down and, turning his face upon the couch, began crying,\nwhile little Pauline sat looking seriously at him.\n\n\"Why dost thou cry, Otto?\" said she, after a while.\n\n\"Because,\" said he, \"I am so sick, and I want my father to come and take\nme away from here.\"\n\n\"But why dost thou want to go away?\" said Pauline. \"If thy father takes\nthee away, thou canst not tell me any more stories.\"\n\n\"Yes, I can,\" said Otto, \"for when I grow to be a man I will come\nagain and marry thee, and when thou art my wife I can tell thee all the\nstories that I know. Dear Pauline, canst thou not tell my father where I\nam, that he may come here and take me away before I die?\"\n\n\"Mayhap I could do so,\" said Pauline, after a little while, \"for\nsometimes I go with Casper Max to see his mother, who nursed me when I\nwas a baby. She is the wife of Fritz, the swineherd, and she will make\nhim tell thy father; for she will do whatever I ask of her, and Fritz\nwill do whatever she bids him do.\"\n\n\"And for my sake, wilt thou tell him, Pauline?\" said Otto.\n\n\"But see, Otto,\" said the little girl, \"if I tell him, wilt thou promise\nto come indeed and marry me when thou art grown a man?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Otto, very seriously, \"I will promise.\"\n\n\"Then I will tell thy father where thou art,\" said she.\n\n\"But thou wilt do it without the Baron Henry knowing, wilt thou not,\nPauline?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said she, \"for if my father and my mother knew that I did such\na thing, they would strike me, mayhap send me to my bed alone in the\ndark.\"\n\n\n\n\nIX. How One-eyed Hans came to Trutz-Drachen.\n\nFritz, the swineherd, sat eating his late supper of porridge out of a\ngreat, coarse, wooden bowl; wife Katherine sat at the other end of the\ntable, and the half-naked little children played upon the earthen floor.\nA shaggy dog lay curled up in front of the fire, and a grunting pig\nscratched against a leg of the rude table close beside where the woman\nsat.\n\n\"Yes, yes,\" said Katherine, speaking of the matter of which they had\nalready been talking. \"It is all very true that the Drachenhausens are a\nbad lot, and I for one am of no mind to say no to that; all the same it\nis a sad thing that a simple-witted little child like the young Baron\nshould be so treated as the boy has been; and now that our Lord Baron\nhas served him so that he, at least, will never be able to do us 'harm,\nI for one say that he should not be left there to die alone in that\nblack cell.\"\n\nFritz, the swineherd, gave a grunt at this without raising his eyes from\nthe bowl.\n\n\"Yes, good,\" said Katherine, \"I know what thou meanest, Fritz, and that\nit is none of my business to be thrusting my finger into the Baron's\ndish. But to hear the way that dear little child spoke when she was here\nthis morn--it would have moved a heart of stone to hear her tell of all\nhis pretty talk. Thou wilt try to let the red-beard know that that poor\nboy, his son, is sick to death in the black cell; wilt thou not, Fritz?\"\n\nThe swineherd dropped his wooden spoon into the bowl with a clatter.\n\"Potstausand!\" he cried; \"art thou gone out of thy head to let thy wits\nrun upon such things as this of which thou talkest to me? If it should\ncome to our Lord Baron's ears he would cut the tongue from out thy head\nand my head from off my shoulders for it. Dost thou think I am going to\nmeddle in such a matter as this? Listen! these proud Baron folk, with\ntheir masterful ways, drive our sort hither and thither; they beat us,\nthey drive us, they kill us as they choose. Our lives are not as much\nto them as one of my black swine. Why should I trouble my head if they\nchoose to lop and trim one another? The fewer there are of them the\nbetter for us, say I. We poor folk have a hard enough life of it without\nthrusting our heads into the noose to help them out of their troubles.\nWhat thinkest thou would happen to us if Baron Henry should hear of our\nbetraying his affairs to the Red-beard?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Katherine, \"thou hast naught to do in the matter but to tell\nthe Red-beard in what part of the castle the little Baron lies.\"\n\n\"And what good would that do?\" said Fritz, the swineherd.\n\n\"I know not,\" said Katherine, \"but I have promised the little one that\nthou wouldst find the Baron Conrad and tell him that much.\"\n\n\"Thou hast promised a mare's egg,\" said her husband, angrily. \"How shall\nI find the Baron Conrad to bear a message to him, when our Baron has\nbeen looking for him in vain for two days past?\"\n\n\"Thou has found him once and thou mayst find him again,\" said Katherine,\n\"for it is not likely that he will keep far away from here whilst his\nboy is in such sore need of help.\"\n\n\"I will have nothing to do with it!\" said Fritz, and he got up from the\nwooden block whereon he was sitting and stumped out of the house. But,\nthen, Katherine had heard him talk in that way before, and knew, in\nspite of his saying \"no,\" that, sooner or later, he would do as she\nwished.\n\nTwo days later a very stout little one-eyed man, clad in a leathern\njerkin and wearing a round leathern cap upon his head, came toiling up\nthe path to the postern door of Trutz-Drachen, his back bowed under the\nburthen of a great peddler's pack. It was our old friend the one-eyed\nHans, though even his brother would hardly have known him in his present\nguise, for, besides having turned peddler, he had grown of a sudden\nsurprisingly fat.\n\nRap-tap-tap! He knocked at the door with a knotted end of the crooked\nthorned staff upon which he leaned. He waited for a while and then\nknocked again--rap-tap-tap!\n\nPresently, with a click, a little square wicket that pierced the door\nwas opened, and a woman's face peered out through the iron bars.\n\nThe one-eyed Hans whipped off his leathern cap.\n\n\"Good day, pretty one,\" said he, \"and hast thou any need of glass beads,\nribbons, combs, or trinkets? Here I am come all the way from Gruenstadt,\nwith a pack full of such gay things as thou never laid eyes on before.\nHere be rings and bracelets and necklaces that might be of pure silver\nand set with diamonds and rubies, for anything that thy dear one could\ntell if he saw thee decked in them. And all are so cheap that thou hast\nonly to say, 'I want them,' and they are thine.\"\n\nThe frightened face at the window looked from right to left and from\nleft to right. \"Hush,\" said the girl, and laid her finger upon her lips.\n\"There! thou hadst best get away from here, poor soul, as fast as thy\nlegs can carry thee, for if the Lord Baron should find thee here talking\nsecretly at the postern door, he would loose the wolf-hounds upon thee.\"\n\n\"Prut,\" said one-eyed Hans, with a grin, \"the Baron is too big a fly to\nsee such a little gnat as I; but wolf-hounds or no wolf-hounds, I\ncan never go hence without showing thee the pretty things that I have\nbrought from the town, even though my stay be at the danger of my own\nhide.\"\n\nHe flung the pack from off his shoulders as he spoke and fell to\nunstrapping it, while the round face of the lass (her eyes big with\ncuriosity) peered down at him through the grated iron bars.\n\nHans held up a necklace of blue and white beads that glistened like\njewels in the sun, and from them hung a gorgeous filigree cross. \"Didst\nthou ever see a sweeter thing than this?\" said he; \"and look, here is a\ncomb that even the silversmith would swear was pure silver all the way\nthrough.\" Then, in a soft, wheedling voice, \"Canst thou not let me in,\nmy little bird? Sure there are other lasses besides thyself who would\nlike to trade with a poor peddler who has travelled all the way from\nGruenstadt just to please the pretty ones of Trutz-Drachen.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said the lass, in a frightened voice, \"I cannot let thee in; I\nknow not what the Baron would do to me, even now, if he knew that I was\nhere talking to a stranger at the postern;\" and she made as if she would\nclap to the little window in his face; but the one-eyed Hans thrust his\nstaff betwixt the bars and so kept the shutter open.\n\n\"Nay, nay,\" said he, eagerly, \"do not go away from me too soon. Look,\ndear one; seest thou this necklace?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said she, looking hungrily at it.\n\n\"Then listen; if thou wilt but let me into the castle, so that I may\nstrike a trade, I will give it to thee for thine own without thy paying\na barley corn for it.\"\n\nThe girl looked and hesitated, and then looked again; the temptation was\ntoo great. There was a noise of softly drawn bolts and bars, the door\nwas hesitatingly opened a little way, and, in a twinkling, the one-eyed\nHans had slipped inside the castle, pack and all.\n\n\"The necklace,\" said the girl, in a frightened whisper.\n\nHans thrust it into her hand. \"It's thine,\" said he, \"and now wilt thou\nnot help me to a trade?\"\n\n\"I will tell my sister that thou art here,\" said she, and away she ran\nfrom the little stone hallway, carefully bolting and locking the further\ndoor behind her.\n\nThe door that the girl had locked was the only one that connected the\npostern hail with the castle.\n\nThe one-eyed Hans stood looking after her. \"Thou fool!\" he muttered to\nhimself, \"to lock the door behind thee. What shall I do next, I should\nlike to know? Here am I just as badly off as I was when I stood outside\nthe walls. Thou hussy! If thou hadst but let me into the castle for only\ntwo little minutes, I would have found somewhere to have hidden myself\nwhile thy back was turned. But what shall I do now?\" He rested his pack\nupon the floor and stood looking about him.\n\nBuilt in the stone wall opposite to him, was a high, narrow fireplace\nwithout carving of any sort. As Hans' one eye wandered around the bare\nstone space, his glance fell at last upon it, and there it rested. For\na while he stood looking intently at it, presently he began rubbing his\nhand over his bristling chin in a thoughtful, meditative manner. Finally\nhe drew a deep breath, and giving himself a shake as though to arouse\nhimself from his thoughts, and after listening a moment or two to\nmake sure that no one was nigh, he walked softly to the fireplace, and\nstooping, peered up the chimney. Above him yawned a black cavernous\ndepth, inky with the soot of years. Hans straightened himself, and\ntilting his leathern cap to one side, began scratching his bullet-head;\nat last he drew a long breath. \"Yes, good,\" he muttered to himself; \"he\nwho jumps into the river must e'en swim the best he can. It is a vile,\ndirty place to thrust one's self; but I am in for it now, and must make\nthe best of a lame horse.\"\n\nHe settled the cap more firmly upon his head, spat upon his hands, and\nonce more stooping in the fireplace, gave a leap, and up the chimney he\nwent with a rattle of loose mortar and a black trickle of soot.\n\nBy and by footsteps sounded outside the door. There was a pause; a\nhurried whispering of women's voices; the twitter of a nervous laugh,\nand then the door was pushed softly opens and the girl to whom the\none-eyed Hans had given the necklace of blue and white beads with the\nfiligree cross hanging from it, peeped uncertainly into the room. Behind\nher broad, heavy face were three others, equally homely and stolid; for\na while all four stood there, looking blankly into the room and around\nit. Nothing was there but the peddler's knapsack lying in the middle of\nthe floor-the man was gone. The light of expectancy slowly faded Out of\nthe girl's face, and in its place succeeded first bewilderment and then\ndull alarm. \"But, dear heaven,\" she said, \"where then has the peddler\nman gone?\"\n\nA moment or two of silence followed her speech. \"Perhaps,\" said one of\nthe others, in a voice hushed with awe, \"perhaps it was the evil one\nhimself to whom thou didst open the door.\"\n\nAgain there was a hushed and breathless pause; it was the lass who had\nlet Hans in at the postern, who next spoke.\n\n\"Yes,\" said she, in a voice trembling with fright at what she had done,\n\"yes, it must have been the evil one, for now I remember he had but one\neye.\" The four girls crossed themselves, and their eyes grew big and\nround with the fright.\n\nSuddenly a shower of mortar came rattling down the chimney. \"Ach!\" cried\nthe four, as with one voice. Bang! the door was clapped to and away they\nscurried like a flock of frightened rabbits.\n\nWhen Jacob, the watchman, came that way an hour later, upon his evening\nround of the castle, he found a peddler's knapsack lying in the middle\nof the floor. He turned it over with his pike-staff and saw that it was\nfull of beads and trinkets and ribbons.\n\n\"How came this here?\" said he. And then, without waiting for the answer\nwhich he did not expect, he flung it over his shoulder and marched away\nwith it.\n\n\n\n\nX. How Hans Brought Terror to the Kitchen.\n\nHans found himself in a pretty pickle in the chimney, for the soot got\ninto his one eye and set it to watering, and into his nose and set him\nto sneezing, and into his mouth and his ears and his hair. But still\nhe struggled on, up and up; \"for every chimney has a top,\" said Hans\nto himself \"and I am sure to climb out somewhere or other.\" Suddenly he\ncame to a place where another chimney joined the one he was climbing,\nand here he stopped to consider the matter at his leisure. \"See now,\" he\nmuttered, \"if I still go upward I may come out at the top of some tall\nchimney-stack with no way of getting down outside. Now, below here\nthere must be a fire-place somewhere, for a chimney does not start from\nnothing at all; yes, good! we will go down a while and see what we make\nof that.\"\n\nIt was a crooked, zigzag road that he had to travel, and rough and hard\ninto the bargain. His one eye tingled and smarted, and his knees and\nelbows were rubbed to the quick; nevertheless One-eyed Hans had been in\nworse trouble than this in his life.\n\nDown he went and down he went, further than he had climbed upward\nbefore. \"Sure, I must be near some place or other,\" he thought.\n\nAs though in instant answer to his thoughts, he heard the sudden sound\nof a voice so close beneath him that he stopped short in his downward\nclimbing and stood as still as a mouse, with his heart in his mouth.\nA few inches more and he would have been discovered;--what would have\nhappened then would have been no hard matter to foretell.\n\nHans braced his back against one side of the chimney, his feet against\nthe other and then, leaning forward, looked down between his knees. The\ngray light of the coming evening glimmered in a wide stone fireplace\njust below him. Within the fireplace two people were moving about upon\nthe broad hearth, a great, fat woman and a shock-headed boy. The woman\nheld a spit with two newly trussed fowls upon it, so that One-eyed Hans\nknew that she must be the cook.\n\n\"Thou ugly toad,\" said the woman to the boy, \"did I not bid thee make a\nfire an hour ago? and now, here there is not so much as a spark to roast\nthe fowls withall, and they to be basted for the lord Baron's supper.\nWhere hast thou been for all this time?\"\n\n\"No matter,\" said the boy, sullenly, as he laid the fagots ready for the\nlighting; \"no matter, I was not running after Long Jacob, the bowman, to\ntry to catch him for a sweetheart, as thou hast been doing.\"\n\nThe reply was instant and ready. The cook raised her hand; \"smack!\" she\nstruck and a roar from the scullion followed.\n\n\"Yes, good,\" thought Hans, as he looked down upon them; \"I am glad that\nthe boy's ear was not on my head.\"\n\n\"Now give me no more of thy talk,\" said the woman, \"but do the work\nthat thou hast been bidden.\" Then--\"How came all this black soot here, I\nshould like to know?\"\n\n\"How should I know?\" snuffled the scullion, \"mayhap thou wouldst blame\nthat on me also?\"\n\n\"That is my doing,\" whispered Hans to himself; \"but if they light the\nfire, what then becomes of me?\"\n\n\"See now,\" said the cook; \"I go to make the cakes ready; if I come back\nand find that thou hast not built the fire, I will warm thy other ear\nfor thee.\"\n\n\"So,\" thought Hans; \"then will be my time to come down the chimney, for\nthere will be but one of them.\"\n\nThe next moment he heard the door close and knew that the cook had gone\nto make the cakes ready as she said. And as he looked down he saw that\nthe boy was bending over the bundle of fagots, blowing the spark that\nhe had brought in upon the punk into a flame. The dry fagots began to\ncrackle and blaze. \"Now is my time,\" said Hans to himself. Bracing his\nelbows against each side of the chimney, he straightened his legs so\nthat he might fall clear His motions loosened little shower of soot that\nfell rattling upon the fagots that were now beginning to blaze brightly,\nwhereupon the boy raised his face and looked up. Hans loosened his hold\nupon the chimney; crash! he fell, lighting upon his feet in the midst\nof the burning fagots. The scullion boy tumbled backward upon the floor,\nwhere he lay upon the broad of his back with a face as white as\ndough and eyes and mouth agape, staring speechlessly at the frightful\ninky-black figure standing in the midst of the flames and smoke. Then\nhis scattered wits came back to him. \"It is the evil one,\" he roared.\nAnd thereupon, turning upon his side, he half rolled, half scrambled to\nthe door. Then out he leaped and, banging it to behind him, flew down\nthe passageway, yelling with fright and never daring once to look behind\nhim.\n\nAll the time One-eyed Hans was brushing away the sparks that clung to\nhis clothes. He was as black as ink from head to foot with the soot from\nthe chimney.\n\n\"So far all is good,\" he muttered to himself, \"but if I go wandering\nabout in my sooty shoes I will leave black tracks to follow me, so there\nis nothing to do but e'en to go barefoot.\"\n\nHe stooped and drawing the pointed soft leather shoes from his feet, he\nthrew them upon the now blazing fagots, where they writhed and twisted\nand wrinkled, and at last burst into a flame. Meanwhile Hans lost no\ntime; he must find a hiding-place, and quickly, if he would yet hope\nto escape. A great bread trough stood in the corner of the kitchen--a\nhopper-shaped chest with a flat lid. It was the best hiding place that\nthe room afforded. Without further thought Hans ran to it, snatching up\nfrom the table as he passed a loaf of black bread and a bottle half full\nof stale wine, for he had had nothing to eat since that morning. Into\nthe great bread trough he climbed, and drawing the lid down upon him,\ncurled himself up as snugly as a mouse in its nest.\n\nFor a while the kitchen lay in silence, but at last the sound of voices\nwas heard at the door, whispering together in low tones. Suddenly the\ndoor was flung open and a tall, lean, lantern-jawed fellow, clad in\nrough frieze, strode into the room and stood there glaring with half\nfrightened boldness around about him; three or four women and the\ntrembling scullion crowded together in a frightened group behind him.\n\nThe man was Long Jacob, the bowman; but, after all, his boldness was\nall wasted, for not a thread or a hair was to be seen, but only the\ncrackling fire throwing its cheerful ruddy glow upon the wall of the\nroom, now rapidly darkening in the falling gray of the twilight without.\n\nThe fat cook's fright began rapidly to turn into anger.\n\n\"Thou imp,\" she cried, \"it is one of thy tricks,\" and she made a dive\nfor the scullion, who ducked around the skirts of one of the other women\nand so escaped for the time; but Long Jacob wrinkled up his nose and\nsniffed. \"Nay,\" said he, \"me thinks that there lieth some truth in the\ntale that the boy hath told, for here is a vile smell of burned horn\nthat the black one bath left behind him.\"\n\nIt was the smell from the soft leather shoes that Hans had burned.\n\nThe silence of night had fallen over the Castle of Trutz-Drachen; not\na sound was heard but the squeaking of mice scurring behind the\nwainscoting, the dull dripping of moisture from the eaves, or the\nsighing of the night wind around the gables and through the naked\nwindows of the castle.\n\nThe lid of the great dough trough was softly raised, and a face, black\nwith soot, peeped cautiously out from under it. Then little by little\narose a figure as black as the face; and One-eyed Hans stepped out upon\nthe floor, stretching and rubbing himself.\n\n\"Methinks I must have slept,\" he muttered. \"Hui, I am as stiff as a new\nleather doublet, and now, what next is to become of me? I hope my luck\nmay yet stick to me, in spite of this foul black soot!\"\n\nAlong the middle of the front of the great hall of the castle, ran a\nlong stone gallery, opening at one end upon the court-yard by a high\nflight of stone steps. A man-at-arms in breast-plate and steel cap, and\nbearing a long pike, paced up and down the length of this gallery, now\nand then stopping, leaning over the edge, and gazing up into the starry\nsky above; then, with a long drawn yawn, lazily turning back to the\nmonotonous watch again.\n\nA dark figure crept out from an arched doorway at the lower part of the\nlong straight building, and some little distance below the end gallery,\nbut the sentry saw nothing of it, for his back was turned. As silently\nand as stealthily as a cat the figure crawled along by the dark shadowy\nwall, now and then stopping, and then again creeping slowly forward\ntoward the gallery where the man-at-arms moved monotonously up and down.\nIt was One-eyed Hans in his bare feet.\n\nInch by inch, foot by foot--the black figure crawled along in the angle\nof the wall; inch by inch and foot by foot, but ever nearer and nearer\nto the long straight row of stone steps that led to the covered gallery.\nAt last it crouched at the lowest step of the flight. Just then the\nsentinel upon watch came to the very end of the gallery and stood there\nleaning upon his spear. Had he looked down below he could not have\nfailed to have seen One-eyed Hans lying there motionlessly; but he was\ngazing far away over the steep black roofs beyond, and never saw the\nunsuspected presence. Minute after minute passed, and the one stood\nthere looking out into the night and the other lay crouching by the\nwall; then with a weary sigh the sentry turned and began slowly pacing\nback again toward the farther end of the gallery.\n\nInstantly the motionless figure below arose and glided noiselessly and\nswiftly up the flight of steps.\n\nTwo rude stone pillars flanked either side of the end of the gallery.\nLike a shadow the black figure slipped behind one of these, flattening\nitself up against the wall, where it stood straight and motionless as\nthe shadows around it.\n\nDown the long gallery came the watchman, his sword clinking loudly in\nthe silence as he walked, tramp, tramp, tramp! clink, clank, jingle.\n\nWithin three feet of the motionless figure behind the pillar he turned,\nand began retracing his monotonous steps. Instantly the other left the\nshadow of the post and crept rapidly and stealthily after him. One step,\ntwo steps the sentinel took; for a moment the black figure behind him\nseemed to crouch and draw together, then like a flash it leaped forward\nupon its victim.\n\nA shadowy cloth fell upon the man's face, and in an instant he was flung\nback and down with a muffled crash upon the stones. Then followed a\nfierce and silent struggle in the darkness, but strong and sturdy as the\nman was, he was no match for the almost superhuman strength of One-eyed\nHans. The cloth which he had flung over his head was tied tightly and\nsecurely. Then the man was forced upon his face and, in spite of his\nfierce struggles, his arms were bound around and around with strong fine\ncord; next his feet were bound in the same way, and the task was done.\nThen Hans stood upon his feet, and wiped the sweat from his swarthy\nforehead. \"Listen, brother,\" he whispered, and as he spoke he stooped\nand pressed something cold and hard against the neck of the other.\n\"Dost thou know the feel of this? It is a broad dagger, and if thou\ndost contrive to loose that gag from thy mouth and makest any outcry, it\nshall be sheathed in thy weasand.\"\n\nSo saying, he thrust the knife back again into its sheath, then stooping\nand picking up the other, he flung him across his shoulder like a sack,\nand running down the steps as lightly as though his load was nothing at\nall, he carried his burden to the arched doorway whence he had come a\nlittle while before. There, having first stripped his prisoner of\nall his weapons, Hans sat the man up in the angle of the wall. \"So,\nbrother;\" said he, \"now we can talk with more ease than we could up\nyonder. I will tell thee frankly why I am here; it is to find where the\nyoung Baron Otto of Drachenhausen is kept. If thou canst tell me,\nwell and good; if not, I must e'en cut thy weasand and find me one who\nknoweth more. Now, canst thou tell me what I would learn, brother?\"\n\nThe other nodded dimly in the darkness.\n\n\"That is good,\" said Hans, \"then I will loose thy gag until thou hast\ntold me; only bear in mind what I said concerning my dagger.\"\n\nThereupon, he unbound his prisoner, and the fellow slowly rose to his\nfeet. He shook himself and looked all about him in a heavy, bewildered\nfashion, as though he had just awakened from a dream.\n\nHis right hand slid furtively down to his side, but the dagger-sheath\nwas empty.\n\n\"Come, brother!\" said Hans, impatiently, \"time is passing, and once lost\ncan never be found again. Show me the way to the young Baron Otto or--.\"\nAnd he whetted the shining blade of his dagger on his horny palm.\n\nThe fellow needed no further bidding; turning, he led the way, and\ntogether they were swallowed up in the yawning shadows, and again the\nhush of night-time lay upon the Castle of Trutz-Drachen.\n\n\n\n\nXI. How Otto was Saved.\n\nLittle Otto was lying upon the hard couch in his cell, tossing in\nrestless and feverish sleep; suddenly a heavy hand was laid upon him and\na voice whispered in his ear, \"Baron, Baron Otto, waken, rouse yourself;\nI am come to help you. I am One-eyed Hans.\"\n\nOtto was awake in an instant and raised himself upon his elbow in the\ndarkness. \"One-eyed Hans,\" he breathed, \"One-eyed Hans; who is One-eyed\nHans?\"\n\n\"True,\" said the other, \"thou dost not know me. I am thy father's\ntrusted servant, and am the only one excepting his own blood and kin\nwho has clung to him in this hour of trouble. Yes, all are gone but me\nalone, and so I have come to help thee away from this vile place.\"\n\n\"Oh, dear, good Hans! if only thou canst!\" cried Otto; \"if only thou\ncanst take me away from this wicked place. Alas, dear Hans! I am weary\nand sick to death.\" And poor little Otto began to weep silently in the\ndarkness.\n\n\"Aye, aye,\" said Hans, gruffly, \"it is no place for a little child\nto be. Canst thou climb, my little master? canst thou climb a knotted\nrope?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Otto, \"I can never climb again! See, Hans;\" and he flung\nback the covers from off him.\n\n\"I cannot see,\" said Hans, \"it is too dark.\"\n\n\"Then feel, dear Hans,\" said Otto.\n\nHans bent over the poor little white figure glimmering palely in the\ndarkness. Suddenly he drew back with a snarl like an angry wolf. \"Oh!\nthe black, bloody wretches!\" he cried, hoarsely; \"and have they done\nthat to thee, a little child?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Otto, \"the Baron Henry did it.\" And then again he began to\ncry.\n\n\"There, there,\" said Hans, roughly, \"weep no more. Thou shalt get away\nfrom here even if thou canst not climb; I myself will help thee. Thy\nfather is already waiting below the window here, and thou shalt soon be\nwith him. There, there, cry no more.\"\n\nWhile he was speaking Hans had stripped off his peddler's leathern\njacket, and there, around his body, was wrapped coil after coil of stout\nhempen rope tied in knots at short distances. He began unwinding the\nrope, and when he had done he was as thin as ever he had been before.\nNext he drew from the pouch that hung at his side a ball of fine cord\nand a leaden weight pierced by a hole, both of which he had brought with\nhim for the use to which he now put them. He tied the lead to the end of\nthe cord, then whirling the weight above his head, he flung it up toward\nthe window high above. Twice the piece of lead fell back again into the\nroom; the third time it flew out between the iron bars carrying the cord\nwith it. Hans held the ball in his hand and paid out the string as the\nweight carried it downward toward the ground beneath. Suddenly the cord\nstopped running. Hans jerked it and shook it, but it moved no farther.\n\"Pray heaven, little child,\" said he, \"that it hath reached the ground,\nfor if it hath not we are certainly lost.\"\n\n\"I do pray,\" said Otto, and he bowed his head.\n\nThen, as though in answer to his prayer, there came a twitch upon the\ncord.\n\n\"See,\" said Hans, \"they have heard thee up above in heaven; it was thy\nfather who did that.\" Quickly and deftly he tied the cord to the end of\nthe knotted rope; then he gave an answering jerk upon the string. The\nnext moment the rope was drawn up to the window and down the outside by\nthose below. Otto lay watching the rope as it crawled up to the window\nand out into the night like a great snake, while One-eyed Hans held the\nother end lest it should be drawn too far. At last it stopped. \"Good,\"\nmuttered Hans, as though to himself. \"The rope is long enough.\"\n\nHe waited for a few minutes and then, drawing upon the rope and finding\nthat it was held from below, he spat upon his hands and began slowly\nclimbing up to the window above. Winding his arm around the iron bars of\nthe grating that guarded it, he thrust his hand into the pouch that hung\nby his side, and drawing forth a file, fell to work cutting through all\nthat now lay between Otto and liberty.\n\nIt was slow, slow work, and it seemed to Otto as though Hans would never\nfinish his task, as lying upon his hard couch he watched that figure,\nblack against the sky, bending over its work. Now and then the file\nscreeched against the hard iron, and then Hans would cease for a moment,\nbut only to begin again as industriously as ever. Three or four times he\ntried the effects of his work, but still the iron held. At last he\nset his shoulder against it, and as Otto looked he saw the iron bend.\nSuddenly there was a sharp crack, and a piece of the grating went flying\nout into the night.\n\nHans tied the rope securely about the stump of the stout iron bar that\nyet remained, and then slid down again into the room below.\n\n\"My little lord,\" said he, \"dost thou think that if I carry thee, thou\nwilt be able and strong enough to cling to my neck?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said Otto, \"methinks I will be able to do that.\"\n\n\"Then come,\" said Hans.\n\nHe stooped as he spoke, and gently lifting Otto from his rude and rugged\nbed he drew his broad leathern belt around them both, buckling it firmly\nand securely. \"It does not hurt thee?\" said he.\n\n\"Not much,\" whispered Otto faintly.\n\nThen Hans spat upon his hands, and began slowly climbing the rope.\n\nThey reached the edge of the window and there they rested for a moment,\nand Otto renewed his hold around the neck of the faithful Hans.\n\n\"And now art thou ready?\" said Hans\n\n\"Aye,\" said Otto.\n\n\"Then courage,\" said Hans, and he turned and swung his leg over the\nabyss below.\n\nThe next moment they were hanging in mid-air.\n\nOtto looked down and gave a gasp. \"The mother of heaven bless us,\" he\nwhispered, and then closed his eyes, faint and dizzy at the sight of\nthat sheer depth beneath. Hans said nothing, but shutting his teeth\nand wrapping his legs around the rope, he began slowly descending, hand\nunder hand. Down, down, down he went, until to Otto, with his eyes shut\nand his head leaning upon Hans' shoulder, it seemed as though it could\nnever end. Down, down, down. Suddenly he felt Hans draw a deep breath;\nthere was a slight jar, and Otto opened his eyes; Hans was standing upon\nthe ground.\n\nA figure wrapped in a dark cloak arose from the shadow of the wall, and\ntook Otto in its arms. It was Baron Conrad.\n\n\"My son--my little child!\" he cried, in a choked, trembling voice, and\nthat was all. And Otto pressed his cheek against his father's and began\ncrying.\n\nSuddenly the Baron gave a sharp, fierce cry. \"Dear Heaven!\" he cried;\n\"what have they done to thee?\" But poor little Otto could not answer.\n\n\"Oh!\" gasped the Baron, in a strangled voice, \"my little child! my\nlittle child!\" And therewith he broke down, and his whole body shook\nwith fierce, dry sobs; for men in those days did not seek to hide their\ngrief as they do now, but were fierce and strong in the expression of\nthat as of all else.\n\n\"Never mind, dear father,\" whispered Otto; \"it did not hurt me so very\nmuch,\" and he pressed his lips against his father's cheek.\n\nLittle Otto had but one hand.\n\n\n\n\nXII. A Ride For Life.\n\nBut not yet was Otto safe, and all danger past and gone by. Suddenly, as\nthey stood there, the harsh clangor of a bell broke the silence of\nthe starry night above their heads, and as they raised their faces and\nlooked up, they saw lights flashing from window to window. Presently\ncame the sound of a hoarse voice shouting something that, from the\ndistance, they could not understand.\n\nOne-eyed Hans smote his hand upon his thigh. Look said he, \"here is\nwhat comes of having a soft heart in one's bosom. I overcame and bound a\nwatchman up yonder, and forced him to tell me where our young Baron lay.\nIt was on my mind to run my knife into him after he had told me every\nthing, but then, bethinking how the young Baron hated the thought of\nbloodshed, I said to myself, 'No, Hans, I will spare the villain's\nlife.' See now what comes of being merciful; here, by hook or by crook,\nthe fellow has loosed himself from his bonds, and brings the whole\ncastle about our ears like a nest of wasps.\"\n\n\"We must fly,\" said the Baron; \"for nothing else in the world is\nleft me, now that all have deserted me in this black time of trouble,\nexcepting these six faithful ones.\"\n\nHis voice was bitter, bitter, as he spoke; then stooping, he raised Otto\nin his arms, and bearing him gently, began rapidly descending the rocky\nslope to the level road that ran along the edge of the hill beneath.\nClose behind him followed the rest; Hans still grimed with soot and in\nhis bare feet. A little distance from the road and under the shade of\nthe forest trees, seven horses stood waiting. The Baron mounted upon\nhis great black charger, seating little Otto upon the saddle in front of\nhim. \"Forward!\" he cried, and away they clattered and out upon the road.\nThen--\"To St. Michaelsburg,\" said Baron Conrad, in his deep voice, and\nthe horses' heads were turned to the westward, and away they galloped\nthrough the black shadows of the forest, leaving Trutz-Drachen behind\nthem.\n\nBut still the sound of the alarm bell rang through the beating of the\nhorses' hoofs, and as Hans looked over his shoulder, he saw the light\nof torches flashing hither and thither along the outer walls in front of\nthe great barbican.\n\nIn Castle Trutz-Drachen all was confusion and uproar: flashing torches\nlit up the dull gray walls; horses neighed and stamped, and men shouted\nand called to one another in the bustle of making ready. Presently Baron\nHenry came striding along the corridor clad in light armor, which he had\nhastily donned when roused from his sleep by the news that his prisoner\nhad escaped. Below in the courtyard his horse was standing, and without\nwaiting for assistance, he swung himself into the saddle. Then away they\nall rode and down the steep path, armor ringing, swords clanking, and\niron-shod hoofs striking sparks of fire from the hard stones. At their\nhead rode Baron Henry; his triangular shield hung over his shoulder, and\nin his hand he bore a long, heavy, steel-pointed lance with a pennant\nflickering darkly from the end.\n\nAt the high-road at the base of the slope they paused, for they were at\na loss to know which direction the fugitives had taken; a half a score\nof the retainers leaped from their horses, and began hurrying about\nhither and thither, and up and down, like hounds searching for the lost\nscent, and all the time Baron Henry sat still as a rock in the midst of\nthe confusion.\n\nSuddenly a shout was raised from the forest just beyond the road; they\nhad come upon the place where the horses had been tied. It was an easy\nmatter to trace the way that Baron Conrad and his followers had taken\nthence back to the high-road, but there again they were at a loss. The\nroad ran straight as an arrow eastward and westward--had the fugitives\ntaken their way to the east or to the west?\n\nBaron Henry called his head-man, Nicholas Stein, to him, and the\ntwo spoke together for a while in an undertone. At last the Baron's\nlieutenant reined his horse back, and choosing first one and then\nanother, divided the company into two parties. The baron placed himself\nat the head of one band and Nicholas Stein at the head of the other.\n\"Forward!\" he cried, and away clattered the two companies of horsemen in\nopposite directions.\n\nIt was toward the westward that Baron Henry of Trutz-Drachen rode at the\nhead of his men.\n\nThe early springtide sun shot its rays of misty, yellow light across the\nrolling tops of the forest trees where the little birds were singing in\nthe glory of the May morning. But Baron Henry and his followers thought\nnothing of the beauty of the peaceful day, and heard nothing of the\nmultitudinous sound of the singing birds as, with a confused sound of\ngalloping hoofs, they swept along the highway, leaving behind them a\nslow-curling, low-trailing cloud of dust.\n\nAs the sun rose more full and warm, the misty wreaths began to dissolve,\nuntil at last they parted and rolled asunder like a white curtain and\nthere, before the pursuing horsemen, lay the crest of the mountain\ntoward which they were riding, and up which the road wound steeply.\n\n\"Yonder they are,\" cried a sudden voice behind Baron Henry of\nTrutz-Drachen, and at the cry all looked upward.\n\nFar away upon the mountain-side curled a cloud of dust, from the midst\nof which came the star-like flash of burnished armor gleaming in the\nsun.\n\nBaron Henry said never a word, but his lips curled in a grim smile.\n\nAnd as the mist wreaths parted One-eyed Hans looked behind and down\ninto the leafy valley beneath. \"Yonder they come,\" said he. \"They have\nfollowed sharply to gain so much upon us, even though our horses are\nwearied with all the travelling we have done hither and yon these five\ndays past. How far is it, Lord Baron, from here to Michaelsburg?\"\n\n\"About ten leagues,\" said the Baron, in a gloomy voice.\n\nHans puckered his mouth as though to whistle, but the Baron saw nothing\nof it, for he was gazing straight before him with a set and stony face.\nThose who followed him looked at one another, and the same thought was\nin the mind of each--how long would it be before those who pursued would\nclose the distance between them?\n\nWhen that happened it meant death to one and all.\n\nThey reached the crest of the hill, and down they dashed upon the other\nside; for there the road was smooth and level as it sloped away into the\nvalley, but it was in dead silence that they rode. Now and then those\nwho followed the Baron looked back over their shoulders. They had gained\na mile upon their pursuers when the helmeted heads rose above the crest\nof the mountain, but what was the gain of a mile with a smooth road\nbetween them, and fresh horses to weary ones?\n\nOn they rode and on they rode. The sun rose higher and higher, and\nhotter and hotter. There was no time to rest and water their panting\nhorses. Only once, when they crossed a shallow stretch of water, the\npoor animals bent their heads and caught a few gulps from the cool\nstream, and the One-eyed Hans washed a part of the soot from his hands\nand face. On and on they rode; never once did the Baron Conrad move his\nhead or alter that steadfast look as, gazing straight before him, he\nrode steadily forward along the endless stretch of road, with poor\nlittle Otto's yellow head and white face resting against his steel-clad\nshoulder--and St. Michaelsburg still eight leagues away.\n\nA little rise of ground lay before them, and as they climbed it, all,\nexcepting the baron, turned their heads as with one accord and looked\nbehind them. Then more than one heart failed, for through the leaves\nof the trees below, they caught the glint of armor of those who\nfollowed--not more than a mile away. The next moment they swept over the\ncrest, and there, below them, lay the broad shining river, and nearer a\ntributary stream spanned by a rude, narrow, three-arched, stone bridge\nwhere the road crossed the deep, slow-moving water.\n\nDown the slope plodded the weary horses, and so to the bridge-head.\n\n\"Halt,\" cried the baron suddenly, and drew rein.\n\nThe others stood bewildered. What did he mean to do? He turned to Hans\nand his blue eyes shone like steel.\n\n\"Hans,\" said he, in his deep voice, \"thou hast served me long and truly;\nwilt thou for this one last time do my bidding?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said Hans, briefly.\n\n\"Swear it,\" said the Baron.\n\n\"I swear it,\" said Hans, and he drew the sign of the cross upon his\nheart.\n\n\"That is good,\" said the Baron, grimly. \"Then take thou this child,\nand with the others ride with all the speed that thou canst to St.\nMichaelsburg. Give the child into the charge of the Abbot Otto. Tell\nhim how that I have sworn fealty to the Emperor, and what I have gained\nthereby--my castle burnt, my people slain, and this poor, simple child,\nmy only son, mutilated by my enemy.\n\n\"And thou, my Lord Baron?\" said Hans.\n\n\"I will stay here,\" said the Baron, quietly, \"and keep back those who\nfollow as long as God will give me grace so to do.\"\n\nA murmur of remonstrance rose among the faithful few who were with\nhim, two of whom were near of kin. But Conrad of Drachenhausen turned\nfiercely upon them.\n\n\"How now,\" said he, \"have I fallen so low in my troubles that even ye\ndare to raise your voices against me? By the good Heaven, I will begin\nmy work here by slaying the first man who dares to raise word against\nmy bidding.\" Then he turned from them. \"Here, Hans,\" said he, \"take the\nboy; and remember, knave, what thou hast sworn.\"\n\nHe pressed Otto close to his breast in one last embrace. \"My little\nchild,\" he murmured, \"try not to hate thy father when thou thinkest of\nhim hereafter, even though he be hard and bloody as thou knowest.\"\n\nBut with his suffering and weakness, little Otto knew nothing of what\nwas passing; it was only as in a faint flickering dream that he lived in\nwhat was done around him.\n\n\"Farewell, Otto,\" said the Baron, but Otto's lips only moved faintly in\nanswer. His father kissed him upon either cheek. \"Come, Hans,\" said\nhe, hastily, \"take him hence;\" and he loosed Otto's arms from about his\nneck.\n\nHans took Otto upon the saddle in front of him.\n\n\"Oh! my dear Lord Baron,\" said he, and then stopped with a gulp, and\nturned his grotesquely twitching face aside.\n\n\"Go,\" said the Baron, harshly, \"there is no time to lose in woman's\ntears.\"\n\n\"Farewell, Conrad! farewell, Conrad!\" said his two kinsmen, and coming\nforward they kissed him upon the cheek then they turned and rode away\nafter Hans, and Baron Conrad was left alone to face his mortal foe.\n\n\n\n\nXIII. How Baron Conrad Held the Bridge.\n\nAs the last of his followers swept around the curving road and was lost\nto sight, Baron Conrad gave himself a shake, as though to drive away the\nthoughts that lay upon him. Then he rode slowly forward to the middle of\nthe bridge, where he wheeled his horse so as to face his coming enemies.\nHe lowered the vizor of his helmet and bolted it to its place, and then\nsaw that sword and dagger were loose in the scabbard and easy to draw\nwhen the need for drawing should arise.\n\n\nDown the steep path from the hill above swept the pursuing horsemen.\nDown the steep path to the bridge-head and there drew rein; for in the\nmiddle of the narrow way sat the motionless, steel-clad figure upon the\ngreat war-horse, with wide, red, panting nostrils, and body streaked\nwith sweat and flecked with patches of foam.\n\nOne side of the roadway of the bridge was guarded by a low stone wall;\nthe other side was naked and open and bare to the deep, slow-moving\nwater beneath. It was a dangerous place to attack a desperate man clad\nin armor of proof.\n\n\"Forward!\" cried Baron Henry, but not a soul stirred in answer, and\nstill the iron-clad figure sat motionless and erect upon the panting\nhorse.\n\n\"How,\" cried the Baron Henry, \"are ye afraid of one man? Then follow\nme!\" and he spurred forward to the bridge-head. But still no one moved\nin answer, and the Lord of Trutz-Drachen reined back his horse again.\nHe wheeled his horse and glared round upon the stolid faces of his\nfollowers, until his eyes seemed fairly to blaze with passion beneath\nthe bars of his vizor.\n\nBaron Conrad gave a roar of laughter. \"How now,\" he cried; \"are ye all\nafraid of one man? Is there none among ye that dares come forward and\nmeet me? I know thee, Baron Henry thou art not afraid to cut off the\nhand of a little child. Hast thou not now the courage to face the\nfather?\"\n\nBaron Henry gnashed his teeth with rage as he glared around upon the\nfaces of his men-at-arms. Suddenly his eye lit upon one of them. \"Ha!\nCarl Spigler,\" he cried, \"thou hast thy cross-bow with thee;--shoot me\ndown yonder dog! Nay,\" he said, \"thou canst do him no harm under his\narmor; shoot the horse upon which he sits.\"\n\nBaron Conrad heard the speech. \"Oh! thou coward villain!\" he cried,\n\"stay; do not shoot the good horse. I will dismount and fight ye upon\nfoot.\" Thereupon, armed as he was, he leaped clashing from his horse and\nturning the animal's head, gave it a slap upon the flank. The good horse\nfirst trotted and then walked to the further end of the bridge, where it\nstopped and began cropping at the grass that grew beside the road.\n\n\"Now then!\" cried Baron Henry, fiercely, \"now then, ye cannot fear him,\nvillains! Down with him! forward!\"\n\nSlowly the troopers spurred their horses forward upon the bridge and\ntoward that one figure that, grasping tightly the great two-handed\nsword, stood there alone guarding the passage.\n\nThen Baron Conrad whirled the great blade above his head, until it\ncaught the sunlight and flashed again. He did not wait for the attack,\nbut when the first of the advancing horsemen had come within a few feet\nof him, he leaped with a shout upon them. The fellow thrust at him with\nhis lance, and the Baron went staggering a few feet back, but instantly\nhe recovered himself and again leaped forward. The great sword flashed\nin the air, whistling; it fell, and the nearest man dropped his lance,\nclattering, and with a loud, inarticulate cry, grasped the mane of his\nhorse with both hands. Again the blade whistled in the air, and this\ntime it was stained with red. Again it fell, and with another shrill cry\nthe man toppled headlong beneath the horse's feet. The next instant they\nwere upon him, each striving to strike at the one figure, to ride him\ndown, or to thrust him down with their lances. There was no room now to\nswing the long blade, but holding the hilt in both hands, Baron Conrad\nthrust with it as though it were a lance, stabbing at horse or man, it\nmattered not. Crowded upon the narrow roadway of the bridge, those who\nattacked had not only to guard themselves against the dreadful strokes\nof that terrible sword, but to keep their wounded horses (rearing and\nmad with fright) from toppling bodily over with them into the water\nbeneath.\n\nPresently the cry was raised, \"Back! back!\" And those nearest the Baron\nbegan reining in their horses. \"Forward!\" roared Baron Henry, from the\nmidst of the crowd; but in spite of his command, and even the blows that\nhe gave, those behind were borne back by those in front, struggling and\nshouting, and the bridge was cleared again excepting for three figures\nthat lay motionless upon the roadway, and that one who, with the\nbrightness of his armor dimmed and stained, leaned panting against the\nwall of the bridge.\n\nThe Baron Henry raged like a madman. Gnashing his teeth together, he\nrode back a little way; then turning and couching his lance, he suddenly\nclapped spurs to his horse, and the next instant came thundering down\nupon his solitary enemy.\n\nBaron Conrad whirled his sword in the air, as he saw the other coming\nlike a thunderbolt upon him; he leaped aside, and the lance passed close\nto him. As it passed he struck, and the iron point flew from the shaft\nof the spear at the blow, and fell clattering upon the stone roadway of\nthe bridge.\n\nBaron Henry drew in his horse until it rested upon its haunches, then\nslowly reined it backward down the bridge, still facing his foe,\nand still holding the wooden stump of the lance in his hand. At the\nbridge-head he flung it from him.\n\n\"Another lance!\" he cried, hoarsely. One was silently reached to him\nand he took it, his hand trembling with rage. Again he rode to a little\ndistance and wheeled his horse; then, driving his steel spurs into its\nquivering side, he came again thundering down upon the other. Once more\nthe terrible sword whirled in the air and fell, but this time the lance\nwas snatched to one side and the blow fell harmlessly. The next instant,\nand with a twitch of the bridle-rein, the horse struck full and fair\nagainst the man.\n\nConrad of Drachenhausen was whirled backward and downward, and the cruel\niron hoofs crashed over his prostrate body, as horse and man passed with\na rush beyond him and to the bridge-head beyond. A shout went up from\nthose who stood watching. The next moment the prostrate figure rose and\nstaggered blindly to the side of the bridge, and stood leaning against\nthe stone wall.\n\nAt the further end of the bridge Baron Henry had wheeled his horse. Once\nagain he couched lance, and again he drove down upon his bruised and\nwounded enemy. This time the lance struck full and fair, and those who\nwatched saw the steel point pierce the iron breast-plate and then snap\nshort, leaving the barbed point within the wound.\n\nBaron Conrad sunk to his knees and the Roderburg, looming upon his horse\nabove him, unsheathed his sword to finish the work he had begun.\n\nThen those who stood looking on saw a wondrous thing happen: the wounded\nman rose suddenly to his feet, and before his enemy could strike he\nleaped, with a great and bitter cry of agony and despair, upon him as he\nsat in the saddle above.\n\nHenry of Trutz-Drachen grasped at his horse's mane, but the attack\nwas so fierce, so sudden, and so unexpected that before he could save\nhimself he was dragged to one side and fell crashing in his armor upon\nthe stone roadway of the bridge.\n\n\"The dragon! the dragon!\" roared Baron Conrad, in a voice of thunder,\nand with the energy of despair he dragged his prostrate foe toward the\nopen side of the bridge.\n\n\"Forward!\" cried the chief of the Trutz-Drachen men, and down they rode\nupon the struggling knights to the rescue of their master in this new\ndanger. But they were too late.\n\nThere was a pause at the edge of the bridge, for Baron Henry had gained\nhis feet and, stunned and bewildered as he was by the suddenness of his\nfall, he was now struggling fiercely, desperately. For a moment they\nstood swaying backward and forward, clasped in one another's arms, the\nblood from the wounded man's breast staining the armor of both. The\nmoment passed and then, with a shower of stones and mortar from beneath\ntheir iron-shod heels, they toppled and fell; there was a thunderous\nsplash in the water below, and as the men-at-arms came hurrying up and\npeered with awe-struck faces over the parapet of the bridge, they saw\nthe whirling eddies sweep down with the current of the stream, a few\nbubbles rise to the surface of the water, and then--nothing; for the\nsmooth river flowed onward as silently as ever.\n\nPresently a loud voice burst through the awed hush that followed. It\ncame from William of Roderburg, Baron Henry's kinsman.\n\n\"Forward!\" he cried. A murmur of voices from the others was all the\nanswer that he received. \"Forward!\" cried the young man again, \"the boy\nand those with him are not so far away but that we might yet catch up\nwith them.\"\n\nThen one of the men spoke up in answer--a man with a seamed,\nweather-beaten face and crisp grizzled hair. \"Nay,\" said he, \"our Lord\nBaron is gone, and this is no quarrel of ours; here be four of us that\nare wounded and three I misdoubt that are dead; why should we follow\nfurther only to suffer more blows for no gain?\" A growl of assent rose\nfrom those that stood around, and William of Roderburg saw that nothing\nmore was to be done by the Trutz-Dragons that day.\n\n\n\n\nXIV. How Otto Saw the Great Emperor.\n\nThrough weakness and sickness and faintness, Otto had lain in a half\nswoon through all that long journey under the hot May sun. It was as in\na dreadful nightmare that he had heard on and on and on that monotonous\nthrobbing of galloping hoofs upon the ground; had felt that last kiss\nthat his father had given him upon his cheek. Then the onward ride\nagain, until all faded away into a dull mist and he knew no more. When\nnext he woke it was with the pungent smell of burned vinegar in his\nnostrils and with the feeling of a cool napkin bathing his brow. He\nopened his eyes and then closed them again, thinking he must have been\nin a dream, for he lay in his old room at the peaceful monastery of the\nWhite Cross on the hill; the good Father Abbot sat near by, gazing upon\nhis face with the old absent student look, Brother John sat in the deep\nwindow seat also gazing at him, and Brother Theodore, the leech of the\nmonastery, sat beside him bathing his head. Beside these old familiar\nfaces were the faces of those who had been with him in that long flight;\nthe One-eyed Hans, old Master Nicholas his kinsman, and the others.\nSo he closed his eyes, thinking that maybe it was all a dream. But the\nsharp throbbing of the poor stump at his wrist soon taught him that he\nwas still awake.\n\n\"Am I then really home in St. Michaelsburg again?\" he murmured, without\nunclosing his eyes.\n\nBrother Theodore began snuffling through his nose; there was a pause.\n\"Yes,\" said the old Abbot at last, and his gentle voice trembled as\nhe spoke; \"yes, my dear little child, thou art back again in thine own\nhome; thou hast not been long out in the great world, but truly thou\nhast had a sharp and bitter trial of it.\"\n\n\"But they will not take me away again, will they?\" said Otto quickly,\nunclosing his blue eyes.\n\n\"Nay,\" said the Abbot, gently; \"not until thou art healed in body and\nart ready and willing to go.\"\n\nThree months and more had passed, and Otto was well again; and now,\nescorted by One-eyed Hans and those faithful few who had clung to the\nBaron Conrad through his last few bitter days, he was riding into the\nquaint old town of Nurnburg; for the Emperor Rudolph was there at that\ntime, waiting for King Ottocar of Bohemia to come thither and answer\nthe imperial summons before the Council, and Otto was travelling to the\ncourt.\n\nAs they rode in through the gates of the town, Otto looked up at the\nhigh-peaked houses with their overhanging gables, the like of which he\nhad never seen before, and he stared with his round blue eyes at seeing\nthem so crowded together along the length of the street. But most of\nall he wondered at the number of people that passed hither and thither,\njostling each other in their hurry, and at the tradesmen's booths\nopening upon the street with the wonderful wares hanging within; armor\nat the smiths, glittering ornaments at the goldsmiths, and rich fabrics\nof silks and satins at the mercers. He had never seen anything so rich\nand grand in all of his life, for little Otto had never been in a town\nbefore.\n\n\"Oh! look,\" he cried, \"at that wonderful lady; see, holy father! sure\nthe Emperor's wife can be no finer than that lady.\"\n\nThe Abbot smiled. \"Nay, Otto,\" said he, \"that is but a burgher's wife or\ndaughter; the ladies at the Emperor's court are far grander than such as\nshe.\"\n\n\"So!\" said Otto, and then fell silent with wonder.\n\nAnd now, at last the great moment had come when little Otto with his own\neyes was to behold the mighty Emperor who ruled over all the powerful\nkingdoms of Germany and Austria, and Italy and Bohemia, and other\nkingdoms and principalities and states. His heart beat so that he could\nhardly speak as, for a moment, the good Abbot who held him by the hand\nstopped outside of the arrased doorway to whisper some last instructions\ninto his ear. Then they entered the apartment.\n\nIt was a long, stone-paved room. The floor was covered with rich rugs\nand the walls were hung with woven tapestry wherein were depicted\nknights and ladies in leafy gardens and kings and warriors at battle.\nA long row of high glazed windows extended along the length of the\napartment, flooding it with the mellow light of the autumn day. At\nthe further end of the room, far away, and standing by a great carved\nchimney place wherein smouldered the remains of a fire, stood a group of\nnobles in gorgeous dress of velvet and silks, and with glittering golden\nchains hung about their necks.\n\nOne figure stood alone in front of the great yawning fireplace. His\nhands were clasped behind him, and his look bent thoughtfully upon the\nfloor. He was dressed only in a simple gray robe without ornament or\nadornment, a plain leathern belt girded his waist, and from it hung a\nsword with a bone hilt encased in a brown leathern scabbard. A noble\nstag-hound lay close behind him, curled up upon the floor, basking in\nthe grateful warmth of the fire.\n\nAs the Father Abbot and Otto drew near he raised his head and looked\nat them. It was a plain, homely face that Otto saw, with a wrinkled\nforehead and a long mouth drawn down at the corners. It was the face of\na good, honest burgher burdened with the cares of a prosperous trade.\n\"Who can he be,\" thought Otto, \"and why does the poor man stand there\namong all the great nobles?\"\n\nBut the Abbot walked straight up to him and kneeled upon the floor,\nand little Otto, full of wonder, did the same. It was the great Emperor\nRudolph.\n\n\"Who have we here,\" said the Emperor, and he bent his brow upon the\nAbbot and the boy.\n\n\"Sire,\" said Abbot Otto, \"we have humbly besought you by petition, in\nthe name of your late vassal, Baron Conrad of Vuelph of Drachenhausen,\nfor justice to this his son, the Baron Otto, whom, sire, as you may see,\nhath been cruelly mutilated at the hands of Baron Henry of Roderburg of\nTrutz-Drachen. He hath moreover been despoiled of his lands, his castle\nburnt, and his household made prisoner.\"\n\nThe Emperor frowned until the shaggy eyebrows nearly hid the keen gray\ntwinkle of the eyes beneath. \"Yes,\" said he, \"I do remember me of\nthat petition, and have given it consideration both in private and in\ncouncil.\" He turned to the group of listening nobles. \"Look,\" said he,\n\"at this little child marred by the inhumanity and the cruelty of those\nrobber villains. By heavens! I will put down their lawless rapine, if I\nhave to give every castle from the north to the south to the flames and\nto the sword.\" Then turning to Otto again, \"Poor little child,\" said he,\n\"thy wrongs shall be righted, and so far as they are able, those cruel\nRoderburgs shall pay thee penny for penny, and grain for grain, for what\nthou hast lost; and until such indemnity hath been paid the family of\nthe man who wrought this deed shall be held as surety.\"\n\nLittle Otto looked up in the kind, rugged face above him. \"Nay, Lord\nEmperor,\" said he, in his quaint, quiet way, \"there are but two in the\nfamily--the mother and the daughter--and I have promised to marry the\nlittle girl when she and I are old enough; so, if you please, I would\nnot have harm happen to her.\"\n\nThe Emperor continued to look down at the kneeling boy, and at last he\ngave a short, dry laugh. \"So be it,\" said he, \"thy plan is not without\nits wisdom. Mayhap it is all for the best that the affair should be\nended thus peacefully. The estates of the Roderburgs shall be held in\ntrust for thee until thou art come of age; otherwise it shall be as thou\nhast proposed, the little maiden shall be taken into ward under our own\ncare. And as to thee--art thou willing that I should take thee under my\nown charge in the room of thy father, who is dead?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said Otto, simply, \"I am willing, for it seems to me that thou\nart a good man.\"\n\nThe nobles who stood near smiled at the boy's speech. As for the\nEmperor, he laughed outright. \"I give thee thanks, my Lord Baron,\" said\nhe; \"there is no one in all my court who has paid me greater courtesy\nthan that.\"\n\nSo comes the end of our tale.\n\nBut perhaps you may like to know what happened afterward, for no one\ncares to leave the thread of a story without tying a knot in it.\n\nEight years had passed, and Otto grew up to manhood in the Emperor's\ncourt, and was with him through war and peace.\n\nBut he himself never drew sword or struck a blow, for the right hand\nthat hung at his side was of pure silver, and the hard, cold fingers\nnever closed. Folks called him \"Otto of the Silver Hand,\" but perhaps\nthere was another reason than that for the name that had been given him,\nfor the pure, simple wisdom that the old monks of the White Cross on\nthe hill had taught him, clung to him through all the honors that the\nEmperor bestowed upon his favorite, and as he grew older his words were\nlistened to and weighed by those who were high in Council, and even by\nthe Emperor himself.\n\nAnd now for the end of all.\n\nOne day Otto stood uncertainly at the doorway of a room in the imperial\ncastle, hesitating before he entered; and yet there was nothing so very\ndreadful within, only one poor girl whose heart fluttered more than his.\nPoor little Pauline, whom he had not seen since that last day in the\nblack cell at Trutz-Drachen.\n\nAt last he pushed aside the hangings and entered the room.\n\nShe was sitting upon a rude bench beside the window, looking at him out\nof her great, dark eyes.\n\nHe stopped short and stood for a moment confused and silent; for he had\nno thought in his mind but of the little girl whom he had last seen, and\nfor a moment he stood confused before the fair maiden with her great,\nbeautiful dark eyes.\n\nShe on her part beheld a tall, slender youth with curling, golden hair,\none hand white and delicate, the other of pure and shining silver.\n\nHe came to her and took her hand and set it to his lips, and all that\nshe could do was to gaze with her great, dark eyes upon the hero of whom\nshe had heard so many talk; the favorite of the Emperor; the wise young\nOtto of the Silver Hand.\n\n\n\n\nAfterword\n\nThe ruins of Drachenhausen were rebuilt, for the walls were as sound as\never, though empty and gaping to the sky; but it was no longer the den\nof a robber baron for beneath the scutcheon over the great gate was\ncarved a new motto of the Vuelphs; a motto which the Emperor Rudolph\nhimself had given:\n\n\"Manus argentea quam manus ferrea melior est.\"\n\n\n\n\n\nEnd of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Otto of the Silver Hand, by Howard Pyle\n\nNow, answer the question based on the story asconcisely as you can, using a single phrase if possible. Do not provide any explanation.\n\nQuestion: Why does Baron Henry attack Castle Drachenhausen?\n\nAnswer:"}
{"question_id": 133, "category": "longbench_narrativeqa", "reference": ["Governor"], "prompt": "You are given a story, which can be either a novel or a movie script, and a question. Answer the question asconcisely as you can, using a single phrase if possible. Do not provide any explanation.\n\nStory: \t\t\t\t\t\tGhostbusters II\n\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\tby\n\t\t\t\t\t\tHarold Ramis\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\tand\n\t\t\t\t\t\tDan Aykroyd\n\n\t\t\t\t\t September 29, 1988\n\t\t\t\tLast revised Feburary 27, 1989\n\n\n<b>EXT.  MANHATTAN ISLAND - DAY\n</b>\nA high AERIAL SHOT of the island features the Statue of Liberty\nprominently in the foreground then TRAVELS ACROSS the harbor, OVER the\nBattery and Lower Manhattan to Greenwich Village.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - DAY\n</b>\nA car is being hoisted up by a municipal tow truck while its owner is\nhaving a terrible screaming arguement with a parking enforcement officer.\nDANA BARRETT comes home pushing a baby buggy, struggling with two full\nbags of groceries, and trying to dig her keys out of her purse. The\n\nbuilding superintendent FRANK, sees her struggling but pretends not to\nnotice.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (exasperated)\n\t\t\tFrank, do you think you could give me a hand\n\t\t\twith these bags?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\tI'm not a doorman, Miss Barrett.  I'm a\n\t\t\tbuilding superintendent.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tYou're also a human being, Frank.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reluctantly going to help)\n\t\t\tOkay, okay.  It's not my job, but what the\n\t\t\thell.  I'll do you a favor.  He takes the\n\t\t\tgrocery bags from her.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (setting the wheel brakes on\n\t\t\t\t the buggy)\n\t\t\tThank you, Frank.  I'll get the hang of this\n\t\t\teventually.\n\nShe continues digging in her purse while Frank leans over the buggy and\nmakes funny faces at the baby, OSCAR, a very cute nine-month old boy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the baby)\n\t\t\tHiya, Oscar.  What do you say, slugger?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tThat's a good-looking kid you got there, Ms.\n\t\t\tBarrett.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (finding her keys)\n\t\t\tThank you, Frank.  Oh, are you ever going to\n\t\t\tfix the radiator in my bedroom?  I asked you\n\t\t\tlast week.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\tDidn't I do it?\n\n<b>BABY BUGGY\n</b>\nIt starts to vibrate as if shaken by an unseen hand.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - BABY - DAY\n</b>\nHe GURGLES with delight at the movement.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - DANA AND FRANK - DAY\n</b>\nNeither of them notice the movement of the carriage.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tNo, you didn't, Frank.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, that's no problem.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThat's exactly what you said last week.\n\n<b>BUGGY WHEELS\n</b>\nThe brakes unlock themselves.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe reaches for the handlebar of the buggy, but the buggy rolls forward\njust out of her reach and stops.  Surprised by the movement, she reaches\nfor the handlebar again, but this time the buggy rolls away even\nfurther.  Alarmed now, Dana hurries after it, but the buggy keeps\nrolling down the street at ever increasing speed.\n\n<b>SIDEWALK\n</b>\nDana chases the buggy down the street, shouting to passing pedestrians\nfor help, but every time someone reaches out to stop it, the buggy\nswerves and continues unchecked.\n\n<b>INTERSECTION\n</b>\nCars, trucks, and buses speed by in both directions as the buggy races\ntoward the corner.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe puts her head down and sprints after the buggy like an Olympian.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - INTERSECTION - DAY\n</b>\nA city bus is on a collision course with the speeding baby buggy.\n\n<b>BUGGY\n</b>\nIt careens toward the corner.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - BABY - DAY\n</b>\nIts eyes are wide open with excitement.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - INTERSECTION - DAY\n</b>\nBus and buggy are closing fast as the buggy bounces over the curb and\ninto the crosswalk.\n\n<b>BUS\n</b>\nThe bus driver reacts in helpless horror as he sees the buggy enter the\nintersection at high speed.\n\n<b>BUGGY\n</b>\nIt comes to a dead stop right in the middle of the street.  The bus\ncontinues missing the buggy by inches.\n\n<b>INTERSECTION\n</b>\nCars and trucks swerve and hit their brakes as Dana runs into the\nintersection and snatches up the baby.  She hugs it close, deeply\nrelieved, then looks at the buggy with the dawning awareness that the\nsupernatural has re-entered her life.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  UPPER WEST SIDE - NEW YORK CITY STREET - GHOSTBUSTERS LOGO - DAY\n</b>\nTHEME MUSIC kicks in strongly as we see the familiar \"No Ghosts\" symbol\nand PULL BACK to reveal that it's painted on the side of Ecto-1, the\nGhostbusters' emergency vehicle, which is speeding up Broadway on the\nUpper West Side.  RAY STANTZ is driving and WINSTON ZEDDEMORE is riding\nshotgun.\n\n<b>EXT.  WEST 77TH STREET - DAY  (MOMENTS LATER)\n</b>\nThe Ectomobile pulls up in front of a carefully-restored brownstone.\nStantz and Winston, wearing their official Ghostbuster uniforms, jump\nout of the old ambulance, shoulder their proton packs and enter the\nhouse.\n\n<b>INT.  BROWNSTONE - DAY  (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nA WOMAN greets them and leads them through the expensively-furnished\nhouse.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (all business)\n\t\t\tHow many of them are there, ma'am?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWOMAN\n</b>\t\t\tFourteen.  They're in the back.  I hope you can\n\t\t\thandle them.  It's been like a nightmare.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tHow big are they?\n\nShe holds her hand out indicating about four feet.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (resolute)\n\t\t\tWe'll do our best, ma'am.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWOMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThey're right out here.\n\nShe leads them to a set of French doors that open into another room.\nStantz and Winston pause to make final adjustments to their equipment.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tReady?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tI'm ready.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThen let's do it.\n\nHe pushes through the French doors and they step into the room.\n\n<b>INT.  BROWNSTONE - DAY  (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThey are immediately attacked by fourteen or fifteen screaming KIDS\nbetween the ages of seven and ten.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tKIDS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (disappointed)\n\t\t\tGhostbusters!!  Boooo!!\n\nTables are set with party favors, ice cream and birthday cake and the\nroom is strewn with discarded toys and games.  A couple of weary parents\nsink onto lawn chairs as Stantz and Winston take over the party.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (trying his best)\n\t\t\tHow you doin', kids?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLITTLE BOY\n</b>\t\t\t\t (nasty)\n\t\t\tI though we were having He-Man.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tHe-Man couldn't make it today.  That's why\n\t\t\twe're here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tBOY\n</b>\t\t\tMy dad says you're full of crap.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (stopped cold)\n\t\t\tWell, a lot of people have trouble believing\n\t\t\tin the paranormal.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tBOY\n</b>\t\t\tNo, he just says you're full of crap and that's\n\t\t\twhy you went out of business.\n\nHe kicks Stantz in the leg.  Stantz grabs him by the shirtfront.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (low and menacing)\n\t\t\tI'm watching you.\n\t\t\t\t (to Winston)\n\t\t\tSong.\n\nWinston switches on a tiny TAPE RECORDER which starts PLAYING the\nGhostbusters THEME SONG. Stantz and WInston start singing\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ AND WINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t'There's something wrong in the neighborhood.\n\t\t\tWho you gonna call?'\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tKIDS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (all together)\n\t\t\tHe-Man!!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. WEST 77TH STREET - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nStantz and Winston wearily load their equipment into the Ectomobile.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tThat's it, Ray.  I've had it.  No more parties.\n\t\t\tI'm tired of taking abuse from over-privileged\n\t\t\tnine-year-olds.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tCome on, Winston.  We can't quit now.  The\n\t\t\tholidays are coming up.  It's our best season.\n\nThey get in the car\n\n<b>INT.  ECTO-1 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nStantz tries to start the car, but the engine won't turn over.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tGive it up, Ray.  You're living in the past.\n\t\t\tGhostbusters doesn't exist anymore.  In a year\n\t\t\tthese kids won't even remember who we are.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (tries to start the car again)\n\t\t\tUngrateful little Yuppie larvae.  After all we\n\t\t\tdid for this city.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, what did we do, Ray?  The last real job\n\t\t\twe had we bubbled up a hundred foot marshmallow\n\t\t\tman and blew the top three floors off an uptown\n\t\t\thighrise.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, but what a ride.  You can't make a\n\t\t\thamburger without chopping up a cow.\n\nHe turns the key again, the ENGING TURNS OVER, then starts GRINDING and\nCLUNKING disastrously, chewing up vital parts and dropping twisted bits\nof metal onto the pavement.  Finally, with a BLAST of black sooty\nexhaust from the tailpipe, Ecto-1 shudders and dies.  Frustrated, Stantz\nbangs his head lightly on the steering wheel\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  WKRR-TV STUDIO RECEPTION AREA - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nA bank of monitors in the lobby show the program now running on WKRR,\nChannel 10 in New York. We PUSH IN ON one of the monitors as a title\ncard and logo come up accompanied by some EERIE SYNTHESIZER MUSIC, and\nwe return to the show in progress: \"World of the Psychic with Dr. Peter\nVenkman.\"  There is a video dissolve to a standard talk show set and\nsitting there is our host PETER VENKMAN, the renowned and somewhat\ninfamous ex-Ghostbuster.\n\n<b>VENKMAN\n</b>\nHe turns TO CAMERA and talks to his viewers in a suavely engaging tone,\nunderstated and intimate.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHi, welcome back to the 'World of the Psychic,'\n\t\t\tI'm Peter Venkman and I'm chatting with my guest,\n\t\t\tauthor, lecturer and of course, psychic, Milton\n\t\t\tAnglund.\n\t\t\t\t (to his guest)\n\t\t\tMilt, your new book is called The End of the\n\t\t\tWorld.  Isn't that kind of like writing about\n\t\t\tgum disease.  Yes, it could happen, but do you\n\t\t\tthink anybody wants to read a book about it?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMILTON\n</b>\t\t\tWell, I think it's important for people to know\n\t\t\tthat the world is in danger.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, so can you tell us when it's going to\n\t\t\thappen or do we have to buy the book?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMILTON\n</b>\t\t\tI predict that the world will end at the\n\t\t\tstroke of midnight on New Year's Eve.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThis year?  That's cutting it a little close,\n\t\t\tisn't it?  I mean, just from a sales point of\n\t\t\tview, the book just came out, right?  So you're\n\t\t\tnot even looking at the paperback release for\n\t\t\tmaybe a year.  And it's going to be at least\n\t\t\tanother year after that if the thing has\n\t\t\tmovie-of-the-week or mini-series potential.\n\t\t\tYou would have been better off predicting 1992\n\t\t\tor even '94 just to be safe.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMILTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (irritated)\n\t\t\tThis is not just some money-making scheme!  I\n\t\t\tdidn't just make up the date.  I have a strong\n\t\t\tpsychic belief that the world will end on New\n\t\t\tYear's Eve.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (placating)\n\t\t\tWell, for your sake, I hope you're right.  But\n\t\t\tI think my other guest may disagree with you.\n\t\t\tElaine, you had another date in mind?\n\nThe CAMERA REVEALS ELAINE, an attractive, aggressive New Jersey\nhousewife, sitting on the other side of Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tELAINE\n</b>\t\t\tAccording to my sources, the world will end\n\t\t\ton February 14, in the year 2016.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tValentine's Day.  That's got to be a bummer.\n\t\t\tWhere did you get that date, Elaine?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tELAINE\n</b>\t\t\tI received this information from an alien.  I\n\t\t\twas at the Paramus Holiday Inn, I was having\n\t\t\ta drink in the bar when he approached me and\n\t\t\tstarted talking.  Then he must have used some\n\t\t\tsort of ray or a mind control device because\n\t\t\the made me follow him to his room and that's\n\t\t\twhere he told me about the end of the world.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYour alien had a room in the Holiday Inn?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tELAINE\n</b>\t\t\tIt may have been a room on the spacecraft made\n\t\t\tup to look like a room in the Holiday Inn.  I\n\t\t\tcan't be sure, Peter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (humoring her)\n\t\t\tNo, you can't, and I think that's the whole\n\t\t\tproblem with aliens; you just can't trust them.\n\t\t\tYou may get some nice ones occasionally like\n\t\t\tStarman or E.T., but most of them turn out to\n\t\t\tbe some kind of lizard.  Anyway, we're just\n\t\t\tabout out of time.\n\t\t\t\t (does his wrap-up right TO\n\t\t\t\t the CAMERA)\n\t\t\tNext week on 'World of the Psychic,' hairless\n\t\t\tpets.\n\t\t\t\t (holds up a hairless cat)\n\t\t\tUntil then, this is Peter Venkman saying ...\n\t\t\t\t (puts a finger to his temple\n\t\t\t\t and sends out a though to his\n\t\t\t\t viewers)\n\t\t\t... Good night.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT. TV STUDIO - CORRIDOR - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nVenkman comes out of the studio squabbling with his producer, NORMAN, a\nwell-meaning young incompetent.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhere do you find these people?  I thought\n\t\t\twe were having the telekinetic guy who bends\n\t\t\tthe spoons?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tNORMAN\n</b>\t\t\tA lot of the better psychics won't come on the\n\t\t\tshow.  They think you're too skeptical.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSkeptical!  Norman, I'm a pushover.  I think\n\t\t\tprofessional wrestling is real.\n\nThere is a small commotion down the hall as two plainclothes cops come\nout of the next studio followed by a group of mayoral assistants.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Norman)\n\t\t\tWhat's all this?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tNORMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThey just interviewed the mayor on 'Cityline.'\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThe Mayor!  He's a friend of mine.\n\nVenkman starts down the hall as the MAYOR and his principal aide, JACK\nHARDEMEYER, come walking out of the studio.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (calling to the Mayor)\n\t\t\tLenny!\n\nThe Mayor sees Venkman, blanches and hurries off, pretending not to know\nhim.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (starts to follow him)\n\t\t\tLenny!  It's Pete Venkman!\n\nThe plainclothesmen cut Venkman off and Hardemeyer puts a heavy hand\nagainst Venkman's chest.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (snide)\n\t\t\tCan I help you?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (dangerous)\n\t\t\tYeah, you can get your hand off my chest.\n\nHardemeyer smiles and drops his hand.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tI'm Jack Hardemeyer.  I'm the mayor's assistant.\n\t\t\tWhat can I do for you?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm an old friend of the mayor's.  I just\n\t\t\twant to say hello to him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (scornful)\n\t\t\tI know who you are, Doctor Venkman.  Busting\n\t\t\tany ghosts lately?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNo, that's what I want to talk to the mayor\n\t\t\tabout.  We did a little job for the city a\n\t\t\twhile back and we ended up getting sued,\n\t\t\tscrewed and tattooed by deskworms like you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (bristling)\n\t\t\tLook, you stay away from the mayor.  Next fall,\n\t\t\tbarring a disaster, he's going to be elected\n\t\t\tgovernor of this state and the last thing we\n\t\t\tneed is for him to be associated with two-bit\n\t\t\tfrauds and publicity hounds like you and your\n\t\t\tfriends.  You read me?\n\nHardemeyer walks off with the two cops.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, I get it.  But I want you to tell Lenny\n\t\t\tthat, because of you, I'm not voting for him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. MANHATTAN MUSEUM OF ART - DAY\n</b>\nThe broad front steps of the museum are crowded with tourists and\nvisitors.  Dana arrives carrying a portfolio and artist's tackle box and\nenters the museum.\n\n<b>INT. MUSEUM - RESTORATION STUDIO - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nWe are FULL-FRAME ON a larger-than-life, full-figure portrait of VIGO\nTHE CARPATHIAN, a demented and sadistic 16th century despot with an\nincredibly powerful evil presence.  Then we PULL BACK to reveal the\nstudio, which is a large open space on the top floor of the museum, lit\nby large skylights in the ceiling.  Working on the Vigo painting is\nJANOSZ POHA, a youngish art historian and painter, the head of the\ndepartment, quirky, intense and somewhat creepy.  Janosz is staring\nlongingly across the room at Dana.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe is carefully cleaning a 19th Century landscape painting, still\npreoccupied by the extraordinary near-accident with the buggy.  Janosz\nwatches her for a moment, then comes up behind her and looks over her\nshoulder.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with an East European accent)\n\t\t\tStill working on the Turner?\n\nDana jumps, startled by the intrusion.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tOh, yes, I got in a little late this morning,\n\t\t\tJanosz.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou know, you are really doing very good work\n\t\t\there.  I think soon you may be ready to assist\n\t\t\tme in some of the more important restorations.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThank you, Janosz.  I've learned a lot here,\n\t\t\tbut now that my baby's a little older, I was\n\t\t\thoping to rejoin the orchestra.\n\n<b>VIGO PAINTING\n</b>\nAt the mention of Dana's baby, the figure of Vigo miraculously turns his\nhead and looks at Dana.\n\n<b>JANOSZ AND DANA\n</b>\nNeither of them notice the movement in the painting.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (disappointed)\n\t\t\tWe'll be very sorry to lose you.  Perhaps I\n\t\t\tcould take you to lunch today?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tActually, I'm not eating lunch today.  I have\n\t\t\tan appointment.\n\t\t\t\t (looks at her watch)\n\t\t\tIn fact, I'd better go.\n\nShe starts gathering up her things.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tEvery day I ask you, and every day you've got\n\t\t\tsomething else to do.  Do I have bad breath\n\t\t\tor something?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (trying to brush him off)\n\t\t\tI'm sorry.  Perhaps some other time.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, I'll take a raincheck on that.\n\nJanosz smiles at her as she exits, then goes back to his easel.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to himself)\n\t\t\tI think she likes me.\n\nHe switches on an English language TAPE and starts practicing the\nphrases as he resumes working.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. UNIVERSITY - DAY\n</b>\nDana Barrett crosses the quad and enters a modern building.  A sign\nidentifies it as \"The Institute for Advanced Theoretical Research.\"\n\n<b>INT. UNIVERSITY - DAY (A LITTLE LATER)\n</b>\nDana is explaining the buggy incident to EGON SPENGLER, the soberly\nintellectual techno-wizard and former Ghostbuster, as he conducts an\nexperiment assisted by a research team of graduate students, all of whom\nare Japanese, Chinese, or Korean.  The device he is testing is a black\nbox about the size of a Sony Watchman with both digital and graphic\ndisplays.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t... and then the buggy just suddenly stopped\n\t\t\tdead in the middle of the street\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\n\t\t\tDid anyone else see this happen?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHundreds of people.  Believe me, I didn't\n\t\t\timagine this.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI'm not saying you did.  In science we always\n\t\t\tlook for the simplest explanation.\n\nAn ASSISTANT interrupts.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tASSISTANT\n</b>\t\t\tWe're ready, Dr. Spengler\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Assistant)\n\t\t\tWe'll start with the negative calibration.\n\nHe picks up the device and prepares to test it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (curious)\n\t\t\tWhat are you working on, Egon?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI'm trying to determine whether human\n\t\t\temotional states have a measurable effect on\n\t\t\tthe psychomagnetheric energy field.  It's a\n\t\t\ttheory Ray and I were working on when we had\n\t\t\tto dissolve Ghostbusters.\n\nAn assistant draws a curtain revealing a large picture window, actually\na two-way mirror, that looks into a small waiting room.  Inside the\nwaiting room they can see but not hear a youngish couple having a heated\narguement.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tThey think they're here for marriage\n\t\t\tcounseling.  We've kept them waiting for two\n\t\t\thours and we've been gradually increasing the\n\t\t\ttemperature in the room.\n\t\t\t\t (checking a heat sensor)\n\t\t\tIt's up to 95 degrees at the moment.  Now my\n\t\t\tassistant is going to enter and ask them if\n\t\t\tthey'd mind waiting another half-hour.\n\nAs Spengler, Dana, and the research team watch, the assistant enters the\nwaiting room and tells the couple about the new delay.  They explode\nwith anger both at him and each other while Spengler monitors them\nthrough the glass.  After recording his readings, he returns to his\nAssistant.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWe'll do the happiness index next.\n\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tI'd like to bring Ray in on your case, if\n\t\t\tit's all right with you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, whatever you think -- but not Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tOh no.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (affectedly casual)\n\t\t\tDo you ever see him?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tOccasionally\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHow is he these days?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tVenkman?  I think he was borderline for a\n\t\t\twhile there.  Then he crossed the border.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tDoes he ever mention me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tNo.  Not that I can recall.\n\nThey move to another two-way mirror through which they can see a lovely\nlittle girl playing with a wonderful array of toys.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (slightly disappointed)\n\t\t\tWell, we didn't part on very good terms and\n\t\t\twe sort of lost track of each other when I\n\t\t\tgot married.\n\nThe Assistant interrupts again.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tASSISTANT\n</b>\t\t\tWe're ready for the affection test.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the assistant)\n\t\t\tGood.  Send in the puppy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (continuing)\n\t\t\tI thought of calling him after my marriage\n\t\t\tended, but --.  Anyway, I appreciate you're\n\t\t\tdoing this, Egon\n\nThey watch as another assistant enters the playroom with an adorable\nCocker Spaniel puppy and gives it to the little girl.  Spengler monitors\nher as she jumps for joy and hugs the little dog.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (handing him a card)\n\t\t\tThis is my address and telephone number.\n\t\t\tWill you call me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tCertainly.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tEgon, I'd rather you didn't mention any of\n\t\t\tthis to Peter if you don't mind.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI won't.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThank you.\n\nShe shakes his hand and exits.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to his assistant)\n\t\t\tNow let's see how she reacts when we take\n\t\t\taway the puppy\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. RAY'S OCCULT BOOK STORE - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nIt's a small basement shop located on a quaint commercial block in\nGreenwich Village.  The window is crowded with occult artifacts and old\nbooks full of arcane metaphysical lore.  The TELEPHONE RINGS.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (v.o., answering the phone)\n\t\t\tRay's Occult.\n\n<b>INT. RAY'S OCCULT BOOKS - CONTINUOUS\n</b>\nThe shelves are jammed floor to ceiling with books on the paranormal.\nRay sits on a barstool behind the counter wearing an old cardigan\nsweater over a T-shirt.  He has on a pair of reading glasses and chews\non a battered, reeking pipe.  As he talks on the phone he prepares a cup\nof herb tea for Spengler who is thumbing through an arcane text.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on the phone)\n\t\t\tYeah ... mmhmm ... What do you need? ... What\n\t\t\thave I got?  I've got alchemy, astrology,\n\t\t\tapparitions, Bundu Magic Men, demon\n\t\t\tintercession, U.F.O. abductions, psychic\n\t\t\tsurgery, stigmata, modern miracles, pixie\n\t\t\tsightings, golden geese, geists, ghosts, I've\n\t\t\tgot it all -- what are you looking for? ...\n\t\t\tDon't have any.  Try the stockyards.\n\nHe hangs up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWho was that?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tSome crank.  Looking for goat hooves.  Come\n\t\t\tup with anything?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (referring to the book)\n\t\t\tThis one's interesting.  Berlin, 1939, a\n\t\t\tflower cart took off by itself and rolled\n\t\t\tapproximately half a kilometer over level\n\t\t\tground.  Three hundred eyewitnesses.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou might want to check those Duke University\n\t\t\tmean averaging studies on controlled\n\t\t\tpsychokinesis.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (going to the stacks)\n\t\t\tGood idea.\n\nThe bones hanging over the door rattle as Venkman enters the shop.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOh, hello, perhaps you could help me.  I'm\n\t\t\tlooking for an aerosol love potion I could\n\t\t\tspray on a certain Penthouse Pet that would\n\t\t\tmake her unconditionally submit to an unusual\n\t\t\tpersonal request.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOh, hiya, Pete.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo, no goat hooves, huh?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (strung)\n\t\t\tI knew that voice sounded familiar.  What's\n\t\t\tup?  How's it going?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNowhere -- fast.  Why don't you lock up and\n\t\t\tbuy me a sub?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (slightly evasive)\n\t\t\tUh, I can't.  I'm kind of working on something.\n\nSpengler steps out of the stacks.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tEgon!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tHello, Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHow've you been?  How's teaching?  I bet\n\t\t\tthose science chicks really dig that big\n\t\t\tcranium of yours, huh?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI think they're more interested in my\n\t\t\tepididymis.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI don't even want to know where that is.\n\nVenkman steps behind the counter and takes a beer from Ray's mini-fridge.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOh, your book came in, Venkman.  Magical\n\t\t\tPaths to Fortune and Power.\n\nHe hands Venkman the book.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tGreat.\n\t\t\t\t (reading the contents)\n\t\t\tSo what are you guys working on?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOh, just checking something for an old friend.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWho?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (at a loss)\n\t\t\tWho?  Just -- someone we know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOh, Ray --\n\nHe grabs Stantz by both ears and pulls up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWho?  Who?  Who?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tAaah!  Nobody!  I can't tell you!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWho, Ray?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (giving in)\n\t\t\tDana!  Dana Barrett!\n\nVenkman lets go of his ears and smiles.  Spengler looks at Stantz and\nshakes his head.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT. DANA'S APARTMENT - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThe apartment is old and creatively furnished with a comfortable mix of\nmodern and traditional pieces.  Maria, a young Hispanic woman who does\nday care for Dana, is feeding the baby in the kitchen when the DOORBELL\n<b>RINGS.\n</b>\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\nDana enters from the bedroom and crosses to the front door.  She opens\nit and admits Ray and Egon.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (hugging Ray)\n\t\t\tHi, Ray.  It's good to see you.  Thanks for\n\t\t\tcoming.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo problem.  Always glad to help -- and hug.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Spengler)\n\t\t\tHi, Egon.\n\nShe shakes his hand and is about to close the door when Venkman appears\nin the doorway.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHi, Dana.\n\nDana is caught completely off guard by Venkman's surprise appearance.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI knew you'd come crawling back to me.\n\nShe regards him coolly, as always amused and amazed at his\npresumptuousness.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHello, Peter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tYou know, Dana, I'm very very hurt that you\n\t\t\tdidn't call me first.  I'm still into all\n\t\t\tthis stuff, you know.  Haven't you ever seen\n\t\t\tmy show?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI have.  That's why I didn't call you first.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI can see that you're still very bitter about\n\t\t\tus, but in the interest of science, I'm going\n\t\t\tto give it my best shot.  Let's go to work,\n\t\t\tboys.\n\nStantz and Spengler begin a comprehensive parapsychological work-up on\nthe baby and the immediate physical environment.\n\n<b>VENKMAN AND DANA\n</b>\nVenkman starts nosing around the apartment.  Dana follows him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo what happened to Mr. Right?  I hear he\n\t\t\tditched you and the kid and moved to Europe.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHe didn't \"ditch\" me.  We had some problems,\n\t\t\the got a good offer from an orchestra in\n\t\t\tEngland and he took it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHe ditched you.  You should've married me,\n\t\t\tyou know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tYou never asked me, and every time I brought\n\t\t\tit up you'd get drowsy and fall asleep.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tMen are very sensitive, you know.  We need to\n\t\t\tfeel loved and desired, too.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tWell, when you started introducing me as \"the\n\t\t\told ball and chain,\" that's when I left.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI may have a few personal problems but one thing\n\t\t\tI am is a total professional.\n\nHe leaves her and crosses to Spengler.\n\n<b>SPENGLER\n</b>\nHe's taking a complete set of body and head measurements of the baby\nwith a tape measure and calipers.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat are you going to do, Egon?  Knit him a\n\t\t\tsnowsuit?\n\nSpengler ignores the remark and hands Venkman a specimen jar.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI'd like to have a stool specimen\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, you would.  Is that for personal or\n\t\t\tprofessional reasons?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (picking up the baby)\n\t\t\tOkay, kid.  Up you go.\n\nHe starts clowning with the baby, holding him over his head and pressing\nhis nose into the baby's belly, pretending that the baby is attacking\nhim.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHelp!  Please somebody help me!  Get him off!\n\t\t\tQuickly!  He's gone completely berserk!\n\nDana is amused and somewhat disarmed by Venkman's rapport with the baby.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tWhat do you think?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThere's no doubt about it.  He's got his\n\t\t\tfather's looks.  The kid is ugly -- extremely\n\t\t\tugly.  And smelly.\n\t\t\t\t (resumes playing with the baby)\n\t\t\tYou stink!  It's just horrible.  You are the\n\t\t\tstinkiest baby I ever smelled.\n\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tWhat's his name?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHis name is Oscar.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOscar!  You poor kid!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (losing patience)\n\t\t\tPeter, this is serious.  I need to know if you\n\t\t\tthink there's anything unusual about him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tUnusual?\n\t\t\t\t (holds up the baby and\n\t\t\t\t scrutinizes him)\n\t\t\tI don't know.  I haven't had a lot of\n\t\t\texperience with babies.\n\nHe looks at the baby, pulling his feet up, trying to get the sleeper\noff.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (taking the specimen jar)\n\t\t\tI'll do it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'll supervise.\n\n<b>INT. DANA'S APARTMENT - NURSERY - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nVenkman enters and finds Stantz monitoring the room.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tWell, Holmes, what do you think?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt's an interesting one, Pete.  If anything\n\t\t\twas going on it's totally subdued now.\n\nSpengler enters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Spengler)\n\t\t\tWhat now, Brainiac?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI think we should see if we can find\n\t\t\tanything abnormal on the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tFinding something abnormal on the street\n\t\t\tshouldn't be too hard.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. EAST 77TH STREET - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nDana walks down the street with Venkman, retracing the path of the\nrunaway buggy.  Spengler and Stantz follow, monitoring PKE valences from\nthe pavement and the buildings.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Dana, nostalgic)\n\t\t\tBrings back a lot of sweet memories, doesn't\n\t\t\tit?\n\t\t\t\t (pointing out familiar\n\t\t\t\t neighborhood sights)\n\t\t\tThere's our old cash machine.  And the dry\n\t\t\tcleaners we used to go to.  And the old\n\t\t\tvideo store.\n\t\t\t\t (he wipes away an imaginary\n\t\t\t\t tear)\n\t\t\tWe really had some good times, didn't we?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tWe definitely had a moment or two.\n\nDana stops at the intersection and points to the middle of the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThat's where the buggy stopped.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, let's take a look.\n\nVenkman walks right out into the middle of the street, completely\noblivious to the CARS HONKING and whizzing past him and starts motioning\nlike a traffic cop, bringing traffic to a standstill.  Then he signals\nfor Dana, Stantz and Spengler to join him in the middle of the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reading the PKE meter)\n\t\t\tIs this the spot?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tA little to the left.  Right there!  That's\n\t\t\twhere it stopped.\n\nStantz reads the PKE meter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNothing.  Not a trace.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWhy don't we try the Giga-meter?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat's that?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tEgon and I have been working on a gauge to\n\t\t\tmeasure psychomagnetheric energy in GEVs -\n\t\t\tgiga electron volts.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tThat's a thousand million electron volts.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI knew that.\n\nSpengler switches on the Giga-meter, the device he was testing in the\nlab, and passes it over the spot on the street where the buggy stopped.\nThe indicator goes right into the red zone and the DEVICE starts CLICKING\n<b>WILDLY.\n</b>\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI think we hit the honeypot, boys.  There's\n\t\t\tsomething brewing under the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (worried, to Venkman)\n\t\t\tPeter, do you think maybe I have some genetic\n\t\t\tproblem or something that makes me vulnerable\n\t\t\tto these supernatural things.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou mean like the time you got possessed and\n\t\t\tturned into a monster terror dog?  No, not\n\t\t\ta chance.  Total coincidence.\n\t\t\t\t (to Stantz and Spengler)\n\t\t\tAm I right?\n\nStantz and Spengler look at him skeptically, not convinced by the\ncoincidence theory.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MANHATTAN MUSEUM OF ART - LATE AFTERNOON\n</b>\nThe museum has just closed for the day and the last of the visitors and\nemployees are leaving.\n\n<b>INT.  RESTORATION STUDIO - SAME TIME\n</b>\nJanosz is working late on the painting of Vigo.\n\n<b>VIGO PAINTING\n</b>\nUnnoticed by Janosz, the eyes of Vigo start to glow.\n\n<b>JANOSZ\n</b>\nHe touches his brush to the canvas and a powerful current of red,\ncrackling energy surges through the brush and courses through his body,\ndriving him to his knees.\n\n<b>PAINTING\n</b>\nThe figure of Vigo comes to life, turns toward Janosz and gestures\ndramatically at him.  Then he speaks to Janosz in a commanding voice.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tI, Vigo, the scourge of Carpathia, the\n\t\t\tsorrow of Moldavia, command you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (in agony)\n\t\t\tCommand me, lord.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tOn a mountain of skulls in a castle of pain,\n\t\t\tI sat on a throne of blood.  What was will\n\t\t\tbe, what is will be no more.  Now is the\n\t\t\tseason of evil.  Find me a child that I might\n\t\t\tlive again.\n\nBolts of red-hot energy shoot from the eyes of Vigo into Janosz's eyes.\nHe screams and falls to his knees.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. COFFEE SHOP - EAST 77TH STREET - NIGHT\n</b>\nVenkman and Stantz come out with small boxes containing coffee,\nsandwiches and Danish and start walking up the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI love this.  We're onto something really\n\t\t\tbig.  I can smell it, Ray.  We're going to\n\t\t\tmake some headlines with this one.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tHey, hey, hey, stresshound!  Are you nuts?\n\t\t\tIf anybody found out about this we'd be in\n\t\t\tserious trouble.  The judge couldn't have\n\t\t\tbeen clearer - no ghostbusting.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tRelax.  We're going to keep this whole thing\n\t\t\tnice and quiet, low key, no profile.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nSpengler, wearing a hardhat, is JACKHAMMERING a hole in the middle of the\nstreet.  Safety cones and reflectors have been set up and a small area is\nlit by strong work lights.\n\n<b>POLICE CAR\n</b>\nIt turns onto East 77th Street, cruises slowly up to the makeshift\nworksite and stops.  The noise of the JACKHAMMER is so loud, Spengler\ndoesn't notice the police car and the two COPS inside looking at them.\nFinally, he looks up, sees the police car and freezes.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRST COP\n</b>\t\t\tHow ya doing?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reeking with guilt)\n\t\t\tFine!  It's cutting fine now.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRST COP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (curious)\n\t\t\tWhy are you cutting?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (looking for one of the\n\t\t\t\t others)\n\t\t\tWhy are we cutting?  Uh - boss!\n\nVenkman and Stantz arrive just in time wearing Con Ed hardhats, doing a\ngood imitation of a Consolidated Edison repairman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRST COP\n</b>\t\t\tWhat are you doing here?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (belligerent)\n\t\t\tWhat the hell's it look like we're doing?\n\t\t\tWe're bustin out asses over here 'cause\n\t\t\tsome douchebag downtown ain't got nothin'\n\t\t\tbetter to do than make idiots like us work\n\t\t\tlate on a Friday night, right?\n\t\t\t\t (looks to Spengler for\n\t\t\t\t agreement)\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with a \"right on\" fist)\n\t\t\tYo.\n\nThe cops seem satisfied by the explanation.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRST COP\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, boys, take it easy.\n\nThey drive off.  Spengler breathes a great sigh of relief and starts\nrubbing his sore shoulders.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tYou were supposed to help me with this.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou need the exercise.\n\nStantz resumes JACKHAMMERING, while Venkman and Spengler clear the\nrubble from the hole.  Suddenly he hits metal.  They clear away\ngenerations of paving material revealing an ornate iron manhole cover.\nThe manhole cover bears a strange logo and the letters NYPRR.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (examing it)\n\t\t\tNYPRR.  What the hell -- ?  Help me lift\n\t\t\tthis.\n\nThey prey off the iron cover with crowbars, uncovering a very dark and\nvery deep abyss.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shining a flashlight into\n\t\t\t\t the hole)\n\t\t\tWow!  It's an old airshaft.  It just goes\n\t\t\tforever.\n\nSpengler leans in with the giga-meter which is reading even higher now.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tVery intense.  We need a deeper reading.\n\t\t\tSomebody has to go down there.\n\nVenkman and Spengler both look at Ray.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThanks, boys.\n\nThey snap Stantz into a harness and lower him into the hole on a strong\ncable attached to a winch.  Ray calls out orders to them as he descends\ndeeper and deeper.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\t\t (his voice echoing in the\n\t\t\t\t airshaft)\n\t\t\tKeep going -- more -- more --\n\n<b>INT.  HOLE - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nStantz rappels off the sides of the airshaft as he continues his descent\nin total darkness.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (using a radio now)\n\t\t\tLower -- lower --\n\t\t\t\t (to himself)\n\t\t\tGee, this really is deep.\n\nSuddenly, his feet kick thin air as he gets to the bottom of the airshaft\nand swings free in some kind of tunnel.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouts)\n\t\t\tHold it!  Steady!\n\nHe pulls a powerful flashlight from his utility belt and shines it into\nthe tunnel below.\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - STANTZ'S POV - NIGHT\n</b>\nHe is suspended near the top of a beautifully preserved chamber with\nrounded, polished tile walls ardorned with intricate, colorfully enameled\nArt Nouveau mosaics.  A finely inlaid sign identifies it as VAN HORNE\n<b>STATION.\n</b>\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe pans the walls with his flashlight, admiring the excellent tilework,\nand speaks quietly to Venkman and Spengler over his walkie-talkie.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reverently)\n\t\t\tThis is it, boys, the end of the line.  Van\n\t\t\tHorne Station.  The old New York Pneumatic.\n\t\t\tIt's still here.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - HOLE - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nVenkman has no idea what he's talking about.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (explaining)\n\t\t\tThe New York Pneumatic Railway.  It was an\n\t\t\texperimental subway system.  Fan-forced\n\t\t\tair-trains, built around 1870.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (over the walkie-talkie)\n\t\t\tThis is about as deep as you can go under\n\t\t\tManhattan without digging your own hole.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tWhat's the reading?\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nStantz shines his flashlight on the meter and whistles at the extremely\nhigh reading.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on the radio)\n\t\t\tOff the top of the scale.  This place is\n\t\t\treally hot.  Lower me to the floor.\n\nAs Venkman and Spengler feed him some more cable, he pans his flashlight\ndown the wall of the station, then onto the floor.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouts)\n\t\t\tHold it!!  Stop!!  Whoa!!\n\n<b>INT. VAN HORNE STATION - STANTZ'S POV - FLOOR - NIGHT\n</b>\nBelow him is a river of bubbling seething, glowing slime, a veritable\ntorrent of disgusting ooze.\n\nAs he stares into the foul effluent, we become aware of the strangely\namplified and magnified sounds of great ENGINES THROBBING and pulsing in\nthe bowels of the city, of WATER RUSHING through pipes, STEAM HISSING\nthrough ducts, the muffled RUMBLE of the SUBWAY and the ROAR of TRAFFIC,\nand mixed with it all, the unmistakable sounds of human conflict and pain\n-- VOICES SHOUTING in anger, SCREAMING in fear, GROANING in pain, a sad\nand eerie symphony.\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - STANTZ - NIGHT\n</b>\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (ranting on the radio)\n\t\t\tOh, my God!  It's a seething, bubbling,\n\t\t\tpsychic cess!  Interlocked tubes of plasm,\n\t\t\tcrackling with negative GEVs!  It's glowing\n\t\t\tand moving!  It's -- it's a river of slime!!\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe dangles from the end of the cable, holding his feet up as high as he\ncan.  He unhooks a device from his utility belt and pulls the trigger on\nit, shooting out a long telescoping fishing-pole with a scoop on the end.\nReaching down, he scoops up a sample of the slime and starts retracting\nthe pole.\n\n<b>SLIME\n</b>\nSuddenly, a grotesque arm with a long skeletal fingers reaches up out of\nthe slime and snatches at Stantz's dangling feet.  He jerks his legs up\nas several more arms poke up out of the slime and reach for him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on the radio)\n\t\t\tHaul me up, Venkman!  Now!\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - HOLE - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nVenkman and Spengler start hauling in the cable as a Con Ed Supervisor's\ncar drives up, and behind it, the same police car they saw earlier.  A\nburly SUPERVISOR gets out and crosses toward them, followed by the two\ncops.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSUPERVISOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (no nonsense)\n\t\t\tOkay, what's the story here?\n\nVenkman and Spengler stop pulling up the cable and Venkman tries the\nbelligerent worker ploy again, only this time he's wearing a Nynex\nhardhat.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat, I got time for this?  We got three\n\t\t\tthousand phones out in the Village and about\n\t\t\teight million miles of cable to check.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSUPERVISOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (not buying it)\n\t\t\tThe phone lines are over there.\n\t\t\t\t (points to the curb)\n\nVenkman pops Spengler on the head.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI told ya!\n\nStantz can be heard ranting over Venkman's walkie-talkie.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\t\t (filtered)\n\t\t\tHelp!  Help!  Pull me up!  It's alive!  It's\n\t\t\teating my boots.\n\nVenkman switches off the walkie-talkie.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRST COP\n</b>\t\t\tYou ain't with Con Ed or the phone company.\n\t\t\tWe checked.  Tell me another one.\n\nVenkman stares at the Cop for a long moment.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tGas leak?\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - SAME TIME\n</b>\nStantz is hanging there, looking down into the shaft at the slime which\nis now bubbling up the shaft after him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouting)\n\t\t\tGet me out of here!!\n\nDesperate now, he kicks wildly and knocks loose a section of an old,\nrusting conduit.\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - BOTTOM OF THE SHAFT\n</b>\nThe conduit falls on a heavy electrical transmission line, ripping\nthrough the cable with a SHOWER OF SPARKS.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - HOLE - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n</b>\nVenkman, Spengler, the cops and the supervisor all react to a bright\nFLASH deep down in the hole and a SHOUT from Stantz.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - STREET - NIGHT\n</b>\nOne by one, all the streetlights go out; then the lights on all the\nbuildings along East 77th street; then the whole neighborhood blacks\nout, and finally the entire city is plunged into darkness.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\tSorry.\n\n<b>INT. DANA BARRETT'S APARTMENT - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nShe walks around in the dark lighting candles and placing them all over\nthe living room.  Then she finds a transistor radio and turns it on for\ninformation about the blackout.  She listens to a special news report\nfor a moment, then has a compelling impulse to go check on the baby.\nShe crosses to the nursery carrying a candle and quietly opens the door\nand looks in.  Suddenly the DOORBELL RINGS, scaring her half to death.\nLeaving the chain on the door, she opens it a crack and sees Janosz\nstanding in the hall, eerily lit by a red emergency spot at the end of\nthe hallway.  He looks slightly dazed and even creepier.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (surprised)\n\t\t\tJanosz?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tHello, Dana.  I happened to be in the\n\t\t\tneighborhood and I thought I'd stop by to\n\t\t\tsee if everything's all right with you --\n\t\t\tyou know, with the blackout and everything?\n\t\t\tAre you okay?  Is the baby all right?\n\nHis affected concern is chilling.  She is frightened but conceals it\nfrom him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (mechanically and cautiously)\n\tWe're fine, Janosz.\n\nHe tires to look around her into the apartment.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tDo you need anything?  You want me to come\n\t\t\tin?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tNo, everything's fine.  Honestly.  Thanks\n\t\t\tanyway.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, just thought I'd check.  Good night,\n\t\t\tDana.  Sleep well.  Don't let the bedbugs\n\t\t\tbite you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tGood night, Janosz.\n\nShe closes the door behind him and double locks it, then stands there\nstaring into the candlelight, alone and afraid.\n\n<b>INT.  HALLWAY OF DANA'S BUILDING - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nJanosz stands there in semi-darkness, then his eyes light up like\nheadlights and he walks off down the hall.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - WITNESS STAND - NEXT DAY\n</b>\nThe JUDGE, a rather sour-looking jurist of the old school, calls the\ncourt to order.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tI want to make one thing very clear before\n\t\t\twe go any further.  The law does not recognize\n\t\t\tthe existence of ghosts, and I don't believe\n\t\t\tin them either, so I don't want to hear a\n\t\t\tlot of malarkey about goblins and spooks and\n\t\t\tdemons.  We're going to stick to the facts\n\t\t\tin this case and save the ghost stories for\n\t\t\tthe kiddies.  Understood?\n\n<b>DEFENSE TABLE\n</b>\nStantz leans over and whispers to Spengler.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tSeems like a pretty open-minded guy, huh?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tHis nickname is \"The Hammer.\"\n\nStantz and Spengler are seated with their attorney LOUIS TULLY, lawyer,\nCPA and former demonic possession victim.  Louis is desperately paging\nthrough a mountain of legal textbooks.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (nervous)\n\t\t\tI think you're making a big mistake here,\n\t\t\tfellas.  I do mostly tax law and some probate\n\t\t\tstuff occasionally.  I got my law degree at\n\t\t\tnight school.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThat's all right.  We got arrested at night.\n\n<b>SPECTATORS' GALLERY\n</b>\nVenkman is talking to Dana at the wooden rail in front of the gallery.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI wish I could stay.  I feel personally\n\t\t\tresponsible for you being here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou are personally responsible.  If I can\n\t\t\tget conjugal rights, will you visit me at\n\t\t\tSing Sing?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tPlease don't say that.  You won't go to prison.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDon't worry about me.  I'm like a cat.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tYou mean you cough up hairballs all over\n\t\t\tthe rug?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm El Gato.  I always land on my feet.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (sincerely)\n\t\t\tGood luck.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThanks.\n\nShe gives him a quick, unexpected kiss and exits.  Venkman savors it for\na moment then goes back to the defense table.\n\n<b>PROSECUTION TABLE\n</b>\nJack Hardemeyer, the mayor's principal aide, is goading the PROSECUTOR,\na very sober, humorless woman in her late thirties.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tHow are you doing, hon?  Just put these guys\n\t\t\taway fast and make sure they go away for a\n\t\t\tlong, long time.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tIt shouldn't be hard with this list of charges.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tGood.  Very good.  The mayor and future\n\t\t\tgovernor won't forget this.\n\nHe smiles conspiratorially and makes a point of passing the defense table\non his way out of the courtroom.\n\n<b>DEFENSE TABLE\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters look up as Hardemeyer approaches.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (gloating)\n\t\t\tNice going, Venkman.  Violating a judicial\n\t\t\trestraining order, willful destruction of\n\t\t\tpublic property, fraud, malicious mischief\n\t\t\t-- smooth move.  See you in a couple years\n\t\t\t-- at your first parole hearing.\n\nHerdemeyer exits.  Louis looks devastated.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tGee, the whole city's against us.  I think\n\t\t\tI'm going to be sick.\n\nSpengler hands him a waste basket as the Prosecutor calls her first\nwitness.\n\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - WITNESS STAND - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThe Con Ed Supervisor is testifying.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tMr. Fianella, please look at Exhibits A\n\t\t\tthrough F on the table over there.  Do you\n\t\t\trecognize that equipment?\n\n<b>EXHIBIT TABLE\n</b>\nLying on the table are the basic tools of the Ghostbusting trade: three\nproton packs and particle throwers, a couple of ghost traps, and various\nmeters and detection devices.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCON ED\n</b>\t\t\t\t (o.c.)\n\t\t\tThat's the stuff the cops found in their\n\t\t\ttruck.\n\n<b>WITNESS STAND\n</b>\nShe continues.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tDo you know what this equipment is used for?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCON ED\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shrugs)\n\t\t\tI don't know.  Catching ghosts, I guess.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Judge)\n\t\t\tMay I remind the court that the defendants\n\t\t\tare under a judicial restraining order that\n\t\t\tspecifically forbids them from performing\n\t\t\tservices as paranormal investigators and\n\t\t\teliminators.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tSo noted.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tNow, Mr. Fianella, can you identify the\n\t\t\tsubstance in the jar on the table marked\n\t\t\tExhibit F?\n\n<b>PROSECUTOR\n</b>\nShe goes to the exhibit table and picks up a specimen jar containing the\nslime sample Stantz removed from the tunnel.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCON ED\n</b>\t\t\tI been working underground for Con Ed for\n\t\t\t27 years and I never saw anything like that\n\t\t\tin my life.  We checked out that tunnel the\n\t\t\tnext day and we didn't find nothing.  If it\n\t\t\twas down there, they must have put it there.\n\n<b>DEFENSE TABLE\n</b>\nVenkman and Spengler look at Stantz.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (defensively)\n\t\t\tHey, I didn't imagine it.  There must have\n\t\t\tbeen ten thousand gallons of it down there.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tIt may be ebbing and flowing from some tidal\n\t\t\tsource.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (nervously)\n\t\t\tShould I say that?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI doubt that they'd believe us.\n\nLouis moans and goes back to his notes.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t WIPE TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - WITNESS STAND - LATER\n</b>\nVenkman himself is on the stand and Louis is questioning him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tSo like you were just trying to help out\n\t\t\tyour old friend because she was scared and\n\t\t\tyou didn't really mean to do anything bad\n\t\t\tand you really love the city and won't ever\n\t\t\tdo anything like this again, right?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tObjection, your Honor.  He's leading the\n\t\t\twitness.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tThe witness is leading him.  Sustained.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, let me rephrase that question.\n\t\t\t\t (to venkman)\n\t\t\tDidn't you once coach a basketball team for\n\t\t\tunderprivileged children?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYes, I did.  We were city champs.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tObjection.  Irrelevant and immaterial.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tSustained.  Mr. Tully, do you have anything\n\t\t\tto ask this witness that may have some\n\t\t\tbearing on this case?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Venkman)\n\t\t\tDo I?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I think you've helped them enough already.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Judge)\n\t\t\tNo, I guess not.\n\t\t\t\t (to the Prosecutor)\n\t\t\tYour witness.\n\nThe Prosecutor rises and approaches the witness stand with relish.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tSo, Dr. Venkman, please explain to the court\n\t\t\twhy it is you and your co-defendants took it\n\t\t\tupon yourselves to dig a big hole in the\n\t\t\tmiddle of the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSeventy-seventh and First Avenue has so many\n\t\t\tholes already we didn't think anyone would\n\t\t\tnotice.\n\nThe gallery laughs and the Judge gavels for order.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tKeep that up, mister, and I'll find you in\n\t\t\tcontempt.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSorry, your Honor, but when somebody sets\n\t\t\tme up like that I can't resist.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tI'll ask you again, Dr. Venkman.  Why were\n\t\t\tyou digging the hole?  And please remember\n\t\t\tthat you're under oath.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI had my fingers crossed when they swore me\n\t\t\tin, but I'm going to tell you the truth.\n\t\t\tThere are things in this world that go way\n\t\t\tbeyond human understanding, things that\n\t\t\tcan't be explained and that most people don't\n\t\t\twant to know about anyway.  That's where we\n\t\t\tcome in.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tSo what are you saying?  That the world of\n\t\t\tthe supernatural is your special province?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I guess I'm just saying that shit happens\n\t\t\tand somebody has to deal with it.\n\nThe spectators in the gallery cheer and the judge gavels for order.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t WIPE TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - LATER\n</b>\nThe trial is nearing its end.  The Judge calls on Louis to make his\nsummation.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tDoes the counsel for the defense wish to\n\t\t\tmake any final arguements?\n\nLouis rises.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tYour honor, may I approach the bench?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (impatient)\n\t\t\tYes.\n\nLouis crosses to the judge's bench.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the judge)\n\t\t\tCan I have some of your water?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tGet on with it, counselor!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (scared)\n\t\t\tYour honor, ladies and gentlemen of the --\n\t\t\t\t (he remembers there's no\n\t\t\t\t jury)\n\t\t\taudience.  I don't think it's fair to call\n\t\t\tmy clients frauds.  Okay, the blackout was\n\t\t\ta big problem for everybody.  I was stuck in\n\t\t\tan elevator for about three hours and I had\n\t\t\tto go to the bathroom the whole time, but I\n\t\t\tdon't blame them because once I turned into\n\t\t\ta dog and they helped me.  Thank you.\n\nHe goes back to the defense table and sits down.  Stantz and Spengler\nhang their heads.  Venkman pats Louis on the back.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Louis)\n\t\t\tWay to go.  Concise and to the point.\n\n<b>JUDGE\n</b>\nHe stares at Louis, astonished at his summation.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tThat's it?  That's all you have to say?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tDid I forget something?\n\nHe searches through a disorderly pile of notes.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tThat was unquestionably the worst\n\t\t\tpresentation of a case I've ever heard in a\n\t\t\tcourt of law!  I ought to cite you for\n\t\t\tcontempt and have you disbarred.  As for\n\t\t\tyour clients, Peter Venkman, Raymond Stantz\n\t\t\tand Egon Spengler, on the charges of\n\t\t\tconspiracy, fraud and the willful destruction\n\t\t\tof public property, I find you guilty on all\n\t\t\tcounts.  I order you to pay fines in the\n\t\t\tamount of $25,000 each and I sentence you to\n\t\t\teighteen months in the city correctional\n\t\t\tfacility at Ryker's Island.\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe sees the activity in the jar\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tUh-oh, she's twitchin'.\n\n<b>THE BENCH\n</b>\nThe Judge continues\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tAnd on a more personal note, let me go on\n\t\t\trecord as saying that there is no place in\n\t\t\tdecent society for fakes, charlatans and\n\t\t\ttricksters like you who prey on the\n\t\t\tgullibility of innocent people.  You're\n\t\t\tbeneath the contempt of this court.  And\n\t\t\tbelieve me, if my hands were not tied by the\n\t\t\tunalterable fetters of the law, a law which\n\t\t\thas become in my view far too permissive and\n\t\t\tinadequate in it's standards of punishment,\n\t\t\tI would invoke the tradition of our\n\t\t\tillustrious forebearers, reach back to a\n\t\t\tsterner, purer justice and have you burned\n\t\t\tat the stake!\n\nHe hammers the bench with his gravel as the gallery erupts noisily.  Then\nhe feels a LOW RUMBLING TREMOR in the courtroom.\n\n<b>SPECIMEN JAR\n</b>\nThe slime starts to pulse and swell, pushing up the lid on the jar.\n\n<b>DEFENSE TABLE\n</b>\nStantz anticipates big trouble.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tUnder the table, boys!\n\nThe Ghostbusters duck under the defense table.\n\n<b>LOUIS\n</b>\nHe stands up and looks around fearfully.\n\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - GHOST BATTLE - DAY\n</b>\nEverybody is silent now as the rumbling increases.  All eyes turn to the\nexhibit table.  Then suddenly all Hell breaks loose as TWO FULL-TORSO\nAPPARITIONS explode out of the specimen jar.\n\n<b>JUDGE\n</b>\nHe looks up in terror at the two huge apparitions looming above him and\nrecognizes them immediately.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (in horror)\n\t\t\tOh, my God!  The Scoleri Brothers!\n\n<b>SCOLERI BROTHERS\n</b>\nBig in life, even bigger in death, the ghostly Scoleri brothers seem ten\nfeet tall.  They are strapped into electric chairs and on their heads are\nmetal electrocution caps with live, sparking electrical wires still\nattached.  Twenty-five hundred volts of electricity shoot through their\nbodies as they start to break free of the leather restraints, trying to\nget at the Judge.\n\n<b>JUDGE\n</b>\nHolding his gavel like a pitiful weapon, he crawls over to the defense\ntable where Venkman, Stantz and Spengler are now crouched, assessing the\nspectral intruders.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (terrified)\n\t\t\tYou've got to do something!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWho are they?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tThey're the Scoleri Brothers.  I tried them\n\t\t\tfor murder.  They were electrocuted up at\n\t\t\tOssining in '48.  Now they want to kill me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tMaybe they just want to appeal.\n\n<b>SCOLERI BROTHERS\n</b>\nThey break loose from the electric chairs, then turn toward the defense\ntable and BLAST it with HIGH-VOLTAGE FINGER-LIGHTNING.\n\n<b>PROSECUTOR\n</b>\nShe sprints for the door, pursued by one of the Scoleri brothers.\n\n<b>GHOSTBUSTERS\n</b>\nThey jump to safety behind the rail of the jury box, pulling the Judge\nwith them.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThese boys aren't playing around.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (desperately)\n\t\t\tYou've got to stop them.  Please!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (thinking like a lawyer)\n\t\t\tViolating a judicial restraining order could\n\t\t\texpose my clients to serious criminal\n\t\t\tpenalties.  As their attorney I'd have to\n\t\t\tadvise them against it.\n\n<b>SCOLERI BROTHERS\n</b>\nThey start punching through the jury box.\n\n<b>JUDGE\n</b>\nHe is just about hysterical with fear.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tAll right!  All right!  I'm recinding the\n\t\t\torder.  Case dismissed!!\n\t\t\t\t (he pounds his gavel on\n\t\t\t\t the floor)\n\t\t\tNow do something!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tLet's go to work, boys.\n\nWith that, the Ghostbusters leap over the rail of the jury box and dash\nacross the courtroom to the exhibit table where their proton packs were\nbeing displayed as evidence.  They strap them on hastily as the Brothers\ncontinue tearing up the seats looing for the Judge.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (slinging the pack onto\n\t\t\t\t his back)\n\t\t\tGeez, I forgot how heavy these things are.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (grabbing other gear)\n\t\t\tOkay, let's heat 'em up!\n\nThey flip the power switches on their packs and draw their particle\nthrowers.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tAll right, throwers.  Set for full neutronas\n\t\t\ton stream.\n\nThey switch on their throwers and turn to face the raging phantasms.\n\n<b>SCOLERI BROTHERS\n</b>\nThey are just about to wipe out the Judge when a loud shout distracts\nthem.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHey!  Why don't you pick on someone your own\n\t\t\tsize?\n\nThe towering ghosts turn in a fury and raise their arms, ready to shoot\nlightning at their new adversaries.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the others)\n\t\t\tOn my signal, boys.  Open 'em up -- Now!\n\nThey all pull their triggers and the wands EXPLODE with incredible\npowerful STREAMS OF ENERGY, doing even more damage to the courtroom.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSpengs, take the door.  Ray, let's try and\n\t\t\twork them down and into the corner.\n\nWorking as a team, they gradually confine the Scoleri Brothers with the\nstreams, forcing them closer and closer to the traps Ray has set out on\nthe floor.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWatch it!  I'm coming under you, Pete.\n\nThey circle around the two ghosts, prodding them with the streams while\nducking the lightning bolts shooting from their fingers.  Finally, Ray\nsees his chance and pops open the traps which emit inverted pyramids of\nlight energy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tSteady -- watch your streams -- easy now --\n\t\t\tVenky, bring him left -- Spengy, pull him\n\t\t\tdown -- trapping -- trapping -- now!\n\nHe stomps on a control pedal and the Scoleri Brothers are drawn into the\ntraps which snap shut.\n\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - TRAPS - DAY\n</b>\nLEDs on the outer casing start flashing, indicating the presence of a\nghost inside each trap.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (checking the trap)\n\t\t\tOccupado.\n\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - JUDGE - DAY (AFTER GHOST BATTLE)\n</b>\nHe sticks his head up slowly from behind the debris of his bench and\nlooks around in total amazement.\n\n<b>LOUIS\n</b>\nHe crawls out from under a chair.  Reporters and spectators get back on\ntheir feet and start buzzing about the incredible manifestation.\n\n<b>PROSECUTOR\n</b>\nShe's lying on the floor, attended to by the Bailiff and the Court Clerk.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Prosecutor)\n\t\t\tBrilliant summation.\n\n<b>GHOSTBUSTERS\n</b>\nThey break into big smiles as photographers start snapping pictures of\nthem standing in the wrecked courtroom.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tCase closed, boys.  We're back in business.\n\nThe spectators cheer and applaud.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  FIREHOUSE - DAY\n</b>\nThe old, dilapidated Ghostbusters logo comes crashing to the ground,\ndropped by a pair of workmen on a ladder, and the new logo is hoisted\ninto place over the main entrance.  It's just like the original \"No\nGhosts\" logo, but in the new one the ghost in the red circle is holding\nup two fingers.  Venkman enters the firehouse.\n\n<b>INT.  BEDROOM SET (TV COMMERCIAL - FULL SCREEN VIDEO) - NIGHT\n</b>\nA man and his wife are lying in bed reading.  The man is played by Louis\nTully and JANINE MELNITZ, the Ghostbusters' once and future receptionist,\nis playing his wife.  They are both terrible actors.  Suddenly, a ghost,\nactually a very bad puppet on a wire, floats through the bedroom.  Janine\nsees it and screams.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tWhat is it, honey?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tIt's that darn ghost again!  I don't know\n\t\t\twhat to do anymore.  He just won't leave us\n\t\t\talone.  I guess we'll just have to move.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tDon't worry.  We're not moving.  He is.\n\nHe picks up the phone.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tWho are you going to call?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with a wink)\n\t\t\tGhostbusters.\n\nAs he starts to dial, the CAMERA PULLS BACK to reveal the Ghostbusters\nstanding in the bedroom.  Their acting isn't much better than Louis and\nJanine's.\n\n<b>GHOSTBUSTERS\n</b>\nStantz speaks directly TO the CAMERA.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI'm Ray --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm Peter --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI'm Egon --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tAnd we're the ...\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tALL\n</b>\t\t\t\t (together)\n\t\t\tGhostbusters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThat's right -- Ghostbusters.  We're back\n\t\t\tand we're better than ever with twice the\n\t\t\tknow-how and twice the particle-power to\n\t\t\tdeal with all your supernatural elimination\n\t\t\tneeds.\n\nDuring his speech, Winston can be seen in the b.g. pretending to trap the\nfake ghost.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tCareful, Winston.  He's a mean one.\n<b>\t\t\t\t (TO CAMERA)\n</b>\t\t\tAnd to celebrate our grand reopening, we're\n\t\t\tgiving you twice the value with our special\n\t\t\thalf-price 'Welcome Back' service plan.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHold on, Ray!  Half-price!  Have you gone\n\t\t\tcrazy?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI guess so, Pete, because that's not all.\n\t\t\tTell them what else we've got, Egon.\n\nSpengler actually mouths everyone else's dialogue along with them,\nwaiting for his cue.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tYou mean the Ghostbusters hot beverage\n\t\t\tthermal mugs and free balloons for the kids?\n\nHe holds up a mug and a limp, uninflated balloon.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou bet.\n\nAs Stantz wraps it up, SUPERS APPEAR at the bottom of the SCREEN: FULLY\n<b>BONDED - FULLY LICENSED - SE HABLA ESPANOL.\n</b>\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b><b>\t\t\t\t (TO CAMERA)\n</b>\t\t\tSo don't wait another minute.  Make your\n\t\t\tsupernatural problem our supernatural problem.\n\t\t\tCall now, because we're still --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tALL\n</b>\t\t\t\t (in unison, mechanically)\n\t\t\t-- Ready to believe you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  JACK HARDEMEYER'S OFFICE - DAY\n</b>\nHardemeyer is watching the Ghostbusters commercial on a TV in his office.\nHe bangs his fist on his desk and angrily switches OFF the TV.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  FIREHOUSE - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThe garage door opens and the new improved ECTOMOBILE comes ROARING out\nonto the street, its ghostly SIREN MOANING and WAILING.  Louis comes\nrunning out after it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - DAY\n</b>\nLouis comes back into the garage bay and stops as he smells a foul odor.\nHe sniffs around, following the smell.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh, geez, smells like somebody took a really\n\t\t\tbig --\n\nHe freezes.\n\n<b>INT. OFFICE AREA - LOUIS'S POV\n</b>\nSlimer, a spud-like green ghost, is hovering over Louis's desk, scarfing\ndown Louis's bag lunch.  Slimer looks up and sees Louis.\n\n<b>SLIMER AND LOUIS\n</b>\nThey both scream and run off in opposite directions.\n\n<b>SLIMER\n</b>\nHe passes right through a wall and disappears.\n\n<b>LOUIS\n</b>\nHe runs right into a wall, recovers and exits in a hurry.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (screaming)\n\t\t\tHelp!  There's a thing!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  CENTRAL PARK RESERVOIR - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nRunners of both sexes and all ages are huffing and puffing as they jog\nalong the track that circles the reservoir.  One of the runners looks\nbehind him at the sound of APPROACHING FOOTFALLS and screams.\n\n<b>GHOSTLY JOGGER\n</b>\nA ghost jogger is loping along at a pretty fair pace.  Other runners\nstumble and run screaming into the park as he passes them.  Seemingly\noblivious to the effect he's having, the ghost jogger puts two fingers to\nhis skeletal neck and checks his watch as if taking his pulse.\n\n<b>EXT. CLEARING IN PARK - DAY (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nVenkman is sitting on a park bench near the jogging track reading the\nnewspaper, eating a donut and drinking coffee from a Styrofoam cup.\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe's sitting on a bench opposite Venkman's, casually watching the jogging\ntrack.\n\n<b>GHOST JOGGER\n</b>\nHe approaches the benches where the Ghostbusters are waiting.  As the\nghost jogger passes the benches, Stantz and Venkman simultaneously hit\nconcealed control buttons.  A ghost trap buried in the track throws up a\nglowing inverted pyramid and catches the ghost jogger in mid-stride.\nStantz and Venkman close the trap and capture the ghost jogger.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (checking his watch)\n\t\t\tYou know he ran that last lap in under six\n\t\t\tminutes?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIf he wasn't dead he'd be an Olympic\n\t\t\tprospect.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  JEWELRY STORE - DAY\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters come out carrying smoking traps, wearing cheap\ndime-store Santa Claus hats.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the client)\n\t\t\tMerry Christmas!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  FIFTH AVENUE - ORREFORS GLASS STORE - DAY\n</b>\nThe Ectomobile is parked at the curb and a curious crowd looks on as the\nGhostbusters enter the store.\n\n<b>INT.  ORREFORS GLASS STORE - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n</b>\nAll the precious crystal is floating in the air, several feet above the\nglass shelves and display tables.  Stantz and Venkman are talking to the\nmanager while Winston and Spengler set up an array of electronic devices\npositioned in each corner of the store.\n\nOn a signal from Stantz, Spengler and Winston switch on the devices which\nthrow laser-type beams around the perimeter of the store.  The manager\nwatches in horror as all the GLASSWARE suddenly drops out of the air,\nSMASHES through the GLASS SHELVES and SHATTERS on the display tables.\nThere is a long pregnant pause.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the manager)\n\t\t\tSo will that be cash or a check?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - RESTORATION STUDIO - DAY (LATE AFTERNOON)\n</b>\nEveryone else has gone home.  Dana is cleaning her brushes and putting\nher supplies away.\n\n<b>VIGO PAINTING - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n</b>\nVigo turns his head and watches Dana as she walks past the painting.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe stops, vaguely aware of the movement, and looks up curiously at the\npainting.  As she starts to walk on, Vigo looks at her again, but Dana\nturns suddenly and catches the movement.  Frightened now, she hastily\nleaves the studio.\n\n<b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - DAY\n</b>\nLouis is lurking behind a pillar, peeking out at the office area.  We PAN\nDOWN TO the floor and see a foot pedal, then PAN ALONG the cord TO a\nghost trap sitting on Louis's desk.  Hanging from strings over the desk\nare several pieces of Kentucky fried chicken.\n\n<b>WALL\n</b>\nSlimer partially emerges and furtively sniffs the air, then spots the\nchicken bait.  He licks his lips, materializes completely and flies to\nthe chicken.\n\n<b>LOUIS\n</b>\nHis eyes light up and he stomps the foot pedal.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouts)\n\t\t\tGotcha!\n\n<b>DESK\n</b>\nThe trap pops open and shoots out a powerful cone of energy.  Slimer\ndodges it and escapes as a big section of the ceiling comes crashing down\non Louis's desk.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (seeing the damage)\n\t\t\tUh-oh.\n\nHe slinks off, defeated.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MANHATTAN MUSEUM OF ART - SECURITY DESK - DAY\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters commercial is playing on a portable TV on the security\ndesk.  Rudy, the Security Guard, is reading a National Enquirer with a\ngiant front-page headline: GHOSTBUSTERS SAVE JUDGE.  Venkman enters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm looking for Dana Barrett.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSECURITY GUARD\n</b>\t\t\tRoom 304 -- Restorations.\n\t\t\t\t (recognizing him)\n\t\t\tHey!  Dr. Venkman -- 'World of the Psychic.'\n\t\t\tI'm a big, big fan.  That used to be one of\n\t\t\tmy two favorite shows.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (flattered)\n\t\t\tThanks.  What's the other one?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSECURITY GUARD\n</b>\t\t\t'Bass Masters.'  It's a fishing show.  Ever\n\t\t\tsee it?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, really great.  Take it easy.\n\nHe exits.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - RESTORATION STUDIO - DAY (MOMENTS LATER)\n</b>\nDana is working on a valuable Flemish still-life by Ver Meer.  Janosz is\nat the other end of the room, still working on the painting of Vigo.\nVenkman enters and sneaks up behind Dana.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (looking at the Ver Meer)\n\t\t\tSo this is what you do, huh?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (glad to see him)\n\t\t\tOh, hello, Peter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou're really good, you know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI didn't paint it.  I'm just cleaning it.\n\t\t\tIt's an original Ver Meer.  It's worth about\n\t\t\tten million dollars.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nHe turns his head and watches Venkman and Dana.\n\n<b>VENKMAN\n</b>\nUnaware that he's being watched, Venkman squints at the still life,\nholding up his thumb like he's seen artists do.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou know you can go to Art World and get\n\t\t\tthese huge sofa-size paintings for about\n\t\t\tforty-five bucks.\n\nHe starts looking around at the other artwork in the studio.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI'm sure you didn't come here just to talk\n\t\t\tabout art.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAs a matter of fact, I stopped by to tell\n\t\t\tyou that I haven't forgotten your problem\n\t\t\tand that we're still on the case.\n\nThey are interrupted by the sudden appearance of Janosz.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (smiling at Venkman)\n\t\t\tDana, aren't you going to introduce me to\n\t\t\tyour friend?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tOh, I'm sorry.  This is Peter Venkman.\n\t\t\tPeter, Janosz Poha.\n\nVenkman warily shakes his hand, trying to size him up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (avoiding his gaze)\n\t\t\tPleasure to meet you.  I've seen you on\n\t\t\ttelevision.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHow are you?\n\t\t\t\t (looking over at the Vigo\n\t\t\t\t painting)\n\t\t\tWhat's that you're working on, Johnny?\n\nJanosz winces at the nickname but lets it go.  Venkman and Dana cross to\nthe Vigo painting.  Janosz steps protectively in front of it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt's a painting I'm restoring for the new\n\t\t\tByzantine exhibition.  It's a self-portrait\n\t\t\tof Prince Vigo, the Carpathian.  He ruled\n\t\t\tmost of Carpathia and Moldavia in the 17th\n\t\t\tCentury.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (staring at the painting)\n\t\t\tToo bad for the Moldavians.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (defensive)\n\n\t\t\tHe was a very powerful magician.  A genius\n\t\t\tin many ways and quite a skilled painter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHe was also a lunatic and a genocidal madman.\n\t\t\tI hate this painting.  I've felt very\n\t\t\tuncomfortable since they brought it up from\n\t\t\tstorage.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, it's not the kind of thing you'd want\n\t\t\tto hang in the rec room.  You know what it\n\t\t\tneeds?\n\t\t\t\t (picking up a brush)\n\t\t\tA fluffy little white kitten in the corner.\n\nVenkman reaches toward the painting, but Janosz grabs his hand.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with forced good will)\n\t\t\tWe don't go around altering valuable\n\t\t\tpaintings, Dr. Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWell, I'd make an exception in this case if\n\t\t\tI were you.\n\nDana looks disapprovingly at Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Janosz)\n\t\t\tI'll let you get back to it.  Nice meeting\n\t\t\tyou.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tMy pleasure.\n\nVenkman and Dana cross back to her workspace.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (confidentially)\n\t\t\tI may be wrong, but I think you've got a\n\t\t\tlittle crush on this guy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tGood-bye, Peter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (dragging his feet)\n\t\t\tI'd like to stay, but I really don't have\n\t\t\ttime to hang around here.  I'll call you.\n\t\t\t\t (calls out to Janosz)\n\t\t\tLater, Johnny!\n\nHe exits.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nVigo turns his head and follows Dana as she returns to her workbench.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe stops, vaguely aware of the movement, and looks up curiously at the\npainting.  As she starts to walk on, Vigo looks at her again, but Dana\nturns suddenly and catches the movement.  Frightened now, she hastily\nleaves the studio.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - LIVING QUARTERS - CONTINUOUS ACTION - DAY\n</b>\nVenkman and Winston enter and find Stantz and Spengler at work in the lab\narea.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOh good, you're here.  Spengler and I have\n\t\t\tsomething really amazing to show you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Spengler)\n\t\t\tIt's not that thing you do with your\n\t\t\tnostrils, is it?\n\nStantz goes to the refrigerator, opens the freezer, rummages around among\nthe TV dinners and frozen pizza and pulls out a slime specimen in a\nTupperware container.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Venkman)\n\t\t\tWe've been studying the stuff that we took\n\t\t\tfrom the subway tunnel.\n\nHe pops the specimen jar in the microwave and lets it thaw for a minute.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAnd now you're going to eat it?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I'm just restoring it to its normal state.\n\nHe takes the specimen out of the microwave and pours some of it into a\nlarge Petri dish.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNow watch this.\n\nHe leans over the specimen and starts shouting at it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (simulating anger)\n\t\t\tYou worthless piece of slime!!\n\t\t\t\t (as the slime starts to\n\t\t\t\t twitch and glow)\n\t\t\tYou ignorant disgusting blob!!\n\n<b>SPECIMEN\n</b>\nIt bubbles and swells, changing color with each insult.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou foul, obnoxious muck!!\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe continues venting his rage on the slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI've seen some real crud in my time, but\n\t\t\tyou're a chemical disgrace!!\n\nThe specimen doubles its size and starts spilling over the rim of the\nPetri dish.\n\n<b>STANTZ AND SPENGLER\n</b>\nThey turn to Venkman for his reaction.  He's dumbfounded.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThis is what you do with your spare time?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (very excited)\n\t\t\tThis is an incredible breakthrough, Venkman.\n\t\t\tA psychoreactive substance!  Whatever this\n\t\t\tis, it clearly responds to human emotional\n\t\t\tstates.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t'Mood slime.'  We ought to bottle this stuff\n\t\t\tand sell it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWe've found it at every event site we've\n\t\t\tbeen to lately.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (poking at the slime)\n\t\t\tYou mean this stuff actually feeds on 'bad\n\t\t\tvibes'?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tLike a goat on garbage.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWe're running tests to see if we can get an\n\t\t\tequally strong positive reaction.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat kind of tests?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (a little embarrassed)\n\t\t\tWell, we sing to it, we talk to it, we say\n\t\t\tsupportive, nurturing things --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou're not sleeping with this stuff, are you?\n\nSpengler reacts as if he might be.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt really responds to music.\n\t\t\t\t (to Spengler)\n\t\t\tLet's calm it down.\n\nSpengler picks up a guitar and he and Stantz start singing \"Cumbaya\" to\nthe slime specimen.\n\n<b>SPECIMEN\n</b>\nIt stops bubbling and starts to shrink.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tDoes it have any favorites?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt likes all the sappy stuff: 'Cumbaya,'\n\t\t\t'Everything is Beautiful,' 'It's a Small\n\t\t\tWorld' -- but it loves Jackie Wilson.\n\nVenkman and Winston watch intently as Spengler spoons some of the\npsych-reactive slime onto an old toaster.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWatch this.\n\nStantz turns on a CASSETTE PLAYER and Jackie Wilson's \"HIGHER AND HIGHER\"\nBLASTS from the speakers.\n\n<b>TOASTER\n</b>\nIt shakes, spins and actually starts moving in time with the MUSIC.\n\n<b>VENKMAN\n</b>\nHe stares in disbelief at the dancing toaster as it shoots two pieces of\ntoast into the air and catches them without missing a beat.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI don't care what you say.  This could be a\n\t\t\tmajor Christmas gift item.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tRight, and the first time someone gets mad,\n\t\t\ttheir toaster will eat their hand.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo we'll put a warning on the label.\n\nStantz turns OFF the MUSIC and the toaster stops moving.  Venkman looks\nat the toaster and sticks his fingers in the slot.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the toaster)\n\t\t\tGo ahead.  I dare you.\n\nSuddenly, he yelps as if the toaster has actually bitten into his hand\nand won't let go.  The others jump in to help him, but Venkman laughs and\neasily withdraws his hand.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tJust kidding.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  DANA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT\n</b>\nDana brings Oscar into the bathroom and lays him on the bassinet.  She's\nwearing a robe over her nightgown, preparing to bathe the baby.  She\nturns the taps on the old claw-footed bathtub, checks the water\ntemperature, then turns away and starts to undress the baby.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (talking sweetly to the\n\t\t\t\t baby)\n\t\t\tLook at you.  I think we got more food on\n\t\t\tyour shirt than we got in your mouth.\n\n<b>BATHTUB\n</b>\nThe water pouring from the faucet changes to slime and settles at the\nbottom of the tub.  Dana reaches over and turns off the water without\nlooking into the tub.  When she turns away, both taps start to spin by\nthemselves and the tub flexes and bulges.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nStill unaware, she routinely reaches over and squirts some bubble bath\ninto the tub.\n\n<b>BATHTUB\n</b>\nThe rim of the tub puckers up and the sides convulse as if swallowing the\nbubble bath.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>She picks the baby up off the bassinet and turns to place him in the tub.\nShe is just about to lower him into the water when the tub starts to\nclose up around the baby like a hugh mouth.  Dana screams, snatches the\nbaby away and runs from the room clutching Oscar to her bosom as the\nbathtub convulses and vomits up buckets of slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - SAME NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nThe big open loft space is a chaotic clutter of mismatched furniture, old\nmagazines, books, tapes, and sports equipment.  Venkman is asleep on the\nfloor, still wearing his coat, scarf, hat and gloves, having collapsed\njust short of the bedroom.  The DOORBELL RINGS, he wakes up, lumbers to\nhis feet and answers it.  He opens the door and sees Dana standing there.\nShe is wearing only a nightgown under her coat and Oscar is naked,\nwrapped in a baby blanket.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (somewhat embarrassed to\n\t\t\t\t be there)\n\t\t\tI'm sorry.  Were you on your way out?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (surprised to see her)\n\t\t\tNo, I just got in -- a couple hours ago.\n\t\t\tCome on in.\n\t\t\t\t (noting her apparel)\n\t\t\tAre we having a pajama party?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (upset)\n\t\t\tPeter, the bathtub tried to eat Oscar.\n\nVenkman looks at her for a long moment.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou know, if anyone else told me that, I'd\n\t\t\thave serious doubts.  But coming from you,\n\t\t\tI can't honestly say I'm surprised.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI must be losing my mind.  At the museum\n\t\t\ttoday I could have sworn that terrible\n\t\t\tpainting of Vigo looked right at me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWho could blame him?  Were you wearing this\n\t\t\tnightgown?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (distraught)\n\t\t\tI don't know what to do anymore.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'll get Ray and Egon to check out the\n\t\t\tbathtub.  You better stay here.\n\nHe exits to the bathroom.  She looks around the loft, amazed at the\ndisorder.  Venkman comes back immediately with an old sweatshirt and\ntakes Oscar from her.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNow this kid has a serious nudity problem.\n\nHe spreads the sweatshirt out on the sofa, lays the baby on it and starts\ntying it around him like a diaper.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the baby)\n\t\t\tThis is Joe Namath's old number, you know.\n\t\t\tYou could get a lot of chicks with this.\n\t\t\tJust don't pee in it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tPeter, what about the bathtub?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (grabs the phone and dials)\n\t\t\tWe'll take care of that.\n\t\t\t\t (on the phone)\n\t\t\tRay, Pete.  Listen, get over to Dana's right\n\t\t\taway ... Her bathtub pulled a fast one --\n\t\t\ttried to eat the kid.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tIt was full of this awful pink ooze.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Ray)\n\t\t\tSounds like another slime job ... No,\n\t\t\tthey're all right.  They're here now ...\n\t\t\tRight ... Let me know.\n\nHe hangs up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThey're going over there right now.  You\n\t\t\tmight as well make yourself at home.  Let\n\t\t\tme show you around.\n\t\t\t\t (he crosses to the kitchen area)\n\t\t\tThis is the cuisine de maison --\n\nIt's an incredible mess. The sink is piled high with dirty dishes and the\ncounters are littered with all sorts of food trash.  He grabs a big open\nHefty bag on the floor and starts throwing garbage into it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (looking at the sink)\n\t\t\tWe may have to wash some of these if you get\n\t\t\thungry --\n\t\t\t\t (he looks in the fridge)\n\t\t\t-- but there's no food anyway so forget\n\t\t\tabout it.  I have all kinds of carry-out\n\t\t\tmenus if you feel like ordering.\n\nHe opens a drawer full of pizza, barbecue and Chinese food menus, then\ncrosses to the bathroom.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tBathroom's right here -- let me just tidy\n\t\t\tup a few things.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tPeter, this is very nice, but you don't have\n\t\t\tto do any of this, you know.\n\nHe goes into the bathroom and we hear WATER RUNNING, the TOILET FLUSHING\nand more items going into the Hefty bag.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\tThe shower works but it's a little tricky.\n\t\t\tThey're both marked \"Hot.\"  It takes a little\n\t\t\tpractice, but at least this one won't try\n\t\t\tand eat you.\n\nHe comes out of the bathroom with the now-loaded Hefty bag over his\nshoulder.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tBe careful on that sofa -- it's a butt-biter.\n\t\t\tBut the bed's good and I just changed the\n\t\t\tsheets so if you get tired, feel free.  In\n\t\t\tfact, I think you should definitely plan on\n\t\t\tspending the night here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tReally?  And how would we handle the sleeping\n\t\t\tarrangements?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tFor me it's best if I sleep on my side and\n\t\t\tyou spoon up right behind me with your arms\n\t\t\taround me.  If we go the other way I'm\n\t\t\tafraid your hair will be getting in my face\n\t\t\tall night.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHow about you on the sofa and me in bed with\n\t\t\tthe baby.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOr we could do that.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThank you.\n\t\t\t\t (she picks up Oscar)\n\t\t\tPoor baby.  I think I should put him down\n\t\t\tnow.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'll put him down for you.\n\t\t\t\t (taking the baby)\n\t\t\tYou are way too short!  And your belly-button\n\t\t\tsticks out!  You're nothing but a burden to\n\t\t\tyour poor mother!\n\nVenkman carries the baby into the bedroom leaving Dana in the living\nroom, feeling more relaxed and a lot safer.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM - DAY (NEXT MORNING)\n</b>\nVenkman is waiting in front of the building as ECTO-2 pulls up and\nStantz, Spengler and Winston get out and report on Dana's apartment.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDid you find anything at Dana's?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNothing.  Just some mood-slime residue in\n\t\t\tand around the bathtub.  But we did turn up\n\t\t\tsome interesting stuff on this Vigo character\n\t\t\tyou mentioned.  I found the name Vigo the\n\t\t\tCarpathian in Leon Zundinger's Magicians,\n\t\t\tMartyrs and Madmen.  Listen to this:\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reads from xerox of entry)\n\t\t\t\"Vigo the Carpathian, born 1505, died 1610 --\"\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tA hundred and five years?  He really hung\n\t\t\ton, didn't he.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tAnd he didn't die of old age either.  He was\n\t\t\tpoisoned, stabbed, shot, hung, stretched,\n\t\t\tdisemboweled, drawn and quartered.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tI guess he wasn't too popular at the end\n\t\t\tthere.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tNo, not exactly a man of the people.\n\t\t\t\t (reads)\n\t\t\t\"Also known as Vigo the Cruel, Vigo the\n\t\t\tTorturer, Vigo the Despised, and Vigo the\n\t\t\tUnholy.\"\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThis guy was a bad monkey.  He dabbled in\n\t\t\tall the Black Arts, and listen to this\n\t\t\tprophecy.  Just before his head died, his\n\t\t\tlast words were, \"Death is but a door, time\n\t\t\tis but a window.  I'll be back.\"\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThat's it?  \"I'll be back?\"\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tIt's a rough translation from the Moldavian.\n\nThey enter the museum carrying their monitoring equipment.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - SECURITY DESK - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nRudy the guard looks up in surprise as the Ghostbusters enter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tRUDY\n</b>\t\t\tHey, Dr. Venkman.  What's going on?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWe're just going up to Restorations for a\n\t\t\tminute.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tRUDY\n</b>\t\t\tOh, I can't let you do that.  Mr. Poha told\n\t\t\tme not to let you up there anymore.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with mock seriousness)\n\t\t\tOkay, we were trying to keep this quiet but\n\t\t\tI think you can be trusted.  Tell him, Ray.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (very official)\n\t\t\tMister, you have an Ecto-paritic,\n\t\t\tsubfusionary flux in this building.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tRUDY\n</b>\t\t\tWe got a flux?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tYou got a flux and a half.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNow if you don't want to be the --\n\t\t\t\t (he counts)\n\t\t\t-- fifth person ever to die in meta-shock\n\t\t\tfrom a planar rift, I suggest you get down\n\t\t\tbehind that desk and don't move until we\n\t\t\tgive you the signal \"Stabilize -- All Clear.\"\n\nRudy gulps and starts to hunker down behind the desk as the Ghostbusters\nhead upstairs.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - RESTORATION STUDIO - DAY (MOMENTS LATER)\n</b>\nJanosz is working on the Vigo painting when the Ghostbusters enter.  He\nrushes over and stops them at the door.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tDr. Venkman?  Dana is not here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tThen why have you come?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWe got a major creep alert and we're just\n\t\t\tgoing down the list.  Your name was first.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Spengler and Winston)\n\t\t\tLet's sweep it, boys.\n\nThey deploy and start scanning the studio with their monitoring devices.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Janosz)\n\t\t\tYou know, I never got to ask you.  Where you\n\t\t\tfrom, Johnny?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (nervous)\n\t\t\tThe Upper West Side.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (consulting his PKE meter)\n\t\t\tThis entire room is extremely hot, Peter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tWhat exactly are you looking for, Dr. Venkman?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWe'll know when we find it.  You just sit\n\t\t\ttight.  This won't take long.\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nUsing the Giga-meter, he traces a strong psychomagnetheric reading to\nthe painting of Vigo in the alcove at the end of the studio.  Venkman\ncomes up behind him with Janosz right on his heels.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThis is the one that looked at Dana.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt must be the chemical fumes in the studio.\n\t\t\tPeople start imagining things --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (interrupts)\n\t\t\tI'm going to rule out the glue-sniffing\n\t\t\ttheory.  If she says it looked at her, it\n\t\t\tlooked at her.\n\t\t\t\t (to Vigo)\n\t\t\tHey, you!  Vigie!  Look at me.  I'm talking\n\t\t\tto you.  Hey!  Look at me when I'm talking\n\t\t\tto you.\n\nThey watch the painting for any sign of movement.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nHis eyes stare lifelessly into the distance.\n\n<b>STANTZ AND VENKMAN\n</b>\nVenkman starts shooting Polaroids of Vigo.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Vigo)\n\t\t\tBeautiful, beautiful.  Work with me, baby.\n\t\t\tJust have fun with it.\n\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tOkay, he's playing it cool.  Let's finish\n\t\t\tup and get out of here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI'll get one more reading.\n\nVenkman walks off leaving Stantz alone with the painting.  Stantz scans\nthe painting with the Giga-meter until his eyes meet Vigo's.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nHis eyes seems to burn right through to the depths of Stantz's soul.\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe stands there transfixed, unable to look away, as a strange and subtle\ntransformation occurs within him.  Winston comes up behind him and breaks\nthe spell.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (looking at the painting)\n\t\t\tNow that's one ugly dude.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (coming back to his senses)\n\t\t\tHuh?  What?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tYou finished here?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (distracted)\n\t\t\tWhat?  Yeah.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tAre you all right?  You coming down with\n\t\t\tsomething?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I'm fine.  I just got light-headed for\n\t\t\ta second there.  Let's go.\n\nThey head for the door.\n\n<b>JANOSZ\n</b>\nHe escorts the Ghostbusters to the door.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tSo you see, everything is in order, is it\n\t\t\tnot?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNot.  Don't leave town and report any change\n\t\t\tin your address to the proper authorities.\n\t\t\tWe'll be back.\n\nThey exit.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters cross to ECTO-2.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tThere's definitely something going on in\n\t\t\tthat studio.  The PKE levels were max-plus\n\t\t\tand the Giga-meter was showing all red.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tI'd put my money on that Vigo character.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, that's a safe bet.\n\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tYou and Spengman see what else you can dig\n\t\t\tup on Vigo and this little weasel Poha.\n\t\t\tThose two were made for each other.\n\n<b>INT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters are driving back to the firehouse.  Stantz is at the\nwheel.  His eyes are vacant, he seems distracted and very tense.  Stantz\nswerves suddenly and HONKS the horn angrily.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to another driver)\n\t\t\tIdiot!\n\t\t\t\t (honking)\n\t\t\tMove it, you jerk!\n\nVenkman and Winston exchange surprised looks.\n\n<b>EXT.  STREET - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nStantz drives extremely fast, HONKING vindictively, weaving dangerously\nthrough traffic.\n\n<b>INT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nWinston looks at Ray, concerned.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tGoing a little fast, aren't we, Ray?\n\nStantz turns on him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (viciously)\n\t\t\tAre you telling me how to drive?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I just thought --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWell don't think!\n\nHe HONKS again and tromps hard on the accelerator.\n\n<b>EXT.  STREET - DAY (CONTINUOUS)\n</b>\nEcto-2 is now barreling down the avenue.  Pedestrians leap to safety as\nStantz runs a red light.\n\n<b>INT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThey hang on to the safety straps as Stantz continues his maniacal ride.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Stantz, really worried\n\t\t\t\t now)\n\t\t\tAre you crazy, man?  You're going to kill\n\t\t\tsomebody!\n\nStantz looks at him and smile demonically.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I'm going to kill everybody!\n\nHe swerves off the road.\n\n<b>EXT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe car heads right for a big tree.\n\n<b>INT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nAt the last possible moment, Winston cold-cocks Stantz, grabs the wheel\nand steps across to stomp on the brakes.\n\n<b>EXT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe car skids into the tree and stops.  The Ghostbusters stumble out\ndazed and shaken, but unhurt.  Stantz rubs his eyes and looks at the\nothers, completely at a loss.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (himself again)\n\t\t\tWhat happened?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou just picked up three penalty points on\n\t\t\tyour driver's license.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tAre you all right?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, I guess so.  It was the strangest\n\t\t\tthing.  I knew what I was doing but I\n\t\t\tcouldn't stop.  This really terrible feeling\n\t\t\tcame over me and -- I don't know -- I just\n\t\t\tfelt like driving into that tree and ending\n\t\t\tit all.  Whew!  Sorry, boys.\n\nThey inspect the damage to the car.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (confidentially, to\n\t\t\t\t Spengler)\n\t\t\tWatch him, Egon.  Don't even let him shave.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThere's a KNOCK at the front door, a key turns in the lock, and Venkman\nenters somewhat tentatively holding a bouquet of flowers and a small\nsuitcase of Dana's.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (calls out)\n\t\t\tI'm home!\n\nHe looks around the large open loft.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to himself)\n\t\t\tI knew it.  She cleaned.\n\nHe hears the SHOWER RUNNING and crosses to the bathroom.  The door is\nhalf-open and he can see Dana in the shower (tastefully blurred) through\nthe transparent vinyl curtain.  He closes the bathroom door and looks at\nthe baby asleep on the bed, surrounded by pillows to prevent him rolling\noff.  Then he turns and bumps into Dana who's just coming out of the\nbathroom wrapped in a towel.  She jumps back into the bathroom.\n\nShe comes out again, this time wearing a robe.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAre you all squeaky clean now?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (humoring him)\n\t\t\tYes, I'm very clean.  Did they find anything\n\t\t\tat my apartment?\n\nShe squeezes past him into the bedroom and closes the door.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (through the door)\n\t\t\tNothing.  They stayed there all night, went\n\t\t\tthrough your personal stuff, made a bunch of\n\t\t\tlong-distance phone calls and cleaned out\n\t\t\tyour refrigerator.  And didn't find anything.\n\nDana opens the bedroom door.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThey didn't find anything?  In the bathtub\n\t\t\t... the pink ooze ... nothing?  So, what do\n\t\t\tI do now?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNow you get dressed and we go out.  I got a\n\t\t\tbabysitter and everything.  Trust me, you\n\t\t\tneed it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI'm not here to date.  I can't leave Oscar\n\t\t\tin a strange place with someone I don't know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tIt's Janine Melnitz, from my staff.  She's\n\t\t\tone of my most valuable employees.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tDoes she know anything about babies?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tJanine Melnitz, are you kidding?\n\t\t\t\t (handing her the flowers)\n\t\t\tDo I have a vase?  I brought some of your\n\t\t\tclothes.  Wear something intriguing.  I\n\t\t\tbrought along some interesting possibilities.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, but it's not a date.  It's a dinner.\n\nShe smiles and closes the door again.  He opens the closet and starts\nlooking for his good suit.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDid you happen to see some shirts on the\n\t\t\tfloor in here?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\tI put them in your hamper.  I thought they\n\t\t\twere dirty.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shaking his head)\n\t\t\tI have a hamper?  Next time ask me first,\n\t\t\tokay.  I have more than two grades of\n\t\t\tlaundry.  There're lots of subtle levels\n\t\t\tbetween clean and dirty.\n\nHe pulls some clothes out of the hamper and inspects them.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThese aren't so bad yet.  You just hang them\n\t\t\tup for a while and they're fine.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b><b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - RECEPTION AREA - EARLY EVENING\n</b>\nJanine covers her computer terminal and starts turning out the lights.\nThen she notices that the lights are still on upstairs.  She starts\nprimping and freshening up her makeup.\n\n<b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - LAB AREA - SAME TIME\n</b>\nLouis is strapping on a proton pack, preparing to deal with Slimer once\nand for all.  He's wearing a bicyclist's rearview mirror on a headband.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to himself)\n\t\t\tOkay, Stinky, this is it.  Showdown time.\n\t\t\tYou and me, pal.  You think you're smarter\n\t\t\tthan I am?  We'll see about that.\n\t\t\t\t (loud)\n\t\t\tOh, hello, Pizza Man!  Oh, two larges!  I\n\t\t\tonly ordered one.  Oh, pepperoni and\n\t\t\tpineapple.  My absolute favorite.  I guess\n\t\t\tI'll have to eat these both by myself.\n\n<b>THE CEILING\n</b>\nSlimer pokes his head through the ceiling and scans the room hanging\nupside down.\n\n<b>LOUIS\n</b>\nHe spots Slimer through the rearview mirror.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (quietly)\n\t\t\tOkay, let's boogie!\n\nHe whirls around and fires a proton stream at Slimer, slicing a burning a\ngash across the ceiling.\n\n<b>THE STAIRS\n</b>\nJanine comes up and ducks as a bolt of energy streaks across the room and\nstrikes the wall behind her.  Slimer disappears.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (embarrassed and apologetic)\n\t\t\tOh migod!  I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to do\n\t\t\tthat.  It was an accident.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tWhat are you doing up here?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI was trying to get that smelly green thing.\n\t\t\tThe guys asked me to help out.  I'm like the\n\t\t\tfifth Ghostbuster.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tWhy would you want to be a Ghostbuster if\n\t\t\tyou're already an accountant?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh, no, it's just if one of the guys calls\n\t\t\tin sick or gets hurt.\n\nLouis quickly slips off the proton pack and sets it down.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tHave you made any plans yet?  You know\n\t\t\ttomorrow is New Year's Eve.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I celebrate at the beginning of my\n\t\t\tcorporate tax year which is March first.\n\t\t\tThat way I beat the crowds.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tThat's very practical.  I hate going out on\n\t\t\tNew Year's Eve, too.\n\nThere is an awkward silence between them and Janine starts to leave.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tWell, good night, Louis.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on an impulse)\n\t\t\tJanine, do you feel like maybe getting\n\t\t\tsomething to eat on the way home?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tI'd like to, but I told Dr. Venkman I'd\n\t\t\tbabysit.\n\t\t\t\t (seductively)\n\t\t\tDo you want to babysit with me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh, sure, that sounds great.\n\nThey exit.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nThere is a KNOCK at the door and Venkman goes to answer it.  He's dressed\nfor the evening and looking very dapper.\n\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - ENTRANCE HALL - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n</b>\nVenkman opens the door and finds Stantz, Spengler and Winston standing\nthere wearing over-the-hip rubberized waders, firemen's slickers, and\nminers' helmets, carrying tons of sensing devices, meters, collection\njars and photographic equipment.  They look like they're rigged out for a\nmajor spelunking expedition.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (ushering them in)\n\t\t\tDon't tell me, let me guess.  All-you-can-eat\n\t\t\tbarbecue rib night at the Sizzler?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWe're going down into the sewer system to\n\t\t\tsee if we can trace the source of the\n\t\t\tpsycho-reactive slime flow.  We thought you\n\t\t\tmight want to come along.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDarn it!  I wish I'd known you were going.\n\t\t\tI'm stuck with these damn dinner reservations.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tYou know, animals and lower life forms often\n\t\t\tanticipate major disasters.  Given the new\n\t\t\tmagnetheric readings we could see a tremendous\n\t\t\tbreeding surge in the cockroach population.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tRoach breeding?  Sounds better and better.\n\t\t\t\t (calls out)\n\t\t\tDana?  The boys are going down under the\n\t\t\tsewers tonight to look for slime.  Egon\n\t\t\tthinks there might even be some kind of big\n\t\t\troach-breeding surge.  Should we forget about\n\t\t\tdinner and go with them instead?\n\nDana steps into the living room looking very beautiful.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWow.\n\nDana looks curiously at their outfits.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHi.\n\nThey nod and wave back.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Ray and Egon)\n\t\t\tI think we're going to have to pass on the\n\t\t\tsewer trip, boys.  Let me know what you find\n\t\t\tout.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on his exit)\n\t\t\tOkay, but you're missing all the fun.\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nStantz, Spengler and Winston come down the stairs into the station,\nguided by a very old map of the underground city.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThis is it.  Van Horne Station.  Right where\n\t\t\tthe old transit map said it would be.\n\nThey cross to the edge of the platform and look into the river of slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tLet's get a sounding on the depth of that\n\t\t\tflow.\n\nStantz has a long, coiled, graduated cord with a plumb bob on the end of\nit attached to his utility belt.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tStand back.\n\nHe takes the cord in his hand, swings the plumb bob over his head and\ncasts it out into the middle of the flow.  The plumb bob sinks and\nSpengler reads the depth.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tSix feet -- seven -- eight --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThat's it.  It's on the bottom.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tNine feet -- ten --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tIs the line sinking?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tNo, the slime is rising.\n\nStantz looks down and notices the slime rising over the edge of the\nplatform and around his boots.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (alarmed)\n\t\t\tLet's get out of here, boys.\n\nHe starts to pull out the plumb line but it seems to be stuck.\n\nSpengler tries to help, but whatever is pulling on the cord is stronger\nthan all three of them.  As their unseen adversary pulls them closer and\ncloser to the edge, Stantz works desperately to unhook the cord from his\nbelt but finally just unhooks the whole belt.  Spengler lets go in time\nbut Winston doesn't.  He is jerked off his feet and into the slime flow.\nStantz and Spengler look at each other, summon their courage and jump in\nafter him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  ARMAND RESTAURANT - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nDana and Venkman are sitting at a table in an elegant restaurant nibbling\ncaviar and toasting with very expensive champagne.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (very intimate)\n\t\t\tHere's to -- us.\n\nShe sighs and drinks.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo -- are you making any New Year's\n\t\t\tresolutions?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI want to stop getting involved with men who\n\t\t\taren't good for me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDoes that start exactly at midnight tomorrow,\n\t\t\tor could you hold off for a few days maybe?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tFor one night in your life, do you think\n\t\t\tit's possible for us to be completely real?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAll right, you want to be real?  So tell me\n\t\t\twhy did you dump me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tOh, Peter, I didn't dump you.  I just had\n\t\t\tto protect myself.  You really weren't very\n\t\t\tgood for me, you know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm not even good for me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tWhy do you say things like that?  You're so\n\t\t\tmuch better than you know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThank you.  If I had that kind of support\n\t\t\ton a daily basis, I could definitely shape\n\t\t\tup by the turn of the century.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (already feeling the\n\t\t\t\t effects of the champagne)\n\t\t\tSo why don't you give me a jingle in the\n\t\t\tyear 2000?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tLet me jingle you right now.\n\nHe leans over to kiss her.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tMaybe I should call Janine.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDon't worry.  Janine has a very special way\n\t\t\twith children.\n\nThey kiss.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  APARTMENT - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nJanine is on the sofa doing her nails while Louis paces with the baby.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (looking around)\n\t\t\tI can't believe a person could actually live\n\t\t\tlike this.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the baby)\n\t\t\tSo these dwarfs had a limited partnership in\n\t\t\ta small mining operation and then one day a\n\t\t\tbeautiful princess came to live with them.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tIt's really not a bad place.  It just needs\n\t\t\ta woman's touch.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (continuing)\n\t\t\tSo they bartered room and board in exchange\n\t\t\tfor housekeeping services, which was a good\n\t\t\tdeal for all of them because then they didn't\n\t\t\thave to withhold tax and social security,\n\t\t\twhich I'm not saying is right but it's just\n\t\t\ta story, so I guess it's all right.  I can\n\t\t\tfinish this later if you're tired.\n\nLouis goes into the bedroom and puts the baby down.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tYou're really good with children, Louis.  I\n\t\t\tcan tell.\n\t\t\t\t (as he returns)\n\t\t\tWhy don't you come here and sit with me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOkay.\n\nHe sits stiffly beside her on the sofa.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (getting close)\n\t\t\tMotherhood is a very natural instinct for\n\t\t\tme.  I'd like to have a baby myself.\n\t\t\tWouldn't you?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (gulps)\n\t\t\tTonight?\n\n<b>EXT.  STREET - MANHOLE COVER - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nA manhole cover is dislodged and pushed up from below.  It slides away,\nand Winston crawls out of the manhole followed by Stantz and Spengler.\nThey are exhausted and covered with slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (uncharacteristically\n\t\t\t\t angry)\n\t\t\tNice going, Ray!  What were you trying to\n\t\t\tdo -- drown me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (unusually mean)\n\t\t\tLook, Zeddemore, it wasn't my fault you were\n\t\t\ttoo stupid to drop that line.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shoves him)\n\t\t\tYou better watch your mouth, man, or I'll\n\t\t\tpunch your lights out.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOh yeah?  Anytime, anytime.  Just go ahead\n\t\t\tand try it.\n\nSpengler steps between them with unprecedented aggression.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tIf you two are looking for a fight, you got\n\t\t\tone.\n\t\t\t\t (putting up his fists)\n\t\t\tWho wants it first?  Come on, Ray.  Try me,\n\t\t\tsucker.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (squaring off)\n\t\t\tButt out, you pencil-necked geek.  I've had\n\t\t\tit with you.\n\nThey grab each other and start to tussle.  Suddenly Spengler comes to his\nsenses and pulls them apart.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (forcefully)\n\t\t\tStrip!  Right now!  Get out of those clothes!\n\nHe starts yanking off his slicker and waders.  Bewildered, Stantz and\nWinston start doing the same.  Spengler helps pull off their clothes and\nthrows them into the open manhole.  Now wearing only long underwear, they\nseem to return to normal.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tWhat are we doing?  Ray, I was ready to kill\n\t\t\tyou.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tDon't you see?  It's the slime.  That stuff\n\t\t\tis like pure, concentrated evil.\n\nStantz looks around and sees that they are standing right in front of the\nmuseum.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tAnd it's all flowing right to this spot.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  ARMAND RESTAURANT ENTRANCE - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe MAITRE D' looks up in surprise as Stantz, Spengler and Winston enter\nthe restaurant wearing only long underwear.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAITRE D'\n</b>\t\t\t\t (intercepting them)\n\t\t\tCan I help you?\n\nStantz looks around and spots Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThat's all right, I see him.\n\nThey blow right by the Maitre d' who jumps back in horror as they pass.\n\n<b>VENKMAN\n</b>\nHe's just about to pour more champagne when he sees Ray, Egon and Winston\ncoming toward him through the restaurant.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (very excited)\n\t\t\tYou should've been there, Venkman.\n\t\t\tAbsolutely incredible!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, sorry I missed it.\n\t\t\t\t (noting their attire)\n\t\t\tI guess you guys didn't know about the dress\n\t\t\tcode here.  It's really kind of a coat and\n\t\t\ttie place.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt's all over the city, Pete -- well, under\n\t\t\tit actually.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tRivers of the stuff!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tAnd it's all flowing toward the museum.\n\nHe gestures excitedly and a big gob of slime flies across the room and\nlands on a well-dressed diner.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (calls out)\n\t\t\tSorry!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tMaybe we should discuss this somewhere else.\n\nVenkman notes the look of alarm on Dana's face and pulls his colleagues\naside.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (confidentially)\n\t\t\tBoys, listen.  You're scaring the straights.\n\t\t\tLet's save this until tomorrow, okay?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Venkman)\n\t\t\tThis won't wait until tomorrow, Venkman.\n\t\t\tIt's hot and it's ready to pop.\n\n<b>MAITRE D'\n</b>\nHe hurries through the restaurant with two city COPS right behind him and\nmakes straight for Venkman's table.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAITRE D'\n</b>\t\t\tArrest these men.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (recognizing them)\n\t\t\tHey!  It's the Ghostbusters.  You're out of\n\t\t\tuniform, gentlemen\n\nStantz suddenly realizes how ridiculous they look.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (self-conscious)\n\t\t\tUh -- well -- we had a little accident, but\n\t\t\tforget that.  We have to see the mayor as\n\t\t\tsoon as possible.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\tLook, Doc, why don't you just go home.\n\t\t\tYou'll get a good night's sleep and then you\n\t\t\tcan give the mayor a call in the morning.\n\t\t\tCome on.\n\nHe takes Stantz by the arm but Stantz resists.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWe're not going anywhere with you.  I told\n\t\t\tyou we have to see the mayor now.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (grabbing Stantz)\n\t\t\tI'm warning you.  You can come along\n\t\t\tpeaceably or --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (grabs the Cop)\n\t\t\tHey, don't be an idiot.  This is serious.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (angry)\n\t\t\tLook, pal, keep this up and you're going\n\t\t\twith them.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOh, yeah?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (has had enough)\n\t\t\tYeah, let's go.  You're all under arrest.\n\nThe Cop catches Venkman in an armlock and starts walking him out of the\nrestaurant.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tFinish your dessert -- it's already paid\n\t\t\tfor.  I'll call you.\n\nThey all exit, causing a major commotion among the other diners.\n\n<b>EXT.  ARMAND'S RESTAURANT - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe police car is parked right behind Ecto-2.  Spengler stops at the\npolice car and confronts the cops.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tLook, we're not drunk and we're not crazy.\n\t\t\tThis is a matter of vital importance.\n\nVenkman steps in and looks at the policemen's nametags.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\tWhat are you doing?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI just want to get your names right for when\n\t\t\tthe mayor asks us why we didn't let him know\n\t\t\tabout this sooner.\n\nThe Cops look at each other, uncertain about what to do.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (relenting)\n\t\t\tOkay, Doc.  You want to see the mayor, you\n\t\t\tgot it.  Follow us.\n\nThey head for their respective vehicles.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nLouis and Janine are on the sofa making out when Dana enters.  They jump\nup and start smoothing their clothes.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (embarrassed)\n\t\t\tOh, hello, Dana.  we were just -- we were --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI know what you were doing, Louis.  It's\n\t\t\tall right.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tHow was your date?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tTypical.  Peter was arrested.  Has he called?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tNo, nobody called.\n\nDana frowns.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tIs everything all right with Oscar?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tOh, he's fine.  He's such a good baby.  He\n\t\t\twas a little fussy at first, but we gave\n\t\t\thim a Freach bread pizza and he went right\n\t\t\tto sleep.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (relieved)\n\t\t\tOh, good.  I'll just check on him.\n\nShe crosses to the bedroom.\n\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S BEDROOM - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nDana looks at Oscar sleeping peacefully on the bed.  She starts to change\nclothes.\n\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nLouis and Janine aren't sure what to do.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tShould we go?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tI don't think we should leave her alone.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tYou're right.  We should stay.\n\nHe grabs Janine and they start making out again.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM RESTORATION STUDIO - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nJanosz stands before the painting of Vigo.  Vigo comes to life and\nrepeats the litany of his power.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tI, Vigo, the scourge of Carpathia --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (heard all this before)\n\t\t\tYes, the scourge --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\t-- the sorrow of Moldavia --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t-- the sorrow --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tI command you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (checking his watch)\n\t\t\tI await the word of Vigo.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tThe season of evil begins with the birth of\n\t\t\tthe new year.  Bring me the child that I\n\t\t\tmight live again.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (abjectly humble)\n\t\t\tLord Vigo, the mother, Dana, is fine and\n\t\t\tstrong.  I was wondering -- well, would it\n\t\t\tbe possible -- if I bring the baby, could I\n\t\t\thave the woman?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tSo be it.  On this the day of darkness, she\n\t\t\twill be ours, wife to you and mother to me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  CARL SCHURZ PARK - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nPreceded by a police car, Ecto-2 enters the small park on the East River\nat 88th Street and disappears into an underground entrance.  The CAMERA\nPANS UP to reveal Gracie Mansion, the residence of the Mayor of New York\nCity.\n\n<b>INT.  GRACIE MANSION - MOMENTS LATER\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters, now wearing police raincoats over their longjohns are\nushered through the house by a butler to a set of double oak doors.  The\nbutler knocks lightly, then opens the door to reveal the MAYOR sitting in\nfront of the fireplace in his well-appointed private study, flanked by\nJack Hardemeyer, both in tuxedoes.  The Ghostbusters enter.\n\n<b>INT.  STUDY - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n</b>\nThe Mayor is impatient and a little angry at having been pulled out of\nhis formal reception.  He frowns at their bizarre attire.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\tAll right -- the Ghostbusters.  I'll tell\n\t\t\tyou right now; I've got two hundred of the\n\t\t\theaviest campaign contributors in the city\n\t\t\tout there eating bad roast chicken waiting\n\t\t\tfor me to give the speech of my life.\n\t\t\tYou've got two minutes.  Make it good.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou get enough negative energy flowing in a\n\t\t\tdense environment like Manhattan, it starts\n\t\t\tto build up, and if we don't do something\n\t\t\tfast this whole place will blow like a frog\n\t\t\ton a hotplate.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tTell him about the toaster.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI don't think he's ready for the toaster.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shaking his head)\n\t\t\tBeing miserable and treating other people\n\t\t\tlike dirt is every New Yorker's God-given\n\t\t\tright.  What am I supposed to do -- go on\n\t\t\ttelevision and tell eight million people\n\t\t\tthey have to be nice to each other?  I'm\n\t\t\tsorry, none of this makes any sense to me,\n\t\t\tand if anything does happen we've got plenty\n\t\t\tof paid professionals to deal with it.  Your\n\t\t\ttwo minutes are up.  Good night, gentlemen.\n\nThe mayor exits, leaving the Ghostbusters to Hardemeyer.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (smirking)\n\t\t\tThat's quite a story.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, I think the Times might be interested,\n\t\t\tdon't you?  The Post might have a lot of fun\n\t\t\twith it, too.\n\nHardemeyer's eyes go cold and calculating.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tBefore you go running to the newspapers with\n\t\t\tthis, would you consider telling this slime\n\t\t\tthing to some people downtown?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNow you're talking.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  PARKVIEW HOSPITAL - PSYCHIATRIC WARD - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nAn attendant opens a locked door with a wire mesh window and the\nGhostbusters, in straitjackets, are led into the psych ward as Hardemeyer\nconfers with the chief PSYCHIATRIST.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (protesting)\n\t\t\tI'm telling you, we're not crazy.  He is!\n\n<b>HARDEMEYER\n</b>\nHe laughs off the remark.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Psychiatrist)\n\t\t\tThe mayor wants them kept under strict\n\t\t\tobservation for a few days.  We think\n\t\t\tthey're seriously disturbed and potentially\n\t\t\tdangerous.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPSYCHIATRIST\n</b>\t\t\tWe'll do whatever's necessary.\n\nHardemeyer shakes his hand and exits as the door slams shut on the\nGhostbusters.\n\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nLouis and Janine are watching an old rerun on TV, eating popcorn, while\nDana is stretched out on the other sofa.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (wishing they'd leave)\n\t\t\tYou know you really don't have to stay.\n\t\t\tPeter should be back soon.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh no, we don't mind.\n\nShe hears a little CRY from the nursery and sits up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tExcuse me.  I think Oscar is up.\n\nShe crosses to the bedroom.\n\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S BEDROOM - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nDana enters and immediately notices that the crib is empty and the window\nis open.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (screams)\n\t\t\tLouis!\n\nFrantic now, Dana rushes to the window and looks out, as Louis and Janine\ncome running in.\n\n<b>EXT.  WINDOW LEDGE - DANA'S POV - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nThe baby is standing out on the ledge at the corner of the building,\nfifty feet above the street, staring off into the distance as if he's\nwaiting for something.\n\n<b>EXT.  WINDOW LEDGE - NIGHT (ECLIPSE) (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nDana climbs out onto the ledge and starts inching slowly toward the baby.\nThen she stops as a miraculous apparition materializes.\n\n<b>LOUIS AND JANINE\n</b>\nThey lean out the window, gaping at the apparition.\n\n<b>EXT.  VENKMAN'S LEDGE - APPARITION\n</b>\nA sweet, kindly-looking English nanny appears, pushing a pram, strolling\non thin air parallel to the ledge high above the ground.  Her face looks\nremarkably like Janosz Poha's.  The nanny extends her hand to the BABY\nwho GURGLES sweetly as he reaches out to take it.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe watches in helpless horror.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (screams)\n\t\t\tNo!!\n\n<b>GHOST NANNY\n</b>\nShe picks up the baby and lays it gently in the pram, then turns and\nsmiles at Dana.  The smile turns to a hideous grin, then the nanny\nshrieks at Dana and takes off like a shot with the baby.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe watches the creature fly off with Oscar, then climbs back through\nthe window assisted by Louis and Janine.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (resolutely)\n\t\t\tLouis, you have to find Peter and tell him\n\t\t\twhat happened.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (confused and worried)\n\t\t\tWhere're you going?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tTo get my baby back.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM - NIGHT (A LITTLE LATER)\n</b>\nA taxi pulls up, Dana jumps out and rushes into the museum.  The moment\nthe door closes behind her, there is a loud THUNDERCLAP, the ground\ntrembles and a massive amount of slime erupts from around the base of\nthe museum and starts covering the walls, sealing her inside the\nbuilding.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  PARKVIEW PSYCHIATRIC - PADDED ROOM - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nVenkman, Stantz, Spengler and Winston are in a padded cell.  They are\nhandcuffed and the cuffs are chained to thick leather belts around their\nwaists.  Venkman stands there banging his head into the padded wall\nwhile the others try to explain the situation to a skeptical\nPsychiatrist.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWe think the spirit of Vigo the Carpathian\n\t\t\tis alive in a painting at the Manhattan\n\t\t\tMuseum.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPSYCHIATRIST\n</b>\t\t\tI see. And are there any other paintings in\n\t\t\tthe museum with bad spirits in them?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (impatient)\n\t\t\tYou're wasting valuable time!  We have reason\n\t\t\tto believe that Vigo is drawing strength from\n\t\t\ta psychomagnetheric slime flow that's been\n\t\t\tcollecting under the city.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPSYCHIATRIST\n</b>\t\t\tYes, tell me about the slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tIt's potent stuff.  We made a toaster dance\n\t\t\twith it, then a bathtub tried to eat his\n\t\t\tfriend's baby.\n\nThe psychiatrist looks at Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDon't look at me.  I think they're nuts.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM RESTORATION STUDIO - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nMoonlight streams through the skylight above, bathing the studio in\neerie white light.  Oscar is lying safely on a table in front of the\npainting of Vigo.  Dana enters cautiously and sees the baby.  Seeing no\none else about, she quickly sneaks down to the table and picks up the\nbaby, hugging hin tight, greatly relieved to find him unharmed and\nintact.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\tI knew you would come.\n\nStartled, Dana turns at the sound of his voice as Janosz steps out from\nbehind the Vigo painting.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (defiantly)\n\t\t\tWhat do you want with my baby?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo harm will come to the child.  You might\n\t\t\teven say it's a privilege.  He will be the\n\t\t\tvessel for the spirit of Vigo.  And you --\n\t\t\twell, you will be the mother of the ruler\n\t\t\tof the world.  Doesn't that sound nice?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tIf this is what the world will be like, I\n\t\t\tdon't want to live in it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (confidentially, indicating\n\t\t\t\t Vigo)\n\t\t\tI don't believe we have the luxury of choice.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tEverybody has a choice.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tNot in this case, my dear.  Take a look.\n\t\t\tThat's not Gainsborough's Blue Boy up there.\n\t\t\tHe's Vigo!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI don't care who he is.  He's not taking my\n\t\t\tbaby.\n\nDana walks quickly to the door but suddenly Oscar flies out of her arms,\nfloats across the room and lands lightly back in the cradle.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe turns and looks at Vigo, for the first time feeling his power.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou will see.  It's all for the best.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  PARKVIEW HOSPITAL - DAY (NEXT MORNING)\n</b>\nIt's the last day of the year and the sun is shining brightly.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  PARKVIEW PSYCHIATRIC WARD - DAY (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters are sitting in the dayroom, a dingy lounge for patients\nin the locked ward.  There is a television set, a Ping-Pong table and a\nfew tables and chairs.  Stantz is looking at the sky through the heavy\nwire mesh covering the windows.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThis is it. boys.  It's starting.  Shit-storm\n<b>\t\t\t2000.\n</b>\nVenkman is doing occupational therapy, weaving on a little hand-loom.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tIt better not start yet.  I'm trying to\n\t\t\tfinish my potholder before lunch.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tYou think all those predictions about the\n\t\t\tworld coming to an end in the 1990s are true?\n\nA PATIENT at the next table joins the discussion.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPATIENT\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with certainty)\n\t\t\t1997.  My dog told me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat kind of dog?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPATIENT\n</b>\t\t\tLabrador.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shakes his head)\n\t\t\tHabitual liars.  They can't help it.  It's\n\t\t\tin the breed.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  PARKVIEW HOSPITAL - EXAMINING ROOM - DAY (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nLouis is pleading with his cousin, SHERMAN TULLY, a doctor on the staff\nat Parkview.  He looks and sounds just like Louis.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tCome on, Sherm.  You're my cousin.  Do this\n\t\t\tfor me.  I'm begging you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI can't do it, Louis.  It isn't ethical.  I\n\t\t\tcould lose my license.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tWhy can't you just have them released?\n\t\t\tYou're a doctor.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm a dermatologist.  I can't write orders\n\t\t\ton the psych ward.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tSherman, I've done lots of favors for you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tLike what?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI got you out of those bad tax shelters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou were the one who got me in.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI fixed you up with Diane Troxler and she\n\t\t\tput out, didn't she?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, I had to give her free dermabrasion\n\t\t\tfor a year.  Forget it, Louis.  I could get\n\t\t\tin a lot of trouble.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI'm telling you, we're all going to be in\n\t\t\tbig trouble if we don't do something fast.\n\t\t\tThat ghost guy came and took my friend's\n\t\t\tbaby and we got to get it back.  It's just\n\t\t\ta scared little baby, Sherm.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThen you should go to the police.  I don't\n\t\t\tbelieve in any of that stuff.\n\nSherman looks out the window.\n\n<b>EXT.  SKY - SHERMAN'S POV\n</b>\nThe sky begins to go dark as the sun is magically eclipsed.\n\n<b>INT.  EXAMINING ROOM - CONTINUOUS ACTION - DAY\n</b>\nThe room goes dark.  Louis switches on a lamp which casts an eerie light\non his face.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (spooky)\n\t\t\tDo you believe it now, Sherm?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  HUDSON RIVER PIER - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nA drainpipe starts dripping slime into the river near the Cunard Line\ndocks.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  PUBLIC FOUNTAIN (59TH AND FIFTH) - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nWith the Plaza Hotel in the background, the fountain starts to spout\npsycho-reactive slime.\n\n<b>HOTEL ENTRANCE\n</b>\nA well-heeled MAN and WOMAN step out of a limousine and walk up the steps\ntoward the revolving door.  She looks up at the sky and frowns.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWOMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shrewish)\n\t\t\tI told you we should have stayed in Palm\n\t\t\tBeach.  The weather here gets stranger every\n\t\t\tyear.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYes, dear.\n\nShe doesn't notice it, but a small amount of slime falls on the back of\nher luxurious, full-length, white mink coat.  The doorman nods\ncourteously and extends a hand to help her up the stairs.\n\n<b>WOMAN\n</b>\nShe yelps in pain.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWOMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the doorman)\n\t\t\tSomething just bit me!\n\nThe doorman looks curiously at her, then recoils in shock as her coat\ncomes alive.  MINK HEADS pop out of the thick fur, SNARLING, BARKING and\nYAPPING, their sharp, little teeth biting the air.  Reacting quickly, the\ndoorman yanks the coat off the woman's back, throws it to the ground and\nstarts stomping on it as the Woman and her husband look on in horror.\nThe coat scuttles down the steps and runs off down the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MIDTOWN CENTRAL POLICE PRECINCT - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nThe squad room is busy as DETECTIVES try to answer the flood of calls\nregarding the wave of supernatural events sweeping the city.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDETECTIVE ONE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on the phone)\n\t\t\tLook, lady, of course there are dead people\n\t\t\tthere.  It's a cemetery ...\n\t\t\t\t (his face falls)\n\t\t\tThey were asking you for directions?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDETECTIVE TWO\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on another phone)\n\t\t\tWas this a big dinosaur or a little dinosaur?\n\t\t\t... Oh, just the skeleton, huh?  Well, where\n\t\t\tis it now?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDETECTIVE THREE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on the phone)\n\t\t\tWait a second -- the park bench was chasing\n\t\t\tyou?  You mean, someone was chasing you in\n\t\t\tthe park ... No, the bench itself was chasing\n\t\t\tyou.  I see --\n\nA weary SERGEANT answers a RINGING PHONE.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSERGEANT\n</b>\t\t\tManhattan Central, Flaherty speaking ...\n\t\t\tYeah ... yeah? ... What?  Who is this? ...\n\t\t\tWait a second.\n\nHe puts the caller on \"Hold\" and turns the LIEUTENANT.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSERGEANT\n</b>\t\t\tLieutenant, I think you better talk to this\n\t\t\tguy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLIEUTENANT\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on another call)\n\t\t\tWhat is it?  I'm talkin' here!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSERGEANT\n</b>\t\t\tIt's some dock supervisor down at Pier 34\n\t\t\ton the Hudson.  The guy's going nuts.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLIEUTENANT\n</b>\t\t\tWhat's the problem?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSERGEANT\n</b>\t\t\t\t (takes a deep breath)\n\t\t\tHe says the Titanic just arrived.\n\n<b>INT.  PORT AUTHORITY OFFICE - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nThe dock supervisor stands there with the phone in his hand, an assistant\nbeside him, both staring out the window at the ocean liner tied up at the\npier.\n\n<b>EXT.  PIER 34 - THEIR POV - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nThe name \"R.M.S. Titanic\" is clearly visible on the side of the huge\nship.  The gangplank is down and dozens of drowned passengers, sopping\nwet and festooned with seaweed, are disembarking while drowned porters\noff-load their waterlogged baggage.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  PARKVIEW HOSPITAL - NIGHT (MOMENTS LATER)(ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nEcto-2 is parked outside as Louis and Sherman come out of the hospital\nwith the Ghostbusters, now wearing their standard uniforms.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tGood work, Louis.  How did you get us out?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh, I pulled a few strings.  I wouldn't want\n\t\t\tto say any more than that.\n\nLouis winks conspiratorially at Sherman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tThis is my cousin Sherman.  Sherm, say hello\n\t\t\tto the Ghostbusters.\n\t\t\t\t (sotto voce to Stantz)\n\t\t\tI promised him a ride in the car if he got\n\t\t\tyou out.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Ghostbusters)\n\t\t\tHi, it's really great to meet you guys.  I\n\t\t\tknow this sounds weird but once I had a\n\t\t\tdream that my grandfather was standing at\n\t\t\tthe foot of my bed, but I knew it was\n\t\t\timpossible because he died and he started\n\t\t\tto tell me that --\n\nWhile he's talking, the Ghostbusters jump in the Ectomobile and drive\noff, leaving him and Louis standing at the curb.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tHey!  Wait!  Okay, I'll meet you there.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI thought you were like the fifth Ghostbuster.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI let them handle all the little stuff.  I\n\t\t\tjust come in on the big ones.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>-----------------------------------------------------------------------\n</b>(original version of the above scene - 11/27/88)\n(TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES: These two versions of this scene were put in my\ncopy of the script, so I have included both of them here)\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tActually, they still think you're crazy, but\n\t\t\tI convinced them you're not dangerous.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (determined)\n\t\t\tYeah, well guess again.\n\n<b>EXT.  BELLEVUE HOSPITAL - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)(MOMENTS LATER)\n</b>\nEcto-2 is parked outside and the Ghostbusters are hastily donning their\nstandard uniforms.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI brought everything you asked for and I\n\t\t\tgassed up the car with Super Unleaded.  It\n\t\t\tcost twenty cents more than Regular Unleaded\n\t\t\tbut you get much better performance and in\n\t\t\tan old car like this that'll end up saving\n\t\t\tyou money in the long run.  I put it on my\n\t\t\tcredit card, so you can either reimburse me\n\t\t\tor I can take it out of petty cash --\n\nWhile he's talking, the Ghostbusters jump in the Ecto-2 and drive\noff without him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tHey!  Wait!  Okay, I'll meet you there.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>-----------------------------------------------------------------------\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)(LATER)\n</b>\nECTO-2 pulls to the curb across the street from the museum.  Hundreds of\nspectators are already there gawking at the building as the Ghostbusters\njump out and gape at the sight that greets them.\n\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM THEIR POV - BUILDING\n</b>\nThe building is now totally covered in a shell of psycho-reactive slime.\nCITY WORKMEN and FIREMEN are trying to cut their way in with blowtorches,\njackhammers, power tools and the \"jaws of life,\" but they can't even make\na dent.\n\n<b>GHOSTBUSTERS\n</b>\nThey size up the situation as they don their proton packs.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt looks like a giant Jello mold.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI hate Jello.\n\nThey stride manfully across the street and approach the main entrance to\nthe museum.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Fire Captain)\n\t\t\tOkay, give it a rest, Captain.  We'll take\n\t\t\tit from here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRE CAPTAIN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (skeptical)\n\t\t\tBe my guest.  We been cutting here for three\n\t\t\thours.  What the hell's going on?  You know\n\t\t\tthe Titanic arrived this morning?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWell, better late than never.\n\nThe workmen and firemen put down their tools and fall back as the\nGhostbusters draw their particle throwers.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (monitoring valences)\n\t\t\tFull neutronas, maser assist.\n\nThey adjust their settings and prepare to fire.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThrow 'em!\n\nThey trigger their throwers and spray the front doors of the building\nwith bolts of proton energy, but it has no effect on the hardened slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the firemen)\n\t\t\tOkay, who knows \"Cumbaya?\"\n\nA few of the firemen and workmen tentatively raise their hands.  Venkman\ngrabs them and lines them up at the entrance of the museum.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAll right.  Nice and sweet --\n\t\t\t\t (starts singing)\n\t\t\tCumbaya, milord, cumbaya --\n\nStantz, Spengler, Winston and the firemen sing along, reluctantly holding\nhands and swaying to the music.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tALL\n</b>\t\t\t\t (singing)\n\t\t\tCumbaya, milord, cumbaya, Cumbaya, milord,\n\t\t\tcumbaya, Oh, Lord, cumbaya.\n\nStantz inspects the wall of slime with his infra-goggles and finds that\nthey have only managed to open a hole the size of a dime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tForget it.  The Vienna Boys Choir couldn't\n\t\t\tget through this stuff.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tGood effort.  Now what?  Should we say\n\t\t\tsupportive, nurturing things to it, Ray?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tIt won't work.  There's no way we could\n\t\t\tgenerate enough positive energy to crack\n\t\t\tthat shell.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI can't believe things have gotten so bad\n\t\t\tin this city that there's no way back.\n\t\t\tSure, it's crowded, it's dirty, it's noisy.\n\t\t\tAnd there are too many people who'd just as\n\t\t\tsoon step on your face as look at you.  But\n\t\t\tthere've got to be a few sparks of sweet\n\t\t\thumanity left in this burned-out burg.  We\n\t\t\tjust have to mobilize it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWe need something that everyone can get\n\t\t\tbehind, a symbol --\n\nHis eyes fall on ECTO-2's New York State license plate which features a\nline drawing of the Statue of Liberty.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (he sees it, too)\n\t\t\tSomething that appeals to the best in each\n\t\t\tand every one of us --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tSomething good --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAnd pure --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tAnd decent.\n\n<b>EXT.  THE STREET - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nThere is a commotion among the crowd as the Mayor's limousine arrives\nwith a police escort.  Jack Hardemeyer steps out followed by the Mayor\nhimself and they cross to the museum entrance.\n\nHardemeyer, his ASSISTANT and several police BODYGUARDS confront the\nGhostbusters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tLook, I've had it with you.  Get your stuff\n\t\t\ttogether, get back in that clown car and get\n\t\t\tout of here.  This is a city matter and\n\t\t\teverything's under control.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOh, you think so?  Well, I've got news for\n\t\t\tyou.  You've got Dracula's brother-in-law\n\t\t\tin there and he's got my girlfriend and her\n\t\t\tkid.  Around about midnight tonight, when\n\t\t\tyou're partying uptown, this guy's going to\n\t\t\tcome to life and start doing amateur head\n\t\t\ttransplants.  And that's just round one.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\tAre you telling me there're people trapped\n\t\t\tin there?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to his assistant)\n\t\t\tThis is dynamite.  Call A.P., U.P.I., and\n\t\t\tC.N.N. and get them down here right away.\n\t\t\tWhen the police bring this kid out I want\n\t\t\tthem to hand it right to the mayor and I\n\t\t\twant it all on camera.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tMr. Mayor, if we don't do something by\n\t\t\tmidnight, you're going to go down in history\n\t\t\tas the man who let New York get sucked down\n\t\t\tinto the tenth level of hell.\n\nThe Mayor stops to consider the situation.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Fire Captain)\n\t\t\tCan you get into that museum?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRE CAPTAIN\n</b>\t\t\tIf I had a nuclear warhead, maybe.\n\nThe Mayor turns to Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\tYou know why all these things are happening?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWe tried to tell you last night, but Mr.\n\t\t\tHard-On over here packed us off to the loony\n\t\t\tbin.\n\nHardemeyer flips out.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tThis is preposterous!  You can't seriously\n\t\t\tbelieve all this mumbo-jumbo!  It's the\n\t\t\tTwentieth Century, for crying out loud!\n\t\t\t\t (viciously, to Venkman)\n\t\t\tLook, mister, I don't know what this stuff\n\t\t\tis or how you got it all over the museum,\n\t\t\tbut you better get it off and I mean right\n\t\t\tnow!\n\nHe pounds the wall of slime with his fist, and they all watch in\namazement as his fist goes through the wall and he is sucked bodily\nthrough the slime curtain.  Only his shoes can be seen, embedded in the\nslime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Venkman)\n\t\t\tOkay, just tell me what you need.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  LIBERTY ISLAND (NEW YORK HARBOR) - NIGHT\n</b>\nWith the city skyline in the b.g., the Ghostbusters prepare their\nequipment.  Each of them dons a makeshift backpack consisting of tanks,\nhoses, nozzles and an abundance of gauges, valves and regulators.\nVenkman looks up at the Statue of Liberty looming above them.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tKind of makes you wonder, doesn't it?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tWonder what?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tIf she's naked under that toga.  She's\n\t\t\tFrench, you know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tThere's nothing under that toga but 300 tons\n\t\t\tof iron and steel.\n\nStantz is looking worried.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI hope we have enough stuff to do the job.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOnly one way to find out.\n\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tReady, Teddy?\n\nThey enter the statue.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  STATUE OF LIBERTY - MOMENTS LATER\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters are working from the iron staircase that spirals\nstraight up 100 feet inside the hollow super-structure of the statue.\nSpengler and Winston are busy assembling hundreds of wires connected to\nvarious relays on the interior surface of the statue.  Venkman and Stantz\nare mounting large auditorium loudspeakers near the top of the staircase.\nThey finish the installation, then Stantz dons one of the new backpacks\nand gives the order.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, boys.  Let's frost it.\n\nThey begin hosing the inside of the statue with the psycho-reactive\nslime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nJanine watches as Louis, wearing a Ghostbuster uniform, slings a heavy\nproton pack onto his back.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tI'm not sure this is such a good idea?  Do\n\t\t\tthey know you're doing this?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh, yeah, sure -- no.  But there's really\n\t\t\tnot much to do here and they might need\n\t\t\tsome back-up at the museum.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tYou're very brave, Louis.  Good luck.\n\nShe kisses Louis and he gets extremely self-conscious.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tUh -- oh -- well, I better hurry.\n\nHe rushes out.\n\n<b>EXT  STREET OUTSIDE FIREHOUSE - NIGHT (LITTLE LATER)\n</b>\nLouis stands on the street corner waiting for a bus.  Finally, a bus\npulls up, Louis climbs aboard and finds Slimer behind the wheel.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  STATUE OF LIBERTY - OBSERVATION DECK - MOMENTS LATER\n</b>\nVenkman, Stantz, Spengler and Winston are standing in the observation\nwindows in the crown of the statue.  It looks like they're on the bridge\nof an ocean liner, then the CAMERA PULLS BACK to reveal the head of the\nstatue.\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe plugs the main cable lead into a transformer.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt's all yours, Pete.\n\t\t\t\t (checks his watch)\n\t\t\tThere's not much time left.\n\nVenkman plugs the speaker cable into a Walkman and gives a downbeat.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (giving the downbeat)\n\t\t\tOkay, one, two, three, four --\n\nHe hits \"Play\" on the Walkman and \"HIGHER AND HIGHER\" BOOMS from the huge\nSPEAKERS, amplified by the statue's vast hollow interior.\n\n<b>INT.  OBSERVATION DECK - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe head of the statue lurches suddenly, but the Ghostbusters cling to\nthe rail and manage to keep their feet.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tShe's moving!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tI've lived in New York all my life and I\n\t\t\tnever visited the Statue of Liberty.  Now I\n\t\t\tfinally get here and we're taking her out\n\t\t\tfor a walk.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reading the Giga-meter)\n\t\t\tWe've got full power.\n\nStantz picks up a Nintendo control paddle from a home video game and\nstarts pushing the buttons.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (into a microphone)\n\t\t\tOkay, Libby.  Let's get it in gear.\n\nThey feel a strong vibration and the statue starts to move.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  SOUTH STREET SEAPORT - NIGHT\n</b>\nNew Years Eve celebrants line the riverfront, pointing and gawking at an\nincredible sight.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST RIVER - THEIR POV - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe statue is moving up the river almost completely submerged, only her\nhead from the nose up is visible above the surface.\n\n<b>INT.  OBSERVATION DECK - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nWinston looks out apprehensively.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tHow deep does it get?  That water's cold and\n\t\t\tI can't swim.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tIt's okay.  I have my Senior Lifesaving card.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWith a water temperature of forty degrees\n\t\t\twe'd survive approximately fifteen minutes.\n\nStantz studies a maritime navigational chart.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI'll keep to the middle of the channel.\n\t\t\tWe're okay to 59th Street, then we'll go\n\t\t\tashore and take First Avenue to 79th.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAre you kidding?  We'll hit all that bridge\n\t\t\ttraffic at 59th.  I'm going to take 72nd\n\t\t\tstraight up to Fifth.  Trust me, I used to\n\t\t\tdrive a cab.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  RIVERFRONT - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nSpectators cheer wildly, inspired by the sight of the Statue.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM RESTORATION STUDIO - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nJanosz is sitting next to Dana, still wheedling her with promises and\nself-serving logic.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tTime is running out, Dana.  Soon it will be\n\t\t\tmidnight and the city will be mine -- and\n\t\t\tVigo's.  Well, mainly Vigo's.  But we have\n\t\t\ta spectacular opportunity to make the best\n\t\t\tof our relationship.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tWe don't have a relationship.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tI know.  Marry me, Dana, and together we\n\t\t\twill raise Vigo as our son.  There are many\n\t\t\tperks that come with being the mother of a\n\t\t\tliving god.  I'm sure he will supply for us\n\t\t\ta magnificent apartment.  And perhaps a car\n\t\t\tand free parking.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI hate and despise you and everything you\n\t\t\tstand for with all my heart and soul.  I\n\t\t\tcould never forgive what you've done to me\n\t\t\tand my child.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tMany marriages begin with a certain amount\n\t\t\tof distance, but after a while I believe we\n\t\t\tcould learn to love each other.  Think about\n\t\t\tit.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI'd rather not.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  TIMES SQUARE - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nPeople are jammed together shoulder to shoulder filling Times Square,\nwatching the big Seiko clock count down the last ten minutes to midnight.\nSuddenly, they look down Broadway and see a magnificent sight.\n\n<b>EXT.  BROADWAY - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe Statue of Liberty is walking up Broadway approaching 42nd Street,\nwith \"Higher and Higher\" BOOMING from the SPEAKERS inside.  A great cheer\ngoes up, and the crowd goes wild with joy, dancing and singing along with\nthe MUSIC.\n\n<b>INT.  STATUE OF LIBERTY OBSERVATION DECK - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS)\n</b>\nSpengler reads the Giga-meter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tIt's working.  The positive GeV's are\n\t\t\tclimbing.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (patting the Statue)\n\t\t\tThey love you, Lib.  Keep it up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  FIFTH AVENUE - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nThe avenue has been closed to traffic and barricades placed, blocking all\nthe side streets.  A squadron of police motorcycles comes speeding around\nthe corner at 72nd Street and proceeds up Fifth Avenue in the direction\nof the museum.  Then MUSIC is heard BOOMING in the distance, the ground\nshakes and the Statue of Liberty comes walking around the corner onto\nFifth Avenue followed by a wildly cheering throng.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  OBSERVATION DECK - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters can see the museum ahead.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo far so good.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (worried)\n\t\t\tI'm worried.  The vibrations could shake her\n\t\t\tto pieces.  We should have padded her feet.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI don't think they make Nikes in her size.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWe're almost there, Lib.\n\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tStep on it.\n\n<b>EXT.  STREET - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe Statue's huge foot comes down and squashes a car.\n\n<b>INT.  OBSERVATION DECK - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters look down at the flattened car.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouts out the window)\n\t\t\tMy Fault!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouts)\n\t\t\tShe's new in town.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - RESTORATION STUDIO - SAME TIME\n</b>\nJanosz is painting the last of the mystical symbols on the baby's chest.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  TIMES SQUARE - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nThe people still in the square start counting off the last ten seconds to\nmidnight and the New Year.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCROWD\n</b>\t\t\t\t (chanting)\n\t\t\tTen .. nine ... eight ... seven ...\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - PAINTING - NIGHT\n</b>\nA strange light spreads over the painting.  As the light moves onto his\nface, Vigo spreads his arms wide and his upper body starts to emerge from\nthe canvas.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tSoon my life begins.  Then woe to the weak,\n\t\t\tall power to me, the world is mine.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - JANOSZ - NIGHT\n</b>\nThe baby's body begins to glow as Vigo reaches out for it.  Then suddenly\na dark shadow falls across the skylight.  Janosz looks up.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - JANOSZ'S POV - SKYLIGHT - NIGHT\n</b>\nThe Statue of Liberty is looming over the skylight looking down on Janosz\nwith an expression of righteous anger on it's face.\n\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nKneeling beside the museum, the statue draws back it's mighty right arm\nand smashes the skylight with its torch.\n\n<b>INT.  RESTORATION STUDIO - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nJanosz retreats from the shower of broken glass as the Ghostbusters come\nsliding down ropes into the studio and confront Janosz with their new\nweapons.  Quick as a flash, Dana seizes the moment, dashes across the\nstudio and snatches the baby from Vigo's outstretched arms.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Janosz)\n\t\t\tHappy New Year.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - VIGO PAINTING - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nVigo bellows in rage.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - STUDIO - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nJanosz steps in front of the painting.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tHi there.  Feel free to try something stupid.\n\nJanosz sneers, trusting the invincibility of Vigo.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou pitiful, miserable creatures!  You dare\n\t\t\tto challenge the power of darkness?  Don't\n\t\t\tyou realize what you are dealing with?  He's\n\t\t\tVigo!  You are like the buzzing of flies to\n\t\t\thim.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (sighs)\n\t\t\tOh, Johnny.  Did you back the wrong horse.\n\nWith that, the Ghostbusters fire their slime-blowers and hose Janosz from\nhead to toe, blowing him into the corner.  Then they turn to Vigo.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nHe is now almost completely out of the painting, but still held from the\nknees down.  He spits and rages at the Ghostbusters, trying to unleash\nhis magic powers.\n\n<b>THE GHOSTBUSTERS\n</b>\nThey stand fast, secure in the knowledge that Vigo's power has been\nneutralized by the good will of the people.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tVigi, Vigi, Vigi -- you have been a bad\n\t\t\tlittle monkey.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThe whole city's together on this one.  We\n\t\t\ttook a vote.  Everybody's down on you, you\n\t\t\tknow.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (arming his slime-blower)\n\t\t\tSay goodnight now.\n\nSuddenly Vigo grabs Stantz by the neck and holds him up as a shield.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tDon't shoot!  You'll hit Ray!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (strangling)\n\t\t\tDo it!  Just do it!\n\nWinston fires and hoses both Vigo and Ray.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nHe bellows and drops Ray, then falls back into the painting.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - PAINTING - NIGHT\n</b>\nThe paint turns liquid, melts off the canvas and runs onto the floor\nrevealing another painting underneath it.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - GHOSTBUSTERS - NIGHT (AFTER BATTLE)\n</b>\nVenkman, Spengler and Winston rush over to Ray and kneel beside him.  He\nis completely covered with slime and motionless.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (examining him)\n\t\t\tHe's breathing.\n\nWinston wipes the slime off Ray's face and Ray opens his eyes.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tRay -- Ray -- How do you feel, man?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (smiles lovingly)\n\t\t\tGroovy.  I've never felt better in my life.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOh, no.  We've got to live with this?\n\nThey pull him to his feet.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI love you guys.  You're the best friends\n\t\t\tI've ever had.\n\nHe hugs them each in turn, leaving them slimed as well.  Venkman recoils\nin disgust.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHey, I just had this suit cleaned.\n\t\t\t\t (indicating Janosz)\n\t\t\tTake care of the wiggler, will you.\n\nVenkman crosses to Dana who is snuggling the baby.  She hugs Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat is this -- a love in?\n\t\t\t\t (notes the symbols painted\n\t\t\t\t on the baby's body)\n\t\t\tHey, sailor.  I think the tattoos are a\n\t\t\tlittle much, don't you?\n\nHe picks up the baby.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Venkman)\n\t\t\tI think he likes you.  I think I do too.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tFinally came to your senses, huh?\n\nThey hug and kiss.\n\n<b>SPENGLER, WINSTON AND STANTZ\n</b>\nThey help Janosz to his feet.  He's dazed but unhurt.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (restored to normalcy)\n\t\t\tWhat happened?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (calmly)\n\t\t\tSir, you had a violent, prolonged,\n\t\t\ttransformative psychic episode.  But it's\n\t\t\tover now.  Want a coffee?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (extremely nice)\n\t\t\tThat's very kind of you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tHe's fine, Ray.  Physically intact,\n\t\t\tpsychomagnetherically neutral.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tIs that good?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tIt's where you want to be.\n\nAs they exit they stop to examine the painting that was concealed by\nVigo's self-portrait.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tLate Renaissance, I think.  Caravaggio or\n\t\t\tBrunelleschi.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (staring at it)\n\t\t\tThere's something very familiar about this\n\t\t\tpainting.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - NEW PAINTING - NIGHT\n</b>\nIt's a beautiful painting in the high-Renaissance style depicting four\narchangels hovering protectively over a cherubic baby.  One holds a harp,\none, an olive branch, the third, a book, and the last, a sword.  Most\nremarkably, their faces bear an uncanny resemblance to Venkman, Stantz,\nSpengler and Winston.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  STREET - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nA city bus pulls up near the museum and Louis steps off.  He waves his\nthanks to Slimer who is behind the wheel.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Slimer)\n\t\t\tOkay, so Monday night we'll get something\n\t\t\tto eat and maybe go bowling?  Can you bowl\n\t\t\twith those little arms?\n\nSLIMER GRUNTS and SLOBBERS a reply, flexing his scrawny biceps.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, I have to go save Dana.  I'll see you\n\t\t\tlater.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. MUSEUM - NIGHT (LITTLE LATER)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters are greeted by wild cheering and applause as they come\nout the main entrance with Dana and the baby.  Everybody starts singing\n\"Auld Lang Syne.\"  Louis picks his way through the celebrating crowd and\nfinds the Ghostbusters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tAm I too late?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo, you're right on time.\n\nStantz pops the cork on a bottle of champagne and hands it to him.\n\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM ENTRANCE - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nHardemeyer staggers out of the museum covered in slime.  He looks at the\ncelebrating crowd and his eyes fill with tears.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (weepy)\n\t\t\tHappy New Year, everybody!\n\nHe joins in on \"Auld Lang Syne.\"\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  CENTRAL PARK - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nThe Statue of Liberty is sprawled inert on her back in the park behind\nthe museum, her toga up over her knees.  The Mayor looks nearly suicidal.\nThe Ghostbusters stand beside him commiserating.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tShe's all right.  She's just sleeping it off.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (stricken)\n\t\t\tWe just had it restored.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThis probably isn't a good time to bring\n\t\t\tthis up, but the last time we did a job for\n\t\t\tthe city you stiffed us.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (handing the Mayor an\n\t\t\t\t invoice)\n\t\t\tThis is a bill for tonight's job.\n\nThe Mayor looks at it and gasps at the amount.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\tWhat!  This is way too much.\n\t\t\t\t (hands the bill back to\n\t\t\t\t Venkman)\n\t\t\tWe won't pay.\n\nVenkman looks at the Statue.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tI think she looks pretty good here, don't\n\t\t\tyou?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, and a lot easier to get to than that island.\n\nRealizing he has no alternative, the Mayor sighs and takes the bill back.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\tAll right, all right.  If you can wait until\n\t\tMonday I'll issue you a check.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\tSorry.  No checks.  Company policy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tCUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. LIBERTY ISLAND - DAY (WEEKS LATER)\n</b>\nThe sun is shining brightly and Liberty is back on her pedestal where she\nbelongs.  The Mayor and a host of officials are commemorating her return.\nThe Ghostbusters, Dana, Janine and Louis are there as honored guests.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t(looking up at the statue)\n\t\tPretty impressive, huh?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t(musing)\n\t\tIt's probably the first thing my\n\t\tgrandparents saw when they came to this\n\t\tcountry.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\tFrom where -- Neptune?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\tThey came from Ostrov in Eastern Poland.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\tOstrov?  I've been there.  Good party town.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t(in a similarly reflective\n\t\t\tmood)\n\t\tMy great-grandparents were Swiss.  I still\n\t\thave the pictures they took of the statue\n\t\tfrom the boat when they arrived.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\tOh, right, you told me that.  They came to\n\t\tAmerica seeking other kinds of cheese, as I\n\t\trecall.  How about you, Winston?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tMy people weren't taking any pictures from\n\t\t\tthose slave ships, man.  And there wasn't\n\t\t\tany Statue in Charleston Harbor to welcome\n\t\t\tthem, either.  What are you, Dana?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tMiss Blue Blood?  Her family's been here\n\t\t\tsince the year 12.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThat's not true.  It was 1620.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSame difference.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWhat's your story, Pete?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tMe?  I'm a little of everything.  Some Irish,\n\t\t\tsome German, some French, Dutch -- the women\n\t\t\tin my family slept around.  And that's what\n\t\t\tmade this country great.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThat's a terrible thing to say.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo what?  It's a free country.\n\t\t\t\t (looking up at the Statue)\n\t\t\tThanks, Lib.\n\nThey all look up at the Statue.\n\n<b>EXT.  STATUE OF LIBERTY - HEAD OF STATUE - DAY\n</b>\nSlimer flies out one of the observation windows, THEME MUSIC KICKS IN and\nthe CAMERA PULLS UP and AWAY FROM the island TO a HIGH SHOT of the\nStatue, lower Manhattan and the shining sea beyond.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tFADE OUT.\n</b>\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tTHE END\n</b>\n\nNow, answer the question based on the story asconcisely as you can, using a single phrase if possible. Do not provide any explanation.\n\nQuestion: What job does the mayor want to have?\n\nAnswer:"}
{"question_id": 134, "category": "longbench_narrativeqa", "reference": ["The Hans"], "prompt": "You are given a story, which can be either a novel or a movie script, and a question. Answer the question asconcisely as you can, using a single phrase if possible. Do not provide any explanation.\n\nStory: Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nARMAGEDDON--2419 A.D.\n\n_By Philip Francis Nowlan_\n\n\n    _Here, once more, is a real scientifiction story plus. It is a story\n    which will make the heart of many readers leap with joy._\n\n    _We have rarely printed a story in this magazine that for scientific\n    interest, as well as suspense, could hold its own with this\n    particular story. We prophesy that this story will become more\n    valuable as the years go by. It certainly holds a number of\n    interesting prophecies, of which no doubt, many will come true. For\n    wealth of science, it will be hard to beat for some time to come. It\n    is one of those rare stories that will bear reading and re-reading\n    many times._\n\n    _This story has impressed us so favorably, that we hope the author\n    may be induced to write a sequel to it soon._\n\n\n\n\nForeword\n\n\nElsewhere I have set down, for whatever interest they have in this, the\n25th Century, my personal recollections of the 20th Century.\n\nNow it occurs to me that my memoirs of the 25th Century may have an\nequal interest 500 years from now--particularly in view of that unique\nperspective from which I have seen the 25th Century, entering it as I\ndid, in one leap across a gap of 492 years.\n\nThis statement requires elucidation. There are still many in the world\nwho are not familiar with my unique experience. Five centuries from now\nthere may be many more, especially if civilization is fated to endure\nany worse convulsions than those which have occurred between 1975 A.D.\nand the present time.\n\nI should state therefore, that I, Anthony Rogers, am, so far as I know,\nthe only man alive whose normal span of eighty-one years of life has\nbeen spread over a period of 573 years. To be precise, I lived the first\ntwenty-nine years of my life between 1898 and 1927; the other fifty-two\nsince 2419. The gap between these two, a period of nearly five hundred\nyears, I spent in a state of suspended animation, free from the ravages\nof katabolic processes, and without any apparent effect on my physical\nor mental faculties.\n\nWhen I began my long sleep, man had just begun his real conquest of the\nair in a sudden series of transoceanic flights in airplanes driven by\ninternal combustion motors. He had barely begun to speculate on the\npossibilities of harnessing sub-atomic forces, and had made no further\npractical penetration into the field of ethereal pulsations than the\nprimitive radio and television of that day. The United States of America\nwas the most powerful nation in the world, its political, financial,\nindustrial and scientific influence being supreme; and in the arts also\nit was rapidly climbing into leadership.\n\nI awoke to find the America I knew a total wreck--to find Americans a\nhunted race in their own land, hiding in the dense forests that covered\nthe shattered and leveled ruins of their once magnificent cities,\ndesperately preserving, and struggling to develop in their secret\nretreats, the remnants of their culture and science--and the undying\nflame of their sturdy independence.\n\nWorld domination was in the hands of Mongolians and the center of world\npower lay in inland China, with Americans one of the few races of\nmankind unsubdued--and it must be admitted in fairness to the truth, not\nworth the trouble of subduing in the eyes of the Han Airlords who ruled\nNorth America as titular tributaries of the Most Magnificent.\n\nFor they needed not the forests in which the Americans lived, nor the\nresources of the vast territories these forests covered. With the\nperfection to which they had reduced the synthetic production of\nnecessities and luxuries, their remarkable development of scientific\nprocesses and mechanical accomplishment of work, they had no economic\nneed for the forests, and no economic desire for the enslaved labor of\nan unruly race.\n\nThey had all they needed for their magnificently luxurious and degraded\nscheme of civilization, within the walls of the fifteen cities of\nsparkling glass they had flung skyward on the sites of ancient American\ncenters, into the bowels of the earth underneath them, and with\nrelatively small surrounding areas of agriculture.\n\nComplete domination of the air rendered communication between these\ncenters a matter of ease and safety. Occasional destructive raids on the\nwaste lands were considered all that was necessary to keep the \"wild\"\nAmericans on the run within the shelter of their forests, and prevent\ntheir becoming a menace to the Han civilization.\n\nBut nearly three hundred years of easily maintained security, the last\ncentury of which had been nearly sterile in scientific, social and\neconomic progress, had softened and devitalized the Hans.\n\nIt had likewise developed, beneath the protecting foliage of the forest,\nthe growth of a vigorous new American civilization, remarkable in the\nmobility and flexibility of its organization, in its conquest of almost\ninsuperable obstacles, in the development and guarding of its industrial\nand scientific resources, all in anticipation of that \"Day of Hope\" to\nwhich it had been looking forward for generations, when it would be\nstrong enough to burst from the green chrysalis of the forests, soar\ninto the upper air lanes and destroy the yellow incubus.\n\nAt the time I awoke, the \"Day of Hope\" was almost at hand. I shall not\nattempt to set forth a detailed history of the Second War of\nIndependence, for that has been recorded already by better historians\nthan I am. Instead I shall confine myself largely to the part I was\nfortunate enough to play in this struggle and in the events leading up\nto it.\n\n[Illustration: Seen upon the ultroscope viewplate, the battle looked as\nthough it were being fought in daylight, perhaps on a cloudy day, while\nthe explosions of the rockets appeared as flashes of extra brilliance.]\n\nIt all resulted from my interest in radioactive gases. During the latter\npart of 1927 my company, the American Radioactive Gas Corporation, had\nbeen keeping me busy investigating reports of unusual phenomena observed\nin certain abandoned coal mines near the Wyoming Valley, in\nPennsylvania.\n\nWith two assistants and a complete equipment of scientific instruments,\nI began the exploration of a deserted working in a mountainous district,\nwhere several weeks before, a number of mining engineers had reported\ntraces of carnotite[1] and what they believed to be radioactive gases.\nTheir report was not without foundation, it was apparent from the\noutset, for in our examination of the upper levels of the mine, our\ninstruments indicated a vigorous radioactivity.\n\n    [1] A hydrovanadate of uranium, and other metals; used as a source\n    of radium compounds.\n\nOn the morning of December 15th, we descended to one of the lowest\nlevels. To our surprise, we found no water there. Obviously it had\ndrained off through some break in the strata. We noticed too that the\nrock in the side walls of the shaft was soft, evidently due to the\nradioactivity, and pieces crumbled under foot rather easily. We made our\nway cautiously down the shaft, when suddenly the rotted timbers above us\ngave way.\n\nI jumped ahead, barely escaping the avalanche of coal and soft rock, but\nmy companions, who were several paces behind me, were buried under it,\nand undoubtedly met instant death.\n\nI was trapped. Return was impossible. With my electric torch I explored\nthe shaft to its end, but could find no other way out. The air became\nincreasingly difficult to breathe, probably from the rapid accumulation\nof the radioactive gas. In a little while my senses reeled and I lost\nconsciousness.\n\nWhen I awoke, there was a cool and refreshing circulation of air in the\nshaft. I had no thought that I had been unconscious more than a few\nhours, although it seems that the radioactive gas had kept me in a state\nof suspended animation for something like 500 years. My awakening, I\nfigured out later, had been due to some shifting of the strata which\nreopened the shaft and cleared the atmosphere in the working. This must\nhave been the case, for I was able to struggle back up the shaft over a\npile of debris, and stagger up the long incline to the mouth of the\nmine, where an entirely different world, overgrown with a vast forest\nand no visible sign of human habitation, met my eyes.\n\nI shall pass over the days of mental agony that followed in my attempt\nto grasp the meaning of it all. There were times when I felt that I was\non the verge of insanity. I roamed the unfamiliar forest like a lost\nsoul. Had it not been for the necessity of improvising traps and crude\nclubs with which to slay my food, I believe I should have gone mad.\n\nSuffice it to say, however, that I survived this psychic crisis. I shall\nbegin my narrative proper with my first contact with Americans of the\nyear 2419 A.D.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nFloating Men\n\n\nMy first glimpse of a human being of the 25th Century was obtained\nthrough a portion of woodland where the trees were thinly scattered,\nwith a dense forest beyond.\n\nI had been wandering along aimlessly, and hopelessly, musing over my\nstrange fate, when I noticed a figure that cautiously backed out of the\ndense growth across the glade. I was about to call out joyfully, but\nthere was something furtive about the figure that prevented me. The\nboy's attention (for it seemed to be a lad of fifteen or sixteen) was\ncentered tensely on the heavy growth of trees from which he had just\nemerged.\n\nHe was clad in rather tight-fitting garments entirely of green, and wore\na helmet-like cap of the same color. High around his waist he wore a\nbroad, thick belt, which bulked up in the back across the shoulders,\ninto something of the proportions of a knapsack.\n\nAs I was taking in these details, there came a vivid flash and heavy\ndetonation, like that of a hand grenade, not far to the left of him. He\nthrew up an arm and staggered a bit in a queer, gliding way; then he\nrecovered himself and slipped cautiously away from the place of the\nexplosion, crouching slightly, and still facing the denser part of the\nforest. Every few steps he would raise his arm, and point into the\nforest with something he held in his hand. Wherever he pointed there was\na terrific explosion, deeper in among the trees. It came to me then that\nhe was shooting with some form of pistol, though there was neither flash\nnor detonation from the muzzle of the weapon itself.\n\nAfter firing several times, he seemed to come to a sudden resolution,\nand turning in my general direction, leaped--to my amazement sailing\nthrough the air between the sparsely scattered trees in such a jump as I\nhad never in my life seen before. That leap must have carried him a full\nfifty feet, although at the height of his arc, he was not more than ten\nor twelve feet from the ground.\n\nWhen he alighted, his foot caught in a projecting root, and he sprawled\ngently forward. I say \"gently\" for he did not crash down as I expected\nhim to do. The only thing I could compare it with was a slow-motion\ncinema, although I had never seen one in which horizontal motions were\nregistered at normal speed and only the vertical movements were slowed\ndown.\n\nDue to my surprise, I suppose my brain did not function with its normal\nquickness, for I gazed at the prone figure for several seconds before I\nsaw the blood that oozed out from under the tight green cap. Regaining\nmy power of action, I dragged him out of sight back of the big tree. For\na few moments I busied myself in an attempt to staunch the flow of\nblood. The wound was not a deep one. My companion was more dazed than\nhurt. But what of the pursuers?\n\nI took the weapon from his grasp and examined it hurriedly. It was not\nunlike the automatic pistol to which I was accustomed, except that it\napparently fired with a button instead of a trigger. I inserted several\nfresh rounds of ammunition into its magazine from my companion's belt,\nas rapidly as I could, for I soon heard, near us, the suppressed\nconversation of his pursuers.\n\nThere followed a series of explosions round about us, but none very\nclose. They evidently had not spotted our hiding place, and were firing\nat random.\n\nI waited tensely, balancing the gun in my hand, to accustom myself to\nits weight and probable throw.\n\nThen I saw a movement in the green foliage of a tree not far away, and\nthe head and face of a man appeared. Like my companion, he was clad\nentirely in green, which made his figure difficult to distinguish. But\nhis face could be seen clearly. It was an evil face, and had murder in\nit.\n\nThat decided me. I raised the gun and fired. My aim was bad, for there\nwas no kick in the gun, as I had expected, and I hit the trunk of the\ntree several feet below him. It blew him from his perch like a crumpled\nbit of paper, and he _floated_ down to the ground, like some limp, dead\nthing, gently lowered by an invisible hand. The tree, its trunk blown\napart by the explosion, crashed down.\n\nThere followed another series of explosions around us. These guns we\nwere using made no sound in the firing, and my opponents were evidently\nas much at sea as to my position as I was to theirs. So I made no\nattempt to reply to their fire, contenting myself with keeping a sharp\nlookout in their general direction. And patience had its reward.\n\nVery soon I saw a cautious movement in the top of another tree. Exposing\nmyself as little as possible, I aimed carefully at the tree trunk and\nfired again. A shriek followed the explosion. I heard the tree crash\ndown; then a groan.\n\nThere was silence for a while. Then I heard a faint sound of boughs\nswishing. I shot three times in its direction, pressing the button as\nrapidly as I could. Branches crashed down where my shells had exploded,\nbut there was no body.\n\nThen I saw one of them. He was starting one of those amazing leaps from\nthe bough of one tree to another, about forty feet away.\n\nI threw up my gun impulsively and fired. By now I had gotten the feel of\nthe weapon, and my aim was good. I hit him. The \"bullet\" must have\npenetrated his body and exploded. For one moment I saw him flying\nthrough the air. Then the explosion, and he had vanished. He never\nfinished his leap. It was annihilation.\n\nHow many more of them there were I don't know. But this must have been\ntoo much for them. They used a final round of shells on us, all of which\nexploded harmlessly, and shortly after I heard them swishing and\ncrashing away from us through the tree tops. Not one of them descended\nto earth.\n\nNow I had time to give some attention to my companion. She was, I found,\na girl, and not a boy. Despite her bulky appearance, due to the peculiar\nbelt strapped around her body high up under the arms, she was very\nslender, and very pretty.\n\nThere was a stream not far away, from which I brought water and bathed\nher face and wound.\n\nApparently the mystery of these long leaps, the monkey-like ability to\njump from bough to bough, and of the bodies that floated gently down\ninstead of falling, lay in the belt. The thing was some sort of\nanti-gravity belt that almost balanced the weight of the wearer, thereby\ntremendously multiplying the propulsive power of the leg muscles, and\nthe lifting power of the arms.\n\nWhen the girl came to, she regarded me as curiously as I did her, and\npromptly began to quiz me. Her accent and intonation puzzled me a lot,\nbut nevertheless we were able to understand each other fairly well,\nexcept for certain words and phrases. I explained what had happened\nwhile she lay unconscious, and she thanked me simply for saving her\nlife.\n\n\"You are a strange exchange,\" she said, eying my clothing quizzically.\nEvidently she found it mirth provoking by contrast with her own neatly\nefficient garb. \"Don't you understand what I mean by 'exchange?' I mean\nah--let me see--a stranger, somebody from some other gang. What gang do\nyou belong to?\" (She pronounced it \"gan,\" with only a suspicion of a\nnasal sound.)\n\nI laughed. \"I'm not a gangster,\" I said. But she evidently did not\nunderstand this word. \"I don't belong to any gang,\" I explained, \"and\nnever did. Does everybody belong to a gang nowadays?\"\n\n\"Naturally,\" she said, frowning. \"If you don't belong to a gang, where\nand how do you live? Why have you not found and joined a gang? How do\nyou eat? Where do you get your clothing?\"\n\n\"I've been eating wild game for the past two weeks,\" I explained, \"and\nthis clothing I--er--ah--.\" I paused, wondering how I could explain that\nit must be many hundred years old.\n\nIn the end I saw I would have to tell my story as well as I could,\npiecing it together with my assumptions as to what had happened. She\nlistened patiently; incredulously at first, but with more confidence as\nI went on. When I had finished, she sat thinking for a long time.\n\n\"That's hard to believe,\" she said, \"but I believe it.\" She looked me\nover with frank interest.\n\n\"Were you married when you slipped into unconsciousness down in that\nmine?\" she asked me suddenly. I assured her I had never married. \"Well,\nthat simplifies matters,\" she continued. \"You see, if you were\ntechnically classed as a family man, I could take you back only as an\ninvited exchange and I, being unmarried, and no relation of yours,\ncouldn't do the inviting.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nThe Forest Gangs\n\n\nShe gave me a brief outline of the very peculiar social and economic\nsystem under which her people lived. At least it seemed very peculiar\nfrom my 20th Century viewpoint.\n\nI learned with amazement that exactly 492 years had passed over my head\nas I lay unconscious in the mine.\n\nWilma, for that was her name, did not profess to be a historian, and so\ncould give me only a sketchy outline of the wars that had been fought,\nand the manner in which such radical changes had come about. It seemed\nthat another war had followed the First World War, in which nearly all\nthe European nations had banded together to break the financial and\nindustrial power of America. They succeeded in their purpose, though\nthey were beaten, for the war was a terrific one, and left America, like\nthemselves, gasping, bleeding and disorganized, with only the hollow\nshell of a victory.\n\nThis opportunity had been seized by the Russian Soviets, who had made a\ncoalition with the Chinese, to sweep over all Europe and reduce it to a\nstate of chaos.\n\nAmerica, industrially geared to world production and the world trade,\ncollapsed economically, and there ensued a long period of stagnation and\ndesperate attempts at economic reconstruction. But it was impossible to\nstave off war with the Mongolians, who by now had subjugated the\nRussians, and were aiming at a world empire.\n\nIn about 2109, it seems, the conflict was finally precipitated. The\nMongolians, with overwhelming fleets of great airships, and a science\nthat far outstripped that of crippled America, swept in over the Pacific\nand Atlantic Coasts, and down from Canada, annihilating American\naircraft, armies and cities with their terrific _disintegrator_ rays.\nThese rays were projected from a machine not unlike a searchlight in\nappearance, the reflector of which, however, was not material substance,\nbut a complicated balance of interacting electronic forces. This\nresulted in a terribly destructive beam. Under its influence, material\nsubstance melted into \"nothingness\"; i. e., into electronic vibrations.\nIt destroyed all then known substances, from air to the most dense\nmetals and stone.\n\nThey settled down to the establishment of what became known as the Han\ndynasty in America, as a sort of province in their World Empire.\n\nThose were terrible days for the Americans. They were hunted like wild\nbeasts. Only those survived who finally found refuge in mountains,\ncanyons and forests. Government was at an end among them. Anarchy\nprevailed for several generations. Most would have been eager to submit\nto the Hans, even if it meant slavery. But the Hans did not want them,\nfor they themselves had marvelous machinery and scientific process by\nwhich all difficult labor was accomplished.\n\nUltimately they stopped their active search for, and annihilation of,\nthe widely scattered groups of now savage Americans. So long as they\nremained hidden in their forests, and did not venture near the great\ncities the Hans had built, little attention was paid to them.\n\nThen began the building of the new American civilization. Families and\nindividuals gathered together in clans or \"gangs\" for mutual protection.\nFor nearly a century they lived a nomadic and primitive life, moving\nfrom place to place, in desperate fear of the casual and occasional Han\nair raids, and the terrible disintegrator ray. As the frequency of these\nraids decreased, they began to stay permanently in given localities,\norganizing upon lines which in many respects were similar to those of\nthe military households of the Norman feudal barons, except that instead\nof gathering together in castles, their defense tactics necessitated a\ncertain scattering of living quarters for families and individuals. They\nlived virtually in the open air, in the forests, in green tents,\nresorting to camouflage tactics that would conceal their presence from\nair observers. They dug underground factories and laboratories, that\nthey might better be shielded from the electrical detectors of the\nHans. They tapped the radio communication lines of the Hans, with crude\ninstruments at first; better ones later on. They bent every effort\ntoward the redevelopment of science. For many generations they labored\nas unseen, unknown scholars of the Hans, picking up their knowledge\npiecemeal, as fast as they were able to.\n\nDuring the earlier part of this period, there were many deadly wars\nfought between the various gangs, and occasional courageous but\nchildishly futile attacks upon the Hans, followed by terribly punitive\nraids.\n\nBut as knowledge progressed, the sense of American brotherhood\nredeveloped. Reciprocal arrangements were made among the gangs over\nconstantly increasing areas. Trade developed to a certain extent, as\nbetween one gang and another. But the interchange of knowledge became\nmore important than that of goods, as skill in the handling of synthetic\nprocesses developed.\n\nWithin the gang, an economy was developed that was a compromise between\nindividual liberty and a military socialism. The right of private\nproperty was limited practically to personal possessions, but private\nprivileges were many, and sacredly regarded. Stimulation to achievement\nlay chiefly in the winning of various kinds of leadership and\nprerogatives, and only in a very limited degree in the hope of owning\nanything that might be classified as \"wealth,\" and nothing that might be\nclassified as \"resources.\" Resources of every description, for military\nsafety and efficiency, belonged as a matter of public interest to the\ncommunity as a whole.\n\nIn the meantime, through these many generations, the Hans had developed\na luxury economy, and with it the perfection of gilded vice and\ndegradation. The Americans were regarded as \"wild men of the woods.\" And\nsince they neither needed nor wanted the woods or the wild men, they\ntreated them as beasts, and were conscious of no human brotherhood with\nthem. As time went on, and synthetic processes of producing foods and\nmaterials were further developed, less and less ground was needed by the\nHans for the purposes of agriculture, and finally, even the working of\nmines was abandoned when it became cheaper to build up metal from\nelectronic vibrations than to dig them out of the ground.\n\nThe Han race, devitalized by its vices and luxuries, with machinery and\nscientific processes to satisfy its every want, with virtually no\nnecessity of labor, began to assume a defensive attitude toward the\nAmericans.\n\nAnd quite naturally, the Americans regarded the Hans with a deep, grim\nhatred. Conscious of individual superiority as men, knowing that\nlatterly they were outstripping the Hans in science and civilization,\nthey longed desperately for the day when they should be powerful enough\nto rise and annihilate the Yellow Blight that lay over the continent.\n\nAt the time of my awakening, the gangs were rather loosely organized,\nbut were considering the establishment of a special military force,\nwhose special business it would be to harry the Hans and bring down\ntheir air ships whenever possible without causing general alarm among\nthe Mongolians. This force was destined to become the nucleus of the\nnational force, when the Day of Retribution arrived. But that, however,\ndid not happen for ten years, and is another story.\n\n[Illustration: On the left of the illustration is a Han girl, and on the\nright is an American girl, who, like all of her race, is equipped with\nan inertron belt and a rocket gun.]\n\nWilma told me she was a member of the Wyoming Gang, which claimed the\nentire Wyoming Valley as its territory, under the leadership of Boss\nHart. Her mother and father were dead, and she was unmarried, so she was\nnot a \"family member.\" She lived in a little group of tents known as\nCamp 17, under a woman Camp Boss, with seven other girls.\n\nHer duties alternated between military or police scouting and factory\nwork. For the two-week period which would end the next day, she had been\non \"air patrol.\" This did not mean, as I first imagined, that she was\nflying, but rather that she was on the lookout for Han ships over this\noutlying section of the Wyoming territory, and had spent most of her\ntime perched in the tree tops scanning the skies. Had she seen one she\nwould have fired a \"drop flare\" several miles off to one side, which\nwould ignite when it was floating vertically toward the earth, so that\nthe direction or point from which it had been fired might not be guessed\nby the airship and bring a blasting play of the disintegrator ray in her\nvicinity. Other members of the air patrol would send up rockets on\nseeing hers, until finally a scout equipped with an ultrophone, which,\nunlike the ancient radio, operated on the ultronic ethereal vibrations,\nwould pass the warning simultaneously to the headquarters of the Wyoming\nGang and other communities within a radius of several hundred miles, not\nto mention the few American rocket ships that might be in the air, and\nwhich instantly would duck to cover either through forest clearings or\nby flattening down to earth in green fields where their coloring would\nprobably protect them from observation. The favorite American method of\npropulsion was known as \"_rocketing_.\" The _rocket_ is what I would\ndescribe, from my 20th Century comprehension of the matter, as an\nextremely powerful gas blast, atomically produced through the\nstimulation of chemical action. Scientists of today regard it as a\nchildishly simple reaction, but by that very virtue, most economical and\nefficient.\n\nBut tomorrow, she explained, she would go back to work in the cloth\nplant, where she would take charge of one of the synthetic processes by\nwhich those wonderful substitutes for woven fabrics of wool, cotton and\nsilk are produced. At the end of another two weeks, she would be back on\nmilitary duty again, perhaps at the same work, or maybe as a \"contact\nguard,\" on duty where the territory of the Wyomings merged with that of\nthe Delawares, or the \"Susquannas\" (Susquehannas) or one of the half\ndozen other \"gangs\" in that section of the country which I knew as\nPennsylvania and New York States.\n\nWilma cleared up for me the mystery of those flying leaps which she and\nher assailants had made, and explained in the following manner, how the\ninertron belt balances weight:\n\n\"_Jumpers_\" were in common use at the time I \"awoke,\" though they were\ncostly, for at that time _inertron_ had not been produced in very great\nquantity. They were very useful in the forest. They were belts,\nstrapped high under the arms, containing an amount of inertron adjusted\nto the wearer's weight and purposes. In effect they made a man weigh as\nlittle as he desired; two pounds if he liked.\n\n\"_Floaters_\" are a later development of \"_jumpers_\"--rocket motors\nencased in _inertron_ blocks and strapped to the back in such a way that\nthe wearer floats, when drifting, facing slightly downward. With his\nmotor in operation, he moves like a diver, headforemost, controlling his\ndirection by twisting his body and by movements of his outstretched arms\nand hands. Ballast weights locked in the front of the belt adjust weight\nand lift. Some men prefer a few ounces of weight in floating, using a\nslight motor thrust to overcome this. Others prefer a buoyance balance\nof a few ounces. The inadvertent dropping of weight is not a serious\nmatter. The motor thrust always can be used to descend. But as an extra\nprecaution, in case the motor should fail, for any reason, there are\nbuilt into every belt a number of detachable sections, one or more of\nwhich can be discarded to balance off any loss in weight.\n\n\"But who were your assailants,\" I asked, \"and why were you attacked?\"\n\nHer assailants, she told me, were members of an outlaw gang, referred to\nas \"Bad Bloods,\" a group which for several generations had been under\nthe domination of conscienceless leaders who tried to advance the\ninterests of their clan by tactics which their neighbors had come to\nregard as unfair, and who in consequence had been virtually boycotted.\nTheir purpose had been to slay her near the Delaware frontier, making it\nappear that the crime had been committed by Delaware scouts and thus\nembroil the Delawares and Wyomings in acts of reprisal against each\nother, or at least cause suspicions.\n\nFortunately they had not succeeded in surprising her, and she had been\nsuccessful in dodging them for some two hours before the shooting began,\nat the moment when I arrived on the scene.\n\n\"But we must not stay here talking,\" Wilma concluded. \"I have to take\nyou in, and besides I must report this attack right away. I think we had\nbetter slip over to the other side of the mountain. Whoever is on that\npost will have a phone, and I can make a direct report. But you'll have\nto have a belt. Mine alone won't help much against our combined weights,\nand there's little to be gained by jumping heavy. It's almost as bad as\nwalking.\"\n\nAfter a little search, we found one of the men I had killed, who had\nfloated down among the trees some distance away and whose belt was not\nbadly damaged. In detaching it from his body, it nearly got away from me\nand shot up in the air. Wilma caught it, however, and though it\nreinforced the lift of her own belt so that she had to hook her knee\naround a branch to hold herself down, she saved it. I climbed the tree\nand, with my weight added to hers, we floated down easily.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nLife in the 25th Century\n\n\nWe were delayed in starting for quite a while since I had to acquire a\nfew crude ideas about the technique of using these belts. I had been\nsitting down, for instance, with the belt strapped about me, enjoying an\nease similar to that of a comfortable armchair; when I stood up with a\nnatural exertion of muscular effort, I shot ten feet into the air, with\na wild instinctive thrashing of arms and legs that amused Wilma greatly.\n\nBut after some practice, I began to get the trick of gauging muscular\neffort to a minimum of vertical and a maximum of horizontal. The correct\nform, I found, was in a measure comparable to that of skating. I found,\nalso, that in forest work particularly the arms and hands could be used\nto great advantage in swinging along from branch to branch, so\nprolonging leaps almost indefinitely at times.\n\nIn going up the side of the mountain, I found that my 20th Century\nmuscles did have an advantage, in spite of lack of skill with the belt,\nand since the slopes were very sharp, and most of our leaps were upward,\nI could have distanced Wilma easily. But when we crossed the ridge and\ndescended, she outstripped me with her superior technique. Choosing the\nsteepest slopes, she would crouch in the top of a tree, and propel\nherself outward, literally diving until, with the loss of horizontal\nmomentum, she would assume a more upright position and float downward.\nIn this manner she would sometimes cover as much as a quarter of a mile\nin a single leap, while I leaped and scrambled clumsily behind,\nthoroughly enjoying the novel sensation.\n\nHalf way down the mountain, we saw another green-clad figure leap out\nabove the tree tops toward us. The three of us perched on an outcropping\nof rock from which a view for many miles around could be had, while\nWilma hastily explained her adventure and my presence to her fellow\nguard; whose name was Alan. I learned later that this was the modern\nform of Helen.\n\n\"You want to report by phone then, don't you?\" Alan took a compact\npacket about six inches square from a holster attached to her belt and\nhanded it to Wilma.\n\nSo far as I could see, it had no special receiver for the ear. Wilma\nmerely threw back a lid, as though she were opening a book, and began to\ntalk. The voice that came back from the machine was as audible as her\nown.\n\nShe was queried closely as to the attack upon her, and at considerable\nlength as to myself, and I could tell from the tone of that voice that\nits owner was not prepared to take me at my face value as readily as\nWilma had. For that matter, neither was the other girl. I could realize\nit from the suspicious glances she threw my way, when she thought my\nattention was elsewhere, and the manner in which her hand hovered\nconstantly near her gun holster.\n\nWilma was ordered to bring me in at once, and informed that another\nscout would take her place on the other side of the mountain. So she\nclosed down the lid of the phone and handed it back to Alan, who seemed\nrelieved to see us departing over the tree tops in the direction of the\ncamps.\n\nWe had covered perhaps ten miles, in what still seemed to me a\nsurprisingly easy fashion, when Wilma explained, that from here on we\nwould have to keep to the ground. We were nearing the camps, she said,\nand there was always the possibility that some small Han scoutship,\ninvisible high in the sky, might catch sight of us through a\nprojectoscope and thus find the general location of the camps.\n\nWilma took me to the Scout office, which proved to be a small building\nof irregular shape, conforming to the trees around it, and substantially\nconstructed of green sheet-like material.\n\nI was received by the assistant Scout Boss, who reported my arrival at\nonce to the historical office, and to officials he called the Psycho\nBoss and the History Boss, who came in a few minutes later. The attitude\nof all three men was at first polite but skeptical, and Wilma's ardent\nadvocacy seemed to amuse them secretly.\n\nFor the next two hours I talked, explained and answered questions. I had\nto explain, in detail, the manner of my life in the 20th Century and my\nunderstanding of customs, habits, business, science and the history of\nthat period, and about developments in the centuries that had elapsed.\nHad I been in a classroom, I would have come through the examination\nwith a very poor mark, for I was unable to give any answer to fully half\nof their questions. But before long I realized that the majority of\nthese questions were designed as traps. Objects, of whose purpose I knew\nnothing, were casually handed to me, and I was watched keenly as I\nhandled them.\n\nIn the end I could see both amazement and belief begin to show in the\nfaces of my inquisitors, and at last the Historical and Psycho Bosses\nagreed openly that they could find no flaw in my story or reactions, and\nthat unbelievable as it seemed, my story must be accepted as genuine.\n\nThey took me at once to Big Boss Hart. He was a portly man with a \"poker\nface.\" He would probably have been the successful politician even in the\n20th Century.\n\nThey gave him a brief outline of my story and a report of their\nexamination of me. He made no comment other than to nod his acceptance\nof it. Then he turned to me.\n\n\"How does it feel?\" he asked. \"Do we look funny to you?\"\n\n\"A bit strange,\" I admitted. \"But I'm beginning to lose that dazed\nfeeling, though I can see I have an awful lot to learn.\"\n\n\"Maybe we can learn some things from you, too,\" he said. \"So you fought\nin the First World War. Do you know, we have very little left in the way\nof records of the details of that war, that is, the precise conditions\nunder which it was fought, and the tactics employed. We forgot many\nthings during the Han terror, and--well, I think you might have a lot of\nideas worth thinking over for our raid masters. By the way, now that\nyou're here, and can't go back to your own century, so to speak, what do\nyou want to do? You're welcome to become one of us. Or perhaps you'd\njust like to visit with us for a while, and then look around among the\nother gangs. Maybe you'd like some of the others better. Don't make up\nyour mind now. We'll put you down as an exchange for a while. Let's see.\nYou and Bill Hearn ought to get along well together. He's Camp Boss of\nNumber 34 when he isn't acting as Raid Boss or Scout Boss. There's a\nvacancy in his camp. Stay with him and think things over as long as you\nwant to. As soon as you make up your mind to anything, let me know.\"\n\nWe all shook hands, for that was one custom that had not died out in\nfive hundred years, and I set out with Bill Hearn.\n\nBill, like all the others, was clad in green. He was a big man. That is,\nhe was about my own height, five feet eleven. This was considerably\nabove the average now, for the race had lost something in stature, it\nseemed, through the vicissitudes of five centuries. Most of the women\nwere a bit below five feet, and the men only a trifle above this height.\n\nFor a period of two weeks Bill was to confine himself to camp duties, so\nI had a good chance to familiarize myself with the community life. It\nwas not easy. There were so many marvels to absorb. I never ceased to\nwonder at the strange combination of rustic social life and feverish\nindustrial activity. At least, it was strange to me. For in my\nexperience, industrial development meant crowded cities, tenements,\npaved streets, profusion of vehicles, noise, hurrying men and women with\nstrained or dull faces, vast structures and ornate public works.\n\nHere, however, was rustic simplicity, apparently isolated families and\ngroups, living in the heart of the forest, with a quarter of a mile or\nmore between households, a total absence of crowds, no means of\nconveyance other than the belts called jumpers, almost constantly worn\nby everybody, and an occasional rocket ship, used only for longer\njourneys, and underground plants or factories that were to my mind more\nlike laboratories and engine rooms; many of them were excavations as\ndeep as mines, with well finished, lighted and comfortable interiors.\nThese people were adepts at camouflage against air observation. Not only\nwould their activity have been unsuspected by an airship passing over\nthe center of the community, but even by an enemy who might happen to\ndrop through the screen of the upper branches to the floor of the\nforest. The camps, or household structures, were all irregular in shape\nand of colors that blended with the great trees among which they were\nhidden.\n\nThere were 724 dwellings or \"camps\" among the Wyomings, located within\nan area of about fifteen square miles. The total population was 8,688,\nevery man, woman and child, whether member or \"exchange,\" being listed.\n\nThe plants were widely scattered through the territory also. Nowhere was\nanything like congestion permitted. So far as possible, families and\nindividuals were assigned to living quarters, not too far from the\nplants or offices in which their work lay.\n\nAll able-bodied men and women alternated in two-week periods between\nmilitary and industrial service, except those who were needed for\nhousehold work. Since working conditions in the plants and offices were\nideal, and everybody thus had plenty of healthy outdoor activity in\naddition, the population was sturdy and active. Laziness was regarded as\nnearly the greatest of social offenses. Hard work and general merit were\nvariously rewarded with extra privileges, advancement to positions of\nauthority, and with various items of personal equipment for convenience\nand luxury.\n\nIn leisure moments, I got great enjoyment from sitting outside the\ndwelling in which I was quartered with Bill Hearn and ten other men,\nwatching the occasional passers-by, as with leisurely, but swift\nmovements, they swung up and down the forest trail, rising from the\nground in long almost-horizontal leaps, occasionally swinging from one\nconvenient branch overhead to another before \"sliding\" back to the\nground farther on. Normal traveling pace, where these trails were\nstraight enough, was about twenty miles an hour. Such things as\nautomobiles and railroad trains (the memory of them not more than a\nmonth old in my mind) seemed inexpressibly silly and futile compared\nwith such convenience as these belts or jumpers offered.\n\nBill suggested that I wander around for several days, from plant to\nplant, to observe and study what I could. The entire community had been\napprised of my coming, my rating as an \"exchange\" reaching every\nbuilding and post in the community, by means of ultronic broadcast.\nEverywhere I was welcomed in an interested and helpful spirit.\n\nI visited the plants where ultronic vibrations were isolated from the\nether and through slow processes built up into sub-electronic,\nelectronic and atomic forms into the two great synthetic elements,\nultron and inertron. I learned something, superficially at least, of the\nprocesses of combined chemical and mechanical action through which were\nproduced the various forms of synthetic cloth. I watched the manufacture\nof the machines which were used at locations of construction to produce\nthe various forms of building materials. But I was particularly\ninterested in the munitions plants and the rocket-ship shops.\n\nUltron is a solid of great molecular density and moderate elasticity,\nwhich has the property of being 100 percent conductive to those\npulsations known as light, electricity and heat. Since it is completely\npermeable to light vibrations, it is therefore _absolutely invisible and\nnon-reflective_. Its magnetic response is almost, but not quite, 100\npercent also. It is therefore very heavy under normal conditions but\nextremely responsive to the _repellor_ or anti-gravity rays, such as the\nHans use as \"_legs_\" for their airships.\n\nInertron is the second great triumph of American research and\nexperimentation with ultronic forces. It was developed just a few years\nbefore my awakening in the abandoned mine. It is a synthetic element,\nbuilt up, through a complicated heterodyning of ultronic pulsations,\nfrom \"infra-balanced\" sub-ionic forms. It is completely inert to both\nelectric and magnetic forces in all the orders above the _ultronic_;\nthat is to say, the _sub-electronic_, the _electronic_, the _atomic_ and\nthe _molecular_. In consequence it has a number of amazing and\nvaluable properties. One of these is _the total lack of weight_. Another\nis a total lack of heat. It has no molecular vibration whatever. It\nreflects 100 percent of the heat and light impinging upon it. It does\nnot feel cold to the touch, of course, since it will not absorb the heat\nof the hand. It is a solid, very dense in molecular structure despite\nits lack of weight, of great strength and considerable elasticity. It is\na perfect shield against the disintegrator rays.\n\n[Illustration: Setting his rocket gun for a long-distance shot.]\n\nRocket guns are very simple contrivances so far as the mechanism of\nlaunching the bullet is concerned. They are simple light tubes, closed\nat the rear end, with a trigger-actuated pin for piercing the thin skin\nat the base of the cartridge. This piercing of the skin starts the\nchemical and atomic reaction. The entire cartridge leaves the tube under\nits own power, at a very easy initial velocity, just enough to insure\naccuracy of aim; so the tube does not have to be of heavy construction.\nThe bullet increases in velocity as it goes. It may be solid or\nexplosive. It may explode on contact or on time, or a combination of\nthese two.\n\nBill and I talked mostly of weapons, military tactics and strategy.\nStrangely enough he had no idea whatever of the possibilities of the\nbarrage, though the tremendous effect of a \"curtain of fire\" with such\nhigh-explosive projectiles as these modern rocket guns used was obvious\nto me. But the barrage idea, it seemed, has been lost track of\ncompletely in the air wars that followed the First World War, and in the\npeculiar guerilla tactics developed by Americans in the later period of\noperations from the ground against Han airships, and in the gang wars\nwhich, until a few generations ago I learned, had been almost\ncontinuous.\n\n\"I wonder,\" said Bill one day, \"if we couldn't work up some form of\nbarrage to spring on the Bad Bloods. The Big Boss told me today that\nhe's been in communication with the other gangs, and all are agreed that\nthe Bad Bloods might as well be wiped out for good. That attempt on\nWilma Deering's life and their evident desire to make trouble among the\ngangs, has stirred up every community east of the Alleghenies. The Boss\nsays that none of the others will object if we go after them. So I\nimagine that before long we will. Now show me again how you worked that\nbusiness in the Argonne forest. The conditions ought to be pretty much\nthe same.\"\n\nI went over it with him in detail, and gradually we worked out a\nmodified plan that would be better adapted to our more powerful weapons,\nand the use of jumpers.\n\n\"It will be easy,\" Bill exulted. \"I'll slide down and talk it over with\nthe Boss tomorrow.\"\n\nDuring the first two weeks of my stay with the Wyomings, Wilma Deering\nand I saw a great deal of each other. I naturally felt a little closer\nfriendship for her, in view of the fact that she was the first human\nbeing I saw after waking from my long sleep; her appreciation of my\nsaving her life, though I could not have done otherwise than I did in\nthat matter, and most of all my own appreciation of the fact that she\nhad not found it as difficult as the others to believe my story,\noperated in the same direction. I could easily imagine my story must\nhave sounded incredible.\n\nIt was natural enough too, that she should feel an unusual interest in\nme. In the first place, I was her personal discovery. In the second, she\nwas a girl of studious and reflective turn of mind. She never got tired\nof my stories and descriptions of the 20th Century.\n\nThe others of the community, however, seemed to find our friendship a\nbit amusing. It seemed that Wilma had a reputation for being cold toward\nthe opposite sex, and so others, not being able to appreciate some of\nher fine qualities as I did, misinterpreted her attitude, much to their\nown delight. Wilma and I, however, ignored this as much as we could.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nA Han Air Raid\n\n\nThere was a girl in Wilma's camp named Gerdi Mann, with whom Bill Hearn\nwas desperately in love, and the four of us used to go around a lot\ntogether. Gerdi was a distinct type. Whereas Wilma had the usual dark\nbrown hair and hazel eyes that marked nearly every member of the\ncommunity, Gerdi had red hair, blue eyes and very fair skin. She has\nbeen dead many years now, but I remember her vividly because she was a\nthrowback in physical appearance to a certain 20th Century type which I\nhave found very rare among modern Americans; also because the four of us\nwere engaged one day in a discussion of this very point, when I obtained\nmy first experience of a Han air raid.\n\nWe were sitting high on the side of a hill overlooking the valley that\nteemed with human activity, invisible beneath its blanket of foliage.\n\nThe other three, who knew of the Irish but vaguely and indefinitely, as\na race on the other side of the globe, which, like ourselves, had\nsucceeded in maintaining a precarious and fugitive existence in\nrebellion against the Mongolian domination of the earth, were listening\nwith interest to my theory that Gerdi's ancestors of several hundred\nyears ago must have been Irish. I explained that Gerdi was an Irish\ntype, evidently a throwback, and that her surname might well have been\nMcMann, or McMahan, and still more anciently \"mac Mathghamhain.\" They\nwere interested too in my surmise that \"Gerdi\" was the same name as that\nwhich had been \"Gerty\" or \"Gertrude\" in the 20th Century.\n\nIn the middle of our discussion, we were startled by an alarm rocket\nthat burst high in the air, far to the north, spreading a pall of red\nsmoke that drifted like a cloud. It was followed by others at scattered\npoints in the northern sky.\n\n\"A Han raid!\" Bill exclaimed in amazement. \"The first in seven years!\"\n\n\"Maybe it's just one of their ships off its course,\" I ventured.\n\n\"No,\" said Wilma in some agitation. \"That would be green rockets. Red\nmeans only one thing, Tony. They're sweeping the countryside with their\ndis beams. Can you see anything, Bill?\"\n\n\"We had better get under cover,\" Gerdi said nervously. \"The four of us\nare bunched here in the open. For all we know they may be twelve miles\nup, out of sight, yet looking at us with a projecto'.\"\n\nBill had been sweeping the horizon hastily with his glass, but\napparently saw nothing.\n\n\"We had better scatter, at that,\" he said finally. \"It's orders, you\nknow. See!\" He pointed to the valley.\n\nHere and there a tiny human figure shot for a moment above the foliage\nof the treetops.\n\n\"That's bad,\" Wilma commented, as she counted the jumpers. \"No less than\nfifteen people visible, and all clearly radiating from a central point.\nDo they want to give away our location?\"\n\nThe standard orders covering air raids were that the population was to\nscatter individually. There should be no grouping, or even pairing, in\nview of the destructiveness of the disintegrator rays. Experience of\ngenerations had proved that if this were done, and everybody remained\nhidden beneath the tree screens, the Hans would have to sweep mile after\nmile of territory, foot by foot, to catch more than a small percentage\nof the community.\n\nGerdi, however, refused to leave Bill, and Wilma developed an equal\nobstinacy against quitting my side. I was inexperienced at this sort of\nthing, she explained, quite ignoring the fact that she was too; she was\nonly thirteen or fourteen years old at the time of the last air raid.\n\nHowever, since I could not argue her out of it, we leaped together about\na quarter of a mile to the right, while Bill and Gerdi disappeared down\nthe hillside among the trees.\n\nWilma and I both wanted a point of vantage from which we might overlook\nthe valley and the sky to the north, and we found it near the top of the\nridge, where, protected from visibility by thick branches, we could look\nout between the tree trunks, and get a good view of the valley.\n\nNo more rockets went up. Except for a few of those warning red clouds,\ndrifting lazily in a blue sky, there was no visible indication of man's\npast or present existence anywhere in the sky or on the ground.\n\nThen Wilma gripped my arm and pointed. I saw it; away off in the\ndistance; looking like a phantom dirigible airship, in its coat of\nlow-visibility paint, a bare spectre.\n\n\"Seven thousand feet up,\" Wilma whispered, crouching close to me.\n\"Watch.\"\n\nThe ship was about the same shape as the great dirigibles of the 20th\nCentury that I had seen, but without the suspended control car, engines,\npropellors, rudders or elevating planes. As it loomed rapidly nearer, I\nsaw that it was wider and somewhat flatter than I had supposed.\n\nNow I could see the repellor rays that held the ship aloft, like\nsearchlight beams faintly visible in the bright daylight (and still\nfaintly visible to the human eye at night). Actually, I had been\ninformed by my instructors, there were two rays; the visible one\ngenerated by the ship's apparatus, and directed toward the ground as a\nbeam of \"carrier\" impulses; and the true repellor ray, the complement of\nthe other in one sense, induced by the action of the \"carrier\" and\nreacting in a concentrating upward direction from the mass of the earth,\nbecoming successively electronic, atomic and finally molecular, in its\nnature, according to various ratios of distance between earth mass and\n\"carrier\" source, until, in the last analysis, the ship itself actually\nis supported on an upward rushing column of air, much like a ball\ncontinuously supported on a fountain jet.\n\nThe raider neared with incredible speed. Its rays were both slanted\nastern at a sharp angle, so that it slid forward with tremendous\nmomentum.\n\nThe ship was operating two disintegrator rays, though only in a casual,\nintermittent fashion. But whenever they flashed downward with blinding\nbrilliancy, forest, rocks and ground melted instantaneously into\nnothing, where they played upon them.\n\nWhen later I inspected the scars left by these rays I found them some\nfive feet deep and thirty feet wide, the exposed surfaces being\nlava-like in texture, but of a pale, iridescent, greenish hue.\n\nNo systematic use of the rays was made by the ship, however, until it\nreached a point over the center of the valley--the center of the\ncommunity's activities. There it came to a sudden stop by shooting its\nrepellor beams sharply forward and easing them back gradually to the\nvertical, holding the ship floating and motionless. Then the work of\ndestruction began systematically.\n\nBack and forth traveled the destroying rays, ploughing parallel furrows\nfrom hillside to hillside. We gasped in dismay, Wilma and I, as time\nafter time we saw it plough through sections where we knew camps or\nplants were located.\n\n\"This is awful,\" she moaned, a terrified question in her eyes. \"How\ncould they know the location so exactly, Tony? Did you see? They were\nnever in doubt. They stalled at a predetermined spot--and--and it was\nexactly the right spot.\"\n\nWe did not talk of what might happen if the rays were turned in our\ndirection. We both knew. We would simply disintegrate in a split second\ninto mere scattered electronic vibrations. Strangely enough, it was this\nself-reliant girl of the 25th Century, who clung to me, a relatively\nprimitive man of the 20th, less familiar than she with the thought of\nthis terrifying possibility, for moral support.\n\nWe knew that many of our companions must have been whisked into absolute\nnon-existence before our eyes in these few moments. The whole thing\nparalyzed us into mental and physical immobility for I do not know how\nlong.\n\nIt couldn't have been long, however, for the rays had not ploughed more\nthan thirty of their twenty-foot furrows or so across the valley, when I\nregained control of myself, and brought Wilma to herself by shaking her\nroughly.\n\n\"How far will this rocket gun shoot, Wilma?\" I demanded, drawing my\npistol.\n\n\"It depends on your rocket, Tony. It will take even the longest range\nrocket, but you could shoot more accurately from a longer tube. But why?\nYou couldn't penetrate the shell of that ship with rocket force, even if\nyou could reach it.\"\n\nI fumbled clumsily with my rocket pouch, for I was excited. I had an\nidea I wanted to try; a \"hunch\" I called it, forgetting that Wilma could\nnot understand my ancient slang. But finally, with her help, I selected\nthe longest range explosive rocket in my pouch, and fitted it to my\npistol.\n\n\"It won't carry seven thousand feet, Tony,\" Wilma objected. But I took\naim carefully. It was another thought that I had in my mind. The\nsupporting repellor ray, I had been told, became molecular in character\nat what was called a logarithmic level of five (below that it was a\npurely electronic \"flow\" or pulsation between the source of the\n\"carrier\" and the average mass of the earth). Below that level if I\ncould project my explosive bullet into this stream where it began to\ncarry material substance upward, might it not rise with the air column,\ngathering speed and hitting the ship with enough impact to carry it\nthrough the shell? It was worth trying anyhow. Wilma became greatly\nexcited, too, when she grasped the nature of my inspiration.\n\nFeverishly I looked around for some formation of branches against which\nI could rest the pistol, for I had to aim most carefully. At last I\nfound one. Patiently I sighted on the hulk of the ship far above us,\naiming at the far side of it, at such an angle as would, so far as I\ncould estimate, bring my bullet path through the forward repellor beam.\nAt last the sights wavered across the point I sought and I pressed the\nbutton gently.\n\nFor a moment we gazed breathlessly.\n\nSuddenly the ship swung bow down, as on a pivot, and swayed like a\npendulum. Wilma screamed in her excitement.\n\n\"Oh, Tony, you hit it! You hit it! Do it again; bring it down!\"\n\nWe had only one more rocket of extreme range between us, and we dropped\nit three times in our excitement in inserting it in my gun. Then,\nforcing myself to be calm by sheer will power, while Wilma stuffed her\nlittle fist into her mouth to keep from shrieking, I sighted carefully\nagain and fired. In a flash, Wilma had grasped the hope that this\ndiscovery of mine might lead to the end of the Han domination.\n\nThe elapsed time of the rocket's invisible flight seemed an age.\n\nThen we saw the ship falling. It seemed to plunge lazily, but actually\nit fell with terrific acceleration, turning end over end, its\ndisintegrator rays, out of control, describing vast, wild arcs, and once\ncutting a gash through the forest less than two hundred feet from where\nwe stood.\n\nThe crash with which the heavy craft hit the ground reverberated from\nthe hills--the momentum of eighteen or twenty thousand tons, in a sheer\ndrop of seven thousand feet. A mangled mass of metal, it buried itself\nin the ground, with poetic justice, in the middle of the smoking,\nsemi-molten field of destruction it had been so deliberately ploughing.\n\nThe silence, the vacuity of the landscape, was oppressive, as the last\nechoes died away.\n\nThen far down the hillside, a single figure leaped exultantly above the\nfoliage screen. And in the distance another, and another.\n\nIn a moment the sky was punctured by signal rockets. One after another\nthe little red puffs became drifting clouds.\n\n\"Scatter! Scatter!\" Wilma exclaimed. \"In half an hour there'll be an\nentire Han fleet here from Nu-yok, and another from Bah-flo. They'll get\nthis instantly on their recordographs and location finders. They'll\nblast the whole valley and the country for miles beyond. Come, Tony.\nThere's no time for the gang to rally. See the signals. We've got to\njump. Oh, I'm so proud of you!\"\n\nOver the ridge we went, in long leaps toward the east, the country of\nthe Delawares.\n\nFrom time to time signal rockets puffed in the sky. Most of them were\nthe \"red warnings,\" the \"scatter\" signals. But from certain of the\nothers, which Wilma identified as Wyoming rockets, she gathered that\nwhoever was in command (we did not know whether the Boss was alive or\nnot) was ordering an ultimate rally toward the south, and so we changed\nour course.\n\nIt was a great pity, I thought, that the clan had not been equipped\nthroughout its membership with ultrophones, but Wilma explained to me,\nthat not enough of these had been built for distribution as yet,\nalthough general distribution had been contemplated within a couple of\nmonths.\n\nWe traveled far before nightfall overtook us, trying only to put as much\ndistance as possible between ourselves and the valley.\n\nWhen gathering dusk made jumping too dangerous, we sought a comfortable\nspot beneath the trees, and consumed part of our emergency rations. It\nwas the first time I had tasted the stuff--a highly nutritive synthetic\nsubstance called \"concentro,\" which was, however, a bit bitter and\nunpalatable. But as only a mouthful or so was needed, it did not matter.\n\nNeither of us had a cloak, but we were both thoroughly tired and happy,\nso we curled up together for warmth. I remember Wilma making some sleepy\nremark about our mating, as she cuddled up, as though the matter were\nall settled, and my surprise at my own instant acceptance of the idea,\nfor I had not consciously thought of her that way before. But we both\nfell asleep at once.\n\nIn the morning we found little time for love making. The practical\nproblem facing us was too great. Wilma felt that the Wyoming plan must\nbe to rally in the Susquanna territory, but she had her doubts about the\nwisdom of this plan. In my elation at my success in bringing down the\nHan ship, and my newly found interest in my charming companion, who was,\nfrom my viewpoint of another century, at once more highly civilized and\nyet more primitive than myself, I had forgotten the ominous fact that\nthe Han ship I had destroyed must have known the exact location of the\nWyoming Works.\n\nThis meant, to Wilma's logical mind, either that the Hans had perfected\nnew instruments as yet unknown to us, or that somewhere, among the\nWyomings or some other nearby gang, there were traitors so degraded as\nto commit that unthinkable act of trafficking in information with the\nHans. In either contingency, she argued, other Han raids would follow,\nand since the Susquannas had a highly developed organization and more\nthan usually productive plants, the next raid might be expected to\nstrike them.\n\nBut at any rate it was clearly our business to get in touch with the\nother fugitives as quickly as possible, so in spite of muscles that were\nsore from the excessive leaping of the day before, we continued on our\nway.\n\nWe traveled for only a couple of hours when we saw a multi-colored\nrocket in the sky, some ten miles ahead of us.\n\n\"Bear to the left, Tony,\" Wilma said, \"and listen for the whistle.\"\n\n\"Why?\" I asked.\n\n\"Haven't they given you the rocket code yet?\" she replied. \"That's what\nthe green, followed by yellow and purple means; to concentrate five\nmiles east of the rocket position. You know the rocket position itself\nmight draw a play of disintegrator beams.\"\n\nIt did not take us long to reach the neighborhood of the indicated\nrallying, though we were now traveling beneath the trees, with but an\noccasional leap to a top branch to see if any more rocket smoke was\nfloating above. And soon we heard a distant whistle.\n\nWe found about half the Gang already there, in a spot where the trees\nmet high above a little stream. The Big Boss and Raid Bosses were busy\nreorganizing the remnants.\n\nWe reported to Boss Hart at once. He was silent, but interested, when he\nheard our story.\n\n\"You two stick close to me,\" he said, adding grimly, \"I'm going back to\nthe valley at once with a hundred picked men, and I'll need you.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nSetting the Trap\n\n\nInside of fifteen minutes we were on our way. A certain amount of\ncaution was sacrificed for the sake of speed, and the men leaped away\neither across the forest top, or over open spaces of ground, but\nconcentration was forbidden. The Big Boss named the spot on the hillside\nas the rallying point.\n\n\"We'll have to take a chance on being seen, so long as we don't group,\"\nhe declared, \"at least until within five miles of the rallying spot.\nFrom then on I want every man to disappear from sight and to travel\nunder cover. And keep your ultrophones open, and tuned on\nten-four-seven-six.\"\n\nWilma and I had received our battle equipment from the Gear boss. It\nconsisted of a long-gun, a hand-gun, with a special case of ammunition\nconstructed of inertron, which made the load weigh but a few ounces, and\na short sword. This gear we strapped over each other's shoulders, on top\nof our jumping belts. In addition, we each received an ultrophone, and a\nlight inertron blanket rolled into a cylinder about six inches long by\ntwo or three in diameter. This fabric was exceedingly thin and light,\nbut it had considerable warmth, because of the mixture of inertron in\nits composition.\n\n[Illustration: The Han raider neared with incredible speed. Its rays\nwere both slanted astern at a sharp angle, so that it slid forward with\ntremendous momentum.... Whenever the disintegrator rays flashed downward\nwith blinding brilliancy, forest, rocks and ground melted\ninstantaneously into nothing, where they played upon them.]\n\n\"This looks like business,\" Wilma remarked to me with sparkling eyes.\n(And I might mention a curious thing here. The word \"business\" had\nsurvived from the 20th Century American vocabulary, but not with any\nmeaning of \"industry\" or \"trade,\" for such things being purely community\nactivities were spoken of as \"work\" and \"clearing.\" Business simply\nmeant fighting, and that was all.)\n\n\"Did you bring all this equipment from the valley?\" I asked the Gear\nBoss.\n\n\"No,\" he said. \"There was no time to gather anything. All this stuff we\ncleared from the Susquannas a few hours ago. I was with the Boss on the\nway down, and he had me jump on ahead and arrange it. But you two had\nbetter be moving. He's beckoning you now.\"\n\nHart was about to call us on our phones when we looked up. As soon as we\ndid so, he leaped away, waving us to follow closely.\n\nHe was a powerful man, and he darted ahead in long, swift, low leaps up\nthe banks of the stream, which followed a fairly straight course at this\npoint. By extending ourselves, however, Wilma and I were able to catch\nup to him.\n\nAs we gradually synchronized our leaps with his, he outlined to us,\nbetween the grunts that accompanied each leap, his plan of action.\n\n\"We have to start the big business--unh--sooner or later,\" he said.\n\"And if--unh--the Hans have found any way of locating our\npositions--unh--it's time to start now, although the Council of\nBosses--unh--had intended waiting a few years until enough rocket ships\nhave been--unh--built. But no matter what the sacrifice--unh--we can't\nafford to let them get us on the run--unh--. We'll set a trap for the\nyellow devils in the--unh--valley if they come back for their\nwreckage--unh--and if they don't, we'll go rocketing for some of their\nliners--unh--on the Nu-yok, Clee-lan, Si-ka-ga course. We can\nuse--unh--that idea of yours of shooting up the repellor--unh--beams.\nWant you to give us a demonstration.\"\n\nWith further admonition to follow him closely, he increased his pace,\nand Wilma and I were taxed to our utmost to keep up with him. It was\nonly in ascending the slopes that my tougher muscles overbalanced his\ngreater skill, and I was able to set the pace for him, as I had for\nWilma.\n\nWe slept in greater comfort that night, under our inertron blankets, and\nwere off with the dawn, leaping cautiously to the top of the ridge\noverlooking the valley which Wilma and I had left.\n\nThe Boss scanned the sky with his ultroscope, patiently taking some\nfifteen minutes to the task, and then swung his phone into use, calling\nthe roll and giving the men their instructions.\n\nHis first order was for us all to slip our ear and chest discs into\npermanent position.\n\nThese ultrophones were quite different from the one used by Wilma's\ncompanion scout the day I saved her from the vicious attack of the\nbandit Gang. That one was contained entirely in a small pocket case.\nThese, with which we were now equipped, consisted of a pair of ear\ndiscs, each a separate and self-contained receiving set. They slipped\ninto little pockets over our ears in the fabric helmets we wore, and\nshut out virtually all extraneous sounds. The chest discs were likewise\nself-contained sending sets, strapped to the chest a few inches below\nthe neck and actuated by the vibrations from the vocal cords through the\nbody tissues. The total range of these sets was about eighteen miles.\nReception was remarkably clear, quite free from the static that so\nmarked the 20th Century radios, and of a strength in direct proportion\nto the distance of the speaker.\n\nThe Boss' set was triple powered, so that his orders would cut in on any\nlocal conversations, which were indulged in, however, with great\nrestraint, and only for the purpose of maintaining contacts.\n\nI marveled at the efficiency of this modern method of battle\ncommunication in contrast to the clumsy signaling devices of more\nancient times; and also at other military contrasts in which the 20th\nand 25th Century methods were the reverse of each other in efficiency.\nThese modern Americans, for instance, knew little of hand to hand\nfighting, and nothing, naturally, of trench warfare. Of barrages they\nwere quite ignorant, although they possessed weapons of terrific power.\nAnd until my recent flash of inspiration, no one among them, apparently,\nhad ever thought of the scheme of shooting a rocket into a repellor beam\nand letting the beam itself hurl it upward into the most vital part of\nthe Han ship.\n\nHart patiently placed his men, first giving his instructions to the\ncampmasters, and then remaining silent, while they placed the\nindividuals.\n\nIn the end, the hundred men were ringed about the valley, on the\nhillsides and tops, each in a position from which he had a good view of\nthe wreckage of the Han ship. But not a man had come in view, so far as\nI could see, in the whole process.\n\nThe Boss explained to me that it was his idea that he, Wilma and I\nshould investigate the wreck. If Han ships should appear in the sky, we\nwould leap for the hillsides.\n\nI suggested to him to have the men set up their long-guns trained on an\nimaginary circle surrounding the wreck. He busied himself with this\nafter the three of us leaped down to the Han ship, serving as a target\nhimself, while he called on the men individually to aim their pieces and\nlock them in position.\n\nIn the meantime Wilma and I climbed into the wreckage, but did not find\nmuch. Practically all of the instruments and machinery had been twisted\nout of all recognizable shape, or utterly destroyed by the ship's\ndisintegrator rays which apparently had continued to operate in the\nmidst of its warped remains for some moments after the crash.\n\nIt was unpleasant work searching the mangled bodies of the crew. But it\nhad to be done. The Han clothing, I observed, was quite different from\nthat of the Americans, and in many respects more like the garb to which\nI had been accustomed in the earlier part of my life. It was made of\nsynthetic fabrics like silks, loose and comfortable trousers of knee\nlength, and sleeveless shirts.\n\nNo protection, except that against drafts, was needed, Wilma explained\nto me, for the Han cities were entirely enclosed, with splendid\narrangements for ventilation and heating. These arrangements of course\nwere equally adequate in their airships. The Hans, indeed, had quite a\ndistaste for unshaded daylight, since their lighting apparatus diffused\na controlled amount of violet rays, making the unmodified sunlight\nunnecessary for health, and undesirable for comfort. Since the Hans did\nnot have the secret of inertron, none of them wore anti-gravity belts.\nYet in spite of the fact that they had to bear their own full weights at\nall times, they were physically far inferior to the Americans, for they\nlived lives of degenerative physical inertia, having machinery of every\ndescription for the performance of all labor, and convenient conveyances\nfor any movement of more than a few steps.\n\nEven from the twisted wreckage of this ship I could see that seats,\nchairs and couches played an extremely important part in their scheme of\nexistence.\n\nBut none of the bodies were overweight. They seemed to have been the\nbodies of men in good health, but muscularly much underdeveloped. Wilma\nexplained to me that they had mastered the science of gland control, and\nof course dietetics, to the point where men and women among them not\nuncommonly reached the age of a hundred years with arteries and general\nhealth in splendid condition.\n\nI did not have time to study the ship and its contents as carefully as I\nwould have liked, however. Time pressed, and it was our business to\ndiscover some clue to the deadly accuracy with which the ship had\nspotted the Wyoming Works.\n\nThe Boss had hardly finished his arrangements for the ring barrage, when\none of the scouts on an eminence to the north, announced the approach of\nseven Han ships, spread out in a great semi-circle.\n\nHart leaped for the hillside, calling to us to do likewise, but Wilma\nand I had raised the flaps of our helmets and switched off our\n\"speakers\" for conversation between ourselves, and by the time we\ndiscovered what had happened, the ships were clearly visible, so fast\nwere they approaching.\n\n\"Jump!\" we heard the Boss order, \"Deering to the north. Rogers to the\neast.\"\n\nBut Wilma looked at me meaningly and pointed to where the twisted plates\nof the ship, projecting from the ground, offered a shelter.\n\n\"Too late, Boss,\" she said. \"They'd see us. Besides I think there's\nsomething here we ought to look at. It's probably their magnetic graph.\"\n\n\"You're signing your death warrant,\" Hart warned.\n\n\"We'll risk it,\" said Wilma and I together.\n\n\"Good for you,\" replied the Boss. \"Take command then, Rogers, for the\npresent. Do you all know his voice, boys?\"\n\nA chorus of assent rang in our ears, and I began to do some fast\nthinking as the girl and I ducked into the twisted mass of metal.\n\n\"Wilma, hunt for that record,\" I said, knowing that by the simple\nprocess of talking I could keep the entire command continuously informed\nas to the situation. \"On the hillsides, keep your guns trained on the\ncircles and stand by. On the hilltops, how many of you are there? Speak\nin rotation from Bald Knob around to the east, north, west.\"\n\nIn turn the men called their names. There were twenty of them.\n\nI assigned them by name to cover the various Han ships, numbering the\nlatter from left to right.\n\n\"Train your rockets on their repellor rays about three-quarters of the\nway up, between ships and ground. Aim is more important than elevation.\nFollow those rays with your aim continuously. Shoot when I tell you, not\nbefore. Deering has the record. The Hans probably have not seen us, or\nat least think there are but two of us in the valley, since they're\nsettling without opening up disintegrators. Any opinions?\"\n\nMy ear discs remained silent.\n\n\"Deering and I remain here until they land and debark. Stand by and keep\nalert.\"\n\nRapidly and easily the largest of the Han ships settled to the earth.\nThree scouted sharply to the south, rising to a higher level. The others\nfloated motionless about a thousand feet above.\n\nPeeping through a small fissure between two plates, I saw the vast hulk\nof the ship come to rest full on the line of our prospective ring\nbarrage. A door clanged open a couple of feet from the ground, and one\nby one the crew emerged.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\nThe \"Wyoming Massacre\"\n\n\n\"They're coming out of the ship.\" I spoke quietly, with my hand over\nmy mouth, for fear they might hear me. \"One--two--three--four,\nfive--six--seven--eight--nine. That seems to be all. Who knows how\nmany men a ship like that is likely to carry?\"\n\n\"About ten, if there are no passengers,\" replied one of my men, probably\none of those on the hillside.\n\n\"How are they armed?\" I asked.\n\n\"Just knives,\" came the reply. \"They never permit hand-rays on the\nships. Afraid of accidents. Have a ruling against it.\"\n\n\"Leave them to us then,\" I said, for I had a hastily formed plan in my\nmind. \"You, on the hillsides, take the ships above. Abandon the ring\ntarget. Divide up in training on those repellor rays. You, on the\nhilltops, all train on the repellors of the ships to the south. Shoot at\nthe word, but not before.\n\n\"Wilma, crawl over to your left where you can make a straight leap for\nthe door in that ship. These men are all walking around the wreck in a\nbunch. When they're on the far side, I'll give the word and you leap\nthrough that door in one bound. I'll follow. Maybe we won't be seen.\nWe'll overpower the guard inside, but don't shoot. We may escape being\nseen by both this crew and ships above. They can't see over this wreck.\"\n\nIt was so easy that it seemed too good to be true. The Hans who had\nemerged from the ship walked round the wreckage lazily, talking in\nguttural tones, keenly interested in the wreck, but quite unsuspicious.\n\nAt last they were on the far side. In a moment they would be picking\ntheir way into the wreck.\n\n\"Wilma, leap!\" I almost whispered the order.\n\nThe distance between Wilma's hiding place and the door in the side of\nthe Han ship was not more than fifteen feet. She was already crouched\nwith her feet braced against a metal beam. Taking the lift of that\nwonderful inertron belt into her calculation, she dove headforemost,\nlike a green projectile, through the door. I followed in a split second,\nmore clumsily, but no less speedily, bruising my shoulder painfully, as\nI ricocheted from the edge of the opening and brought up sliding against\nthe unconscious girl; for she evidently had hit her head against the\npartition within the ship into which she had crashed.\n\nWe had made some noise within the ship. Shuffling footsteps were\napproaching down a well lit gangway.\n\n\"Any signs we have been observed?\" I asked my men on the hillsides.\n\n\"Not yet,\" I heard the Boss reply. \"Ships overhead still standing. No\nbeams have been broken out. Men on ground absorbed in wreck. Most of\nthem have crawled into it out of sight.\"\n\n\"Good,\" I said quickly. \"Deering hit her head. Knocked out. One or more\nmembers of the crew approaching. We're not discovered yet. I'll take\ncare of them. Stand a bit longer, but be ready.\"\n\nI think my last words must have been heard by the man who was\napproaching, for he stopped suddenly.\n\nI crouched at the far side of the compartment, motionless. I would not\ndraw my sword if there were only one of them. He would be a weakling, I\nfigured, and I should easily overcome him with my bare hands.\n\nApparently reassured at the absence of any further sound, a man came\naround a sort of bulkhead--and I leaped.\n\nI swung my legs up in front of me as I did so, catching him full in the\nstomach and knocked him cold.\n\nI ran forward along the keel gangway, searching for the control room. I\nfound it well up in the nose of the ship. And it was deserted. What\ncould I do to jam the controls of the ships that would not register on\nthe recording instruments of the other ships? I gazed at the mass of\ncontrols. Levers and wheels galore. In the center of the compartment, on\na massively braced universal joint mounting, was what I took for the\nrepellor generator. A dial on it glowed and a faint hum came from within\nits shielding metallic case. But I had no time to study it.\n\nAbove all else, I was afraid that some automatic telephone apparatus\nexisted in the room, through which I might be heard on the other ships.\nThe risk of trying to jam the controls was too great. I abandoned the\nidea and withdrew softly. I would have to take a chance that there was\nno other member of the crew aboard.\n\nI ran back to the entrance compartment. Wilma still lay where she had\nslumped down. I heard the voices of the Hans approaching. It was time to\nact. The next few seconds would tell whether the ships in the air would\ntry or be able to melt us into nothingness. I spoke.\n\n\"Are you boys all ready?\" I asked, creeping to a position opposite the\ndoor and drawing my hand-gun.\n\nAgain there was a chorus of assent.\n\n\"Then on the count of three, shoot up those repellor rays--all of\nthem--and for God's sake, don't miss.\" And I counted.\n\nI think my \"three\" was a bit weak. I know it took all the courage I had\nto utter it.\n\nFor an agonizing instant nothing happened, except that the landing party\nfrom the ship strolled into my range of vision.\n\nThen startled, they turned their eyes upward. For an instant they stood\nfrozen with horror at whatever they saw.\n\nOne hurled his knife at me. It grazed my cheek. Then a couple of them\nmade a break for the doorway. The rest followed. But I fired pointblank\nwith my hand-gun, pressing the button as fast as I could and aiming at\ntheir feet to make sure my explosive rockets would make contact and do\ntheir work.\n\nThe detonations of my rockets were deafening. The spot on which the Hans\nstood flashed into a blinding glare. Then there was nothing there except\ntheir torn and mutilated corpses. They had been fairly bunched, and I\ngot them all.\n\nI ran to the door, expecting any instant to be hurled into infinity by\nthe sweep of a disintegrator ray.\n\nSome eighth of a mile away I saw one of the ships crash to earth. A\ndisintegrator ray came into my line of vision, wavered uncertainly for a\nmoment and then began to sweep directly toward the ship in which I\nstood. But it never reached it. Suddenly, like a light switched off, it\nshot to one side, and a moment later another vast hulk crashed to earth.\nI looked out, then stepped out on the ground.\n\nThe only Han ships in the sky were two of the scouts to the south which\nwere hanging perpendicularly, and sagging slowly down. The others must\nhave crashed down while I was deafened by the sound of the explosion of\nmy own rockets.\n\nSomebody hit the other repellor ray of one of the two remaining ships\nand it fell out of sight beyond a hilltop. The other, farther away,\ndrifted down diagonally, its disintegrator ray playing viciously over\nthe ground below it.\n\nI shouted with exultation and relief.\n\n\"Take back the command, Boss!\" I yelled.\n\nHis commands, sending out jumpers in pursuit of the descending ship,\nrang in my ears, but I paid no attention to them. I leaped back into the\ncompartment of the Han ship and knelt beside my Wilma. Her padded helmet\nhad absorbed much of the blow, I thought; otherwise, her skull might\nhave been fractured.\n\n\"Oh, my head!\" she groaned, coming to as I lifted her gently in my arms\nand strode out in the open with her. \"We must have won, dearest, did\nwe?\"\n\n\"We most certainly did,\" I reassured her. \"All but one crashed and that\none is drifting down toward the south; we've captured this one we're in\nintact. There was only one member of the crew aboard when we dove in.\"\n\n[Illustration: As the American leaped, he swung his legs up in front of\nhim, catching the Han full in the stomach.]\n\nLess than an hour afterward the Big Boss ordered the outfit to tune in\nultrophones on three-twenty-three to pick up a translated broadcast of\nthe Han intelligence office in Nu-yok from the Susquanna station. It\nwas in the form of a public warning and news item, and read as follows:\n\n\"This is Public Intelligence Office, Nu-yok, broadcasting warning to\nnavigators of private ships, and news of public interest. The squadron\nof seven ships, which left Nu-yok this morning to investigate the recent\ndestruction of the GK-984 in the Wyoming Valley, has been destroyed by a\nseries of mysterious explosions similar to those which wrecked the\nGK-984.\n\n\"The phones, viewplates, and all other signaling devices of five of the\nseven ships ceased operating suddenly at approximately the same moment,\nabout seven-four-nine.\" (According to the Han system of reckoning time,\nseven and forty-nine one hundredths after midnight.) \"After violent\ndisturbances the location finders went out of operation. Electroactivity\nregisters applied to the territory of the Wyoming Valley remain dead.\n\n\"The Intelligence Office has no indication of the kind of disaster which\novertook the squadron except certain evidences of explosive phenomena\nsimilar to those in the case of the GK-984, which recently went dead\nwhile beaming the valley in a systematic effort to wipe out the works\nand camps of the tribesmen. The Office considers, as obvious, the\ndeduction that the tribesmen have developed a new, and as yet\nundetermined, technique of attack on airships, and has recommended to\nthe Heaven-Born that immediate and unlimited authority be given the\nNavigation Intelligence Division to make an investigation of this\ntechnique and develop a defense against it.\n\n\"In the meantime it urges that private navigators avoid this territory\nin particular, and in general hold as closely as possible to the\nofficial inter-city routes, which now are being patrolled by the entire\nforce of the Military Office, which is beaming the routes generously to\na width of ten miles. The Military Office reports that it is at present\nconsidering no retaliatory raids against the tribesmen. With the\nNavigation Intelligence Division, it holds that unless further evidence\nof the nature of the disaster is developed in the near future, the\npublic interest will be better served, and at smaller cost of life, by a\nscientific research than by attempts at retaliation, which may bring\ndestruction on all ships engaging therein. So unless further evidence\nactually is developed, or the Heaven-Born orders to the contrary, the\nMilitary will hold to a defensive policy.\n\n\"Unofficial intimations from Lo-Tan are to the effect that the\nHeaven-Council has the matter under consideration.\n\n\"The Navigation Intelligence Office permits the broadcast of the\nfollowing condensation of its detailed observations:\n\n\"The squadron proceeded to a position above the Wyoming Valley where\nthe wreck of the GK-984 was known to be, from the record of its location\nfinder before it went dead recently. There the bottom projectoscope\nrelays of all ships registered the wreck of the GK-984. Teleprojectoscope\nviews of the wreck and the bowl of the valley showed no evidence of the\npresence of tribesmen. Neither ship registers nor base registers showed\nany indication of electroactivity except from the squadron itself. On\norders from the Base Squadron Commander, the LD-248, LK-745 and LG-25\nscouted southward at 3,000 feet. The GK-43, GK-981 and GK-220 stood\nabove at 2,500 feet, and the GK-18 landed to permit personal inspection\nof the wreck by the science committee. The party debarked, leaving one\nman on board in the control cabin. He set all projectoscopes at\nuniversal focus except RB-3,\" (this meant the third projectoscope from\nthe bow of the ship, on the right-hand side of the lower deck) \"with\nwhich he followed the landing group as it walked around the wreck.\n\n\"The first abnormal phenomenon recorded by any of the instruments at\nBase was that relayed automatically from projectoscope RB-4 of the\nGK-18, which as the party disappeared from view in back of the wreck,\nrecorded two green missiles of roughly cylindrical shape, projected from\nthe wreckage into the landing compartment of the ship. At such close\nrange these were not clearly defined, owing to the universal focus at\nwhich the projectoscope was set. The Base Captain of GK-18 at once\nordered the man in the control room to investigate, and saw him leave\nthe control room in compliance with this order. An instant later\nconfused sounds reached the control-room electrophone, such as might be\nmade by a man falling heavily, and footsteps reapproached the control\nroom, a figure entering and leaving the control room hurriedly. The Base\nCaptain now believes, and the stills of the photorecord support his\nbelief, that this was not the crew member who had been left in the\ncontrol room. Before the Base Captain could speak to him he left the\nroom, nor was any response given to the attention signal the Captain\nflashed throughout the ship.\n\n\"At this point projectoscope RB-3 of the ship now out of focus control,\ndimly showed the landing party walking back toward the ship. RB-4 showed\nit more clearly. Then on both these instruments, a number of blinding\nexplosives in rapid succession were seen and the electrophone relays\nregistered terrific concussions; the ship's electronic apparatus and\nprojectoscopes apparatus went dead.\n\n\"Reports of the other ships' Base Observers and Executives, backed by\nthe photorecords, show the explosions as taking place in the midst of\nthe landing party as it returned, evidently unsuspicious, to the ship.\nThen in rapid succession they indicate that terrific explosions occurred\ninside and outside the three ships standing above close to their rep-ray\ngenerators, and all signals from these ships thereupon went dead.\n\n\"Of the three ships scouting to the south, the LD-248 suffered an\nidentical fate, at the same moment. Its records add little to the\nknowledge of the disaster. But with the LK-745 and the LG-25 it was\ndifferent.\n\n\"The relay instruments of the LK-745 indicated the destruction by an\nexplosion of the rear rep-ray generator, and that the ship hung stern\ndown for a short space, swinging like a pendulum. The forward viewplates\nand indicators did not cease functioning, but their records are chaotic,\nexcept for one projectoscope still, which shows the bowl of the valley,\nand the GK-981 falling, but no visible evidence of tribesmen. The\ncontrol-room viewplate is also a chaotic record of the ship's crew\ntumbling and falling to the rear wall. Then the forward rep-ray\ngenerator exploded, and all signals went dead.\n\n\"The fate of the LG-25 was somewhat similar, except that this ship hung\nnose down, and drifted on the wind southward as it slowly descended out\nof control.\n\n\"As its control room was shattered, verbal report from its Action\nCaptain was precluded. The record of the interior rear viewplate shows\nmembers of the crew climbing toward the rear rep-ray generator in an\nattempt to establish manual control of it, and increase the lift. The\nprojectoscope relays, swinging in wide arcs, recorded little of value\nexcept at the ends of their swings. One of these, from a machine which\nhappened to be set in telescopic focus, shows several views of great\nvalue in picturing the falls of the other ships, and all of the rear\nprojectoscope records enable the reconstruction in detail of the\npendulum and torsional movements of the ship, and its sag toward the\nearth. But none of the views showing the forest below contain any\nindication of tribesmen's presence. A final explosion put this ship out\nof commission at a height of 1,000 feet, and at a point four miles S. by\nE. of the center of the valley.\"\n\nThe message ended with a repetition of the warning to other airmen to\navoid the valley.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\nIncredible Treason\n\n\nAfter receiving this report, and reassurances of support from the Big\nBosses of the neighboring Gangs, Hart determined to reestablish the\nWyoming Valley community.\n\nA careful survey of the territory showed that it was only the northern\nsections and slopes that had been \"beamed\" by the first Han ship.\n\nThe synthetic-fabrics plant had been partially wiped out, though the\nlower levels underground had not been reached by the dis ray. The forest\nscreen above it, however, had been annihilated, and it was determined to\nabandon it, after removing all usable machinery and evidences of the\nprocesses that might be of interest to the Han scientists, should they\nreturn to the valley in the future.\n\nThe ammunition plant, and the rocket-ship plant, which had just been\nabout to start operation at the time of the raid, were intact, as were\nthe other important plants.\n\nHart brought the Camboss up from the Susquanna Works, and laid out new\ncamp locations, scattering them farther to the south, and avoiding\nground which had been seared by the Han beams and the immediate\nlocations of the Han wrecks.\n\nDuring this period, a sharp check was kept upon Han messages, for the\nphone plant had been one of the first to be put in operation, and when\nit became evident that the Hans did not intend any immediate reprisals,\nthe entire membership of the community was summoned back, and normal\nlife was resumed.\n\nWilma and I had been married the day after the destruction of the ships,\nand spent this intervening period in a delightful honeymoon, camping\nhigh in the mountains. On our return, we had a camp of our own, of\ncourse. We were assigned to location 1017. And as might be expected, we\nhad a great deal of banter over which one of us was Camp Boss. The title\nstood after my name on the Big Boss' records, and those of the Big\nCamboss, of course, but Wilma airily held that this meant nothing at\nall--and generally succeeded in making me admit it whenever she chose.\n\nI found myself a full-fledged member of the Gang now, for I had elected\nto search no farther for a permanent alliance, much as I would have\nliked to familiarize myself with this 25th Century life in other\nsections of the country. The Wyomings had a high morale, and had\nprospered under the rule of Big Boss Hart for many years. But many of\nthe gangs, I found, were badly organized, lacked strong hands in\nauthority, and were rife with intrigue. On the whole, I thought I would\nbe wise to stay with a group which had already proved its friendliness,\nand in which I seemed to have prospects of advancement. Under these\nmodern social and economic conditions, the kind of individual freedom to\nwhich I had been accustomed in the 20th Century was impossible. I would\nhave been as much of a nonentity in every phase of human relationship by\nattempting to avoid alliances, as any man of the 20th Century would have\nbeen politically, who aligned himself with no political party.\n\nThis entire modern life, it appeared to me, judging from my ancient\nviewpoint, was organized along what I called \"political\" lines. And in\nthis connection, it amused me to notice how universal had become the use\nof the word \"boss.\" The leader, the person in charge or authority over\nanything, was a \"boss.\" There was as little formality in his relations\nwith his followers as there was in the case of the 20th Century\npolitical boss, and the same high respect paid him by his followers as\nwell as the same high consideration by him of their interests. He was\njust as much of an autocrat, and just as much dependent upon the general\npopularity of his actions for the ability to maintain his autocracy.\n\nThe sub-boss who could not command the loyalty of his followers was as\nquickly deposed, either by them or by his superiors, as the ancient ward\nleader of the 20th Century who lost control of his votes.\n\nAs society was organized in the 20th Century, I do not believe the\nsystem could have worked in anything but politics. I tremble to think\nwhat would have happened, had the attempt been made to handle the A. E.\nF. this way during the First World War, instead of by that rigid\nmilitary discipline and complete assumption of the individual as a mere\nstandardized cog in the machine.\n\nBut owing to the centuries of desperate suffering the people had endured\nat the hands of the Hans, there developed a spirit of self-sacrifice and\nconsideration for the common good that made the scheme applicable and\nefficient in all forms of human co-operation.\n\nI have a little heresy about all this, however. My associates regard the\nthought with as much horror as many worthy people of the 20th Century\nfelt in regard to any heretical suggestion that the original outline of\ngovernment as laid down in the First Constitution did not apply as well\nto 20th Century conditions as to those of the early 19th.\n\nIn later years, I felt that there was a certain softening of moral fiber\namong the people, since the Hans had been finally destroyed with all\ntheir works; and Americans have developed a new luxury economy. I have\nseen signs of the reawakening of greed, of selfishness. The eternal\ncycle seems to be at work. I fear that slowly, though surely, private\nwealth is reappearing, codes of inflexibility are developing; they will\nbe followed by corruption, degradation; and in the end some cataclysmic\nevent will end this era and usher in a new one.\n\nAll this, however, is wandering afar from my story, which concerns our\nearly battles against the Hans, and not our more modern problems of\nself-control.\n\nOur victory over the seven Han ships had set the country ablaze. The\nsecret had been carefully communicated to the other gangs, and the\ncountry was agog from one end to the other. There was feverish activity\nin the ammunition plants, and the hunting of stray Han ships became an\nenthusiastic sport. The results were disastrous to our hereditary\nenemies.\n\nFrom the Pacific Coast came the report of a great transpacific liner of\n75,000 tons \"lift\" being brought to earth from a position of\ninvisibility above the clouds. A dozen Sacramentos had caught the hazy\noutlines of its rep rays approaching them, head-on, in the twilight,\nlike ghostly pillars reaching into the sky. They had fired rockets into\nit with ease, whereas they would have had difficulty in hitting it if it\nhad been moving at right angles to their position. They got one rep ray.\nThe other was not strong enough to hold it up. It floated to earth, nose\ndown, and since it was unarmed and unarmored, they had no difficulty in\nshooting it to pieces and massacring its crew and passengers. It seemed\nbarbarous to me. But then I did not have centuries of bitter persecution\nin my blood.\n\nFrom the Jersey Beaches we received news of the destruction of a\nNu-yok-A-lan-a liner. The Sand-snipers, practically invisible in their\nsand-colored clothing, and half buried along the beaches, lay in wait\nfor days, risking the play of dis beams along the route, and finally\nregistering four hits within a week. The Hans discontinued their service\nalong this route, and as evidence that they were badly shaken by our\nsuccess, sent no raiders down the Beaches.\n\nIt was a few weeks later that Big Boss Hart sent for me.\n\n\"Tony,\" he said, \"There are two things I want to talk to you about. One\nof them will become public property in a few days, I think. We aren't\ngoing to get any more Han ships by shooting up their repellor rays\nunless we use much larger rockets. They are wise to us now. They're\nputting armor of great thickness in the hulls of their ships below the\nrep-ray machines. Near Bah-flo this morning a party of Eries shot one\nwithout success. The explosions staggered her, but did not penetrate. As\nnear as we can gather from their reports, their laboratories have\ndeveloped a new alloy of great tensile strength and elasticity which\nnevertheless lets the rep rays through like a sieve. Our reports\nindicate that the Eries' rockets bounced off harmlessly. Most of the\nparty was wiped out as the dis rays went into action on them.\n\n\"This is going to mean real business for all of the gangs before long.\nThe Big Bosses have just held a national ultrophone council. It was\ndecided that America must organize on a national basis. The first move\nis to develop sectional organization by Zones. I have been made\nSuperboss of the Mid-Atlantic Zone.\n\n\"We're in for it now. The Hans are sure to launch reprisal expeditions.\nIf we're to save the race we must keep them away from our camps and\nplants. I'm thinking of developing a permanent field force, along the\nlines of the regular armies of the 20th Century you told me about. Its\nbusiness will be twofold: to carry the warfare as much as possible to\nthe Hans, and to serve as a decoy, to keep their attention from our\nplants. I'm going to need your help in this.\n\n\"The other thing I wanted to talk to you about is this: Amazing and\nimpossible as it seems, there is a group, or perhaps an entire gang,\nsomewhere among us, that is betraying us to the Hans. It may be the Bad\nBloods, or it may be one of those gangs who live near one of the Han\ncities. You know, a hundred and fifteen or twenty years ago there were\ncertain of these people's ancestors who actually degraded themselves by\nmating with the Hans, sometimes even serving them as slaves, in the days\nbefore they brought all their service machinery to perfection.\n\n\"There is such a gang, called the Nagras, up near Bah-flo, and another\nin Mid-Jersey that men call the Pineys. But I hardly suspect the Pineys.\nThere is little intelligence among them. They wouldn't have the\ninformation to give the Hans, nor would they be capable of imparting it.\nThey're absolute savages.\"\n\n\"Just what evidence is there that anybody has been clearing information\nto the Hans?\" I asked.\n\n\"Well,\" he replied, \"first of all there was that raid upon us. That\nfirst Han ship knew the location of our plants exactly. You remember it\nfloated directly into position above the valley and began a systematic\nbeaming. Then, the Hans quite obviously have learned that we are picking\nup their electrophone waves, for they've gone back to their old, but\nextremely accurate, system of directional control. But we've been\ngetting them for the past week by installing automatic re-broadcast\nunits along the scar paths. This is what the Americans called those\nstrips of country directly under the regular ship routes of the Hans,\nwho as a matter of precaution frequently blasted them with their dis\nbeams to prevent the growth of foliage which might give shelter to the\nAmericans. But they've been beaming those paths so hard, it looks as\nthough they even had information of this strategy. And in addition,\nthey've been using code. Finally, we've picked up three of their\nmessages in which they discuss, with some nervousness, the existence of\nour 'mysterious' ultrophone.\"\n\n\"But they still have no knowledge of the nature and control of ultronic\nactivity?\" I asked.\n\n\"No,\" said the Big Boss thoughtfully, \"they don't seem to have a bit of\ninformation about it.\"\n\n\"Then it's quite clear,\" I ventured, \"that whoever is 'clearing' us to\nthem is doing it piecemeal. It sounds like a bit of occasional barter,\nrather than an out-and-out alliance. They're holding back as much\ninformation as possible for future bartering, perhaps.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Hart said, \"and it isn't information the Hans are giving in\nreturn, but some form of goods, or privilege. The trick would be to\nlocate the goods. I guess I'll have to make a personal trip around among\nthe Big Bosses.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\nThe Han City\n\n\nThis conversation set me thinking. All of the Han electrophone\ninter-communication had been an open record to the Americans for a good\nmany years, and the Hans were just finding it out. For centuries they\nhad not regarded us as any sort of a menace. Unquestionably it had never\noccurred to them to secrete their own records. Somewhere in Nu-yok or\nBah-flo, or possibly in Lo-Tan itself, the record of this traitorous\ntransaction would be more or less openly filed. If we could only get at\nit! I wondered if a raid might not be possible.\n\nBill Hearn and I talked it over with our Han-affairs Boss and his\nexperts. There ensued several days of research, in which the Han records\nof the entire decade were scanned and analyzed. In the end they picked\nout a mass of detail, and fitted it together into a very definite\npicture of the great central filing office of the Hans in Nu-yok, where\nthe entire mass of official records was kept, constantly available for\ninstant projectoscoping to any of the city's offices, and of the system\nby which the information was filed.\n\nThe attempt began to look feasible, though Hart instantly turned the\nidea down when I first presented it to him. It was unthinkable, he said.\nSheer suicide. But in the end I persuaded him.\n\n\"I will need,\" I said, \"Blash, who is thoroughly familiar with the Han\nlibrary system; Bert Gaunt, who for years has specialized on their\nmilitary offices; Bill Barker, the ray specialist, and the best swooper\npilot we have.\" _Swoopers_ are one-man and two-man ships, developed by\nthe Americans, with skeleton backbones of inertron (during the war\npainted green for invisibility against the green forests below) and\n\"bellies\" of clear ultron.\n\n\"That will be Mort Gibbons,\" said Hart. \"We've only got three swoopers\nleft, Tony, but I'll risk one of them if you and the others will\nvoluntarily risk your existences. But mind, I won't urge or order one of\nyou to go. I'll spread the word to every Plant Boss at once to give you\nanything and everything you need in the way of equipment.\"\n\nWhen I told Wilma of the plan, I expected her to raise violent and\ntearful objections, but she didn't. She was made of far sterner stuff\nthan the women of the 20th Century. Not that she couldn't weep as\ncopiously or be just as whimsical on occasion; but she wouldn't weep for\nthe same reasons.\n\nShe just gave me an unfathomable look, in which there seemed to be a bit\nof pride, and asked eagerly for the details. I confess I was somewhat\ndisappointed that she could so courageously risk my loss, even though I\nwas amazed at her fortitude. But later I was to learn how little I knew\nher then.\n\nWe were ready to slide off at dawn the next morning. I had kissed Wilma\ngood-bye at our camp, and after a final conference over our plans, we\nboarded our craft and gently glided away over the tree tops on a course,\nwhich, after crossing three routes of the Han ships, would take us out\nover the Atlantic, off the Jersey coast, whence we would come up on\nNu-yok from the ocean.\n\nTwice we had to nose down and lie motionless on the ground near a route\nwhile Han ships passed. Those were tense moments. Had the green back of\nour ship been observed, we would have been disintegrated in a second.\nBut it wasn't.\n\nOnce over the water, however, we climbed in a great spiral, ten miles in\ndiameter, until our altimeter registered ten miles. Here Gibbons shut\noff his rocket motor, and we floated, far above the level of the\nAtlantic liners, whose course was well to the north of us anyhow, and\nwaited for nightfall.\n\nThen Gibbons turned from his control long enough to grin at me.\n\n\"I have a surprise for you, Tony,\" he said, throwing back the lid of\nwhat I had supposed was a big supply case. And with a sigh of relief,\nWilma stepped out of the case.\n\n\"If you 'go into zero' (a common expression of the day for being\nannihilated by the disintegrator ray), you don't think I'm going to let\nyou go alone, do you, Tony? I couldn't believe my ears last night when\nyou spoke of going without me, until I realized that you are still five\nhundred years behind the times in lots of ways. Don't you know, dear\nheart, that you offered me the greatest insult a husband could give a\nwife? You didn't, of course.\"\n\nThe others, it seemed, had all been in on the secret, and now they would\nhave kidded me unmercifully, except that Wilma's eyes blazed\ndangerously.\n\nAt nightfall, we maneuvered to a position directly above the city. This\ntook some time and calculation on the part of Bill Barker, who explained\nto me that he had to determine our point by ultronic bearings. The\nslightest resort to an electronic instrument, he feared, might be\ndetected by our enemies' locators. In fact, we did not dare bring our\nswooper any lower than five miles for fear that its capacity might be\nreflected in their instruments.\n\nFinally, however, he succeeded in locating above the central tower of\nthe city.\n\n\"If my calculations are as much as ten feet off,\" he remarked with\nconfidence, \"I'll eat the tower. Now the rest is up to you, Mort. See\nwhat you can do to hold her steady. No--here, watch this indicator--the\nred beam, not the green one. See--if you keep it exactly centered on the\nneedle, you're O.K. The width of the beam represents seventeen feet. The\ntower platform is fifty feet square, so we've got a good margin to work\non.\"\n\nFor several moments we watched as Gibbons bent over his levers,\nconstantly adjusting them with deft touches of his fingers. After a bit\nof wavering, the beam remained centered on the needle.\n\n\"Now,\" I said, \"let's drop.\"\n\nI opened the trap and looked down, but quickly shut it again when I felt\nthe air rushing out of the ship into the rarefied atmosphere in a\ntorrent. Gibbons literally yelled a protest from his instrument board.\n\n\"I forgot,\" I mumbled. \"Silly of me. Of course, we'll have to drop out\nof compartment.\"\n\nThe compartment, to which I referred, was similar to those in some of\nthe 20th Century submarines. We all entered it. There was barely room\nfor us to stand, shoulder to shoulder. With some struggles, we got into\nour special air helmets and adjusted the pressure. At our signal,\nGibbons exhausted the air in the compartment, pumping it into the body\nof the ship, and as the little signal light flashed, Wilma threw open\nthe hatch.\n\nSetting the ultron-wire reel, I climbed through, and began to slide down\ngently.\n\nWe all had our belts on, of course, adjusted to a weight balance of but\na few ounces. And the five-mile reel of ultron wire that was to be our\nguide, was of gossamer fineness, though, anyway, I believe it would have\nlifted the full weight of the five of us, so strong and tough was this\ninvisible metal. As an extra precaution, since the wire was of the\npurest metal, and therefore totally invisible, even in daylight, we all\nhad our belts hooked on small rings that slid down the wire.\n\nI went down with the end of the wire. Wilma followed a few feet above\nme, then Barker, Gaunt and Blash. Gibbons, of course, stayed behind to\nhold the ship in position and control the paying out of the line. We all\nhad our ultrophones in place inside our air helmets, and so could\nconverse with one another and with Gibbons. But at Wilma's suggestion,\nalthough we would have liked to let the Big Boss listen in, we kept them\nadjusted to short-range work, for fear that those who had been clearing\nwith the Hans, and against whom we were on a raid for evidence, might\nalso pick up our conversation. We had no fear that the Hans would hear\nus. In fact, we had the added advantage that, even after we landed, we\ncould converse freely without danger of their hearing our voices through\nour air helmets.\n\nFor a while I could see nothing below but utter darkness. Then I\nrealized, from the feel of the air as much as from anything, that we\nwere sinking through a cloud layer. We passed through two more cloud\nlayers before anything was visible to us.\n\nThen there came under my gaze, about two miles below, one of the most\nbeautiful sights I have ever seen; the soft, yet brilliant, radiance of\nthe great Han city of Nu-yok. Every foot of its structural members\nseemed to glow with a wonderful incandescence, tower piled up on tower,\nand all built on the vast base-mass of the city, which, so I had been\ntold, sheered upward from the surface of the rivers to a height of 728\nlevels.\n\nThe city, I noticed with some surprise, did not cover anything like the\nsame area as the New York of the 20th Century. It occupied, as a matter\nof fact, only the lower half of Manhattan Island, with one section\nstraddling the East River, and spreading out sufficiently over what once\nhad been Brooklyn, to provide berths for the great liners and other air\ncraft.\n\nStraight beneath my feet was a tiny dark patch. It seemed the only spot\nin the entire city that was not aflame with radiance. This was the\ncentral tower, in the top floors of which were housed the vast library\nof record files and the main projectoscope plant.\n\n\"You can shoot the wire now,\" I ultrophoned Gibbons, and let go the\nlittle weighted knob. It dropped like a plummet, and we followed with\nconsiderable speed, but braking our descent with gloved hands\nsufficiently to see whether the knob, on which a faint light glowed as a\nsignal for ourselves, might be observed by any Han guard or night\nprowler. Apparently it was not, and we again shot down with accelerated\nspeed.\n\nWe landed on the roof of the tower without any mishap, and fortunately\nfor our plan, in darkness. Since there was nothing above it on which it\nwould have been worth while to shed illumination, or from which there\nwas any need to observe it, the Hans had neglected to light the tower\nroof, or indeed to occupy it at all. This was the reason we had selected\nit as our landing place.\n\nAs soon as Gibbons had our word, he extinguished the knob light, and the\nknob, as well as the wire, became totally invisible. At our ultrophoned\nword, he would light it again.\n\n\"No gun play now,\" I warned. \"Swords only, and then only if absolutely\nnecessary.\"\n\nClosely bunched, and treading as lightly as only inertron-belted people\ncould, we made our way cautiously through a door and down an inclined\nplane to the floor below, where Gaunt and Blash assured us the military\noffices were located.\n\nTwice Barker cautioned us to stop as we were about to pass in front of\nmirror-like \"windows\" in the passage wall, and flattening ourselves to\nthe floor, we crawled past them.\n\n\"Projectoscopes,\" he said. \"Probably on automatic record only, at this\ntime of night. Still, we don't want to leave any records for them to\nstudy after we're gone.\"\n\n\"Were you ever here before?\" I asked.\n\n\"No,\" he replied, \"but I haven't been studying their electrophone\ncommunications for seven years without being able to recognize these\nmachines when I run across them.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\nThe Fight in the Tower\n\n\nSo far we had not laid eyes on a Han. The tower seemed deserted. Blash\nand Gaunt, however, assured me that there would be at least one man on\n\"duty\" in the military offices, though he would probably be asleep, and\ntwo or three in the library proper and the projectoscope plant.\n\n\"We've got to put them out of commission,\" I said. \"Did you bring the\n'dope' cans, Wilma?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" she said, \"two for each. Here,\" and she distributed them.\n\nWe were now two levels below the roof, and at the point where we were to\nseparate.\n\nI did not want to let Wilma out of my sight, but it was necessary.\n\nAccording to our plan, Barker was to make his way to the projectoscope\nplant, Blash and I to the library, and Wilma and Gaunt to the military\noffice.\n\nBlash and I traversed a long corridor, and paused at the great arched\ndoorway of the library. Cautiously we peered in. Seated at three great\nswitchboards were library operatives. Occasionally one of them would\nreach lazily for a lever, or sleepily push a button, as little numbered\nlights winked on and off. They were answering calls for electrograph and\nviewplate records on all sorts of subjects from all sections of the\ncity.\n\nI apprised my companions of the situation.\n\n\"Better wait a bit,\" Blash added. \"The calls will lessen shortly.\"\n\nWilma reported an officer in the military office sound asleep.\n\n\"Give him the can, then,\" I said.\n\nBarker was to do nothing more than keep watch in the projectoscope\nplant, and a few moments later he reported himself well concealed, with\na splendid view of the floor.\n\n\"I think we can take a chance now,\" Blash said to me, and at my nod, he\nopened the lid of his dope can. Of course, the fumes did not affect us,\nthrough our helmets. They were absolutely without odor or visibility,\nand in a few seconds the librarians were unconscious. We stepped into\nthe room.\n\nThere ensued considerable cautious observation and experiment on the\npart of Gaunt, working from the military office, and Blash in the\nlibrary; while Wilma and I, with drawn swords and sharply attuned\nmicrophones, stood guard, and occasionally patrolled nearby corridors.\n\n\"I hear something approaching,\" Wilma said after a bit, with excitement\nin her voice. \"It's a soft, gliding sound.\"\n\n\"That's an elevator somewhere,\" Barker cut in from the projectoscope\nfloor. \"Can you locate it? I can't hear it.\"\n\n\"It's to the east of me,\" she replied.\n\n\"And to my west,\" said I, faintly catching it. \"It's between us, Wilma,\nand nearer you than me. Be careful. Have you got any information yet,\nBlash and Gaunt?\"\n\n\"Getting it now,\" one of them replied. \"Give us two minutes more.\"\n\n\"Keep at it then,\" I said. \"We'll guard.\"\n\nThe soft, gliding sound ceased.\n\n\"I think it's very close to me,\" Wilma almost whispered. \"Come closer,\nTony. I have a feeling something is going to happen. I've never known my\nnerves to get taut like this without reason.\"\n\nIn some alarm, I launched myself down the corridor in a great leap\ntoward the intersection whence I knew I could see her.\n\nIn the middle of my leap my ultrophone registered her gasp of alarm. The\nnext instant I glided to a stop at the intersection to see Wilma backing\ntoward the door of the military office, her sword red with blood, and an\ninert form on the corridor floor. Two other Hans were circling to either\nside of her with wicked-looking knives, while a third evidently a high\nofficer, judging by the resplendence of his garb tugged desperately to\nget an electrophone instrument out of a bulky pocket. If he ever gave\nthe alarm, there was no telling what might happen to us.\n\nI was at least seventy feet away, but I crouched low and sprang with\nevery bit of strength in my legs. It would be more correct to say that I\ndived, for I reached the fellow head on, with no attempt to draw my legs\nbeneath me.\n\nSome instinct must have warned him, for he turned suddenly as I hurtled\nclose to him. But by this time I had sunk close to the floor, and had\nstiffened myself rigidly, lest a dragging knee or foot might just\nprevent my reaching him. I brought my blade upward and over. It was a\nvicious slash that laid him open, bisecting him from groin to chin, and\nhis dead body toppled down on me, as I slid to a tangled stop.\n\nThe other two startled, turned. Wilma leaped at one and struck him down\nwith a side slash. I looked up at this instant, and the dazed fear on\nhis face at the length of her leap registered vividly. The Hans knew\nnothing of our inertron belts, it seemed, and these leaps and dives of\nours filled them with terror.\n\nAs I rose to my feet, a gory mess, Wilma, with a poise and speed which I\nfound time to admire even in this crisis, again leaped. This time she\ndove head first as I had done and, with a beautifully executed thrust,\nran the last Han through the throat.\n\nUncertainly, she scrambled to her feet, staggered queerly, and then sank\ngently prone on the corridor. She had fainted.\n\nAt this juncture, Blash and Gaunt reported with elation that they had\nthe record we wanted.\n\n\"Back to the roof, everybody!\" I ordered, as I picked Wilma up in my\narms. With her inertron belt, she felt as light as a feather.\n\nGaunt joined me at once from the military office, and at the\nintersection of the corridor, we came upon Blash waiting for us. Barker,\nhowever, was not in evidence.\n\n\"Where are you, Barker?\" I called.\n\n\"Go ahead,\" he replied. \"I'll be with you on the roof at once.\"\n\nWe came out in the open without any further mishap, and I instructed\nGibbons in the ship to light the knob on the end of the ultron wire. It\nflashed dully a few feet away from us. Just how he had maneuvered the\nship to keep our end of the line in position, without its swinging in a\ntremendous arc, I have never been able to understand. Had not the night\nbeen an unusually still one, he could not have checked the initial\npendulum-like movements. As it was, there was considerable air current\nat certain of the levels, and in different directions too. But Gibbons\nwas an expert of rare ability and sensitivity in the handling of a\nrocket ship, and he managed, with the aid of his delicate instruments,\nto sense the drifts almost before they affected the fine ultron wire,\nand to neutralize them with little shifts in the position of the ship.\n\nBlash and Gaunt fastened their rings to the wire, and I hooked my own\nand Wilma's on, too. But on looking around, I found Barker was still\nmissing.\n\n\"Barker, come!\" I called. \"We're waiting.\"\n\n\"Coming!\" he replied, and indeed, at that instant, his figure appeared\nup the ramp. He chuckled as he fastened his ring to the wire, and said\nsomething about a little surprise he had left for the Hans.\n\n\"Don't reel in the wire more than a few hundred feet,\" I instructed\nGibbons. \"It will take too long to wind it in. We'll float up, and when\nwe're aboard, we can drop it.\"\n\nIn order to float up, we had to dispense with a pound or two of weight\napiece. We hurled our swords from us, and kicked off our shoes as\nGibbons reeled up the line a bit, and then letting go of the wire, began\nto hum upward on our rings with increasing velocity.\n\nThe rush of air brought Wilma to, and I hastily explained to her that we\nhad been successful. Receding far below us now, I could see our dully\nshining knob swinging to and fro in an ever widening arc, as it crossed\nand recrossed the black square of the tower roof. As an extra\nprecaution, I ordered Gibbons to shut off the light, and to show one\nfrom the belly of the ship, for so great was our speed now, that I began\nto fear we would have difficulty in checking ourselves. We were\nliterally falling upward, and with terrific acceleration.\n\nFortunately, we had several minutes in which to solve this difficulty,\nwhich none of us, strangely enough, had foreseen. It was Gibbons who\nfound the answer.\n\n\"You'll be all right if all of you grab the wire tight when I give the\nword,\" he said. \"First I'll start reeling it in at full speed. You won't\nget much of a jar, and then I'll decrease its speed again gradually, and\nits weight will hold you back. Are you ready? One--two--three!\"\n\nWe all grabbed tightly with our gloved hands as he gave the word. We\nmust have been rising a good bit faster than he figured, however, for it\nwrenched our arms considerably, and the maneuver set up a sickening\npendulum motion.\n\nFor a while all we could do was swing there in an arc that may have been\na quarter of a mile across, about three and a half miles above the city,\nand still more than a mile from our ship.\n\nGibbons skilfully took up the slack as our momentum pulled up the line.\nThen at last we had ourselves under control again, and continued our\nupward journey, checking our speed somewhat with our gloves.\n\nThere was not one of us who did not breathe a big sigh of relief when we\nscrambled through the hatch safely into the ship again, cast off the\nultron line and slammed the trap shut.\n\nLittle realizing that we had a still more terrible experience to go\nthrough, we discussed the information Blash and Gaunt had between them\nextracted from the Han records, and the advisability of ultrophoning\nHart at once.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nThe Walls of Hell\n\n\nThe traitors were, it seemed, a degenerate gang of Americans, located a\nfew miles north of Nu-yok on the wooded banks of the Hudson, the\nSinsings. They had exchanged scraps of information to the Hans in return\nfor several old repellor-ray machines, and the privilege of tuning in on\nthe Han electronic power broadcast for their operation, provided their\nships agreed to subject themselves to the orders of the Han traffic\noffice, while aloft.\n\nThe rest wanted to ultrophone their news at once, since there was always\ndanger that we might never get back to the gang with it.\n\nI objected, however. The Sinsings would be likely to pick up our\nmessage. Even if we used the directional projector, they might have\nscouts out to the west and south in the big inter-gang stretches of\ncountry. They would flee to Nu-yok and escape the punishment they\nmerited. It seemed to be vitally important that they should not, for the\nsake of example to other weak groups among the American gangs, as well\nas to prevent a crisis in which they might clear more vital information\nto the enemy.\n\n\"Out to sea again,\" I ordered Gibbons. \"They'll be less likely to look\nfor us in that direction.\"\n\n\"Easy, Boss, easy,\" he replied. \"Wait until we get up a mile or two\nmore. They must have discovered evidences of our raid by now, and their\ndis-ray wall may go in operation any moment.\"\n\nEven as he spoke, the ship lurched downward and to one side.\n\n\"There it is!\" he shouted. \"Hang on, everybody. We're going to nose\nstraight up!\" And he flipped the rocket-motor control wide open.\n\nLooking through one of the rear ports, I could see a nebulous, luminous\nring, and on all sides the atmosphere took on a faint iridescence.\n\nWe were almost over the destructive range of the disintegrator-ray wall,\na hollow cylinder of annihilation shooting upward from a solid ring of\ngenerators surrounding the city. It was the main defense system of the\nHans, which had never been used except in periodic tests. They may or\nmay not have suspected that an American rocket ship was within the\ncylinder; probably they had turned on their generators more as a\nprecaution to prevent any reaching a position above the city.\n\nBut even at our present great height, we were in great danger. It was a\nquestion how much we might have been harmed by the rays themselves, for\ntheir effective range was not much more than seven or eight miles. The\ngreater danger lay in the terrific downward rush of air within the\ncylinder to replace that which was being burned into nothingness by the\ncontinual play of the disintegrators. The air fell into the cylinder\nwith the force of a gale. It would be rushing toward the wall from the\noutside with terrific force also, but, naturally, the effect was\nintensified on the interior.\n\nOur ship vibrated and trembled. We had only one chance of escape--to\nfight our way well above the current. To drift down with it meant\nultimately, and inevitably, to be sucked into the destruction wall at\nsome lower level.\n\nBut very gradually and jerkily our upward movement, as shown on the\nindicators, began to increase, and after an hour of desperate struggle\nwe were free of the maelstrom and into the rarefied upper levels. The\nterror beneath us was now invisible through several layers of cloud\nformations.\n\nGibbons brought the ship back to an even keel, and drove her eastward\ninto one of the most brilliantly gorgeous sunrises I have ever seen.\n\nWe described a great circle to the south and west, in a long easy dive,\nfor he had cut out his rocket motors to save them as much as possible.\nWe had drawn terrifically on their fuel reserves in our battle with the\nelements. For the moment, the atmosphere below cleared, and we could see\nthe Jersey coast far beneath, like a great map.\n\n\"We're not through yet,\" remarked Gibbons suddenly, pointing at his\nperiscope, and adjusting it to telescopic focus. \"A Han ship, and a\n'drop ship' at that--and he's seen us. If he whips that beam of his on\nus, we're done.\"\n\nI gazed, fascinated, at the viewplate. What I saw was a cigar-shaped\nship not dissimilar to our own in design, and from the proportional size\nof its ports, of about the same size as our swoopers. We learned later\nthat they carried crews, for the most part of not more than three or\nfour men. They had streamline hulls and tails that embodied\nuniversal-jointed double fish-tail rudders. In operation they rose to\ngreat heights on their powerful repellor rays, then gathered speed\neither by a straight nose dive, or an inclined dive in which they\nsometimes used the repellor ray slanted at a sharp angle. He was already\nabove us, though several miles to the north. He could, of course, try to\nget on our tail and \"spear\" us with his beam as he dropped at us from a\ngreat height.\n\nSuddenly his beam blazed forth in a blinding flash, whipping downward\nslowly to our right. He went through a peculiar corkscrew-like\nevolution, evidently maneuvering to bring his beam to bear on us with a\nspiral motion.\n\nGibbons instantly sent our ship into a series of evolutions that must\nhave looked like those of a frightened hen. Alternately, he used the\nforward and the reverse rocket blasts, and in varying degree. We\nfluttered, we shot suddenly to right and left, and dropped like a\nplummet in uncertain movements. But all the time the Han scout dropped\ntoward us, determinedly whipping the air around us with his beam. Once\nit sliced across beneath us, not more than a hundred feet, and we\ndropped with a jar into the pocket formed by the destruction of the air.\n\nHe had dropped to within a mile of us, and was coming with the speed of\na projectile, when the end came. Gibbons always swore it was sheer luck.\nMaybe it was, but I like pilots who are lucky that way.\n\nIn the midst of a dizzy, fluttering maneuver of our own, with the Han\nship enlarging to our gaze with terrifying rapidity, and its beam slowly\nslicing toward us in what looked like certain destruction within the\nsecond, I saw Gibbons' fingers flick at the lever of his rocket gun and\na split second later the Han ship flew apart like a clay pigeon.\n\nWe staggered, and fluttered crazily for several moments while Gibbons\nstruggled to bring our ship into balance, and a section of about four\nsquare feet in the side of the ship near the stern slowly crumbled like\nrusted metal. His beam actually had touched us, but our explosive rocket\nhad got him a thousandth of a second sooner.\n\nPart of our rudder had been annihilated, and our motor damaged. But we\nwere able to swoop gently back across Jersey, fortunately crossing the\nship lanes without sighting any more Han craft, and finally settling to\nrest in the little glade beneath the trees, near Hart's camp.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\nThe New Boss\n\n\nWe had ultrophoned our arrival and the Big Boss himself, surrounded by\nthe Council, was on hand to welcome us and learn our news. In turn we\nwere informed that during the night a band of raiding Bad Bloods,\ndisguised under the insignia of the Altoonas, a gang some distance to\nthe west of us, had destroyed several of our camps before our people had\nrallied and driven them off. Their purpose, evidently, had been to\nembroil us with the Altoonas, but fortunately, one of our exchanges\nrecognized the Bad Blood leader, who had been slain.\n\nThe Big Boss had mobilized the full raiding force of the Gang, and was\non the point of heading an expedition for the extermination of the Bad\nBloods.\n\nI looked around the grim circle of the sub-bosses, and realized the fate\nof America, at this moment, lay in their hands. Their temper demanded\nthe immediate expenditure of our full effort in revenging ourselves for\nthis raid. But the strategic exigencies, to my mind, quite clearly\ndemanded the instant and absolute extermination of the Sinsings. It\nmight be only a matter of hours, for all we knew, before these degraded\npeople would barter clues to the American ultronic secrets to the Hans.\n\n\"How large a force have we?\" I asked Hart.\n\n\"Every man and maid who can be spared,\" he replied. \"That gives us seven\nhundred married and unmarried men, and three hundred girls, more than\nthe entire Bad Blood Gang. Every one is equipped with belts,\nultrophones, rocket guns and swords, and all fighting mad.\"\n\nI meditated how I might put the matter to these determined men, and was\nvaguely conscious that they were awaiting my words.\n\nFinally I began to speak. I do not remember to this day just what I\nsaid. I talked calmly, with due regard for their passion, but with deep\nconviction. I went over the information we had collected, point by\npoint, building my case logically, and painting a lurid picture of the\ndanger impending in that half-alliance between the Sinsings and the Hans\nof Nu-yok. I became impassioned, culminating, I believe, with a vow to\nproceed single-handed against the hereditary enemies of our race, \"if\nthe Wyomings were blindly set on placing a gang feud ahead of honor and\nduty and the hopes of all America.\"\n\nAs I concluded, a great calm came over me, as of one detached. I had\nfelt much the same way during several crises in the First World War. I\ngazed from face to face, striving to read their expressions, and in a\nmood to make good my threat without any further heroics, if the decision\nwas against me.\n\nBut it was Hart who sensed the temper of the Council more quickly than I\ndid, and looked beyond it into the future.\n\nHe arose from the tree trunk on which he had been sitting.\n\n\"That settles it,\" he said, looking around the ring. \"I have felt this\nthing coming on for some time now. I'm sure the Council agrees with me\nthat there is among us a man more capable than I, to boss the Wyoming\nGang, despite his handicap of having had all too short a time in which\nto familiarize himself with our modern ways and facilities. Whatever I\ncan do to support his effective leadership, at any cost, I pledge myself\nto do.\"\n\nAs he concluded, he advanced to where I stood, and taking from his head\nthe green-crested helmet that constituted his badge of office, to my\nsurprise he placed it in my mechanically extended hand.\n\nThe roar of approval that went up from the Council members left me\ndazed. Somebody ultrophoned the news to the rest of the Gang, and even\nthough the earflaps of my helmet were turned up, I could hear the cheers\nwith which my invisible followers greeted me, from near and distant\nhillsides, camps and plants.\n\nMy first move was to make sure that the Phone Boss, in communicating\nthis news to the members of the Gang, had not re-broadcast my talk nor\nmentioned my plan of shifting the attack from the Bad Bloods to the\nSinsings. I was relieved by his assurance that he had not, for it would\nhave wrecked the whole plan. Everything depended upon our ability to\nsurprise the Sinsings.\n\nSo I pledged the Council and my companions to secrecy, and allowed it to\nbe believed that we were about to take to the air and the trees against\nthe Bad Bloods.\n\nThat outfit must have been badly scared, the way they were \"burning\" the\nether with ultrophone alibis and propaganda for the benefit of the more\ndistant gangs. It was their old game, and the only method by which they\nhad avoided extermination long ago from their immediate neighbors--these\nappeals to the spirit of American brotherhood, addressed to gangs too\nfar away to have had the sort of experience with them that had fallen to\nour lot.\n\nI chuckled. Here was another good reason for the shift in my plans. Were\nwe actually to undertake the exterminations of the Bad Bloods at once,\nit would have been a hard job to convince some of the gangs that we had\nnot been precipitate and unjustified. Jealousies and prejudices existed.\nThere were gangs which would give the benefit of the doubt to the Bad\nBloods, rather than to ourselves, and the issue was now hopelessly\nbeclouded with the clever lies that were being broadcast in an unceasing\nstream.\n\nBut the extermination of the Sinsings would be another thing. In the\nfirst place, there would be no warning of our action until it was all\nover, I hoped. In the second place, we would have indisputable proof, in\nthe form of their rep-ray ships and other paraphernalia, of their\ntraffic with the Hans; and the state of American prejudice, at the time\nof which I write held trafficking with the Hans a far more heinous thing\nthan even a vicious gang feud.\n\nI called an executive session of the Council at once. I wanted to\ninventory our military resources.\n\nI created a new office on the spot, that of \"Control Boss,\" and\nappointed Ned Garlin to the post, turning over his former responsibility\nas Plants Boss to his assistant. I needed someone, I felt, to tie in the\nrecords of the various functional activities of the campaign, and take\nover from me the task of keeping the records of them up to the minute.\n\nI received reports from the bosses of the ultrophone unit, and those of\nfood, transportation, fighting gear, chemistry, electronic activity and\nelectrophone intelligence, ultroscopes, air patrol and contact guard.\n\nMy ideas for the campaign, of course, were somewhat tinged with my 20th\nCentury experience, and I found myself faced with the task of working\nout a staff organization that was a composite of the best and most\neasily applied principles of business and military efficiency, as I knew\nthem from the viewpoint of immediate practicality.\n\nWhat I wanted was an organization that would be specialized,\nfunctionally, not as that indicated above, but from the angles of:\nintelligence as to the Sinsings' activities; intelligence as to Han\nactivities; perfection of communication with my own units; co-operation\nof field command; and perfect mobilization of emergency supplies and\nresources.\n\nIt took several hours of hard work with the Council to map out the plan.\nFirst we assigned functional experts and equipment to each \"Division\" in\naccordance with its needs. Then these in turn were reassigned by the new\nDivision Bosses to the Field Commands as needed, or as Independent or\nHeadquarters Units. The two intelligence divisions were named the White\nand the Yellow, indicating that one specialized on the American enemy\nand the other on the Mongolians.\n\nThe division in charge of our own communications, the assignment of\nultrophone frequencies and strengths, and the maintenance of operators\nand equipment, I called \"Communications.\"\n\nI named Bill Hearn to the post of Field Boss, in charge of the main or\nundetached fighting units, and to the Resources Division, I assigned all\nresponsibility for what few aircraft we had; and all transportation and\nsupply problems, I assigned to \"Resources.\" The functional bosses stayed\nwith this division.\n\nWe finally completed our organization with the assignment of liaison\nrepresentatives among the various divisions as needed.\n\nThus I had a \"Headquarters Staff\" composed of the Division Bosses who\nreported directly to Ned Garlin as Control Boss, or to Wilma as my\npersonal assistant. And each of the Division Bosses had a small staff of\nhis own.\n\nIn the final summing up of our personnel and resources, I found we had\nroughly a thousand \"troops,\" of whom some three hundred and fifty were,\nin what I called the Service Divisions, the rest being in Bill Hearn's\nField Division. This latter number, however, was cut down somewhat by\nthe assignment of numerous small units to detached service. Altogether,\nthe actual available fighting force, I figured, would number about five\nhundred, by the time we actually went into action.\n\nWe had only six small swoopers, but I had an ingenious plan in my mind,\nas the result of our little raid on Nu-yok, that would make this\nsufficient, since the reserves of inertron blocks were larger than I\nexpected to find them. The Resources Division, by packing its supply\ncases a bit tight, or by slipping in extra blocks of inertron, was able\nto reduce each to a weight of a few ounces. These easily could be\nfloated and towed by the swoopers in any quantity. Hitched to ultron\nlines, it would be a virtual impossibility for them to break loose.\n\nThe entire personnel, of course, was supplied with jumpers, and if each\nman and girl was careful to adjust balances properly, the entire number\ncould also be towed along through the air, grasping wires of ultron,\nswinging below the swoopers, or stringing out behind them.\n\nThere would be nothing tiring about this, because the strain would be no\ngreater than that of carrying a one or two pound weight in the hand,\nexcept for air friction at high speeds. But to make doubly sure that we\nshould lose none of our personnel, I gave strict orders that the belts\nand tow lines should be equipped with rings and hooks.\n\nSo great was the efficiency of the fundamental organization and\ndiscipline of the Gang, that we got under way at nightfall.\n\nOne by one the swoopers eased into the air, each followed by its long\ntrain or \"kite-tail\" of humanity and supply cases hanging lightly from\nits tow line. For convenience, the tow lines were made of an alloy of\nultron which, unlike the metal itself, is visible.\n\nAt first these \"tails\" hung downward, but as the ships swung into\nformation and headed eastward toward the Bad Blood territory, gathering\nspeed, they began to string out behind. And swinging low from each ship\non heavily weighted lines, ultroscope, ultrophone, and straight-vision\nobservers keenly scanned the countryside, while intelligence men in the\nswoopers above bent over their instrument boards and viewplates.\n\nLeaving Control Boss Ned Garlin temporarily in charge of affairs, Wilma\nand I dropped a weighted line from our ship, and slid down about half\nway to the under lookouts, that is to say, about a thousand feet. The\nsensation of floating swiftly through the air like this, in the absolute\nsecurity of one's confidence in the inertron belt, was one of\nnever-ending delight to me.\n\nWe reascended into the swooper as the expedition approached the\nterritory of the Bad Bloods, and directed the preparations for the\nbombardment. It was part of my plan to appear to carry out the attack as\noriginally planned.\n\nAbout fifteen miles from their camps our ships came to a halt and\nmaintained their positions for a while with the idling blasts of their\nrocket motors, to give the ultroscope operators a chance to make a\nthorough examination of the territory below us, for it was very\nimportant that this next step in our program should be carried out with\nall secrecy.\n\nAt length they reported the ground below us entirely clear of any\nappearance of human occupation, and a gun unit of long-range specialists\nwas lowered with a dozen rocket guns, equipped with special automatic\ndevices that the Resources Division had developed at my request, a few\nhours before our departure. These were aiming and timing devices. After\ncalculating the range, elevation and rocket charges carefully, the guns\nwere left, concealed in a ravine, and the men were hauled up into the\nship again. At the predetermined hour, those unmanned rocket guns would\nbegin automatically to bombard the Bad Bloods' hillsides, shifting their\naim and elevation slightly with each shot, as did many of our artillery\npieces in the First World War.\n\nIn the meantime, we turned south about twenty miles, and grounded,\nwaiting for the bombardment to begin before we attempted to sneak across\nthe Han ship lane. I was relying for security on the distraction that\nthe bombardment might furnish the Han observers.\n\nIt was tense work waiting, but the affair went through as planned, our\nsquadron drifting across the route high enough to enable the ships'\ntails of troops and supply cases to clear the ground.\n\nIn crossing the second ship route, out along the Beaches of Jersey, we\nwere not so successful in escaping observation. A Han ship came speeding\nalong at a very low elevation. We caught it on our electronic location\nand direction finders, and also located it with our ultroscopes, but it\ncame so fast and so low that I thought it best to remain where we had\ngrounded the second time, and lie quiet, rather than get under way and\ncross in front of it.\n\nThe point was this. While the Hans had no such devices as our\nultroscopes, with which we could see in the dark (within certain\nlimitations of course), and their electronic instruments would be\nvirtually useless in uncovering our presence, since all but natural\nelectronic activities were carefully eliminated from our apparatus,\nexcept electrophone receivers (which are not easily spotted), the Hans\ndid have some very highly sensitive sound devices which operated with\ngreat efficiency in calm weather, so far as sounds emanating from the\nair were concerned. But the \"ground roar\" greatly confused their use of\nthese instruments in the location of specific sounds floating up from\nthe surface of the earth.\n\nThis ship must have caught some slight noise of ours, however, in its\nsensitive instruments, for we heard its electronic devices go into play,\nand picked up the routine report of the noise to its Base Ship\nCommander. But from the nature of the conversation, I judged they had\nnot identified it, and were, in fact, more curious about the detonations\nthey were picking up now from the Bad Blood lands some sixty miles or so\nto the west.\n\nImmediately after this ship had shot by, we took the air again, and\nfollowing much the same route that I had taken the previous night,\nclimbed in a long semi-circle out over the ocean, swung toward the north\nand finally the west. We set our course, however, for the Sinsings' land\nnorth of Nu-yok, instead of for the city itself.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\nThe Finger of Doom\n\n\nAs we crossed the Hudson River, a few miles north of the city, we\ndropped several units of the Yellow Intelligence Division, with full\ninstrumental equipment. Their apparatus cases were nicely balanced at\nonly a few ounces weight each, and the men used their chute capes to\nease their drops.\n\nWe recrossed the river a little distance above and began dropping White\nIntelligence units and a few long and short range gun units. Then we\nheld our position until we began to get reports. Gradually we ringed the\nterritory of the Sinsings, our observation units working busily and\npatiently at their locators and scopes, both aloft and aground, until\nGarlin finally turned to me with the remark:\n\n\"The map circle is complete now, Boss. We've got clear locations all the\nway around them.\"\n\n\"Let me see it,\" I replied, and studied the illuminated viewplate map,\nwith its little overlapping circles of light that indicated spots proved\nclear of the enemy by ultroscopic observation.\n\nI nodded to Bill Hearn. \"Go ahead now, Hearn,\" I said, \"and place your\nbarrage men.\"\n\nHe spoke into his ultrophone, and three of the ships began to glide in a\nwide ring around the enemy territory. Every few seconds, at the word\nfrom his Unit Boss, a gunner would drop off the wire, and slipping the\nclasp of his chute cape, drift down into the darkness below.\n\nBill formed two lines, parallel to and facing the river, and enclosing\nthe entire territory of the enemy between them. Above and below,\nstraddling the river, were two defensive lines. These latter were merely\nto hold their positions. The others were to close in toward each other,\npushing a high-explosive barrage five miles ahead of them. When the two\nbarrages met, both lines were to switch to short-vision-range barrage\nand continue to close in on any of the enemy who might have drifted\nthrough the previous curtain of fire.\n\nIn the meantime Bill kept his reserves, a picked corps of a hundred men\n(the same that had accompanied Hart and myself in our fight with the Han\nsquadron) in the air, divided about equally among the \"kite-tails\" of\nfour ships.\n\nA final roll call, by units, companies, divisions and functions,\nestablished the fact that all our forces were in position. No Han\nactivity was reported, and no Han broadcasts indicated any suspicion of\nour expedition. Nor was there any indication that the Sinsings had any\nknowledge of the fate in store for them. The idling of rep-ray\ngenerators was reported from the center of their camp, obviously those\nof the ships the Hans had given them--the price of their treason to\ntheir race.\n\nAgain I gave the word, and Hearn passed on the order to his\nsubordinates.\n\nFar below us, and several miles to the right and left, the two barrage\nlines made their appearance. From the great height to which we had\nrisen, they appeared like lines of brilliant, winking lights, and the\ndetonations were muffled by the distances into a sort of rumbling,\ndistant thunder. Hearn and his assistants were very busy: measuring,\ncalculating, and snapping out ultrophone orders to unit commanders that\nresulted in the straightening of lines and the closing of gaps in the\nbarrage.\n\nThe White Division Boss reported the utmost confusion in the Sinsing\norganization. They were, as might be expected, an inefficient, loosely\ndisciplined gang, and repeated broadcasts for help to neighboring gangs.\nIgnoring the fact that the Mongolians had not used explosives for many\ngenerations, they nevertheless jumped at the conclusion that they were\nbeing raided by the Hans. Their frantic broadcasts persisted in this\nthought, despite the nervous electrophonic inquiries of the Hans\nthemselves, to whom the sound of the battle was evidently audible, and\nwho were trying to locate the trouble.\n\nAt this point, the swooper I had sent south toward the city went into\naction as a diversion, to keep the Hans at home. Its \"kite-tail\" loaded\nwith long-range gunners, using the most highly explosive rockets we had,\nhung invisible in the darkness of the sky and bombarded the city from a\ndistance of about five miles. With an entire city to shoot at, and the\nobject of creating as much commotion therein as possible, regardless of\nactual damage, the gunners had no difficulty in hitting the mark. I\ncould see the glow of the city and the stabbing flashes of exploding\nrockets. In the end, the Hans, uncertain as to what was going on, fell\nback on a defensive policy, and shot their \"hell cylinder,\" or wall of\nupturned disintegrator rays into operation. That, of course, ended our\nbombardment of them. The rays were a perfect defense, disintegrating our\nrockets as they were reached.\n\nIf they had not sent out ships before turning on the rays, and if they\nhad none within sufficient radius already in the air, all would be well.\n\nI queried Garlin on this, but he assured me Yellow Intelligence reported\nno indications of Han ships nearer than 800 miles. This would probably\ngive us a free hand for a while, since most of their instruments\nrecorded only imperfectly or not at all, through the death wall.\n\nRequisitioning one of the viewplates of the headquarters ship, and the\nservices of an expert operator, I instructed him to focus on our lines\nbelow. I wanted a close-up of the men in action.\n\nHe began to manipulate his controls and chaotic shadows moved rapidly\nacross the plate, fading in and out of focus, until he reached an\nadjustment that gave me a picture of the forest floor, apparently 100\nfeet wide, with the intervening branches and foliage of the trees\nappearing like shadows that melted into reality a few feet above the\nground.\n\nI watched one man setting up his long-gun with skillful speed. His lips\npursed slightly as though he were whistling, as he adjusted the tall\ntripod on which the long tube was balanced. Swiftly he twirled the knobs\ncontrolling the aim and elevation of his piece. Then, lifting a belt of\nammunition from the big box, which itself looked heavy enough to break\ndown the spindly tripod, he inserted the end of it in the lock of his\ntube and touched the proper combination of buttons.\n\nThen he stepped aside, and occupied himself with peering carefully\nthrough the trees ahead. Not even a tremor shook the tube, but I knew\nthat at intervals of something less than a second, it was discharging\nsmall projectiles which, traveling under their own continuously reduced\npower, were arching into the air, to fall precisely five miles ahead and\nexplode with the force of eight-inch shells, such as we used in the\nFirst World War.\n\nAnother gunner, fifty feet to the right of him, waved a hand and called\nout something to him. Then, picking up his own tube and tripod, he\ngauged the distance between the trees ahead of him, and the height of\ntheir lowest branches, and bending forward a bit, flexed his muscles and\nleaped lightly, some twenty-five feet. Another leap took him another\ntwenty feet or so, where he began to set up his piece.\n\nI ordered my observer then to switch to the barrage itself. He got a\nclose focus on it, but this showed little except a continuous series of\nblinding flashes, which, from the viewplate, lit up the entire interior\nof the ship. An eight-hundred-foot focus proved better. I had thought\nthat some of our French and American artillery of the 20th Century had\nachieved the ultimate in mathematical precision of fire, but I had never\nseen anything to equal the accuracy of that line of terrific explosions\nas it moved steadily forward, mowing down trees as a scythe cuts grass\n(or used to 500 years ago), literally churning up the earth and the\nsplintered, blasted remains of the forest giants, to a depth of from ten\nto twenty feet.\n\nBy now the two curtains of fire were nearing each other, lines of\nvibrant, shimmering, continuous, brilliant destruction, inevitably\nsqueezing the panic-stricken Sinsings between them.\n\nEven as I watched, a group of them, who had been making a futile effort\nto get their three rep-ray machines into the air, abandoned their\nefforts, and rushed forth into the milling mob.\n\nI queried the Control Boss sharply on the futility of this attempt of\ntheirs, and learned that the Hans, apparently in doubt as to what was\ngoing on, had continued to \"play safe,\" and broken off their power\nbroadcast, after ordering all their own ships east of the Alleghenies to\nthe ground, for fear these ships they had traded to the Sinsings might\nbe used against them.\n\nAgain I turned to my viewplate, which was still focussed on the central\nsection of the Sinsing works. The confusion of the traitors was entirely\nthat of fear, for our barrage had not yet reached them.\n\nSome of them set up their long-guns and fired at random over the barrage\nline, then gave it up. They realized that they had no target to shoot\nat, no way of knowing whether our gunners were a few hundred feet or\nseveral miles beyond it.\n\nTheir ultrophone men, of whom they did not have many, stood around in\ntense attitudes, their helmet phones strapped around their ears,\nnervously fingering the tuning controls at their belts. Unquestionably\nthey must have located some of our frequencies, and overheard many of\nour reports and orders. But they were confused and disorganized. If they\nhad an Ultrophone Boss they evidently were not reporting to him in an\norganized way.\n\nThey were beginning to draw back now before our advancing fire. With\nintermittent desperation, they began to shoot over our barrage again,\nand the explosions of their rockets flashed at widely scattered points\nbeyond. A few took distance \"pot shots.\"\n\nOddly enough it was our own forces that suffered the first casualties in\nthe battle. Some of these distance shots by chance registered hits,\nwhile our men were under strict orders not to exceed their barrage\ndistances.\n\nSeen upon the ultroscope viewplate, the battle looked as though it were\nbeing fought in daylight, perhaps on a cloudy day, while the explosions\nof the rockets appeared as flashes of extra brilliance.\n\nThe two barrage lines were not more than five hundred feet apart when\nthe Sinsings resorted to tactics we had not foreseen. We noticed first\nthat they began to lighten themselves by throwing away extra equipment.\nA few of them in their excitement threw away too much, and shot suddenly\ninto the air. Then a scattering few floated up gently, followed by\nincreasing numbers, while still others, preserving a weight balance,\njumped toward the closing barrages and leaped high, hoping to clear\nthem. Some succeeded. We saw others blown about like leaves in a\nwindstorm, to crumple and drift slowly down, or else to fall into the\nbarrage, their belts blown from their bodies.\n\nHowever, it was not part of our plan to allow a single one of them to\nescape and find his way to the Hans. I quickly passed the word to Bill\nHearn to have the alternate men in his line raise their barrages and\nheard him bark out a mathematical formula to the Unit Bosses.\n\nWe backed off our ships as the explosions climbed into the air in\nstagger formation until they reached a height of three miles. I don't\nbelieve any of the Sinsings who tried to float away to freedom\nsucceeded.\n\nBut we did know later, that a few who leaped the barrage got away and\nultimately reached Nu-yok.\n\nIt was those who managed to jump the barrage who gave us the most\ntrouble. With half of our long-guns turned aloft, I foresaw we would not\nhave enough to establish successive ground barrages and so ordered the\nbarrage back two miles, from which positions our \"curtains\" began to\nclose in again, this time, however, gauged to explode, not on contact,\nbut thirty feet in the air. This left little chance for the Sinsings to\nleap either over or under it.\n\nGradually, the two barrages approached each other until they finally\nmet, and in the grey dawn the battle ended.\n\nOur own casualties amounted to forty-seven men in the ground forces,\neighteen of whom had been slain in hand to hand fighting with the few of\nthe enemy who managed to reach our lines, and sixty-two in the crew and\n\"kite-tail\" force of swooper No. 4, which had been located by one of\nthe enemy's ultroscopes and brought down with long-gun fire.\n\nSince nearly every member of the Sinsing Gang had, so far as we knew,\nbeen killed, we considered the raid a great success.\n\nIt had, however, a far greater significance than this. To all of us who\ntook part in the expedition, the effectiveness of our barrage tactics\ndefinitely established a confidence in our ability to overcome the Hans.\n\nAs I pointed out to Wilma:\n\n\"It has been my belief all along, dear, that the American explosive\nrocket is a far more efficient weapon than the disintegrator ray of the\nHans, once we can train all our gangs to use it systematically and in\nco-ordinated fashion. As a weapon in the hands of a single individual,\nshooting at a mark in direct line of vision, the rocket-gun is inferior\nin destructive power to the dis ray, except as its range may be a little\ngreater. The trouble is that to date it has been used only as we used\nour rifles and shot guns in the 20th Century. The possibilities of its\nuse as artillery, in laying barrages that advance along the ground, or\nclimb into the air, are tremendous.\n\n\"The dis ray inevitably reveals its source of emanation. The rocket gun\ndoes not. The dis ray can reach its target only in a straight line. The\nrocket may be made to travel in an arc, over intervening obstacles, to\nan unseen target.\n\n\"Nor must we forget that our ultronists now are promising us a perfect\nshield against the dis ray in inertron.\"\n\n\"I tremble though, Tony dear, when I think of the horrors that are ahead\nof us. The Hans are clever. They will develop defenses against our new\ntactics. And they are sure to mass against us not only the full force of\ntheir power in America, but the united forces of the World Empire. They\nare a cowardly race in one sense, but clever as the very Devils in Hell,\nand inheritors of a calm, ruthless, vicious persistency.\"\n\n\"Nevertheless,\" I prophesied, \"the Finger of Doom points squarely at\nthem today, and unless you and I are killed in the struggle, we shall\nlive to see America blast the Yellow Blight from the face of the Earth.\"\n\n\nTHE END.\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber's Note:\n\n    This etext was produced from _Amazing Stories_ August 1928.\n    Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.\n    copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and\n    typographical errors have been corrected without note.\n\n\n\n\n\nEnd of Project Gutenberg's Armageddon--2419 A.D., by Philip Francis Nowlan\n\nNow, answer the question based on the story asconcisely as you can, using a single phrase if possible. Do not provide any explanation.\n\nQuestion: What gang did Rodgers and the other humans fight while he was at the camp?\n\nAnswer:"}
{"question_id": 135, "category": "longbench_narrativeqa", "reference": ["The slime gets into Dana's apartment from the bathtub."], "prompt": "You are given a story, which can be either a novel or a movie script, and a question. Answer the question asconcisely as you can, using a single phrase if possible. Do not provide any explanation.\n\nStory: \t\t\t\t\t\tGhostbusters II\n\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\tby\n\t\t\t\t\t\tHarold Ramis\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\tand\n\t\t\t\t\t\tDan Aykroyd\n\n\t\t\t\t\t September 29, 1988\n\t\t\t\tLast revised Feburary 27, 1989\n\n\n<b>EXT.  MANHATTAN ISLAND - DAY\n</b>\nA high AERIAL SHOT of the island features the Statue of Liberty\nprominently in the foreground then TRAVELS ACROSS the harbor, OVER the\nBattery and Lower Manhattan to Greenwich Village.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - DAY\n</b>\nA car is being hoisted up by a municipal tow truck while its owner is\nhaving a terrible screaming arguement with a parking enforcement officer.\nDANA BARRETT comes home pushing a baby buggy, struggling with two full\nbags of groceries, and trying to dig her keys out of her purse. The\n\nbuilding superintendent FRANK, sees her struggling but pretends not to\nnotice.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (exasperated)\n\t\t\tFrank, do you think you could give me a hand\n\t\t\twith these bags?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\tI'm not a doorman, Miss Barrett.  I'm a\n\t\t\tbuilding superintendent.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tYou're also a human being, Frank.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reluctantly going to help)\n\t\t\tOkay, okay.  It's not my job, but what the\n\t\t\thell.  I'll do you a favor.  He takes the\n\t\t\tgrocery bags from her.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (setting the wheel brakes on\n\t\t\t\t the buggy)\n\t\t\tThank you, Frank.  I'll get the hang of this\n\t\t\teventually.\n\nShe continues digging in her purse while Frank leans over the buggy and\nmakes funny faces at the baby, OSCAR, a very cute nine-month old boy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the baby)\n\t\t\tHiya, Oscar.  What do you say, slugger?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tThat's a good-looking kid you got there, Ms.\n\t\t\tBarrett.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (finding her keys)\n\t\t\tThank you, Frank.  Oh, are you ever going to\n\t\t\tfix the radiator in my bedroom?  I asked you\n\t\t\tlast week.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\tDidn't I do it?\n\n<b>BABY BUGGY\n</b>\nIt starts to vibrate as if shaken by an unseen hand.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - BABY - DAY\n</b>\nHe GURGLES with delight at the movement.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - DANA AND FRANK - DAY\n</b>\nNeither of them notice the movement of the carriage.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tNo, you didn't, Frank.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, that's no problem.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThat's exactly what you said last week.\n\n<b>BUGGY WHEELS\n</b>\nThe brakes unlock themselves.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe reaches for the handlebar of the buggy, but the buggy rolls forward\njust out of her reach and stops.  Surprised by the movement, she reaches\nfor the handlebar again, but this time the buggy rolls away even\nfurther.  Alarmed now, Dana hurries after it, but the buggy keeps\nrolling down the street at ever increasing speed.\n\n<b>SIDEWALK\n</b>\nDana chases the buggy down the street, shouting to passing pedestrians\nfor help, but every time someone reaches out to stop it, the buggy\nswerves and continues unchecked.\n\n<b>INTERSECTION\n</b>\nCars, trucks, and buses speed by in both directions as the buggy races\ntoward the corner.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe puts her head down and sprints after the buggy like an Olympian.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - INTERSECTION - DAY\n</b>\nA city bus is on a collision course with the speeding baby buggy.\n\n<b>BUGGY\n</b>\nIt careens toward the corner.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - BABY - DAY\n</b>\nIts eyes are wide open with excitement.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - INTERSECTION - DAY\n</b>\nBus and buggy are closing fast as the buggy bounces over the curb and\ninto the crosswalk.\n\n<b>BUS\n</b>\nThe bus driver reacts in helpless horror as he sees the buggy enter the\nintersection at high speed.\n\n<b>BUGGY\n</b>\nIt comes to a dead stop right in the middle of the street.  The bus\ncontinues missing the buggy by inches.\n\n<b>INTERSECTION\n</b>\nCars and trucks swerve and hit their brakes as Dana runs into the\nintersection and snatches up the baby.  She hugs it close, deeply\nrelieved, then looks at the buggy with the dawning awareness that the\nsupernatural has re-entered her life.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  UPPER WEST SIDE - NEW YORK CITY STREET - GHOSTBUSTERS LOGO - DAY\n</b>\nTHEME MUSIC kicks in strongly as we see the familiar \"No Ghosts\" symbol\nand PULL BACK to reveal that it's painted on the side of Ecto-1, the\nGhostbusters' emergency vehicle, which is speeding up Broadway on the\nUpper West Side.  RAY STANTZ is driving and WINSTON ZEDDEMORE is riding\nshotgun.\n\n<b>EXT.  WEST 77TH STREET - DAY  (MOMENTS LATER)\n</b>\nThe Ectomobile pulls up in front of a carefully-restored brownstone.\nStantz and Winston, wearing their official Ghostbuster uniforms, jump\nout of the old ambulance, shoulder their proton packs and enter the\nhouse.\n\n<b>INT.  BROWNSTONE - DAY  (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nA WOMAN greets them and leads them through the expensively-furnished\nhouse.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (all business)\n\t\t\tHow many of them are there, ma'am?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWOMAN\n</b>\t\t\tFourteen.  They're in the back.  I hope you can\n\t\t\thandle them.  It's been like a nightmare.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tHow big are they?\n\nShe holds her hand out indicating about four feet.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (resolute)\n\t\t\tWe'll do our best, ma'am.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWOMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThey're right out here.\n\nShe leads them to a set of French doors that open into another room.\nStantz and Winston pause to make final adjustments to their equipment.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tReady?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tI'm ready.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThen let's do it.\n\nHe pushes through the French doors and they step into the room.\n\n<b>INT.  BROWNSTONE - DAY  (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThey are immediately attacked by fourteen or fifteen screaming KIDS\nbetween the ages of seven and ten.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tKIDS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (disappointed)\n\t\t\tGhostbusters!!  Boooo!!\n\nTables are set with party favors, ice cream and birthday cake and the\nroom is strewn with discarded toys and games.  A couple of weary parents\nsink onto lawn chairs as Stantz and Winston take over the party.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (trying his best)\n\t\t\tHow you doin', kids?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLITTLE BOY\n</b>\t\t\t\t (nasty)\n\t\t\tI though we were having He-Man.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tHe-Man couldn't make it today.  That's why\n\t\t\twe're here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tBOY\n</b>\t\t\tMy dad says you're full of crap.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (stopped cold)\n\t\t\tWell, a lot of people have trouble believing\n\t\t\tin the paranormal.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tBOY\n</b>\t\t\tNo, he just says you're full of crap and that's\n\t\t\twhy you went out of business.\n\nHe kicks Stantz in the leg.  Stantz grabs him by the shirtfront.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (low and menacing)\n\t\t\tI'm watching you.\n\t\t\t\t (to Winston)\n\t\t\tSong.\n\nWinston switches on a tiny TAPE RECORDER which starts PLAYING the\nGhostbusters THEME SONG. Stantz and WInston start singing\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ AND WINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t'There's something wrong in the neighborhood.\n\t\t\tWho you gonna call?'\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tKIDS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (all together)\n\t\t\tHe-Man!!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. WEST 77TH STREET - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nStantz and Winston wearily load their equipment into the Ectomobile.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tThat's it, Ray.  I've had it.  No more parties.\n\t\t\tI'm tired of taking abuse from over-privileged\n\t\t\tnine-year-olds.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tCome on, Winston.  We can't quit now.  The\n\t\t\tholidays are coming up.  It's our best season.\n\nThey get in the car\n\n<b>INT.  ECTO-1 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nStantz tries to start the car, but the engine won't turn over.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tGive it up, Ray.  You're living in the past.\n\t\t\tGhostbusters doesn't exist anymore.  In a year\n\t\t\tthese kids won't even remember who we are.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (tries to start the car again)\n\t\t\tUngrateful little Yuppie larvae.  After all we\n\t\t\tdid for this city.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, what did we do, Ray?  The last real job\n\t\t\twe had we bubbled up a hundred foot marshmallow\n\t\t\tman and blew the top three floors off an uptown\n\t\t\thighrise.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, but what a ride.  You can't make a\n\t\t\thamburger without chopping up a cow.\n\nHe turns the key again, the ENGING TURNS OVER, then starts GRINDING and\nCLUNKING disastrously, chewing up vital parts and dropping twisted bits\nof metal onto the pavement.  Finally, with a BLAST of black sooty\nexhaust from the tailpipe, Ecto-1 shudders and dies.  Frustrated, Stantz\nbangs his head lightly on the steering wheel\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  WKRR-TV STUDIO RECEPTION AREA - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nA bank of monitors in the lobby show the program now running on WKRR,\nChannel 10 in New York. We PUSH IN ON one of the monitors as a title\ncard and logo come up accompanied by some EERIE SYNTHESIZER MUSIC, and\nwe return to the show in progress: \"World of the Psychic with Dr. Peter\nVenkman.\"  There is a video dissolve to a standard talk show set and\nsitting there is our host PETER VENKMAN, the renowned and somewhat\ninfamous ex-Ghostbuster.\n\n<b>VENKMAN\n</b>\nHe turns TO CAMERA and talks to his viewers in a suavely engaging tone,\nunderstated and intimate.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHi, welcome back to the 'World of the Psychic,'\n\t\t\tI'm Peter Venkman and I'm chatting with my guest,\n\t\t\tauthor, lecturer and of course, psychic, Milton\n\t\t\tAnglund.\n\t\t\t\t (to his guest)\n\t\t\tMilt, your new book is called The End of the\n\t\t\tWorld.  Isn't that kind of like writing about\n\t\t\tgum disease.  Yes, it could happen, but do you\n\t\t\tthink anybody wants to read a book about it?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMILTON\n</b>\t\t\tWell, I think it's important for people to know\n\t\t\tthat the world is in danger.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, so can you tell us when it's going to\n\t\t\thappen or do we have to buy the book?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMILTON\n</b>\t\t\tI predict that the world will end at the\n\t\t\tstroke of midnight on New Year's Eve.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThis year?  That's cutting it a little close,\n\t\t\tisn't it?  I mean, just from a sales point of\n\t\t\tview, the book just came out, right?  So you're\n\t\t\tnot even looking at the paperback release for\n\t\t\tmaybe a year.  And it's going to be at least\n\t\t\tanother year after that if the thing has\n\t\t\tmovie-of-the-week or mini-series potential.\n\t\t\tYou would have been better off predicting 1992\n\t\t\tor even '94 just to be safe.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMILTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (irritated)\n\t\t\tThis is not just some money-making scheme!  I\n\t\t\tdidn't just make up the date.  I have a strong\n\t\t\tpsychic belief that the world will end on New\n\t\t\tYear's Eve.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (placating)\n\t\t\tWell, for your sake, I hope you're right.  But\n\t\t\tI think my other guest may disagree with you.\n\t\t\tElaine, you had another date in mind?\n\nThe CAMERA REVEALS ELAINE, an attractive, aggressive New Jersey\nhousewife, sitting on the other side of Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tELAINE\n</b>\t\t\tAccording to my sources, the world will end\n\t\t\ton February 14, in the year 2016.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tValentine's Day.  That's got to be a bummer.\n\t\t\tWhere did you get that date, Elaine?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tELAINE\n</b>\t\t\tI received this information from an alien.  I\n\t\t\twas at the Paramus Holiday Inn, I was having\n\t\t\ta drink in the bar when he approached me and\n\t\t\tstarted talking.  Then he must have used some\n\t\t\tsort of ray or a mind control device because\n\t\t\the made me follow him to his room and that's\n\t\t\twhere he told me about the end of the world.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYour alien had a room in the Holiday Inn?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tELAINE\n</b>\t\t\tIt may have been a room on the spacecraft made\n\t\t\tup to look like a room in the Holiday Inn.  I\n\t\t\tcan't be sure, Peter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (humoring her)\n\t\t\tNo, you can't, and I think that's the whole\n\t\t\tproblem with aliens; you just can't trust them.\n\t\t\tYou may get some nice ones occasionally like\n\t\t\tStarman or E.T., but most of them turn out to\n\t\t\tbe some kind of lizard.  Anyway, we're just\n\t\t\tabout out of time.\n\t\t\t\t (does his wrap-up right TO\n\t\t\t\t the CAMERA)\n\t\t\tNext week on 'World of the Psychic,' hairless\n\t\t\tpets.\n\t\t\t\t (holds up a hairless cat)\n\t\t\tUntil then, this is Peter Venkman saying ...\n\t\t\t\t (puts a finger to his temple\n\t\t\t\t and sends out a though to his\n\t\t\t\t viewers)\n\t\t\t... Good night.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT. TV STUDIO - CORRIDOR - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nVenkman comes out of the studio squabbling with his producer, NORMAN, a\nwell-meaning young incompetent.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhere do you find these people?  I thought\n\t\t\twe were having the telekinetic guy who bends\n\t\t\tthe spoons?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tNORMAN\n</b>\t\t\tA lot of the better psychics won't come on the\n\t\t\tshow.  They think you're too skeptical.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSkeptical!  Norman, I'm a pushover.  I think\n\t\t\tprofessional wrestling is real.\n\nThere is a small commotion down the hall as two plainclothes cops come\nout of the next studio followed by a group of mayoral assistants.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Norman)\n\t\t\tWhat's all this?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tNORMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThey just interviewed the mayor on 'Cityline.'\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThe Mayor!  He's a friend of mine.\n\nVenkman starts down the hall as the MAYOR and his principal aide, JACK\nHARDEMEYER, come walking out of the studio.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (calling to the Mayor)\n\t\t\tLenny!\n\nThe Mayor sees Venkman, blanches and hurries off, pretending not to know\nhim.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (starts to follow him)\n\t\t\tLenny!  It's Pete Venkman!\n\nThe plainclothesmen cut Venkman off and Hardemeyer puts a heavy hand\nagainst Venkman's chest.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (snide)\n\t\t\tCan I help you?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (dangerous)\n\t\t\tYeah, you can get your hand off my chest.\n\nHardemeyer smiles and drops his hand.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tI'm Jack Hardemeyer.  I'm the mayor's assistant.\n\t\t\tWhat can I do for you?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm an old friend of the mayor's.  I just\n\t\t\twant to say hello to him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (scornful)\n\t\t\tI know who you are, Doctor Venkman.  Busting\n\t\t\tany ghosts lately?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNo, that's what I want to talk to the mayor\n\t\t\tabout.  We did a little job for the city a\n\t\t\twhile back and we ended up getting sued,\n\t\t\tscrewed and tattooed by deskworms like you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (bristling)\n\t\t\tLook, you stay away from the mayor.  Next fall,\n\t\t\tbarring a disaster, he's going to be elected\n\t\t\tgovernor of this state and the last thing we\n\t\t\tneed is for him to be associated with two-bit\n\t\t\tfrauds and publicity hounds like you and your\n\t\t\tfriends.  You read me?\n\nHardemeyer walks off with the two cops.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, I get it.  But I want you to tell Lenny\n\t\t\tthat, because of you, I'm not voting for him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. MANHATTAN MUSEUM OF ART - DAY\n</b>\nThe broad front steps of the museum are crowded with tourists and\nvisitors.  Dana arrives carrying a portfolio and artist's tackle box and\nenters the museum.\n\n<b>INT. MUSEUM - RESTORATION STUDIO - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nWe are FULL-FRAME ON a larger-than-life, full-figure portrait of VIGO\nTHE CARPATHIAN, a demented and sadistic 16th century despot with an\nincredibly powerful evil presence.  Then we PULL BACK to reveal the\nstudio, which is a large open space on the top floor of the museum, lit\nby large skylights in the ceiling.  Working on the Vigo painting is\nJANOSZ POHA, a youngish art historian and painter, the head of the\ndepartment, quirky, intense and somewhat creepy.  Janosz is staring\nlongingly across the room at Dana.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe is carefully cleaning a 19th Century landscape painting, still\npreoccupied by the extraordinary near-accident with the buggy.  Janosz\nwatches her for a moment, then comes up behind her and looks over her\nshoulder.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with an East European accent)\n\t\t\tStill working on the Turner?\n\nDana jumps, startled by the intrusion.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tOh, yes, I got in a little late this morning,\n\t\t\tJanosz.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou know, you are really doing very good work\n\t\t\there.  I think soon you may be ready to assist\n\t\t\tme in some of the more important restorations.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThank you, Janosz.  I've learned a lot here,\n\t\t\tbut now that my baby's a little older, I was\n\t\t\thoping to rejoin the orchestra.\n\n<b>VIGO PAINTING\n</b>\nAt the mention of Dana's baby, the figure of Vigo miraculously turns his\nhead and looks at Dana.\n\n<b>JANOSZ AND DANA\n</b>\nNeither of them notice the movement in the painting.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (disappointed)\n\t\t\tWe'll be very sorry to lose you.  Perhaps I\n\t\t\tcould take you to lunch today?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tActually, I'm not eating lunch today.  I have\n\t\t\tan appointment.\n\t\t\t\t (looks at her watch)\n\t\t\tIn fact, I'd better go.\n\nShe starts gathering up her things.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tEvery day I ask you, and every day you've got\n\t\t\tsomething else to do.  Do I have bad breath\n\t\t\tor something?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (trying to brush him off)\n\t\t\tI'm sorry.  Perhaps some other time.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, I'll take a raincheck on that.\n\nJanosz smiles at her as she exits, then goes back to his easel.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to himself)\n\t\t\tI think she likes me.\n\nHe switches on an English language TAPE and starts practicing the\nphrases as he resumes working.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. UNIVERSITY - DAY\n</b>\nDana Barrett crosses the quad and enters a modern building.  A sign\nidentifies it as \"The Institute for Advanced Theoretical Research.\"\n\n<b>INT. UNIVERSITY - DAY (A LITTLE LATER)\n</b>\nDana is explaining the buggy incident to EGON SPENGLER, the soberly\nintellectual techno-wizard and former Ghostbuster, as he conducts an\nexperiment assisted by a research team of graduate students, all of whom\nare Japanese, Chinese, or Korean.  The device he is testing is a black\nbox about the size of a Sony Watchman with both digital and graphic\ndisplays.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t... and then the buggy just suddenly stopped\n\t\t\tdead in the middle of the street\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\n\t\t\tDid anyone else see this happen?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHundreds of people.  Believe me, I didn't\n\t\t\timagine this.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI'm not saying you did.  In science we always\n\t\t\tlook for the simplest explanation.\n\nAn ASSISTANT interrupts.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tASSISTANT\n</b>\t\t\tWe're ready, Dr. Spengler\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Assistant)\n\t\t\tWe'll start with the negative calibration.\n\nHe picks up the device and prepares to test it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (curious)\n\t\t\tWhat are you working on, Egon?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI'm trying to determine whether human\n\t\t\temotional states have a measurable effect on\n\t\t\tthe psychomagnetheric energy field.  It's a\n\t\t\ttheory Ray and I were working on when we had\n\t\t\tto dissolve Ghostbusters.\n\nAn assistant draws a curtain revealing a large picture window, actually\na two-way mirror, that looks into a small waiting room.  Inside the\nwaiting room they can see but not hear a youngish couple having a heated\narguement.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tThey think they're here for marriage\n\t\t\tcounseling.  We've kept them waiting for two\n\t\t\thours and we've been gradually increasing the\n\t\t\ttemperature in the room.\n\t\t\t\t (checking a heat sensor)\n\t\t\tIt's up to 95 degrees at the moment.  Now my\n\t\t\tassistant is going to enter and ask them if\n\t\t\tthey'd mind waiting another half-hour.\n\nAs Spengler, Dana, and the research team watch, the assistant enters the\nwaiting room and tells the couple about the new delay.  They explode\nwith anger both at him and each other while Spengler monitors them\nthrough the glass.  After recording his readings, he returns to his\nAssistant.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWe'll do the happiness index next.\n\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tI'd like to bring Ray in on your case, if\n\t\t\tit's all right with you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, whatever you think -- but not Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tOh no.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (affectedly casual)\n\t\t\tDo you ever see him?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tOccasionally\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHow is he these days?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tVenkman?  I think he was borderline for a\n\t\t\twhile there.  Then he crossed the border.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tDoes he ever mention me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tNo.  Not that I can recall.\n\nThey move to another two-way mirror through which they can see a lovely\nlittle girl playing with a wonderful array of toys.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (slightly disappointed)\n\t\t\tWell, we didn't part on very good terms and\n\t\t\twe sort of lost track of each other when I\n\t\t\tgot married.\n\nThe Assistant interrupts again.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tASSISTANT\n</b>\t\t\tWe're ready for the affection test.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the assistant)\n\t\t\tGood.  Send in the puppy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (continuing)\n\t\t\tI thought of calling him after my marriage\n\t\t\tended, but --.  Anyway, I appreciate you're\n\t\t\tdoing this, Egon\n\nThey watch as another assistant enters the playroom with an adorable\nCocker Spaniel puppy and gives it to the little girl.  Spengler monitors\nher as she jumps for joy and hugs the little dog.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (handing him a card)\n\t\t\tThis is my address and telephone number.\n\t\t\tWill you call me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tCertainly.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tEgon, I'd rather you didn't mention any of\n\t\t\tthis to Peter if you don't mind.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI won't.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThank you.\n\nShe shakes his hand and exits.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to his assistant)\n\t\t\tNow let's see how she reacts when we take\n\t\t\taway the puppy\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. RAY'S OCCULT BOOK STORE - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nIt's a small basement shop located on a quaint commercial block in\nGreenwich Village.  The window is crowded with occult artifacts and old\nbooks full of arcane metaphysical lore.  The TELEPHONE RINGS.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (v.o., answering the phone)\n\t\t\tRay's Occult.\n\n<b>INT. RAY'S OCCULT BOOKS - CONTINUOUS\n</b>\nThe shelves are jammed floor to ceiling with books on the paranormal.\nRay sits on a barstool behind the counter wearing an old cardigan\nsweater over a T-shirt.  He has on a pair of reading glasses and chews\non a battered, reeking pipe.  As he talks on the phone he prepares a cup\nof herb tea for Spengler who is thumbing through an arcane text.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on the phone)\n\t\t\tYeah ... mmhmm ... What do you need? ... What\n\t\t\thave I got?  I've got alchemy, astrology,\n\t\t\tapparitions, Bundu Magic Men, demon\n\t\t\tintercession, U.F.O. abductions, psychic\n\t\t\tsurgery, stigmata, modern miracles, pixie\n\t\t\tsightings, golden geese, geists, ghosts, I've\n\t\t\tgot it all -- what are you looking for? ...\n\t\t\tDon't have any.  Try the stockyards.\n\nHe hangs up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWho was that?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tSome crank.  Looking for goat hooves.  Come\n\t\t\tup with anything?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (referring to the book)\n\t\t\tThis one's interesting.  Berlin, 1939, a\n\t\t\tflower cart took off by itself and rolled\n\t\t\tapproximately half a kilometer over level\n\t\t\tground.  Three hundred eyewitnesses.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou might want to check those Duke University\n\t\t\tmean averaging studies on controlled\n\t\t\tpsychokinesis.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (going to the stacks)\n\t\t\tGood idea.\n\nThe bones hanging over the door rattle as Venkman enters the shop.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOh, hello, perhaps you could help me.  I'm\n\t\t\tlooking for an aerosol love potion I could\n\t\t\tspray on a certain Penthouse Pet that would\n\t\t\tmake her unconditionally submit to an unusual\n\t\t\tpersonal request.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOh, hiya, Pete.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo, no goat hooves, huh?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (strung)\n\t\t\tI knew that voice sounded familiar.  What's\n\t\t\tup?  How's it going?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNowhere -- fast.  Why don't you lock up and\n\t\t\tbuy me a sub?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (slightly evasive)\n\t\t\tUh, I can't.  I'm kind of working on something.\n\nSpengler steps out of the stacks.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tEgon!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tHello, Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHow've you been?  How's teaching?  I bet\n\t\t\tthose science chicks really dig that big\n\t\t\tcranium of yours, huh?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI think they're more interested in my\n\t\t\tepididymis.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI don't even want to know where that is.\n\nVenkman steps behind the counter and takes a beer from Ray's mini-fridge.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOh, your book came in, Venkman.  Magical\n\t\t\tPaths to Fortune and Power.\n\nHe hands Venkman the book.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tGreat.\n\t\t\t\t (reading the contents)\n\t\t\tSo what are you guys working on?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOh, just checking something for an old friend.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWho?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (at a loss)\n\t\t\tWho?  Just -- someone we know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOh, Ray --\n\nHe grabs Stantz by both ears and pulls up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWho?  Who?  Who?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tAaah!  Nobody!  I can't tell you!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWho, Ray?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (giving in)\n\t\t\tDana!  Dana Barrett!\n\nVenkman lets go of his ears and smiles.  Spengler looks at Stantz and\nshakes his head.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT. DANA'S APARTMENT - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThe apartment is old and creatively furnished with a comfortable mix of\nmodern and traditional pieces.  Maria, a young Hispanic woman who does\nday care for Dana, is feeding the baby in the kitchen when the DOORBELL\n<b>RINGS.\n</b>\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\nDana enters from the bedroom and crosses to the front door.  She opens\nit and admits Ray and Egon.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (hugging Ray)\n\t\t\tHi, Ray.  It's good to see you.  Thanks for\n\t\t\tcoming.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo problem.  Always glad to help -- and hug.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Spengler)\n\t\t\tHi, Egon.\n\nShe shakes his hand and is about to close the door when Venkman appears\nin the doorway.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHi, Dana.\n\nDana is caught completely off guard by Venkman's surprise appearance.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI knew you'd come crawling back to me.\n\nShe regards him coolly, as always amused and amazed at his\npresumptuousness.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHello, Peter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tYou know, Dana, I'm very very hurt that you\n\t\t\tdidn't call me first.  I'm still into all\n\t\t\tthis stuff, you know.  Haven't you ever seen\n\t\t\tmy show?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI have.  That's why I didn't call you first.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI can see that you're still very bitter about\n\t\t\tus, but in the interest of science, I'm going\n\t\t\tto give it my best shot.  Let's go to work,\n\t\t\tboys.\n\nStantz and Spengler begin a comprehensive parapsychological work-up on\nthe baby and the immediate physical environment.\n\n<b>VENKMAN AND DANA\n</b>\nVenkman starts nosing around the apartment.  Dana follows him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo what happened to Mr. Right?  I hear he\n\t\t\tditched you and the kid and moved to Europe.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHe didn't \"ditch\" me.  We had some problems,\n\t\t\the got a good offer from an orchestra in\n\t\t\tEngland and he took it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHe ditched you.  You should've married me,\n\t\t\tyou know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tYou never asked me, and every time I brought\n\t\t\tit up you'd get drowsy and fall asleep.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tMen are very sensitive, you know.  We need to\n\t\t\tfeel loved and desired, too.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tWell, when you started introducing me as \"the\n\t\t\told ball and chain,\" that's when I left.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI may have a few personal problems but one thing\n\t\t\tI am is a total professional.\n\nHe leaves her and crosses to Spengler.\n\n<b>SPENGLER\n</b>\nHe's taking a complete set of body and head measurements of the baby\nwith a tape measure and calipers.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat are you going to do, Egon?  Knit him a\n\t\t\tsnowsuit?\n\nSpengler ignores the remark and hands Venkman a specimen jar.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI'd like to have a stool specimen\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, you would.  Is that for personal or\n\t\t\tprofessional reasons?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (picking up the baby)\n\t\t\tOkay, kid.  Up you go.\n\nHe starts clowning with the baby, holding him over his head and pressing\nhis nose into the baby's belly, pretending that the baby is attacking\nhim.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHelp!  Please somebody help me!  Get him off!\n\t\t\tQuickly!  He's gone completely berserk!\n\nDana is amused and somewhat disarmed by Venkman's rapport with the baby.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tWhat do you think?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThere's no doubt about it.  He's got his\n\t\t\tfather's looks.  The kid is ugly -- extremely\n\t\t\tugly.  And smelly.\n\t\t\t\t (resumes playing with the baby)\n\t\t\tYou stink!  It's just horrible.  You are the\n\t\t\tstinkiest baby I ever smelled.\n\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tWhat's his name?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHis name is Oscar.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOscar!  You poor kid!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (losing patience)\n\t\t\tPeter, this is serious.  I need to know if you\n\t\t\tthink there's anything unusual about him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tUnusual?\n\t\t\t\t (holds up the baby and\n\t\t\t\t scrutinizes him)\n\t\t\tI don't know.  I haven't had a lot of\n\t\t\texperience with babies.\n\nHe looks at the baby, pulling his feet up, trying to get the sleeper\noff.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (taking the specimen jar)\n\t\t\tI'll do it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'll supervise.\n\n<b>INT. DANA'S APARTMENT - NURSERY - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nVenkman enters and finds Stantz monitoring the room.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tWell, Holmes, what do you think?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt's an interesting one, Pete.  If anything\n\t\t\twas going on it's totally subdued now.\n\nSpengler enters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Spengler)\n\t\t\tWhat now, Brainiac?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI think we should see if we can find\n\t\t\tanything abnormal on the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tFinding something abnormal on the street\n\t\t\tshouldn't be too hard.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. EAST 77TH STREET - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nDana walks down the street with Venkman, retracing the path of the\nrunaway buggy.  Spengler and Stantz follow, monitoring PKE valences from\nthe pavement and the buildings.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Dana, nostalgic)\n\t\t\tBrings back a lot of sweet memories, doesn't\n\t\t\tit?\n\t\t\t\t (pointing out familiar\n\t\t\t\t neighborhood sights)\n\t\t\tThere's our old cash machine.  And the dry\n\t\t\tcleaners we used to go to.  And the old\n\t\t\tvideo store.\n\t\t\t\t (he wipes away an imaginary\n\t\t\t\t tear)\n\t\t\tWe really had some good times, didn't we?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tWe definitely had a moment or two.\n\nDana stops at the intersection and points to the middle of the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThat's where the buggy stopped.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, let's take a look.\n\nVenkman walks right out into the middle of the street, completely\noblivious to the CARS HONKING and whizzing past him and starts motioning\nlike a traffic cop, bringing traffic to a standstill.  Then he signals\nfor Dana, Stantz and Spengler to join him in the middle of the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reading the PKE meter)\n\t\t\tIs this the spot?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tA little to the left.  Right there!  That's\n\t\t\twhere it stopped.\n\nStantz reads the PKE meter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNothing.  Not a trace.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWhy don't we try the Giga-meter?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat's that?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tEgon and I have been working on a gauge to\n\t\t\tmeasure psychomagnetheric energy in GEVs -\n\t\t\tgiga electron volts.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tThat's a thousand million electron volts.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI knew that.\n\nSpengler switches on the Giga-meter, the device he was testing in the\nlab, and passes it over the spot on the street where the buggy stopped.\nThe indicator goes right into the red zone and the DEVICE starts CLICKING\n<b>WILDLY.\n</b>\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI think we hit the honeypot, boys.  There's\n\t\t\tsomething brewing under the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (worried, to Venkman)\n\t\t\tPeter, do you think maybe I have some genetic\n\t\t\tproblem or something that makes me vulnerable\n\t\t\tto these supernatural things.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou mean like the time you got possessed and\n\t\t\tturned into a monster terror dog?  No, not\n\t\t\ta chance.  Total coincidence.\n\t\t\t\t (to Stantz and Spengler)\n\t\t\tAm I right?\n\nStantz and Spengler look at him skeptically, not convinced by the\ncoincidence theory.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MANHATTAN MUSEUM OF ART - LATE AFTERNOON\n</b>\nThe museum has just closed for the day and the last of the visitors and\nemployees are leaving.\n\n<b>INT.  RESTORATION STUDIO - SAME TIME\n</b>\nJanosz is working late on the painting of Vigo.\n\n<b>VIGO PAINTING\n</b>\nUnnoticed by Janosz, the eyes of Vigo start to glow.\n\n<b>JANOSZ\n</b>\nHe touches his brush to the canvas and a powerful current of red,\ncrackling energy surges through the brush and courses through his body,\ndriving him to his knees.\n\n<b>PAINTING\n</b>\nThe figure of Vigo comes to life, turns toward Janosz and gestures\ndramatically at him.  Then he speaks to Janosz in a commanding voice.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tI, Vigo, the scourge of Carpathia, the\n\t\t\tsorrow of Moldavia, command you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (in agony)\n\t\t\tCommand me, lord.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tOn a mountain of skulls in a castle of pain,\n\t\t\tI sat on a throne of blood.  What was will\n\t\t\tbe, what is will be no more.  Now is the\n\t\t\tseason of evil.  Find me a child that I might\n\t\t\tlive again.\n\nBolts of red-hot energy shoot from the eyes of Vigo into Janosz's eyes.\nHe screams and falls to his knees.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. COFFEE SHOP - EAST 77TH STREET - NIGHT\n</b>\nVenkman and Stantz come out with small boxes containing coffee,\nsandwiches and Danish and start walking up the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI love this.  We're onto something really\n\t\t\tbig.  I can smell it, Ray.  We're going to\n\t\t\tmake some headlines with this one.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tHey, hey, hey, stresshound!  Are you nuts?\n\t\t\tIf anybody found out about this we'd be in\n\t\t\tserious trouble.  The judge couldn't have\n\t\t\tbeen clearer - no ghostbusting.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tRelax.  We're going to keep this whole thing\n\t\t\tnice and quiet, low key, no profile.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nSpengler, wearing a hardhat, is JACKHAMMERING a hole in the middle of the\nstreet.  Safety cones and reflectors have been set up and a small area is\nlit by strong work lights.\n\n<b>POLICE CAR\n</b>\nIt turns onto East 77th Street, cruises slowly up to the makeshift\nworksite and stops.  The noise of the JACKHAMMER is so loud, Spengler\ndoesn't notice the police car and the two COPS inside looking at them.\nFinally, he looks up, sees the police car and freezes.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRST COP\n</b>\t\t\tHow ya doing?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reeking with guilt)\n\t\t\tFine!  It's cutting fine now.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRST COP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (curious)\n\t\t\tWhy are you cutting?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (looking for one of the\n\t\t\t\t others)\n\t\t\tWhy are we cutting?  Uh - boss!\n\nVenkman and Stantz arrive just in time wearing Con Ed hardhats, doing a\ngood imitation of a Consolidated Edison repairman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRST COP\n</b>\t\t\tWhat are you doing here?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (belligerent)\n\t\t\tWhat the hell's it look like we're doing?\n\t\t\tWe're bustin out asses over here 'cause\n\t\t\tsome douchebag downtown ain't got nothin'\n\t\t\tbetter to do than make idiots like us work\n\t\t\tlate on a Friday night, right?\n\t\t\t\t (looks to Spengler for\n\t\t\t\t agreement)\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with a \"right on\" fist)\n\t\t\tYo.\n\nThe cops seem satisfied by the explanation.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRST COP\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, boys, take it easy.\n\nThey drive off.  Spengler breathes a great sigh of relief and starts\nrubbing his sore shoulders.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tYou were supposed to help me with this.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou need the exercise.\n\nStantz resumes JACKHAMMERING, while Venkman and Spengler clear the\nrubble from the hole.  Suddenly he hits metal.  They clear away\ngenerations of paving material revealing an ornate iron manhole cover.\nThe manhole cover bears a strange logo and the letters NYPRR.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (examing it)\n\t\t\tNYPRR.  What the hell -- ?  Help me lift\n\t\t\tthis.\n\nThey prey off the iron cover with crowbars, uncovering a very dark and\nvery deep abyss.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shining a flashlight into\n\t\t\t\t the hole)\n\t\t\tWow!  It's an old airshaft.  It just goes\n\t\t\tforever.\n\nSpengler leans in with the giga-meter which is reading even higher now.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tVery intense.  We need a deeper reading.\n\t\t\tSomebody has to go down there.\n\nVenkman and Spengler both look at Ray.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThanks, boys.\n\nThey snap Stantz into a harness and lower him into the hole on a strong\ncable attached to a winch.  Ray calls out orders to them as he descends\ndeeper and deeper.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\t\t (his voice echoing in the\n\t\t\t\t airshaft)\n\t\t\tKeep going -- more -- more --\n\n<b>INT.  HOLE - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nStantz rappels off the sides of the airshaft as he continues his descent\nin total darkness.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (using a radio now)\n\t\t\tLower -- lower --\n\t\t\t\t (to himself)\n\t\t\tGee, this really is deep.\n\nSuddenly, his feet kick thin air as he gets to the bottom of the airshaft\nand swings free in some kind of tunnel.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouts)\n\t\t\tHold it!  Steady!\n\nHe pulls a powerful flashlight from his utility belt and shines it into\nthe tunnel below.\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - STANTZ'S POV - NIGHT\n</b>\nHe is suspended near the top of a beautifully preserved chamber with\nrounded, polished tile walls ardorned with intricate, colorfully enameled\nArt Nouveau mosaics.  A finely inlaid sign identifies it as VAN HORNE\n<b>STATION.\n</b>\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe pans the walls with his flashlight, admiring the excellent tilework,\nand speaks quietly to Venkman and Spengler over his walkie-talkie.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reverently)\n\t\t\tThis is it, boys, the end of the line.  Van\n\t\t\tHorne Station.  The old New York Pneumatic.\n\t\t\tIt's still here.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - HOLE - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nVenkman has no idea what he's talking about.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (explaining)\n\t\t\tThe New York Pneumatic Railway.  It was an\n\t\t\texperimental subway system.  Fan-forced\n\t\t\tair-trains, built around 1870.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (over the walkie-talkie)\n\t\t\tThis is about as deep as you can go under\n\t\t\tManhattan without digging your own hole.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tWhat's the reading?\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nStantz shines his flashlight on the meter and whistles at the extremely\nhigh reading.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on the radio)\n\t\t\tOff the top of the scale.  This place is\n\t\t\treally hot.  Lower me to the floor.\n\nAs Venkman and Spengler feed him some more cable, he pans his flashlight\ndown the wall of the station, then onto the floor.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouts)\n\t\t\tHold it!!  Stop!!  Whoa!!\n\n<b>INT. VAN HORNE STATION - STANTZ'S POV - FLOOR - NIGHT\n</b>\nBelow him is a river of bubbling seething, glowing slime, a veritable\ntorrent of disgusting ooze.\n\nAs he stares into the foul effluent, we become aware of the strangely\namplified and magnified sounds of great ENGINES THROBBING and pulsing in\nthe bowels of the city, of WATER RUSHING through pipes, STEAM HISSING\nthrough ducts, the muffled RUMBLE of the SUBWAY and the ROAR of TRAFFIC,\nand mixed with it all, the unmistakable sounds of human conflict and pain\n-- VOICES SHOUTING in anger, SCREAMING in fear, GROANING in pain, a sad\nand eerie symphony.\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - STANTZ - NIGHT\n</b>\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (ranting on the radio)\n\t\t\tOh, my God!  It's a seething, bubbling,\n\t\t\tpsychic cess!  Interlocked tubes of plasm,\n\t\t\tcrackling with negative GEVs!  It's glowing\n\t\t\tand moving!  It's -- it's a river of slime!!\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe dangles from the end of the cable, holding his feet up as high as he\ncan.  He unhooks a device from his utility belt and pulls the trigger on\nit, shooting out a long telescoping fishing-pole with a scoop on the end.\nReaching down, he scoops up a sample of the slime and starts retracting\nthe pole.\n\n<b>SLIME\n</b>\nSuddenly, a grotesque arm with a long skeletal fingers reaches up out of\nthe slime and snatches at Stantz's dangling feet.  He jerks his legs up\nas several more arms poke up out of the slime and reach for him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on the radio)\n\t\t\tHaul me up, Venkman!  Now!\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - HOLE - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nVenkman and Spengler start hauling in the cable as a Con Ed Supervisor's\ncar drives up, and behind it, the same police car they saw earlier.  A\nburly SUPERVISOR gets out and crosses toward them, followed by the two\ncops.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSUPERVISOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (no nonsense)\n\t\t\tOkay, what's the story here?\n\nVenkman and Spengler stop pulling up the cable and Venkman tries the\nbelligerent worker ploy again, only this time he's wearing a Nynex\nhardhat.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat, I got time for this?  We got three\n\t\t\tthousand phones out in the Village and about\n\t\t\teight million miles of cable to check.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSUPERVISOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (not buying it)\n\t\t\tThe phone lines are over there.\n\t\t\t\t (points to the curb)\n\nVenkman pops Spengler on the head.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI told ya!\n\nStantz can be heard ranting over Venkman's walkie-talkie.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\t\t (filtered)\n\t\t\tHelp!  Help!  Pull me up!  It's alive!  It's\n\t\t\teating my boots.\n\nVenkman switches off the walkie-talkie.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRST COP\n</b>\t\t\tYou ain't with Con Ed or the phone company.\n\t\t\tWe checked.  Tell me another one.\n\nVenkman stares at the Cop for a long moment.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tGas leak?\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - SAME TIME\n</b>\nStantz is hanging there, looking down into the shaft at the slime which\nis now bubbling up the shaft after him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouting)\n\t\t\tGet me out of here!!\n\nDesperate now, he kicks wildly and knocks loose a section of an old,\nrusting conduit.\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - BOTTOM OF THE SHAFT\n</b>\nThe conduit falls on a heavy electrical transmission line, ripping\nthrough the cable with a SHOWER OF SPARKS.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - HOLE - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n</b>\nVenkman, Spengler, the cops and the supervisor all react to a bright\nFLASH deep down in the hole and a SHOUT from Stantz.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - STREET - NIGHT\n</b>\nOne by one, all the streetlights go out; then the lights on all the\nbuildings along East 77th street; then the whole neighborhood blacks\nout, and finally the entire city is plunged into darkness.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\tSorry.\n\n<b>INT. DANA BARRETT'S APARTMENT - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nShe walks around in the dark lighting candles and placing them all over\nthe living room.  Then she finds a transistor radio and turns it on for\ninformation about the blackout.  She listens to a special news report\nfor a moment, then has a compelling impulse to go check on the baby.\nShe crosses to the nursery carrying a candle and quietly opens the door\nand looks in.  Suddenly the DOORBELL RINGS, scaring her half to death.\nLeaving the chain on the door, she opens it a crack and sees Janosz\nstanding in the hall, eerily lit by a red emergency spot at the end of\nthe hallway.  He looks slightly dazed and even creepier.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (surprised)\n\t\t\tJanosz?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tHello, Dana.  I happened to be in the\n\t\t\tneighborhood and I thought I'd stop by to\n\t\t\tsee if everything's all right with you --\n\t\t\tyou know, with the blackout and everything?\n\t\t\tAre you okay?  Is the baby all right?\n\nHis affected concern is chilling.  She is frightened but conceals it\nfrom him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (mechanically and cautiously)\n\tWe're fine, Janosz.\n\nHe tires to look around her into the apartment.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tDo you need anything?  You want me to come\n\t\t\tin?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tNo, everything's fine.  Honestly.  Thanks\n\t\t\tanyway.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, just thought I'd check.  Good night,\n\t\t\tDana.  Sleep well.  Don't let the bedbugs\n\t\t\tbite you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tGood night, Janosz.\n\nShe closes the door behind him and double locks it, then stands there\nstaring into the candlelight, alone and afraid.\n\n<b>INT.  HALLWAY OF DANA'S BUILDING - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nJanosz stands there in semi-darkness, then his eyes light up like\nheadlights and he walks off down the hall.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - WITNESS STAND - NEXT DAY\n</b>\nThe JUDGE, a rather sour-looking jurist of the old school, calls the\ncourt to order.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tI want to make one thing very clear before\n\t\t\twe go any further.  The law does not recognize\n\t\t\tthe existence of ghosts, and I don't believe\n\t\t\tin them either, so I don't want to hear a\n\t\t\tlot of malarkey about goblins and spooks and\n\t\t\tdemons.  We're going to stick to the facts\n\t\t\tin this case and save the ghost stories for\n\t\t\tthe kiddies.  Understood?\n\n<b>DEFENSE TABLE\n</b>\nStantz leans over and whispers to Spengler.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tSeems like a pretty open-minded guy, huh?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tHis nickname is \"The Hammer.\"\n\nStantz and Spengler are seated with their attorney LOUIS TULLY, lawyer,\nCPA and former demonic possession victim.  Louis is desperately paging\nthrough a mountain of legal textbooks.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (nervous)\n\t\t\tI think you're making a big mistake here,\n\t\t\tfellas.  I do mostly tax law and some probate\n\t\t\tstuff occasionally.  I got my law degree at\n\t\t\tnight school.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThat's all right.  We got arrested at night.\n\n<b>SPECTATORS' GALLERY\n</b>\nVenkman is talking to Dana at the wooden rail in front of the gallery.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI wish I could stay.  I feel personally\n\t\t\tresponsible for you being here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou are personally responsible.  If I can\n\t\t\tget conjugal rights, will you visit me at\n\t\t\tSing Sing?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tPlease don't say that.  You won't go to prison.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDon't worry about me.  I'm like a cat.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tYou mean you cough up hairballs all over\n\t\t\tthe rug?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm El Gato.  I always land on my feet.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (sincerely)\n\t\t\tGood luck.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThanks.\n\nShe gives him a quick, unexpected kiss and exits.  Venkman savors it for\na moment then goes back to the defense table.\n\n<b>PROSECUTION TABLE\n</b>\nJack Hardemeyer, the mayor's principal aide, is goading the PROSECUTOR,\na very sober, humorless woman in her late thirties.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tHow are you doing, hon?  Just put these guys\n\t\t\taway fast and make sure they go away for a\n\t\t\tlong, long time.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tIt shouldn't be hard with this list of charges.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tGood.  Very good.  The mayor and future\n\t\t\tgovernor won't forget this.\n\nHe smiles conspiratorially and makes a point of passing the defense table\non his way out of the courtroom.\n\n<b>DEFENSE TABLE\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters look up as Hardemeyer approaches.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (gloating)\n\t\t\tNice going, Venkman.  Violating a judicial\n\t\t\trestraining order, willful destruction of\n\t\t\tpublic property, fraud, malicious mischief\n\t\t\t-- smooth move.  See you in a couple years\n\t\t\t-- at your first parole hearing.\n\nHerdemeyer exits.  Louis looks devastated.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tGee, the whole city's against us.  I think\n\t\t\tI'm going to be sick.\n\nSpengler hands him a waste basket as the Prosecutor calls her first\nwitness.\n\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - WITNESS STAND - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThe Con Ed Supervisor is testifying.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tMr. Fianella, please look at Exhibits A\n\t\t\tthrough F on the table over there.  Do you\n\t\t\trecognize that equipment?\n\n<b>EXHIBIT TABLE\n</b>\nLying on the table are the basic tools of the Ghostbusting trade: three\nproton packs and particle throwers, a couple of ghost traps, and various\nmeters and detection devices.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCON ED\n</b>\t\t\t\t (o.c.)\n\t\t\tThat's the stuff the cops found in their\n\t\t\ttruck.\n\n<b>WITNESS STAND\n</b>\nShe continues.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tDo you know what this equipment is used for?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCON ED\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shrugs)\n\t\t\tI don't know.  Catching ghosts, I guess.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Judge)\n\t\t\tMay I remind the court that the defendants\n\t\t\tare under a judicial restraining order that\n\t\t\tspecifically forbids them from performing\n\t\t\tservices as paranormal investigators and\n\t\t\teliminators.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tSo noted.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tNow, Mr. Fianella, can you identify the\n\t\t\tsubstance in the jar on the table marked\n\t\t\tExhibit F?\n\n<b>PROSECUTOR\n</b>\nShe goes to the exhibit table and picks up a specimen jar containing the\nslime sample Stantz removed from the tunnel.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCON ED\n</b>\t\t\tI been working underground for Con Ed for\n\t\t\t27 years and I never saw anything like that\n\t\t\tin my life.  We checked out that tunnel the\n\t\t\tnext day and we didn't find nothing.  If it\n\t\t\twas down there, they must have put it there.\n\n<b>DEFENSE TABLE\n</b>\nVenkman and Spengler look at Stantz.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (defensively)\n\t\t\tHey, I didn't imagine it.  There must have\n\t\t\tbeen ten thousand gallons of it down there.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tIt may be ebbing and flowing from some tidal\n\t\t\tsource.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (nervously)\n\t\t\tShould I say that?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI doubt that they'd believe us.\n\nLouis moans and goes back to his notes.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t WIPE TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - WITNESS STAND - LATER\n</b>\nVenkman himself is on the stand and Louis is questioning him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tSo like you were just trying to help out\n\t\t\tyour old friend because she was scared and\n\t\t\tyou didn't really mean to do anything bad\n\t\t\tand you really love the city and won't ever\n\t\t\tdo anything like this again, right?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tObjection, your Honor.  He's leading the\n\t\t\twitness.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tThe witness is leading him.  Sustained.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, let me rephrase that question.\n\t\t\t\t (to venkman)\n\t\t\tDidn't you once coach a basketball team for\n\t\t\tunderprivileged children?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYes, I did.  We were city champs.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tObjection.  Irrelevant and immaterial.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tSustained.  Mr. Tully, do you have anything\n\t\t\tto ask this witness that may have some\n\t\t\tbearing on this case?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Venkman)\n\t\t\tDo I?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I think you've helped them enough already.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Judge)\n\t\t\tNo, I guess not.\n\t\t\t\t (to the Prosecutor)\n\t\t\tYour witness.\n\nThe Prosecutor rises and approaches the witness stand with relish.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tSo, Dr. Venkman, please explain to the court\n\t\t\twhy it is you and your co-defendants took it\n\t\t\tupon yourselves to dig a big hole in the\n\t\t\tmiddle of the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSeventy-seventh and First Avenue has so many\n\t\t\tholes already we didn't think anyone would\n\t\t\tnotice.\n\nThe gallery laughs and the Judge gavels for order.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tKeep that up, mister, and I'll find you in\n\t\t\tcontempt.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSorry, your Honor, but when somebody sets\n\t\t\tme up like that I can't resist.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tI'll ask you again, Dr. Venkman.  Why were\n\t\t\tyou digging the hole?  And please remember\n\t\t\tthat you're under oath.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI had my fingers crossed when they swore me\n\t\t\tin, but I'm going to tell you the truth.\n\t\t\tThere are things in this world that go way\n\t\t\tbeyond human understanding, things that\n\t\t\tcan't be explained and that most people don't\n\t\t\twant to know about anyway.  That's where we\n\t\t\tcome in.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tSo what are you saying?  That the world of\n\t\t\tthe supernatural is your special province?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I guess I'm just saying that shit happens\n\t\t\tand somebody has to deal with it.\n\nThe spectators in the gallery cheer and the judge gavels for order.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t WIPE TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - LATER\n</b>\nThe trial is nearing its end.  The Judge calls on Louis to make his\nsummation.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tDoes the counsel for the defense wish to\n\t\t\tmake any final arguements?\n\nLouis rises.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tYour honor, may I approach the bench?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (impatient)\n\t\t\tYes.\n\nLouis crosses to the judge's bench.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the judge)\n\t\t\tCan I have some of your water?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tGet on with it, counselor!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (scared)\n\t\t\tYour honor, ladies and gentlemen of the --\n\t\t\t\t (he remembers there's no\n\t\t\t\t jury)\n\t\t\taudience.  I don't think it's fair to call\n\t\t\tmy clients frauds.  Okay, the blackout was\n\t\t\ta big problem for everybody.  I was stuck in\n\t\t\tan elevator for about three hours and I had\n\t\t\tto go to the bathroom the whole time, but I\n\t\t\tdon't blame them because once I turned into\n\t\t\ta dog and they helped me.  Thank you.\n\nHe goes back to the defense table and sits down.  Stantz and Spengler\nhang their heads.  Venkman pats Louis on the back.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Louis)\n\t\t\tWay to go.  Concise and to the point.\n\n<b>JUDGE\n</b>\nHe stares at Louis, astonished at his summation.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tThat's it?  That's all you have to say?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tDid I forget something?\n\nHe searches through a disorderly pile of notes.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tThat was unquestionably the worst\n\t\t\tpresentation of a case I've ever heard in a\n\t\t\tcourt of law!  I ought to cite you for\n\t\t\tcontempt and have you disbarred.  As for\n\t\t\tyour clients, Peter Venkman, Raymond Stantz\n\t\t\tand Egon Spengler, on the charges of\n\t\t\tconspiracy, fraud and the willful destruction\n\t\t\tof public property, I find you guilty on all\n\t\t\tcounts.  I order you to pay fines in the\n\t\t\tamount of $25,000 each and I sentence you to\n\t\t\teighteen months in the city correctional\n\t\t\tfacility at Ryker's Island.\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe sees the activity in the jar\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tUh-oh, she's twitchin'.\n\n<b>THE BENCH\n</b>\nThe Judge continues\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tAnd on a more personal note, let me go on\n\t\t\trecord as saying that there is no place in\n\t\t\tdecent society for fakes, charlatans and\n\t\t\ttricksters like you who prey on the\n\t\t\tgullibility of innocent people.  You're\n\t\t\tbeneath the contempt of this court.  And\n\t\t\tbelieve me, if my hands were not tied by the\n\t\t\tunalterable fetters of the law, a law which\n\t\t\thas become in my view far too permissive and\n\t\t\tinadequate in it's standards of punishment,\n\t\t\tI would invoke the tradition of our\n\t\t\tillustrious forebearers, reach back to a\n\t\t\tsterner, purer justice and have you burned\n\t\t\tat the stake!\n\nHe hammers the bench with his gravel as the gallery erupts noisily.  Then\nhe feels a LOW RUMBLING TREMOR in the courtroom.\n\n<b>SPECIMEN JAR\n</b>\nThe slime starts to pulse and swell, pushing up the lid on the jar.\n\n<b>DEFENSE TABLE\n</b>\nStantz anticipates big trouble.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tUnder the table, boys!\n\nThe Ghostbusters duck under the defense table.\n\n<b>LOUIS\n</b>\nHe stands up and looks around fearfully.\n\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - GHOST BATTLE - DAY\n</b>\nEverybody is silent now as the rumbling increases.  All eyes turn to the\nexhibit table.  Then suddenly all Hell breaks loose as TWO FULL-TORSO\nAPPARITIONS explode out of the specimen jar.\n\n<b>JUDGE\n</b>\nHe looks up in terror at the two huge apparitions looming above him and\nrecognizes them immediately.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (in horror)\n\t\t\tOh, my God!  The Scoleri Brothers!\n\n<b>SCOLERI BROTHERS\n</b>\nBig in life, even bigger in death, the ghostly Scoleri brothers seem ten\nfeet tall.  They are strapped into electric chairs and on their heads are\nmetal electrocution caps with live, sparking electrical wires still\nattached.  Twenty-five hundred volts of electricity shoot through their\nbodies as they start to break free of the leather restraints, trying to\nget at the Judge.\n\n<b>JUDGE\n</b>\nHolding his gavel like a pitiful weapon, he crawls over to the defense\ntable where Venkman, Stantz and Spengler are now crouched, assessing the\nspectral intruders.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (terrified)\n\t\t\tYou've got to do something!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWho are they?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tThey're the Scoleri Brothers.  I tried them\n\t\t\tfor murder.  They were electrocuted up at\n\t\t\tOssining in '48.  Now they want to kill me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tMaybe they just want to appeal.\n\n<b>SCOLERI BROTHERS\n</b>\nThey break loose from the electric chairs, then turn toward the defense\ntable and BLAST it with HIGH-VOLTAGE FINGER-LIGHTNING.\n\n<b>PROSECUTOR\n</b>\nShe sprints for the door, pursued by one of the Scoleri brothers.\n\n<b>GHOSTBUSTERS\n</b>\nThey jump to safety behind the rail of the jury box, pulling the Judge\nwith them.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThese boys aren't playing around.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (desperately)\n\t\t\tYou've got to stop them.  Please!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (thinking like a lawyer)\n\t\t\tViolating a judicial restraining order could\n\t\t\texpose my clients to serious criminal\n\t\t\tpenalties.  As their attorney I'd have to\n\t\t\tadvise them against it.\n\n<b>SCOLERI BROTHERS\n</b>\nThey start punching through the jury box.\n\n<b>JUDGE\n</b>\nHe is just about hysterical with fear.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tAll right!  All right!  I'm recinding the\n\t\t\torder.  Case dismissed!!\n\t\t\t\t (he pounds his gavel on\n\t\t\t\t the floor)\n\t\t\tNow do something!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tLet's go to work, boys.\n\nWith that, the Ghostbusters leap over the rail of the jury box and dash\nacross the courtroom to the exhibit table where their proton packs were\nbeing displayed as evidence.  They strap them on hastily as the Brothers\ncontinue tearing up the seats looing for the Judge.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (slinging the pack onto\n\t\t\t\t his back)\n\t\t\tGeez, I forgot how heavy these things are.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (grabbing other gear)\n\t\t\tOkay, let's heat 'em up!\n\nThey flip the power switches on their packs and draw their particle\nthrowers.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tAll right, throwers.  Set for full neutronas\n\t\t\ton stream.\n\nThey switch on their throwers and turn to face the raging phantasms.\n\n<b>SCOLERI BROTHERS\n</b>\nThey are just about to wipe out the Judge when a loud shout distracts\nthem.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHey!  Why don't you pick on someone your own\n\t\t\tsize?\n\nThe towering ghosts turn in a fury and raise their arms, ready to shoot\nlightning at their new adversaries.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the others)\n\t\t\tOn my signal, boys.  Open 'em up -- Now!\n\nThey all pull their triggers and the wands EXPLODE with incredible\npowerful STREAMS OF ENERGY, doing even more damage to the courtroom.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSpengs, take the door.  Ray, let's try and\n\t\t\twork them down and into the corner.\n\nWorking as a team, they gradually confine the Scoleri Brothers with the\nstreams, forcing them closer and closer to the traps Ray has set out on\nthe floor.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWatch it!  I'm coming under you, Pete.\n\nThey circle around the two ghosts, prodding them with the streams while\nducking the lightning bolts shooting from their fingers.  Finally, Ray\nsees his chance and pops open the traps which emit inverted pyramids of\nlight energy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tSteady -- watch your streams -- easy now --\n\t\t\tVenky, bring him left -- Spengy, pull him\n\t\t\tdown -- trapping -- trapping -- now!\n\nHe stomps on a control pedal and the Scoleri Brothers are drawn into the\ntraps which snap shut.\n\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - TRAPS - DAY\n</b>\nLEDs on the outer casing start flashing, indicating the presence of a\nghost inside each trap.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (checking the trap)\n\t\t\tOccupado.\n\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - JUDGE - DAY (AFTER GHOST BATTLE)\n</b>\nHe sticks his head up slowly from behind the debris of his bench and\nlooks around in total amazement.\n\n<b>LOUIS\n</b>\nHe crawls out from under a chair.  Reporters and spectators get back on\ntheir feet and start buzzing about the incredible manifestation.\n\n<b>PROSECUTOR\n</b>\nShe's lying on the floor, attended to by the Bailiff and the Court Clerk.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Prosecutor)\n\t\t\tBrilliant summation.\n\n<b>GHOSTBUSTERS\n</b>\nThey break into big smiles as photographers start snapping pictures of\nthem standing in the wrecked courtroom.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tCase closed, boys.  We're back in business.\n\nThe spectators cheer and applaud.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  FIREHOUSE - DAY\n</b>\nThe old, dilapidated Ghostbusters logo comes crashing to the ground,\ndropped by a pair of workmen on a ladder, and the new logo is hoisted\ninto place over the main entrance.  It's just like the original \"No\nGhosts\" logo, but in the new one the ghost in the red circle is holding\nup two fingers.  Venkman enters the firehouse.\n\n<b>INT.  BEDROOM SET (TV COMMERCIAL - FULL SCREEN VIDEO) - NIGHT\n</b>\nA man and his wife are lying in bed reading.  The man is played by Louis\nTully and JANINE MELNITZ, the Ghostbusters' once and future receptionist,\nis playing his wife.  They are both terrible actors.  Suddenly, a ghost,\nactually a very bad puppet on a wire, floats through the bedroom.  Janine\nsees it and screams.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tWhat is it, honey?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tIt's that darn ghost again!  I don't know\n\t\t\twhat to do anymore.  He just won't leave us\n\t\t\talone.  I guess we'll just have to move.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tDon't worry.  We're not moving.  He is.\n\nHe picks up the phone.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tWho are you going to call?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with a wink)\n\t\t\tGhostbusters.\n\nAs he starts to dial, the CAMERA PULLS BACK to reveal the Ghostbusters\nstanding in the bedroom.  Their acting isn't much better than Louis and\nJanine's.\n\n<b>GHOSTBUSTERS\n</b>\nStantz speaks directly TO the CAMERA.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI'm Ray --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm Peter --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI'm Egon --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tAnd we're the ...\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tALL\n</b>\t\t\t\t (together)\n\t\t\tGhostbusters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThat's right -- Ghostbusters.  We're back\n\t\t\tand we're better than ever with twice the\n\t\t\tknow-how and twice the particle-power to\n\t\t\tdeal with all your supernatural elimination\n\t\t\tneeds.\n\nDuring his speech, Winston can be seen in the b.g. pretending to trap the\nfake ghost.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tCareful, Winston.  He's a mean one.\n<b>\t\t\t\t (TO CAMERA)\n</b>\t\t\tAnd to celebrate our grand reopening, we're\n\t\t\tgiving you twice the value with our special\n\t\t\thalf-price 'Welcome Back' service plan.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHold on, Ray!  Half-price!  Have you gone\n\t\t\tcrazy?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI guess so, Pete, because that's not all.\n\t\t\tTell them what else we've got, Egon.\n\nSpengler actually mouths everyone else's dialogue along with them,\nwaiting for his cue.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tYou mean the Ghostbusters hot beverage\n\t\t\tthermal mugs and free balloons for the kids?\n\nHe holds up a mug and a limp, uninflated balloon.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou bet.\n\nAs Stantz wraps it up, SUPERS APPEAR at the bottom of the SCREEN: FULLY\n<b>BONDED - FULLY LICENSED - SE HABLA ESPANOL.\n</b>\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b><b>\t\t\t\t (TO CAMERA)\n</b>\t\t\tSo don't wait another minute.  Make your\n\t\t\tsupernatural problem our supernatural problem.\n\t\t\tCall now, because we're still --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tALL\n</b>\t\t\t\t (in unison, mechanically)\n\t\t\t-- Ready to believe you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  JACK HARDEMEYER'S OFFICE - DAY\n</b>\nHardemeyer is watching the Ghostbusters commercial on a TV in his office.\nHe bangs his fist on his desk and angrily switches OFF the TV.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  FIREHOUSE - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThe garage door opens and the new improved ECTOMOBILE comes ROARING out\nonto the street, its ghostly SIREN MOANING and WAILING.  Louis comes\nrunning out after it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - DAY\n</b>\nLouis comes back into the garage bay and stops as he smells a foul odor.\nHe sniffs around, following the smell.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh, geez, smells like somebody took a really\n\t\t\tbig --\n\nHe freezes.\n\n<b>INT. OFFICE AREA - LOUIS'S POV\n</b>\nSlimer, a spud-like green ghost, is hovering over Louis's desk, scarfing\ndown Louis's bag lunch.  Slimer looks up and sees Louis.\n\n<b>SLIMER AND LOUIS\n</b>\nThey both scream and run off in opposite directions.\n\n<b>SLIMER\n</b>\nHe passes right through a wall and disappears.\n\n<b>LOUIS\n</b>\nHe runs right into a wall, recovers and exits in a hurry.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (screaming)\n\t\t\tHelp!  There's a thing!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  CENTRAL PARK RESERVOIR - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nRunners of both sexes and all ages are huffing and puffing as they jog\nalong the track that circles the reservoir.  One of the runners looks\nbehind him at the sound of APPROACHING FOOTFALLS and screams.\n\n<b>GHOSTLY JOGGER\n</b>\nA ghost jogger is loping along at a pretty fair pace.  Other runners\nstumble and run screaming into the park as he passes them.  Seemingly\noblivious to the effect he's having, the ghost jogger puts two fingers to\nhis skeletal neck and checks his watch as if taking his pulse.\n\n<b>EXT. CLEARING IN PARK - DAY (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nVenkman is sitting on a park bench near the jogging track reading the\nnewspaper, eating a donut and drinking coffee from a Styrofoam cup.\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe's sitting on a bench opposite Venkman's, casually watching the jogging\ntrack.\n\n<b>GHOST JOGGER\n</b>\nHe approaches the benches where the Ghostbusters are waiting.  As the\nghost jogger passes the benches, Stantz and Venkman simultaneously hit\nconcealed control buttons.  A ghost trap buried in the track throws up a\nglowing inverted pyramid and catches the ghost jogger in mid-stride.\nStantz and Venkman close the trap and capture the ghost jogger.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (checking his watch)\n\t\t\tYou know he ran that last lap in under six\n\t\t\tminutes?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIf he wasn't dead he'd be an Olympic\n\t\t\tprospect.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  JEWELRY STORE - DAY\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters come out carrying smoking traps, wearing cheap\ndime-store Santa Claus hats.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the client)\n\t\t\tMerry Christmas!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  FIFTH AVENUE - ORREFORS GLASS STORE - DAY\n</b>\nThe Ectomobile is parked at the curb and a curious crowd looks on as the\nGhostbusters enter the store.\n\n<b>INT.  ORREFORS GLASS STORE - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n</b>\nAll the precious crystal is floating in the air, several feet above the\nglass shelves and display tables.  Stantz and Venkman are talking to the\nmanager while Winston and Spengler set up an array of electronic devices\npositioned in each corner of the store.\n\nOn a signal from Stantz, Spengler and Winston switch on the devices which\nthrow laser-type beams around the perimeter of the store.  The manager\nwatches in horror as all the GLASSWARE suddenly drops out of the air,\nSMASHES through the GLASS SHELVES and SHATTERS on the display tables.\nThere is a long pregnant pause.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the manager)\n\t\t\tSo will that be cash or a check?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - RESTORATION STUDIO - DAY (LATE AFTERNOON)\n</b>\nEveryone else has gone home.  Dana is cleaning her brushes and putting\nher supplies away.\n\n<b>VIGO PAINTING - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n</b>\nVigo turns his head and watches Dana as she walks past the painting.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe stops, vaguely aware of the movement, and looks up curiously at the\npainting.  As she starts to walk on, Vigo looks at her again, but Dana\nturns suddenly and catches the movement.  Frightened now, she hastily\nleaves the studio.\n\n<b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - DAY\n</b>\nLouis is lurking behind a pillar, peeking out at the office area.  We PAN\nDOWN TO the floor and see a foot pedal, then PAN ALONG the cord TO a\nghost trap sitting on Louis's desk.  Hanging from strings over the desk\nare several pieces of Kentucky fried chicken.\n\n<b>WALL\n</b>\nSlimer partially emerges and furtively sniffs the air, then spots the\nchicken bait.  He licks his lips, materializes completely and flies to\nthe chicken.\n\n<b>LOUIS\n</b>\nHis eyes light up and he stomps the foot pedal.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouts)\n\t\t\tGotcha!\n\n<b>DESK\n</b>\nThe trap pops open and shoots out a powerful cone of energy.  Slimer\ndodges it and escapes as a big section of the ceiling comes crashing down\non Louis's desk.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (seeing the damage)\n\t\t\tUh-oh.\n\nHe slinks off, defeated.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MANHATTAN MUSEUM OF ART - SECURITY DESK - DAY\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters commercial is playing on a portable TV on the security\ndesk.  Rudy, the Security Guard, is reading a National Enquirer with a\ngiant front-page headline: GHOSTBUSTERS SAVE JUDGE.  Venkman enters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm looking for Dana Barrett.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSECURITY GUARD\n</b>\t\t\tRoom 304 -- Restorations.\n\t\t\t\t (recognizing him)\n\t\t\tHey!  Dr. Venkman -- 'World of the Psychic.'\n\t\t\tI'm a big, big fan.  That used to be one of\n\t\t\tmy two favorite shows.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (flattered)\n\t\t\tThanks.  What's the other one?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSECURITY GUARD\n</b>\t\t\t'Bass Masters.'  It's a fishing show.  Ever\n\t\t\tsee it?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, really great.  Take it easy.\n\nHe exits.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - RESTORATION STUDIO - DAY (MOMENTS LATER)\n</b>\nDana is working on a valuable Flemish still-life by Ver Meer.  Janosz is\nat the other end of the room, still working on the painting of Vigo.\nVenkman enters and sneaks up behind Dana.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (looking at the Ver Meer)\n\t\t\tSo this is what you do, huh?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (glad to see him)\n\t\t\tOh, hello, Peter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou're really good, you know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI didn't paint it.  I'm just cleaning it.\n\t\t\tIt's an original Ver Meer.  It's worth about\n\t\t\tten million dollars.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nHe turns his head and watches Venkman and Dana.\n\n<b>VENKMAN\n</b>\nUnaware that he's being watched, Venkman squints at the still life,\nholding up his thumb like he's seen artists do.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou know you can go to Art World and get\n\t\t\tthese huge sofa-size paintings for about\n\t\t\tforty-five bucks.\n\nHe starts looking around at the other artwork in the studio.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI'm sure you didn't come here just to talk\n\t\t\tabout art.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAs a matter of fact, I stopped by to tell\n\t\t\tyou that I haven't forgotten your problem\n\t\t\tand that we're still on the case.\n\nThey are interrupted by the sudden appearance of Janosz.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (smiling at Venkman)\n\t\t\tDana, aren't you going to introduce me to\n\t\t\tyour friend?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tOh, I'm sorry.  This is Peter Venkman.\n\t\t\tPeter, Janosz Poha.\n\nVenkman warily shakes his hand, trying to size him up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (avoiding his gaze)\n\t\t\tPleasure to meet you.  I've seen you on\n\t\t\ttelevision.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHow are you?\n\t\t\t\t (looking over at the Vigo\n\t\t\t\t painting)\n\t\t\tWhat's that you're working on, Johnny?\n\nJanosz winces at the nickname but lets it go.  Venkman and Dana cross to\nthe Vigo painting.  Janosz steps protectively in front of it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt's a painting I'm restoring for the new\n\t\t\tByzantine exhibition.  It's a self-portrait\n\t\t\tof Prince Vigo, the Carpathian.  He ruled\n\t\t\tmost of Carpathia and Moldavia in the 17th\n\t\t\tCentury.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (staring at the painting)\n\t\t\tToo bad for the Moldavians.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (defensive)\n\n\t\t\tHe was a very powerful magician.  A genius\n\t\t\tin many ways and quite a skilled painter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHe was also a lunatic and a genocidal madman.\n\t\t\tI hate this painting.  I've felt very\n\t\t\tuncomfortable since they brought it up from\n\t\t\tstorage.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, it's not the kind of thing you'd want\n\t\t\tto hang in the rec room.  You know what it\n\t\t\tneeds?\n\t\t\t\t (picking up a brush)\n\t\t\tA fluffy little white kitten in the corner.\n\nVenkman reaches toward the painting, but Janosz grabs his hand.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with forced good will)\n\t\t\tWe don't go around altering valuable\n\t\t\tpaintings, Dr. Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWell, I'd make an exception in this case if\n\t\t\tI were you.\n\nDana looks disapprovingly at Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Janosz)\n\t\t\tI'll let you get back to it.  Nice meeting\n\t\t\tyou.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tMy pleasure.\n\nVenkman and Dana cross back to her workspace.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (confidentially)\n\t\t\tI may be wrong, but I think you've got a\n\t\t\tlittle crush on this guy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tGood-bye, Peter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (dragging his feet)\n\t\t\tI'd like to stay, but I really don't have\n\t\t\ttime to hang around here.  I'll call you.\n\t\t\t\t (calls out to Janosz)\n\t\t\tLater, Johnny!\n\nHe exits.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nVigo turns his head and follows Dana as she returns to her workbench.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe stops, vaguely aware of the movement, and looks up curiously at the\npainting.  As she starts to walk on, Vigo looks at her again, but Dana\nturns suddenly and catches the movement.  Frightened now, she hastily\nleaves the studio.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - LIVING QUARTERS - CONTINUOUS ACTION - DAY\n</b>\nVenkman and Winston enter and find Stantz and Spengler at work in the lab\narea.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOh good, you're here.  Spengler and I have\n\t\t\tsomething really amazing to show you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Spengler)\n\t\t\tIt's not that thing you do with your\n\t\t\tnostrils, is it?\n\nStantz goes to the refrigerator, opens the freezer, rummages around among\nthe TV dinners and frozen pizza and pulls out a slime specimen in a\nTupperware container.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Venkman)\n\t\t\tWe've been studying the stuff that we took\n\t\t\tfrom the subway tunnel.\n\nHe pops the specimen jar in the microwave and lets it thaw for a minute.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAnd now you're going to eat it?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I'm just restoring it to its normal state.\n\nHe takes the specimen out of the microwave and pours some of it into a\nlarge Petri dish.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNow watch this.\n\nHe leans over the specimen and starts shouting at it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (simulating anger)\n\t\t\tYou worthless piece of slime!!\n\t\t\t\t (as the slime starts to\n\t\t\t\t twitch and glow)\n\t\t\tYou ignorant disgusting blob!!\n\n<b>SPECIMEN\n</b>\nIt bubbles and swells, changing color with each insult.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou foul, obnoxious muck!!\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe continues venting his rage on the slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI've seen some real crud in my time, but\n\t\t\tyou're a chemical disgrace!!\n\nThe specimen doubles its size and starts spilling over the rim of the\nPetri dish.\n\n<b>STANTZ AND SPENGLER\n</b>\nThey turn to Venkman for his reaction.  He's dumbfounded.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThis is what you do with your spare time?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (very excited)\n\t\t\tThis is an incredible breakthrough, Venkman.\n\t\t\tA psychoreactive substance!  Whatever this\n\t\t\tis, it clearly responds to human emotional\n\t\t\tstates.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t'Mood slime.'  We ought to bottle this stuff\n\t\t\tand sell it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWe've found it at every event site we've\n\t\t\tbeen to lately.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (poking at the slime)\n\t\t\tYou mean this stuff actually feeds on 'bad\n\t\t\tvibes'?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tLike a goat on garbage.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWe're running tests to see if we can get an\n\t\t\tequally strong positive reaction.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat kind of tests?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (a little embarrassed)\n\t\t\tWell, we sing to it, we talk to it, we say\n\t\t\tsupportive, nurturing things --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou're not sleeping with this stuff, are you?\n\nSpengler reacts as if he might be.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt really responds to music.\n\t\t\t\t (to Spengler)\n\t\t\tLet's calm it down.\n\nSpengler picks up a guitar and he and Stantz start singing \"Cumbaya\" to\nthe slime specimen.\n\n<b>SPECIMEN\n</b>\nIt stops bubbling and starts to shrink.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tDoes it have any favorites?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt likes all the sappy stuff: 'Cumbaya,'\n\t\t\t'Everything is Beautiful,' 'It's a Small\n\t\t\tWorld' -- but it loves Jackie Wilson.\n\nVenkman and Winston watch intently as Spengler spoons some of the\npsych-reactive slime onto an old toaster.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWatch this.\n\nStantz turns on a CASSETTE PLAYER and Jackie Wilson's \"HIGHER AND HIGHER\"\nBLASTS from the speakers.\n\n<b>TOASTER\n</b>\nIt shakes, spins and actually starts moving in time with the MUSIC.\n\n<b>VENKMAN\n</b>\nHe stares in disbelief at the dancing toaster as it shoots two pieces of\ntoast into the air and catches them without missing a beat.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI don't care what you say.  This could be a\n\t\t\tmajor Christmas gift item.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tRight, and the first time someone gets mad,\n\t\t\ttheir toaster will eat their hand.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo we'll put a warning on the label.\n\nStantz turns OFF the MUSIC and the toaster stops moving.  Venkman looks\nat the toaster and sticks his fingers in the slot.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the toaster)\n\t\t\tGo ahead.  I dare you.\n\nSuddenly, he yelps as if the toaster has actually bitten into his hand\nand won't let go.  The others jump in to help him, but Venkman laughs and\neasily withdraws his hand.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tJust kidding.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  DANA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT\n</b>\nDana brings Oscar into the bathroom and lays him on the bassinet.  She's\nwearing a robe over her nightgown, preparing to bathe the baby.  She\nturns the taps on the old claw-footed bathtub, checks the water\ntemperature, then turns away and starts to undress the baby.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (talking sweetly to the\n\t\t\t\t baby)\n\t\t\tLook at you.  I think we got more food on\n\t\t\tyour shirt than we got in your mouth.\n\n<b>BATHTUB\n</b>\nThe water pouring from the faucet changes to slime and settles at the\nbottom of the tub.  Dana reaches over and turns off the water without\nlooking into the tub.  When she turns away, both taps start to spin by\nthemselves and the tub flexes and bulges.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nStill unaware, she routinely reaches over and squirts some bubble bath\ninto the tub.\n\n<b>BATHTUB\n</b>\nThe rim of the tub puckers up and the sides convulse as if swallowing the\nbubble bath.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>She picks the baby up off the bassinet and turns to place him in the tub.\nShe is just about to lower him into the water when the tub starts to\nclose up around the baby like a hugh mouth.  Dana screams, snatches the\nbaby away and runs from the room clutching Oscar to her bosom as the\nbathtub convulses and vomits up buckets of slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - SAME NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nThe big open loft space is a chaotic clutter of mismatched furniture, old\nmagazines, books, tapes, and sports equipment.  Venkman is asleep on the\nfloor, still wearing his coat, scarf, hat and gloves, having collapsed\njust short of the bedroom.  The DOORBELL RINGS, he wakes up, lumbers to\nhis feet and answers it.  He opens the door and sees Dana standing there.\nShe is wearing only a nightgown under her coat and Oscar is naked,\nwrapped in a baby blanket.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (somewhat embarrassed to\n\t\t\t\t be there)\n\t\t\tI'm sorry.  Were you on your way out?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (surprised to see her)\n\t\t\tNo, I just got in -- a couple hours ago.\n\t\t\tCome on in.\n\t\t\t\t (noting her apparel)\n\t\t\tAre we having a pajama party?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (upset)\n\t\t\tPeter, the bathtub tried to eat Oscar.\n\nVenkman looks at her for a long moment.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou know, if anyone else told me that, I'd\n\t\t\thave serious doubts.  But coming from you,\n\t\t\tI can't honestly say I'm surprised.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI must be losing my mind.  At the museum\n\t\t\ttoday I could have sworn that terrible\n\t\t\tpainting of Vigo looked right at me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWho could blame him?  Were you wearing this\n\t\t\tnightgown?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (distraught)\n\t\t\tI don't know what to do anymore.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'll get Ray and Egon to check out the\n\t\t\tbathtub.  You better stay here.\n\nHe exits to the bathroom.  She looks around the loft, amazed at the\ndisorder.  Venkman comes back immediately with an old sweatshirt and\ntakes Oscar from her.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNow this kid has a serious nudity problem.\n\nHe spreads the sweatshirt out on the sofa, lays the baby on it and starts\ntying it around him like a diaper.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the baby)\n\t\t\tThis is Joe Namath's old number, you know.\n\t\t\tYou could get a lot of chicks with this.\n\t\t\tJust don't pee in it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tPeter, what about the bathtub?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (grabs the phone and dials)\n\t\t\tWe'll take care of that.\n\t\t\t\t (on the phone)\n\t\t\tRay, Pete.  Listen, get over to Dana's right\n\t\t\taway ... Her bathtub pulled a fast one --\n\t\t\ttried to eat the kid.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tIt was full of this awful pink ooze.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Ray)\n\t\t\tSounds like another slime job ... No,\n\t\t\tthey're all right.  They're here now ...\n\t\t\tRight ... Let me know.\n\nHe hangs up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThey're going over there right now.  You\n\t\t\tmight as well make yourself at home.  Let\n\t\t\tme show you around.\n\t\t\t\t (he crosses to the kitchen area)\n\t\t\tThis is the cuisine de maison --\n\nIt's an incredible mess. The sink is piled high with dirty dishes and the\ncounters are littered with all sorts of food trash.  He grabs a big open\nHefty bag on the floor and starts throwing garbage into it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (looking at the sink)\n\t\t\tWe may have to wash some of these if you get\n\t\t\thungry --\n\t\t\t\t (he looks in the fridge)\n\t\t\t-- but there's no food anyway so forget\n\t\t\tabout it.  I have all kinds of carry-out\n\t\t\tmenus if you feel like ordering.\n\nHe opens a drawer full of pizza, barbecue and Chinese food menus, then\ncrosses to the bathroom.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tBathroom's right here -- let me just tidy\n\t\t\tup a few things.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tPeter, this is very nice, but you don't have\n\t\t\tto do any of this, you know.\n\nHe goes into the bathroom and we hear WATER RUNNING, the TOILET FLUSHING\nand more items going into the Hefty bag.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\tThe shower works but it's a little tricky.\n\t\t\tThey're both marked \"Hot.\"  It takes a little\n\t\t\tpractice, but at least this one won't try\n\t\t\tand eat you.\n\nHe comes out of the bathroom with the now-loaded Hefty bag over his\nshoulder.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tBe careful on that sofa -- it's a butt-biter.\n\t\t\tBut the bed's good and I just changed the\n\t\t\tsheets so if you get tired, feel free.  In\n\t\t\tfact, I think you should definitely plan on\n\t\t\tspending the night here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tReally?  And how would we handle the sleeping\n\t\t\tarrangements?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tFor me it's best if I sleep on my side and\n\t\t\tyou spoon up right behind me with your arms\n\t\t\taround me.  If we go the other way I'm\n\t\t\tafraid your hair will be getting in my face\n\t\t\tall night.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHow about you on the sofa and me in bed with\n\t\t\tthe baby.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOr we could do that.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThank you.\n\t\t\t\t (she picks up Oscar)\n\t\t\tPoor baby.  I think I should put him down\n\t\t\tnow.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'll put him down for you.\n\t\t\t\t (taking the baby)\n\t\t\tYou are way too short!  And your belly-button\n\t\t\tsticks out!  You're nothing but a burden to\n\t\t\tyour poor mother!\n\nVenkman carries the baby into the bedroom leaving Dana in the living\nroom, feeling more relaxed and a lot safer.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM - DAY (NEXT MORNING)\n</b>\nVenkman is waiting in front of the building as ECTO-2 pulls up and\nStantz, Spengler and Winston get out and report on Dana's apartment.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDid you find anything at Dana's?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNothing.  Just some mood-slime residue in\n\t\t\tand around the bathtub.  But we did turn up\n\t\t\tsome interesting stuff on this Vigo character\n\t\t\tyou mentioned.  I found the name Vigo the\n\t\t\tCarpathian in Leon Zundinger's Magicians,\n\t\t\tMartyrs and Madmen.  Listen to this:\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reads from xerox of entry)\n\t\t\t\"Vigo the Carpathian, born 1505, died 1610 --\"\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tA hundred and five years?  He really hung\n\t\t\ton, didn't he.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tAnd he didn't die of old age either.  He was\n\t\t\tpoisoned, stabbed, shot, hung, stretched,\n\t\t\tdisemboweled, drawn and quartered.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tI guess he wasn't too popular at the end\n\t\t\tthere.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tNo, not exactly a man of the people.\n\t\t\t\t (reads)\n\t\t\t\"Also known as Vigo the Cruel, Vigo the\n\t\t\tTorturer, Vigo the Despised, and Vigo the\n\t\t\tUnholy.\"\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThis guy was a bad monkey.  He dabbled in\n\t\t\tall the Black Arts, and listen to this\n\t\t\tprophecy.  Just before his head died, his\n\t\t\tlast words were, \"Death is but a door, time\n\t\t\tis but a window.  I'll be back.\"\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThat's it?  \"I'll be back?\"\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tIt's a rough translation from the Moldavian.\n\nThey enter the museum carrying their monitoring equipment.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - SECURITY DESK - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nRudy the guard looks up in surprise as the Ghostbusters enter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tRUDY\n</b>\t\t\tHey, Dr. Venkman.  What's going on?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWe're just going up to Restorations for a\n\t\t\tminute.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tRUDY\n</b>\t\t\tOh, I can't let you do that.  Mr. Poha told\n\t\t\tme not to let you up there anymore.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with mock seriousness)\n\t\t\tOkay, we were trying to keep this quiet but\n\t\t\tI think you can be trusted.  Tell him, Ray.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (very official)\n\t\t\tMister, you have an Ecto-paritic,\n\t\t\tsubfusionary flux in this building.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tRUDY\n</b>\t\t\tWe got a flux?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tYou got a flux and a half.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNow if you don't want to be the --\n\t\t\t\t (he counts)\n\t\t\t-- fifth person ever to die in meta-shock\n\t\t\tfrom a planar rift, I suggest you get down\n\t\t\tbehind that desk and don't move until we\n\t\t\tgive you the signal \"Stabilize -- All Clear.\"\n\nRudy gulps and starts to hunker down behind the desk as the Ghostbusters\nhead upstairs.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - RESTORATION STUDIO - DAY (MOMENTS LATER)\n</b>\nJanosz is working on the Vigo painting when the Ghostbusters enter.  He\nrushes over and stops them at the door.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tDr. Venkman?  Dana is not here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tThen why have you come?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWe got a major creep alert and we're just\n\t\t\tgoing down the list.  Your name was first.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Spengler and Winston)\n\t\t\tLet's sweep it, boys.\n\nThey deploy and start scanning the studio with their monitoring devices.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Janosz)\n\t\t\tYou know, I never got to ask you.  Where you\n\t\t\tfrom, Johnny?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (nervous)\n\t\t\tThe Upper West Side.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (consulting his PKE meter)\n\t\t\tThis entire room is extremely hot, Peter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tWhat exactly are you looking for, Dr. Venkman?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWe'll know when we find it.  You just sit\n\t\t\ttight.  This won't take long.\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nUsing the Giga-meter, he traces a strong psychomagnetheric reading to\nthe painting of Vigo in the alcove at the end of the studio.  Venkman\ncomes up behind him with Janosz right on his heels.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThis is the one that looked at Dana.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt must be the chemical fumes in the studio.\n\t\t\tPeople start imagining things --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (interrupts)\n\t\t\tI'm going to rule out the glue-sniffing\n\t\t\ttheory.  If she says it looked at her, it\n\t\t\tlooked at her.\n\t\t\t\t (to Vigo)\n\t\t\tHey, you!  Vigie!  Look at me.  I'm talking\n\t\t\tto you.  Hey!  Look at me when I'm talking\n\t\t\tto you.\n\nThey watch the painting for any sign of movement.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nHis eyes stare lifelessly into the distance.\n\n<b>STANTZ AND VENKMAN\n</b>\nVenkman starts shooting Polaroids of Vigo.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Vigo)\n\t\t\tBeautiful, beautiful.  Work with me, baby.\n\t\t\tJust have fun with it.\n\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tOkay, he's playing it cool.  Let's finish\n\t\t\tup and get out of here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI'll get one more reading.\n\nVenkman walks off leaving Stantz alone with the painting.  Stantz scans\nthe painting with the Giga-meter until his eyes meet Vigo's.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nHis eyes seems to burn right through to the depths of Stantz's soul.\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe stands there transfixed, unable to look away, as a strange and subtle\ntransformation occurs within him.  Winston comes up behind him and breaks\nthe spell.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (looking at the painting)\n\t\t\tNow that's one ugly dude.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (coming back to his senses)\n\t\t\tHuh?  What?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tYou finished here?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (distracted)\n\t\t\tWhat?  Yeah.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tAre you all right?  You coming down with\n\t\t\tsomething?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I'm fine.  I just got light-headed for\n\t\t\ta second there.  Let's go.\n\nThey head for the door.\n\n<b>JANOSZ\n</b>\nHe escorts the Ghostbusters to the door.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tSo you see, everything is in order, is it\n\t\t\tnot?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNot.  Don't leave town and report any change\n\t\t\tin your address to the proper authorities.\n\t\t\tWe'll be back.\n\nThey exit.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters cross to ECTO-2.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tThere's definitely something going on in\n\t\t\tthat studio.  The PKE levels were max-plus\n\t\t\tand the Giga-meter was showing all red.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tI'd put my money on that Vigo character.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, that's a safe bet.\n\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tYou and Spengman see what else you can dig\n\t\t\tup on Vigo and this little weasel Poha.\n\t\t\tThose two were made for each other.\n\n<b>INT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters are driving back to the firehouse.  Stantz is at the\nwheel.  His eyes are vacant, he seems distracted and very tense.  Stantz\nswerves suddenly and HONKS the horn angrily.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to another driver)\n\t\t\tIdiot!\n\t\t\t\t (honking)\n\t\t\tMove it, you jerk!\n\nVenkman and Winston exchange surprised looks.\n\n<b>EXT.  STREET - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nStantz drives extremely fast, HONKING vindictively, weaving dangerously\nthrough traffic.\n\n<b>INT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nWinston looks at Ray, concerned.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tGoing a little fast, aren't we, Ray?\n\nStantz turns on him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (viciously)\n\t\t\tAre you telling me how to drive?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I just thought --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWell don't think!\n\nHe HONKS again and tromps hard on the accelerator.\n\n<b>EXT.  STREET - DAY (CONTINUOUS)\n</b>\nEcto-2 is now barreling down the avenue.  Pedestrians leap to safety as\nStantz runs a red light.\n\n<b>INT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThey hang on to the safety straps as Stantz continues his maniacal ride.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Stantz, really worried\n\t\t\t\t now)\n\t\t\tAre you crazy, man?  You're going to kill\n\t\t\tsomebody!\n\nStantz looks at him and smile demonically.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I'm going to kill everybody!\n\nHe swerves off the road.\n\n<b>EXT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe car heads right for a big tree.\n\n<b>INT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nAt the last possible moment, Winston cold-cocks Stantz, grabs the wheel\nand steps across to stomp on the brakes.\n\n<b>EXT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe car skids into the tree and stops.  The Ghostbusters stumble out\ndazed and shaken, but unhurt.  Stantz rubs his eyes and looks at the\nothers, completely at a loss.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (himself again)\n\t\t\tWhat happened?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou just picked up three penalty points on\n\t\t\tyour driver's license.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tAre you all right?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, I guess so.  It was the strangest\n\t\t\tthing.  I knew what I was doing but I\n\t\t\tcouldn't stop.  This really terrible feeling\n\t\t\tcame over me and -- I don't know -- I just\n\t\t\tfelt like driving into that tree and ending\n\t\t\tit all.  Whew!  Sorry, boys.\n\nThey inspect the damage to the car.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (confidentially, to\n\t\t\t\t Spengler)\n\t\t\tWatch him, Egon.  Don't even let him shave.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThere's a KNOCK at the front door, a key turns in the lock, and Venkman\nenters somewhat tentatively holding a bouquet of flowers and a small\nsuitcase of Dana's.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (calls out)\n\t\t\tI'm home!\n\nHe looks around the large open loft.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to himself)\n\t\t\tI knew it.  She cleaned.\n\nHe hears the SHOWER RUNNING and crosses to the bathroom.  The door is\nhalf-open and he can see Dana in the shower (tastefully blurred) through\nthe transparent vinyl curtain.  He closes the bathroom door and looks at\nthe baby asleep on the bed, surrounded by pillows to prevent him rolling\noff.  Then he turns and bumps into Dana who's just coming out of the\nbathroom wrapped in a towel.  She jumps back into the bathroom.\n\nShe comes out again, this time wearing a robe.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAre you all squeaky clean now?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (humoring him)\n\t\t\tYes, I'm very clean.  Did they find anything\n\t\t\tat my apartment?\n\nShe squeezes past him into the bedroom and closes the door.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (through the door)\n\t\t\tNothing.  They stayed there all night, went\n\t\t\tthrough your personal stuff, made a bunch of\n\t\t\tlong-distance phone calls and cleaned out\n\t\t\tyour refrigerator.  And didn't find anything.\n\nDana opens the bedroom door.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThey didn't find anything?  In the bathtub\n\t\t\t... the pink ooze ... nothing?  So, what do\n\t\t\tI do now?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNow you get dressed and we go out.  I got a\n\t\t\tbabysitter and everything.  Trust me, you\n\t\t\tneed it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI'm not here to date.  I can't leave Oscar\n\t\t\tin a strange place with someone I don't know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tIt's Janine Melnitz, from my staff.  She's\n\t\t\tone of my most valuable employees.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tDoes she know anything about babies?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tJanine Melnitz, are you kidding?\n\t\t\t\t (handing her the flowers)\n\t\t\tDo I have a vase?  I brought some of your\n\t\t\tclothes.  Wear something intriguing.  I\n\t\t\tbrought along some interesting possibilities.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, but it's not a date.  It's a dinner.\n\nShe smiles and closes the door again.  He opens the closet and starts\nlooking for his good suit.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDid you happen to see some shirts on the\n\t\t\tfloor in here?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\tI put them in your hamper.  I thought they\n\t\t\twere dirty.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shaking his head)\n\t\t\tI have a hamper?  Next time ask me first,\n\t\t\tokay.  I have more than two grades of\n\t\t\tlaundry.  There're lots of subtle levels\n\t\t\tbetween clean and dirty.\n\nHe pulls some clothes out of the hamper and inspects them.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThese aren't so bad yet.  You just hang them\n\t\t\tup for a while and they're fine.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b><b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - RECEPTION AREA - EARLY EVENING\n</b>\nJanine covers her computer terminal and starts turning out the lights.\nThen she notices that the lights are still on upstairs.  She starts\nprimping and freshening up her makeup.\n\n<b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - LAB AREA - SAME TIME\n</b>\nLouis is strapping on a proton pack, preparing to deal with Slimer once\nand for all.  He's wearing a bicyclist's rearview mirror on a headband.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to himself)\n\t\t\tOkay, Stinky, this is it.  Showdown time.\n\t\t\tYou and me, pal.  You think you're smarter\n\t\t\tthan I am?  We'll see about that.\n\t\t\t\t (loud)\n\t\t\tOh, hello, Pizza Man!  Oh, two larges!  I\n\t\t\tonly ordered one.  Oh, pepperoni and\n\t\t\tpineapple.  My absolute favorite.  I guess\n\t\t\tI'll have to eat these both by myself.\n\n<b>THE CEILING\n</b>\nSlimer pokes his head through the ceiling and scans the room hanging\nupside down.\n\n<b>LOUIS\n</b>\nHe spots Slimer through the rearview mirror.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (quietly)\n\t\t\tOkay, let's boogie!\n\nHe whirls around and fires a proton stream at Slimer, slicing a burning a\ngash across the ceiling.\n\n<b>THE STAIRS\n</b>\nJanine comes up and ducks as a bolt of energy streaks across the room and\nstrikes the wall behind her.  Slimer disappears.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (embarrassed and apologetic)\n\t\t\tOh migod!  I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to do\n\t\t\tthat.  It was an accident.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tWhat are you doing up here?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI was trying to get that smelly green thing.\n\t\t\tThe guys asked me to help out.  I'm like the\n\t\t\tfifth Ghostbuster.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tWhy would you want to be a Ghostbuster if\n\t\t\tyou're already an accountant?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh, no, it's just if one of the guys calls\n\t\t\tin sick or gets hurt.\n\nLouis quickly slips off the proton pack and sets it down.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tHave you made any plans yet?  You know\n\t\t\ttomorrow is New Year's Eve.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I celebrate at the beginning of my\n\t\t\tcorporate tax year which is March first.\n\t\t\tThat way I beat the crowds.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tThat's very practical.  I hate going out on\n\t\t\tNew Year's Eve, too.\n\nThere is an awkward silence between them and Janine starts to leave.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tWell, good night, Louis.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on an impulse)\n\t\t\tJanine, do you feel like maybe getting\n\t\t\tsomething to eat on the way home?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tI'd like to, but I told Dr. Venkman I'd\n\t\t\tbabysit.\n\t\t\t\t (seductively)\n\t\t\tDo you want to babysit with me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh, sure, that sounds great.\n\nThey exit.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nThere is a KNOCK at the door and Venkman goes to answer it.  He's dressed\nfor the evening and looking very dapper.\n\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - ENTRANCE HALL - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n</b>\nVenkman opens the door and finds Stantz, Spengler and Winston standing\nthere wearing over-the-hip rubberized waders, firemen's slickers, and\nminers' helmets, carrying tons of sensing devices, meters, collection\njars and photographic equipment.  They look like they're rigged out for a\nmajor spelunking expedition.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (ushering them in)\n\t\t\tDon't tell me, let me guess.  All-you-can-eat\n\t\t\tbarbecue rib night at the Sizzler?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWe're going down into the sewer system to\n\t\t\tsee if we can trace the source of the\n\t\t\tpsycho-reactive slime flow.  We thought you\n\t\t\tmight want to come along.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDarn it!  I wish I'd known you were going.\n\t\t\tI'm stuck with these damn dinner reservations.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tYou know, animals and lower life forms often\n\t\t\tanticipate major disasters.  Given the new\n\t\t\tmagnetheric readings we could see a tremendous\n\t\t\tbreeding surge in the cockroach population.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tRoach breeding?  Sounds better and better.\n\t\t\t\t (calls out)\n\t\t\tDana?  The boys are going down under the\n\t\t\tsewers tonight to look for slime.  Egon\n\t\t\tthinks there might even be some kind of big\n\t\t\troach-breeding surge.  Should we forget about\n\t\t\tdinner and go with them instead?\n\nDana steps into the living room looking very beautiful.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWow.\n\nDana looks curiously at their outfits.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHi.\n\nThey nod and wave back.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Ray and Egon)\n\t\t\tI think we're going to have to pass on the\n\t\t\tsewer trip, boys.  Let me know what you find\n\t\t\tout.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on his exit)\n\t\t\tOkay, but you're missing all the fun.\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nStantz, Spengler and Winston come down the stairs into the station,\nguided by a very old map of the underground city.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThis is it.  Van Horne Station.  Right where\n\t\t\tthe old transit map said it would be.\n\nThey cross to the edge of the platform and look into the river of slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tLet's get a sounding on the depth of that\n\t\t\tflow.\n\nStantz has a long, coiled, graduated cord with a plumb bob on the end of\nit attached to his utility belt.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tStand back.\n\nHe takes the cord in his hand, swings the plumb bob over his head and\ncasts it out into the middle of the flow.  The plumb bob sinks and\nSpengler reads the depth.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tSix feet -- seven -- eight --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThat's it.  It's on the bottom.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tNine feet -- ten --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tIs the line sinking?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tNo, the slime is rising.\n\nStantz looks down and notices the slime rising over the edge of the\nplatform and around his boots.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (alarmed)\n\t\t\tLet's get out of here, boys.\n\nHe starts to pull out the plumb line but it seems to be stuck.\n\nSpengler tries to help, but whatever is pulling on the cord is stronger\nthan all three of them.  As their unseen adversary pulls them closer and\ncloser to the edge, Stantz works desperately to unhook the cord from his\nbelt but finally just unhooks the whole belt.  Spengler lets go in time\nbut Winston doesn't.  He is jerked off his feet and into the slime flow.\nStantz and Spengler look at each other, summon their courage and jump in\nafter him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  ARMAND RESTAURANT - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nDana and Venkman are sitting at a table in an elegant restaurant nibbling\ncaviar and toasting with very expensive champagne.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (very intimate)\n\t\t\tHere's to -- us.\n\nShe sighs and drinks.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo -- are you making any New Year's\n\t\t\tresolutions?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI want to stop getting involved with men who\n\t\t\taren't good for me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDoes that start exactly at midnight tomorrow,\n\t\t\tor could you hold off for a few days maybe?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tFor one night in your life, do you think\n\t\t\tit's possible for us to be completely real?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAll right, you want to be real?  So tell me\n\t\t\twhy did you dump me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tOh, Peter, I didn't dump you.  I just had\n\t\t\tto protect myself.  You really weren't very\n\t\t\tgood for me, you know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm not even good for me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tWhy do you say things like that?  You're so\n\t\t\tmuch better than you know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThank you.  If I had that kind of support\n\t\t\ton a daily basis, I could definitely shape\n\t\t\tup by the turn of the century.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (already feeling the\n\t\t\t\t effects of the champagne)\n\t\t\tSo why don't you give me a jingle in the\n\t\t\tyear 2000?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tLet me jingle you right now.\n\nHe leans over to kiss her.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tMaybe I should call Janine.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDon't worry.  Janine has a very special way\n\t\t\twith children.\n\nThey kiss.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  APARTMENT - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nJanine is on the sofa doing her nails while Louis paces with the baby.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (looking around)\n\t\t\tI can't believe a person could actually live\n\t\t\tlike this.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the baby)\n\t\t\tSo these dwarfs had a limited partnership in\n\t\t\ta small mining operation and then one day a\n\t\t\tbeautiful princess came to live with them.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tIt's really not a bad place.  It just needs\n\t\t\ta woman's touch.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (continuing)\n\t\t\tSo they bartered room and board in exchange\n\t\t\tfor housekeeping services, which was a good\n\t\t\tdeal for all of them because then they didn't\n\t\t\thave to withhold tax and social security,\n\t\t\twhich I'm not saying is right but it's just\n\t\t\ta story, so I guess it's all right.  I can\n\t\t\tfinish this later if you're tired.\n\nLouis goes into the bedroom and puts the baby down.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tYou're really good with children, Louis.  I\n\t\t\tcan tell.\n\t\t\t\t (as he returns)\n\t\t\tWhy don't you come here and sit with me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOkay.\n\nHe sits stiffly beside her on the sofa.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (getting close)\n\t\t\tMotherhood is a very natural instinct for\n\t\t\tme.  I'd like to have a baby myself.\n\t\t\tWouldn't you?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (gulps)\n\t\t\tTonight?\n\n<b>EXT.  STREET - MANHOLE COVER - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nA manhole cover is dislodged and pushed up from below.  It slides away,\nand Winston crawls out of the manhole followed by Stantz and Spengler.\nThey are exhausted and covered with slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (uncharacteristically\n\t\t\t\t angry)\n\t\t\tNice going, Ray!  What were you trying to\n\t\t\tdo -- drown me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (unusually mean)\n\t\t\tLook, Zeddemore, it wasn't my fault you were\n\t\t\ttoo stupid to drop that line.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shoves him)\n\t\t\tYou better watch your mouth, man, or I'll\n\t\t\tpunch your lights out.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOh yeah?  Anytime, anytime.  Just go ahead\n\t\t\tand try it.\n\nSpengler steps between them with unprecedented aggression.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tIf you two are looking for a fight, you got\n\t\t\tone.\n\t\t\t\t (putting up his fists)\n\t\t\tWho wants it first?  Come on, Ray.  Try me,\n\t\t\tsucker.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (squaring off)\n\t\t\tButt out, you pencil-necked geek.  I've had\n\t\t\tit with you.\n\nThey grab each other and start to tussle.  Suddenly Spengler comes to his\nsenses and pulls them apart.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (forcefully)\n\t\t\tStrip!  Right now!  Get out of those clothes!\n\nHe starts yanking off his slicker and waders.  Bewildered, Stantz and\nWinston start doing the same.  Spengler helps pull off their clothes and\nthrows them into the open manhole.  Now wearing only long underwear, they\nseem to return to normal.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tWhat are we doing?  Ray, I was ready to kill\n\t\t\tyou.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tDon't you see?  It's the slime.  That stuff\n\t\t\tis like pure, concentrated evil.\n\nStantz looks around and sees that they are standing right in front of the\nmuseum.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tAnd it's all flowing right to this spot.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  ARMAND RESTAURANT ENTRANCE - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe MAITRE D' looks up in surprise as Stantz, Spengler and Winston enter\nthe restaurant wearing only long underwear.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAITRE D'\n</b>\t\t\t\t (intercepting them)\n\t\t\tCan I help you?\n\nStantz looks around and spots Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThat's all right, I see him.\n\nThey blow right by the Maitre d' who jumps back in horror as they pass.\n\n<b>VENKMAN\n</b>\nHe's just about to pour more champagne when he sees Ray, Egon and Winston\ncoming toward him through the restaurant.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (very excited)\n\t\t\tYou should've been there, Venkman.\n\t\t\tAbsolutely incredible!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, sorry I missed it.\n\t\t\t\t (noting their attire)\n\t\t\tI guess you guys didn't know about the dress\n\t\t\tcode here.  It's really kind of a coat and\n\t\t\ttie place.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt's all over the city, Pete -- well, under\n\t\t\tit actually.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tRivers of the stuff!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tAnd it's all flowing toward the museum.\n\nHe gestures excitedly and a big gob of slime flies across the room and\nlands on a well-dressed diner.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (calls out)\n\t\t\tSorry!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tMaybe we should discuss this somewhere else.\n\nVenkman notes the look of alarm on Dana's face and pulls his colleagues\naside.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (confidentially)\n\t\t\tBoys, listen.  You're scaring the straights.\n\t\t\tLet's save this until tomorrow, okay?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Venkman)\n\t\t\tThis won't wait until tomorrow, Venkman.\n\t\t\tIt's hot and it's ready to pop.\n\n<b>MAITRE D'\n</b>\nHe hurries through the restaurant with two city COPS right behind him and\nmakes straight for Venkman's table.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAITRE D'\n</b>\t\t\tArrest these men.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (recognizing them)\n\t\t\tHey!  It's the Ghostbusters.  You're out of\n\t\t\tuniform, gentlemen\n\nStantz suddenly realizes how ridiculous they look.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (self-conscious)\n\t\t\tUh -- well -- we had a little accident, but\n\t\t\tforget that.  We have to see the mayor as\n\t\t\tsoon as possible.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\tLook, Doc, why don't you just go home.\n\t\t\tYou'll get a good night's sleep and then you\n\t\t\tcan give the mayor a call in the morning.\n\t\t\tCome on.\n\nHe takes Stantz by the arm but Stantz resists.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWe're not going anywhere with you.  I told\n\t\t\tyou we have to see the mayor now.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (grabbing Stantz)\n\t\t\tI'm warning you.  You can come along\n\t\t\tpeaceably or --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (grabs the Cop)\n\t\t\tHey, don't be an idiot.  This is serious.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (angry)\n\t\t\tLook, pal, keep this up and you're going\n\t\t\twith them.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOh, yeah?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (has had enough)\n\t\t\tYeah, let's go.  You're all under arrest.\n\nThe Cop catches Venkman in an armlock and starts walking him out of the\nrestaurant.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tFinish your dessert -- it's already paid\n\t\t\tfor.  I'll call you.\n\nThey all exit, causing a major commotion among the other diners.\n\n<b>EXT.  ARMAND'S RESTAURANT - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe police car is parked right behind Ecto-2.  Spengler stops at the\npolice car and confronts the cops.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tLook, we're not drunk and we're not crazy.\n\t\t\tThis is a matter of vital importance.\n\nVenkman steps in and looks at the policemen's nametags.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\tWhat are you doing?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI just want to get your names right for when\n\t\t\tthe mayor asks us why we didn't let him know\n\t\t\tabout this sooner.\n\nThe Cops look at each other, uncertain about what to do.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (relenting)\n\t\t\tOkay, Doc.  You want to see the mayor, you\n\t\t\tgot it.  Follow us.\n\nThey head for their respective vehicles.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nLouis and Janine are on the sofa making out when Dana enters.  They jump\nup and start smoothing their clothes.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (embarrassed)\n\t\t\tOh, hello, Dana.  we were just -- we were --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI know what you were doing, Louis.  It's\n\t\t\tall right.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tHow was your date?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tTypical.  Peter was arrested.  Has he called?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tNo, nobody called.\n\nDana frowns.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tIs everything all right with Oscar?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tOh, he's fine.  He's such a good baby.  He\n\t\t\twas a little fussy at first, but we gave\n\t\t\thim a Freach bread pizza and he went right\n\t\t\tto sleep.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (relieved)\n\t\t\tOh, good.  I'll just check on him.\n\nShe crosses to the bedroom.\n\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S BEDROOM - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nDana looks at Oscar sleeping peacefully on the bed.  She starts to change\nclothes.\n\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nLouis and Janine aren't sure what to do.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tShould we go?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tI don't think we should leave her alone.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tYou're right.  We should stay.\n\nHe grabs Janine and they start making out again.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM RESTORATION STUDIO - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nJanosz stands before the painting of Vigo.  Vigo comes to life and\nrepeats the litany of his power.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tI, Vigo, the scourge of Carpathia --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (heard all this before)\n\t\t\tYes, the scourge --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\t-- the sorrow of Moldavia --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t-- the sorrow --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tI command you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (checking his watch)\n\t\t\tI await the word of Vigo.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tThe season of evil begins with the birth of\n\t\t\tthe new year.  Bring me the child that I\n\t\t\tmight live again.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (abjectly humble)\n\t\t\tLord Vigo, the mother, Dana, is fine and\n\t\t\tstrong.  I was wondering -- well, would it\n\t\t\tbe possible -- if I bring the baby, could I\n\t\t\thave the woman?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tSo be it.  On this the day of darkness, she\n\t\t\twill be ours, wife to you and mother to me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  CARL SCHURZ PARK - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nPreceded by a police car, Ecto-2 enters the small park on the East River\nat 88th Street and disappears into an underground entrance.  The CAMERA\nPANS UP to reveal Gracie Mansion, the residence of the Mayor of New York\nCity.\n\n<b>INT.  GRACIE MANSION - MOMENTS LATER\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters, now wearing police raincoats over their longjohns are\nushered through the house by a butler to a set of double oak doors.  The\nbutler knocks lightly, then opens the door to reveal the MAYOR sitting in\nfront of the fireplace in his well-appointed private study, flanked by\nJack Hardemeyer, both in tuxedoes.  The Ghostbusters enter.\n\n<b>INT.  STUDY - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n</b>\nThe Mayor is impatient and a little angry at having been pulled out of\nhis formal reception.  He frowns at their bizarre attire.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\tAll right -- the Ghostbusters.  I'll tell\n\t\t\tyou right now; I've got two hundred of the\n\t\t\theaviest campaign contributors in the city\n\t\t\tout there eating bad roast chicken waiting\n\t\t\tfor me to give the speech of my life.\n\t\t\tYou've got two minutes.  Make it good.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou get enough negative energy flowing in a\n\t\t\tdense environment like Manhattan, it starts\n\t\t\tto build up, and if we don't do something\n\t\t\tfast this whole place will blow like a frog\n\t\t\ton a hotplate.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tTell him about the toaster.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI don't think he's ready for the toaster.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shaking his head)\n\t\t\tBeing miserable and treating other people\n\t\t\tlike dirt is every New Yorker's God-given\n\t\t\tright.  What am I supposed to do -- go on\n\t\t\ttelevision and tell eight million people\n\t\t\tthey have to be nice to each other?  I'm\n\t\t\tsorry, none of this makes any sense to me,\n\t\t\tand if anything does happen we've got plenty\n\t\t\tof paid professionals to deal with it.  Your\n\t\t\ttwo minutes are up.  Good night, gentlemen.\n\nThe mayor exits, leaving the Ghostbusters to Hardemeyer.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (smirking)\n\t\t\tThat's quite a story.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, I think the Times might be interested,\n\t\t\tdon't you?  The Post might have a lot of fun\n\t\t\twith it, too.\n\nHardemeyer's eyes go cold and calculating.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tBefore you go running to the newspapers with\n\t\t\tthis, would you consider telling this slime\n\t\t\tthing to some people downtown?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNow you're talking.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  PARKVIEW HOSPITAL - PSYCHIATRIC WARD - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nAn attendant opens a locked door with a wire mesh window and the\nGhostbusters, in straitjackets, are led into the psych ward as Hardemeyer\nconfers with the chief PSYCHIATRIST.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (protesting)\n\t\t\tI'm telling you, we're not crazy.  He is!\n\n<b>HARDEMEYER\n</b>\nHe laughs off the remark.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Psychiatrist)\n\t\t\tThe mayor wants them kept under strict\n\t\t\tobservation for a few days.  We think\n\t\t\tthey're seriously disturbed and potentially\n\t\t\tdangerous.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPSYCHIATRIST\n</b>\t\t\tWe'll do whatever's necessary.\n\nHardemeyer shakes his hand and exits as the door slams shut on the\nGhostbusters.\n\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nLouis and Janine are watching an old rerun on TV, eating popcorn, while\nDana is stretched out on the other sofa.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (wishing they'd leave)\n\t\t\tYou know you really don't have to stay.\n\t\t\tPeter should be back soon.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh no, we don't mind.\n\nShe hears a little CRY from the nursery and sits up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tExcuse me.  I think Oscar is up.\n\nShe crosses to the bedroom.\n\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S BEDROOM - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nDana enters and immediately notices that the crib is empty and the window\nis open.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (screams)\n\t\t\tLouis!\n\nFrantic now, Dana rushes to the window and looks out, as Louis and Janine\ncome running in.\n\n<b>EXT.  WINDOW LEDGE - DANA'S POV - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nThe baby is standing out on the ledge at the corner of the building,\nfifty feet above the street, staring off into the distance as if he's\nwaiting for something.\n\n<b>EXT.  WINDOW LEDGE - NIGHT (ECLIPSE) (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nDana climbs out onto the ledge and starts inching slowly toward the baby.\nThen she stops as a miraculous apparition materializes.\n\n<b>LOUIS AND JANINE\n</b>\nThey lean out the window, gaping at the apparition.\n\n<b>EXT.  VENKMAN'S LEDGE - APPARITION\n</b>\nA sweet, kindly-looking English nanny appears, pushing a pram, strolling\non thin air parallel to the ledge high above the ground.  Her face looks\nremarkably like Janosz Poha's.  The nanny extends her hand to the BABY\nwho GURGLES sweetly as he reaches out to take it.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe watches in helpless horror.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (screams)\n\t\t\tNo!!\n\n<b>GHOST NANNY\n</b>\nShe picks up the baby and lays it gently in the pram, then turns and\nsmiles at Dana.  The smile turns to a hideous grin, then the nanny\nshrieks at Dana and takes off like a shot with the baby.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe watches the creature fly off with Oscar, then climbs back through\nthe window assisted by Louis and Janine.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (resolutely)\n\t\t\tLouis, you have to find Peter and tell him\n\t\t\twhat happened.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (confused and worried)\n\t\t\tWhere're you going?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tTo get my baby back.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM - NIGHT (A LITTLE LATER)\n</b>\nA taxi pulls up, Dana jumps out and rushes into the museum.  The moment\nthe door closes behind her, there is a loud THUNDERCLAP, the ground\ntrembles and a massive amount of slime erupts from around the base of\nthe museum and starts covering the walls, sealing her inside the\nbuilding.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  PARKVIEW PSYCHIATRIC - PADDED ROOM - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nVenkman, Stantz, Spengler and Winston are in a padded cell.  They are\nhandcuffed and the cuffs are chained to thick leather belts around their\nwaists.  Venkman stands there banging his head into the padded wall\nwhile the others try to explain the situation to a skeptical\nPsychiatrist.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWe think the spirit of Vigo the Carpathian\n\t\t\tis alive in a painting at the Manhattan\n\t\t\tMuseum.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPSYCHIATRIST\n</b>\t\t\tI see. And are there any other paintings in\n\t\t\tthe museum with bad spirits in them?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (impatient)\n\t\t\tYou're wasting valuable time!  We have reason\n\t\t\tto believe that Vigo is drawing strength from\n\t\t\ta psychomagnetheric slime flow that's been\n\t\t\tcollecting under the city.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPSYCHIATRIST\n</b>\t\t\tYes, tell me about the slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tIt's potent stuff.  We made a toaster dance\n\t\t\twith it, then a bathtub tried to eat his\n\t\t\tfriend's baby.\n\nThe psychiatrist looks at Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDon't look at me.  I think they're nuts.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM RESTORATION STUDIO - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nMoonlight streams through the skylight above, bathing the studio in\neerie white light.  Oscar is lying safely on a table in front of the\npainting of Vigo.  Dana enters cautiously and sees the baby.  Seeing no\none else about, she quickly sneaks down to the table and picks up the\nbaby, hugging hin tight, greatly relieved to find him unharmed and\nintact.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\tI knew you would come.\n\nStartled, Dana turns at the sound of his voice as Janosz steps out from\nbehind the Vigo painting.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (defiantly)\n\t\t\tWhat do you want with my baby?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo harm will come to the child.  You might\n\t\t\teven say it's a privilege.  He will be the\n\t\t\tvessel for the spirit of Vigo.  And you --\n\t\t\twell, you will be the mother of the ruler\n\t\t\tof the world.  Doesn't that sound nice?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tIf this is what the world will be like, I\n\t\t\tdon't want to live in it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (confidentially, indicating\n\t\t\t\t Vigo)\n\t\t\tI don't believe we have the luxury of choice.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tEverybody has a choice.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tNot in this case, my dear.  Take a look.\n\t\t\tThat's not Gainsborough's Blue Boy up there.\n\t\t\tHe's Vigo!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI don't care who he is.  He's not taking my\n\t\t\tbaby.\n\nDana walks quickly to the door but suddenly Oscar flies out of her arms,\nfloats across the room and lands lightly back in the cradle.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe turns and looks at Vigo, for the first time feeling his power.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou will see.  It's all for the best.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  PARKVIEW HOSPITAL - DAY (NEXT MORNING)\n</b>\nIt's the last day of the year and the sun is shining brightly.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  PARKVIEW PSYCHIATRIC WARD - DAY (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters are sitting in the dayroom, a dingy lounge for patients\nin the locked ward.  There is a television set, a Ping-Pong table and a\nfew tables and chairs.  Stantz is looking at the sky through the heavy\nwire mesh covering the windows.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThis is it. boys.  It's starting.  Shit-storm\n<b>\t\t\t2000.\n</b>\nVenkman is doing occupational therapy, weaving on a little hand-loom.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tIt better not start yet.  I'm trying to\n\t\t\tfinish my potholder before lunch.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tYou think all those predictions about the\n\t\t\tworld coming to an end in the 1990s are true?\n\nA PATIENT at the next table joins the discussion.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPATIENT\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with certainty)\n\t\t\t1997.  My dog told me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat kind of dog?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPATIENT\n</b>\t\t\tLabrador.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shakes his head)\n\t\t\tHabitual liars.  They can't help it.  It's\n\t\t\tin the breed.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  PARKVIEW HOSPITAL - EXAMINING ROOM - DAY (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nLouis is pleading with his cousin, SHERMAN TULLY, a doctor on the staff\nat Parkview.  He looks and sounds just like Louis.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tCome on, Sherm.  You're my cousin.  Do this\n\t\t\tfor me.  I'm begging you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI can't do it, Louis.  It isn't ethical.  I\n\t\t\tcould lose my license.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tWhy can't you just have them released?\n\t\t\tYou're a doctor.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm a dermatologist.  I can't write orders\n\t\t\ton the psych ward.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tSherman, I've done lots of favors for you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tLike what?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI got you out of those bad tax shelters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou were the one who got me in.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI fixed you up with Diane Troxler and she\n\t\t\tput out, didn't she?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, I had to give her free dermabrasion\n\t\t\tfor a year.  Forget it, Louis.  I could get\n\t\t\tin a lot of trouble.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI'm telling you, we're all going to be in\n\t\t\tbig trouble if we don't do something fast.\n\t\t\tThat ghost guy came and took my friend's\n\t\t\tbaby and we got to get it back.  It's just\n\t\t\ta scared little baby, Sherm.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThen you should go to the police.  I don't\n\t\t\tbelieve in any of that stuff.\n\nSherman looks out the window.\n\n<b>EXT.  SKY - SHERMAN'S POV\n</b>\nThe sky begins to go dark as the sun is magically eclipsed.\n\n<b>INT.  EXAMINING ROOM - CONTINUOUS ACTION - DAY\n</b>\nThe room goes dark.  Louis switches on a lamp which casts an eerie light\non his face.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (spooky)\n\t\t\tDo you believe it now, Sherm?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  HUDSON RIVER PIER - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nA drainpipe starts dripping slime into the river near the Cunard Line\ndocks.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  PUBLIC FOUNTAIN (59TH AND FIFTH) - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nWith the Plaza Hotel in the background, the fountain starts to spout\npsycho-reactive slime.\n\n<b>HOTEL ENTRANCE\n</b>\nA well-heeled MAN and WOMAN step out of a limousine and walk up the steps\ntoward the revolving door.  She looks up at the sky and frowns.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWOMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shrewish)\n\t\t\tI told you we should have stayed in Palm\n\t\t\tBeach.  The weather here gets stranger every\n\t\t\tyear.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYes, dear.\n\nShe doesn't notice it, but a small amount of slime falls on the back of\nher luxurious, full-length, white mink coat.  The doorman nods\ncourteously and extends a hand to help her up the stairs.\n\n<b>WOMAN\n</b>\nShe yelps in pain.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWOMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the doorman)\n\t\t\tSomething just bit me!\n\nThe doorman looks curiously at her, then recoils in shock as her coat\ncomes alive.  MINK HEADS pop out of the thick fur, SNARLING, BARKING and\nYAPPING, their sharp, little teeth biting the air.  Reacting quickly, the\ndoorman yanks the coat off the woman's back, throws it to the ground and\nstarts stomping on it as the Woman and her husband look on in horror.\nThe coat scuttles down the steps and runs off down the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MIDTOWN CENTRAL POLICE PRECINCT - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nThe squad room is busy as DETECTIVES try to answer the flood of calls\nregarding the wave of supernatural events sweeping the city.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDETECTIVE ONE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on the phone)\n\t\t\tLook, lady, of course there are dead people\n\t\t\tthere.  It's a cemetery ...\n\t\t\t\t (his face falls)\n\t\t\tThey were asking you for directions?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDETECTIVE TWO\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on another phone)\n\t\t\tWas this a big dinosaur or a little dinosaur?\n\t\t\t... Oh, just the skeleton, huh?  Well, where\n\t\t\tis it now?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDETECTIVE THREE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on the phone)\n\t\t\tWait a second -- the park bench was chasing\n\t\t\tyou?  You mean, someone was chasing you in\n\t\t\tthe park ... No, the bench itself was chasing\n\t\t\tyou.  I see --\n\nA weary SERGEANT answers a RINGING PHONE.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSERGEANT\n</b>\t\t\tManhattan Central, Flaherty speaking ...\n\t\t\tYeah ... yeah? ... What?  Who is this? ...\n\t\t\tWait a second.\n\nHe puts the caller on \"Hold\" and turns the LIEUTENANT.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSERGEANT\n</b>\t\t\tLieutenant, I think you better talk to this\n\t\t\tguy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLIEUTENANT\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on another call)\n\t\t\tWhat is it?  I'm talkin' here!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSERGEANT\n</b>\t\t\tIt's some dock supervisor down at Pier 34\n\t\t\ton the Hudson.  The guy's going nuts.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLIEUTENANT\n</b>\t\t\tWhat's the problem?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSERGEANT\n</b>\t\t\t\t (takes a deep breath)\n\t\t\tHe says the Titanic just arrived.\n\n<b>INT.  PORT AUTHORITY OFFICE - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nThe dock supervisor stands there with the phone in his hand, an assistant\nbeside him, both staring out the window at the ocean liner tied up at the\npier.\n\n<b>EXT.  PIER 34 - THEIR POV - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nThe name \"R.M.S. Titanic\" is clearly visible on the side of the huge\nship.  The gangplank is down and dozens of drowned passengers, sopping\nwet and festooned with seaweed, are disembarking while drowned porters\noff-load their waterlogged baggage.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  PARKVIEW HOSPITAL - NIGHT (MOMENTS LATER)(ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nEcto-2 is parked outside as Louis and Sherman come out of the hospital\nwith the Ghostbusters, now wearing their standard uniforms.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tGood work, Louis.  How did you get us out?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh, I pulled a few strings.  I wouldn't want\n\t\t\tto say any more than that.\n\nLouis winks conspiratorially at Sherman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tThis is my cousin Sherman.  Sherm, say hello\n\t\t\tto the Ghostbusters.\n\t\t\t\t (sotto voce to Stantz)\n\t\t\tI promised him a ride in the car if he got\n\t\t\tyou out.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Ghostbusters)\n\t\t\tHi, it's really great to meet you guys.  I\n\t\t\tknow this sounds weird but once I had a\n\t\t\tdream that my grandfather was standing at\n\t\t\tthe foot of my bed, but I knew it was\n\t\t\timpossible because he died and he started\n\t\t\tto tell me that --\n\nWhile he's talking, the Ghostbusters jump in the Ectomobile and drive\noff, leaving him and Louis standing at the curb.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tHey!  Wait!  Okay, I'll meet you there.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI thought you were like the fifth Ghostbuster.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI let them handle all the little stuff.  I\n\t\t\tjust come in on the big ones.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>-----------------------------------------------------------------------\n</b>(original version of the above scene - 11/27/88)\n(TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES: These two versions of this scene were put in my\ncopy of the script, so I have included both of them here)\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tActually, they still think you're crazy, but\n\t\t\tI convinced them you're not dangerous.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (determined)\n\t\t\tYeah, well guess again.\n\n<b>EXT.  BELLEVUE HOSPITAL - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)(MOMENTS LATER)\n</b>\nEcto-2 is parked outside and the Ghostbusters are hastily donning their\nstandard uniforms.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI brought everything you asked for and I\n\t\t\tgassed up the car with Super Unleaded.  It\n\t\t\tcost twenty cents more than Regular Unleaded\n\t\t\tbut you get much better performance and in\n\t\t\tan old car like this that'll end up saving\n\t\t\tyou money in the long run.  I put it on my\n\t\t\tcredit card, so you can either reimburse me\n\t\t\tor I can take it out of petty cash --\n\nWhile he's talking, the Ghostbusters jump in the Ecto-2 and drive\noff without him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tHey!  Wait!  Okay, I'll meet you there.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>-----------------------------------------------------------------------\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)(LATER)\n</b>\nECTO-2 pulls to the curb across the street from the museum.  Hundreds of\nspectators are already there gawking at the building as the Ghostbusters\njump out and gape at the sight that greets them.\n\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM THEIR POV - BUILDING\n</b>\nThe building is now totally covered in a shell of psycho-reactive slime.\nCITY WORKMEN and FIREMEN are trying to cut their way in with blowtorches,\njackhammers, power tools and the \"jaws of life,\" but they can't even make\na dent.\n\n<b>GHOSTBUSTERS\n</b>\nThey size up the situation as they don their proton packs.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt looks like a giant Jello mold.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI hate Jello.\n\nThey stride manfully across the street and approach the main entrance to\nthe museum.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Fire Captain)\n\t\t\tOkay, give it a rest, Captain.  We'll take\n\t\t\tit from here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRE CAPTAIN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (skeptical)\n\t\t\tBe my guest.  We been cutting here for three\n\t\t\thours.  What the hell's going on?  You know\n\t\t\tthe Titanic arrived this morning?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWell, better late than never.\n\nThe workmen and firemen put down their tools and fall back as the\nGhostbusters draw their particle throwers.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (monitoring valences)\n\t\t\tFull neutronas, maser assist.\n\nThey adjust their settings and prepare to fire.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThrow 'em!\n\nThey trigger their throwers and spray the front doors of the building\nwith bolts of proton energy, but it has no effect on the hardened slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the firemen)\n\t\t\tOkay, who knows \"Cumbaya?\"\n\nA few of the firemen and workmen tentatively raise their hands.  Venkman\ngrabs them and lines them up at the entrance of the museum.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAll right.  Nice and sweet --\n\t\t\t\t (starts singing)\n\t\t\tCumbaya, milord, cumbaya --\n\nStantz, Spengler, Winston and the firemen sing along, reluctantly holding\nhands and swaying to the music.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tALL\n</b>\t\t\t\t (singing)\n\t\t\tCumbaya, milord, cumbaya, Cumbaya, milord,\n\t\t\tcumbaya, Oh, Lord, cumbaya.\n\nStantz inspects the wall of slime with his infra-goggles and finds that\nthey have only managed to open a hole the size of a dime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tForget it.  The Vienna Boys Choir couldn't\n\t\t\tget through this stuff.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tGood effort.  Now what?  Should we say\n\t\t\tsupportive, nurturing things to it, Ray?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tIt won't work.  There's no way we could\n\t\t\tgenerate enough positive energy to crack\n\t\t\tthat shell.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI can't believe things have gotten so bad\n\t\t\tin this city that there's no way back.\n\t\t\tSure, it's crowded, it's dirty, it's noisy.\n\t\t\tAnd there are too many people who'd just as\n\t\t\tsoon step on your face as look at you.  But\n\t\t\tthere've got to be a few sparks of sweet\n\t\t\thumanity left in this burned-out burg.  We\n\t\t\tjust have to mobilize it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWe need something that everyone can get\n\t\t\tbehind, a symbol --\n\nHis eyes fall on ECTO-2's New York State license plate which features a\nline drawing of the Statue of Liberty.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (he sees it, too)\n\t\t\tSomething that appeals to the best in each\n\t\t\tand every one of us --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tSomething good --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAnd pure --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tAnd decent.\n\n<b>EXT.  THE STREET - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nThere is a commotion among the crowd as the Mayor's limousine arrives\nwith a police escort.  Jack Hardemeyer steps out followed by the Mayor\nhimself and they cross to the museum entrance.\n\nHardemeyer, his ASSISTANT and several police BODYGUARDS confront the\nGhostbusters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tLook, I've had it with you.  Get your stuff\n\t\t\ttogether, get back in that clown car and get\n\t\t\tout of here.  This is a city matter and\n\t\t\teverything's under control.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOh, you think so?  Well, I've got news for\n\t\t\tyou.  You've got Dracula's brother-in-law\n\t\t\tin there and he's got my girlfriend and her\n\t\t\tkid.  Around about midnight tonight, when\n\t\t\tyou're partying uptown, this guy's going to\n\t\t\tcome to life and start doing amateur head\n\t\t\ttransplants.  And that's just round one.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\tAre you telling me there're people trapped\n\t\t\tin there?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to his assistant)\n\t\t\tThis is dynamite.  Call A.P., U.P.I., and\n\t\t\tC.N.N. and get them down here right away.\n\t\t\tWhen the police bring this kid out I want\n\t\t\tthem to hand it right to the mayor and I\n\t\t\twant it all on camera.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tMr. Mayor, if we don't do something by\n\t\t\tmidnight, you're going to go down in history\n\t\t\tas the man who let New York get sucked down\n\t\t\tinto the tenth level of hell.\n\nThe Mayor stops to consider the situation.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Fire Captain)\n\t\t\tCan you get into that museum?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRE CAPTAIN\n</b>\t\t\tIf I had a nuclear warhead, maybe.\n\nThe Mayor turns to Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\tYou know why all these things are happening?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWe tried to tell you last night, but Mr.\n\t\t\tHard-On over here packed us off to the loony\n\t\t\tbin.\n\nHardemeyer flips out.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tThis is preposterous!  You can't seriously\n\t\t\tbelieve all this mumbo-jumbo!  It's the\n\t\t\tTwentieth Century, for crying out loud!\n\t\t\t\t (viciously, to Venkman)\n\t\t\tLook, mister, I don't know what this stuff\n\t\t\tis or how you got it all over the museum,\n\t\t\tbut you better get it off and I mean right\n\t\t\tnow!\n\nHe pounds the wall of slime with his fist, and they all watch in\namazement as his fist goes through the wall and he is sucked bodily\nthrough the slime curtain.  Only his shoes can be seen, embedded in the\nslime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Venkman)\n\t\t\tOkay, just tell me what you need.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  LIBERTY ISLAND (NEW YORK HARBOR) - NIGHT\n</b>\nWith the city skyline in the b.g., the Ghostbusters prepare their\nequipment.  Each of them dons a makeshift backpack consisting of tanks,\nhoses, nozzles and an abundance of gauges, valves and regulators.\nVenkman looks up at the Statue of Liberty looming above them.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tKind of makes you wonder, doesn't it?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tWonder what?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tIf she's naked under that toga.  She's\n\t\t\tFrench, you know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tThere's nothing under that toga but 300 tons\n\t\t\tof iron and steel.\n\nStantz is looking worried.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI hope we have enough stuff to do the job.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOnly one way to find out.\n\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tReady, Teddy?\n\nThey enter the statue.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  STATUE OF LIBERTY - MOMENTS LATER\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters are working from the iron staircase that spirals\nstraight up 100 feet inside the hollow super-structure of the statue.\nSpengler and Winston are busy assembling hundreds of wires connected to\nvarious relays on the interior surface of the statue.  Venkman and Stantz\nare mounting large auditorium loudspeakers near the top of the staircase.\nThey finish the installation, then Stantz dons one of the new backpacks\nand gives the order.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, boys.  Let's frost it.\n\nThey begin hosing the inside of the statue with the psycho-reactive\nslime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nJanine watches as Louis, wearing a Ghostbuster uniform, slings a heavy\nproton pack onto his back.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tI'm not sure this is such a good idea?  Do\n\t\t\tthey know you're doing this?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh, yeah, sure -- no.  But there's really\n\t\t\tnot much to do here and they might need\n\t\t\tsome back-up at the museum.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tYou're very brave, Louis.  Good luck.\n\nShe kisses Louis and he gets extremely self-conscious.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tUh -- oh -- well, I better hurry.\n\nHe rushes out.\n\n<b>EXT  STREET OUTSIDE FIREHOUSE - NIGHT (LITTLE LATER)\n</b>\nLouis stands on the street corner waiting for a bus.  Finally, a bus\npulls up, Louis climbs aboard and finds Slimer behind the wheel.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  STATUE OF LIBERTY - OBSERVATION DECK - MOMENTS LATER\n</b>\nVenkman, Stantz, Spengler and Winston are standing in the observation\nwindows in the crown of the statue.  It looks like they're on the bridge\nof an ocean liner, then the CAMERA PULLS BACK to reveal the head of the\nstatue.\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe plugs the main cable lead into a transformer.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt's all yours, Pete.\n\t\t\t\t (checks his watch)\n\t\t\tThere's not much time left.\n\nVenkman plugs the speaker cable into a Walkman and gives a downbeat.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (giving the downbeat)\n\t\t\tOkay, one, two, three, four --\n\nHe hits \"Play\" on the Walkman and \"HIGHER AND HIGHER\" BOOMS from the huge\nSPEAKERS, amplified by the statue's vast hollow interior.\n\n<b>INT.  OBSERVATION DECK - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe head of the statue lurches suddenly, but the Ghostbusters cling to\nthe rail and manage to keep their feet.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tShe's moving!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tI've lived in New York all my life and I\n\t\t\tnever visited the Statue of Liberty.  Now I\n\t\t\tfinally get here and we're taking her out\n\t\t\tfor a walk.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reading the Giga-meter)\n\t\t\tWe've got full power.\n\nStantz picks up a Nintendo control paddle from a home video game and\nstarts pushing the buttons.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (into a microphone)\n\t\t\tOkay, Libby.  Let's get it in gear.\n\nThey feel a strong vibration and the statue starts to move.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  SOUTH STREET SEAPORT - NIGHT\n</b>\nNew Years Eve celebrants line the riverfront, pointing and gawking at an\nincredible sight.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST RIVER - THEIR POV - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe statue is moving up the river almost completely submerged, only her\nhead from the nose up is visible above the surface.\n\n<b>INT.  OBSERVATION DECK - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nWinston looks out apprehensively.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tHow deep does it get?  That water's cold and\n\t\t\tI can't swim.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tIt's okay.  I have my Senior Lifesaving card.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWith a water temperature of forty degrees\n\t\t\twe'd survive approximately fifteen minutes.\n\nStantz studies a maritime navigational chart.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI'll keep to the middle of the channel.\n\t\t\tWe're okay to 59th Street, then we'll go\n\t\t\tashore and take First Avenue to 79th.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAre you kidding?  We'll hit all that bridge\n\t\t\ttraffic at 59th.  I'm going to take 72nd\n\t\t\tstraight up to Fifth.  Trust me, I used to\n\t\t\tdrive a cab.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  RIVERFRONT - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nSpectators cheer wildly, inspired by the sight of the Statue.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM RESTORATION STUDIO - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nJanosz is sitting next to Dana, still wheedling her with promises and\nself-serving logic.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tTime is running out, Dana.  Soon it will be\n\t\t\tmidnight and the city will be mine -- and\n\t\t\tVigo's.  Well, mainly Vigo's.  But we have\n\t\t\ta spectacular opportunity to make the best\n\t\t\tof our relationship.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tWe don't have a relationship.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tI know.  Marry me, Dana, and together we\n\t\t\twill raise Vigo as our son.  There are many\n\t\t\tperks that come with being the mother of a\n\t\t\tliving god.  I'm sure he will supply for us\n\t\t\ta magnificent apartment.  And perhaps a car\n\t\t\tand free parking.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI hate and despise you and everything you\n\t\t\tstand for with all my heart and soul.  I\n\t\t\tcould never forgive what you've done to me\n\t\t\tand my child.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tMany marriages begin with a certain amount\n\t\t\tof distance, but after a while I believe we\n\t\t\tcould learn to love each other.  Think about\n\t\t\tit.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI'd rather not.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  TIMES SQUARE - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nPeople are jammed together shoulder to shoulder filling Times Square,\nwatching the big Seiko clock count down the last ten minutes to midnight.\nSuddenly, they look down Broadway and see a magnificent sight.\n\n<b>EXT.  BROADWAY - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe Statue of Liberty is walking up Broadway approaching 42nd Street,\nwith \"Higher and Higher\" BOOMING from the SPEAKERS inside.  A great cheer\ngoes up, and the crowd goes wild with joy, dancing and singing along with\nthe MUSIC.\n\n<b>INT.  STATUE OF LIBERTY OBSERVATION DECK - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS)\n</b>\nSpengler reads the Giga-meter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tIt's working.  The positive GeV's are\n\t\t\tclimbing.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (patting the Statue)\n\t\t\tThey love you, Lib.  Keep it up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  FIFTH AVENUE - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nThe avenue has been closed to traffic and barricades placed, blocking all\nthe side streets.  A squadron of police motorcycles comes speeding around\nthe corner at 72nd Street and proceeds up Fifth Avenue in the direction\nof the museum.  Then MUSIC is heard BOOMING in the distance, the ground\nshakes and the Statue of Liberty comes walking around the corner onto\nFifth Avenue followed by a wildly cheering throng.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  OBSERVATION DECK - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters can see the museum ahead.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo far so good.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (worried)\n\t\t\tI'm worried.  The vibrations could shake her\n\t\t\tto pieces.  We should have padded her feet.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI don't think they make Nikes in her size.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWe're almost there, Lib.\n\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tStep on it.\n\n<b>EXT.  STREET - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe Statue's huge foot comes down and squashes a car.\n\n<b>INT.  OBSERVATION DECK - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters look down at the flattened car.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouts out the window)\n\t\t\tMy Fault!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouts)\n\t\t\tShe's new in town.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - RESTORATION STUDIO - SAME TIME\n</b>\nJanosz is painting the last of the mystical symbols on the baby's chest.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  TIMES SQUARE - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nThe people still in the square start counting off the last ten seconds to\nmidnight and the New Year.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCROWD\n</b>\t\t\t\t (chanting)\n\t\t\tTen .. nine ... eight ... seven ...\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - PAINTING - NIGHT\n</b>\nA strange light spreads over the painting.  As the light moves onto his\nface, Vigo spreads his arms wide and his upper body starts to emerge from\nthe canvas.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tSoon my life begins.  Then woe to the weak,\n\t\t\tall power to me, the world is mine.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - JANOSZ - NIGHT\n</b>\nThe baby's body begins to glow as Vigo reaches out for it.  Then suddenly\na dark shadow falls across the skylight.  Janosz looks up.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - JANOSZ'S POV - SKYLIGHT - NIGHT\n</b>\nThe Statue of Liberty is looming over the skylight looking down on Janosz\nwith an expression of righteous anger on it's face.\n\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nKneeling beside the museum, the statue draws back it's mighty right arm\nand smashes the skylight with its torch.\n\n<b>INT.  RESTORATION STUDIO - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nJanosz retreats from the shower of broken glass as the Ghostbusters come\nsliding down ropes into the studio and confront Janosz with their new\nweapons.  Quick as a flash, Dana seizes the moment, dashes across the\nstudio and snatches the baby from Vigo's outstretched arms.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Janosz)\n\t\t\tHappy New Year.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - VIGO PAINTING - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nVigo bellows in rage.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - STUDIO - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nJanosz steps in front of the painting.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tHi there.  Feel free to try something stupid.\n\nJanosz sneers, trusting the invincibility of Vigo.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou pitiful, miserable creatures!  You dare\n\t\t\tto challenge the power of darkness?  Don't\n\t\t\tyou realize what you are dealing with?  He's\n\t\t\tVigo!  You are like the buzzing of flies to\n\t\t\thim.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (sighs)\n\t\t\tOh, Johnny.  Did you back the wrong horse.\n\nWith that, the Ghostbusters fire their slime-blowers and hose Janosz from\nhead to toe, blowing him into the corner.  Then they turn to Vigo.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nHe is now almost completely out of the painting, but still held from the\nknees down.  He spits and rages at the Ghostbusters, trying to unleash\nhis magic powers.\n\n<b>THE GHOSTBUSTERS\n</b>\nThey stand fast, secure in the knowledge that Vigo's power has been\nneutralized by the good will of the people.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tVigi, Vigi, Vigi -- you have been a bad\n\t\t\tlittle monkey.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThe whole city's together on this one.  We\n\t\t\ttook a vote.  Everybody's down on you, you\n\t\t\tknow.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (arming his slime-blower)\n\t\t\tSay goodnight now.\n\nSuddenly Vigo grabs Stantz by the neck and holds him up as a shield.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tDon't shoot!  You'll hit Ray!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (strangling)\n\t\t\tDo it!  Just do it!\n\nWinston fires and hoses both Vigo and Ray.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nHe bellows and drops Ray, then falls back into the painting.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - PAINTING - NIGHT\n</b>\nThe paint turns liquid, melts off the canvas and runs onto the floor\nrevealing another painting underneath it.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - GHOSTBUSTERS - NIGHT (AFTER BATTLE)\n</b>\nVenkman, Spengler and Winston rush over to Ray and kneel beside him.  He\nis completely covered with slime and motionless.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (examining him)\n\t\t\tHe's breathing.\n\nWinston wipes the slime off Ray's face and Ray opens his eyes.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tRay -- Ray -- How do you feel, man?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (smiles lovingly)\n\t\t\tGroovy.  I've never felt better in my life.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOh, no.  We've got to live with this?\n\nThey pull him to his feet.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI love you guys.  You're the best friends\n\t\t\tI've ever had.\n\nHe hugs them each in turn, leaving them slimed as well.  Venkman recoils\nin disgust.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHey, I just had this suit cleaned.\n\t\t\t\t (indicating Janosz)\n\t\t\tTake care of the wiggler, will you.\n\nVenkman crosses to Dana who is snuggling the baby.  She hugs Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat is this -- a love in?\n\t\t\t\t (notes the symbols painted\n\t\t\t\t on the baby's body)\n\t\t\tHey, sailor.  I think the tattoos are a\n\t\t\tlittle much, don't you?\n\nHe picks up the baby.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Venkman)\n\t\t\tI think he likes you.  I think I do too.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tFinally came to your senses, huh?\n\nThey hug and kiss.\n\n<b>SPENGLER, WINSTON AND STANTZ\n</b>\nThey help Janosz to his feet.  He's dazed but unhurt.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (restored to normalcy)\n\t\t\tWhat happened?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (calmly)\n\t\t\tSir, you had a violent, prolonged,\n\t\t\ttransformative psychic episode.  But it's\n\t\t\tover now.  Want a coffee?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (extremely nice)\n\t\t\tThat's very kind of you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tHe's fine, Ray.  Physically intact,\n\t\t\tpsychomagnetherically neutral.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tIs that good?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tIt's where you want to be.\n\nAs they exit they stop to examine the painting that was concealed by\nVigo's self-portrait.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tLate Renaissance, I think.  Caravaggio or\n\t\t\tBrunelleschi.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (staring at it)\n\t\t\tThere's something very familiar about this\n\t\t\tpainting.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - NEW PAINTING - NIGHT\n</b>\nIt's a beautiful painting in the high-Renaissance style depicting four\narchangels hovering protectively over a cherubic baby.  One holds a harp,\none, an olive branch, the third, a book, and the last, a sword.  Most\nremarkably, their faces bear an uncanny resemblance to Venkman, Stantz,\nSpengler and Winston.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  STREET - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nA city bus pulls up near the museum and Louis steps off.  He waves his\nthanks to Slimer who is behind the wheel.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Slimer)\n\t\t\tOkay, so Monday night we'll get something\n\t\t\tto eat and maybe go bowling?  Can you bowl\n\t\t\twith those little arms?\n\nSLIMER GRUNTS and SLOBBERS a reply, flexing his scrawny biceps.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, I have to go save Dana.  I'll see you\n\t\t\tlater.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. MUSEUM - NIGHT (LITTLE LATER)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters are greeted by wild cheering and applause as they come\nout the main entrance with Dana and the baby.  Everybody starts singing\n\"Auld Lang Syne.\"  Louis picks his way through the celebrating crowd and\nfinds the Ghostbusters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tAm I too late?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo, you're right on time.\n\nStantz pops the cork on a bottle of champagne and hands it to him.\n\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM ENTRANCE - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nHardemeyer staggers out of the museum covered in slime.  He looks at the\ncelebrating crowd and his eyes fill with tears.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (weepy)\n\t\t\tHappy New Year, everybody!\n\nHe joins in on \"Auld Lang Syne.\"\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  CENTRAL PARK - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nThe Statue of Liberty is sprawled inert on her back in the park behind\nthe museum, her toga up over her knees.  The Mayor looks nearly suicidal.\nThe Ghostbusters stand beside him commiserating.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tShe's all right.  She's just sleeping it off.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (stricken)\n\t\t\tWe just had it restored.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThis probably isn't a good time to bring\n\t\t\tthis up, but the last time we did a job for\n\t\t\tthe city you stiffed us.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (handing the Mayor an\n\t\t\t\t invoice)\n\t\t\tThis is a bill for tonight's job.\n\nThe Mayor looks at it and gasps at the amount.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\tWhat!  This is way too much.\n\t\t\t\t (hands the bill back to\n\t\t\t\t Venkman)\n\t\t\tWe won't pay.\n\nVenkman looks at the Statue.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tI think she looks pretty good here, don't\n\t\t\tyou?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, and a lot easier to get to than that island.\n\nRealizing he has no alternative, the Mayor sighs and takes the bill back.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\tAll right, all right.  If you can wait until\n\t\tMonday I'll issue you a check.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\tSorry.  No checks.  Company policy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tCUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. LIBERTY ISLAND - DAY (WEEKS LATER)\n</b>\nThe sun is shining brightly and Liberty is back on her pedestal where she\nbelongs.  The Mayor and a host of officials are commemorating her return.\nThe Ghostbusters, Dana, Janine and Louis are there as honored guests.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t(looking up at the statue)\n\t\tPretty impressive, huh?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t(musing)\n\t\tIt's probably the first thing my\n\t\tgrandparents saw when they came to this\n\t\tcountry.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\tFrom where -- Neptune?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\tThey came from Ostrov in Eastern Poland.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\tOstrov?  I've been there.  Good party town.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t(in a similarly reflective\n\t\t\tmood)\n\t\tMy great-grandparents were Swiss.  I still\n\t\thave the pictures they took of the statue\n\t\tfrom the boat when they arrived.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\tOh, right, you told me that.  They came to\n\t\tAmerica seeking other kinds of cheese, as I\n\t\trecall.  How about you, Winston?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tMy people weren't taking any pictures from\n\t\t\tthose slave ships, man.  And there wasn't\n\t\t\tany Statue in Charleston Harbor to welcome\n\t\t\tthem, either.  What are you, Dana?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tMiss Blue Blood?  Her family's been here\n\t\t\tsince the year 12.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThat's not true.  It was 1620.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSame difference.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWhat's your story, Pete?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tMe?  I'm a little of everything.  Some Irish,\n\t\t\tsome German, some French, Dutch -- the women\n\t\t\tin my family slept around.  And that's what\n\t\t\tmade this country great.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThat's a terrible thing to say.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo what?  It's a free country.\n\t\t\t\t (looking up at the Statue)\n\t\t\tThanks, Lib.\n\nThey all look up at the Statue.\n\n<b>EXT.  STATUE OF LIBERTY - HEAD OF STATUE - DAY\n</b>\nSlimer flies out one of the observation windows, THEME MUSIC KICKS IN and\nthe CAMERA PULLS UP and AWAY FROM the island TO a HIGH SHOT of the\nStatue, lower Manhattan and the shining sea beyond.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tFADE OUT.\n</b>\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tTHE END\n</b>\n\nNow, answer the question based on the story asconcisely as you can, using a single phrase if possible. Do not provide any explanation.\n\nQuestion: How does the slime get into Dana's apartment?\n\nAnswer:"}
{"question_id": 136, "category": "longbench_narrativeqa", "reference": ["Dr. Janosz Poha"], "prompt": "You are given a story, which can be either a novel or a movie script, and a question. Answer the question asconcisely as you can, using a single phrase if possible. Do not provide any explanation.\n\nStory: \t\t\t\t\t\tGhostbusters II\n\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\tby\n\t\t\t\t\t\tHarold Ramis\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\tand\n\t\t\t\t\t\tDan Aykroyd\n\n\t\t\t\t\t September 29, 1988\n\t\t\t\tLast revised Feburary 27, 1989\n\n\n<b>EXT.  MANHATTAN ISLAND - DAY\n</b>\nA high AERIAL SHOT of the island features the Statue of Liberty\nprominently in the foreground then TRAVELS ACROSS the harbor, OVER the\nBattery and Lower Manhattan to Greenwich Village.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - DAY\n</b>\nA car is being hoisted up by a municipal tow truck while its owner is\nhaving a terrible screaming arguement with a parking enforcement officer.\nDANA BARRETT comes home pushing a baby buggy, struggling with two full\nbags of groceries, and trying to dig her keys out of her purse. The\n\nbuilding superintendent FRANK, sees her struggling but pretends not to\nnotice.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (exasperated)\n\t\t\tFrank, do you think you could give me a hand\n\t\t\twith these bags?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\tI'm not a doorman, Miss Barrett.  I'm a\n\t\t\tbuilding superintendent.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tYou're also a human being, Frank.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reluctantly going to help)\n\t\t\tOkay, okay.  It's not my job, but what the\n\t\t\thell.  I'll do you a favor.  He takes the\n\t\t\tgrocery bags from her.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (setting the wheel brakes on\n\t\t\t\t the buggy)\n\t\t\tThank you, Frank.  I'll get the hang of this\n\t\t\teventually.\n\nShe continues digging in her purse while Frank leans over the buggy and\nmakes funny faces at the baby, OSCAR, a very cute nine-month old boy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the baby)\n\t\t\tHiya, Oscar.  What do you say, slugger?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tThat's a good-looking kid you got there, Ms.\n\t\t\tBarrett.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (finding her keys)\n\t\t\tThank you, Frank.  Oh, are you ever going to\n\t\t\tfix the radiator in my bedroom?  I asked you\n\t\t\tlast week.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\tDidn't I do it?\n\n<b>BABY BUGGY\n</b>\nIt starts to vibrate as if shaken by an unseen hand.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - BABY - DAY\n</b>\nHe GURGLES with delight at the movement.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - DANA AND FRANK - DAY\n</b>\nNeither of them notice the movement of the carriage.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tNo, you didn't, Frank.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, that's no problem.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThat's exactly what you said last week.\n\n<b>BUGGY WHEELS\n</b>\nThe brakes unlock themselves.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe reaches for the handlebar of the buggy, but the buggy rolls forward\njust out of her reach and stops.  Surprised by the movement, she reaches\nfor the handlebar again, but this time the buggy rolls away even\nfurther.  Alarmed now, Dana hurries after it, but the buggy keeps\nrolling down the street at ever increasing speed.\n\n<b>SIDEWALK\n</b>\nDana chases the buggy down the street, shouting to passing pedestrians\nfor help, but every time someone reaches out to stop it, the buggy\nswerves and continues unchecked.\n\n<b>INTERSECTION\n</b>\nCars, trucks, and buses speed by in both directions as the buggy races\ntoward the corner.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe puts her head down and sprints after the buggy like an Olympian.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - INTERSECTION - DAY\n</b>\nA city bus is on a collision course with the speeding baby buggy.\n\n<b>BUGGY\n</b>\nIt careens toward the corner.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - BABY - DAY\n</b>\nIts eyes are wide open with excitement.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - INTERSECTION - DAY\n</b>\nBus and buggy are closing fast as the buggy bounces over the curb and\ninto the crosswalk.\n\n<b>BUS\n</b>\nThe bus driver reacts in helpless horror as he sees the buggy enter the\nintersection at high speed.\n\n<b>BUGGY\n</b>\nIt comes to a dead stop right in the middle of the street.  The bus\ncontinues missing the buggy by inches.\n\n<b>INTERSECTION\n</b>\nCars and trucks swerve and hit their brakes as Dana runs into the\nintersection and snatches up the baby.  She hugs it close, deeply\nrelieved, then looks at the buggy with the dawning awareness that the\nsupernatural has re-entered her life.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  UPPER WEST SIDE - NEW YORK CITY STREET - GHOSTBUSTERS LOGO - DAY\n</b>\nTHEME MUSIC kicks in strongly as we see the familiar \"No Ghosts\" symbol\nand PULL BACK to reveal that it's painted on the side of Ecto-1, the\nGhostbusters' emergency vehicle, which is speeding up Broadway on the\nUpper West Side.  RAY STANTZ is driving and WINSTON ZEDDEMORE is riding\nshotgun.\n\n<b>EXT.  WEST 77TH STREET - DAY  (MOMENTS LATER)\n</b>\nThe Ectomobile pulls up in front of a carefully-restored brownstone.\nStantz and Winston, wearing their official Ghostbuster uniforms, jump\nout of the old ambulance, shoulder their proton packs and enter the\nhouse.\n\n<b>INT.  BROWNSTONE - DAY  (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nA WOMAN greets them and leads them through the expensively-furnished\nhouse.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (all business)\n\t\t\tHow many of them are there, ma'am?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWOMAN\n</b>\t\t\tFourteen.  They're in the back.  I hope you can\n\t\t\thandle them.  It's been like a nightmare.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tHow big are they?\n\nShe holds her hand out indicating about four feet.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (resolute)\n\t\t\tWe'll do our best, ma'am.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWOMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThey're right out here.\n\nShe leads them to a set of French doors that open into another room.\nStantz and Winston pause to make final adjustments to their equipment.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tReady?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tI'm ready.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThen let's do it.\n\nHe pushes through the French doors and they step into the room.\n\n<b>INT.  BROWNSTONE - DAY  (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThey are immediately attacked by fourteen or fifteen screaming KIDS\nbetween the ages of seven and ten.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tKIDS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (disappointed)\n\t\t\tGhostbusters!!  Boooo!!\n\nTables are set with party favors, ice cream and birthday cake and the\nroom is strewn with discarded toys and games.  A couple of weary parents\nsink onto lawn chairs as Stantz and Winston take over the party.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (trying his best)\n\t\t\tHow you doin', kids?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLITTLE BOY\n</b>\t\t\t\t (nasty)\n\t\t\tI though we were having He-Man.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tHe-Man couldn't make it today.  That's why\n\t\t\twe're here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tBOY\n</b>\t\t\tMy dad says you're full of crap.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (stopped cold)\n\t\t\tWell, a lot of people have trouble believing\n\t\t\tin the paranormal.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tBOY\n</b>\t\t\tNo, he just says you're full of crap and that's\n\t\t\twhy you went out of business.\n\nHe kicks Stantz in the leg.  Stantz grabs him by the shirtfront.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (low and menacing)\n\t\t\tI'm watching you.\n\t\t\t\t (to Winston)\n\t\t\tSong.\n\nWinston switches on a tiny TAPE RECORDER which starts PLAYING the\nGhostbusters THEME SONG. Stantz and WInston start singing\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ AND WINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t'There's something wrong in the neighborhood.\n\t\t\tWho you gonna call?'\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tKIDS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (all together)\n\t\t\tHe-Man!!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. WEST 77TH STREET - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nStantz and Winston wearily load their equipment into the Ectomobile.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tThat's it, Ray.  I've had it.  No more parties.\n\t\t\tI'm tired of taking abuse from over-privileged\n\t\t\tnine-year-olds.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tCome on, Winston.  We can't quit now.  The\n\t\t\tholidays are coming up.  It's our best season.\n\nThey get in the car\n\n<b>INT.  ECTO-1 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nStantz tries to start the car, but the engine won't turn over.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tGive it up, Ray.  You're living in the past.\n\t\t\tGhostbusters doesn't exist anymore.  In a year\n\t\t\tthese kids won't even remember who we are.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (tries to start the car again)\n\t\t\tUngrateful little Yuppie larvae.  After all we\n\t\t\tdid for this city.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, what did we do, Ray?  The last real job\n\t\t\twe had we bubbled up a hundred foot marshmallow\n\t\t\tman and blew the top three floors off an uptown\n\t\t\thighrise.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, but what a ride.  You can't make a\n\t\t\thamburger without chopping up a cow.\n\nHe turns the key again, the ENGING TURNS OVER, then starts GRINDING and\nCLUNKING disastrously, chewing up vital parts and dropping twisted bits\nof metal onto the pavement.  Finally, with a BLAST of black sooty\nexhaust from the tailpipe, Ecto-1 shudders and dies.  Frustrated, Stantz\nbangs his head lightly on the steering wheel\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  WKRR-TV STUDIO RECEPTION AREA - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nA bank of monitors in the lobby show the program now running on WKRR,\nChannel 10 in New York. We PUSH IN ON one of the monitors as a title\ncard and logo come up accompanied by some EERIE SYNTHESIZER MUSIC, and\nwe return to the show in progress: \"World of the Psychic with Dr. Peter\nVenkman.\"  There is a video dissolve to a standard talk show set and\nsitting there is our host PETER VENKMAN, the renowned and somewhat\ninfamous ex-Ghostbuster.\n\n<b>VENKMAN\n</b>\nHe turns TO CAMERA and talks to his viewers in a suavely engaging tone,\nunderstated and intimate.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHi, welcome back to the 'World of the Psychic,'\n\t\t\tI'm Peter Venkman and I'm chatting with my guest,\n\t\t\tauthor, lecturer and of course, psychic, Milton\n\t\t\tAnglund.\n\t\t\t\t (to his guest)\n\t\t\tMilt, your new book is called The End of the\n\t\t\tWorld.  Isn't that kind of like writing about\n\t\t\tgum disease.  Yes, it could happen, but do you\n\t\t\tthink anybody wants to read a book about it?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMILTON\n</b>\t\t\tWell, I think it's important for people to know\n\t\t\tthat the world is in danger.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, so can you tell us when it's going to\n\t\t\thappen or do we have to buy the book?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMILTON\n</b>\t\t\tI predict that the world will end at the\n\t\t\tstroke of midnight on New Year's Eve.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThis year?  That's cutting it a little close,\n\t\t\tisn't it?  I mean, just from a sales point of\n\t\t\tview, the book just came out, right?  So you're\n\t\t\tnot even looking at the paperback release for\n\t\t\tmaybe a year.  And it's going to be at least\n\t\t\tanother year after that if the thing has\n\t\t\tmovie-of-the-week or mini-series potential.\n\t\t\tYou would have been better off predicting 1992\n\t\t\tor even '94 just to be safe.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMILTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (irritated)\n\t\t\tThis is not just some money-making scheme!  I\n\t\t\tdidn't just make up the date.  I have a strong\n\t\t\tpsychic belief that the world will end on New\n\t\t\tYear's Eve.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (placating)\n\t\t\tWell, for your sake, I hope you're right.  But\n\t\t\tI think my other guest may disagree with you.\n\t\t\tElaine, you had another date in mind?\n\nThe CAMERA REVEALS ELAINE, an attractive, aggressive New Jersey\nhousewife, sitting on the other side of Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tELAINE\n</b>\t\t\tAccording to my sources, the world will end\n\t\t\ton February 14, in the year 2016.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tValentine's Day.  That's got to be a bummer.\n\t\t\tWhere did you get that date, Elaine?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tELAINE\n</b>\t\t\tI received this information from an alien.  I\n\t\t\twas at the Paramus Holiday Inn, I was having\n\t\t\ta drink in the bar when he approached me and\n\t\t\tstarted talking.  Then he must have used some\n\t\t\tsort of ray or a mind control device because\n\t\t\the made me follow him to his room and that's\n\t\t\twhere he told me about the end of the world.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYour alien had a room in the Holiday Inn?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tELAINE\n</b>\t\t\tIt may have been a room on the spacecraft made\n\t\t\tup to look like a room in the Holiday Inn.  I\n\t\t\tcan't be sure, Peter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (humoring her)\n\t\t\tNo, you can't, and I think that's the whole\n\t\t\tproblem with aliens; you just can't trust them.\n\t\t\tYou may get some nice ones occasionally like\n\t\t\tStarman or E.T., but most of them turn out to\n\t\t\tbe some kind of lizard.  Anyway, we're just\n\t\t\tabout out of time.\n\t\t\t\t (does his wrap-up right TO\n\t\t\t\t the CAMERA)\n\t\t\tNext week on 'World of the Psychic,' hairless\n\t\t\tpets.\n\t\t\t\t (holds up a hairless cat)\n\t\t\tUntil then, this is Peter Venkman saying ...\n\t\t\t\t (puts a finger to his temple\n\t\t\t\t and sends out a though to his\n\t\t\t\t viewers)\n\t\t\t... Good night.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT. TV STUDIO - CORRIDOR - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nVenkman comes out of the studio squabbling with his producer, NORMAN, a\nwell-meaning young incompetent.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhere do you find these people?  I thought\n\t\t\twe were having the telekinetic guy who bends\n\t\t\tthe spoons?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tNORMAN\n</b>\t\t\tA lot of the better psychics won't come on the\n\t\t\tshow.  They think you're too skeptical.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSkeptical!  Norman, I'm a pushover.  I think\n\t\t\tprofessional wrestling is real.\n\nThere is a small commotion down the hall as two plainclothes cops come\nout of the next studio followed by a group of mayoral assistants.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Norman)\n\t\t\tWhat's all this?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tNORMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThey just interviewed the mayor on 'Cityline.'\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThe Mayor!  He's a friend of mine.\n\nVenkman starts down the hall as the MAYOR and his principal aide, JACK\nHARDEMEYER, come walking out of the studio.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (calling to the Mayor)\n\t\t\tLenny!\n\nThe Mayor sees Venkman, blanches and hurries off, pretending not to know\nhim.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (starts to follow him)\n\t\t\tLenny!  It's Pete Venkman!\n\nThe plainclothesmen cut Venkman off and Hardemeyer puts a heavy hand\nagainst Venkman's chest.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (snide)\n\t\t\tCan I help you?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (dangerous)\n\t\t\tYeah, you can get your hand off my chest.\n\nHardemeyer smiles and drops his hand.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tI'm Jack Hardemeyer.  I'm the mayor's assistant.\n\t\t\tWhat can I do for you?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm an old friend of the mayor's.  I just\n\t\t\twant to say hello to him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (scornful)\n\t\t\tI know who you are, Doctor Venkman.  Busting\n\t\t\tany ghosts lately?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNo, that's what I want to talk to the mayor\n\t\t\tabout.  We did a little job for the city a\n\t\t\twhile back and we ended up getting sued,\n\t\t\tscrewed and tattooed by deskworms like you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (bristling)\n\t\t\tLook, you stay away from the mayor.  Next fall,\n\t\t\tbarring a disaster, he's going to be elected\n\t\t\tgovernor of this state and the last thing we\n\t\t\tneed is for him to be associated with two-bit\n\t\t\tfrauds and publicity hounds like you and your\n\t\t\tfriends.  You read me?\n\nHardemeyer walks off with the two cops.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, I get it.  But I want you to tell Lenny\n\t\t\tthat, because of you, I'm not voting for him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. MANHATTAN MUSEUM OF ART - DAY\n</b>\nThe broad front steps of the museum are crowded with tourists and\nvisitors.  Dana arrives carrying a portfolio and artist's tackle box and\nenters the museum.\n\n<b>INT. MUSEUM - RESTORATION STUDIO - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nWe are FULL-FRAME ON a larger-than-life, full-figure portrait of VIGO\nTHE CARPATHIAN, a demented and sadistic 16th century despot with an\nincredibly powerful evil presence.  Then we PULL BACK to reveal the\nstudio, which is a large open space on the top floor of the museum, lit\nby large skylights in the ceiling.  Working on the Vigo painting is\nJANOSZ POHA, a youngish art historian and painter, the head of the\ndepartment, quirky, intense and somewhat creepy.  Janosz is staring\nlongingly across the room at Dana.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe is carefully cleaning a 19th Century landscape painting, still\npreoccupied by the extraordinary near-accident with the buggy.  Janosz\nwatches her for a moment, then comes up behind her and looks over her\nshoulder.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with an East European accent)\n\t\t\tStill working on the Turner?\n\nDana jumps, startled by the intrusion.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tOh, yes, I got in a little late this morning,\n\t\t\tJanosz.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou know, you are really doing very good work\n\t\t\there.  I think soon you may be ready to assist\n\t\t\tme in some of the more important restorations.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThank you, Janosz.  I've learned a lot here,\n\t\t\tbut now that my baby's a little older, I was\n\t\t\thoping to rejoin the orchestra.\n\n<b>VIGO PAINTING\n</b>\nAt the mention of Dana's baby, the figure of Vigo miraculously turns his\nhead and looks at Dana.\n\n<b>JANOSZ AND DANA\n</b>\nNeither of them notice the movement in the painting.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (disappointed)\n\t\t\tWe'll be very sorry to lose you.  Perhaps I\n\t\t\tcould take you to lunch today?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tActually, I'm not eating lunch today.  I have\n\t\t\tan appointment.\n\t\t\t\t (looks at her watch)\n\t\t\tIn fact, I'd better go.\n\nShe starts gathering up her things.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tEvery day I ask you, and every day you've got\n\t\t\tsomething else to do.  Do I have bad breath\n\t\t\tor something?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (trying to brush him off)\n\t\t\tI'm sorry.  Perhaps some other time.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, I'll take a raincheck on that.\n\nJanosz smiles at her as she exits, then goes back to his easel.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to himself)\n\t\t\tI think she likes me.\n\nHe switches on an English language TAPE and starts practicing the\nphrases as he resumes working.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. UNIVERSITY - DAY\n</b>\nDana Barrett crosses the quad and enters a modern building.  A sign\nidentifies it as \"The Institute for Advanced Theoretical Research.\"\n\n<b>INT. UNIVERSITY - DAY (A LITTLE LATER)\n</b>\nDana is explaining the buggy incident to EGON SPENGLER, the soberly\nintellectual techno-wizard and former Ghostbuster, as he conducts an\nexperiment assisted by a research team of graduate students, all of whom\nare Japanese, Chinese, or Korean.  The device he is testing is a black\nbox about the size of a Sony Watchman with both digital and graphic\ndisplays.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t... and then the buggy just suddenly stopped\n\t\t\tdead in the middle of the street\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\n\t\t\tDid anyone else see this happen?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHundreds of people.  Believe me, I didn't\n\t\t\timagine this.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI'm not saying you did.  In science we always\n\t\t\tlook for the simplest explanation.\n\nAn ASSISTANT interrupts.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tASSISTANT\n</b>\t\t\tWe're ready, Dr. Spengler\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Assistant)\n\t\t\tWe'll start with the negative calibration.\n\nHe picks up the device and prepares to test it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (curious)\n\t\t\tWhat are you working on, Egon?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI'm trying to determine whether human\n\t\t\temotional states have a measurable effect on\n\t\t\tthe psychomagnetheric energy field.  It's a\n\t\t\ttheory Ray and I were working on when we had\n\t\t\tto dissolve Ghostbusters.\n\nAn assistant draws a curtain revealing a large picture window, actually\na two-way mirror, that looks into a small waiting room.  Inside the\nwaiting room they can see but not hear a youngish couple having a heated\narguement.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tThey think they're here for marriage\n\t\t\tcounseling.  We've kept them waiting for two\n\t\t\thours and we've been gradually increasing the\n\t\t\ttemperature in the room.\n\t\t\t\t (checking a heat sensor)\n\t\t\tIt's up to 95 degrees at the moment.  Now my\n\t\t\tassistant is going to enter and ask them if\n\t\t\tthey'd mind waiting another half-hour.\n\nAs Spengler, Dana, and the research team watch, the assistant enters the\nwaiting room and tells the couple about the new delay.  They explode\nwith anger both at him and each other while Spengler monitors them\nthrough the glass.  After recording his readings, he returns to his\nAssistant.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWe'll do the happiness index next.\n\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tI'd like to bring Ray in on your case, if\n\t\t\tit's all right with you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, whatever you think -- but not Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tOh no.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (affectedly casual)\n\t\t\tDo you ever see him?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tOccasionally\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHow is he these days?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tVenkman?  I think he was borderline for a\n\t\t\twhile there.  Then he crossed the border.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tDoes he ever mention me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tNo.  Not that I can recall.\n\nThey move to another two-way mirror through which they can see a lovely\nlittle girl playing with a wonderful array of toys.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (slightly disappointed)\n\t\t\tWell, we didn't part on very good terms and\n\t\t\twe sort of lost track of each other when I\n\t\t\tgot married.\n\nThe Assistant interrupts again.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tASSISTANT\n</b>\t\t\tWe're ready for the affection test.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the assistant)\n\t\t\tGood.  Send in the puppy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (continuing)\n\t\t\tI thought of calling him after my marriage\n\t\t\tended, but --.  Anyway, I appreciate you're\n\t\t\tdoing this, Egon\n\nThey watch as another assistant enters the playroom with an adorable\nCocker Spaniel puppy and gives it to the little girl.  Spengler monitors\nher as she jumps for joy and hugs the little dog.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (handing him a card)\n\t\t\tThis is my address and telephone number.\n\t\t\tWill you call me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tCertainly.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tEgon, I'd rather you didn't mention any of\n\t\t\tthis to Peter if you don't mind.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI won't.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThank you.\n\nShe shakes his hand and exits.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to his assistant)\n\t\t\tNow let's see how she reacts when we take\n\t\t\taway the puppy\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. RAY'S OCCULT BOOK STORE - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nIt's a small basement shop located on a quaint commercial block in\nGreenwich Village.  The window is crowded with occult artifacts and old\nbooks full of arcane metaphysical lore.  The TELEPHONE RINGS.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (v.o., answering the phone)\n\t\t\tRay's Occult.\n\n<b>INT. RAY'S OCCULT BOOKS - CONTINUOUS\n</b>\nThe shelves are jammed floor to ceiling with books on the paranormal.\nRay sits on a barstool behind the counter wearing an old cardigan\nsweater over a T-shirt.  He has on a pair of reading glasses and chews\non a battered, reeking pipe.  As he talks on the phone he prepares a cup\nof herb tea for Spengler who is thumbing through an arcane text.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on the phone)\n\t\t\tYeah ... mmhmm ... What do you need? ... What\n\t\t\thave I got?  I've got alchemy, astrology,\n\t\t\tapparitions, Bundu Magic Men, demon\n\t\t\tintercession, U.F.O. abductions, psychic\n\t\t\tsurgery, stigmata, modern miracles, pixie\n\t\t\tsightings, golden geese, geists, ghosts, I've\n\t\t\tgot it all -- what are you looking for? ...\n\t\t\tDon't have any.  Try the stockyards.\n\nHe hangs up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWho was that?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tSome crank.  Looking for goat hooves.  Come\n\t\t\tup with anything?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (referring to the book)\n\t\t\tThis one's interesting.  Berlin, 1939, a\n\t\t\tflower cart took off by itself and rolled\n\t\t\tapproximately half a kilometer over level\n\t\t\tground.  Three hundred eyewitnesses.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou might want to check those Duke University\n\t\t\tmean averaging studies on controlled\n\t\t\tpsychokinesis.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (going to the stacks)\n\t\t\tGood idea.\n\nThe bones hanging over the door rattle as Venkman enters the shop.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOh, hello, perhaps you could help me.  I'm\n\t\t\tlooking for an aerosol love potion I could\n\t\t\tspray on a certain Penthouse Pet that would\n\t\t\tmake her unconditionally submit to an unusual\n\t\t\tpersonal request.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOh, hiya, Pete.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo, no goat hooves, huh?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (strung)\n\t\t\tI knew that voice sounded familiar.  What's\n\t\t\tup?  How's it going?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNowhere -- fast.  Why don't you lock up and\n\t\t\tbuy me a sub?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (slightly evasive)\n\t\t\tUh, I can't.  I'm kind of working on something.\n\nSpengler steps out of the stacks.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tEgon!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tHello, Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHow've you been?  How's teaching?  I bet\n\t\t\tthose science chicks really dig that big\n\t\t\tcranium of yours, huh?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI think they're more interested in my\n\t\t\tepididymis.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI don't even want to know where that is.\n\nVenkman steps behind the counter and takes a beer from Ray's mini-fridge.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOh, your book came in, Venkman.  Magical\n\t\t\tPaths to Fortune and Power.\n\nHe hands Venkman the book.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tGreat.\n\t\t\t\t (reading the contents)\n\t\t\tSo what are you guys working on?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOh, just checking something for an old friend.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWho?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (at a loss)\n\t\t\tWho?  Just -- someone we know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOh, Ray --\n\nHe grabs Stantz by both ears and pulls up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWho?  Who?  Who?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tAaah!  Nobody!  I can't tell you!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWho, Ray?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (giving in)\n\t\t\tDana!  Dana Barrett!\n\nVenkman lets go of his ears and smiles.  Spengler looks at Stantz and\nshakes his head.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT. DANA'S APARTMENT - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThe apartment is old and creatively furnished with a comfortable mix of\nmodern and traditional pieces.  Maria, a young Hispanic woman who does\nday care for Dana, is feeding the baby in the kitchen when the DOORBELL\n<b>RINGS.\n</b>\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\nDana enters from the bedroom and crosses to the front door.  She opens\nit and admits Ray and Egon.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (hugging Ray)\n\t\t\tHi, Ray.  It's good to see you.  Thanks for\n\t\t\tcoming.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo problem.  Always glad to help -- and hug.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Spengler)\n\t\t\tHi, Egon.\n\nShe shakes his hand and is about to close the door when Venkman appears\nin the doorway.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHi, Dana.\n\nDana is caught completely off guard by Venkman's surprise appearance.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI knew you'd come crawling back to me.\n\nShe regards him coolly, as always amused and amazed at his\npresumptuousness.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHello, Peter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tYou know, Dana, I'm very very hurt that you\n\t\t\tdidn't call me first.  I'm still into all\n\t\t\tthis stuff, you know.  Haven't you ever seen\n\t\t\tmy show?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI have.  That's why I didn't call you first.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI can see that you're still very bitter about\n\t\t\tus, but in the interest of science, I'm going\n\t\t\tto give it my best shot.  Let's go to work,\n\t\t\tboys.\n\nStantz and Spengler begin a comprehensive parapsychological work-up on\nthe baby and the immediate physical environment.\n\n<b>VENKMAN AND DANA\n</b>\nVenkman starts nosing around the apartment.  Dana follows him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo what happened to Mr. Right?  I hear he\n\t\t\tditched you and the kid and moved to Europe.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHe didn't \"ditch\" me.  We had some problems,\n\t\t\the got a good offer from an orchestra in\n\t\t\tEngland and he took it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHe ditched you.  You should've married me,\n\t\t\tyou know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tYou never asked me, and every time I brought\n\t\t\tit up you'd get drowsy and fall asleep.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tMen are very sensitive, you know.  We need to\n\t\t\tfeel loved and desired, too.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tWell, when you started introducing me as \"the\n\t\t\told ball and chain,\" that's when I left.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI may have a few personal problems but one thing\n\t\t\tI am is a total professional.\n\nHe leaves her and crosses to Spengler.\n\n<b>SPENGLER\n</b>\nHe's taking a complete set of body and head measurements of the baby\nwith a tape measure and calipers.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat are you going to do, Egon?  Knit him a\n\t\t\tsnowsuit?\n\nSpengler ignores the remark and hands Venkman a specimen jar.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI'd like to have a stool specimen\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, you would.  Is that for personal or\n\t\t\tprofessional reasons?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (picking up the baby)\n\t\t\tOkay, kid.  Up you go.\n\nHe starts clowning with the baby, holding him over his head and pressing\nhis nose into the baby's belly, pretending that the baby is attacking\nhim.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHelp!  Please somebody help me!  Get him off!\n\t\t\tQuickly!  He's gone completely berserk!\n\nDana is amused and somewhat disarmed by Venkman's rapport with the baby.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tWhat do you think?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThere's no doubt about it.  He's got his\n\t\t\tfather's looks.  The kid is ugly -- extremely\n\t\t\tugly.  And smelly.\n\t\t\t\t (resumes playing with the baby)\n\t\t\tYou stink!  It's just horrible.  You are the\n\t\t\tstinkiest baby I ever smelled.\n\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tWhat's his name?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHis name is Oscar.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOscar!  You poor kid!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (losing patience)\n\t\t\tPeter, this is serious.  I need to know if you\n\t\t\tthink there's anything unusual about him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tUnusual?\n\t\t\t\t (holds up the baby and\n\t\t\t\t scrutinizes him)\n\t\t\tI don't know.  I haven't had a lot of\n\t\t\texperience with babies.\n\nHe looks at the baby, pulling his feet up, trying to get the sleeper\noff.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (taking the specimen jar)\n\t\t\tI'll do it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'll supervise.\n\n<b>INT. DANA'S APARTMENT - NURSERY - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nVenkman enters and finds Stantz monitoring the room.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tWell, Holmes, what do you think?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt's an interesting one, Pete.  If anything\n\t\t\twas going on it's totally subdued now.\n\nSpengler enters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Spengler)\n\t\t\tWhat now, Brainiac?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI think we should see if we can find\n\t\t\tanything abnormal on the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tFinding something abnormal on the street\n\t\t\tshouldn't be too hard.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. EAST 77TH STREET - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nDana walks down the street with Venkman, retracing the path of the\nrunaway buggy.  Spengler and Stantz follow, monitoring PKE valences from\nthe pavement and the buildings.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Dana, nostalgic)\n\t\t\tBrings back a lot of sweet memories, doesn't\n\t\t\tit?\n\t\t\t\t (pointing out familiar\n\t\t\t\t neighborhood sights)\n\t\t\tThere's our old cash machine.  And the dry\n\t\t\tcleaners we used to go to.  And the old\n\t\t\tvideo store.\n\t\t\t\t (he wipes away an imaginary\n\t\t\t\t tear)\n\t\t\tWe really had some good times, didn't we?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tWe definitely had a moment or two.\n\nDana stops at the intersection and points to the middle of the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThat's where the buggy stopped.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, let's take a look.\n\nVenkman walks right out into the middle of the street, completely\noblivious to the CARS HONKING and whizzing past him and starts motioning\nlike a traffic cop, bringing traffic to a standstill.  Then he signals\nfor Dana, Stantz and Spengler to join him in the middle of the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reading the PKE meter)\n\t\t\tIs this the spot?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tA little to the left.  Right there!  That's\n\t\t\twhere it stopped.\n\nStantz reads the PKE meter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNothing.  Not a trace.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWhy don't we try the Giga-meter?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat's that?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tEgon and I have been working on a gauge to\n\t\t\tmeasure psychomagnetheric energy in GEVs -\n\t\t\tgiga electron volts.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tThat's a thousand million electron volts.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI knew that.\n\nSpengler switches on the Giga-meter, the device he was testing in the\nlab, and passes it over the spot on the street where the buggy stopped.\nThe indicator goes right into the red zone and the DEVICE starts CLICKING\n<b>WILDLY.\n</b>\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI think we hit the honeypot, boys.  There's\n\t\t\tsomething brewing under the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (worried, to Venkman)\n\t\t\tPeter, do you think maybe I have some genetic\n\t\t\tproblem or something that makes me vulnerable\n\t\t\tto these supernatural things.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou mean like the time you got possessed and\n\t\t\tturned into a monster terror dog?  No, not\n\t\t\ta chance.  Total coincidence.\n\t\t\t\t (to Stantz and Spengler)\n\t\t\tAm I right?\n\nStantz and Spengler look at him skeptically, not convinced by the\ncoincidence theory.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MANHATTAN MUSEUM OF ART - LATE AFTERNOON\n</b>\nThe museum has just closed for the day and the last of the visitors and\nemployees are leaving.\n\n<b>INT.  RESTORATION STUDIO - SAME TIME\n</b>\nJanosz is working late on the painting of Vigo.\n\n<b>VIGO PAINTING\n</b>\nUnnoticed by Janosz, the eyes of Vigo start to glow.\n\n<b>JANOSZ\n</b>\nHe touches his brush to the canvas and a powerful current of red,\ncrackling energy surges through the brush and courses through his body,\ndriving him to his knees.\n\n<b>PAINTING\n</b>\nThe figure of Vigo comes to life, turns toward Janosz and gestures\ndramatically at him.  Then he speaks to Janosz in a commanding voice.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tI, Vigo, the scourge of Carpathia, the\n\t\t\tsorrow of Moldavia, command you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (in agony)\n\t\t\tCommand me, lord.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tOn a mountain of skulls in a castle of pain,\n\t\t\tI sat on a throne of blood.  What was will\n\t\t\tbe, what is will be no more.  Now is the\n\t\t\tseason of evil.  Find me a child that I might\n\t\t\tlive again.\n\nBolts of red-hot energy shoot from the eyes of Vigo into Janosz's eyes.\nHe screams and falls to his knees.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. COFFEE SHOP - EAST 77TH STREET - NIGHT\n</b>\nVenkman and Stantz come out with small boxes containing coffee,\nsandwiches and Danish and start walking up the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI love this.  We're onto something really\n\t\t\tbig.  I can smell it, Ray.  We're going to\n\t\t\tmake some headlines with this one.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tHey, hey, hey, stresshound!  Are you nuts?\n\t\t\tIf anybody found out about this we'd be in\n\t\t\tserious trouble.  The judge couldn't have\n\t\t\tbeen clearer - no ghostbusting.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tRelax.  We're going to keep this whole thing\n\t\t\tnice and quiet, low key, no profile.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nSpengler, wearing a hardhat, is JACKHAMMERING a hole in the middle of the\nstreet.  Safety cones and reflectors have been set up and a small area is\nlit by strong work lights.\n\n<b>POLICE CAR\n</b>\nIt turns onto East 77th Street, cruises slowly up to the makeshift\nworksite and stops.  The noise of the JACKHAMMER is so loud, Spengler\ndoesn't notice the police car and the two COPS inside looking at them.\nFinally, he looks up, sees the police car and freezes.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRST COP\n</b>\t\t\tHow ya doing?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reeking with guilt)\n\t\t\tFine!  It's cutting fine now.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRST COP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (curious)\n\t\t\tWhy are you cutting?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (looking for one of the\n\t\t\t\t others)\n\t\t\tWhy are we cutting?  Uh - boss!\n\nVenkman and Stantz arrive just in time wearing Con Ed hardhats, doing a\ngood imitation of a Consolidated Edison repairman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRST COP\n</b>\t\t\tWhat are you doing here?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (belligerent)\n\t\t\tWhat the hell's it look like we're doing?\n\t\t\tWe're bustin out asses over here 'cause\n\t\t\tsome douchebag downtown ain't got nothin'\n\t\t\tbetter to do than make idiots like us work\n\t\t\tlate on a Friday night, right?\n\t\t\t\t (looks to Spengler for\n\t\t\t\t agreement)\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with a \"right on\" fist)\n\t\t\tYo.\n\nThe cops seem satisfied by the explanation.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRST COP\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, boys, take it easy.\n\nThey drive off.  Spengler breathes a great sigh of relief and starts\nrubbing his sore shoulders.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tYou were supposed to help me with this.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou need the exercise.\n\nStantz resumes JACKHAMMERING, while Venkman and Spengler clear the\nrubble from the hole.  Suddenly he hits metal.  They clear away\ngenerations of paving material revealing an ornate iron manhole cover.\nThe manhole cover bears a strange logo and the letters NYPRR.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (examing it)\n\t\t\tNYPRR.  What the hell -- ?  Help me lift\n\t\t\tthis.\n\nThey prey off the iron cover with crowbars, uncovering a very dark and\nvery deep abyss.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shining a flashlight into\n\t\t\t\t the hole)\n\t\t\tWow!  It's an old airshaft.  It just goes\n\t\t\tforever.\n\nSpengler leans in with the giga-meter which is reading even higher now.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tVery intense.  We need a deeper reading.\n\t\t\tSomebody has to go down there.\n\nVenkman and Spengler both look at Ray.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThanks, boys.\n\nThey snap Stantz into a harness and lower him into the hole on a strong\ncable attached to a winch.  Ray calls out orders to them as he descends\ndeeper and deeper.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\t\t (his voice echoing in the\n\t\t\t\t airshaft)\n\t\t\tKeep going -- more -- more --\n\n<b>INT.  HOLE - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nStantz rappels off the sides of the airshaft as he continues his descent\nin total darkness.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (using a radio now)\n\t\t\tLower -- lower --\n\t\t\t\t (to himself)\n\t\t\tGee, this really is deep.\n\nSuddenly, his feet kick thin air as he gets to the bottom of the airshaft\nand swings free in some kind of tunnel.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouts)\n\t\t\tHold it!  Steady!\n\nHe pulls a powerful flashlight from his utility belt and shines it into\nthe tunnel below.\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - STANTZ'S POV - NIGHT\n</b>\nHe is suspended near the top of a beautifully preserved chamber with\nrounded, polished tile walls ardorned with intricate, colorfully enameled\nArt Nouveau mosaics.  A finely inlaid sign identifies it as VAN HORNE\n<b>STATION.\n</b>\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe pans the walls with his flashlight, admiring the excellent tilework,\nand speaks quietly to Venkman and Spengler over his walkie-talkie.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reverently)\n\t\t\tThis is it, boys, the end of the line.  Van\n\t\t\tHorne Station.  The old New York Pneumatic.\n\t\t\tIt's still here.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - HOLE - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nVenkman has no idea what he's talking about.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (explaining)\n\t\t\tThe New York Pneumatic Railway.  It was an\n\t\t\texperimental subway system.  Fan-forced\n\t\t\tair-trains, built around 1870.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (over the walkie-talkie)\n\t\t\tThis is about as deep as you can go under\n\t\t\tManhattan without digging your own hole.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tWhat's the reading?\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nStantz shines his flashlight on the meter and whistles at the extremely\nhigh reading.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on the radio)\n\t\t\tOff the top of the scale.  This place is\n\t\t\treally hot.  Lower me to the floor.\n\nAs Venkman and Spengler feed him some more cable, he pans his flashlight\ndown the wall of the station, then onto the floor.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouts)\n\t\t\tHold it!!  Stop!!  Whoa!!\n\n<b>INT. VAN HORNE STATION - STANTZ'S POV - FLOOR - NIGHT\n</b>\nBelow him is a river of bubbling seething, glowing slime, a veritable\ntorrent of disgusting ooze.\n\nAs he stares into the foul effluent, we become aware of the strangely\namplified and magnified sounds of great ENGINES THROBBING and pulsing in\nthe bowels of the city, of WATER RUSHING through pipes, STEAM HISSING\nthrough ducts, the muffled RUMBLE of the SUBWAY and the ROAR of TRAFFIC,\nand mixed with it all, the unmistakable sounds of human conflict and pain\n-- VOICES SHOUTING in anger, SCREAMING in fear, GROANING in pain, a sad\nand eerie symphony.\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - STANTZ - NIGHT\n</b>\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (ranting on the radio)\n\t\t\tOh, my God!  It's a seething, bubbling,\n\t\t\tpsychic cess!  Interlocked tubes of plasm,\n\t\t\tcrackling with negative GEVs!  It's glowing\n\t\t\tand moving!  It's -- it's a river of slime!!\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe dangles from the end of the cable, holding his feet up as high as he\ncan.  He unhooks a device from his utility belt and pulls the trigger on\nit, shooting out a long telescoping fishing-pole with a scoop on the end.\nReaching down, he scoops up a sample of the slime and starts retracting\nthe pole.\n\n<b>SLIME\n</b>\nSuddenly, a grotesque arm with a long skeletal fingers reaches up out of\nthe slime and snatches at Stantz's dangling feet.  He jerks his legs up\nas several more arms poke up out of the slime and reach for him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on the radio)\n\t\t\tHaul me up, Venkman!  Now!\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - HOLE - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nVenkman and Spengler start hauling in the cable as a Con Ed Supervisor's\ncar drives up, and behind it, the same police car they saw earlier.  A\nburly SUPERVISOR gets out and crosses toward them, followed by the two\ncops.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSUPERVISOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (no nonsense)\n\t\t\tOkay, what's the story here?\n\nVenkman and Spengler stop pulling up the cable and Venkman tries the\nbelligerent worker ploy again, only this time he's wearing a Nynex\nhardhat.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat, I got time for this?  We got three\n\t\t\tthousand phones out in the Village and about\n\t\t\teight million miles of cable to check.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSUPERVISOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (not buying it)\n\t\t\tThe phone lines are over there.\n\t\t\t\t (points to the curb)\n\nVenkman pops Spengler on the head.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI told ya!\n\nStantz can be heard ranting over Venkman's walkie-talkie.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\t\t (filtered)\n\t\t\tHelp!  Help!  Pull me up!  It's alive!  It's\n\t\t\teating my boots.\n\nVenkman switches off the walkie-talkie.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRST COP\n</b>\t\t\tYou ain't with Con Ed or the phone company.\n\t\t\tWe checked.  Tell me another one.\n\nVenkman stares at the Cop for a long moment.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tGas leak?\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - SAME TIME\n</b>\nStantz is hanging there, looking down into the shaft at the slime which\nis now bubbling up the shaft after him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouting)\n\t\t\tGet me out of here!!\n\nDesperate now, he kicks wildly and knocks loose a section of an old,\nrusting conduit.\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - BOTTOM OF THE SHAFT\n</b>\nThe conduit falls on a heavy electrical transmission line, ripping\nthrough the cable with a SHOWER OF SPARKS.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - HOLE - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n</b>\nVenkman, Spengler, the cops and the supervisor all react to a bright\nFLASH deep down in the hole and a SHOUT from Stantz.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - STREET - NIGHT\n</b>\nOne by one, all the streetlights go out; then the lights on all the\nbuildings along East 77th street; then the whole neighborhood blacks\nout, and finally the entire city is plunged into darkness.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\tSorry.\n\n<b>INT. DANA BARRETT'S APARTMENT - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nShe walks around in the dark lighting candles and placing them all over\nthe living room.  Then she finds a transistor radio and turns it on for\ninformation about the blackout.  She listens to a special news report\nfor a moment, then has a compelling impulse to go check on the baby.\nShe crosses to the nursery carrying a candle and quietly opens the door\nand looks in.  Suddenly the DOORBELL RINGS, scaring her half to death.\nLeaving the chain on the door, she opens it a crack and sees Janosz\nstanding in the hall, eerily lit by a red emergency spot at the end of\nthe hallway.  He looks slightly dazed and even creepier.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (surprised)\n\t\t\tJanosz?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tHello, Dana.  I happened to be in the\n\t\t\tneighborhood and I thought I'd stop by to\n\t\t\tsee if everything's all right with you --\n\t\t\tyou know, with the blackout and everything?\n\t\t\tAre you okay?  Is the baby all right?\n\nHis affected concern is chilling.  She is frightened but conceals it\nfrom him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (mechanically and cautiously)\n\tWe're fine, Janosz.\n\nHe tires to look around her into the apartment.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tDo you need anything?  You want me to come\n\t\t\tin?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tNo, everything's fine.  Honestly.  Thanks\n\t\t\tanyway.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, just thought I'd check.  Good night,\n\t\t\tDana.  Sleep well.  Don't let the bedbugs\n\t\t\tbite you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tGood night, Janosz.\n\nShe closes the door behind him and double locks it, then stands there\nstaring into the candlelight, alone and afraid.\n\n<b>INT.  HALLWAY OF DANA'S BUILDING - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nJanosz stands there in semi-darkness, then his eyes light up like\nheadlights and he walks off down the hall.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - WITNESS STAND - NEXT DAY\n</b>\nThe JUDGE, a rather sour-looking jurist of the old school, calls the\ncourt to order.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tI want to make one thing very clear before\n\t\t\twe go any further.  The law does not recognize\n\t\t\tthe existence of ghosts, and I don't believe\n\t\t\tin them either, so I don't want to hear a\n\t\t\tlot of malarkey about goblins and spooks and\n\t\t\tdemons.  We're going to stick to the facts\n\t\t\tin this case and save the ghost stories for\n\t\t\tthe kiddies.  Understood?\n\n<b>DEFENSE TABLE\n</b>\nStantz leans over and whispers to Spengler.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tSeems like a pretty open-minded guy, huh?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tHis nickname is \"The Hammer.\"\n\nStantz and Spengler are seated with their attorney LOUIS TULLY, lawyer,\nCPA and former demonic possession victim.  Louis is desperately paging\nthrough a mountain of legal textbooks.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (nervous)\n\t\t\tI think you're making a big mistake here,\n\t\t\tfellas.  I do mostly tax law and some probate\n\t\t\tstuff occasionally.  I got my law degree at\n\t\t\tnight school.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThat's all right.  We got arrested at night.\n\n<b>SPECTATORS' GALLERY\n</b>\nVenkman is talking to Dana at the wooden rail in front of the gallery.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI wish I could stay.  I feel personally\n\t\t\tresponsible for you being here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou are personally responsible.  If I can\n\t\t\tget conjugal rights, will you visit me at\n\t\t\tSing Sing?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tPlease don't say that.  You won't go to prison.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDon't worry about me.  I'm like a cat.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tYou mean you cough up hairballs all over\n\t\t\tthe rug?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm El Gato.  I always land on my feet.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (sincerely)\n\t\t\tGood luck.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThanks.\n\nShe gives him a quick, unexpected kiss and exits.  Venkman savors it for\na moment then goes back to the defense table.\n\n<b>PROSECUTION TABLE\n</b>\nJack Hardemeyer, the mayor's principal aide, is goading the PROSECUTOR,\na very sober, humorless woman in her late thirties.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tHow are you doing, hon?  Just put these guys\n\t\t\taway fast and make sure they go away for a\n\t\t\tlong, long time.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tIt shouldn't be hard with this list of charges.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tGood.  Very good.  The mayor and future\n\t\t\tgovernor won't forget this.\n\nHe smiles conspiratorially and makes a point of passing the defense table\non his way out of the courtroom.\n\n<b>DEFENSE TABLE\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters look up as Hardemeyer approaches.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (gloating)\n\t\t\tNice going, Venkman.  Violating a judicial\n\t\t\trestraining order, willful destruction of\n\t\t\tpublic property, fraud, malicious mischief\n\t\t\t-- smooth move.  See you in a couple years\n\t\t\t-- at your first parole hearing.\n\nHerdemeyer exits.  Louis looks devastated.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tGee, the whole city's against us.  I think\n\t\t\tI'm going to be sick.\n\nSpengler hands him a waste basket as the Prosecutor calls her first\nwitness.\n\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - WITNESS STAND - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThe Con Ed Supervisor is testifying.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tMr. Fianella, please look at Exhibits A\n\t\t\tthrough F on the table over there.  Do you\n\t\t\trecognize that equipment?\n\n<b>EXHIBIT TABLE\n</b>\nLying on the table are the basic tools of the Ghostbusting trade: three\nproton packs and particle throwers, a couple of ghost traps, and various\nmeters and detection devices.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCON ED\n</b>\t\t\t\t (o.c.)\n\t\t\tThat's the stuff the cops found in their\n\t\t\ttruck.\n\n<b>WITNESS STAND\n</b>\nShe continues.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tDo you know what this equipment is used for?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCON ED\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shrugs)\n\t\t\tI don't know.  Catching ghosts, I guess.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Judge)\n\t\t\tMay I remind the court that the defendants\n\t\t\tare under a judicial restraining order that\n\t\t\tspecifically forbids them from performing\n\t\t\tservices as paranormal investigators and\n\t\t\teliminators.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tSo noted.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tNow, Mr. Fianella, can you identify the\n\t\t\tsubstance in the jar on the table marked\n\t\t\tExhibit F?\n\n<b>PROSECUTOR\n</b>\nShe goes to the exhibit table and picks up a specimen jar containing the\nslime sample Stantz removed from the tunnel.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCON ED\n</b>\t\t\tI been working underground for Con Ed for\n\t\t\t27 years and I never saw anything like that\n\t\t\tin my life.  We checked out that tunnel the\n\t\t\tnext day and we didn't find nothing.  If it\n\t\t\twas down there, they must have put it there.\n\n<b>DEFENSE TABLE\n</b>\nVenkman and Spengler look at Stantz.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (defensively)\n\t\t\tHey, I didn't imagine it.  There must have\n\t\t\tbeen ten thousand gallons of it down there.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tIt may be ebbing and flowing from some tidal\n\t\t\tsource.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (nervously)\n\t\t\tShould I say that?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI doubt that they'd believe us.\n\nLouis moans and goes back to his notes.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t WIPE TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - WITNESS STAND - LATER\n</b>\nVenkman himself is on the stand and Louis is questioning him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tSo like you were just trying to help out\n\t\t\tyour old friend because she was scared and\n\t\t\tyou didn't really mean to do anything bad\n\t\t\tand you really love the city and won't ever\n\t\t\tdo anything like this again, right?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tObjection, your Honor.  He's leading the\n\t\t\twitness.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tThe witness is leading him.  Sustained.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, let me rephrase that question.\n\t\t\t\t (to venkman)\n\t\t\tDidn't you once coach a basketball team for\n\t\t\tunderprivileged children?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYes, I did.  We were city champs.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tObjection.  Irrelevant and immaterial.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tSustained.  Mr. Tully, do you have anything\n\t\t\tto ask this witness that may have some\n\t\t\tbearing on this case?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Venkman)\n\t\t\tDo I?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I think you've helped them enough already.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Judge)\n\t\t\tNo, I guess not.\n\t\t\t\t (to the Prosecutor)\n\t\t\tYour witness.\n\nThe Prosecutor rises and approaches the witness stand with relish.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tSo, Dr. Venkman, please explain to the court\n\t\t\twhy it is you and your co-defendants took it\n\t\t\tupon yourselves to dig a big hole in the\n\t\t\tmiddle of the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSeventy-seventh and First Avenue has so many\n\t\t\tholes already we didn't think anyone would\n\t\t\tnotice.\n\nThe gallery laughs and the Judge gavels for order.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tKeep that up, mister, and I'll find you in\n\t\t\tcontempt.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSorry, your Honor, but when somebody sets\n\t\t\tme up like that I can't resist.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tI'll ask you again, Dr. Venkman.  Why were\n\t\t\tyou digging the hole?  And please remember\n\t\t\tthat you're under oath.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI had my fingers crossed when they swore me\n\t\t\tin, but I'm going to tell you the truth.\n\t\t\tThere are things in this world that go way\n\t\t\tbeyond human understanding, things that\n\t\t\tcan't be explained and that most people don't\n\t\t\twant to know about anyway.  That's where we\n\t\t\tcome in.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tSo what are you saying?  That the world of\n\t\t\tthe supernatural is your special province?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I guess I'm just saying that shit happens\n\t\t\tand somebody has to deal with it.\n\nThe spectators in the gallery cheer and the judge gavels for order.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t WIPE TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - LATER\n</b>\nThe trial is nearing its end.  The Judge calls on Louis to make his\nsummation.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tDoes the counsel for the defense wish to\n\t\t\tmake any final arguements?\n\nLouis rises.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tYour honor, may I approach the bench?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (impatient)\n\t\t\tYes.\n\nLouis crosses to the judge's bench.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the judge)\n\t\t\tCan I have some of your water?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tGet on with it, counselor!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (scared)\n\t\t\tYour honor, ladies and gentlemen of the --\n\t\t\t\t (he remembers there's no\n\t\t\t\t jury)\n\t\t\taudience.  I don't think it's fair to call\n\t\t\tmy clients frauds.  Okay, the blackout was\n\t\t\ta big problem for everybody.  I was stuck in\n\t\t\tan elevator for about three hours and I had\n\t\t\tto go to the bathroom the whole time, but I\n\t\t\tdon't blame them because once I turned into\n\t\t\ta dog and they helped me.  Thank you.\n\nHe goes back to the defense table and sits down.  Stantz and Spengler\nhang their heads.  Venkman pats Louis on the back.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Louis)\n\t\t\tWay to go.  Concise and to the point.\n\n<b>JUDGE\n</b>\nHe stares at Louis, astonished at his summation.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tThat's it?  That's all you have to say?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tDid I forget something?\n\nHe searches through a disorderly pile of notes.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tThat was unquestionably the worst\n\t\t\tpresentation of a case I've ever heard in a\n\t\t\tcourt of law!  I ought to cite you for\n\t\t\tcontempt and have you disbarred.  As for\n\t\t\tyour clients, Peter Venkman, Raymond Stantz\n\t\t\tand Egon Spengler, on the charges of\n\t\t\tconspiracy, fraud and the willful destruction\n\t\t\tof public property, I find you guilty on all\n\t\t\tcounts.  I order you to pay fines in the\n\t\t\tamount of $25,000 each and I sentence you to\n\t\t\teighteen months in the city correctional\n\t\t\tfacility at Ryker's Island.\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe sees the activity in the jar\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tUh-oh, she's twitchin'.\n\n<b>THE BENCH\n</b>\nThe Judge continues\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tAnd on a more personal note, let me go on\n\t\t\trecord as saying that there is no place in\n\t\t\tdecent society for fakes, charlatans and\n\t\t\ttricksters like you who prey on the\n\t\t\tgullibility of innocent people.  You're\n\t\t\tbeneath the contempt of this court.  And\n\t\t\tbelieve me, if my hands were not tied by the\n\t\t\tunalterable fetters of the law, a law which\n\t\t\thas become in my view far too permissive and\n\t\t\tinadequate in it's standards of punishment,\n\t\t\tI would invoke the tradition of our\n\t\t\tillustrious forebearers, reach back to a\n\t\t\tsterner, purer justice and have you burned\n\t\t\tat the stake!\n\nHe hammers the bench with his gravel as the gallery erupts noisily.  Then\nhe feels a LOW RUMBLING TREMOR in the courtroom.\n\n<b>SPECIMEN JAR\n</b>\nThe slime starts to pulse and swell, pushing up the lid on the jar.\n\n<b>DEFENSE TABLE\n</b>\nStantz anticipates big trouble.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tUnder the table, boys!\n\nThe Ghostbusters duck under the defense table.\n\n<b>LOUIS\n</b>\nHe stands up and looks around fearfully.\n\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - GHOST BATTLE - DAY\n</b>\nEverybody is silent now as the rumbling increases.  All eyes turn to the\nexhibit table.  Then suddenly all Hell breaks loose as TWO FULL-TORSO\nAPPARITIONS explode out of the specimen jar.\n\n<b>JUDGE\n</b>\nHe looks up in terror at the two huge apparitions looming above him and\nrecognizes them immediately.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (in horror)\n\t\t\tOh, my God!  The Scoleri Brothers!\n\n<b>SCOLERI BROTHERS\n</b>\nBig in life, even bigger in death, the ghostly Scoleri brothers seem ten\nfeet tall.  They are strapped into electric chairs and on their heads are\nmetal electrocution caps with live, sparking electrical wires still\nattached.  Twenty-five hundred volts of electricity shoot through their\nbodies as they start to break free of the leather restraints, trying to\nget at the Judge.\n\n<b>JUDGE\n</b>\nHolding his gavel like a pitiful weapon, he crawls over to the defense\ntable where Venkman, Stantz and Spengler are now crouched, assessing the\nspectral intruders.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (terrified)\n\t\t\tYou've got to do something!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWho are they?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tThey're the Scoleri Brothers.  I tried them\n\t\t\tfor murder.  They were electrocuted up at\n\t\t\tOssining in '48.  Now they want to kill me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tMaybe they just want to appeal.\n\n<b>SCOLERI BROTHERS\n</b>\nThey break loose from the electric chairs, then turn toward the defense\ntable and BLAST it with HIGH-VOLTAGE FINGER-LIGHTNING.\n\n<b>PROSECUTOR\n</b>\nShe sprints for the door, pursued by one of the Scoleri brothers.\n\n<b>GHOSTBUSTERS\n</b>\nThey jump to safety behind the rail of the jury box, pulling the Judge\nwith them.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThese boys aren't playing around.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (desperately)\n\t\t\tYou've got to stop them.  Please!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (thinking like a lawyer)\n\t\t\tViolating a judicial restraining order could\n\t\t\texpose my clients to serious criminal\n\t\t\tpenalties.  As their attorney I'd have to\n\t\t\tadvise them against it.\n\n<b>SCOLERI BROTHERS\n</b>\nThey start punching through the jury box.\n\n<b>JUDGE\n</b>\nHe is just about hysterical with fear.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tAll right!  All right!  I'm recinding the\n\t\t\torder.  Case dismissed!!\n\t\t\t\t (he pounds his gavel on\n\t\t\t\t the floor)\n\t\t\tNow do something!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tLet's go to work, boys.\n\nWith that, the Ghostbusters leap over the rail of the jury box and dash\nacross the courtroom to the exhibit table where their proton packs were\nbeing displayed as evidence.  They strap them on hastily as the Brothers\ncontinue tearing up the seats looing for the Judge.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (slinging the pack onto\n\t\t\t\t his back)\n\t\t\tGeez, I forgot how heavy these things are.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (grabbing other gear)\n\t\t\tOkay, let's heat 'em up!\n\nThey flip the power switches on their packs and draw their particle\nthrowers.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tAll right, throwers.  Set for full neutronas\n\t\t\ton stream.\n\nThey switch on their throwers and turn to face the raging phantasms.\n\n<b>SCOLERI BROTHERS\n</b>\nThey are just about to wipe out the Judge when a loud shout distracts\nthem.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHey!  Why don't you pick on someone your own\n\t\t\tsize?\n\nThe towering ghosts turn in a fury and raise their arms, ready to shoot\nlightning at their new adversaries.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the others)\n\t\t\tOn my signal, boys.  Open 'em up -- Now!\n\nThey all pull their triggers and the wands EXPLODE with incredible\npowerful STREAMS OF ENERGY, doing even more damage to the courtroom.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSpengs, take the door.  Ray, let's try and\n\t\t\twork them down and into the corner.\n\nWorking as a team, they gradually confine the Scoleri Brothers with the\nstreams, forcing them closer and closer to the traps Ray has set out on\nthe floor.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWatch it!  I'm coming under you, Pete.\n\nThey circle around the two ghosts, prodding them with the streams while\nducking the lightning bolts shooting from their fingers.  Finally, Ray\nsees his chance and pops open the traps which emit inverted pyramids of\nlight energy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tSteady -- watch your streams -- easy now --\n\t\t\tVenky, bring him left -- Spengy, pull him\n\t\t\tdown -- trapping -- trapping -- now!\n\nHe stomps on a control pedal and the Scoleri Brothers are drawn into the\ntraps which snap shut.\n\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - TRAPS - DAY\n</b>\nLEDs on the outer casing start flashing, indicating the presence of a\nghost inside each trap.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (checking the trap)\n\t\t\tOccupado.\n\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - JUDGE - DAY (AFTER GHOST BATTLE)\n</b>\nHe sticks his head up slowly from behind the debris of his bench and\nlooks around in total amazement.\n\n<b>LOUIS\n</b>\nHe crawls out from under a chair.  Reporters and spectators get back on\ntheir feet and start buzzing about the incredible manifestation.\n\n<b>PROSECUTOR\n</b>\nShe's lying on the floor, attended to by the Bailiff and the Court Clerk.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Prosecutor)\n\t\t\tBrilliant summation.\n\n<b>GHOSTBUSTERS\n</b>\nThey break into big smiles as photographers start snapping pictures of\nthem standing in the wrecked courtroom.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tCase closed, boys.  We're back in business.\n\nThe spectators cheer and applaud.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  FIREHOUSE - DAY\n</b>\nThe old, dilapidated Ghostbusters logo comes crashing to the ground,\ndropped by a pair of workmen on a ladder, and the new logo is hoisted\ninto place over the main entrance.  It's just like the original \"No\nGhosts\" logo, but in the new one the ghost in the red circle is holding\nup two fingers.  Venkman enters the firehouse.\n\n<b>INT.  BEDROOM SET (TV COMMERCIAL - FULL SCREEN VIDEO) - NIGHT\n</b>\nA man and his wife are lying in bed reading.  The man is played by Louis\nTully and JANINE MELNITZ, the Ghostbusters' once and future receptionist,\nis playing his wife.  They are both terrible actors.  Suddenly, a ghost,\nactually a very bad puppet on a wire, floats through the bedroom.  Janine\nsees it and screams.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tWhat is it, honey?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tIt's that darn ghost again!  I don't know\n\t\t\twhat to do anymore.  He just won't leave us\n\t\t\talone.  I guess we'll just have to move.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tDon't worry.  We're not moving.  He is.\n\nHe picks up the phone.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tWho are you going to call?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with a wink)\n\t\t\tGhostbusters.\n\nAs he starts to dial, the CAMERA PULLS BACK to reveal the Ghostbusters\nstanding in the bedroom.  Their acting isn't much better than Louis and\nJanine's.\n\n<b>GHOSTBUSTERS\n</b>\nStantz speaks directly TO the CAMERA.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI'm Ray --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm Peter --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI'm Egon --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tAnd we're the ...\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tALL\n</b>\t\t\t\t (together)\n\t\t\tGhostbusters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThat's right -- Ghostbusters.  We're back\n\t\t\tand we're better than ever with twice the\n\t\t\tknow-how and twice the particle-power to\n\t\t\tdeal with all your supernatural elimination\n\t\t\tneeds.\n\nDuring his speech, Winston can be seen in the b.g. pretending to trap the\nfake ghost.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tCareful, Winston.  He's a mean one.\n<b>\t\t\t\t (TO CAMERA)\n</b>\t\t\tAnd to celebrate our grand reopening, we're\n\t\t\tgiving you twice the value with our special\n\t\t\thalf-price 'Welcome Back' service plan.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHold on, Ray!  Half-price!  Have you gone\n\t\t\tcrazy?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI guess so, Pete, because that's not all.\n\t\t\tTell them what else we've got, Egon.\n\nSpengler actually mouths everyone else's dialogue along with them,\nwaiting for his cue.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tYou mean the Ghostbusters hot beverage\n\t\t\tthermal mugs and free balloons for the kids?\n\nHe holds up a mug and a limp, uninflated balloon.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou bet.\n\nAs Stantz wraps it up, SUPERS APPEAR at the bottom of the SCREEN: FULLY\n<b>BONDED - FULLY LICENSED - SE HABLA ESPANOL.\n</b>\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b><b>\t\t\t\t (TO CAMERA)\n</b>\t\t\tSo don't wait another minute.  Make your\n\t\t\tsupernatural problem our supernatural problem.\n\t\t\tCall now, because we're still --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tALL\n</b>\t\t\t\t (in unison, mechanically)\n\t\t\t-- Ready to believe you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  JACK HARDEMEYER'S OFFICE - DAY\n</b>\nHardemeyer is watching the Ghostbusters commercial on a TV in his office.\nHe bangs his fist on his desk and angrily switches OFF the TV.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  FIREHOUSE - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThe garage door opens and the new improved ECTOMOBILE comes ROARING out\nonto the street, its ghostly SIREN MOANING and WAILING.  Louis comes\nrunning out after it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - DAY\n</b>\nLouis comes back into the garage bay and stops as he smells a foul odor.\nHe sniffs around, following the smell.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh, geez, smells like somebody took a really\n\t\t\tbig --\n\nHe freezes.\n\n<b>INT. OFFICE AREA - LOUIS'S POV\n</b>\nSlimer, a spud-like green ghost, is hovering over Louis's desk, scarfing\ndown Louis's bag lunch.  Slimer looks up and sees Louis.\n\n<b>SLIMER AND LOUIS\n</b>\nThey both scream and run off in opposite directions.\n\n<b>SLIMER\n</b>\nHe passes right through a wall and disappears.\n\n<b>LOUIS\n</b>\nHe runs right into a wall, recovers and exits in a hurry.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (screaming)\n\t\t\tHelp!  There's a thing!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  CENTRAL PARK RESERVOIR - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nRunners of both sexes and all ages are huffing and puffing as they jog\nalong the track that circles the reservoir.  One of the runners looks\nbehind him at the sound of APPROACHING FOOTFALLS and screams.\n\n<b>GHOSTLY JOGGER\n</b>\nA ghost jogger is loping along at a pretty fair pace.  Other runners\nstumble and run screaming into the park as he passes them.  Seemingly\noblivious to the effect he's having, the ghost jogger puts two fingers to\nhis skeletal neck and checks his watch as if taking his pulse.\n\n<b>EXT. CLEARING IN PARK - DAY (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nVenkman is sitting on a park bench near the jogging track reading the\nnewspaper, eating a donut and drinking coffee from a Styrofoam cup.\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe's sitting on a bench opposite Venkman's, casually watching the jogging\ntrack.\n\n<b>GHOST JOGGER\n</b>\nHe approaches the benches where the Ghostbusters are waiting.  As the\nghost jogger passes the benches, Stantz and Venkman simultaneously hit\nconcealed control buttons.  A ghost trap buried in the track throws up a\nglowing inverted pyramid and catches the ghost jogger in mid-stride.\nStantz and Venkman close the trap and capture the ghost jogger.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (checking his watch)\n\t\t\tYou know he ran that last lap in under six\n\t\t\tminutes?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIf he wasn't dead he'd be an Olympic\n\t\t\tprospect.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  JEWELRY STORE - DAY\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters come out carrying smoking traps, wearing cheap\ndime-store Santa Claus hats.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the client)\n\t\t\tMerry Christmas!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  FIFTH AVENUE - ORREFORS GLASS STORE - DAY\n</b>\nThe Ectomobile is parked at the curb and a curious crowd looks on as the\nGhostbusters enter the store.\n\n<b>INT.  ORREFORS GLASS STORE - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n</b>\nAll the precious crystal is floating in the air, several feet above the\nglass shelves and display tables.  Stantz and Venkman are talking to the\nmanager while Winston and Spengler set up an array of electronic devices\npositioned in each corner of the store.\n\nOn a signal from Stantz, Spengler and Winston switch on the devices which\nthrow laser-type beams around the perimeter of the store.  The manager\nwatches in horror as all the GLASSWARE suddenly drops out of the air,\nSMASHES through the GLASS SHELVES and SHATTERS on the display tables.\nThere is a long pregnant pause.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the manager)\n\t\t\tSo will that be cash or a check?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - RESTORATION STUDIO - DAY (LATE AFTERNOON)\n</b>\nEveryone else has gone home.  Dana is cleaning her brushes and putting\nher supplies away.\n\n<b>VIGO PAINTING - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n</b>\nVigo turns his head and watches Dana as she walks past the painting.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe stops, vaguely aware of the movement, and looks up curiously at the\npainting.  As she starts to walk on, Vigo looks at her again, but Dana\nturns suddenly and catches the movement.  Frightened now, she hastily\nleaves the studio.\n\n<b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - DAY\n</b>\nLouis is lurking behind a pillar, peeking out at the office area.  We PAN\nDOWN TO the floor and see a foot pedal, then PAN ALONG the cord TO a\nghost trap sitting on Louis's desk.  Hanging from strings over the desk\nare several pieces of Kentucky fried chicken.\n\n<b>WALL\n</b>\nSlimer partially emerges and furtively sniffs the air, then spots the\nchicken bait.  He licks his lips, materializes completely and flies to\nthe chicken.\n\n<b>LOUIS\n</b>\nHis eyes light up and he stomps the foot pedal.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouts)\n\t\t\tGotcha!\n\n<b>DESK\n</b>\nThe trap pops open and shoots out a powerful cone of energy.  Slimer\ndodges it and escapes as a big section of the ceiling comes crashing down\non Louis's desk.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (seeing the damage)\n\t\t\tUh-oh.\n\nHe slinks off, defeated.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MANHATTAN MUSEUM OF ART - SECURITY DESK - DAY\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters commercial is playing on a portable TV on the security\ndesk.  Rudy, the Security Guard, is reading a National Enquirer with a\ngiant front-page headline: GHOSTBUSTERS SAVE JUDGE.  Venkman enters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm looking for Dana Barrett.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSECURITY GUARD\n</b>\t\t\tRoom 304 -- Restorations.\n\t\t\t\t (recognizing him)\n\t\t\tHey!  Dr. Venkman -- 'World of the Psychic.'\n\t\t\tI'm a big, big fan.  That used to be one of\n\t\t\tmy two favorite shows.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (flattered)\n\t\t\tThanks.  What's the other one?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSECURITY GUARD\n</b>\t\t\t'Bass Masters.'  It's a fishing show.  Ever\n\t\t\tsee it?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, really great.  Take it easy.\n\nHe exits.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - RESTORATION STUDIO - DAY (MOMENTS LATER)\n</b>\nDana is working on a valuable Flemish still-life by Ver Meer.  Janosz is\nat the other end of the room, still working on the painting of Vigo.\nVenkman enters and sneaks up behind Dana.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (looking at the Ver Meer)\n\t\t\tSo this is what you do, huh?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (glad to see him)\n\t\t\tOh, hello, Peter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou're really good, you know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI didn't paint it.  I'm just cleaning it.\n\t\t\tIt's an original Ver Meer.  It's worth about\n\t\t\tten million dollars.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nHe turns his head and watches Venkman and Dana.\n\n<b>VENKMAN\n</b>\nUnaware that he's being watched, Venkman squints at the still life,\nholding up his thumb like he's seen artists do.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou know you can go to Art World and get\n\t\t\tthese huge sofa-size paintings for about\n\t\t\tforty-five bucks.\n\nHe starts looking around at the other artwork in the studio.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI'm sure you didn't come here just to talk\n\t\t\tabout art.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAs a matter of fact, I stopped by to tell\n\t\t\tyou that I haven't forgotten your problem\n\t\t\tand that we're still on the case.\n\nThey are interrupted by the sudden appearance of Janosz.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (smiling at Venkman)\n\t\t\tDana, aren't you going to introduce me to\n\t\t\tyour friend?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tOh, I'm sorry.  This is Peter Venkman.\n\t\t\tPeter, Janosz Poha.\n\nVenkman warily shakes his hand, trying to size him up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (avoiding his gaze)\n\t\t\tPleasure to meet you.  I've seen you on\n\t\t\ttelevision.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHow are you?\n\t\t\t\t (looking over at the Vigo\n\t\t\t\t painting)\n\t\t\tWhat's that you're working on, Johnny?\n\nJanosz winces at the nickname but lets it go.  Venkman and Dana cross to\nthe Vigo painting.  Janosz steps protectively in front of it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt's a painting I'm restoring for the new\n\t\t\tByzantine exhibition.  It's a self-portrait\n\t\t\tof Prince Vigo, the Carpathian.  He ruled\n\t\t\tmost of Carpathia and Moldavia in the 17th\n\t\t\tCentury.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (staring at the painting)\n\t\t\tToo bad for the Moldavians.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (defensive)\n\n\t\t\tHe was a very powerful magician.  A genius\n\t\t\tin many ways and quite a skilled painter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHe was also a lunatic and a genocidal madman.\n\t\t\tI hate this painting.  I've felt very\n\t\t\tuncomfortable since they brought it up from\n\t\t\tstorage.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, it's not the kind of thing you'd want\n\t\t\tto hang in the rec room.  You know what it\n\t\t\tneeds?\n\t\t\t\t (picking up a brush)\n\t\t\tA fluffy little white kitten in the corner.\n\nVenkman reaches toward the painting, but Janosz grabs his hand.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with forced good will)\n\t\t\tWe don't go around altering valuable\n\t\t\tpaintings, Dr. Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWell, I'd make an exception in this case if\n\t\t\tI were you.\n\nDana looks disapprovingly at Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Janosz)\n\t\t\tI'll let you get back to it.  Nice meeting\n\t\t\tyou.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tMy pleasure.\n\nVenkman and Dana cross back to her workspace.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (confidentially)\n\t\t\tI may be wrong, but I think you've got a\n\t\t\tlittle crush on this guy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tGood-bye, Peter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (dragging his feet)\n\t\t\tI'd like to stay, but I really don't have\n\t\t\ttime to hang around here.  I'll call you.\n\t\t\t\t (calls out to Janosz)\n\t\t\tLater, Johnny!\n\nHe exits.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nVigo turns his head and follows Dana as she returns to her workbench.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe stops, vaguely aware of the movement, and looks up curiously at the\npainting.  As she starts to walk on, Vigo looks at her again, but Dana\nturns suddenly and catches the movement.  Frightened now, she hastily\nleaves the studio.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - LIVING QUARTERS - CONTINUOUS ACTION - DAY\n</b>\nVenkman and Winston enter and find Stantz and Spengler at work in the lab\narea.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOh good, you're here.  Spengler and I have\n\t\t\tsomething really amazing to show you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Spengler)\n\t\t\tIt's not that thing you do with your\n\t\t\tnostrils, is it?\n\nStantz goes to the refrigerator, opens the freezer, rummages around among\nthe TV dinners and frozen pizza and pulls out a slime specimen in a\nTupperware container.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Venkman)\n\t\t\tWe've been studying the stuff that we took\n\t\t\tfrom the subway tunnel.\n\nHe pops the specimen jar in the microwave and lets it thaw for a minute.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAnd now you're going to eat it?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I'm just restoring it to its normal state.\n\nHe takes the specimen out of the microwave and pours some of it into a\nlarge Petri dish.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNow watch this.\n\nHe leans over the specimen and starts shouting at it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (simulating anger)\n\t\t\tYou worthless piece of slime!!\n\t\t\t\t (as the slime starts to\n\t\t\t\t twitch and glow)\n\t\t\tYou ignorant disgusting blob!!\n\n<b>SPECIMEN\n</b>\nIt bubbles and swells, changing color with each insult.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou foul, obnoxious muck!!\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe continues venting his rage on the slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI've seen some real crud in my time, but\n\t\t\tyou're a chemical disgrace!!\n\nThe specimen doubles its size and starts spilling over the rim of the\nPetri dish.\n\n<b>STANTZ AND SPENGLER\n</b>\nThey turn to Venkman for his reaction.  He's dumbfounded.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThis is what you do with your spare time?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (very excited)\n\t\t\tThis is an incredible breakthrough, Venkman.\n\t\t\tA psychoreactive substance!  Whatever this\n\t\t\tis, it clearly responds to human emotional\n\t\t\tstates.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t'Mood slime.'  We ought to bottle this stuff\n\t\t\tand sell it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWe've found it at every event site we've\n\t\t\tbeen to lately.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (poking at the slime)\n\t\t\tYou mean this stuff actually feeds on 'bad\n\t\t\tvibes'?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tLike a goat on garbage.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWe're running tests to see if we can get an\n\t\t\tequally strong positive reaction.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat kind of tests?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (a little embarrassed)\n\t\t\tWell, we sing to it, we talk to it, we say\n\t\t\tsupportive, nurturing things --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou're not sleeping with this stuff, are you?\n\nSpengler reacts as if he might be.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt really responds to music.\n\t\t\t\t (to Spengler)\n\t\t\tLet's calm it down.\n\nSpengler picks up a guitar and he and Stantz start singing \"Cumbaya\" to\nthe slime specimen.\n\n<b>SPECIMEN\n</b>\nIt stops bubbling and starts to shrink.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tDoes it have any favorites?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt likes all the sappy stuff: 'Cumbaya,'\n\t\t\t'Everything is Beautiful,' 'It's a Small\n\t\t\tWorld' -- but it loves Jackie Wilson.\n\nVenkman and Winston watch intently as Spengler spoons some of the\npsych-reactive slime onto an old toaster.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWatch this.\n\nStantz turns on a CASSETTE PLAYER and Jackie Wilson's \"HIGHER AND HIGHER\"\nBLASTS from the speakers.\n\n<b>TOASTER\n</b>\nIt shakes, spins and actually starts moving in time with the MUSIC.\n\n<b>VENKMAN\n</b>\nHe stares in disbelief at the dancing toaster as it shoots two pieces of\ntoast into the air and catches them without missing a beat.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI don't care what you say.  This could be a\n\t\t\tmajor Christmas gift item.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tRight, and the first time someone gets mad,\n\t\t\ttheir toaster will eat their hand.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo we'll put a warning on the label.\n\nStantz turns OFF the MUSIC and the toaster stops moving.  Venkman looks\nat the toaster and sticks his fingers in the slot.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the toaster)\n\t\t\tGo ahead.  I dare you.\n\nSuddenly, he yelps as if the toaster has actually bitten into his hand\nand won't let go.  The others jump in to help him, but Venkman laughs and\neasily withdraws his hand.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tJust kidding.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  DANA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT\n</b>\nDana brings Oscar into the bathroom and lays him on the bassinet.  She's\nwearing a robe over her nightgown, preparing to bathe the baby.  She\nturns the taps on the old claw-footed bathtub, checks the water\ntemperature, then turns away and starts to undress the baby.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (talking sweetly to the\n\t\t\t\t baby)\n\t\t\tLook at you.  I think we got more food on\n\t\t\tyour shirt than we got in your mouth.\n\n<b>BATHTUB\n</b>\nThe water pouring from the faucet changes to slime and settles at the\nbottom of the tub.  Dana reaches over and turns off the water without\nlooking into the tub.  When she turns away, both taps start to spin by\nthemselves and the tub flexes and bulges.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nStill unaware, she routinely reaches over and squirts some bubble bath\ninto the tub.\n\n<b>BATHTUB\n</b>\nThe rim of the tub puckers up and the sides convulse as if swallowing the\nbubble bath.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>She picks the baby up off the bassinet and turns to place him in the tub.\nShe is just about to lower him into the water when the tub starts to\nclose up around the baby like a hugh mouth.  Dana screams, snatches the\nbaby away and runs from the room clutching Oscar to her bosom as the\nbathtub convulses and vomits up buckets of slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - SAME NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nThe big open loft space is a chaotic clutter of mismatched furniture, old\nmagazines, books, tapes, and sports equipment.  Venkman is asleep on the\nfloor, still wearing his coat, scarf, hat and gloves, having collapsed\njust short of the bedroom.  The DOORBELL RINGS, he wakes up, lumbers to\nhis feet and answers it.  He opens the door and sees Dana standing there.\nShe is wearing only a nightgown under her coat and Oscar is naked,\nwrapped in a baby blanket.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (somewhat embarrassed to\n\t\t\t\t be there)\n\t\t\tI'm sorry.  Were you on your way out?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (surprised to see her)\n\t\t\tNo, I just got in -- a couple hours ago.\n\t\t\tCome on in.\n\t\t\t\t (noting her apparel)\n\t\t\tAre we having a pajama party?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (upset)\n\t\t\tPeter, the bathtub tried to eat Oscar.\n\nVenkman looks at her for a long moment.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou know, if anyone else told me that, I'd\n\t\t\thave serious doubts.  But coming from you,\n\t\t\tI can't honestly say I'm surprised.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI must be losing my mind.  At the museum\n\t\t\ttoday I could have sworn that terrible\n\t\t\tpainting of Vigo looked right at me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWho could blame him?  Were you wearing this\n\t\t\tnightgown?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (distraught)\n\t\t\tI don't know what to do anymore.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'll get Ray and Egon to check out the\n\t\t\tbathtub.  You better stay here.\n\nHe exits to the bathroom.  She looks around the loft, amazed at the\ndisorder.  Venkman comes back immediately with an old sweatshirt and\ntakes Oscar from her.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNow this kid has a serious nudity problem.\n\nHe spreads the sweatshirt out on the sofa, lays the baby on it and starts\ntying it around him like a diaper.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the baby)\n\t\t\tThis is Joe Namath's old number, you know.\n\t\t\tYou could get a lot of chicks with this.\n\t\t\tJust don't pee in it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tPeter, what about the bathtub?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (grabs the phone and dials)\n\t\t\tWe'll take care of that.\n\t\t\t\t (on the phone)\n\t\t\tRay, Pete.  Listen, get over to Dana's right\n\t\t\taway ... Her bathtub pulled a fast one --\n\t\t\ttried to eat the kid.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tIt was full of this awful pink ooze.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Ray)\n\t\t\tSounds like another slime job ... No,\n\t\t\tthey're all right.  They're here now ...\n\t\t\tRight ... Let me know.\n\nHe hangs up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThey're going over there right now.  You\n\t\t\tmight as well make yourself at home.  Let\n\t\t\tme show you around.\n\t\t\t\t (he crosses to the kitchen area)\n\t\t\tThis is the cuisine de maison --\n\nIt's an incredible mess. The sink is piled high with dirty dishes and the\ncounters are littered with all sorts of food trash.  He grabs a big open\nHefty bag on the floor and starts throwing garbage into it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (looking at the sink)\n\t\t\tWe may have to wash some of these if you get\n\t\t\thungry --\n\t\t\t\t (he looks in the fridge)\n\t\t\t-- but there's no food anyway so forget\n\t\t\tabout it.  I have all kinds of carry-out\n\t\t\tmenus if you feel like ordering.\n\nHe opens a drawer full of pizza, barbecue and Chinese food menus, then\ncrosses to the bathroom.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tBathroom's right here -- let me just tidy\n\t\t\tup a few things.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tPeter, this is very nice, but you don't have\n\t\t\tto do any of this, you know.\n\nHe goes into the bathroom and we hear WATER RUNNING, the TOILET FLUSHING\nand more items going into the Hefty bag.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\tThe shower works but it's a little tricky.\n\t\t\tThey're both marked \"Hot.\"  It takes a little\n\t\t\tpractice, but at least this one won't try\n\t\t\tand eat you.\n\nHe comes out of the bathroom with the now-loaded Hefty bag over his\nshoulder.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tBe careful on that sofa -- it's a butt-biter.\n\t\t\tBut the bed's good and I just changed the\n\t\t\tsheets so if you get tired, feel free.  In\n\t\t\tfact, I think you should definitely plan on\n\t\t\tspending the night here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tReally?  And how would we handle the sleeping\n\t\t\tarrangements?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tFor me it's best if I sleep on my side and\n\t\t\tyou spoon up right behind me with your arms\n\t\t\taround me.  If we go the other way I'm\n\t\t\tafraid your hair will be getting in my face\n\t\t\tall night.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHow about you on the sofa and me in bed with\n\t\t\tthe baby.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOr we could do that.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThank you.\n\t\t\t\t (she picks up Oscar)\n\t\t\tPoor baby.  I think I should put him down\n\t\t\tnow.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'll put him down for you.\n\t\t\t\t (taking the baby)\n\t\t\tYou are way too short!  And your belly-button\n\t\t\tsticks out!  You're nothing but a burden to\n\t\t\tyour poor mother!\n\nVenkman carries the baby into the bedroom leaving Dana in the living\nroom, feeling more relaxed and a lot safer.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM - DAY (NEXT MORNING)\n</b>\nVenkman is waiting in front of the building as ECTO-2 pulls up and\nStantz, Spengler and Winston get out and report on Dana's apartment.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDid you find anything at Dana's?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNothing.  Just some mood-slime residue in\n\t\t\tand around the bathtub.  But we did turn up\n\t\t\tsome interesting stuff on this Vigo character\n\t\t\tyou mentioned.  I found the name Vigo the\n\t\t\tCarpathian in Leon Zundinger's Magicians,\n\t\t\tMartyrs and Madmen.  Listen to this:\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reads from xerox of entry)\n\t\t\t\"Vigo the Carpathian, born 1505, died 1610 --\"\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tA hundred and five years?  He really hung\n\t\t\ton, didn't he.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tAnd he didn't die of old age either.  He was\n\t\t\tpoisoned, stabbed, shot, hung, stretched,\n\t\t\tdisemboweled, drawn and quartered.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tI guess he wasn't too popular at the end\n\t\t\tthere.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tNo, not exactly a man of the people.\n\t\t\t\t (reads)\n\t\t\t\"Also known as Vigo the Cruel, Vigo the\n\t\t\tTorturer, Vigo the Despised, and Vigo the\n\t\t\tUnholy.\"\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThis guy was a bad monkey.  He dabbled in\n\t\t\tall the Black Arts, and listen to this\n\t\t\tprophecy.  Just before his head died, his\n\t\t\tlast words were, \"Death is but a door, time\n\t\t\tis but a window.  I'll be back.\"\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThat's it?  \"I'll be back?\"\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tIt's a rough translation from the Moldavian.\n\nThey enter the museum carrying their monitoring equipment.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - SECURITY DESK - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nRudy the guard looks up in surprise as the Ghostbusters enter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tRUDY\n</b>\t\t\tHey, Dr. Venkman.  What's going on?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWe're just going up to Restorations for a\n\t\t\tminute.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tRUDY\n</b>\t\t\tOh, I can't let you do that.  Mr. Poha told\n\t\t\tme not to let you up there anymore.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with mock seriousness)\n\t\t\tOkay, we were trying to keep this quiet but\n\t\t\tI think you can be trusted.  Tell him, Ray.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (very official)\n\t\t\tMister, you have an Ecto-paritic,\n\t\t\tsubfusionary flux in this building.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tRUDY\n</b>\t\t\tWe got a flux?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tYou got a flux and a half.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNow if you don't want to be the --\n\t\t\t\t (he counts)\n\t\t\t-- fifth person ever to die in meta-shock\n\t\t\tfrom a planar rift, I suggest you get down\n\t\t\tbehind that desk and don't move until we\n\t\t\tgive you the signal \"Stabilize -- All Clear.\"\n\nRudy gulps and starts to hunker down behind the desk as the Ghostbusters\nhead upstairs.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - RESTORATION STUDIO - DAY (MOMENTS LATER)\n</b>\nJanosz is working on the Vigo painting when the Ghostbusters enter.  He\nrushes over and stops them at the door.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tDr. Venkman?  Dana is not here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tThen why have you come?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWe got a major creep alert and we're just\n\t\t\tgoing down the list.  Your name was first.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Spengler and Winston)\n\t\t\tLet's sweep it, boys.\n\nThey deploy and start scanning the studio with their monitoring devices.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Janosz)\n\t\t\tYou know, I never got to ask you.  Where you\n\t\t\tfrom, Johnny?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (nervous)\n\t\t\tThe Upper West Side.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (consulting his PKE meter)\n\t\t\tThis entire room is extremely hot, Peter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tWhat exactly are you looking for, Dr. Venkman?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWe'll know when we find it.  You just sit\n\t\t\ttight.  This won't take long.\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nUsing the Giga-meter, he traces a strong psychomagnetheric reading to\nthe painting of Vigo in the alcove at the end of the studio.  Venkman\ncomes up behind him with Janosz right on his heels.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThis is the one that looked at Dana.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt must be the chemical fumes in the studio.\n\t\t\tPeople start imagining things --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (interrupts)\n\t\t\tI'm going to rule out the glue-sniffing\n\t\t\ttheory.  If she says it looked at her, it\n\t\t\tlooked at her.\n\t\t\t\t (to Vigo)\n\t\t\tHey, you!  Vigie!  Look at me.  I'm talking\n\t\t\tto you.  Hey!  Look at me when I'm talking\n\t\t\tto you.\n\nThey watch the painting for any sign of movement.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nHis eyes stare lifelessly into the distance.\n\n<b>STANTZ AND VENKMAN\n</b>\nVenkman starts shooting Polaroids of Vigo.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Vigo)\n\t\t\tBeautiful, beautiful.  Work with me, baby.\n\t\t\tJust have fun with it.\n\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tOkay, he's playing it cool.  Let's finish\n\t\t\tup and get out of here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI'll get one more reading.\n\nVenkman walks off leaving Stantz alone with the painting.  Stantz scans\nthe painting with the Giga-meter until his eyes meet Vigo's.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nHis eyes seems to burn right through to the depths of Stantz's soul.\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe stands there transfixed, unable to look away, as a strange and subtle\ntransformation occurs within him.  Winston comes up behind him and breaks\nthe spell.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (looking at the painting)\n\t\t\tNow that's one ugly dude.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (coming back to his senses)\n\t\t\tHuh?  What?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tYou finished here?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (distracted)\n\t\t\tWhat?  Yeah.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tAre you all right?  You coming down with\n\t\t\tsomething?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I'm fine.  I just got light-headed for\n\t\t\ta second there.  Let's go.\n\nThey head for the door.\n\n<b>JANOSZ\n</b>\nHe escorts the Ghostbusters to the door.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tSo you see, everything is in order, is it\n\t\t\tnot?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNot.  Don't leave town and report any change\n\t\t\tin your address to the proper authorities.\n\t\t\tWe'll be back.\n\nThey exit.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters cross to ECTO-2.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tThere's definitely something going on in\n\t\t\tthat studio.  The PKE levels were max-plus\n\t\t\tand the Giga-meter was showing all red.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tI'd put my money on that Vigo character.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, that's a safe bet.\n\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tYou and Spengman see what else you can dig\n\t\t\tup on Vigo and this little weasel Poha.\n\t\t\tThose two were made for each other.\n\n<b>INT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters are driving back to the firehouse.  Stantz is at the\nwheel.  His eyes are vacant, he seems distracted and very tense.  Stantz\nswerves suddenly and HONKS the horn angrily.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to another driver)\n\t\t\tIdiot!\n\t\t\t\t (honking)\n\t\t\tMove it, you jerk!\n\nVenkman and Winston exchange surprised looks.\n\n<b>EXT.  STREET - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nStantz drives extremely fast, HONKING vindictively, weaving dangerously\nthrough traffic.\n\n<b>INT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nWinston looks at Ray, concerned.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tGoing a little fast, aren't we, Ray?\n\nStantz turns on him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (viciously)\n\t\t\tAre you telling me how to drive?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I just thought --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWell don't think!\n\nHe HONKS again and tromps hard on the accelerator.\n\n<b>EXT.  STREET - DAY (CONTINUOUS)\n</b>\nEcto-2 is now barreling down the avenue.  Pedestrians leap to safety as\nStantz runs a red light.\n\n<b>INT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThey hang on to the safety straps as Stantz continues his maniacal ride.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Stantz, really worried\n\t\t\t\t now)\n\t\t\tAre you crazy, man?  You're going to kill\n\t\t\tsomebody!\n\nStantz looks at him and smile demonically.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I'm going to kill everybody!\n\nHe swerves off the road.\n\n<b>EXT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe car heads right for a big tree.\n\n<b>INT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nAt the last possible moment, Winston cold-cocks Stantz, grabs the wheel\nand steps across to stomp on the brakes.\n\n<b>EXT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe car skids into the tree and stops.  The Ghostbusters stumble out\ndazed and shaken, but unhurt.  Stantz rubs his eyes and looks at the\nothers, completely at a loss.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (himself again)\n\t\t\tWhat happened?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou just picked up three penalty points on\n\t\t\tyour driver's license.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tAre you all right?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, I guess so.  It was the strangest\n\t\t\tthing.  I knew what I was doing but I\n\t\t\tcouldn't stop.  This really terrible feeling\n\t\t\tcame over me and -- I don't know -- I just\n\t\t\tfelt like driving into that tree and ending\n\t\t\tit all.  Whew!  Sorry, boys.\n\nThey inspect the damage to the car.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (confidentially, to\n\t\t\t\t Spengler)\n\t\t\tWatch him, Egon.  Don't even let him shave.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThere's a KNOCK at the front door, a key turns in the lock, and Venkman\nenters somewhat tentatively holding a bouquet of flowers and a small\nsuitcase of Dana's.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (calls out)\n\t\t\tI'm home!\n\nHe looks around the large open loft.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to himself)\n\t\t\tI knew it.  She cleaned.\n\nHe hears the SHOWER RUNNING and crosses to the bathroom.  The door is\nhalf-open and he can see Dana in the shower (tastefully blurred) through\nthe transparent vinyl curtain.  He closes the bathroom door and looks at\nthe baby asleep on the bed, surrounded by pillows to prevent him rolling\noff.  Then he turns and bumps into Dana who's just coming out of the\nbathroom wrapped in a towel.  She jumps back into the bathroom.\n\nShe comes out again, this time wearing a robe.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAre you all squeaky clean now?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (humoring him)\n\t\t\tYes, I'm very clean.  Did they find anything\n\t\t\tat my apartment?\n\nShe squeezes past him into the bedroom and closes the door.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (through the door)\n\t\t\tNothing.  They stayed there all night, went\n\t\t\tthrough your personal stuff, made a bunch of\n\t\t\tlong-distance phone calls and cleaned out\n\t\t\tyour refrigerator.  And didn't find anything.\n\nDana opens the bedroom door.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThey didn't find anything?  In the bathtub\n\t\t\t... the pink ooze ... nothing?  So, what do\n\t\t\tI do now?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNow you get dressed and we go out.  I got a\n\t\t\tbabysitter and everything.  Trust me, you\n\t\t\tneed it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI'm not here to date.  I can't leave Oscar\n\t\t\tin a strange place with someone I don't know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tIt's Janine Melnitz, from my staff.  She's\n\t\t\tone of my most valuable employees.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tDoes she know anything about babies?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tJanine Melnitz, are you kidding?\n\t\t\t\t (handing her the flowers)\n\t\t\tDo I have a vase?  I brought some of your\n\t\t\tclothes.  Wear something intriguing.  I\n\t\t\tbrought along some interesting possibilities.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, but it's not a date.  It's a dinner.\n\nShe smiles and closes the door again.  He opens the closet and starts\nlooking for his good suit.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDid you happen to see some shirts on the\n\t\t\tfloor in here?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\tI put them in your hamper.  I thought they\n\t\t\twere dirty.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shaking his head)\n\t\t\tI have a hamper?  Next time ask me first,\n\t\t\tokay.  I have more than two grades of\n\t\t\tlaundry.  There're lots of subtle levels\n\t\t\tbetween clean and dirty.\n\nHe pulls some clothes out of the hamper and inspects them.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThese aren't so bad yet.  You just hang them\n\t\t\tup for a while and they're fine.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b><b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - RECEPTION AREA - EARLY EVENING\n</b>\nJanine covers her computer terminal and starts turning out the lights.\nThen she notices that the lights are still on upstairs.  She starts\nprimping and freshening up her makeup.\n\n<b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - LAB AREA - SAME TIME\n</b>\nLouis is strapping on a proton pack, preparing to deal with Slimer once\nand for all.  He's wearing a bicyclist's rearview mirror on a headband.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to himself)\n\t\t\tOkay, Stinky, this is it.  Showdown time.\n\t\t\tYou and me, pal.  You think you're smarter\n\t\t\tthan I am?  We'll see about that.\n\t\t\t\t (loud)\n\t\t\tOh, hello, Pizza Man!  Oh, two larges!  I\n\t\t\tonly ordered one.  Oh, pepperoni and\n\t\t\tpineapple.  My absolute favorite.  I guess\n\t\t\tI'll have to eat these both by myself.\n\n<b>THE CEILING\n</b>\nSlimer pokes his head through the ceiling and scans the room hanging\nupside down.\n\n<b>LOUIS\n</b>\nHe spots Slimer through the rearview mirror.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (quietly)\n\t\t\tOkay, let's boogie!\n\nHe whirls around and fires a proton stream at Slimer, slicing a burning a\ngash across the ceiling.\n\n<b>THE STAIRS\n</b>\nJanine comes up and ducks as a bolt of energy streaks across the room and\nstrikes the wall behind her.  Slimer disappears.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (embarrassed and apologetic)\n\t\t\tOh migod!  I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to do\n\t\t\tthat.  It was an accident.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tWhat are you doing up here?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI was trying to get that smelly green thing.\n\t\t\tThe guys asked me to help out.  I'm like the\n\t\t\tfifth Ghostbuster.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tWhy would you want to be a Ghostbuster if\n\t\t\tyou're already an accountant?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh, no, it's just if one of the guys calls\n\t\t\tin sick or gets hurt.\n\nLouis quickly slips off the proton pack and sets it down.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tHave you made any plans yet?  You know\n\t\t\ttomorrow is New Year's Eve.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I celebrate at the beginning of my\n\t\t\tcorporate tax year which is March first.\n\t\t\tThat way I beat the crowds.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tThat's very practical.  I hate going out on\n\t\t\tNew Year's Eve, too.\n\nThere is an awkward silence between them and Janine starts to leave.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tWell, good night, Louis.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on an impulse)\n\t\t\tJanine, do you feel like maybe getting\n\t\t\tsomething to eat on the way home?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tI'd like to, but I told Dr. Venkman I'd\n\t\t\tbabysit.\n\t\t\t\t (seductively)\n\t\t\tDo you want to babysit with me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh, sure, that sounds great.\n\nThey exit.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nThere is a KNOCK at the door and Venkman goes to answer it.  He's dressed\nfor the evening and looking very dapper.\n\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - ENTRANCE HALL - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n</b>\nVenkman opens the door and finds Stantz, Spengler and Winston standing\nthere wearing over-the-hip rubberized waders, firemen's slickers, and\nminers' helmets, carrying tons of sensing devices, meters, collection\njars and photographic equipment.  They look like they're rigged out for a\nmajor spelunking expedition.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (ushering them in)\n\t\t\tDon't tell me, let me guess.  All-you-can-eat\n\t\t\tbarbecue rib night at the Sizzler?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWe're going down into the sewer system to\n\t\t\tsee if we can trace the source of the\n\t\t\tpsycho-reactive slime flow.  We thought you\n\t\t\tmight want to come along.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDarn it!  I wish I'd known you were going.\n\t\t\tI'm stuck with these damn dinner reservations.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tYou know, animals and lower life forms often\n\t\t\tanticipate major disasters.  Given the new\n\t\t\tmagnetheric readings we could see a tremendous\n\t\t\tbreeding surge in the cockroach population.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tRoach breeding?  Sounds better and better.\n\t\t\t\t (calls out)\n\t\t\tDana?  The boys are going down under the\n\t\t\tsewers tonight to look for slime.  Egon\n\t\t\tthinks there might even be some kind of big\n\t\t\troach-breeding surge.  Should we forget about\n\t\t\tdinner and go with them instead?\n\nDana steps into the living room looking very beautiful.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWow.\n\nDana looks curiously at their outfits.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHi.\n\nThey nod and wave back.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Ray and Egon)\n\t\t\tI think we're going to have to pass on the\n\t\t\tsewer trip, boys.  Let me know what you find\n\t\t\tout.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on his exit)\n\t\t\tOkay, but you're missing all the fun.\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nStantz, Spengler and Winston come down the stairs into the station,\nguided by a very old map of the underground city.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThis is it.  Van Horne Station.  Right where\n\t\t\tthe old transit map said it would be.\n\nThey cross to the edge of the platform and look into the river of slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tLet's get a sounding on the depth of that\n\t\t\tflow.\n\nStantz has a long, coiled, graduated cord with a plumb bob on the end of\nit attached to his utility belt.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tStand back.\n\nHe takes the cord in his hand, swings the plumb bob over his head and\ncasts it out into the middle of the flow.  The plumb bob sinks and\nSpengler reads the depth.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tSix feet -- seven -- eight --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThat's it.  It's on the bottom.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tNine feet -- ten --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tIs the line sinking?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tNo, the slime is rising.\n\nStantz looks down and notices the slime rising over the edge of the\nplatform and around his boots.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (alarmed)\n\t\t\tLet's get out of here, boys.\n\nHe starts to pull out the plumb line but it seems to be stuck.\n\nSpengler tries to help, but whatever is pulling on the cord is stronger\nthan all three of them.  As their unseen adversary pulls them closer and\ncloser to the edge, Stantz works desperately to unhook the cord from his\nbelt but finally just unhooks the whole belt.  Spengler lets go in time\nbut Winston doesn't.  He is jerked off his feet and into the slime flow.\nStantz and Spengler look at each other, summon their courage and jump in\nafter him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  ARMAND RESTAURANT - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nDana and Venkman are sitting at a table in an elegant restaurant nibbling\ncaviar and toasting with very expensive champagne.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (very intimate)\n\t\t\tHere's to -- us.\n\nShe sighs and drinks.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo -- are you making any New Year's\n\t\t\tresolutions?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI want to stop getting involved with men who\n\t\t\taren't good for me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDoes that start exactly at midnight tomorrow,\n\t\t\tor could you hold off for a few days maybe?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tFor one night in your life, do you think\n\t\t\tit's possible for us to be completely real?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAll right, you want to be real?  So tell me\n\t\t\twhy did you dump me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tOh, Peter, I didn't dump you.  I just had\n\t\t\tto protect myself.  You really weren't very\n\t\t\tgood for me, you know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm not even good for me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tWhy do you say things like that?  You're so\n\t\t\tmuch better than you know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThank you.  If I had that kind of support\n\t\t\ton a daily basis, I could definitely shape\n\t\t\tup by the turn of the century.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (already feeling the\n\t\t\t\t effects of the champagne)\n\t\t\tSo why don't you give me a jingle in the\n\t\t\tyear 2000?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tLet me jingle you right now.\n\nHe leans over to kiss her.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tMaybe I should call Janine.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDon't worry.  Janine has a very special way\n\t\t\twith children.\n\nThey kiss.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  APARTMENT - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nJanine is on the sofa doing her nails while Louis paces with the baby.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (looking around)\n\t\t\tI can't believe a person could actually live\n\t\t\tlike this.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the baby)\n\t\t\tSo these dwarfs had a limited partnership in\n\t\t\ta small mining operation and then one day a\n\t\t\tbeautiful princess came to live with them.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tIt's really not a bad place.  It just needs\n\t\t\ta woman's touch.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (continuing)\n\t\t\tSo they bartered room and board in exchange\n\t\t\tfor housekeeping services, which was a good\n\t\t\tdeal for all of them because then they didn't\n\t\t\thave to withhold tax and social security,\n\t\t\twhich I'm not saying is right but it's just\n\t\t\ta story, so I guess it's all right.  I can\n\t\t\tfinish this later if you're tired.\n\nLouis goes into the bedroom and puts the baby down.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tYou're really good with children, Louis.  I\n\t\t\tcan tell.\n\t\t\t\t (as he returns)\n\t\t\tWhy don't you come here and sit with me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOkay.\n\nHe sits stiffly beside her on the sofa.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (getting close)\n\t\t\tMotherhood is a very natural instinct for\n\t\t\tme.  I'd like to have a baby myself.\n\t\t\tWouldn't you?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (gulps)\n\t\t\tTonight?\n\n<b>EXT.  STREET - MANHOLE COVER - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nA manhole cover is dislodged and pushed up from below.  It slides away,\nand Winston crawls out of the manhole followed by Stantz and Spengler.\nThey are exhausted and covered with slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (uncharacteristically\n\t\t\t\t angry)\n\t\t\tNice going, Ray!  What were you trying to\n\t\t\tdo -- drown me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (unusually mean)\n\t\t\tLook, Zeddemore, it wasn't my fault you were\n\t\t\ttoo stupid to drop that line.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shoves him)\n\t\t\tYou better watch your mouth, man, or I'll\n\t\t\tpunch your lights out.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOh yeah?  Anytime, anytime.  Just go ahead\n\t\t\tand try it.\n\nSpengler steps between them with unprecedented aggression.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tIf you two are looking for a fight, you got\n\t\t\tone.\n\t\t\t\t (putting up his fists)\n\t\t\tWho wants it first?  Come on, Ray.  Try me,\n\t\t\tsucker.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (squaring off)\n\t\t\tButt out, you pencil-necked geek.  I've had\n\t\t\tit with you.\n\nThey grab each other and start to tussle.  Suddenly Spengler comes to his\nsenses and pulls them apart.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (forcefully)\n\t\t\tStrip!  Right now!  Get out of those clothes!\n\nHe starts yanking off his slicker and waders.  Bewildered, Stantz and\nWinston start doing the same.  Spengler helps pull off their clothes and\nthrows them into the open manhole.  Now wearing only long underwear, they\nseem to return to normal.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tWhat are we doing?  Ray, I was ready to kill\n\t\t\tyou.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tDon't you see?  It's the slime.  That stuff\n\t\t\tis like pure, concentrated evil.\n\nStantz looks around and sees that they are standing right in front of the\nmuseum.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tAnd it's all flowing right to this spot.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  ARMAND RESTAURANT ENTRANCE - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe MAITRE D' looks up in surprise as Stantz, Spengler and Winston enter\nthe restaurant wearing only long underwear.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAITRE D'\n</b>\t\t\t\t (intercepting them)\n\t\t\tCan I help you?\n\nStantz looks around and spots Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThat's all right, I see him.\n\nThey blow right by the Maitre d' who jumps back in horror as they pass.\n\n<b>VENKMAN\n</b>\nHe's just about to pour more champagne when he sees Ray, Egon and Winston\ncoming toward him through the restaurant.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (very excited)\n\t\t\tYou should've been there, Venkman.\n\t\t\tAbsolutely incredible!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, sorry I missed it.\n\t\t\t\t (noting their attire)\n\t\t\tI guess you guys didn't know about the dress\n\t\t\tcode here.  It's really kind of a coat and\n\t\t\ttie place.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt's all over the city, Pete -- well, under\n\t\t\tit actually.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tRivers of the stuff!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tAnd it's all flowing toward the museum.\n\nHe gestures excitedly and a big gob of slime flies across the room and\nlands on a well-dressed diner.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (calls out)\n\t\t\tSorry!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tMaybe we should discuss this somewhere else.\n\nVenkman notes the look of alarm on Dana's face and pulls his colleagues\naside.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (confidentially)\n\t\t\tBoys, listen.  You're scaring the straights.\n\t\t\tLet's save this until tomorrow, okay?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Venkman)\n\t\t\tThis won't wait until tomorrow, Venkman.\n\t\t\tIt's hot and it's ready to pop.\n\n<b>MAITRE D'\n</b>\nHe hurries through the restaurant with two city COPS right behind him and\nmakes straight for Venkman's table.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAITRE D'\n</b>\t\t\tArrest these men.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (recognizing them)\n\t\t\tHey!  It's the Ghostbusters.  You're out of\n\t\t\tuniform, gentlemen\n\nStantz suddenly realizes how ridiculous they look.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (self-conscious)\n\t\t\tUh -- well -- we had a little accident, but\n\t\t\tforget that.  We have to see the mayor as\n\t\t\tsoon as possible.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\tLook, Doc, why don't you just go home.\n\t\t\tYou'll get a good night's sleep and then you\n\t\t\tcan give the mayor a call in the morning.\n\t\t\tCome on.\n\nHe takes Stantz by the arm but Stantz resists.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWe're not going anywhere with you.  I told\n\t\t\tyou we have to see the mayor now.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (grabbing Stantz)\n\t\t\tI'm warning you.  You can come along\n\t\t\tpeaceably or --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (grabs the Cop)\n\t\t\tHey, don't be an idiot.  This is serious.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (angry)\n\t\t\tLook, pal, keep this up and you're going\n\t\t\twith them.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOh, yeah?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (has had enough)\n\t\t\tYeah, let's go.  You're all under arrest.\n\nThe Cop catches Venkman in an armlock and starts walking him out of the\nrestaurant.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tFinish your dessert -- it's already paid\n\t\t\tfor.  I'll call you.\n\nThey all exit, causing a major commotion among the other diners.\n\n<b>EXT.  ARMAND'S RESTAURANT - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe police car is parked right behind Ecto-2.  Spengler stops at the\npolice car and confronts the cops.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tLook, we're not drunk and we're not crazy.\n\t\t\tThis is a matter of vital importance.\n\nVenkman steps in and looks at the policemen's nametags.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\tWhat are you doing?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI just want to get your names right for when\n\t\t\tthe mayor asks us why we didn't let him know\n\t\t\tabout this sooner.\n\nThe Cops look at each other, uncertain about what to do.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (relenting)\n\t\t\tOkay, Doc.  You want to see the mayor, you\n\t\t\tgot it.  Follow us.\n\nThey head for their respective vehicles.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nLouis and Janine are on the sofa making out when Dana enters.  They jump\nup and start smoothing their clothes.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (embarrassed)\n\t\t\tOh, hello, Dana.  we were just -- we were --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI know what you were doing, Louis.  It's\n\t\t\tall right.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tHow was your date?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tTypical.  Peter was arrested.  Has he called?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tNo, nobody called.\n\nDana frowns.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tIs everything all right with Oscar?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tOh, he's fine.  He's such a good baby.  He\n\t\t\twas a little fussy at first, but we gave\n\t\t\thim a Freach bread pizza and he went right\n\t\t\tto sleep.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (relieved)\n\t\t\tOh, good.  I'll just check on him.\n\nShe crosses to the bedroom.\n\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S BEDROOM - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nDana looks at Oscar sleeping peacefully on the bed.  She starts to change\nclothes.\n\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nLouis and Janine aren't sure what to do.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tShould we go?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tI don't think we should leave her alone.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tYou're right.  We should stay.\n\nHe grabs Janine and they start making out again.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM RESTORATION STUDIO - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nJanosz stands before the painting of Vigo.  Vigo comes to life and\nrepeats the litany of his power.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tI, Vigo, the scourge of Carpathia --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (heard all this before)\n\t\t\tYes, the scourge --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\t-- the sorrow of Moldavia --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t-- the sorrow --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tI command you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (checking his watch)\n\t\t\tI await the word of Vigo.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tThe season of evil begins with the birth of\n\t\t\tthe new year.  Bring me the child that I\n\t\t\tmight live again.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (abjectly humble)\n\t\t\tLord Vigo, the mother, Dana, is fine and\n\t\t\tstrong.  I was wondering -- well, would it\n\t\t\tbe possible -- if I bring the baby, could I\n\t\t\thave the woman?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tSo be it.  On this the day of darkness, she\n\t\t\twill be ours, wife to you and mother to me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  CARL SCHURZ PARK - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nPreceded by a police car, Ecto-2 enters the small park on the East River\nat 88th Street and disappears into an underground entrance.  The CAMERA\nPANS UP to reveal Gracie Mansion, the residence of the Mayor of New York\nCity.\n\n<b>INT.  GRACIE MANSION - MOMENTS LATER\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters, now wearing police raincoats over their longjohns are\nushered through the house by a butler to a set of double oak doors.  The\nbutler knocks lightly, then opens the door to reveal the MAYOR sitting in\nfront of the fireplace in his well-appointed private study, flanked by\nJack Hardemeyer, both in tuxedoes.  The Ghostbusters enter.\n\n<b>INT.  STUDY - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n</b>\nThe Mayor is impatient and a little angry at having been pulled out of\nhis formal reception.  He frowns at their bizarre attire.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\tAll right -- the Ghostbusters.  I'll tell\n\t\t\tyou right now; I've got two hundred of the\n\t\t\theaviest campaign contributors in the city\n\t\t\tout there eating bad roast chicken waiting\n\t\t\tfor me to give the speech of my life.\n\t\t\tYou've got two minutes.  Make it good.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou get enough negative energy flowing in a\n\t\t\tdense environment like Manhattan, it starts\n\t\t\tto build up, and if we don't do something\n\t\t\tfast this whole place will blow like a frog\n\t\t\ton a hotplate.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tTell him about the toaster.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI don't think he's ready for the toaster.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shaking his head)\n\t\t\tBeing miserable and treating other people\n\t\t\tlike dirt is every New Yorker's God-given\n\t\t\tright.  What am I supposed to do -- go on\n\t\t\ttelevision and tell eight million people\n\t\t\tthey have to be nice to each other?  I'm\n\t\t\tsorry, none of this makes any sense to me,\n\t\t\tand if anything does happen we've got plenty\n\t\t\tof paid professionals to deal with it.  Your\n\t\t\ttwo minutes are up.  Good night, gentlemen.\n\nThe mayor exits, leaving the Ghostbusters to Hardemeyer.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (smirking)\n\t\t\tThat's quite a story.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, I think the Times might be interested,\n\t\t\tdon't you?  The Post might have a lot of fun\n\t\t\twith it, too.\n\nHardemeyer's eyes go cold and calculating.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tBefore you go running to the newspapers with\n\t\t\tthis, would you consider telling this slime\n\t\t\tthing to some people downtown?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNow you're talking.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  PARKVIEW HOSPITAL - PSYCHIATRIC WARD - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nAn attendant opens a locked door with a wire mesh window and the\nGhostbusters, in straitjackets, are led into the psych ward as Hardemeyer\nconfers with the chief PSYCHIATRIST.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (protesting)\n\t\t\tI'm telling you, we're not crazy.  He is!\n\n<b>HARDEMEYER\n</b>\nHe laughs off the remark.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Psychiatrist)\n\t\t\tThe mayor wants them kept under strict\n\t\t\tobservation for a few days.  We think\n\t\t\tthey're seriously disturbed and potentially\n\t\t\tdangerous.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPSYCHIATRIST\n</b>\t\t\tWe'll do whatever's necessary.\n\nHardemeyer shakes his hand and exits as the door slams shut on the\nGhostbusters.\n\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nLouis and Janine are watching an old rerun on TV, eating popcorn, while\nDana is stretched out on the other sofa.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (wishing they'd leave)\n\t\t\tYou know you really don't have to stay.\n\t\t\tPeter should be back soon.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh no, we don't mind.\n\nShe hears a little CRY from the nursery and sits up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tExcuse me.  I think Oscar is up.\n\nShe crosses to the bedroom.\n\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S BEDROOM - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nDana enters and immediately notices that the crib is empty and the window\nis open.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (screams)\n\t\t\tLouis!\n\nFrantic now, Dana rushes to the window and looks out, as Louis and Janine\ncome running in.\n\n<b>EXT.  WINDOW LEDGE - DANA'S POV - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nThe baby is standing out on the ledge at the corner of the building,\nfifty feet above the street, staring off into the distance as if he's\nwaiting for something.\n\n<b>EXT.  WINDOW LEDGE - NIGHT (ECLIPSE) (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nDana climbs out onto the ledge and starts inching slowly toward the baby.\nThen she stops as a miraculous apparition materializes.\n\n<b>LOUIS AND JANINE\n</b>\nThey lean out the window, gaping at the apparition.\n\n<b>EXT.  VENKMAN'S LEDGE - APPARITION\n</b>\nA sweet, kindly-looking English nanny appears, pushing a pram, strolling\non thin air parallel to the ledge high above the ground.  Her face looks\nremarkably like Janosz Poha's.  The nanny extends her hand to the BABY\nwho GURGLES sweetly as he reaches out to take it.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe watches in helpless horror.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (screams)\n\t\t\tNo!!\n\n<b>GHOST NANNY\n</b>\nShe picks up the baby and lays it gently in the pram, then turns and\nsmiles at Dana.  The smile turns to a hideous grin, then the nanny\nshrieks at Dana and takes off like a shot with the baby.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe watches the creature fly off with Oscar, then climbs back through\nthe window assisted by Louis and Janine.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (resolutely)\n\t\t\tLouis, you have to find Peter and tell him\n\t\t\twhat happened.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (confused and worried)\n\t\t\tWhere're you going?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tTo get my baby back.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM - NIGHT (A LITTLE LATER)\n</b>\nA taxi pulls up, Dana jumps out and rushes into the museum.  The moment\nthe door closes behind her, there is a loud THUNDERCLAP, the ground\ntrembles and a massive amount of slime erupts from around the base of\nthe museum and starts covering the walls, sealing her inside the\nbuilding.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  PARKVIEW PSYCHIATRIC - PADDED ROOM - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nVenkman, Stantz, Spengler and Winston are in a padded cell.  They are\nhandcuffed and the cuffs are chained to thick leather belts around their\nwaists.  Venkman stands there banging his head into the padded wall\nwhile the others try to explain the situation to a skeptical\nPsychiatrist.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWe think the spirit of Vigo the Carpathian\n\t\t\tis alive in a painting at the Manhattan\n\t\t\tMuseum.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPSYCHIATRIST\n</b>\t\t\tI see. And are there any other paintings in\n\t\t\tthe museum with bad spirits in them?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (impatient)\n\t\t\tYou're wasting valuable time!  We have reason\n\t\t\tto believe that Vigo is drawing strength from\n\t\t\ta psychomagnetheric slime flow that's been\n\t\t\tcollecting under the city.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPSYCHIATRIST\n</b>\t\t\tYes, tell me about the slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tIt's potent stuff.  We made a toaster dance\n\t\t\twith it, then a bathtub tried to eat his\n\t\t\tfriend's baby.\n\nThe psychiatrist looks at Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDon't look at me.  I think they're nuts.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM RESTORATION STUDIO - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nMoonlight streams through the skylight above, bathing the studio in\neerie white light.  Oscar is lying safely on a table in front of the\npainting of Vigo.  Dana enters cautiously and sees the baby.  Seeing no\none else about, she quickly sneaks down to the table and picks up the\nbaby, hugging hin tight, greatly relieved to find him unharmed and\nintact.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\tI knew you would come.\n\nStartled, Dana turns at the sound of his voice as Janosz steps out from\nbehind the Vigo painting.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (defiantly)\n\t\t\tWhat do you want with my baby?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo harm will come to the child.  You might\n\t\t\teven say it's a privilege.  He will be the\n\t\t\tvessel for the spirit of Vigo.  And you --\n\t\t\twell, you will be the mother of the ruler\n\t\t\tof the world.  Doesn't that sound nice?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tIf this is what the world will be like, I\n\t\t\tdon't want to live in it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (confidentially, indicating\n\t\t\t\t Vigo)\n\t\t\tI don't believe we have the luxury of choice.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tEverybody has a choice.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tNot in this case, my dear.  Take a look.\n\t\t\tThat's not Gainsborough's Blue Boy up there.\n\t\t\tHe's Vigo!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI don't care who he is.  He's not taking my\n\t\t\tbaby.\n\nDana walks quickly to the door but suddenly Oscar flies out of her arms,\nfloats across the room and lands lightly back in the cradle.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe turns and looks at Vigo, for the first time feeling his power.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou will see.  It's all for the best.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  PARKVIEW HOSPITAL - DAY (NEXT MORNING)\n</b>\nIt's the last day of the year and the sun is shining brightly.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  PARKVIEW PSYCHIATRIC WARD - DAY (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters are sitting in the dayroom, a dingy lounge for patients\nin the locked ward.  There is a television set, a Ping-Pong table and a\nfew tables and chairs.  Stantz is looking at the sky through the heavy\nwire mesh covering the windows.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThis is it. boys.  It's starting.  Shit-storm\n<b>\t\t\t2000.\n</b>\nVenkman is doing occupational therapy, weaving on a little hand-loom.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tIt better not start yet.  I'm trying to\n\t\t\tfinish my potholder before lunch.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tYou think all those predictions about the\n\t\t\tworld coming to an end in the 1990s are true?\n\nA PATIENT at the next table joins the discussion.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPATIENT\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with certainty)\n\t\t\t1997.  My dog told me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat kind of dog?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPATIENT\n</b>\t\t\tLabrador.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shakes his head)\n\t\t\tHabitual liars.  They can't help it.  It's\n\t\t\tin the breed.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  PARKVIEW HOSPITAL - EXAMINING ROOM - DAY (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nLouis is pleading with his cousin, SHERMAN TULLY, a doctor on the staff\nat Parkview.  He looks and sounds just like Louis.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tCome on, Sherm.  You're my cousin.  Do this\n\t\t\tfor me.  I'm begging you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI can't do it, Louis.  It isn't ethical.  I\n\t\t\tcould lose my license.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tWhy can't you just have them released?\n\t\t\tYou're a doctor.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm a dermatologist.  I can't write orders\n\t\t\ton the psych ward.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tSherman, I've done lots of favors for you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tLike what?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI got you out of those bad tax shelters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou were the one who got me in.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI fixed you up with Diane Troxler and she\n\t\t\tput out, didn't she?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, I had to give her free dermabrasion\n\t\t\tfor a year.  Forget it, Louis.  I could get\n\t\t\tin a lot of trouble.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI'm telling you, we're all going to be in\n\t\t\tbig trouble if we don't do something fast.\n\t\t\tThat ghost guy came and took my friend's\n\t\t\tbaby and we got to get it back.  It's just\n\t\t\ta scared little baby, Sherm.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThen you should go to the police.  I don't\n\t\t\tbelieve in any of that stuff.\n\nSherman looks out the window.\n\n<b>EXT.  SKY - SHERMAN'S POV\n</b>\nThe sky begins to go dark as the sun is magically eclipsed.\n\n<b>INT.  EXAMINING ROOM - CONTINUOUS ACTION - DAY\n</b>\nThe room goes dark.  Louis switches on a lamp which casts an eerie light\non his face.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (spooky)\n\t\t\tDo you believe it now, Sherm?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  HUDSON RIVER PIER - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nA drainpipe starts dripping slime into the river near the Cunard Line\ndocks.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  PUBLIC FOUNTAIN (59TH AND FIFTH) - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nWith the Plaza Hotel in the background, the fountain starts to spout\npsycho-reactive slime.\n\n<b>HOTEL ENTRANCE\n</b>\nA well-heeled MAN and WOMAN step out of a limousine and walk up the steps\ntoward the revolving door.  She looks up at the sky and frowns.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWOMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shrewish)\n\t\t\tI told you we should have stayed in Palm\n\t\t\tBeach.  The weather here gets stranger every\n\t\t\tyear.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYes, dear.\n\nShe doesn't notice it, but a small amount of slime falls on the back of\nher luxurious, full-length, white mink coat.  The doorman nods\ncourteously and extends a hand to help her up the stairs.\n\n<b>WOMAN\n</b>\nShe yelps in pain.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWOMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the doorman)\n\t\t\tSomething just bit me!\n\nThe doorman looks curiously at her, then recoils in shock as her coat\ncomes alive.  MINK HEADS pop out of the thick fur, SNARLING, BARKING and\nYAPPING, their sharp, little teeth biting the air.  Reacting quickly, the\ndoorman yanks the coat off the woman's back, throws it to the ground and\nstarts stomping on it as the Woman and her husband look on in horror.\nThe coat scuttles down the steps and runs off down the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MIDTOWN CENTRAL POLICE PRECINCT - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nThe squad room is busy as DETECTIVES try to answer the flood of calls\nregarding the wave of supernatural events sweeping the city.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDETECTIVE ONE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on the phone)\n\t\t\tLook, lady, of course there are dead people\n\t\t\tthere.  It's a cemetery ...\n\t\t\t\t (his face falls)\n\t\t\tThey were asking you for directions?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDETECTIVE TWO\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on another phone)\n\t\t\tWas this a big dinosaur or a little dinosaur?\n\t\t\t... Oh, just the skeleton, huh?  Well, where\n\t\t\tis it now?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDETECTIVE THREE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on the phone)\n\t\t\tWait a second -- the park bench was chasing\n\t\t\tyou?  You mean, someone was chasing you in\n\t\t\tthe park ... No, the bench itself was chasing\n\t\t\tyou.  I see --\n\nA weary SERGEANT answers a RINGING PHONE.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSERGEANT\n</b>\t\t\tManhattan Central, Flaherty speaking ...\n\t\t\tYeah ... yeah? ... What?  Who is this? ...\n\t\t\tWait a second.\n\nHe puts the caller on \"Hold\" and turns the LIEUTENANT.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSERGEANT\n</b>\t\t\tLieutenant, I think you better talk to this\n\t\t\tguy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLIEUTENANT\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on another call)\n\t\t\tWhat is it?  I'm talkin' here!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSERGEANT\n</b>\t\t\tIt's some dock supervisor down at Pier 34\n\t\t\ton the Hudson.  The guy's going nuts.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLIEUTENANT\n</b>\t\t\tWhat's the problem?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSERGEANT\n</b>\t\t\t\t (takes a deep breath)\n\t\t\tHe says the Titanic just arrived.\n\n<b>INT.  PORT AUTHORITY OFFICE - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nThe dock supervisor stands there with the phone in his hand, an assistant\nbeside him, both staring out the window at the ocean liner tied up at the\npier.\n\n<b>EXT.  PIER 34 - THEIR POV - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nThe name \"R.M.S. Titanic\" is clearly visible on the side of the huge\nship.  The gangplank is down and dozens of drowned passengers, sopping\nwet and festooned with seaweed, are disembarking while drowned porters\noff-load their waterlogged baggage.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  PARKVIEW HOSPITAL - NIGHT (MOMENTS LATER)(ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nEcto-2 is parked outside as Louis and Sherman come out of the hospital\nwith the Ghostbusters, now wearing their standard uniforms.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tGood work, Louis.  How did you get us out?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh, I pulled a few strings.  I wouldn't want\n\t\t\tto say any more than that.\n\nLouis winks conspiratorially at Sherman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tThis is my cousin Sherman.  Sherm, say hello\n\t\t\tto the Ghostbusters.\n\t\t\t\t (sotto voce to Stantz)\n\t\t\tI promised him a ride in the car if he got\n\t\t\tyou out.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Ghostbusters)\n\t\t\tHi, it's really great to meet you guys.  I\n\t\t\tknow this sounds weird but once I had a\n\t\t\tdream that my grandfather was standing at\n\t\t\tthe foot of my bed, but I knew it was\n\t\t\timpossible because he died and he started\n\t\t\tto tell me that --\n\nWhile he's talking, the Ghostbusters jump in the Ectomobile and drive\noff, leaving him and Louis standing at the curb.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tHey!  Wait!  Okay, I'll meet you there.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI thought you were like the fifth Ghostbuster.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI let them handle all the little stuff.  I\n\t\t\tjust come in on the big ones.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>-----------------------------------------------------------------------\n</b>(original version of the above scene - 11/27/88)\n(TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES: These two versions of this scene were put in my\ncopy of the script, so I have included both of them here)\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tActually, they still think you're crazy, but\n\t\t\tI convinced them you're not dangerous.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (determined)\n\t\t\tYeah, well guess again.\n\n<b>EXT.  BELLEVUE HOSPITAL - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)(MOMENTS LATER)\n</b>\nEcto-2 is parked outside and the Ghostbusters are hastily donning their\nstandard uniforms.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI brought everything you asked for and I\n\t\t\tgassed up the car with Super Unleaded.  It\n\t\t\tcost twenty cents more than Regular Unleaded\n\t\t\tbut you get much better performance and in\n\t\t\tan old car like this that'll end up saving\n\t\t\tyou money in the long run.  I put it on my\n\t\t\tcredit card, so you can either reimburse me\n\t\t\tor I can take it out of petty cash --\n\nWhile he's talking, the Ghostbusters jump in the Ecto-2 and drive\noff without him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tHey!  Wait!  Okay, I'll meet you there.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>-----------------------------------------------------------------------\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)(LATER)\n</b>\nECTO-2 pulls to the curb across the street from the museum.  Hundreds of\nspectators are already there gawking at the building as the Ghostbusters\njump out and gape at the sight that greets them.\n\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM THEIR POV - BUILDING\n</b>\nThe building is now totally covered in a shell of psycho-reactive slime.\nCITY WORKMEN and FIREMEN are trying to cut their way in with blowtorches,\njackhammers, power tools and the \"jaws of life,\" but they can't even make\na dent.\n\n<b>GHOSTBUSTERS\n</b>\nThey size up the situation as they don their proton packs.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt looks like a giant Jello mold.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI hate Jello.\n\nThey stride manfully across the street and approach the main entrance to\nthe museum.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Fire Captain)\n\t\t\tOkay, give it a rest, Captain.  We'll take\n\t\t\tit from here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRE CAPTAIN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (skeptical)\n\t\t\tBe my guest.  We been cutting here for three\n\t\t\thours.  What the hell's going on?  You know\n\t\t\tthe Titanic arrived this morning?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWell, better late than never.\n\nThe workmen and firemen put down their tools and fall back as the\nGhostbusters draw their particle throwers.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (monitoring valences)\n\t\t\tFull neutronas, maser assist.\n\nThey adjust their settings and prepare to fire.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThrow 'em!\n\nThey trigger their throwers and spray the front doors of the building\nwith bolts of proton energy, but it has no effect on the hardened slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the firemen)\n\t\t\tOkay, who knows \"Cumbaya?\"\n\nA few of the firemen and workmen tentatively raise their hands.  Venkman\ngrabs them and lines them up at the entrance of the museum.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAll right.  Nice and sweet --\n\t\t\t\t (starts singing)\n\t\t\tCumbaya, milord, cumbaya --\n\nStantz, Spengler, Winston and the firemen sing along, reluctantly holding\nhands and swaying to the music.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tALL\n</b>\t\t\t\t (singing)\n\t\t\tCumbaya, milord, cumbaya, Cumbaya, milord,\n\t\t\tcumbaya, Oh, Lord, cumbaya.\n\nStantz inspects the wall of slime with his infra-goggles and finds that\nthey have only managed to open a hole the size of a dime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tForget it.  The Vienna Boys Choir couldn't\n\t\t\tget through this stuff.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tGood effort.  Now what?  Should we say\n\t\t\tsupportive, nurturing things to it, Ray?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tIt won't work.  There's no way we could\n\t\t\tgenerate enough positive energy to crack\n\t\t\tthat shell.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI can't believe things have gotten so bad\n\t\t\tin this city that there's no way back.\n\t\t\tSure, it's crowded, it's dirty, it's noisy.\n\t\t\tAnd there are too many people who'd just as\n\t\t\tsoon step on your face as look at you.  But\n\t\t\tthere've got to be a few sparks of sweet\n\t\t\thumanity left in this burned-out burg.  We\n\t\t\tjust have to mobilize it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWe need something that everyone can get\n\t\t\tbehind, a symbol --\n\nHis eyes fall on ECTO-2's New York State license plate which features a\nline drawing of the Statue of Liberty.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (he sees it, too)\n\t\t\tSomething that appeals to the best in each\n\t\t\tand every one of us --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tSomething good --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAnd pure --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tAnd decent.\n\n<b>EXT.  THE STREET - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nThere is a commotion among the crowd as the Mayor's limousine arrives\nwith a police escort.  Jack Hardemeyer steps out followed by the Mayor\nhimself and they cross to the museum entrance.\n\nHardemeyer, his ASSISTANT and several police BODYGUARDS confront the\nGhostbusters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tLook, I've had it with you.  Get your stuff\n\t\t\ttogether, get back in that clown car and get\n\t\t\tout of here.  This is a city matter and\n\t\t\teverything's under control.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOh, you think so?  Well, I've got news for\n\t\t\tyou.  You've got Dracula's brother-in-law\n\t\t\tin there and he's got my girlfriend and her\n\t\t\tkid.  Around about midnight tonight, when\n\t\t\tyou're partying uptown, this guy's going to\n\t\t\tcome to life and start doing amateur head\n\t\t\ttransplants.  And that's just round one.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\tAre you telling me there're people trapped\n\t\t\tin there?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to his assistant)\n\t\t\tThis is dynamite.  Call A.P., U.P.I., and\n\t\t\tC.N.N. and get them down here right away.\n\t\t\tWhen the police bring this kid out I want\n\t\t\tthem to hand it right to the mayor and I\n\t\t\twant it all on camera.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tMr. Mayor, if we don't do something by\n\t\t\tmidnight, you're going to go down in history\n\t\t\tas the man who let New York get sucked down\n\t\t\tinto the tenth level of hell.\n\nThe Mayor stops to consider the situation.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Fire Captain)\n\t\t\tCan you get into that museum?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRE CAPTAIN\n</b>\t\t\tIf I had a nuclear warhead, maybe.\n\nThe Mayor turns to Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\tYou know why all these things are happening?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWe tried to tell you last night, but Mr.\n\t\t\tHard-On over here packed us off to the loony\n\t\t\tbin.\n\nHardemeyer flips out.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tThis is preposterous!  You can't seriously\n\t\t\tbelieve all this mumbo-jumbo!  It's the\n\t\t\tTwentieth Century, for crying out loud!\n\t\t\t\t (viciously, to Venkman)\n\t\t\tLook, mister, I don't know what this stuff\n\t\t\tis or how you got it all over the museum,\n\t\t\tbut you better get it off and I mean right\n\t\t\tnow!\n\nHe pounds the wall of slime with his fist, and they all watch in\namazement as his fist goes through the wall and he is sucked bodily\nthrough the slime curtain.  Only his shoes can be seen, embedded in the\nslime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Venkman)\n\t\t\tOkay, just tell me what you need.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  LIBERTY ISLAND (NEW YORK HARBOR) - NIGHT\n</b>\nWith the city skyline in the b.g., the Ghostbusters prepare their\nequipment.  Each of them dons a makeshift backpack consisting of tanks,\nhoses, nozzles and an abundance of gauges, valves and regulators.\nVenkman looks up at the Statue of Liberty looming above them.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tKind of makes you wonder, doesn't it?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tWonder what?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tIf she's naked under that toga.  She's\n\t\t\tFrench, you know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tThere's nothing under that toga but 300 tons\n\t\t\tof iron and steel.\n\nStantz is looking worried.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI hope we have enough stuff to do the job.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOnly one way to find out.\n\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tReady, Teddy?\n\nThey enter the statue.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  STATUE OF LIBERTY - MOMENTS LATER\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters are working from the iron staircase that spirals\nstraight up 100 feet inside the hollow super-structure of the statue.\nSpengler and Winston are busy assembling hundreds of wires connected to\nvarious relays on the interior surface of the statue.  Venkman and Stantz\nare mounting large auditorium loudspeakers near the top of the staircase.\nThey finish the installation, then Stantz dons one of the new backpacks\nand gives the order.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, boys.  Let's frost it.\n\nThey begin hosing the inside of the statue with the psycho-reactive\nslime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nJanine watches as Louis, wearing a Ghostbuster uniform, slings a heavy\nproton pack onto his back.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tI'm not sure this is such a good idea?  Do\n\t\t\tthey know you're doing this?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh, yeah, sure -- no.  But there's really\n\t\t\tnot much to do here and they might need\n\t\t\tsome back-up at the museum.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tYou're very brave, Louis.  Good luck.\n\nShe kisses Louis and he gets extremely self-conscious.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tUh -- oh -- well, I better hurry.\n\nHe rushes out.\n\n<b>EXT  STREET OUTSIDE FIREHOUSE - NIGHT (LITTLE LATER)\n</b>\nLouis stands on the street corner waiting for a bus.  Finally, a bus\npulls up, Louis climbs aboard and finds Slimer behind the wheel.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  STATUE OF LIBERTY - OBSERVATION DECK - MOMENTS LATER\n</b>\nVenkman, Stantz, Spengler and Winston are standing in the observation\nwindows in the crown of the statue.  It looks like they're on the bridge\nof an ocean liner, then the CAMERA PULLS BACK to reveal the head of the\nstatue.\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe plugs the main cable lead into a transformer.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt's all yours, Pete.\n\t\t\t\t (checks his watch)\n\t\t\tThere's not much time left.\n\nVenkman plugs the speaker cable into a Walkman and gives a downbeat.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (giving the downbeat)\n\t\t\tOkay, one, two, three, four --\n\nHe hits \"Play\" on the Walkman and \"HIGHER AND HIGHER\" BOOMS from the huge\nSPEAKERS, amplified by the statue's vast hollow interior.\n\n<b>INT.  OBSERVATION DECK - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe head of the statue lurches suddenly, but the Ghostbusters cling to\nthe rail and manage to keep their feet.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tShe's moving!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tI've lived in New York all my life and I\n\t\t\tnever visited the Statue of Liberty.  Now I\n\t\t\tfinally get here and we're taking her out\n\t\t\tfor a walk.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reading the Giga-meter)\n\t\t\tWe've got full power.\n\nStantz picks up a Nintendo control paddle from a home video game and\nstarts pushing the buttons.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (into a microphone)\n\t\t\tOkay, Libby.  Let's get it in gear.\n\nThey feel a strong vibration and the statue starts to move.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  SOUTH STREET SEAPORT - NIGHT\n</b>\nNew Years Eve celebrants line the riverfront, pointing and gawking at an\nincredible sight.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST RIVER - THEIR POV - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe statue is moving up the river almost completely submerged, only her\nhead from the nose up is visible above the surface.\n\n<b>INT.  OBSERVATION DECK - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nWinston looks out apprehensively.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tHow deep does it get?  That water's cold and\n\t\t\tI can't swim.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tIt's okay.  I have my Senior Lifesaving card.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWith a water temperature of forty degrees\n\t\t\twe'd survive approximately fifteen minutes.\n\nStantz studies a maritime navigational chart.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI'll keep to the middle of the channel.\n\t\t\tWe're okay to 59th Street, then we'll go\n\t\t\tashore and take First Avenue to 79th.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAre you kidding?  We'll hit all that bridge\n\t\t\ttraffic at 59th.  I'm going to take 72nd\n\t\t\tstraight up to Fifth.  Trust me, I used to\n\t\t\tdrive a cab.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  RIVERFRONT - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nSpectators cheer wildly, inspired by the sight of the Statue.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM RESTORATION STUDIO - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nJanosz is sitting next to Dana, still wheedling her with promises and\nself-serving logic.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tTime is running out, Dana.  Soon it will be\n\t\t\tmidnight and the city will be mine -- and\n\t\t\tVigo's.  Well, mainly Vigo's.  But we have\n\t\t\ta spectacular opportunity to make the best\n\t\t\tof our relationship.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tWe don't have a relationship.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tI know.  Marry me, Dana, and together we\n\t\t\twill raise Vigo as our son.  There are many\n\t\t\tperks that come with being the mother of a\n\t\t\tliving god.  I'm sure he will supply for us\n\t\t\ta magnificent apartment.  And perhaps a car\n\t\t\tand free parking.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI hate and despise you and everything you\n\t\t\tstand for with all my heart and soul.  I\n\t\t\tcould never forgive what you've done to me\n\t\t\tand my child.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tMany marriages begin with a certain amount\n\t\t\tof distance, but after a while I believe we\n\t\t\tcould learn to love each other.  Think about\n\t\t\tit.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI'd rather not.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  TIMES SQUARE - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nPeople are jammed together shoulder to shoulder filling Times Square,\nwatching the big Seiko clock count down the last ten minutes to midnight.\nSuddenly, they look down Broadway and see a magnificent sight.\n\n<b>EXT.  BROADWAY - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe Statue of Liberty is walking up Broadway approaching 42nd Street,\nwith \"Higher and Higher\" BOOMING from the SPEAKERS inside.  A great cheer\ngoes up, and the crowd goes wild with joy, dancing and singing along with\nthe MUSIC.\n\n<b>INT.  STATUE OF LIBERTY OBSERVATION DECK - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS)\n</b>\nSpengler reads the Giga-meter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tIt's working.  The positive GeV's are\n\t\t\tclimbing.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (patting the Statue)\n\t\t\tThey love you, Lib.  Keep it up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  FIFTH AVENUE - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nThe avenue has been closed to traffic and barricades placed, blocking all\nthe side streets.  A squadron of police motorcycles comes speeding around\nthe corner at 72nd Street and proceeds up Fifth Avenue in the direction\nof the museum.  Then MUSIC is heard BOOMING in the distance, the ground\nshakes and the Statue of Liberty comes walking around the corner onto\nFifth Avenue followed by a wildly cheering throng.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  OBSERVATION DECK - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters can see the museum ahead.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo far so good.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (worried)\n\t\t\tI'm worried.  The vibrations could shake her\n\t\t\tto pieces.  We should have padded her feet.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI don't think they make Nikes in her size.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWe're almost there, Lib.\n\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tStep on it.\n\n<b>EXT.  STREET - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe Statue's huge foot comes down and squashes a car.\n\n<b>INT.  OBSERVATION DECK - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters look down at the flattened car.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouts out the window)\n\t\t\tMy Fault!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouts)\n\t\t\tShe's new in town.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - RESTORATION STUDIO - SAME TIME\n</b>\nJanosz is painting the last of the mystical symbols on the baby's chest.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  TIMES SQUARE - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nThe people still in the square start counting off the last ten seconds to\nmidnight and the New Year.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCROWD\n</b>\t\t\t\t (chanting)\n\t\t\tTen .. nine ... eight ... seven ...\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - PAINTING - NIGHT\n</b>\nA strange light spreads over the painting.  As the light moves onto his\nface, Vigo spreads his arms wide and his upper body starts to emerge from\nthe canvas.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tSoon my life begins.  Then woe to the weak,\n\t\t\tall power to me, the world is mine.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - JANOSZ - NIGHT\n</b>\nThe baby's body begins to glow as Vigo reaches out for it.  Then suddenly\na dark shadow falls across the skylight.  Janosz looks up.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - JANOSZ'S POV - SKYLIGHT - NIGHT\n</b>\nThe Statue of Liberty is looming over the skylight looking down on Janosz\nwith an expression of righteous anger on it's face.\n\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nKneeling beside the museum, the statue draws back it's mighty right arm\nand smashes the skylight with its torch.\n\n<b>INT.  RESTORATION STUDIO - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nJanosz retreats from the shower of broken glass as the Ghostbusters come\nsliding down ropes into the studio and confront Janosz with their new\nweapons.  Quick as a flash, Dana seizes the moment, dashes across the\nstudio and snatches the baby from Vigo's outstretched arms.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Janosz)\n\t\t\tHappy New Year.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - VIGO PAINTING - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nVigo bellows in rage.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - STUDIO - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nJanosz steps in front of the painting.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tHi there.  Feel free to try something stupid.\n\nJanosz sneers, trusting the invincibility of Vigo.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou pitiful, miserable creatures!  You dare\n\t\t\tto challenge the power of darkness?  Don't\n\t\t\tyou realize what you are dealing with?  He's\n\t\t\tVigo!  You are like the buzzing of flies to\n\t\t\thim.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (sighs)\n\t\t\tOh, Johnny.  Did you back the wrong horse.\n\nWith that, the Ghostbusters fire their slime-blowers and hose Janosz from\nhead to toe, blowing him into the corner.  Then they turn to Vigo.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nHe is now almost completely out of the painting, but still held from the\nknees down.  He spits and rages at the Ghostbusters, trying to unleash\nhis magic powers.\n\n<b>THE GHOSTBUSTERS\n</b>\nThey stand fast, secure in the knowledge that Vigo's power has been\nneutralized by the good will of the people.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tVigi, Vigi, Vigi -- you have been a bad\n\t\t\tlittle monkey.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThe whole city's together on this one.  We\n\t\t\ttook a vote.  Everybody's down on you, you\n\t\t\tknow.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (arming his slime-blower)\n\t\t\tSay goodnight now.\n\nSuddenly Vigo grabs Stantz by the neck and holds him up as a shield.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tDon't shoot!  You'll hit Ray!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (strangling)\n\t\t\tDo it!  Just do it!\n\nWinston fires and hoses both Vigo and Ray.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nHe bellows and drops Ray, then falls back into the painting.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - PAINTING - NIGHT\n</b>\nThe paint turns liquid, melts off the canvas and runs onto the floor\nrevealing another painting underneath it.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - GHOSTBUSTERS - NIGHT (AFTER BATTLE)\n</b>\nVenkman, Spengler and Winston rush over to Ray and kneel beside him.  He\nis completely covered with slime and motionless.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (examining him)\n\t\t\tHe's breathing.\n\nWinston wipes the slime off Ray's face and Ray opens his eyes.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tRay -- Ray -- How do you feel, man?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (smiles lovingly)\n\t\t\tGroovy.  I've never felt better in my life.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOh, no.  We've got to live with this?\n\nThey pull him to his feet.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI love you guys.  You're the best friends\n\t\t\tI've ever had.\n\nHe hugs them each in turn, leaving them slimed as well.  Venkman recoils\nin disgust.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHey, I just had this suit cleaned.\n\t\t\t\t (indicating Janosz)\n\t\t\tTake care of the wiggler, will you.\n\nVenkman crosses to Dana who is snuggling the baby.  She hugs Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat is this -- a love in?\n\t\t\t\t (notes the symbols painted\n\t\t\t\t on the baby's body)\n\t\t\tHey, sailor.  I think the tattoos are a\n\t\t\tlittle much, don't you?\n\nHe picks up the baby.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Venkman)\n\t\t\tI think he likes you.  I think I do too.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tFinally came to your senses, huh?\n\nThey hug and kiss.\n\n<b>SPENGLER, WINSTON AND STANTZ\n</b>\nThey help Janosz to his feet.  He's dazed but unhurt.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (restored to normalcy)\n\t\t\tWhat happened?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (calmly)\n\t\t\tSir, you had a violent, prolonged,\n\t\t\ttransformative psychic episode.  But it's\n\t\t\tover now.  Want a coffee?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (extremely nice)\n\t\t\tThat's very kind of you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tHe's fine, Ray.  Physically intact,\n\t\t\tpsychomagnetherically neutral.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tIs that good?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tIt's where you want to be.\n\nAs they exit they stop to examine the painting that was concealed by\nVigo's self-portrait.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tLate Renaissance, I think.  Caravaggio or\n\t\t\tBrunelleschi.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (staring at it)\n\t\t\tThere's something very familiar about this\n\t\t\tpainting.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - NEW PAINTING - NIGHT\n</b>\nIt's a beautiful painting in the high-Renaissance style depicting four\narchangels hovering protectively over a cherubic baby.  One holds a harp,\none, an olive branch, the third, a book, and the last, a sword.  Most\nremarkably, their faces bear an uncanny resemblance to Venkman, Stantz,\nSpengler and Winston.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  STREET - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nA city bus pulls up near the museum and Louis steps off.  He waves his\nthanks to Slimer who is behind the wheel.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Slimer)\n\t\t\tOkay, so Monday night we'll get something\n\t\t\tto eat and maybe go bowling?  Can you bowl\n\t\t\twith those little arms?\n\nSLIMER GRUNTS and SLOBBERS a reply, flexing his scrawny biceps.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, I have to go save Dana.  I'll see you\n\t\t\tlater.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. MUSEUM - NIGHT (LITTLE LATER)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters are greeted by wild cheering and applause as they come\nout the main entrance with Dana and the baby.  Everybody starts singing\n\"Auld Lang Syne.\"  Louis picks his way through the celebrating crowd and\nfinds the Ghostbusters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tAm I too late?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo, you're right on time.\n\nStantz pops the cork on a bottle of champagne and hands it to him.\n\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM ENTRANCE - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nHardemeyer staggers out of the museum covered in slime.  He looks at the\ncelebrating crowd and his eyes fill with tears.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (weepy)\n\t\t\tHappy New Year, everybody!\n\nHe joins in on \"Auld Lang Syne.\"\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  CENTRAL PARK - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nThe Statue of Liberty is sprawled inert on her back in the park behind\nthe museum, her toga up over her knees.  The Mayor looks nearly suicidal.\nThe Ghostbusters stand beside him commiserating.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tShe's all right.  She's just sleeping it off.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (stricken)\n\t\t\tWe just had it restored.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThis probably isn't a good time to bring\n\t\t\tthis up, but the last time we did a job for\n\t\t\tthe city you stiffed us.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (handing the Mayor an\n\t\t\t\t invoice)\n\t\t\tThis is a bill for tonight's job.\n\nThe Mayor looks at it and gasps at the amount.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\tWhat!  This is way too much.\n\t\t\t\t (hands the bill back to\n\t\t\t\t Venkman)\n\t\t\tWe won't pay.\n\nVenkman looks at the Statue.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tI think she looks pretty good here, don't\n\t\t\tyou?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, and a lot easier to get to than that island.\n\nRealizing he has no alternative, the Mayor sighs and takes the bill back.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\tAll right, all right.  If you can wait until\n\t\tMonday I'll issue you a check.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\tSorry.  No checks.  Company policy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tCUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. LIBERTY ISLAND - DAY (WEEKS LATER)\n</b>\nThe sun is shining brightly and Liberty is back on her pedestal where she\nbelongs.  The Mayor and a host of officials are commemorating her return.\nThe Ghostbusters, Dana, Janine and Louis are there as honored guests.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t(looking up at the statue)\n\t\tPretty impressive, huh?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t(musing)\n\t\tIt's probably the first thing my\n\t\tgrandparents saw when they came to this\n\t\tcountry.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\tFrom where -- Neptune?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\tThey came from Ostrov in Eastern Poland.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\tOstrov?  I've been there.  Good party town.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t(in a similarly reflective\n\t\t\tmood)\n\t\tMy great-grandparents were Swiss.  I still\n\t\thave the pictures they took of the statue\n\t\tfrom the boat when they arrived.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\tOh, right, you told me that.  They came to\n\t\tAmerica seeking other kinds of cheese, as I\n\t\trecall.  How about you, Winston?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tMy people weren't taking any pictures from\n\t\t\tthose slave ships, man.  And there wasn't\n\t\t\tany Statue in Charleston Harbor to welcome\n\t\t\tthem, either.  What are you, Dana?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tMiss Blue Blood?  Her family's been here\n\t\t\tsince the year 12.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThat's not true.  It was 1620.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSame difference.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWhat's your story, Pete?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tMe?  I'm a little of everything.  Some Irish,\n\t\t\tsome German, some French, Dutch -- the women\n\t\t\tin my family slept around.  And that's what\n\t\t\tmade this country great.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThat's a terrible thing to say.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo what?  It's a free country.\n\t\t\t\t (looking up at the Statue)\n\t\t\tThanks, Lib.\n\nThey all look up at the Statue.\n\n<b>EXT.  STATUE OF LIBERTY - HEAD OF STATUE - DAY\n</b>\nSlimer flies out one of the observation windows, THEME MUSIC KICKS IN and\nthe CAMERA PULLS UP and AWAY FROM the island TO a HIGH SHOT of the\nStatue, lower Manhattan and the shining sea beyond.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tFADE OUT.\n</b>\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tTHE END\n</b>\n\nNow, answer the question based on the story asconcisely as you can, using a single phrase if possible. Do not provide any explanation.\n\nQuestion: Who is the first person that falls under Vigo's spell?\n\nAnswer:"}
{"question_id": 137, "category": "longbench_narrativeqa", "reference": ["museum"], "prompt": "You are given a story, which can be either a novel or a movie script, and a question. Answer the question asconcisely as you can, using a single phrase if possible. Do not provide any explanation.\n\nStory: \t\t\t\t\t\tGhostbusters II\n\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\tby\n\t\t\t\t\t\tHarold Ramis\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\tand\n\t\t\t\t\t\tDan Aykroyd\n\n\t\t\t\t\t September 29, 1988\n\t\t\t\tLast revised Feburary 27, 1989\n\n\n<b>EXT.  MANHATTAN ISLAND - DAY\n</b>\nA high AERIAL SHOT of the island features the Statue of Liberty\nprominently in the foreground then TRAVELS ACROSS the harbor, OVER the\nBattery and Lower Manhattan to Greenwich Village.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - DAY\n</b>\nA car is being hoisted up by a municipal tow truck while its owner is\nhaving a terrible screaming arguement with a parking enforcement officer.\nDANA BARRETT comes home pushing a baby buggy, struggling with two full\nbags of groceries, and trying to dig her keys out of her purse. The\n\nbuilding superintendent FRANK, sees her struggling but pretends not to\nnotice.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (exasperated)\n\t\t\tFrank, do you think you could give me a hand\n\t\t\twith these bags?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\tI'm not a doorman, Miss Barrett.  I'm a\n\t\t\tbuilding superintendent.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tYou're also a human being, Frank.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reluctantly going to help)\n\t\t\tOkay, okay.  It's not my job, but what the\n\t\t\thell.  I'll do you a favor.  He takes the\n\t\t\tgrocery bags from her.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (setting the wheel brakes on\n\t\t\t\t the buggy)\n\t\t\tThank you, Frank.  I'll get the hang of this\n\t\t\teventually.\n\nShe continues digging in her purse while Frank leans over the buggy and\nmakes funny faces at the baby, OSCAR, a very cute nine-month old boy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the baby)\n\t\t\tHiya, Oscar.  What do you say, slugger?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tThat's a good-looking kid you got there, Ms.\n\t\t\tBarrett.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (finding her keys)\n\t\t\tThank you, Frank.  Oh, are you ever going to\n\t\t\tfix the radiator in my bedroom?  I asked you\n\t\t\tlast week.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\tDidn't I do it?\n\n<b>BABY BUGGY\n</b>\nIt starts to vibrate as if shaken by an unseen hand.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - BABY - DAY\n</b>\nHe GURGLES with delight at the movement.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - DANA AND FRANK - DAY\n</b>\nNeither of them notice the movement of the carriage.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tNo, you didn't, Frank.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFRANK\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, that's no problem.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThat's exactly what you said last week.\n\n<b>BUGGY WHEELS\n</b>\nThe brakes unlock themselves.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe reaches for the handlebar of the buggy, but the buggy rolls forward\njust out of her reach and stops.  Surprised by the movement, she reaches\nfor the handlebar again, but this time the buggy rolls away even\nfurther.  Alarmed now, Dana hurries after it, but the buggy keeps\nrolling down the street at ever increasing speed.\n\n<b>SIDEWALK\n</b>\nDana chases the buggy down the street, shouting to passing pedestrians\nfor help, but every time someone reaches out to stop it, the buggy\nswerves and continues unchecked.\n\n<b>INTERSECTION\n</b>\nCars, trucks, and buses speed by in both directions as the buggy races\ntoward the corner.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe puts her head down and sprints after the buggy like an Olympian.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - INTERSECTION - DAY\n</b>\nA city bus is on a collision course with the speeding baby buggy.\n\n<b>BUGGY\n</b>\nIt careens toward the corner.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - BABY - DAY\n</b>\nIts eyes are wide open with excitement.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - INTERSECTION - DAY\n</b>\nBus and buggy are closing fast as the buggy bounces over the curb and\ninto the crosswalk.\n\n<b>BUS\n</b>\nThe bus driver reacts in helpless horror as he sees the buggy enter the\nintersection at high speed.\n\n<b>BUGGY\n</b>\nIt comes to a dead stop right in the middle of the street.  The bus\ncontinues missing the buggy by inches.\n\n<b>INTERSECTION\n</b>\nCars and trucks swerve and hit their brakes as Dana runs into the\nintersection and snatches up the baby.  She hugs it close, deeply\nrelieved, then looks at the buggy with the dawning awareness that the\nsupernatural has re-entered her life.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  UPPER WEST SIDE - NEW YORK CITY STREET - GHOSTBUSTERS LOGO - DAY\n</b>\nTHEME MUSIC kicks in strongly as we see the familiar \"No Ghosts\" symbol\nand PULL BACK to reveal that it's painted on the side of Ecto-1, the\nGhostbusters' emergency vehicle, which is speeding up Broadway on the\nUpper West Side.  RAY STANTZ is driving and WINSTON ZEDDEMORE is riding\nshotgun.\n\n<b>EXT.  WEST 77TH STREET - DAY  (MOMENTS LATER)\n</b>\nThe Ectomobile pulls up in front of a carefully-restored brownstone.\nStantz and Winston, wearing their official Ghostbuster uniforms, jump\nout of the old ambulance, shoulder their proton packs and enter the\nhouse.\n\n<b>INT.  BROWNSTONE - DAY  (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nA WOMAN greets them and leads them through the expensively-furnished\nhouse.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (all business)\n\t\t\tHow many of them are there, ma'am?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWOMAN\n</b>\t\t\tFourteen.  They're in the back.  I hope you can\n\t\t\thandle them.  It's been like a nightmare.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tHow big are they?\n\nShe holds her hand out indicating about four feet.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (resolute)\n\t\t\tWe'll do our best, ma'am.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWOMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThey're right out here.\n\nShe leads them to a set of French doors that open into another room.\nStantz and Winston pause to make final adjustments to their equipment.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tReady?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tI'm ready.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThen let's do it.\n\nHe pushes through the French doors and they step into the room.\n\n<b>INT.  BROWNSTONE - DAY  (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThey are immediately attacked by fourteen or fifteen screaming KIDS\nbetween the ages of seven and ten.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tKIDS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (disappointed)\n\t\t\tGhostbusters!!  Boooo!!\n\nTables are set with party favors, ice cream and birthday cake and the\nroom is strewn with discarded toys and games.  A couple of weary parents\nsink onto lawn chairs as Stantz and Winston take over the party.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (trying his best)\n\t\t\tHow you doin', kids?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLITTLE BOY\n</b>\t\t\t\t (nasty)\n\t\t\tI though we were having He-Man.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tHe-Man couldn't make it today.  That's why\n\t\t\twe're here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tBOY\n</b>\t\t\tMy dad says you're full of crap.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (stopped cold)\n\t\t\tWell, a lot of people have trouble believing\n\t\t\tin the paranormal.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tBOY\n</b>\t\t\tNo, he just says you're full of crap and that's\n\t\t\twhy you went out of business.\n\nHe kicks Stantz in the leg.  Stantz grabs him by the shirtfront.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (low and menacing)\n\t\t\tI'm watching you.\n\t\t\t\t (to Winston)\n\t\t\tSong.\n\nWinston switches on a tiny TAPE RECORDER which starts PLAYING the\nGhostbusters THEME SONG. Stantz and WInston start singing\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ AND WINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t'There's something wrong in the neighborhood.\n\t\t\tWho you gonna call?'\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tKIDS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (all together)\n\t\t\tHe-Man!!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. WEST 77TH STREET - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nStantz and Winston wearily load their equipment into the Ectomobile.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tThat's it, Ray.  I've had it.  No more parties.\n\t\t\tI'm tired of taking abuse from over-privileged\n\t\t\tnine-year-olds.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tCome on, Winston.  We can't quit now.  The\n\t\t\tholidays are coming up.  It's our best season.\n\nThey get in the car\n\n<b>INT.  ECTO-1 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nStantz tries to start the car, but the engine won't turn over.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tGive it up, Ray.  You're living in the past.\n\t\t\tGhostbusters doesn't exist anymore.  In a year\n\t\t\tthese kids won't even remember who we are.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (tries to start the car again)\n\t\t\tUngrateful little Yuppie larvae.  After all we\n\t\t\tdid for this city.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, what did we do, Ray?  The last real job\n\t\t\twe had we bubbled up a hundred foot marshmallow\n\t\t\tman and blew the top three floors off an uptown\n\t\t\thighrise.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, but what a ride.  You can't make a\n\t\t\thamburger without chopping up a cow.\n\nHe turns the key again, the ENGING TURNS OVER, then starts GRINDING and\nCLUNKING disastrously, chewing up vital parts and dropping twisted bits\nof metal onto the pavement.  Finally, with a BLAST of black sooty\nexhaust from the tailpipe, Ecto-1 shudders and dies.  Frustrated, Stantz\nbangs his head lightly on the steering wheel\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  WKRR-TV STUDIO RECEPTION AREA - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nA bank of monitors in the lobby show the program now running on WKRR,\nChannel 10 in New York. We PUSH IN ON one of the monitors as a title\ncard and logo come up accompanied by some EERIE SYNTHESIZER MUSIC, and\nwe return to the show in progress: \"World of the Psychic with Dr. Peter\nVenkman.\"  There is a video dissolve to a standard talk show set and\nsitting there is our host PETER VENKMAN, the renowned and somewhat\ninfamous ex-Ghostbuster.\n\n<b>VENKMAN\n</b>\nHe turns TO CAMERA and talks to his viewers in a suavely engaging tone,\nunderstated and intimate.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHi, welcome back to the 'World of the Psychic,'\n\t\t\tI'm Peter Venkman and I'm chatting with my guest,\n\t\t\tauthor, lecturer and of course, psychic, Milton\n\t\t\tAnglund.\n\t\t\t\t (to his guest)\n\t\t\tMilt, your new book is called The End of the\n\t\t\tWorld.  Isn't that kind of like writing about\n\t\t\tgum disease.  Yes, it could happen, but do you\n\t\t\tthink anybody wants to read a book about it?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMILTON\n</b>\t\t\tWell, I think it's important for people to know\n\t\t\tthat the world is in danger.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, so can you tell us when it's going to\n\t\t\thappen or do we have to buy the book?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMILTON\n</b>\t\t\tI predict that the world will end at the\n\t\t\tstroke of midnight on New Year's Eve.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThis year?  That's cutting it a little close,\n\t\t\tisn't it?  I mean, just from a sales point of\n\t\t\tview, the book just came out, right?  So you're\n\t\t\tnot even looking at the paperback release for\n\t\t\tmaybe a year.  And it's going to be at least\n\t\t\tanother year after that if the thing has\n\t\t\tmovie-of-the-week or mini-series potential.\n\t\t\tYou would have been better off predicting 1992\n\t\t\tor even '94 just to be safe.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMILTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (irritated)\n\t\t\tThis is not just some money-making scheme!  I\n\t\t\tdidn't just make up the date.  I have a strong\n\t\t\tpsychic belief that the world will end on New\n\t\t\tYear's Eve.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (placating)\n\t\t\tWell, for your sake, I hope you're right.  But\n\t\t\tI think my other guest may disagree with you.\n\t\t\tElaine, you had another date in mind?\n\nThe CAMERA REVEALS ELAINE, an attractive, aggressive New Jersey\nhousewife, sitting on the other side of Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tELAINE\n</b>\t\t\tAccording to my sources, the world will end\n\t\t\ton February 14, in the year 2016.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tValentine's Day.  That's got to be a bummer.\n\t\t\tWhere did you get that date, Elaine?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tELAINE\n</b>\t\t\tI received this information from an alien.  I\n\t\t\twas at the Paramus Holiday Inn, I was having\n\t\t\ta drink in the bar when he approached me and\n\t\t\tstarted talking.  Then he must have used some\n\t\t\tsort of ray or a mind control device because\n\t\t\the made me follow him to his room and that's\n\t\t\twhere he told me about the end of the world.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYour alien had a room in the Holiday Inn?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tELAINE\n</b>\t\t\tIt may have been a room on the spacecraft made\n\t\t\tup to look like a room in the Holiday Inn.  I\n\t\t\tcan't be sure, Peter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (humoring her)\n\t\t\tNo, you can't, and I think that's the whole\n\t\t\tproblem with aliens; you just can't trust them.\n\t\t\tYou may get some nice ones occasionally like\n\t\t\tStarman or E.T., but most of them turn out to\n\t\t\tbe some kind of lizard.  Anyway, we're just\n\t\t\tabout out of time.\n\t\t\t\t (does his wrap-up right TO\n\t\t\t\t the CAMERA)\n\t\t\tNext week on 'World of the Psychic,' hairless\n\t\t\tpets.\n\t\t\t\t (holds up a hairless cat)\n\t\t\tUntil then, this is Peter Venkman saying ...\n\t\t\t\t (puts a finger to his temple\n\t\t\t\t and sends out a though to his\n\t\t\t\t viewers)\n\t\t\t... Good night.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT. TV STUDIO - CORRIDOR - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nVenkman comes out of the studio squabbling with his producer, NORMAN, a\nwell-meaning young incompetent.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhere do you find these people?  I thought\n\t\t\twe were having the telekinetic guy who bends\n\t\t\tthe spoons?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tNORMAN\n</b>\t\t\tA lot of the better psychics won't come on the\n\t\t\tshow.  They think you're too skeptical.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSkeptical!  Norman, I'm a pushover.  I think\n\t\t\tprofessional wrestling is real.\n\nThere is a small commotion down the hall as two plainclothes cops come\nout of the next studio followed by a group of mayoral assistants.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Norman)\n\t\t\tWhat's all this?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tNORMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThey just interviewed the mayor on 'Cityline.'\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThe Mayor!  He's a friend of mine.\n\nVenkman starts down the hall as the MAYOR and his principal aide, JACK\nHARDEMEYER, come walking out of the studio.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (calling to the Mayor)\n\t\t\tLenny!\n\nThe Mayor sees Venkman, blanches and hurries off, pretending not to know\nhim.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (starts to follow him)\n\t\t\tLenny!  It's Pete Venkman!\n\nThe plainclothesmen cut Venkman off and Hardemeyer puts a heavy hand\nagainst Venkman's chest.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (snide)\n\t\t\tCan I help you?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (dangerous)\n\t\t\tYeah, you can get your hand off my chest.\n\nHardemeyer smiles and drops his hand.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tI'm Jack Hardemeyer.  I'm the mayor's assistant.\n\t\t\tWhat can I do for you?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm an old friend of the mayor's.  I just\n\t\t\twant to say hello to him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (scornful)\n\t\t\tI know who you are, Doctor Venkman.  Busting\n\t\t\tany ghosts lately?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNo, that's what I want to talk to the mayor\n\t\t\tabout.  We did a little job for the city a\n\t\t\twhile back and we ended up getting sued,\n\t\t\tscrewed and tattooed by deskworms like you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (bristling)\n\t\t\tLook, you stay away from the mayor.  Next fall,\n\t\t\tbarring a disaster, he's going to be elected\n\t\t\tgovernor of this state and the last thing we\n\t\t\tneed is for him to be associated with two-bit\n\t\t\tfrauds and publicity hounds like you and your\n\t\t\tfriends.  You read me?\n\nHardemeyer walks off with the two cops.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, I get it.  But I want you to tell Lenny\n\t\t\tthat, because of you, I'm not voting for him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. MANHATTAN MUSEUM OF ART - DAY\n</b>\nThe broad front steps of the museum are crowded with tourists and\nvisitors.  Dana arrives carrying a portfolio and artist's tackle box and\nenters the museum.\n\n<b>INT. MUSEUM - RESTORATION STUDIO - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nWe are FULL-FRAME ON a larger-than-life, full-figure portrait of VIGO\nTHE CARPATHIAN, a demented and sadistic 16th century despot with an\nincredibly powerful evil presence.  Then we PULL BACK to reveal the\nstudio, which is a large open space on the top floor of the museum, lit\nby large skylights in the ceiling.  Working on the Vigo painting is\nJANOSZ POHA, a youngish art historian and painter, the head of the\ndepartment, quirky, intense and somewhat creepy.  Janosz is staring\nlongingly across the room at Dana.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe is carefully cleaning a 19th Century landscape painting, still\npreoccupied by the extraordinary near-accident with the buggy.  Janosz\nwatches her for a moment, then comes up behind her and looks over her\nshoulder.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with an East European accent)\n\t\t\tStill working on the Turner?\n\nDana jumps, startled by the intrusion.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tOh, yes, I got in a little late this morning,\n\t\t\tJanosz.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou know, you are really doing very good work\n\t\t\there.  I think soon you may be ready to assist\n\t\t\tme in some of the more important restorations.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThank you, Janosz.  I've learned a lot here,\n\t\t\tbut now that my baby's a little older, I was\n\t\t\thoping to rejoin the orchestra.\n\n<b>VIGO PAINTING\n</b>\nAt the mention of Dana's baby, the figure of Vigo miraculously turns his\nhead and looks at Dana.\n\n<b>JANOSZ AND DANA\n</b>\nNeither of them notice the movement in the painting.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (disappointed)\n\t\t\tWe'll be very sorry to lose you.  Perhaps I\n\t\t\tcould take you to lunch today?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tActually, I'm not eating lunch today.  I have\n\t\t\tan appointment.\n\t\t\t\t (looks at her watch)\n\t\t\tIn fact, I'd better go.\n\nShe starts gathering up her things.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tEvery day I ask you, and every day you've got\n\t\t\tsomething else to do.  Do I have bad breath\n\t\t\tor something?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (trying to brush him off)\n\t\t\tI'm sorry.  Perhaps some other time.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, I'll take a raincheck on that.\n\nJanosz smiles at her as she exits, then goes back to his easel.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to himself)\n\t\t\tI think she likes me.\n\nHe switches on an English language TAPE and starts practicing the\nphrases as he resumes working.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. UNIVERSITY - DAY\n</b>\nDana Barrett crosses the quad and enters a modern building.  A sign\nidentifies it as \"The Institute for Advanced Theoretical Research.\"\n\n<b>INT. UNIVERSITY - DAY (A LITTLE LATER)\n</b>\nDana is explaining the buggy incident to EGON SPENGLER, the soberly\nintellectual techno-wizard and former Ghostbuster, as he conducts an\nexperiment assisted by a research team of graduate students, all of whom\nare Japanese, Chinese, or Korean.  The device he is testing is a black\nbox about the size of a Sony Watchman with both digital and graphic\ndisplays.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t... and then the buggy just suddenly stopped\n\t\t\tdead in the middle of the street\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\n\t\t\tDid anyone else see this happen?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHundreds of people.  Believe me, I didn't\n\t\t\timagine this.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI'm not saying you did.  In science we always\n\t\t\tlook for the simplest explanation.\n\nAn ASSISTANT interrupts.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tASSISTANT\n</b>\t\t\tWe're ready, Dr. Spengler\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Assistant)\n\t\t\tWe'll start with the negative calibration.\n\nHe picks up the device and prepares to test it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (curious)\n\t\t\tWhat are you working on, Egon?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI'm trying to determine whether human\n\t\t\temotional states have a measurable effect on\n\t\t\tthe psychomagnetheric energy field.  It's a\n\t\t\ttheory Ray and I were working on when we had\n\t\t\tto dissolve Ghostbusters.\n\nAn assistant draws a curtain revealing a large picture window, actually\na two-way mirror, that looks into a small waiting room.  Inside the\nwaiting room they can see but not hear a youngish couple having a heated\narguement.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tThey think they're here for marriage\n\t\t\tcounseling.  We've kept them waiting for two\n\t\t\thours and we've been gradually increasing the\n\t\t\ttemperature in the room.\n\t\t\t\t (checking a heat sensor)\n\t\t\tIt's up to 95 degrees at the moment.  Now my\n\t\t\tassistant is going to enter and ask them if\n\t\t\tthey'd mind waiting another half-hour.\n\nAs Spengler, Dana, and the research team watch, the assistant enters the\nwaiting room and tells the couple about the new delay.  They explode\nwith anger both at him and each other while Spengler monitors them\nthrough the glass.  After recording his readings, he returns to his\nAssistant.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWe'll do the happiness index next.\n\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tI'd like to bring Ray in on your case, if\n\t\t\tit's all right with you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, whatever you think -- but not Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tOh no.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (affectedly casual)\n\t\t\tDo you ever see him?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tOccasionally\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHow is he these days?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tVenkman?  I think he was borderline for a\n\t\t\twhile there.  Then he crossed the border.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tDoes he ever mention me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tNo.  Not that I can recall.\n\nThey move to another two-way mirror through which they can see a lovely\nlittle girl playing with a wonderful array of toys.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (slightly disappointed)\n\t\t\tWell, we didn't part on very good terms and\n\t\t\twe sort of lost track of each other when I\n\t\t\tgot married.\n\nThe Assistant interrupts again.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tASSISTANT\n</b>\t\t\tWe're ready for the affection test.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the assistant)\n\t\t\tGood.  Send in the puppy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (continuing)\n\t\t\tI thought of calling him after my marriage\n\t\t\tended, but --.  Anyway, I appreciate you're\n\t\t\tdoing this, Egon\n\nThey watch as another assistant enters the playroom with an adorable\nCocker Spaniel puppy and gives it to the little girl.  Spengler monitors\nher as she jumps for joy and hugs the little dog.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (handing him a card)\n\t\t\tThis is my address and telephone number.\n\t\t\tWill you call me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tCertainly.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tEgon, I'd rather you didn't mention any of\n\t\t\tthis to Peter if you don't mind.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI won't.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThank you.\n\nShe shakes his hand and exits.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to his assistant)\n\t\t\tNow let's see how she reacts when we take\n\t\t\taway the puppy\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. RAY'S OCCULT BOOK STORE - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nIt's a small basement shop located on a quaint commercial block in\nGreenwich Village.  The window is crowded with occult artifacts and old\nbooks full of arcane metaphysical lore.  The TELEPHONE RINGS.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (v.o., answering the phone)\n\t\t\tRay's Occult.\n\n<b>INT. RAY'S OCCULT BOOKS - CONTINUOUS\n</b>\nThe shelves are jammed floor to ceiling with books on the paranormal.\nRay sits on a barstool behind the counter wearing an old cardigan\nsweater over a T-shirt.  He has on a pair of reading glasses and chews\non a battered, reeking pipe.  As he talks on the phone he prepares a cup\nof herb tea for Spengler who is thumbing through an arcane text.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on the phone)\n\t\t\tYeah ... mmhmm ... What do you need? ... What\n\t\t\thave I got?  I've got alchemy, astrology,\n\t\t\tapparitions, Bundu Magic Men, demon\n\t\t\tintercession, U.F.O. abductions, psychic\n\t\t\tsurgery, stigmata, modern miracles, pixie\n\t\t\tsightings, golden geese, geists, ghosts, I've\n\t\t\tgot it all -- what are you looking for? ...\n\t\t\tDon't have any.  Try the stockyards.\n\nHe hangs up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWho was that?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tSome crank.  Looking for goat hooves.  Come\n\t\t\tup with anything?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (referring to the book)\n\t\t\tThis one's interesting.  Berlin, 1939, a\n\t\t\tflower cart took off by itself and rolled\n\t\t\tapproximately half a kilometer over level\n\t\t\tground.  Three hundred eyewitnesses.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou might want to check those Duke University\n\t\t\tmean averaging studies on controlled\n\t\t\tpsychokinesis.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (going to the stacks)\n\t\t\tGood idea.\n\nThe bones hanging over the door rattle as Venkman enters the shop.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOh, hello, perhaps you could help me.  I'm\n\t\t\tlooking for an aerosol love potion I could\n\t\t\tspray on a certain Penthouse Pet that would\n\t\t\tmake her unconditionally submit to an unusual\n\t\t\tpersonal request.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOh, hiya, Pete.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo, no goat hooves, huh?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (strung)\n\t\t\tI knew that voice sounded familiar.  What's\n\t\t\tup?  How's it going?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNowhere -- fast.  Why don't you lock up and\n\t\t\tbuy me a sub?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (slightly evasive)\n\t\t\tUh, I can't.  I'm kind of working on something.\n\nSpengler steps out of the stacks.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tEgon!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tHello, Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHow've you been?  How's teaching?  I bet\n\t\t\tthose science chicks really dig that big\n\t\t\tcranium of yours, huh?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI think they're more interested in my\n\t\t\tepididymis.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI don't even want to know where that is.\n\nVenkman steps behind the counter and takes a beer from Ray's mini-fridge.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOh, your book came in, Venkman.  Magical\n\t\t\tPaths to Fortune and Power.\n\nHe hands Venkman the book.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tGreat.\n\t\t\t\t (reading the contents)\n\t\t\tSo what are you guys working on?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOh, just checking something for an old friend.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWho?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (at a loss)\n\t\t\tWho?  Just -- someone we know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOh, Ray --\n\nHe grabs Stantz by both ears and pulls up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWho?  Who?  Who?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tAaah!  Nobody!  I can't tell you!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWho, Ray?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (giving in)\n\t\t\tDana!  Dana Barrett!\n\nVenkman lets go of his ears and smiles.  Spengler looks at Stantz and\nshakes his head.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT. DANA'S APARTMENT - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThe apartment is old and creatively furnished with a comfortable mix of\nmodern and traditional pieces.  Maria, a young Hispanic woman who does\nday care for Dana, is feeding the baby in the kitchen when the DOORBELL\n<b>RINGS.\n</b>\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\nDana enters from the bedroom and crosses to the front door.  She opens\nit and admits Ray and Egon.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (hugging Ray)\n\t\t\tHi, Ray.  It's good to see you.  Thanks for\n\t\t\tcoming.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo problem.  Always glad to help -- and hug.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Spengler)\n\t\t\tHi, Egon.\n\nShe shakes his hand and is about to close the door when Venkman appears\nin the doorway.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHi, Dana.\n\nDana is caught completely off guard by Venkman's surprise appearance.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI knew you'd come crawling back to me.\n\nShe regards him coolly, as always amused and amazed at his\npresumptuousness.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHello, Peter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tYou know, Dana, I'm very very hurt that you\n\t\t\tdidn't call me first.  I'm still into all\n\t\t\tthis stuff, you know.  Haven't you ever seen\n\t\t\tmy show?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI have.  That's why I didn't call you first.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI can see that you're still very bitter about\n\t\t\tus, but in the interest of science, I'm going\n\t\t\tto give it my best shot.  Let's go to work,\n\t\t\tboys.\n\nStantz and Spengler begin a comprehensive parapsychological work-up on\nthe baby and the immediate physical environment.\n\n<b>VENKMAN AND DANA\n</b>\nVenkman starts nosing around the apartment.  Dana follows him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo what happened to Mr. Right?  I hear he\n\t\t\tditched you and the kid and moved to Europe.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHe didn't \"ditch\" me.  We had some problems,\n\t\t\the got a good offer from an orchestra in\n\t\t\tEngland and he took it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHe ditched you.  You should've married me,\n\t\t\tyou know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tYou never asked me, and every time I brought\n\t\t\tit up you'd get drowsy and fall asleep.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tMen are very sensitive, you know.  We need to\n\t\t\tfeel loved and desired, too.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tWell, when you started introducing me as \"the\n\t\t\told ball and chain,\" that's when I left.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI may have a few personal problems but one thing\n\t\t\tI am is a total professional.\n\nHe leaves her and crosses to Spengler.\n\n<b>SPENGLER\n</b>\nHe's taking a complete set of body and head measurements of the baby\nwith a tape measure and calipers.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat are you going to do, Egon?  Knit him a\n\t\t\tsnowsuit?\n\nSpengler ignores the remark and hands Venkman a specimen jar.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI'd like to have a stool specimen\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, you would.  Is that for personal or\n\t\t\tprofessional reasons?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (picking up the baby)\n\t\t\tOkay, kid.  Up you go.\n\nHe starts clowning with the baby, holding him over his head and pressing\nhis nose into the baby's belly, pretending that the baby is attacking\nhim.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHelp!  Please somebody help me!  Get him off!\n\t\t\tQuickly!  He's gone completely berserk!\n\nDana is amused and somewhat disarmed by Venkman's rapport with the baby.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tWhat do you think?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThere's no doubt about it.  He's got his\n\t\t\tfather's looks.  The kid is ugly -- extremely\n\t\t\tugly.  And smelly.\n\t\t\t\t (resumes playing with the baby)\n\t\t\tYou stink!  It's just horrible.  You are the\n\t\t\tstinkiest baby I ever smelled.\n\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tWhat's his name?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHis name is Oscar.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOscar!  You poor kid!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (losing patience)\n\t\t\tPeter, this is serious.  I need to know if you\n\t\t\tthink there's anything unusual about him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tUnusual?\n\t\t\t\t (holds up the baby and\n\t\t\t\t scrutinizes him)\n\t\t\tI don't know.  I haven't had a lot of\n\t\t\texperience with babies.\n\nHe looks at the baby, pulling his feet up, trying to get the sleeper\noff.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (taking the specimen jar)\n\t\t\tI'll do it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'll supervise.\n\n<b>INT. DANA'S APARTMENT - NURSERY - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nVenkman enters and finds Stantz monitoring the room.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tWell, Holmes, what do you think?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt's an interesting one, Pete.  If anything\n\t\t\twas going on it's totally subdued now.\n\nSpengler enters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Spengler)\n\t\t\tWhat now, Brainiac?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI think we should see if we can find\n\t\t\tanything abnormal on the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tFinding something abnormal on the street\n\t\t\tshouldn't be too hard.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. EAST 77TH STREET - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nDana walks down the street with Venkman, retracing the path of the\nrunaway buggy.  Spengler and Stantz follow, monitoring PKE valences from\nthe pavement and the buildings.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Dana, nostalgic)\n\t\t\tBrings back a lot of sweet memories, doesn't\n\t\t\tit?\n\t\t\t\t (pointing out familiar\n\t\t\t\t neighborhood sights)\n\t\t\tThere's our old cash machine.  And the dry\n\t\t\tcleaners we used to go to.  And the old\n\t\t\tvideo store.\n\t\t\t\t (he wipes away an imaginary\n\t\t\t\t tear)\n\t\t\tWe really had some good times, didn't we?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tWe definitely had a moment or two.\n\nDana stops at the intersection and points to the middle of the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThat's where the buggy stopped.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, let's take a look.\n\nVenkman walks right out into the middle of the street, completely\noblivious to the CARS HONKING and whizzing past him and starts motioning\nlike a traffic cop, bringing traffic to a standstill.  Then he signals\nfor Dana, Stantz and Spengler to join him in the middle of the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reading the PKE meter)\n\t\t\tIs this the spot?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tA little to the left.  Right there!  That's\n\t\t\twhere it stopped.\n\nStantz reads the PKE meter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNothing.  Not a trace.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWhy don't we try the Giga-meter?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat's that?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tEgon and I have been working on a gauge to\n\t\t\tmeasure psychomagnetheric energy in GEVs -\n\t\t\tgiga electron volts.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tThat's a thousand million electron volts.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI knew that.\n\nSpengler switches on the Giga-meter, the device he was testing in the\nlab, and passes it over the spot on the street where the buggy stopped.\nThe indicator goes right into the red zone and the DEVICE starts CLICKING\n<b>WILDLY.\n</b>\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI think we hit the honeypot, boys.  There's\n\t\t\tsomething brewing under the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (worried, to Venkman)\n\t\t\tPeter, do you think maybe I have some genetic\n\t\t\tproblem or something that makes me vulnerable\n\t\t\tto these supernatural things.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou mean like the time you got possessed and\n\t\t\tturned into a monster terror dog?  No, not\n\t\t\ta chance.  Total coincidence.\n\t\t\t\t (to Stantz and Spengler)\n\t\t\tAm I right?\n\nStantz and Spengler look at him skeptically, not convinced by the\ncoincidence theory.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MANHATTAN MUSEUM OF ART - LATE AFTERNOON\n</b>\nThe museum has just closed for the day and the last of the visitors and\nemployees are leaving.\n\n<b>INT.  RESTORATION STUDIO - SAME TIME\n</b>\nJanosz is working late on the painting of Vigo.\n\n<b>VIGO PAINTING\n</b>\nUnnoticed by Janosz, the eyes of Vigo start to glow.\n\n<b>JANOSZ\n</b>\nHe touches his brush to the canvas and a powerful current of red,\ncrackling energy surges through the brush and courses through his body,\ndriving him to his knees.\n\n<b>PAINTING\n</b>\nThe figure of Vigo comes to life, turns toward Janosz and gestures\ndramatically at him.  Then he speaks to Janosz in a commanding voice.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tI, Vigo, the scourge of Carpathia, the\n\t\t\tsorrow of Moldavia, command you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (in agony)\n\t\t\tCommand me, lord.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tOn a mountain of skulls in a castle of pain,\n\t\t\tI sat on a throne of blood.  What was will\n\t\t\tbe, what is will be no more.  Now is the\n\t\t\tseason of evil.  Find me a child that I might\n\t\t\tlive again.\n\nBolts of red-hot energy shoot from the eyes of Vigo into Janosz's eyes.\nHe screams and falls to his knees.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. COFFEE SHOP - EAST 77TH STREET - NIGHT\n</b>\nVenkman and Stantz come out with small boxes containing coffee,\nsandwiches and Danish and start walking up the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI love this.  We're onto something really\n\t\t\tbig.  I can smell it, Ray.  We're going to\n\t\t\tmake some headlines with this one.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tHey, hey, hey, stresshound!  Are you nuts?\n\t\t\tIf anybody found out about this we'd be in\n\t\t\tserious trouble.  The judge couldn't have\n\t\t\tbeen clearer - no ghostbusting.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tRelax.  We're going to keep this whole thing\n\t\t\tnice and quiet, low key, no profile.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nSpengler, wearing a hardhat, is JACKHAMMERING a hole in the middle of the\nstreet.  Safety cones and reflectors have been set up and a small area is\nlit by strong work lights.\n\n<b>POLICE CAR\n</b>\nIt turns onto East 77th Street, cruises slowly up to the makeshift\nworksite and stops.  The noise of the JACKHAMMER is so loud, Spengler\ndoesn't notice the police car and the two COPS inside looking at them.\nFinally, he looks up, sees the police car and freezes.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRST COP\n</b>\t\t\tHow ya doing?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reeking with guilt)\n\t\t\tFine!  It's cutting fine now.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRST COP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (curious)\n\t\t\tWhy are you cutting?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (looking for one of the\n\t\t\t\t others)\n\t\t\tWhy are we cutting?  Uh - boss!\n\nVenkman and Stantz arrive just in time wearing Con Ed hardhats, doing a\ngood imitation of a Consolidated Edison repairman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRST COP\n</b>\t\t\tWhat are you doing here?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (belligerent)\n\t\t\tWhat the hell's it look like we're doing?\n\t\t\tWe're bustin out asses over here 'cause\n\t\t\tsome douchebag downtown ain't got nothin'\n\t\t\tbetter to do than make idiots like us work\n\t\t\tlate on a Friday night, right?\n\t\t\t\t (looks to Spengler for\n\t\t\t\t agreement)\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with a \"right on\" fist)\n\t\t\tYo.\n\nThe cops seem satisfied by the explanation.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRST COP\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, boys, take it easy.\n\nThey drive off.  Spengler breathes a great sigh of relief and starts\nrubbing his sore shoulders.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tYou were supposed to help me with this.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou need the exercise.\n\nStantz resumes JACKHAMMERING, while Venkman and Spengler clear the\nrubble from the hole.  Suddenly he hits metal.  They clear away\ngenerations of paving material revealing an ornate iron manhole cover.\nThe manhole cover bears a strange logo and the letters NYPRR.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (examing it)\n\t\t\tNYPRR.  What the hell -- ?  Help me lift\n\t\t\tthis.\n\nThey prey off the iron cover with crowbars, uncovering a very dark and\nvery deep abyss.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shining a flashlight into\n\t\t\t\t the hole)\n\t\t\tWow!  It's an old airshaft.  It just goes\n\t\t\tforever.\n\nSpengler leans in with the giga-meter which is reading even higher now.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tVery intense.  We need a deeper reading.\n\t\t\tSomebody has to go down there.\n\nVenkman and Spengler both look at Ray.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThanks, boys.\n\nThey snap Stantz into a harness and lower him into the hole on a strong\ncable attached to a winch.  Ray calls out orders to them as he descends\ndeeper and deeper.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\t\t (his voice echoing in the\n\t\t\t\t airshaft)\n\t\t\tKeep going -- more -- more --\n\n<b>INT.  HOLE - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nStantz rappels off the sides of the airshaft as he continues his descent\nin total darkness.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (using a radio now)\n\t\t\tLower -- lower --\n\t\t\t\t (to himself)\n\t\t\tGee, this really is deep.\n\nSuddenly, his feet kick thin air as he gets to the bottom of the airshaft\nand swings free in some kind of tunnel.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouts)\n\t\t\tHold it!  Steady!\n\nHe pulls a powerful flashlight from his utility belt and shines it into\nthe tunnel below.\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - STANTZ'S POV - NIGHT\n</b>\nHe is suspended near the top of a beautifully preserved chamber with\nrounded, polished tile walls ardorned with intricate, colorfully enameled\nArt Nouveau mosaics.  A finely inlaid sign identifies it as VAN HORNE\n<b>STATION.\n</b>\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe pans the walls with his flashlight, admiring the excellent tilework,\nand speaks quietly to Venkman and Spengler over his walkie-talkie.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reverently)\n\t\t\tThis is it, boys, the end of the line.  Van\n\t\t\tHorne Station.  The old New York Pneumatic.\n\t\t\tIt's still here.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - HOLE - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nVenkman has no idea what he's talking about.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (explaining)\n\t\t\tThe New York Pneumatic Railway.  It was an\n\t\t\texperimental subway system.  Fan-forced\n\t\t\tair-trains, built around 1870.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (over the walkie-talkie)\n\t\t\tThis is about as deep as you can go under\n\t\t\tManhattan without digging your own hole.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tWhat's the reading?\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nStantz shines his flashlight on the meter and whistles at the extremely\nhigh reading.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on the radio)\n\t\t\tOff the top of the scale.  This place is\n\t\t\treally hot.  Lower me to the floor.\n\nAs Venkman and Spengler feed him some more cable, he pans his flashlight\ndown the wall of the station, then onto the floor.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouts)\n\t\t\tHold it!!  Stop!!  Whoa!!\n\n<b>INT. VAN HORNE STATION - STANTZ'S POV - FLOOR - NIGHT\n</b>\nBelow him is a river of bubbling seething, glowing slime, a veritable\ntorrent of disgusting ooze.\n\nAs he stares into the foul effluent, we become aware of the strangely\namplified and magnified sounds of great ENGINES THROBBING and pulsing in\nthe bowels of the city, of WATER RUSHING through pipes, STEAM HISSING\nthrough ducts, the muffled RUMBLE of the SUBWAY and the ROAR of TRAFFIC,\nand mixed with it all, the unmistakable sounds of human conflict and pain\n-- VOICES SHOUTING in anger, SCREAMING in fear, GROANING in pain, a sad\nand eerie symphony.\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - STANTZ - NIGHT\n</b>\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (ranting on the radio)\n\t\t\tOh, my God!  It's a seething, bubbling,\n\t\t\tpsychic cess!  Interlocked tubes of plasm,\n\t\t\tcrackling with negative GEVs!  It's glowing\n\t\t\tand moving!  It's -- it's a river of slime!!\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe dangles from the end of the cable, holding his feet up as high as he\ncan.  He unhooks a device from his utility belt and pulls the trigger on\nit, shooting out a long telescoping fishing-pole with a scoop on the end.\nReaching down, he scoops up a sample of the slime and starts retracting\nthe pole.\n\n<b>SLIME\n</b>\nSuddenly, a grotesque arm with a long skeletal fingers reaches up out of\nthe slime and snatches at Stantz's dangling feet.  He jerks his legs up\nas several more arms poke up out of the slime and reach for him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on the radio)\n\t\t\tHaul me up, Venkman!  Now!\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - HOLE - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nVenkman and Spengler start hauling in the cable as a Con Ed Supervisor's\ncar drives up, and behind it, the same police car they saw earlier.  A\nburly SUPERVISOR gets out and crosses toward them, followed by the two\ncops.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSUPERVISOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (no nonsense)\n\t\t\tOkay, what's the story here?\n\nVenkman and Spengler stop pulling up the cable and Venkman tries the\nbelligerent worker ploy again, only this time he's wearing a Nynex\nhardhat.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat, I got time for this?  We got three\n\t\t\tthousand phones out in the Village and about\n\t\t\teight million miles of cable to check.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSUPERVISOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (not buying it)\n\t\t\tThe phone lines are over there.\n\t\t\t\t (points to the curb)\n\nVenkman pops Spengler on the head.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI told ya!\n\nStantz can be heard ranting over Venkman's walkie-talkie.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\t\t (filtered)\n\t\t\tHelp!  Help!  Pull me up!  It's alive!  It's\n\t\t\teating my boots.\n\nVenkman switches off the walkie-talkie.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRST COP\n</b>\t\t\tYou ain't with Con Ed or the phone company.\n\t\t\tWe checked.  Tell me another one.\n\nVenkman stares at the Cop for a long moment.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tGas leak?\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - SAME TIME\n</b>\nStantz is hanging there, looking down into the shaft at the slime which\nis now bubbling up the shaft after him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouting)\n\t\t\tGet me out of here!!\n\nDesperate now, he kicks wildly and knocks loose a section of an old,\nrusting conduit.\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - BOTTOM OF THE SHAFT\n</b>\nThe conduit falls on a heavy electrical transmission line, ripping\nthrough the cable with a SHOWER OF SPARKS.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - HOLE - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n</b>\nVenkman, Spengler, the cops and the supervisor all react to a bright\nFLASH deep down in the hole and a SHOUT from Stantz.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST 77TH STREET - STREET - NIGHT\n</b>\nOne by one, all the streetlights go out; then the lights on all the\nbuildings along East 77th street; then the whole neighborhood blacks\nout, and finally the entire city is plunged into darkness.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\tSorry.\n\n<b>INT. DANA BARRETT'S APARTMENT - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nShe walks around in the dark lighting candles and placing them all over\nthe living room.  Then she finds a transistor radio and turns it on for\ninformation about the blackout.  She listens to a special news report\nfor a moment, then has a compelling impulse to go check on the baby.\nShe crosses to the nursery carrying a candle and quietly opens the door\nand looks in.  Suddenly the DOORBELL RINGS, scaring her half to death.\nLeaving the chain on the door, she opens it a crack and sees Janosz\nstanding in the hall, eerily lit by a red emergency spot at the end of\nthe hallway.  He looks slightly dazed and even creepier.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (surprised)\n\t\t\tJanosz?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tHello, Dana.  I happened to be in the\n\t\t\tneighborhood and I thought I'd stop by to\n\t\t\tsee if everything's all right with you --\n\t\t\tyou know, with the blackout and everything?\n\t\t\tAre you okay?  Is the baby all right?\n\nHis affected concern is chilling.  She is frightened but conceals it\nfrom him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (mechanically and cautiously)\n\tWe're fine, Janosz.\n\nHe tires to look around her into the apartment.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tDo you need anything?  You want me to come\n\t\t\tin?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tNo, everything's fine.  Honestly.  Thanks\n\t\t\tanyway.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, just thought I'd check.  Good night,\n\t\t\tDana.  Sleep well.  Don't let the bedbugs\n\t\t\tbite you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tGood night, Janosz.\n\nShe closes the door behind him and double locks it, then stands there\nstaring into the candlelight, alone and afraid.\n\n<b>INT.  HALLWAY OF DANA'S BUILDING - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nJanosz stands there in semi-darkness, then his eyes light up like\nheadlights and he walks off down the hall.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - WITNESS STAND - NEXT DAY\n</b>\nThe JUDGE, a rather sour-looking jurist of the old school, calls the\ncourt to order.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tI want to make one thing very clear before\n\t\t\twe go any further.  The law does not recognize\n\t\t\tthe existence of ghosts, and I don't believe\n\t\t\tin them either, so I don't want to hear a\n\t\t\tlot of malarkey about goblins and spooks and\n\t\t\tdemons.  We're going to stick to the facts\n\t\t\tin this case and save the ghost stories for\n\t\t\tthe kiddies.  Understood?\n\n<b>DEFENSE TABLE\n</b>\nStantz leans over and whispers to Spengler.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tSeems like a pretty open-minded guy, huh?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tHis nickname is \"The Hammer.\"\n\nStantz and Spengler are seated with their attorney LOUIS TULLY, lawyer,\nCPA and former demonic possession victim.  Louis is desperately paging\nthrough a mountain of legal textbooks.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (nervous)\n\t\t\tI think you're making a big mistake here,\n\t\t\tfellas.  I do mostly tax law and some probate\n\t\t\tstuff occasionally.  I got my law degree at\n\t\t\tnight school.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThat's all right.  We got arrested at night.\n\n<b>SPECTATORS' GALLERY\n</b>\nVenkman is talking to Dana at the wooden rail in front of the gallery.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI wish I could stay.  I feel personally\n\t\t\tresponsible for you being here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou are personally responsible.  If I can\n\t\t\tget conjugal rights, will you visit me at\n\t\t\tSing Sing?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tPlease don't say that.  You won't go to prison.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDon't worry about me.  I'm like a cat.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tYou mean you cough up hairballs all over\n\t\t\tthe rug?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm El Gato.  I always land on my feet.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (sincerely)\n\t\t\tGood luck.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThanks.\n\nShe gives him a quick, unexpected kiss and exits.  Venkman savors it for\na moment then goes back to the defense table.\n\n<b>PROSECUTION TABLE\n</b>\nJack Hardemeyer, the mayor's principal aide, is goading the PROSECUTOR,\na very sober, humorless woman in her late thirties.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tHow are you doing, hon?  Just put these guys\n\t\t\taway fast and make sure they go away for a\n\t\t\tlong, long time.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tIt shouldn't be hard with this list of charges.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tGood.  Very good.  The mayor and future\n\t\t\tgovernor won't forget this.\n\nHe smiles conspiratorially and makes a point of passing the defense table\non his way out of the courtroom.\n\n<b>DEFENSE TABLE\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters look up as Hardemeyer approaches.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (gloating)\n\t\t\tNice going, Venkman.  Violating a judicial\n\t\t\trestraining order, willful destruction of\n\t\t\tpublic property, fraud, malicious mischief\n\t\t\t-- smooth move.  See you in a couple years\n\t\t\t-- at your first parole hearing.\n\nHerdemeyer exits.  Louis looks devastated.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tGee, the whole city's against us.  I think\n\t\t\tI'm going to be sick.\n\nSpengler hands him a waste basket as the Prosecutor calls her first\nwitness.\n\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - WITNESS STAND - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThe Con Ed Supervisor is testifying.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tMr. Fianella, please look at Exhibits A\n\t\t\tthrough F on the table over there.  Do you\n\t\t\trecognize that equipment?\n\n<b>EXHIBIT TABLE\n</b>\nLying on the table are the basic tools of the Ghostbusting trade: three\nproton packs and particle throwers, a couple of ghost traps, and various\nmeters and detection devices.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCON ED\n</b>\t\t\t\t (o.c.)\n\t\t\tThat's the stuff the cops found in their\n\t\t\ttruck.\n\n<b>WITNESS STAND\n</b>\nShe continues.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tDo you know what this equipment is used for?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCON ED\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shrugs)\n\t\t\tI don't know.  Catching ghosts, I guess.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Judge)\n\t\t\tMay I remind the court that the defendants\n\t\t\tare under a judicial restraining order that\n\t\t\tspecifically forbids them from performing\n\t\t\tservices as paranormal investigators and\n\t\t\teliminators.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tSo noted.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tNow, Mr. Fianella, can you identify the\n\t\t\tsubstance in the jar on the table marked\n\t\t\tExhibit F?\n\n<b>PROSECUTOR\n</b>\nShe goes to the exhibit table and picks up a specimen jar containing the\nslime sample Stantz removed from the tunnel.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCON ED\n</b>\t\t\tI been working underground for Con Ed for\n\t\t\t27 years and I never saw anything like that\n\t\t\tin my life.  We checked out that tunnel the\n\t\t\tnext day and we didn't find nothing.  If it\n\t\t\twas down there, they must have put it there.\n\n<b>DEFENSE TABLE\n</b>\nVenkman and Spengler look at Stantz.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (defensively)\n\t\t\tHey, I didn't imagine it.  There must have\n\t\t\tbeen ten thousand gallons of it down there.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tIt may be ebbing and flowing from some tidal\n\t\t\tsource.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (nervously)\n\t\t\tShould I say that?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI doubt that they'd believe us.\n\nLouis moans and goes back to his notes.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t WIPE TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - WITNESS STAND - LATER\n</b>\nVenkman himself is on the stand and Louis is questioning him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tSo like you were just trying to help out\n\t\t\tyour old friend because she was scared and\n\t\t\tyou didn't really mean to do anything bad\n\t\t\tand you really love the city and won't ever\n\t\t\tdo anything like this again, right?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tObjection, your Honor.  He's leading the\n\t\t\twitness.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tThe witness is leading him.  Sustained.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, let me rephrase that question.\n\t\t\t\t (to venkman)\n\t\t\tDidn't you once coach a basketball team for\n\t\t\tunderprivileged children?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYes, I did.  We were city champs.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tObjection.  Irrelevant and immaterial.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tSustained.  Mr. Tully, do you have anything\n\t\t\tto ask this witness that may have some\n\t\t\tbearing on this case?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Venkman)\n\t\t\tDo I?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I think you've helped them enough already.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Judge)\n\t\t\tNo, I guess not.\n\t\t\t\t (to the Prosecutor)\n\t\t\tYour witness.\n\nThe Prosecutor rises and approaches the witness stand with relish.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tSo, Dr. Venkman, please explain to the court\n\t\t\twhy it is you and your co-defendants took it\n\t\t\tupon yourselves to dig a big hole in the\n\t\t\tmiddle of the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSeventy-seventh and First Avenue has so many\n\t\t\tholes already we didn't think anyone would\n\t\t\tnotice.\n\nThe gallery laughs and the Judge gavels for order.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tKeep that up, mister, and I'll find you in\n\t\t\tcontempt.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSorry, your Honor, but when somebody sets\n\t\t\tme up like that I can't resist.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tI'll ask you again, Dr. Venkman.  Why were\n\t\t\tyou digging the hole?  And please remember\n\t\t\tthat you're under oath.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI had my fingers crossed when they swore me\n\t\t\tin, but I'm going to tell you the truth.\n\t\t\tThere are things in this world that go way\n\t\t\tbeyond human understanding, things that\n\t\t\tcan't be explained and that most people don't\n\t\t\twant to know about anyway.  That's where we\n\t\t\tcome in.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPROSECUTOR\n</b>\t\t\tSo what are you saying?  That the world of\n\t\t\tthe supernatural is your special province?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I guess I'm just saying that shit happens\n\t\t\tand somebody has to deal with it.\n\nThe spectators in the gallery cheer and the judge gavels for order.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t WIPE TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - LATER\n</b>\nThe trial is nearing its end.  The Judge calls on Louis to make his\nsummation.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tDoes the counsel for the defense wish to\n\t\t\tmake any final arguements?\n\nLouis rises.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tYour honor, may I approach the bench?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (impatient)\n\t\t\tYes.\n\nLouis crosses to the judge's bench.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the judge)\n\t\t\tCan I have some of your water?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tGet on with it, counselor!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (scared)\n\t\t\tYour honor, ladies and gentlemen of the --\n\t\t\t\t (he remembers there's no\n\t\t\t\t jury)\n\t\t\taudience.  I don't think it's fair to call\n\t\t\tmy clients frauds.  Okay, the blackout was\n\t\t\ta big problem for everybody.  I was stuck in\n\t\t\tan elevator for about three hours and I had\n\t\t\tto go to the bathroom the whole time, but I\n\t\t\tdon't blame them because once I turned into\n\t\t\ta dog and they helped me.  Thank you.\n\nHe goes back to the defense table and sits down.  Stantz and Spengler\nhang their heads.  Venkman pats Louis on the back.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Louis)\n\t\t\tWay to go.  Concise and to the point.\n\n<b>JUDGE\n</b>\nHe stares at Louis, astonished at his summation.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tThat's it?  That's all you have to say?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tDid I forget something?\n\nHe searches through a disorderly pile of notes.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tThat was unquestionably the worst\n\t\t\tpresentation of a case I've ever heard in a\n\t\t\tcourt of law!  I ought to cite you for\n\t\t\tcontempt and have you disbarred.  As for\n\t\t\tyour clients, Peter Venkman, Raymond Stantz\n\t\t\tand Egon Spengler, on the charges of\n\t\t\tconspiracy, fraud and the willful destruction\n\t\t\tof public property, I find you guilty on all\n\t\t\tcounts.  I order you to pay fines in the\n\t\t\tamount of $25,000 each and I sentence you to\n\t\t\teighteen months in the city correctional\n\t\t\tfacility at Ryker's Island.\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe sees the activity in the jar\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tUh-oh, she's twitchin'.\n\n<b>THE BENCH\n</b>\nThe Judge continues\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tAnd on a more personal note, let me go on\n\t\t\trecord as saying that there is no place in\n\t\t\tdecent society for fakes, charlatans and\n\t\t\ttricksters like you who prey on the\n\t\t\tgullibility of innocent people.  You're\n\t\t\tbeneath the contempt of this court.  And\n\t\t\tbelieve me, if my hands were not tied by the\n\t\t\tunalterable fetters of the law, a law which\n\t\t\thas become in my view far too permissive and\n\t\t\tinadequate in it's standards of punishment,\n\t\t\tI would invoke the tradition of our\n\t\t\tillustrious forebearers, reach back to a\n\t\t\tsterner, purer justice and have you burned\n\t\t\tat the stake!\n\nHe hammers the bench with his gravel as the gallery erupts noisily.  Then\nhe feels a LOW RUMBLING TREMOR in the courtroom.\n\n<b>SPECIMEN JAR\n</b>\nThe slime starts to pulse and swell, pushing up the lid on the jar.\n\n<b>DEFENSE TABLE\n</b>\nStantz anticipates big trouble.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tUnder the table, boys!\n\nThe Ghostbusters duck under the defense table.\n\n<b>LOUIS\n</b>\nHe stands up and looks around fearfully.\n\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - GHOST BATTLE - DAY\n</b>\nEverybody is silent now as the rumbling increases.  All eyes turn to the\nexhibit table.  Then suddenly all Hell breaks loose as TWO FULL-TORSO\nAPPARITIONS explode out of the specimen jar.\n\n<b>JUDGE\n</b>\nHe looks up in terror at the two huge apparitions looming above him and\nrecognizes them immediately.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (in horror)\n\t\t\tOh, my God!  The Scoleri Brothers!\n\n<b>SCOLERI BROTHERS\n</b>\nBig in life, even bigger in death, the ghostly Scoleri brothers seem ten\nfeet tall.  They are strapped into electric chairs and on their heads are\nmetal electrocution caps with live, sparking electrical wires still\nattached.  Twenty-five hundred volts of electricity shoot through their\nbodies as they start to break free of the leather restraints, trying to\nget at the Judge.\n\n<b>JUDGE\n</b>\nHolding his gavel like a pitiful weapon, he crawls over to the defense\ntable where Venkman, Stantz and Spengler are now crouched, assessing the\nspectral intruders.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (terrified)\n\t\t\tYou've got to do something!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWho are they?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tThey're the Scoleri Brothers.  I tried them\n\t\t\tfor murder.  They were electrocuted up at\n\t\t\tOssining in '48.  Now they want to kill me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tMaybe they just want to appeal.\n\n<b>SCOLERI BROTHERS\n</b>\nThey break loose from the electric chairs, then turn toward the defense\ntable and BLAST it with HIGH-VOLTAGE FINGER-LIGHTNING.\n\n<b>PROSECUTOR\n</b>\nShe sprints for the door, pursued by one of the Scoleri brothers.\n\n<b>GHOSTBUSTERS\n</b>\nThey jump to safety behind the rail of the jury box, pulling the Judge\nwith them.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThese boys aren't playing around.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (desperately)\n\t\t\tYou've got to stop them.  Please!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (thinking like a lawyer)\n\t\t\tViolating a judicial restraining order could\n\t\t\texpose my clients to serious criminal\n\t\t\tpenalties.  As their attorney I'd have to\n\t\t\tadvise them against it.\n\n<b>SCOLERI BROTHERS\n</b>\nThey start punching through the jury box.\n\n<b>JUDGE\n</b>\nHe is just about hysterical with fear.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJUDGE\n</b>\t\t\tAll right!  All right!  I'm recinding the\n\t\t\torder.  Case dismissed!!\n\t\t\t\t (he pounds his gavel on\n\t\t\t\t the floor)\n\t\t\tNow do something!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tLet's go to work, boys.\n\nWith that, the Ghostbusters leap over the rail of the jury box and dash\nacross the courtroom to the exhibit table where their proton packs were\nbeing displayed as evidence.  They strap them on hastily as the Brothers\ncontinue tearing up the seats looing for the Judge.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (slinging the pack onto\n\t\t\t\t his back)\n\t\t\tGeez, I forgot how heavy these things are.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (grabbing other gear)\n\t\t\tOkay, let's heat 'em up!\n\nThey flip the power switches on their packs and draw their particle\nthrowers.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tAll right, throwers.  Set for full neutronas\n\t\t\ton stream.\n\nThey switch on their throwers and turn to face the raging phantasms.\n\n<b>SCOLERI BROTHERS\n</b>\nThey are just about to wipe out the Judge when a loud shout distracts\nthem.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHey!  Why don't you pick on someone your own\n\t\t\tsize?\n\nThe towering ghosts turn in a fury and raise their arms, ready to shoot\nlightning at their new adversaries.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the others)\n\t\t\tOn my signal, boys.  Open 'em up -- Now!\n\nThey all pull their triggers and the wands EXPLODE with incredible\npowerful STREAMS OF ENERGY, doing even more damage to the courtroom.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSpengs, take the door.  Ray, let's try and\n\t\t\twork them down and into the corner.\n\nWorking as a team, they gradually confine the Scoleri Brothers with the\nstreams, forcing them closer and closer to the traps Ray has set out on\nthe floor.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWatch it!  I'm coming under you, Pete.\n\nThey circle around the two ghosts, prodding them with the streams while\nducking the lightning bolts shooting from their fingers.  Finally, Ray\nsees his chance and pops open the traps which emit inverted pyramids of\nlight energy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tSteady -- watch your streams -- easy now --\n\t\t\tVenky, bring him left -- Spengy, pull him\n\t\t\tdown -- trapping -- trapping -- now!\n\nHe stomps on a control pedal and the Scoleri Brothers are drawn into the\ntraps which snap shut.\n\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - TRAPS - DAY\n</b>\nLEDs on the outer casing start flashing, indicating the presence of a\nghost inside each trap.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (checking the trap)\n\t\t\tOccupado.\n\n<b>INT.  COURTROOM - JUDGE - DAY (AFTER GHOST BATTLE)\n</b>\nHe sticks his head up slowly from behind the debris of his bench and\nlooks around in total amazement.\n\n<b>LOUIS\n</b>\nHe crawls out from under a chair.  Reporters and spectators get back on\ntheir feet and start buzzing about the incredible manifestation.\n\n<b>PROSECUTOR\n</b>\nShe's lying on the floor, attended to by the Bailiff and the Court Clerk.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Prosecutor)\n\t\t\tBrilliant summation.\n\n<b>GHOSTBUSTERS\n</b>\nThey break into big smiles as photographers start snapping pictures of\nthem standing in the wrecked courtroom.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tCase closed, boys.  We're back in business.\n\nThe spectators cheer and applaud.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  FIREHOUSE - DAY\n</b>\nThe old, dilapidated Ghostbusters logo comes crashing to the ground,\ndropped by a pair of workmen on a ladder, and the new logo is hoisted\ninto place over the main entrance.  It's just like the original \"No\nGhosts\" logo, but in the new one the ghost in the red circle is holding\nup two fingers.  Venkman enters the firehouse.\n\n<b>INT.  BEDROOM SET (TV COMMERCIAL - FULL SCREEN VIDEO) - NIGHT\n</b>\nA man and his wife are lying in bed reading.  The man is played by Louis\nTully and JANINE MELNITZ, the Ghostbusters' once and future receptionist,\nis playing his wife.  They are both terrible actors.  Suddenly, a ghost,\nactually a very bad puppet on a wire, floats through the bedroom.  Janine\nsees it and screams.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tWhat is it, honey?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tIt's that darn ghost again!  I don't know\n\t\t\twhat to do anymore.  He just won't leave us\n\t\t\talone.  I guess we'll just have to move.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tDon't worry.  We're not moving.  He is.\n\nHe picks up the phone.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tWho are you going to call?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with a wink)\n\t\t\tGhostbusters.\n\nAs he starts to dial, the CAMERA PULLS BACK to reveal the Ghostbusters\nstanding in the bedroom.  Their acting isn't much better than Louis and\nJanine's.\n\n<b>GHOSTBUSTERS\n</b>\nStantz speaks directly TO the CAMERA.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI'm Ray --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm Peter --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tI'm Egon --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tAnd we're the ...\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tALL\n</b>\t\t\t\t (together)\n\t\t\tGhostbusters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThat's right -- Ghostbusters.  We're back\n\t\t\tand we're better than ever with twice the\n\t\t\tknow-how and twice the particle-power to\n\t\t\tdeal with all your supernatural elimination\n\t\t\tneeds.\n\nDuring his speech, Winston can be seen in the b.g. pretending to trap the\nfake ghost.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tCareful, Winston.  He's a mean one.\n<b>\t\t\t\t (TO CAMERA)\n</b>\t\t\tAnd to celebrate our grand reopening, we're\n\t\t\tgiving you twice the value with our special\n\t\t\thalf-price 'Welcome Back' service plan.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHold on, Ray!  Half-price!  Have you gone\n\t\t\tcrazy?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI guess so, Pete, because that's not all.\n\t\t\tTell them what else we've got, Egon.\n\nSpengler actually mouths everyone else's dialogue along with them,\nwaiting for his cue.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tYou mean the Ghostbusters hot beverage\n\t\t\tthermal mugs and free balloons for the kids?\n\nHe holds up a mug and a limp, uninflated balloon.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou bet.\n\nAs Stantz wraps it up, SUPERS APPEAR at the bottom of the SCREEN: FULLY\n<b>BONDED - FULLY LICENSED - SE HABLA ESPANOL.\n</b>\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b><b>\t\t\t\t (TO CAMERA)\n</b>\t\t\tSo don't wait another minute.  Make your\n\t\t\tsupernatural problem our supernatural problem.\n\t\t\tCall now, because we're still --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tALL\n</b>\t\t\t\t (in unison, mechanically)\n\t\t\t-- Ready to believe you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  JACK HARDEMEYER'S OFFICE - DAY\n</b>\nHardemeyer is watching the Ghostbusters commercial on a TV in his office.\nHe bangs his fist on his desk and angrily switches OFF the TV.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  FIREHOUSE - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThe garage door opens and the new improved ECTOMOBILE comes ROARING out\nonto the street, its ghostly SIREN MOANING and WAILING.  Louis comes\nrunning out after it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - DAY\n</b>\nLouis comes back into the garage bay and stops as he smells a foul odor.\nHe sniffs around, following the smell.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh, geez, smells like somebody took a really\n\t\t\tbig --\n\nHe freezes.\n\n<b>INT. OFFICE AREA - LOUIS'S POV\n</b>\nSlimer, a spud-like green ghost, is hovering over Louis's desk, scarfing\ndown Louis's bag lunch.  Slimer looks up and sees Louis.\n\n<b>SLIMER AND LOUIS\n</b>\nThey both scream and run off in opposite directions.\n\n<b>SLIMER\n</b>\nHe passes right through a wall and disappears.\n\n<b>LOUIS\n</b>\nHe runs right into a wall, recovers and exits in a hurry.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (screaming)\n\t\t\tHelp!  There's a thing!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  CENTRAL PARK RESERVOIR - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nRunners of both sexes and all ages are huffing and puffing as they jog\nalong the track that circles the reservoir.  One of the runners looks\nbehind him at the sound of APPROACHING FOOTFALLS and screams.\n\n<b>GHOSTLY JOGGER\n</b>\nA ghost jogger is loping along at a pretty fair pace.  Other runners\nstumble and run screaming into the park as he passes them.  Seemingly\noblivious to the effect he's having, the ghost jogger puts two fingers to\nhis skeletal neck and checks his watch as if taking his pulse.\n\n<b>EXT. CLEARING IN PARK - DAY (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nVenkman is sitting on a park bench near the jogging track reading the\nnewspaper, eating a donut and drinking coffee from a Styrofoam cup.\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe's sitting on a bench opposite Venkman's, casually watching the jogging\ntrack.\n\n<b>GHOST JOGGER\n</b>\nHe approaches the benches where the Ghostbusters are waiting.  As the\nghost jogger passes the benches, Stantz and Venkman simultaneously hit\nconcealed control buttons.  A ghost trap buried in the track throws up a\nglowing inverted pyramid and catches the ghost jogger in mid-stride.\nStantz and Venkman close the trap and capture the ghost jogger.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (checking his watch)\n\t\t\tYou know he ran that last lap in under six\n\t\t\tminutes?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIf he wasn't dead he'd be an Olympic\n\t\t\tprospect.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  JEWELRY STORE - DAY\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters come out carrying smoking traps, wearing cheap\ndime-store Santa Claus hats.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the client)\n\t\t\tMerry Christmas!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  FIFTH AVENUE - ORREFORS GLASS STORE - DAY\n</b>\nThe Ectomobile is parked at the curb and a curious crowd looks on as the\nGhostbusters enter the store.\n\n<b>INT.  ORREFORS GLASS STORE - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n</b>\nAll the precious crystal is floating in the air, several feet above the\nglass shelves and display tables.  Stantz and Venkman are talking to the\nmanager while Winston and Spengler set up an array of electronic devices\npositioned in each corner of the store.\n\nOn a signal from Stantz, Spengler and Winston switch on the devices which\nthrow laser-type beams around the perimeter of the store.  The manager\nwatches in horror as all the GLASSWARE suddenly drops out of the air,\nSMASHES through the GLASS SHELVES and SHATTERS on the display tables.\nThere is a long pregnant pause.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the manager)\n\t\t\tSo will that be cash or a check?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - RESTORATION STUDIO - DAY (LATE AFTERNOON)\n</b>\nEveryone else has gone home.  Dana is cleaning her brushes and putting\nher supplies away.\n\n<b>VIGO PAINTING - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n</b>\nVigo turns his head and watches Dana as she walks past the painting.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe stops, vaguely aware of the movement, and looks up curiously at the\npainting.  As she starts to walk on, Vigo looks at her again, but Dana\nturns suddenly and catches the movement.  Frightened now, she hastily\nleaves the studio.\n\n<b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - DAY\n</b>\nLouis is lurking behind a pillar, peeking out at the office area.  We PAN\nDOWN TO the floor and see a foot pedal, then PAN ALONG the cord TO a\nghost trap sitting on Louis's desk.  Hanging from strings over the desk\nare several pieces of Kentucky fried chicken.\n\n<b>WALL\n</b>\nSlimer partially emerges and furtively sniffs the air, then spots the\nchicken bait.  He licks his lips, materializes completely and flies to\nthe chicken.\n\n<b>LOUIS\n</b>\nHis eyes light up and he stomps the foot pedal.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouts)\n\t\t\tGotcha!\n\n<b>DESK\n</b>\nThe trap pops open and shoots out a powerful cone of energy.  Slimer\ndodges it and escapes as a big section of the ceiling comes crashing down\non Louis's desk.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (seeing the damage)\n\t\t\tUh-oh.\n\nHe slinks off, defeated.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MANHATTAN MUSEUM OF ART - SECURITY DESK - DAY\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters commercial is playing on a portable TV on the security\ndesk.  Rudy, the Security Guard, is reading a National Enquirer with a\ngiant front-page headline: GHOSTBUSTERS SAVE JUDGE.  Venkman enters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm looking for Dana Barrett.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSECURITY GUARD\n</b>\t\t\tRoom 304 -- Restorations.\n\t\t\t\t (recognizing him)\n\t\t\tHey!  Dr. Venkman -- 'World of the Psychic.'\n\t\t\tI'm a big, big fan.  That used to be one of\n\t\t\tmy two favorite shows.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (flattered)\n\t\t\tThanks.  What's the other one?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSECURITY GUARD\n</b>\t\t\t'Bass Masters.'  It's a fishing show.  Ever\n\t\t\tsee it?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, really great.  Take it easy.\n\nHe exits.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - RESTORATION STUDIO - DAY (MOMENTS LATER)\n</b>\nDana is working on a valuable Flemish still-life by Ver Meer.  Janosz is\nat the other end of the room, still working on the painting of Vigo.\nVenkman enters and sneaks up behind Dana.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (looking at the Ver Meer)\n\t\t\tSo this is what you do, huh?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (glad to see him)\n\t\t\tOh, hello, Peter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou're really good, you know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI didn't paint it.  I'm just cleaning it.\n\t\t\tIt's an original Ver Meer.  It's worth about\n\t\t\tten million dollars.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nHe turns his head and watches Venkman and Dana.\n\n<b>VENKMAN\n</b>\nUnaware that he's being watched, Venkman squints at the still life,\nholding up his thumb like he's seen artists do.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou know you can go to Art World and get\n\t\t\tthese huge sofa-size paintings for about\n\t\t\tforty-five bucks.\n\nHe starts looking around at the other artwork in the studio.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI'm sure you didn't come here just to talk\n\t\t\tabout art.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAs a matter of fact, I stopped by to tell\n\t\t\tyou that I haven't forgotten your problem\n\t\t\tand that we're still on the case.\n\nThey are interrupted by the sudden appearance of Janosz.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (smiling at Venkman)\n\t\t\tDana, aren't you going to introduce me to\n\t\t\tyour friend?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tOh, I'm sorry.  This is Peter Venkman.\n\t\t\tPeter, Janosz Poha.\n\nVenkman warily shakes his hand, trying to size him up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (avoiding his gaze)\n\t\t\tPleasure to meet you.  I've seen you on\n\t\t\ttelevision.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHow are you?\n\t\t\t\t (looking over at the Vigo\n\t\t\t\t painting)\n\t\t\tWhat's that you're working on, Johnny?\n\nJanosz winces at the nickname but lets it go.  Venkman and Dana cross to\nthe Vigo painting.  Janosz steps protectively in front of it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt's a painting I'm restoring for the new\n\t\t\tByzantine exhibition.  It's a self-portrait\n\t\t\tof Prince Vigo, the Carpathian.  He ruled\n\t\t\tmost of Carpathia and Moldavia in the 17th\n\t\t\tCentury.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (staring at the painting)\n\t\t\tToo bad for the Moldavians.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (defensive)\n\n\t\t\tHe was a very powerful magician.  A genius\n\t\t\tin many ways and quite a skilled painter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHe was also a lunatic and a genocidal madman.\n\t\t\tI hate this painting.  I've felt very\n\t\t\tuncomfortable since they brought it up from\n\t\t\tstorage.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, it's not the kind of thing you'd want\n\t\t\tto hang in the rec room.  You know what it\n\t\t\tneeds?\n\t\t\t\t (picking up a brush)\n\t\t\tA fluffy little white kitten in the corner.\n\nVenkman reaches toward the painting, but Janosz grabs his hand.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with forced good will)\n\t\t\tWe don't go around altering valuable\n\t\t\tpaintings, Dr. Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWell, I'd make an exception in this case if\n\t\t\tI were you.\n\nDana looks disapprovingly at Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Janosz)\n\t\t\tI'll let you get back to it.  Nice meeting\n\t\t\tyou.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tMy pleasure.\n\nVenkman and Dana cross back to her workspace.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (confidentially)\n\t\t\tI may be wrong, but I think you've got a\n\t\t\tlittle crush on this guy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tGood-bye, Peter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (dragging his feet)\n\t\t\tI'd like to stay, but I really don't have\n\t\t\ttime to hang around here.  I'll call you.\n\t\t\t\t (calls out to Janosz)\n\t\t\tLater, Johnny!\n\nHe exits.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nVigo turns his head and follows Dana as she returns to her workbench.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe stops, vaguely aware of the movement, and looks up curiously at the\npainting.  As she starts to walk on, Vigo looks at her again, but Dana\nturns suddenly and catches the movement.  Frightened now, she hastily\nleaves the studio.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - LIVING QUARTERS - CONTINUOUS ACTION - DAY\n</b>\nVenkman and Winston enter and find Stantz and Spengler at work in the lab\narea.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOh good, you're here.  Spengler and I have\n\t\t\tsomething really amazing to show you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Spengler)\n\t\t\tIt's not that thing you do with your\n\t\t\tnostrils, is it?\n\nStantz goes to the refrigerator, opens the freezer, rummages around among\nthe TV dinners and frozen pizza and pulls out a slime specimen in a\nTupperware container.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Venkman)\n\t\t\tWe've been studying the stuff that we took\n\t\t\tfrom the subway tunnel.\n\nHe pops the specimen jar in the microwave and lets it thaw for a minute.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAnd now you're going to eat it?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I'm just restoring it to its normal state.\n\nHe takes the specimen out of the microwave and pours some of it into a\nlarge Petri dish.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNow watch this.\n\nHe leans over the specimen and starts shouting at it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (simulating anger)\n\t\t\tYou worthless piece of slime!!\n\t\t\t\t (as the slime starts to\n\t\t\t\t twitch and glow)\n\t\t\tYou ignorant disgusting blob!!\n\n<b>SPECIMEN\n</b>\nIt bubbles and swells, changing color with each insult.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou foul, obnoxious muck!!\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe continues venting his rage on the slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI've seen some real crud in my time, but\n\t\t\tyou're a chemical disgrace!!\n\nThe specimen doubles its size and starts spilling over the rim of the\nPetri dish.\n\n<b>STANTZ AND SPENGLER\n</b>\nThey turn to Venkman for his reaction.  He's dumbfounded.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThis is what you do with your spare time?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (very excited)\n\t\t\tThis is an incredible breakthrough, Venkman.\n\t\t\tA psychoreactive substance!  Whatever this\n\t\t\tis, it clearly responds to human emotional\n\t\t\tstates.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t'Mood slime.'  We ought to bottle this stuff\n\t\t\tand sell it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWe've found it at every event site we've\n\t\t\tbeen to lately.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (poking at the slime)\n\t\t\tYou mean this stuff actually feeds on 'bad\n\t\t\tvibes'?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tLike a goat on garbage.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWe're running tests to see if we can get an\n\t\t\tequally strong positive reaction.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat kind of tests?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (a little embarrassed)\n\t\t\tWell, we sing to it, we talk to it, we say\n\t\t\tsupportive, nurturing things --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou're not sleeping with this stuff, are you?\n\nSpengler reacts as if he might be.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt really responds to music.\n\t\t\t\t (to Spengler)\n\t\t\tLet's calm it down.\n\nSpengler picks up a guitar and he and Stantz start singing \"Cumbaya\" to\nthe slime specimen.\n\n<b>SPECIMEN\n</b>\nIt stops bubbling and starts to shrink.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tDoes it have any favorites?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt likes all the sappy stuff: 'Cumbaya,'\n\t\t\t'Everything is Beautiful,' 'It's a Small\n\t\t\tWorld' -- but it loves Jackie Wilson.\n\nVenkman and Winston watch intently as Spengler spoons some of the\npsych-reactive slime onto an old toaster.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWatch this.\n\nStantz turns on a CASSETTE PLAYER and Jackie Wilson's \"HIGHER AND HIGHER\"\nBLASTS from the speakers.\n\n<b>TOASTER\n</b>\nIt shakes, spins and actually starts moving in time with the MUSIC.\n\n<b>VENKMAN\n</b>\nHe stares in disbelief at the dancing toaster as it shoots two pieces of\ntoast into the air and catches them without missing a beat.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI don't care what you say.  This could be a\n\t\t\tmajor Christmas gift item.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tRight, and the first time someone gets mad,\n\t\t\ttheir toaster will eat their hand.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo we'll put a warning on the label.\n\nStantz turns OFF the MUSIC and the toaster stops moving.  Venkman looks\nat the toaster and sticks his fingers in the slot.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the toaster)\n\t\t\tGo ahead.  I dare you.\n\nSuddenly, he yelps as if the toaster has actually bitten into his hand\nand won't let go.  The others jump in to help him, but Venkman laughs and\neasily withdraws his hand.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tJust kidding.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  DANA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT\n</b>\nDana brings Oscar into the bathroom and lays him on the bassinet.  She's\nwearing a robe over her nightgown, preparing to bathe the baby.  She\nturns the taps on the old claw-footed bathtub, checks the water\ntemperature, then turns away and starts to undress the baby.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (talking sweetly to the\n\t\t\t\t baby)\n\t\t\tLook at you.  I think we got more food on\n\t\t\tyour shirt than we got in your mouth.\n\n<b>BATHTUB\n</b>\nThe water pouring from the faucet changes to slime and settles at the\nbottom of the tub.  Dana reaches over and turns off the water without\nlooking into the tub.  When she turns away, both taps start to spin by\nthemselves and the tub flexes and bulges.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nStill unaware, she routinely reaches over and squirts some bubble bath\ninto the tub.\n\n<b>BATHTUB\n</b>\nThe rim of the tub puckers up and the sides convulse as if swallowing the\nbubble bath.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>She picks the baby up off the bassinet and turns to place him in the tub.\nShe is just about to lower him into the water when the tub starts to\nclose up around the baby like a hugh mouth.  Dana screams, snatches the\nbaby away and runs from the room clutching Oscar to her bosom as the\nbathtub convulses and vomits up buckets of slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - SAME NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nThe big open loft space is a chaotic clutter of mismatched furniture, old\nmagazines, books, tapes, and sports equipment.  Venkman is asleep on the\nfloor, still wearing his coat, scarf, hat and gloves, having collapsed\njust short of the bedroom.  The DOORBELL RINGS, he wakes up, lumbers to\nhis feet and answers it.  He opens the door and sees Dana standing there.\nShe is wearing only a nightgown under her coat and Oscar is naked,\nwrapped in a baby blanket.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (somewhat embarrassed to\n\t\t\t\t be there)\n\t\t\tI'm sorry.  Were you on your way out?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (surprised to see her)\n\t\t\tNo, I just got in -- a couple hours ago.\n\t\t\tCome on in.\n\t\t\t\t (noting her apparel)\n\t\t\tAre we having a pajama party?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (upset)\n\t\t\tPeter, the bathtub tried to eat Oscar.\n\nVenkman looks at her for a long moment.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou know, if anyone else told me that, I'd\n\t\t\thave serious doubts.  But coming from you,\n\t\t\tI can't honestly say I'm surprised.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI must be losing my mind.  At the museum\n\t\t\ttoday I could have sworn that terrible\n\t\t\tpainting of Vigo looked right at me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWho could blame him?  Were you wearing this\n\t\t\tnightgown?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (distraught)\n\t\t\tI don't know what to do anymore.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'll get Ray and Egon to check out the\n\t\t\tbathtub.  You better stay here.\n\nHe exits to the bathroom.  She looks around the loft, amazed at the\ndisorder.  Venkman comes back immediately with an old sweatshirt and\ntakes Oscar from her.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNow this kid has a serious nudity problem.\n\nHe spreads the sweatshirt out on the sofa, lays the baby on it and starts\ntying it around him like a diaper.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the baby)\n\t\t\tThis is Joe Namath's old number, you know.\n\t\t\tYou could get a lot of chicks with this.\n\t\t\tJust don't pee in it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tPeter, what about the bathtub?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (grabs the phone and dials)\n\t\t\tWe'll take care of that.\n\t\t\t\t (on the phone)\n\t\t\tRay, Pete.  Listen, get over to Dana's right\n\t\t\taway ... Her bathtub pulled a fast one --\n\t\t\ttried to eat the kid.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tIt was full of this awful pink ooze.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Ray)\n\t\t\tSounds like another slime job ... No,\n\t\t\tthey're all right.  They're here now ...\n\t\t\tRight ... Let me know.\n\nHe hangs up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThey're going over there right now.  You\n\t\t\tmight as well make yourself at home.  Let\n\t\t\tme show you around.\n\t\t\t\t (he crosses to the kitchen area)\n\t\t\tThis is the cuisine de maison --\n\nIt's an incredible mess. The sink is piled high with dirty dishes and the\ncounters are littered with all sorts of food trash.  He grabs a big open\nHefty bag on the floor and starts throwing garbage into it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (looking at the sink)\n\t\t\tWe may have to wash some of these if you get\n\t\t\thungry --\n\t\t\t\t (he looks in the fridge)\n\t\t\t-- but there's no food anyway so forget\n\t\t\tabout it.  I have all kinds of carry-out\n\t\t\tmenus if you feel like ordering.\n\nHe opens a drawer full of pizza, barbecue and Chinese food menus, then\ncrosses to the bathroom.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tBathroom's right here -- let me just tidy\n\t\t\tup a few things.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tPeter, this is very nice, but you don't have\n\t\t\tto do any of this, you know.\n\nHe goes into the bathroom and we hear WATER RUNNING, the TOILET FLUSHING\nand more items going into the Hefty bag.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\tThe shower works but it's a little tricky.\n\t\t\tThey're both marked \"Hot.\"  It takes a little\n\t\t\tpractice, but at least this one won't try\n\t\t\tand eat you.\n\nHe comes out of the bathroom with the now-loaded Hefty bag over his\nshoulder.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tBe careful on that sofa -- it's a butt-biter.\n\t\t\tBut the bed's good and I just changed the\n\t\t\tsheets so if you get tired, feel free.  In\n\t\t\tfact, I think you should definitely plan on\n\t\t\tspending the night here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tReally?  And how would we handle the sleeping\n\t\t\tarrangements?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tFor me it's best if I sleep on my side and\n\t\t\tyou spoon up right behind me with your arms\n\t\t\taround me.  If we go the other way I'm\n\t\t\tafraid your hair will be getting in my face\n\t\t\tall night.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHow about you on the sofa and me in bed with\n\t\t\tthe baby.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOr we could do that.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThank you.\n\t\t\t\t (she picks up Oscar)\n\t\t\tPoor baby.  I think I should put him down\n\t\t\tnow.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'll put him down for you.\n\t\t\t\t (taking the baby)\n\t\t\tYou are way too short!  And your belly-button\n\t\t\tsticks out!  You're nothing but a burden to\n\t\t\tyour poor mother!\n\nVenkman carries the baby into the bedroom leaving Dana in the living\nroom, feeling more relaxed and a lot safer.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM - DAY (NEXT MORNING)\n</b>\nVenkman is waiting in front of the building as ECTO-2 pulls up and\nStantz, Spengler and Winston get out and report on Dana's apartment.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDid you find anything at Dana's?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNothing.  Just some mood-slime residue in\n\t\t\tand around the bathtub.  But we did turn up\n\t\t\tsome interesting stuff on this Vigo character\n\t\t\tyou mentioned.  I found the name Vigo the\n\t\t\tCarpathian in Leon Zundinger's Magicians,\n\t\t\tMartyrs and Madmen.  Listen to this:\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reads from xerox of entry)\n\t\t\t\"Vigo the Carpathian, born 1505, died 1610 --\"\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tA hundred and five years?  He really hung\n\t\t\ton, didn't he.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tAnd he didn't die of old age either.  He was\n\t\t\tpoisoned, stabbed, shot, hung, stretched,\n\t\t\tdisemboweled, drawn and quartered.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tI guess he wasn't too popular at the end\n\t\t\tthere.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tNo, not exactly a man of the people.\n\t\t\t\t (reads)\n\t\t\t\"Also known as Vigo the Cruel, Vigo the\n\t\t\tTorturer, Vigo the Despised, and Vigo the\n\t\t\tUnholy.\"\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThis guy was a bad monkey.  He dabbled in\n\t\t\tall the Black Arts, and listen to this\n\t\t\tprophecy.  Just before his head died, his\n\t\t\tlast words were, \"Death is but a door, time\n\t\t\tis but a window.  I'll be back.\"\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThat's it?  \"I'll be back?\"\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tIt's a rough translation from the Moldavian.\n\nThey enter the museum carrying their monitoring equipment.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - SECURITY DESK - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nRudy the guard looks up in surprise as the Ghostbusters enter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tRUDY\n</b>\t\t\tHey, Dr. Venkman.  What's going on?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWe're just going up to Restorations for a\n\t\t\tminute.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tRUDY\n</b>\t\t\tOh, I can't let you do that.  Mr. Poha told\n\t\t\tme not to let you up there anymore.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with mock seriousness)\n\t\t\tOkay, we were trying to keep this quiet but\n\t\t\tI think you can be trusted.  Tell him, Ray.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (very official)\n\t\t\tMister, you have an Ecto-paritic,\n\t\t\tsubfusionary flux in this building.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tRUDY\n</b>\t\t\tWe got a flux?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tYou got a flux and a half.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNow if you don't want to be the --\n\t\t\t\t (he counts)\n\t\t\t-- fifth person ever to die in meta-shock\n\t\t\tfrom a planar rift, I suggest you get down\n\t\t\tbehind that desk and don't move until we\n\t\t\tgive you the signal \"Stabilize -- All Clear.\"\n\nRudy gulps and starts to hunker down behind the desk as the Ghostbusters\nhead upstairs.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - RESTORATION STUDIO - DAY (MOMENTS LATER)\n</b>\nJanosz is working on the Vigo painting when the Ghostbusters enter.  He\nrushes over and stops them at the door.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tDr. Venkman?  Dana is not here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tThen why have you come?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWe got a major creep alert and we're just\n\t\t\tgoing down the list.  Your name was first.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Spengler and Winston)\n\t\t\tLet's sweep it, boys.\n\nThey deploy and start scanning the studio with their monitoring devices.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Janosz)\n\t\t\tYou know, I never got to ask you.  Where you\n\t\t\tfrom, Johnny?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (nervous)\n\t\t\tThe Upper West Side.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (consulting his PKE meter)\n\t\t\tThis entire room is extremely hot, Peter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tWhat exactly are you looking for, Dr. Venkman?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWe'll know when we find it.  You just sit\n\t\t\ttight.  This won't take long.\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nUsing the Giga-meter, he traces a strong psychomagnetheric reading to\nthe painting of Vigo in the alcove at the end of the studio.  Venkman\ncomes up behind him with Janosz right on his heels.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThis is the one that looked at Dana.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt must be the chemical fumes in the studio.\n\t\t\tPeople start imagining things --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (interrupts)\n\t\t\tI'm going to rule out the glue-sniffing\n\t\t\ttheory.  If she says it looked at her, it\n\t\t\tlooked at her.\n\t\t\t\t (to Vigo)\n\t\t\tHey, you!  Vigie!  Look at me.  I'm talking\n\t\t\tto you.  Hey!  Look at me when I'm talking\n\t\t\tto you.\n\nThey watch the painting for any sign of movement.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nHis eyes stare lifelessly into the distance.\n\n<b>STANTZ AND VENKMAN\n</b>\nVenkman starts shooting Polaroids of Vigo.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Vigo)\n\t\t\tBeautiful, beautiful.  Work with me, baby.\n\t\t\tJust have fun with it.\n\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tOkay, he's playing it cool.  Let's finish\n\t\t\tup and get out of here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI'll get one more reading.\n\nVenkman walks off leaving Stantz alone with the painting.  Stantz scans\nthe painting with the Giga-meter until his eyes meet Vigo's.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nHis eyes seems to burn right through to the depths of Stantz's soul.\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe stands there transfixed, unable to look away, as a strange and subtle\ntransformation occurs within him.  Winston comes up behind him and breaks\nthe spell.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (looking at the painting)\n\t\t\tNow that's one ugly dude.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (coming back to his senses)\n\t\t\tHuh?  What?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tYou finished here?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (distracted)\n\t\t\tWhat?  Yeah.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tAre you all right?  You coming down with\n\t\t\tsomething?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I'm fine.  I just got light-headed for\n\t\t\ta second there.  Let's go.\n\nThey head for the door.\n\n<b>JANOSZ\n</b>\nHe escorts the Ghostbusters to the door.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tSo you see, everything is in order, is it\n\t\t\tnot?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNot.  Don't leave town and report any change\n\t\t\tin your address to the proper authorities.\n\t\t\tWe'll be back.\n\nThey exit.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters cross to ECTO-2.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tThere's definitely something going on in\n\t\t\tthat studio.  The PKE levels were max-plus\n\t\t\tand the Giga-meter was showing all red.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tI'd put my money on that Vigo character.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, that's a safe bet.\n\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tYou and Spengman see what else you can dig\n\t\t\tup on Vigo and this little weasel Poha.\n\t\t\tThose two were made for each other.\n\n<b>INT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters are driving back to the firehouse.  Stantz is at the\nwheel.  His eyes are vacant, he seems distracted and very tense.  Stantz\nswerves suddenly and HONKS the horn angrily.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to another driver)\n\t\t\tIdiot!\n\t\t\t\t (honking)\n\t\t\tMove it, you jerk!\n\nVenkman and Winston exchange surprised looks.\n\n<b>EXT.  STREET - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nStantz drives extremely fast, HONKING vindictively, weaving dangerously\nthrough traffic.\n\n<b>INT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nWinston looks at Ray, concerned.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tGoing a little fast, aren't we, Ray?\n\nStantz turns on him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (viciously)\n\t\t\tAre you telling me how to drive?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I just thought --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWell don't think!\n\nHe HONKS again and tromps hard on the accelerator.\n\n<b>EXT.  STREET - DAY (CONTINUOUS)\n</b>\nEcto-2 is now barreling down the avenue.  Pedestrians leap to safety as\nStantz runs a red light.\n\n<b>INT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThey hang on to the safety straps as Stantz continues his maniacal ride.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Stantz, really worried\n\t\t\t\t now)\n\t\t\tAre you crazy, man?  You're going to kill\n\t\t\tsomebody!\n\nStantz looks at him and smile demonically.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I'm going to kill everybody!\n\nHe swerves off the road.\n\n<b>EXT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe car heads right for a big tree.\n\n<b>INT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nAt the last possible moment, Winston cold-cocks Stantz, grabs the wheel\nand steps across to stomp on the brakes.\n\n<b>EXT.  ECTO-2 - DAY (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe car skids into the tree and stops.  The Ghostbusters stumble out\ndazed and shaken, but unhurt.  Stantz rubs his eyes and looks at the\nothers, completely at a loss.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (himself again)\n\t\t\tWhat happened?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou just picked up three penalty points on\n\t\t\tyour driver's license.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tAre you all right?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, I guess so.  It was the strangest\n\t\t\tthing.  I knew what I was doing but I\n\t\t\tcouldn't stop.  This really terrible feeling\n\t\t\tcame over me and -- I don't know -- I just\n\t\t\tfelt like driving into that tree and ending\n\t\t\tit all.  Whew!  Sorry, boys.\n\nThey inspect the damage to the car.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (confidentially, to\n\t\t\t\t Spengler)\n\t\t\tWatch him, Egon.  Don't even let him shave.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - DAY (LATER)\n</b>\nThere's a KNOCK at the front door, a key turns in the lock, and Venkman\nenters somewhat tentatively holding a bouquet of flowers and a small\nsuitcase of Dana's.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (calls out)\n\t\t\tI'm home!\n\nHe looks around the large open loft.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to himself)\n\t\t\tI knew it.  She cleaned.\n\nHe hears the SHOWER RUNNING and crosses to the bathroom.  The door is\nhalf-open and he can see Dana in the shower (tastefully blurred) through\nthe transparent vinyl curtain.  He closes the bathroom door and looks at\nthe baby asleep on the bed, surrounded by pillows to prevent him rolling\noff.  Then he turns and bumps into Dana who's just coming out of the\nbathroom wrapped in a towel.  She jumps back into the bathroom.\n\nShe comes out again, this time wearing a robe.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAre you all squeaky clean now?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (humoring him)\n\t\t\tYes, I'm very clean.  Did they find anything\n\t\t\tat my apartment?\n\nShe squeezes past him into the bedroom and closes the door.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (through the door)\n\t\t\tNothing.  They stayed there all night, went\n\t\t\tthrough your personal stuff, made a bunch of\n\t\t\tlong-distance phone calls and cleaned out\n\t\t\tyour refrigerator.  And didn't find anything.\n\nDana opens the bedroom door.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThey didn't find anything?  In the bathtub\n\t\t\t... the pink ooze ... nothing?  So, what do\n\t\t\tI do now?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNow you get dressed and we go out.  I got a\n\t\t\tbabysitter and everything.  Trust me, you\n\t\t\tneed it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI'm not here to date.  I can't leave Oscar\n\t\t\tin a strange place with someone I don't know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tIt's Janine Melnitz, from my staff.  She's\n\t\t\tone of my most valuable employees.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tDoes she know anything about babies?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tJanine Melnitz, are you kidding?\n\t\t\t\t (handing her the flowers)\n\t\t\tDo I have a vase?  I brought some of your\n\t\t\tclothes.  Wear something intriguing.  I\n\t\t\tbrought along some interesting possibilities.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, but it's not a date.  It's a dinner.\n\nShe smiles and closes the door again.  He opens the closet and starts\nlooking for his good suit.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDid you happen to see some shirts on the\n\t\t\tfloor in here?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\tI put them in your hamper.  I thought they\n\t\t\twere dirty.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shaking his head)\n\t\t\tI have a hamper?  Next time ask me first,\n\t\t\tokay.  I have more than two grades of\n\t\t\tlaundry.  There're lots of subtle levels\n\t\t\tbetween clean and dirty.\n\nHe pulls some clothes out of the hamper and inspects them.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThese aren't so bad yet.  You just hang them\n\t\t\tup for a while and they're fine.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b><b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - RECEPTION AREA - EARLY EVENING\n</b>\nJanine covers her computer terminal and starts turning out the lights.\nThen she notices that the lights are still on upstairs.  She starts\nprimping and freshening up her makeup.\n\n<b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - LAB AREA - SAME TIME\n</b>\nLouis is strapping on a proton pack, preparing to deal with Slimer once\nand for all.  He's wearing a bicyclist's rearview mirror on a headband.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to himself)\n\t\t\tOkay, Stinky, this is it.  Showdown time.\n\t\t\tYou and me, pal.  You think you're smarter\n\t\t\tthan I am?  We'll see about that.\n\t\t\t\t (loud)\n\t\t\tOh, hello, Pizza Man!  Oh, two larges!  I\n\t\t\tonly ordered one.  Oh, pepperoni and\n\t\t\tpineapple.  My absolute favorite.  I guess\n\t\t\tI'll have to eat these both by myself.\n\n<b>THE CEILING\n</b>\nSlimer pokes his head through the ceiling and scans the room hanging\nupside down.\n\n<b>LOUIS\n</b>\nHe spots Slimer through the rearview mirror.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (quietly)\n\t\t\tOkay, let's boogie!\n\nHe whirls around and fires a proton stream at Slimer, slicing a burning a\ngash across the ceiling.\n\n<b>THE STAIRS\n</b>\nJanine comes up and ducks as a bolt of energy streaks across the room and\nstrikes the wall behind her.  Slimer disappears.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (embarrassed and apologetic)\n\t\t\tOh migod!  I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to do\n\t\t\tthat.  It was an accident.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tWhat are you doing up here?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI was trying to get that smelly green thing.\n\t\t\tThe guys asked me to help out.  I'm like the\n\t\t\tfifth Ghostbuster.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tWhy would you want to be a Ghostbuster if\n\t\t\tyou're already an accountant?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh, no, it's just if one of the guys calls\n\t\t\tin sick or gets hurt.\n\nLouis quickly slips off the proton pack and sets it down.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tHave you made any plans yet?  You know\n\t\t\ttomorrow is New Year's Eve.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tNo, I celebrate at the beginning of my\n\t\t\tcorporate tax year which is March first.\n\t\t\tThat way I beat the crowds.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tThat's very practical.  I hate going out on\n\t\t\tNew Year's Eve, too.\n\nThere is an awkward silence between them and Janine starts to leave.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tWell, good night, Louis.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on an impulse)\n\t\t\tJanine, do you feel like maybe getting\n\t\t\tsomething to eat on the way home?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tI'd like to, but I told Dr. Venkman I'd\n\t\t\tbabysit.\n\t\t\t\t (seductively)\n\t\t\tDo you want to babysit with me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh, sure, that sounds great.\n\nThey exit.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nThere is a KNOCK at the door and Venkman goes to answer it.  He's dressed\nfor the evening and looking very dapper.\n\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - ENTRANCE HALL - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n</b>\nVenkman opens the door and finds Stantz, Spengler and Winston standing\nthere wearing over-the-hip rubberized waders, firemen's slickers, and\nminers' helmets, carrying tons of sensing devices, meters, collection\njars and photographic equipment.  They look like they're rigged out for a\nmajor spelunking expedition.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (ushering them in)\n\t\t\tDon't tell me, let me guess.  All-you-can-eat\n\t\t\tbarbecue rib night at the Sizzler?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWe're going down into the sewer system to\n\t\t\tsee if we can trace the source of the\n\t\t\tpsycho-reactive slime flow.  We thought you\n\t\t\tmight want to come along.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDarn it!  I wish I'd known you were going.\n\t\t\tI'm stuck with these damn dinner reservations.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tYou know, animals and lower life forms often\n\t\t\tanticipate major disasters.  Given the new\n\t\t\tmagnetheric readings we could see a tremendous\n\t\t\tbreeding surge in the cockroach population.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tRoach breeding?  Sounds better and better.\n\t\t\t\t (calls out)\n\t\t\tDana?  The boys are going down under the\n\t\t\tsewers tonight to look for slime.  Egon\n\t\t\tthinks there might even be some kind of big\n\t\t\troach-breeding surge.  Should we forget about\n\t\t\tdinner and go with them instead?\n\nDana steps into the living room looking very beautiful.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWow.\n\nDana looks curiously at their outfits.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tHi.\n\nThey nod and wave back.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Ray and Egon)\n\t\t\tI think we're going to have to pass on the\n\t\t\tsewer trip, boys.  Let me know what you find\n\t\t\tout.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on his exit)\n\t\t\tOkay, but you're missing all the fun.\n\n<b>INT.  VAN HORNE STATION - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nStantz, Spengler and Winston come down the stairs into the station,\nguided by a very old map of the underground city.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThis is it.  Van Horne Station.  Right where\n\t\t\tthe old transit map said it would be.\n\nThey cross to the edge of the platform and look into the river of slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tLet's get a sounding on the depth of that\n\t\t\tflow.\n\nStantz has a long, coiled, graduated cord with a plumb bob on the end of\nit attached to his utility belt.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tStand back.\n\nHe takes the cord in his hand, swings the plumb bob over his head and\ncasts it out into the middle of the flow.  The plumb bob sinks and\nSpengler reads the depth.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tSix feet -- seven -- eight --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThat's it.  It's on the bottom.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tNine feet -- ten --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tIs the line sinking?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tNo, the slime is rising.\n\nStantz looks down and notices the slime rising over the edge of the\nplatform and around his boots.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (alarmed)\n\t\t\tLet's get out of here, boys.\n\nHe starts to pull out the plumb line but it seems to be stuck.\n\nSpengler tries to help, but whatever is pulling on the cord is stronger\nthan all three of them.  As their unseen adversary pulls them closer and\ncloser to the edge, Stantz works desperately to unhook the cord from his\nbelt but finally just unhooks the whole belt.  Spengler lets go in time\nbut Winston doesn't.  He is jerked off his feet and into the slime flow.\nStantz and Spengler look at each other, summon their courage and jump in\nafter him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  ARMAND RESTAURANT - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nDana and Venkman are sitting at a table in an elegant restaurant nibbling\ncaviar and toasting with very expensive champagne.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (very intimate)\n\t\t\tHere's to -- us.\n\nShe sighs and drinks.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo -- are you making any New Year's\n\t\t\tresolutions?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI want to stop getting involved with men who\n\t\t\taren't good for me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDoes that start exactly at midnight tomorrow,\n\t\t\tor could you hold off for a few days maybe?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tFor one night in your life, do you think\n\t\t\tit's possible for us to be completely real?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAll right, you want to be real?  So tell me\n\t\t\twhy did you dump me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tOh, Peter, I didn't dump you.  I just had\n\t\t\tto protect myself.  You really weren't very\n\t\t\tgood for me, you know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm not even good for me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tWhy do you say things like that?  You're so\n\t\t\tmuch better than you know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThank you.  If I had that kind of support\n\t\t\ton a daily basis, I could definitely shape\n\t\t\tup by the turn of the century.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (already feeling the\n\t\t\t\t effects of the champagne)\n\t\t\tSo why don't you give me a jingle in the\n\t\t\tyear 2000?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tLet me jingle you right now.\n\nHe leans over to kiss her.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tMaybe I should call Janine.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDon't worry.  Janine has a very special way\n\t\t\twith children.\n\nThey kiss.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  APARTMENT - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nJanine is on the sofa doing her nails while Louis paces with the baby.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (looking around)\n\t\t\tI can't believe a person could actually live\n\t\t\tlike this.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the baby)\n\t\t\tSo these dwarfs had a limited partnership in\n\t\t\ta small mining operation and then one day a\n\t\t\tbeautiful princess came to live with them.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tIt's really not a bad place.  It just needs\n\t\t\ta woman's touch.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (continuing)\n\t\t\tSo they bartered room and board in exchange\n\t\t\tfor housekeeping services, which was a good\n\t\t\tdeal for all of them because then they didn't\n\t\t\thave to withhold tax and social security,\n\t\t\twhich I'm not saying is right but it's just\n\t\t\ta story, so I guess it's all right.  I can\n\t\t\tfinish this later if you're tired.\n\nLouis goes into the bedroom and puts the baby down.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tYou're really good with children, Louis.  I\n\t\t\tcan tell.\n\t\t\t\t (as he returns)\n\t\t\tWhy don't you come here and sit with me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOkay.\n\nHe sits stiffly beside her on the sofa.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (getting close)\n\t\t\tMotherhood is a very natural instinct for\n\t\t\tme.  I'd like to have a baby myself.\n\t\t\tWouldn't you?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (gulps)\n\t\t\tTonight?\n\n<b>EXT.  STREET - MANHOLE COVER - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nA manhole cover is dislodged and pushed up from below.  It slides away,\nand Winston crawls out of the manhole followed by Stantz and Spengler.\nThey are exhausted and covered with slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (uncharacteristically\n\t\t\t\t angry)\n\t\t\tNice going, Ray!  What were you trying to\n\t\t\tdo -- drown me?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (unusually mean)\n\t\t\tLook, Zeddemore, it wasn't my fault you were\n\t\t\ttoo stupid to drop that line.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shoves him)\n\t\t\tYou better watch your mouth, man, or I'll\n\t\t\tpunch your lights out.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOh yeah?  Anytime, anytime.  Just go ahead\n\t\t\tand try it.\n\nSpengler steps between them with unprecedented aggression.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tIf you two are looking for a fight, you got\n\t\t\tone.\n\t\t\t\t (putting up his fists)\n\t\t\tWho wants it first?  Come on, Ray.  Try me,\n\t\t\tsucker.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (squaring off)\n\t\t\tButt out, you pencil-necked geek.  I've had\n\t\t\tit with you.\n\nThey grab each other and start to tussle.  Suddenly Spengler comes to his\nsenses and pulls them apart.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (forcefully)\n\t\t\tStrip!  Right now!  Get out of those clothes!\n\nHe starts yanking off his slicker and waders.  Bewildered, Stantz and\nWinston start doing the same.  Spengler helps pull off their clothes and\nthrows them into the open manhole.  Now wearing only long underwear, they\nseem to return to normal.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tWhat are we doing?  Ray, I was ready to kill\n\t\t\tyou.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tDon't you see?  It's the slime.  That stuff\n\t\t\tis like pure, concentrated evil.\n\nStantz looks around and sees that they are standing right in front of the\nmuseum.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tAnd it's all flowing right to this spot.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  ARMAND RESTAURANT ENTRANCE - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe MAITRE D' looks up in surprise as Stantz, Spengler and Winston enter\nthe restaurant wearing only long underwear.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAITRE D'\n</b>\t\t\t\t (intercepting them)\n\t\t\tCan I help you?\n\nStantz looks around and spots Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThat's all right, I see him.\n\nThey blow right by the Maitre d' who jumps back in horror as they pass.\n\n<b>VENKMAN\n</b>\nHe's just about to pour more champagne when he sees Ray, Egon and Winston\ncoming toward him through the restaurant.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (very excited)\n\t\t\tYou should've been there, Venkman.\n\t\t\tAbsolutely incredible!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, sorry I missed it.\n\t\t\t\t (noting their attire)\n\t\t\tI guess you guys didn't know about the dress\n\t\t\tcode here.  It's really kind of a coat and\n\t\t\ttie place.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt's all over the city, Pete -- well, under\n\t\t\tit actually.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tRivers of the stuff!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tAnd it's all flowing toward the museum.\n\nHe gestures excitedly and a big gob of slime flies across the room and\nlands on a well-dressed diner.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (calls out)\n\t\t\tSorry!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tMaybe we should discuss this somewhere else.\n\nVenkman notes the look of alarm on Dana's face and pulls his colleagues\naside.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (confidentially)\n\t\t\tBoys, listen.  You're scaring the straights.\n\t\t\tLet's save this until tomorrow, okay?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Venkman)\n\t\t\tThis won't wait until tomorrow, Venkman.\n\t\t\tIt's hot and it's ready to pop.\n\n<b>MAITRE D'\n</b>\nHe hurries through the restaurant with two city COPS right behind him and\nmakes straight for Venkman's table.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAITRE D'\n</b>\t\t\tArrest these men.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (recognizing them)\n\t\t\tHey!  It's the Ghostbusters.  You're out of\n\t\t\tuniform, gentlemen\n\nStantz suddenly realizes how ridiculous they look.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (self-conscious)\n\t\t\tUh -- well -- we had a little accident, but\n\t\t\tforget that.  We have to see the mayor as\n\t\t\tsoon as possible.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\tLook, Doc, why don't you just go home.\n\t\t\tYou'll get a good night's sleep and then you\n\t\t\tcan give the mayor a call in the morning.\n\t\t\tCome on.\n\nHe takes Stantz by the arm but Stantz resists.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWe're not going anywhere with you.  I told\n\t\t\tyou we have to see the mayor now.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (grabbing Stantz)\n\t\t\tI'm warning you.  You can come along\n\t\t\tpeaceably or --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (grabs the Cop)\n\t\t\tHey, don't be an idiot.  This is serious.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (angry)\n\t\t\tLook, pal, keep this up and you're going\n\t\t\twith them.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOh, yeah?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (has had enough)\n\t\t\tYeah, let's go.  You're all under arrest.\n\nThe Cop catches Venkman in an armlock and starts walking him out of the\nrestaurant.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Dana)\n\t\t\tFinish your dessert -- it's already paid\n\t\t\tfor.  I'll call you.\n\nThey all exit, causing a major commotion among the other diners.\n\n<b>EXT.  ARMAND'S RESTAURANT - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe police car is parked right behind Ecto-2.  Spengler stops at the\npolice car and confronts the cops.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tLook, we're not drunk and we're not crazy.\n\t\t\tThis is a matter of vital importance.\n\nVenkman steps in and looks at the policemen's nametags.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\tWhat are you doing?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI just want to get your names right for when\n\t\t\tthe mayor asks us why we didn't let him know\n\t\t\tabout this sooner.\n\nThe Cops look at each other, uncertain about what to do.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCOP\n</b>\t\t\t\t (relenting)\n\t\t\tOkay, Doc.  You want to see the mayor, you\n\t\t\tgot it.  Follow us.\n\nThey head for their respective vehicles.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nLouis and Janine are on the sofa making out when Dana enters.  They jump\nup and start smoothing their clothes.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (embarrassed)\n\t\t\tOh, hello, Dana.  we were just -- we were --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI know what you were doing, Louis.  It's\n\t\t\tall right.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tHow was your date?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tTypical.  Peter was arrested.  Has he called?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tNo, nobody called.\n\nDana frowns.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tIs everything all right with Oscar?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tOh, he's fine.  He's such a good baby.  He\n\t\t\twas a little fussy at first, but we gave\n\t\t\thim a Freach bread pizza and he went right\n\t\t\tto sleep.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (relieved)\n\t\t\tOh, good.  I'll just check on him.\n\nShe crosses to the bedroom.\n\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S BEDROOM - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nDana looks at Oscar sleeping peacefully on the bed.  She starts to change\nclothes.\n\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nLouis and Janine aren't sure what to do.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tShould we go?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tI don't think we should leave her alone.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tYou're right.  We should stay.\n\nHe grabs Janine and they start making out again.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM RESTORATION STUDIO - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nJanosz stands before the painting of Vigo.  Vigo comes to life and\nrepeats the litany of his power.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tI, Vigo, the scourge of Carpathia --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (heard all this before)\n\t\t\tYes, the scourge --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\t-- the sorrow of Moldavia --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t-- the sorrow --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tI command you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (checking his watch)\n\t\t\tI await the word of Vigo.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tThe season of evil begins with the birth of\n\t\t\tthe new year.  Bring me the child that I\n\t\t\tmight live again.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (abjectly humble)\n\t\t\tLord Vigo, the mother, Dana, is fine and\n\t\t\tstrong.  I was wondering -- well, would it\n\t\t\tbe possible -- if I bring the baby, could I\n\t\t\thave the woman?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tSo be it.  On this the day of darkness, she\n\t\t\twill be ours, wife to you and mother to me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  CARL SCHURZ PARK - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nPreceded by a police car, Ecto-2 enters the small park on the East River\nat 88th Street and disappears into an underground entrance.  The CAMERA\nPANS UP to reveal Gracie Mansion, the residence of the Mayor of New York\nCity.\n\n<b>INT.  GRACIE MANSION - MOMENTS LATER\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters, now wearing police raincoats over their longjohns are\nushered through the house by a butler to a set of double oak doors.  The\nbutler knocks lightly, then opens the door to reveal the MAYOR sitting in\nfront of the fireplace in his well-appointed private study, flanked by\nJack Hardemeyer, both in tuxedoes.  The Ghostbusters enter.\n\n<b>INT.  STUDY - CONTINUOUS ACTION\n</b>\nThe Mayor is impatient and a little angry at having been pulled out of\nhis formal reception.  He frowns at their bizarre attire.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\tAll right -- the Ghostbusters.  I'll tell\n\t\t\tyou right now; I've got two hundred of the\n\t\t\theaviest campaign contributors in the city\n\t\t\tout there eating bad roast chicken waiting\n\t\t\tfor me to give the speech of my life.\n\t\t\tYou've got two minutes.  Make it good.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou get enough negative energy flowing in a\n\t\t\tdense environment like Manhattan, it starts\n\t\t\tto build up, and if we don't do something\n\t\t\tfast this whole place will blow like a frog\n\t\t\ton a hotplate.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tTell him about the toaster.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI don't think he's ready for the toaster.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shaking his head)\n\t\t\tBeing miserable and treating other people\n\t\t\tlike dirt is every New Yorker's God-given\n\t\t\tright.  What am I supposed to do -- go on\n\t\t\ttelevision and tell eight million people\n\t\t\tthey have to be nice to each other?  I'm\n\t\t\tsorry, none of this makes any sense to me,\n\t\t\tand if anything does happen we've got plenty\n\t\t\tof paid professionals to deal with it.  Your\n\t\t\ttwo minutes are up.  Good night, gentlemen.\n\nThe mayor exits, leaving the Ghostbusters to Hardemeyer.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (smirking)\n\t\t\tThat's quite a story.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, I think the Times might be interested,\n\t\t\tdon't you?  The Post might have a lot of fun\n\t\t\twith it, too.\n\nHardemeyer's eyes go cold and calculating.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tBefore you go running to the newspapers with\n\t\t\tthis, would you consider telling this slime\n\t\t\tthing to some people downtown?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tNow you're talking.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  PARKVIEW HOSPITAL - PSYCHIATRIC WARD - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nAn attendant opens a locked door with a wire mesh window and the\nGhostbusters, in straitjackets, are led into the psych ward as Hardemeyer\nconfers with the chief PSYCHIATRIST.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (protesting)\n\t\t\tI'm telling you, we're not crazy.  He is!\n\n<b>HARDEMEYER\n</b>\nHe laughs off the remark.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Psychiatrist)\n\t\t\tThe mayor wants them kept under strict\n\t\t\tobservation for a few days.  We think\n\t\t\tthey're seriously disturbed and potentially\n\t\t\tdangerous.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPSYCHIATRIST\n</b>\t\t\tWe'll do whatever's necessary.\n\nHardemeyer shakes his hand and exits as the door slams shut on the\nGhostbusters.\n\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S LOFT - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nLouis and Janine are watching an old rerun on TV, eating popcorn, while\nDana is stretched out on the other sofa.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (wishing they'd leave)\n\t\t\tYou know you really don't have to stay.\n\t\t\tPeter should be back soon.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh no, we don't mind.\n\nShe hears a little CRY from the nursery and sits up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tExcuse me.  I think Oscar is up.\n\nShe crosses to the bedroom.\n\n<b>INT.  VENKMAN'S BEDROOM - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nDana enters and immediately notices that the crib is empty and the window\nis open.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (screams)\n\t\t\tLouis!\n\nFrantic now, Dana rushes to the window and looks out, as Louis and Janine\ncome running in.\n\n<b>EXT.  WINDOW LEDGE - DANA'S POV - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nThe baby is standing out on the ledge at the corner of the building,\nfifty feet above the street, staring off into the distance as if he's\nwaiting for something.\n\n<b>EXT.  WINDOW LEDGE - NIGHT (ECLIPSE) (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nDana climbs out onto the ledge and starts inching slowly toward the baby.\nThen she stops as a miraculous apparition materializes.\n\n<b>LOUIS AND JANINE\n</b>\nThey lean out the window, gaping at the apparition.\n\n<b>EXT.  VENKMAN'S LEDGE - APPARITION\n</b>\nA sweet, kindly-looking English nanny appears, pushing a pram, strolling\non thin air parallel to the ledge high above the ground.  Her face looks\nremarkably like Janosz Poha's.  The nanny extends her hand to the BABY\nwho GURGLES sweetly as he reaches out to take it.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe watches in helpless horror.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (screams)\n\t\t\tNo!!\n\n<b>GHOST NANNY\n</b>\nShe picks up the baby and lays it gently in the pram, then turns and\nsmiles at Dana.  The smile turns to a hideous grin, then the nanny\nshrieks at Dana and takes off like a shot with the baby.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe watches the creature fly off with Oscar, then climbs back through\nthe window assisted by Louis and Janine.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (resolutely)\n\t\t\tLouis, you have to find Peter and tell him\n\t\t\twhat happened.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (confused and worried)\n\t\t\tWhere're you going?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tTo get my baby back.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM - NIGHT (A LITTLE LATER)\n</b>\nA taxi pulls up, Dana jumps out and rushes into the museum.  The moment\nthe door closes behind her, there is a loud THUNDERCLAP, the ground\ntrembles and a massive amount of slime erupts from around the base of\nthe museum and starts covering the walls, sealing her inside the\nbuilding.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  PARKVIEW PSYCHIATRIC - PADDED ROOM - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nVenkman, Stantz, Spengler and Winston are in a padded cell.  They are\nhandcuffed and the cuffs are chained to thick leather belts around their\nwaists.  Venkman stands there banging his head into the padded wall\nwhile the others try to explain the situation to a skeptical\nPsychiatrist.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWe think the spirit of Vigo the Carpathian\n\t\t\tis alive in a painting at the Manhattan\n\t\t\tMuseum.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPSYCHIATRIST\n</b>\t\t\tI see. And are there any other paintings in\n\t\t\tthe museum with bad spirits in them?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (impatient)\n\t\t\tYou're wasting valuable time!  We have reason\n\t\t\tto believe that Vigo is drawing strength from\n\t\t\ta psychomagnetheric slime flow that's been\n\t\t\tcollecting under the city.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPSYCHIATRIST\n</b>\t\t\tYes, tell me about the slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tIt's potent stuff.  We made a toaster dance\n\t\t\twith it, then a bathtub tried to eat his\n\t\t\tfriend's baby.\n\nThe psychiatrist looks at Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tDon't look at me.  I think they're nuts.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM RESTORATION STUDIO - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nMoonlight streams through the skylight above, bathing the studio in\neerie white light.  Oscar is lying safely on a table in front of the\npainting of Vigo.  Dana enters cautiously and sees the baby.  Seeing no\none else about, she quickly sneaks down to the table and picks up the\nbaby, hugging hin tight, greatly relieved to find him unharmed and\nintact.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ (O.S.)\n</b>\t\t\tI knew you would come.\n\nStartled, Dana turns at the sound of his voice as Janosz steps out from\nbehind the Vigo painting.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (defiantly)\n\t\t\tWhat do you want with my baby?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo harm will come to the child.  You might\n\t\t\teven say it's a privilege.  He will be the\n\t\t\tvessel for the spirit of Vigo.  And you --\n\t\t\twell, you will be the mother of the ruler\n\t\t\tof the world.  Doesn't that sound nice?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tIf this is what the world will be like, I\n\t\t\tdon't want to live in it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (confidentially, indicating\n\t\t\t\t Vigo)\n\t\t\tI don't believe we have the luxury of choice.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tEverybody has a choice.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tNot in this case, my dear.  Take a look.\n\t\t\tThat's not Gainsborough's Blue Boy up there.\n\t\t\tHe's Vigo!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI don't care who he is.  He's not taking my\n\t\t\tbaby.\n\nDana walks quickly to the door but suddenly Oscar flies out of her arms,\nfloats across the room and lands lightly back in the cradle.\n\n<b>DANA\n</b>\nShe turns and looks at Vigo, for the first time feeling his power.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou will see.  It's all for the best.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  PARKVIEW HOSPITAL - DAY (NEXT MORNING)\n</b>\nIt's the last day of the year and the sun is shining brightly.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  PARKVIEW PSYCHIATRIC WARD - DAY (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters are sitting in the dayroom, a dingy lounge for patients\nin the locked ward.  There is a television set, a Ping-Pong table and a\nfew tables and chairs.  Stantz is looking at the sky through the heavy\nwire mesh covering the windows.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThis is it. boys.  It's starting.  Shit-storm\n<b>\t\t\t2000.\n</b>\nVenkman is doing occupational therapy, weaving on a little hand-loom.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tIt better not start yet.  I'm trying to\n\t\t\tfinish my potholder before lunch.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tYou think all those predictions about the\n\t\t\tworld coming to an end in the 1990s are true?\n\nA PATIENT at the next table joins the discussion.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPATIENT\n</b>\t\t\t\t (with certainty)\n\t\t\t1997.  My dog told me.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat kind of dog?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tPATIENT\n</b>\t\t\tLabrador.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shakes his head)\n\t\t\tHabitual liars.  They can't help it.  It's\n\t\t\tin the breed.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  PARKVIEW HOSPITAL - EXAMINING ROOM - DAY (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nLouis is pleading with his cousin, SHERMAN TULLY, a doctor on the staff\nat Parkview.  He looks and sounds just like Louis.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tCome on, Sherm.  You're my cousin.  Do this\n\t\t\tfor me.  I'm begging you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI can't do it, Louis.  It isn't ethical.  I\n\t\t\tcould lose my license.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tWhy can't you just have them released?\n\t\t\tYou're a doctor.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI'm a dermatologist.  I can't write orders\n\t\t\ton the psych ward.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tSherman, I've done lots of favors for you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tLike what?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI got you out of those bad tax shelters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYou were the one who got me in.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI fixed you up with Diane Troxler and she\n\t\t\tput out, didn't she?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, I had to give her free dermabrasion\n\t\t\tfor a year.  Forget it, Louis.  I could get\n\t\t\tin a lot of trouble.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI'm telling you, we're all going to be in\n\t\t\tbig trouble if we don't do something fast.\n\t\t\tThat ghost guy came and took my friend's\n\t\t\tbaby and we got to get it back.  It's just\n\t\t\ta scared little baby, Sherm.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThen you should go to the police.  I don't\n\t\t\tbelieve in any of that stuff.\n\nSherman looks out the window.\n\n<b>EXT.  SKY - SHERMAN'S POV\n</b>\nThe sky begins to go dark as the sun is magically eclipsed.\n\n<b>INT.  EXAMINING ROOM - CONTINUOUS ACTION - DAY\n</b>\nThe room goes dark.  Louis switches on a lamp which casts an eerie light\non his face.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (spooky)\n\t\t\tDo you believe it now, Sherm?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  HUDSON RIVER PIER - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nA drainpipe starts dripping slime into the river near the Cunard Line\ndocks.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  PUBLIC FOUNTAIN (59TH AND FIFTH) - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nWith the Plaza Hotel in the background, the fountain starts to spout\npsycho-reactive slime.\n\n<b>HOTEL ENTRANCE\n</b>\nA well-heeled MAN and WOMAN step out of a limousine and walk up the steps\ntoward the revolving door.  She looks up at the sky and frowns.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWOMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shrewish)\n\t\t\tI told you we should have stayed in Palm\n\t\t\tBeach.  The weather here gets stranger every\n\t\t\tyear.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAN\n</b>\t\t\tYes, dear.\n\nShe doesn't notice it, but a small amount of slime falls on the back of\nher luxurious, full-length, white mink coat.  The doorman nods\ncourteously and extends a hand to help her up the stairs.\n\n<b>WOMAN\n</b>\nShe yelps in pain.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWOMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the doorman)\n\t\t\tSomething just bit me!\n\nThe doorman looks curiously at her, then recoils in shock as her coat\ncomes alive.  MINK HEADS pop out of the thick fur, SNARLING, BARKING and\nYAPPING, their sharp, little teeth biting the air.  Reacting quickly, the\ndoorman yanks the coat off the woman's back, throws it to the ground and\nstarts stomping on it as the Woman and her husband look on in horror.\nThe coat scuttles down the steps and runs off down the street.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MIDTOWN CENTRAL POLICE PRECINCT - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nThe squad room is busy as DETECTIVES try to answer the flood of calls\nregarding the wave of supernatural events sweeping the city.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDETECTIVE ONE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on the phone)\n\t\t\tLook, lady, of course there are dead people\n\t\t\tthere.  It's a cemetery ...\n\t\t\t\t (his face falls)\n\t\t\tThey were asking you for directions?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDETECTIVE TWO\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on another phone)\n\t\t\tWas this a big dinosaur or a little dinosaur?\n\t\t\t... Oh, just the skeleton, huh?  Well, where\n\t\t\tis it now?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDETECTIVE THREE\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on the phone)\n\t\t\tWait a second -- the park bench was chasing\n\t\t\tyou?  You mean, someone was chasing you in\n\t\t\tthe park ... No, the bench itself was chasing\n\t\t\tyou.  I see --\n\nA weary SERGEANT answers a RINGING PHONE.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSERGEANT\n</b>\t\t\tManhattan Central, Flaherty speaking ...\n\t\t\tYeah ... yeah? ... What?  Who is this? ...\n\t\t\tWait a second.\n\nHe puts the caller on \"Hold\" and turns the LIEUTENANT.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSERGEANT\n</b>\t\t\tLieutenant, I think you better talk to this\n\t\t\tguy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLIEUTENANT\n</b>\t\t\t\t (on another call)\n\t\t\tWhat is it?  I'm talkin' here!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSERGEANT\n</b>\t\t\tIt's some dock supervisor down at Pier 34\n\t\t\ton the Hudson.  The guy's going nuts.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLIEUTENANT\n</b>\t\t\tWhat's the problem?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSERGEANT\n</b>\t\t\t\t (takes a deep breath)\n\t\t\tHe says the Titanic just arrived.\n\n<b>INT.  PORT AUTHORITY OFFICE - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nThe dock supervisor stands there with the phone in his hand, an assistant\nbeside him, both staring out the window at the ocean liner tied up at the\npier.\n\n<b>EXT.  PIER 34 - THEIR POV - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nThe name \"R.M.S. Titanic\" is clearly visible on the side of the huge\nship.  The gangplank is down and dozens of drowned passengers, sopping\nwet and festooned with seaweed, are disembarking while drowned porters\noff-load their waterlogged baggage.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  PARKVIEW HOSPITAL - NIGHT (MOMENTS LATER)(ECLIPSE)\n</b>\nEcto-2 is parked outside as Louis and Sherman come out of the hospital\nwith the Ghostbusters, now wearing their standard uniforms.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tGood work, Louis.  How did you get us out?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh, I pulled a few strings.  I wouldn't want\n\t\t\tto say any more than that.\n\nLouis winks conspiratorially at Sherman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tThis is my cousin Sherman.  Sherm, say hello\n\t\t\tto the Ghostbusters.\n\t\t\t\t (sotto voce to Stantz)\n\t\t\tI promised him a ride in the car if he got\n\t\t\tyou out.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Ghostbusters)\n\t\t\tHi, it's really great to meet you guys.  I\n\t\t\tknow this sounds weird but once I had a\n\t\t\tdream that my grandfather was standing at\n\t\t\tthe foot of my bed, but I knew it was\n\t\t\timpossible because he died and he started\n\t\t\tto tell me that --\n\nWhile he's talking, the Ghostbusters jump in the Ectomobile and drive\noff, leaving him and Louis standing at the curb.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tHey!  Wait!  Okay, I'll meet you there.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSHERMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI thought you were like the fifth Ghostbuster.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI let them handle all the little stuff.  I\n\t\t\tjust come in on the big ones.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>-----------------------------------------------------------------------\n</b>(original version of the above scene - 11/27/88)\n(TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES: These two versions of this scene were put in my\ncopy of the script, so I have included both of them here)\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tActually, they still think you're crazy, but\n\t\t\tI convinced them you're not dangerous.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (determined)\n\t\t\tYeah, well guess again.\n\n<b>EXT.  BELLEVUE HOSPITAL - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)(MOMENTS LATER)\n</b>\nEcto-2 is parked outside and the Ghostbusters are hastily donning their\nstandard uniforms.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tI brought everything you asked for and I\n\t\t\tgassed up the car with Super Unleaded.  It\n\t\t\tcost twenty cents more than Regular Unleaded\n\t\t\tbut you get much better performance and in\n\t\t\tan old car like this that'll end up saving\n\t\t\tyou money in the long run.  I put it on my\n\t\t\tcredit card, so you can either reimburse me\n\t\t\tor I can take it out of petty cash --\n\nWhile he's talking, the Ghostbusters jump in the Ecto-2 and drive\noff without him.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tHey!  Wait!  Okay, I'll meet you there.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>-----------------------------------------------------------------------\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM - NIGHT (ECLIPSE)(LATER)\n</b>\nECTO-2 pulls to the curb across the street from the museum.  Hundreds of\nspectators are already there gawking at the building as the Ghostbusters\njump out and gape at the sight that greets them.\n\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM THEIR POV - BUILDING\n</b>\nThe building is now totally covered in a shell of psycho-reactive slime.\nCITY WORKMEN and FIREMEN are trying to cut their way in with blowtorches,\njackhammers, power tools and the \"jaws of life,\" but they can't even make\na dent.\n\n<b>GHOSTBUSTERS\n</b>\nThey size up the situation as they don their proton packs.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt looks like a giant Jello mold.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tI hate Jello.\n\nThey stride manfully across the street and approach the main entrance to\nthe museum.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Fire Captain)\n\t\t\tOkay, give it a rest, Captain.  We'll take\n\t\t\tit from here.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRE CAPTAIN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (skeptical)\n\t\t\tBe my guest.  We been cutting here for three\n\t\t\thours.  What the hell's going on?  You know\n\t\t\tthe Titanic arrived this morning?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWell, better late than never.\n\nThe workmen and firemen put down their tools and fall back as the\nGhostbusters draw their particle throwers.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (monitoring valences)\n\t\t\tFull neutronas, maser assist.\n\nThey adjust their settings and prepare to fire.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tThrow 'em!\n\nThey trigger their throwers and spray the front doors of the building\nwith bolts of proton energy, but it has no effect on the hardened slime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the firemen)\n\t\t\tOkay, who knows \"Cumbaya?\"\n\nA few of the firemen and workmen tentatively raise their hands.  Venkman\ngrabs them and lines them up at the entrance of the museum.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAll right.  Nice and sweet --\n\t\t\t\t (starts singing)\n\t\t\tCumbaya, milord, cumbaya --\n\nStantz, Spengler, Winston and the firemen sing along, reluctantly holding\nhands and swaying to the music.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tALL\n</b>\t\t\t\t (singing)\n\t\t\tCumbaya, milord, cumbaya, Cumbaya, milord,\n\t\t\tcumbaya, Oh, Lord, cumbaya.\n\nStantz inspects the wall of slime with his infra-goggles and finds that\nthey have only managed to open a hole the size of a dime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tForget it.  The Vienna Boys Choir couldn't\n\t\t\tget through this stuff.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tGood effort.  Now what?  Should we say\n\t\t\tsupportive, nurturing things to it, Ray?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tIt won't work.  There's no way we could\n\t\t\tgenerate enough positive energy to crack\n\t\t\tthat shell.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI can't believe things have gotten so bad\n\t\t\tin this city that there's no way back.\n\t\t\tSure, it's crowded, it's dirty, it's noisy.\n\t\t\tAnd there are too many people who'd just as\n\t\t\tsoon step on your face as look at you.  But\n\t\t\tthere've got to be a few sparks of sweet\n\t\t\thumanity left in this burned-out burg.  We\n\t\t\tjust have to mobilize it.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWe need something that everyone can get\n\t\t\tbehind, a symbol --\n\nHis eyes fall on ECTO-2's New York State license plate which features a\nline drawing of the Statue of Liberty.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (he sees it, too)\n\t\t\tSomething that appeals to the best in each\n\t\t\tand every one of us --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tSomething good --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAnd pure --\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tAnd decent.\n\n<b>EXT.  THE STREET - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nThere is a commotion among the crowd as the Mayor's limousine arrives\nwith a police escort.  Jack Hardemeyer steps out followed by the Mayor\nhimself and they cross to the museum entrance.\n\nHardemeyer, his ASSISTANT and several police BODYGUARDS confront the\nGhostbusters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tLook, I've had it with you.  Get your stuff\n\t\t\ttogether, get back in that clown car and get\n\t\t\tout of here.  This is a city matter and\n\t\t\teverything's under control.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOh, you think so?  Well, I've got news for\n\t\t\tyou.  You've got Dracula's brother-in-law\n\t\t\tin there and he's got my girlfriend and her\n\t\t\tkid.  Around about midnight tonight, when\n\t\t\tyou're partying uptown, this guy's going to\n\t\t\tcome to life and start doing amateur head\n\t\t\ttransplants.  And that's just round one.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\tAre you telling me there're people trapped\n\t\t\tin there?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to his assistant)\n\t\t\tThis is dynamite.  Call A.P., U.P.I., and\n\t\t\tC.N.N. and get them down here right away.\n\t\t\tWhen the police bring this kid out I want\n\t\t\tthem to hand it right to the mayor and I\n\t\t\twant it all on camera.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tMr. Mayor, if we don't do something by\n\t\t\tmidnight, you're going to go down in history\n\t\t\tas the man who let New York get sucked down\n\t\t\tinto the tenth level of hell.\n\nThe Mayor stops to consider the situation.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to the Fire Captain)\n\t\t\tCan you get into that museum?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tFIRE CAPTAIN\n</b>\t\t\tIf I had a nuclear warhead, maybe.\n\nThe Mayor turns to Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\tYou know why all these things are happening?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWe tried to tell you last night, but Mr.\n\t\t\tHard-On over here packed us off to the loony\n\t\t\tbin.\n\nHardemeyer flips out.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\tThis is preposterous!  You can't seriously\n\t\t\tbelieve all this mumbo-jumbo!  It's the\n\t\t\tTwentieth Century, for crying out loud!\n\t\t\t\t (viciously, to Venkman)\n\t\t\tLook, mister, I don't know what this stuff\n\t\t\tis or how you got it all over the museum,\n\t\t\tbut you better get it off and I mean right\n\t\t\tnow!\n\nHe pounds the wall of slime with his fist, and they all watch in\namazement as his fist goes through the wall and he is sucked bodily\nthrough the slime curtain.  Only his shoes can be seen, embedded in the\nslime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Venkman)\n\t\t\tOkay, just tell me what you need.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  LIBERTY ISLAND (NEW YORK HARBOR) - NIGHT\n</b>\nWith the city skyline in the b.g., the Ghostbusters prepare their\nequipment.  Each of them dons a makeshift backpack consisting of tanks,\nhoses, nozzles and an abundance of gauges, valves and regulators.\nVenkman looks up at the Statue of Liberty looming above them.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tKind of makes you wonder, doesn't it?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tWonder what?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tIf she's naked under that toga.  She's\n\t\t\tFrench, you know.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tThere's nothing under that toga but 300 tons\n\t\t\tof iron and steel.\n\nStantz is looking worried.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI hope we have enough stuff to do the job.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOnly one way to find out.\n\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tReady, Teddy?\n\nThey enter the statue.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  STATUE OF LIBERTY - MOMENTS LATER\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters are working from the iron staircase that spirals\nstraight up 100 feet inside the hollow super-structure of the statue.\nSpengler and Winston are busy assembling hundreds of wires connected to\nvarious relays on the interior surface of the statue.  Venkman and Stantz\nare mounting large auditorium loudspeakers near the top of the staircase.\nThey finish the installation, then Stantz dons one of the new backpacks\nand gives the order.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, boys.  Let's frost it.\n\nThey begin hosing the inside of the statue with the psycho-reactive\nslime.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  FIREHOUSE - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nJanine watches as Louis, wearing a Ghostbuster uniform, slings a heavy\nproton pack onto his back.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tI'm not sure this is such a good idea?  Do\n\t\t\tthey know you're doing this?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOh, yeah, sure -- no.  But there's really\n\t\t\tnot much to do here and they might need\n\t\t\tsome back-up at the museum.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANINE\n</b>\t\t\tYou're very brave, Louis.  Good luck.\n\nShe kisses Louis and he gets extremely self-conscious.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tUh -- oh -- well, I better hurry.\n\nHe rushes out.\n\n<b>EXT  STREET OUTSIDE FIREHOUSE - NIGHT (LITTLE LATER)\n</b>\nLouis stands on the street corner waiting for a bus.  Finally, a bus\npulls up, Louis climbs aboard and finds Slimer behind the wheel.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  STATUE OF LIBERTY - OBSERVATION DECK - MOMENTS LATER\n</b>\nVenkman, Stantz, Spengler and Winston are standing in the observation\nwindows in the crown of the statue.  It looks like they're on the bridge\nof an ocean liner, then the CAMERA PULLS BACK to reveal the head of the\nstatue.\n\n<b>STANTZ\n</b>\nHe plugs the main cable lead into a transformer.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tIt's all yours, Pete.\n\t\t\t\t (checks his watch)\n\t\t\tThere's not much time left.\n\nVenkman plugs the speaker cable into a Walkman and gives a downbeat.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (giving the downbeat)\n\t\t\tOkay, one, two, three, four --\n\nHe hits \"Play\" on the Walkman and \"HIGHER AND HIGHER\" BOOMS from the huge\nSPEAKERS, amplified by the statue's vast hollow interior.\n\n<b>INT.  OBSERVATION DECK - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe head of the statue lurches suddenly, but the Ghostbusters cling to\nthe rail and manage to keep their feet.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tShe's moving!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tI've lived in New York all my life and I\n\t\t\tnever visited the Statue of Liberty.  Now I\n\t\t\tfinally get here and we're taking her out\n\t\t\tfor a walk.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (reading the Giga-meter)\n\t\t\tWe've got full power.\n\nStantz picks up a Nintendo control paddle from a home video game and\nstarts pushing the buttons.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (into a microphone)\n\t\t\tOkay, Libby.  Let's get it in gear.\n\nThey feel a strong vibration and the statue starts to move.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  SOUTH STREET SEAPORT - NIGHT\n</b>\nNew Years Eve celebrants line the riverfront, pointing and gawking at an\nincredible sight.\n\n<b>EXT.  EAST RIVER - THEIR POV - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe statue is moving up the river almost completely submerged, only her\nhead from the nose up is visible above the surface.\n\n<b>INT.  OBSERVATION DECK - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nWinston looks out apprehensively.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tHow deep does it get?  That water's cold and\n\t\t\tI can't swim.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tIt's okay.  I have my Senior Lifesaving card.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tWith a water temperature of forty degrees\n\t\t\twe'd survive approximately fifteen minutes.\n\nStantz studies a maritime navigational chart.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI'll keep to the middle of the channel.\n\t\t\tWe're okay to 59th Street, then we'll go\n\t\t\tashore and take First Avenue to 79th.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tAre you kidding?  We'll hit all that bridge\n\t\t\ttraffic at 59th.  I'm going to take 72nd\n\t\t\tstraight up to Fifth.  Trust me, I used to\n\t\t\tdrive a cab.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  RIVERFRONT - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nSpectators cheer wildly, inspired by the sight of the Statue.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM RESTORATION STUDIO - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nJanosz is sitting next to Dana, still wheedling her with promises and\nself-serving logic.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tTime is running out, Dana.  Soon it will be\n\t\t\tmidnight and the city will be mine -- and\n\t\t\tVigo's.  Well, mainly Vigo's.  But we have\n\t\t\ta spectacular opportunity to make the best\n\t\t\tof our relationship.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tWe don't have a relationship.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tI know.  Marry me, Dana, and together we\n\t\t\twill raise Vigo as our son.  There are many\n\t\t\tperks that come with being the mother of a\n\t\t\tliving god.  I'm sure he will supply for us\n\t\t\ta magnificent apartment.  And perhaps a car\n\t\t\tand free parking.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI hate and despise you and everything you\n\t\t\tstand for with all my heart and soul.  I\n\t\t\tcould never forgive what you've done to me\n\t\t\tand my child.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tMany marriages begin with a certain amount\n\t\t\tof distance, but after a while I believe we\n\t\t\tcould learn to love each other.  Think about\n\t\t\tit.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tI'd rather not.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  TIMES SQUARE - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nPeople are jammed together shoulder to shoulder filling Times Square,\nwatching the big Seiko clock count down the last ten minutes to midnight.\nSuddenly, they look down Broadway and see a magnificent sight.\n\n<b>EXT.  BROADWAY - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe Statue of Liberty is walking up Broadway approaching 42nd Street,\nwith \"Higher and Higher\" BOOMING from the SPEAKERS inside.  A great cheer\ngoes up, and the crowd goes wild with joy, dancing and singing along with\nthe MUSIC.\n\n<b>INT.  STATUE OF LIBERTY OBSERVATION DECK - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS)\n</b>\nSpengler reads the Giga-meter.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tIt's working.  The positive GeV's are\n\t\t\tclimbing.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (patting the Statue)\n\t\t\tThey love you, Lib.  Keep it up.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  FIFTH AVENUE - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nThe avenue has been closed to traffic and barricades placed, blocking all\nthe side streets.  A squadron of police motorcycles comes speeding around\nthe corner at 72nd Street and proceeds up Fifth Avenue in the direction\nof the museum.  Then MUSIC is heard BOOMING in the distance, the ground\nshakes and the Statue of Liberty comes walking around the corner onto\nFifth Avenue followed by a wildly cheering throng.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  OBSERVATION DECK - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters can see the museum ahead.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo far so good.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (worried)\n\t\t\tI'm worried.  The vibrations could shake her\n\t\t\tto pieces.  We should have padded her feet.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI don't think they make Nikes in her size.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWe're almost there, Lib.\n\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tStep on it.\n\n<b>EXT.  STREET - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe Statue's huge foot comes down and squashes a car.\n\n<b>INT.  OBSERVATION DECK - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters look down at the flattened car.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouts out the window)\n\t\t\tMy Fault!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (shouts)\n\t\t\tShe's new in town.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - RESTORATION STUDIO - SAME TIME\n</b>\nJanosz is painting the last of the mystical symbols on the baby's chest.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  TIMES SQUARE - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nThe people still in the square start counting off the last ten seconds to\nmidnight and the New Year.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tCROWD\n</b>\t\t\t\t (chanting)\n\t\t\tTen .. nine ... eight ... seven ...\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - PAINTING - NIGHT\n</b>\nA strange light spreads over the painting.  As the light moves onto his\nface, Vigo spreads his arms wide and his upper body starts to emerge from\nthe canvas.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVIGO\n</b>\t\t\tSoon my life begins.  Then woe to the weak,\n\t\t\tall power to me, the world is mine.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - JANOSZ - NIGHT\n</b>\nThe baby's body begins to glow as Vigo reaches out for it.  Then suddenly\na dark shadow falls across the skylight.  Janosz looks up.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - JANOSZ'S POV - SKYLIGHT - NIGHT\n</b>\nThe Statue of Liberty is looming over the skylight looking down on Janosz\nwith an expression of righteous anger on it's face.\n\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nKneeling beside the museum, the statue draws back it's mighty right arm\nand smashes the skylight with its torch.\n\n<b>INT.  RESTORATION STUDIO - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nJanosz retreats from the shower of broken glass as the Ghostbusters come\nsliding down ropes into the studio and confront Janosz with their new\nweapons.  Quick as a flash, Dana seizes the moment, dashes across the\nstudio and snatches the baby from Vigo's outstretched arms.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Janosz)\n\t\t\tHappy New Year.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - VIGO PAINTING - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nVigo bellows in rage.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - STUDIO - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS ACTION)\n</b>\nJanosz steps in front of the painting.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tHi there.  Feel free to try something stupid.\n\nJanosz sneers, trusting the invincibility of Vigo.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tYou pitiful, miserable creatures!  You dare\n\t\t\tto challenge the power of darkness?  Don't\n\t\t\tyou realize what you are dealing with?  He's\n\t\t\tVigo!  You are like the buzzing of flies to\n\t\t\thim.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (sighs)\n\t\t\tOh, Johnny.  Did you back the wrong horse.\n\nWith that, the Ghostbusters fire their slime-blowers and hose Janosz from\nhead to toe, blowing him into the corner.  Then they turn to Vigo.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nHe is now almost completely out of the painting, but still held from the\nknees down.  He spits and rages at the Ghostbusters, trying to unleash\nhis magic powers.\n\n<b>THE GHOSTBUSTERS\n</b>\nThey stand fast, secure in the knowledge that Vigo's power has been\nneutralized by the good will of the people.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tVigi, Vigi, Vigi -- you have been a bad\n\t\t\tlittle monkey.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThe whole city's together on this one.  We\n\t\t\ttook a vote.  Everybody's down on you, you\n\t\t\tknow.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (arming his slime-blower)\n\t\t\tSay goodnight now.\n\nSuddenly Vigo grabs Stantz by the neck and holds him up as a shield.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tDon't shoot!  You'll hit Ray!\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (strangling)\n\t\t\tDo it!  Just do it!\n\nWinston fires and hoses both Vigo and Ray.\n\n<b>VIGO\n</b>\nHe bellows and drops Ray, then falls back into the painting.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - PAINTING - NIGHT\n</b>\nThe paint turns liquid, melts off the canvas and runs onto the floor\nrevealing another painting underneath it.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - GHOSTBUSTERS - NIGHT (AFTER BATTLE)\n</b>\nVenkman, Spengler and Winston rush over to Ray and kneel beside him.  He\nis completely covered with slime and motionless.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (examining him)\n\t\t\tHe's breathing.\n\nWinston wipes the slime off Ray's face and Ray opens his eyes.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tRay -- Ray -- How do you feel, man?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (smiles lovingly)\n\t\t\tGroovy.  I've never felt better in my life.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tOh, no.  We've got to live with this?\n\nThey pull him to his feet.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tI love you guys.  You're the best friends\n\t\t\tI've ever had.\n\nHe hugs them each in turn, leaving them slimed as well.  Venkman recoils\nin disgust.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tHey, I just had this suit cleaned.\n\t\t\t\t (indicating Janosz)\n\t\t\tTake care of the wiggler, will you.\n\nVenkman crosses to Dana who is snuggling the baby.  She hugs Venkman.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tWhat is this -- a love in?\n\t\t\t\t (notes the symbols painted\n\t\t\t\t on the baby's body)\n\t\t\tHey, sailor.  I think the tattoos are a\n\t\t\tlittle much, don't you?\n\nHe picks up the baby.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Venkman)\n\t\t\tI think he likes you.  I think I do too.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tFinally came to your senses, huh?\n\nThey hug and kiss.\n\n<b>SPENGLER, WINSTON AND STANTZ\n</b>\nThey help Janosz to his feet.  He's dazed but unhurt.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (restored to normalcy)\n\t\t\tWhat happened?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (calmly)\n\t\t\tSir, you had a violent, prolonged,\n\t\t\ttransformative psychic episode.  But it's\n\t\t\tover now.  Want a coffee?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (extremely nice)\n\t\t\tThat's very kind of you.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tHe's fine, Ray.  Physically intact,\n\t\t\tpsychomagnetherically neutral.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tJANOSZ\n</b>\t\t\tIs that good?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tIt's where you want to be.\n\nAs they exit they stop to examine the painting that was concealed by\nVigo's self-portrait.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\tLate Renaissance, I think.  Caravaggio or\n\t\t\tBrunelleschi.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\t\t (staring at it)\n\t\t\tThere's something very familiar about this\n\t\t\tpainting.\n\n<b>INT.  MUSEUM - NEW PAINTING - NIGHT\n</b>\nIt's a beautiful painting in the high-Renaissance style depicting four\narchangels hovering protectively over a cherubic baby.  One holds a harp,\none, an olive branch, the third, a book, and the last, a sword.  Most\nremarkably, their faces bear an uncanny resemblance to Venkman, Stantz,\nSpengler and Winston.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  STREET - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nA city bus pulls up near the museum and Louis steps off.  He waves his\nthanks to Slimer who is behind the wheel.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Slimer)\n\t\t\tOkay, so Monday night we'll get something\n\t\t\tto eat and maybe go bowling?  Can you bowl\n\t\t\twith those little arms?\n\nSLIMER GRUNTS and SLOBBERS a reply, flexing his scrawny biceps.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tOkay, I have to go save Dana.  I'll see you\n\t\t\tlater.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. MUSEUM - NIGHT (LITTLE LATER)\n</b>\nThe Ghostbusters are greeted by wild cheering and applause as they come\nout the main entrance with Dana and the baby.  Everybody starts singing\n\"Auld Lang Syne.\"  Louis picks his way through the celebrating crowd and\nfinds the Ghostbusters.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tLOUIS\n</b>\t\t\tAm I too late?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tNo, you're right on time.\n\nStantz pops the cork on a bottle of champagne and hands it to him.\n\n<b>EXT.  MUSEUM ENTRANCE - NIGHT (SAME TIME)\n</b>\nHardemeyer staggers out of the museum covered in slime.  He looks at the\ncelebrating crowd and his eyes fill with tears.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tHARDEMEYER\n</b>\t\t\t\t (weepy)\n\t\t\tHappy New Year, everybody!\n\nHe joins in on \"Auld Lang Syne.\"\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t CUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT.  CENTRAL PARK - NIGHT (LATER)\n</b>\nThe Statue of Liberty is sprawled inert on her back in the park behind\nthe museum, her toga up over her knees.  The Mayor looks nearly suicidal.\nThe Ghostbusters stand beside him commiserating.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tShe's all right.  She's just sleeping it off.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\t\t (stricken)\n\t\t\tWe just had it restored.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tThis probably isn't a good time to bring\n\t\t\tthis up, but the last time we did a job for\n\t\t\tthe city you stiffed us.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t\t (handing the Mayor an\n\t\t\t\t invoice)\n\t\t\tThis is a bill for tonight's job.\n\nThe Mayor looks at it and gasps at the amount.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\t\tWhat!  This is way too much.\n\t\t\t\t (hands the bill back to\n\t\t\t\t Venkman)\n\t\t\tWe won't pay.\n\nVenkman looks at the Statue.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t\t (to Stantz)\n\t\t\tI think she looks pretty good here, don't\n\t\t\tyou?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tYeah, and a lot easier to get to than that island.\n\nRealizing he has no alternative, the Mayor sighs and takes the bill back.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tMAYOR\n</b>\t\tAll right, all right.  If you can wait until\n\t\tMonday I'll issue you a check.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\tSorry.  No checks.  Company policy.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tCUT TO:\n</b>\n<b>EXT. LIBERTY ISLAND - DAY (WEEKS LATER)\n</b>\nThe sun is shining brightly and Liberty is back on her pedestal where she\nbelongs.  The Mayor and a host of officials are commemorating her return.\nThe Ghostbusters, Dana, Janine and Louis are there as honored guests.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\t(looking up at the statue)\n\t\tPretty impressive, huh?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\t\t(musing)\n\t\tIt's probably the first thing my\n\t\tgrandparents saw when they came to this\n\t\tcountry.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\tFrom where -- Neptune?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tSPENGLER\n</b>\t\tThey came from Ostrov in Eastern Poland.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\tOstrov?  I've been there.  Good party town.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\t(in a similarly reflective\n\t\t\tmood)\n\t\tMy great-grandparents were Swiss.  I still\n\t\thave the pictures they took of the statue\n\t\tfrom the boat when they arrived.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\tOh, right, you told me that.  They came to\n\t\tAmerica seeking other kinds of cheese, as I\n\t\trecall.  How about you, Winston?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tWINSTON\n</b>\t\t\tMy people weren't taking any pictures from\n\t\t\tthose slave ships, man.  And there wasn't\n\t\t\tany Statue in Charleston Harbor to welcome\n\t\t\tthem, either.  What are you, Dana?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tMiss Blue Blood?  Her family's been here\n\t\t\tsince the year 12.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThat's not true.  It was 1620.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSame difference.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tSTANTZ\n</b>\t\t\tWhat's your story, Pete?\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tMe?  I'm a little of everything.  Some Irish,\n\t\t\tsome German, some French, Dutch -- the women\n\t\t\tin my family slept around.  And that's what\n\t\t\tmade this country great.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tDANA\n</b>\t\t\tThat's a terrible thing to say.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tVENKMAN\n</b>\t\t\tSo what?  It's a free country.\n\t\t\t\t (looking up at the Statue)\n\t\t\tThanks, Lib.\n\nThey all look up at the Statue.\n\n<b>EXT.  STATUE OF LIBERTY - HEAD OF STATUE - DAY\n</b>\nSlimer flies out one of the observation windows, THEME MUSIC KICKS IN and\nthe CAMERA PULLS UP and AWAY FROM the island TO a HIGH SHOT of the\nStatue, lower Manhattan and the shining sea beyond.\n\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tFADE OUT.\n</b>\n<b>\t\t\t\t\t\tTHE END\n</b>\n\nNow, answer the question based on the story asconcisely as you can, using a single phrase if possible. Do not provide any explanation.\n\nQuestion: Where does the slime attack Dana and Oscar?\n\nAnswer:"}
{"question_id": 138, "category": "longbench_narrativeqa", "reference": ["Radioactive gas"], "prompt": "You are given a story, which can be either a novel or a movie script, and a question. Answer the question asconcisely as you can, using a single phrase if possible. Do not provide any explanation.\n\nStory: Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nARMAGEDDON--2419 A.D.\n\n_By Philip Francis Nowlan_\n\n\n    _Here, once more, is a real scientifiction story plus. It is a story\n    which will make the heart of many readers leap with joy._\n\n    _We have rarely printed a story in this magazine that for scientific\n    interest, as well as suspense, could hold its own with this\n    particular story. We prophesy that this story will become more\n    valuable as the years go by. It certainly holds a number of\n    interesting prophecies, of which no doubt, many will come true. For\n    wealth of science, it will be hard to beat for some time to come. It\n    is one of those rare stories that will bear reading and re-reading\n    many times._\n\n    _This story has impressed us so favorably, that we hope the author\n    may be induced to write a sequel to it soon._\n\n\n\n\nForeword\n\n\nElsewhere I have set down, for whatever interest they have in this, the\n25th Century, my personal recollections of the 20th Century.\n\nNow it occurs to me that my memoirs of the 25th Century may have an\nequal interest 500 years from now--particularly in view of that unique\nperspective from which I have seen the 25th Century, entering it as I\ndid, in one leap across a gap of 492 years.\n\nThis statement requires elucidation. There are still many in the world\nwho are not familiar with my unique experience. Five centuries from now\nthere may be many more, especially if civilization is fated to endure\nany worse convulsions than those which have occurred between 1975 A.D.\nand the present time.\n\nI should state therefore, that I, Anthony Rogers, am, so far as I know,\nthe only man alive whose normal span of eighty-one years of life has\nbeen spread over a period of 573 years. To be precise, I lived the first\ntwenty-nine years of my life between 1898 and 1927; the other fifty-two\nsince 2419. The gap between these two, a period of nearly five hundred\nyears, I spent in a state of suspended animation, free from the ravages\nof katabolic processes, and without any apparent effect on my physical\nor mental faculties.\n\nWhen I began my long sleep, man had just begun his real conquest of the\nair in a sudden series of transoceanic flights in airplanes driven by\ninternal combustion motors. He had barely begun to speculate on the\npossibilities of harnessing sub-atomic forces, and had made no further\npractical penetration into the field of ethereal pulsations than the\nprimitive radio and television of that day. The United States of America\nwas the most powerful nation in the world, its political, financial,\nindustrial and scientific influence being supreme; and in the arts also\nit was rapidly climbing into leadership.\n\nI awoke to find the America I knew a total wreck--to find Americans a\nhunted race in their own land, hiding in the dense forests that covered\nthe shattered and leveled ruins of their once magnificent cities,\ndesperately preserving, and struggling to develop in their secret\nretreats, the remnants of their culture and science--and the undying\nflame of their sturdy independence.\n\nWorld domination was in the hands of Mongolians and the center of world\npower lay in inland China, with Americans one of the few races of\nmankind unsubdued--and it must be admitted in fairness to the truth, not\nworth the trouble of subduing in the eyes of the Han Airlords who ruled\nNorth America as titular tributaries of the Most Magnificent.\n\nFor they needed not the forests in which the Americans lived, nor the\nresources of the vast territories these forests covered. With the\nperfection to which they had reduced the synthetic production of\nnecessities and luxuries, their remarkable development of scientific\nprocesses and mechanical accomplishment of work, they had no economic\nneed for the forests, and no economic desire for the enslaved labor of\nan unruly race.\n\nThey had all they needed for their magnificently luxurious and degraded\nscheme of civilization, within the walls of the fifteen cities of\nsparkling glass they had flung skyward on the sites of ancient American\ncenters, into the bowels of the earth underneath them, and with\nrelatively small surrounding areas of agriculture.\n\nComplete domination of the air rendered communication between these\ncenters a matter of ease and safety. Occasional destructive raids on the\nwaste lands were considered all that was necessary to keep the \"wild\"\nAmericans on the run within the shelter of their forests, and prevent\ntheir becoming a menace to the Han civilization.\n\nBut nearly three hundred years of easily maintained security, the last\ncentury of which had been nearly sterile in scientific, social and\neconomic progress, had softened and devitalized the Hans.\n\nIt had likewise developed, beneath the protecting foliage of the forest,\nthe growth of a vigorous new American civilization, remarkable in the\nmobility and flexibility of its organization, in its conquest of almost\ninsuperable obstacles, in the development and guarding of its industrial\nand scientific resources, all in anticipation of that \"Day of Hope\" to\nwhich it had been looking forward for generations, when it would be\nstrong enough to burst from the green chrysalis of the forests, soar\ninto the upper air lanes and destroy the yellow incubus.\n\nAt the time I awoke, the \"Day of Hope\" was almost at hand. I shall not\nattempt to set forth a detailed history of the Second War of\nIndependence, for that has been recorded already by better historians\nthan I am. Instead I shall confine myself largely to the part I was\nfortunate enough to play in this struggle and in the events leading up\nto it.\n\n[Illustration: Seen upon the ultroscope viewplate, the battle looked as\nthough it were being fought in daylight, perhaps on a cloudy day, while\nthe explosions of the rockets appeared as flashes of extra brilliance.]\n\nIt all resulted from my interest in radioactive gases. During the latter\npart of 1927 my company, the American Radioactive Gas Corporation, had\nbeen keeping me busy investigating reports of unusual phenomena observed\nin certain abandoned coal mines near the Wyoming Valley, in\nPennsylvania.\n\nWith two assistants and a complete equipment of scientific instruments,\nI began the exploration of a deserted working in a mountainous district,\nwhere several weeks before, a number of mining engineers had reported\ntraces of carnotite[1] and what they believed to be radioactive gases.\nTheir report was not without foundation, it was apparent from the\noutset, for in our examination of the upper levels of the mine, our\ninstruments indicated a vigorous radioactivity.\n\n    [1] A hydrovanadate of uranium, and other metals; used as a source\n    of radium compounds.\n\nOn the morning of December 15th, we descended to one of the lowest\nlevels. To our surprise, we found no water there. Obviously it had\ndrained off through some break in the strata. We noticed too that the\nrock in the side walls of the shaft was soft, evidently due to the\nradioactivity, and pieces crumbled under foot rather easily. We made our\nway cautiously down the shaft, when suddenly the rotted timbers above us\ngave way.\n\nI jumped ahead, barely escaping the avalanche of coal and soft rock, but\nmy companions, who were several paces behind me, were buried under it,\nand undoubtedly met instant death.\n\nI was trapped. Return was impossible. With my electric torch I explored\nthe shaft to its end, but could find no other way out. The air became\nincreasingly difficult to breathe, probably from the rapid accumulation\nof the radioactive gas. In a little while my senses reeled and I lost\nconsciousness.\n\nWhen I awoke, there was a cool and refreshing circulation of air in the\nshaft. I had no thought that I had been unconscious more than a few\nhours, although it seems that the radioactive gas had kept me in a state\nof suspended animation for something like 500 years. My awakening, I\nfigured out later, had been due to some shifting of the strata which\nreopened the shaft and cleared the atmosphere in the working. This must\nhave been the case, for I was able to struggle back up the shaft over a\npile of debris, and stagger up the long incline to the mouth of the\nmine, where an entirely different world, overgrown with a vast forest\nand no visible sign of human habitation, met my eyes.\n\nI shall pass over the days of mental agony that followed in my attempt\nto grasp the meaning of it all. There were times when I felt that I was\non the verge of insanity. I roamed the unfamiliar forest like a lost\nsoul. Had it not been for the necessity of improvising traps and crude\nclubs with which to slay my food, I believe I should have gone mad.\n\nSuffice it to say, however, that I survived this psychic crisis. I shall\nbegin my narrative proper with my first contact with Americans of the\nyear 2419 A.D.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nFloating Men\n\n\nMy first glimpse of a human being of the 25th Century was obtained\nthrough a portion of woodland where the trees were thinly scattered,\nwith a dense forest beyond.\n\nI had been wandering along aimlessly, and hopelessly, musing over my\nstrange fate, when I noticed a figure that cautiously backed out of the\ndense growth across the glade. I was about to call out joyfully, but\nthere was something furtive about the figure that prevented me. The\nboy's attention (for it seemed to be a lad of fifteen or sixteen) was\ncentered tensely on the heavy growth of trees from which he had just\nemerged.\n\nHe was clad in rather tight-fitting garments entirely of green, and wore\na helmet-like cap of the same color. High around his waist he wore a\nbroad, thick belt, which bulked up in the back across the shoulders,\ninto something of the proportions of a knapsack.\n\nAs I was taking in these details, there came a vivid flash and heavy\ndetonation, like that of a hand grenade, not far to the left of him. He\nthrew up an arm and staggered a bit in a queer, gliding way; then he\nrecovered himself and slipped cautiously away from the place of the\nexplosion, crouching slightly, and still facing the denser part of the\nforest. Every few steps he would raise his arm, and point into the\nforest with something he held in his hand. Wherever he pointed there was\na terrific explosion, deeper in among the trees. It came to me then that\nhe was shooting with some form of pistol, though there was neither flash\nnor detonation from the muzzle of the weapon itself.\n\nAfter firing several times, he seemed to come to a sudden resolution,\nand turning in my general direction, leaped--to my amazement sailing\nthrough the air between the sparsely scattered trees in such a jump as I\nhad never in my life seen before. That leap must have carried him a full\nfifty feet, although at the height of his arc, he was not more than ten\nor twelve feet from the ground.\n\nWhen he alighted, his foot caught in a projecting root, and he sprawled\ngently forward. I say \"gently\" for he did not crash down as I expected\nhim to do. The only thing I could compare it with was a slow-motion\ncinema, although I had never seen one in which horizontal motions were\nregistered at normal speed and only the vertical movements were slowed\ndown.\n\nDue to my surprise, I suppose my brain did not function with its normal\nquickness, for I gazed at the prone figure for several seconds before I\nsaw the blood that oozed out from under the tight green cap. Regaining\nmy power of action, I dragged him out of sight back of the big tree. For\na few moments I busied myself in an attempt to staunch the flow of\nblood. The wound was not a deep one. My companion was more dazed than\nhurt. But what of the pursuers?\n\nI took the weapon from his grasp and examined it hurriedly. It was not\nunlike the automatic pistol to which I was accustomed, except that it\napparently fired with a button instead of a trigger. I inserted several\nfresh rounds of ammunition into its magazine from my companion's belt,\nas rapidly as I could, for I soon heard, near us, the suppressed\nconversation of his pursuers.\n\nThere followed a series of explosions round about us, but none very\nclose. They evidently had not spotted our hiding place, and were firing\nat random.\n\nI waited tensely, balancing the gun in my hand, to accustom myself to\nits weight and probable throw.\n\nThen I saw a movement in the green foliage of a tree not far away, and\nthe head and face of a man appeared. Like my companion, he was clad\nentirely in green, which made his figure difficult to distinguish. But\nhis face could be seen clearly. It was an evil face, and had murder in\nit.\n\nThat decided me. I raised the gun and fired. My aim was bad, for there\nwas no kick in the gun, as I had expected, and I hit the trunk of the\ntree several feet below him. It blew him from his perch like a crumpled\nbit of paper, and he _floated_ down to the ground, like some limp, dead\nthing, gently lowered by an invisible hand. The tree, its trunk blown\napart by the explosion, crashed down.\n\nThere followed another series of explosions around us. These guns we\nwere using made no sound in the firing, and my opponents were evidently\nas much at sea as to my position as I was to theirs. So I made no\nattempt to reply to their fire, contenting myself with keeping a sharp\nlookout in their general direction. And patience had its reward.\n\nVery soon I saw a cautious movement in the top of another tree. Exposing\nmyself as little as possible, I aimed carefully at the tree trunk and\nfired again. A shriek followed the explosion. I heard the tree crash\ndown; then a groan.\n\nThere was silence for a while. Then I heard a faint sound of boughs\nswishing. I shot three times in its direction, pressing the button as\nrapidly as I could. Branches crashed down where my shells had exploded,\nbut there was no body.\n\nThen I saw one of them. He was starting one of those amazing leaps from\nthe bough of one tree to another, about forty feet away.\n\nI threw up my gun impulsively and fired. By now I had gotten the feel of\nthe weapon, and my aim was good. I hit him. The \"bullet\" must have\npenetrated his body and exploded. For one moment I saw him flying\nthrough the air. Then the explosion, and he had vanished. He never\nfinished his leap. It was annihilation.\n\nHow many more of them there were I don't know. But this must have been\ntoo much for them. They used a final round of shells on us, all of which\nexploded harmlessly, and shortly after I heard them swishing and\ncrashing away from us through the tree tops. Not one of them descended\nto earth.\n\nNow I had time to give some attention to my companion. She was, I found,\na girl, and not a boy. Despite her bulky appearance, due to the peculiar\nbelt strapped around her body high up under the arms, she was very\nslender, and very pretty.\n\nThere was a stream not far away, from which I brought water and bathed\nher face and wound.\n\nApparently the mystery of these long leaps, the monkey-like ability to\njump from bough to bough, and of the bodies that floated gently down\ninstead of falling, lay in the belt. The thing was some sort of\nanti-gravity belt that almost balanced the weight of the wearer, thereby\ntremendously multiplying the propulsive power of the leg muscles, and\nthe lifting power of the arms.\n\nWhen the girl came to, she regarded me as curiously as I did her, and\npromptly began to quiz me. Her accent and intonation puzzled me a lot,\nbut nevertheless we were able to understand each other fairly well,\nexcept for certain words and phrases. I explained what had happened\nwhile she lay unconscious, and she thanked me simply for saving her\nlife.\n\n\"You are a strange exchange,\" she said, eying my clothing quizzically.\nEvidently she found it mirth provoking by contrast with her own neatly\nefficient garb. \"Don't you understand what I mean by 'exchange?' I mean\nah--let me see--a stranger, somebody from some other gang. What gang do\nyou belong to?\" (She pronounced it \"gan,\" with only a suspicion of a\nnasal sound.)\n\nI laughed. \"I'm not a gangster,\" I said. But she evidently did not\nunderstand this word. \"I don't belong to any gang,\" I explained, \"and\nnever did. Does everybody belong to a gang nowadays?\"\n\n\"Naturally,\" she said, frowning. \"If you don't belong to a gang, where\nand how do you live? Why have you not found and joined a gang? How do\nyou eat? Where do you get your clothing?\"\n\n\"I've been eating wild game for the past two weeks,\" I explained, \"and\nthis clothing I--er--ah--.\" I paused, wondering how I could explain that\nit must be many hundred years old.\n\nIn the end I saw I would have to tell my story as well as I could,\npiecing it together with my assumptions as to what had happened. She\nlistened patiently; incredulously at first, but with more confidence as\nI went on. When I had finished, she sat thinking for a long time.\n\n\"That's hard to believe,\" she said, \"but I believe it.\" She looked me\nover with frank interest.\n\n\"Were you married when you slipped into unconsciousness down in that\nmine?\" she asked me suddenly. I assured her I had never married. \"Well,\nthat simplifies matters,\" she continued. \"You see, if you were\ntechnically classed as a family man, I could take you back only as an\ninvited exchange and I, being unmarried, and no relation of yours,\ncouldn't do the inviting.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nThe Forest Gangs\n\n\nShe gave me a brief outline of the very peculiar social and economic\nsystem under which her people lived. At least it seemed very peculiar\nfrom my 20th Century viewpoint.\n\nI learned with amazement that exactly 492 years had passed over my head\nas I lay unconscious in the mine.\n\nWilma, for that was her name, did not profess to be a historian, and so\ncould give me only a sketchy outline of the wars that had been fought,\nand the manner in which such radical changes had come about. It seemed\nthat another war had followed the First World War, in which nearly all\nthe European nations had banded together to break the financial and\nindustrial power of America. They succeeded in their purpose, though\nthey were beaten, for the war was a terrific one, and left America, like\nthemselves, gasping, bleeding and disorganized, with only the hollow\nshell of a victory.\n\nThis opportunity had been seized by the Russian Soviets, who had made a\ncoalition with the Chinese, to sweep over all Europe and reduce it to a\nstate of chaos.\n\nAmerica, industrially geared to world production and the world trade,\ncollapsed economically, and there ensued a long period of stagnation and\ndesperate attempts at economic reconstruction. But it was impossible to\nstave off war with the Mongolians, who by now had subjugated the\nRussians, and were aiming at a world empire.\n\nIn about 2109, it seems, the conflict was finally precipitated. The\nMongolians, with overwhelming fleets of great airships, and a science\nthat far outstripped that of crippled America, swept in over the Pacific\nand Atlantic Coasts, and down from Canada, annihilating American\naircraft, armies and cities with their terrific _disintegrator_ rays.\nThese rays were projected from a machine not unlike a searchlight in\nappearance, the reflector of which, however, was not material substance,\nbut a complicated balance of interacting electronic forces. This\nresulted in a terribly destructive beam. Under its influence, material\nsubstance melted into \"nothingness\"; i. e., into electronic vibrations.\nIt destroyed all then known substances, from air to the most dense\nmetals and stone.\n\nThey settled down to the establishment of what became known as the Han\ndynasty in America, as a sort of province in their World Empire.\n\nThose were terrible days for the Americans. They were hunted like wild\nbeasts. Only those survived who finally found refuge in mountains,\ncanyons and forests. Government was at an end among them. Anarchy\nprevailed for several generations. Most would have been eager to submit\nto the Hans, even if it meant slavery. But the Hans did not want them,\nfor they themselves had marvelous machinery and scientific process by\nwhich all difficult labor was accomplished.\n\nUltimately they stopped their active search for, and annihilation of,\nthe widely scattered groups of now savage Americans. So long as they\nremained hidden in their forests, and did not venture near the great\ncities the Hans had built, little attention was paid to them.\n\nThen began the building of the new American civilization. Families and\nindividuals gathered together in clans or \"gangs\" for mutual protection.\nFor nearly a century they lived a nomadic and primitive life, moving\nfrom place to place, in desperate fear of the casual and occasional Han\nair raids, and the terrible disintegrator ray. As the frequency of these\nraids decreased, they began to stay permanently in given localities,\norganizing upon lines which in many respects were similar to those of\nthe military households of the Norman feudal barons, except that instead\nof gathering together in castles, their defense tactics necessitated a\ncertain scattering of living quarters for families and individuals. They\nlived virtually in the open air, in the forests, in green tents,\nresorting to camouflage tactics that would conceal their presence from\nair observers. They dug underground factories and laboratories, that\nthey might better be shielded from the electrical detectors of the\nHans. They tapped the radio communication lines of the Hans, with crude\ninstruments at first; better ones later on. They bent every effort\ntoward the redevelopment of science. For many generations they labored\nas unseen, unknown scholars of the Hans, picking up their knowledge\npiecemeal, as fast as they were able to.\n\nDuring the earlier part of this period, there were many deadly wars\nfought between the various gangs, and occasional courageous but\nchildishly futile attacks upon the Hans, followed by terribly punitive\nraids.\n\nBut as knowledge progressed, the sense of American brotherhood\nredeveloped. Reciprocal arrangements were made among the gangs over\nconstantly increasing areas. Trade developed to a certain extent, as\nbetween one gang and another. But the interchange of knowledge became\nmore important than that of goods, as skill in the handling of synthetic\nprocesses developed.\n\nWithin the gang, an economy was developed that was a compromise between\nindividual liberty and a military socialism. The right of private\nproperty was limited practically to personal possessions, but private\nprivileges were many, and sacredly regarded. Stimulation to achievement\nlay chiefly in the winning of various kinds of leadership and\nprerogatives, and only in a very limited degree in the hope of owning\nanything that might be classified as \"wealth,\" and nothing that might be\nclassified as \"resources.\" Resources of every description, for military\nsafety and efficiency, belonged as a matter of public interest to the\ncommunity as a whole.\n\nIn the meantime, through these many generations, the Hans had developed\na luxury economy, and with it the perfection of gilded vice and\ndegradation. The Americans were regarded as \"wild men of the woods.\" And\nsince they neither needed nor wanted the woods or the wild men, they\ntreated them as beasts, and were conscious of no human brotherhood with\nthem. As time went on, and synthetic processes of producing foods and\nmaterials were further developed, less and less ground was needed by the\nHans for the purposes of agriculture, and finally, even the working of\nmines was abandoned when it became cheaper to build up metal from\nelectronic vibrations than to dig them out of the ground.\n\nThe Han race, devitalized by its vices and luxuries, with machinery and\nscientific processes to satisfy its every want, with virtually no\nnecessity of labor, began to assume a defensive attitude toward the\nAmericans.\n\nAnd quite naturally, the Americans regarded the Hans with a deep, grim\nhatred. Conscious of individual superiority as men, knowing that\nlatterly they were outstripping the Hans in science and civilization,\nthey longed desperately for the day when they should be powerful enough\nto rise and annihilate the Yellow Blight that lay over the continent.\n\nAt the time of my awakening, the gangs were rather loosely organized,\nbut were considering the establishment of a special military force,\nwhose special business it would be to harry the Hans and bring down\ntheir air ships whenever possible without causing general alarm among\nthe Mongolians. This force was destined to become the nucleus of the\nnational force, when the Day of Retribution arrived. But that, however,\ndid not happen for ten years, and is another story.\n\n[Illustration: On the left of the illustration is a Han girl, and on the\nright is an American girl, who, like all of her race, is equipped with\nan inertron belt and a rocket gun.]\n\nWilma told me she was a member of the Wyoming Gang, which claimed the\nentire Wyoming Valley as its territory, under the leadership of Boss\nHart. Her mother and father were dead, and she was unmarried, so she was\nnot a \"family member.\" She lived in a little group of tents known as\nCamp 17, under a woman Camp Boss, with seven other girls.\n\nHer duties alternated between military or police scouting and factory\nwork. For the two-week period which would end the next day, she had been\non \"air patrol.\" This did not mean, as I first imagined, that she was\nflying, but rather that she was on the lookout for Han ships over this\noutlying section of the Wyoming territory, and had spent most of her\ntime perched in the tree tops scanning the skies. Had she seen one she\nwould have fired a \"drop flare\" several miles off to one side, which\nwould ignite when it was floating vertically toward the earth, so that\nthe direction or point from which it had been fired might not be guessed\nby the airship and bring a blasting play of the disintegrator ray in her\nvicinity. Other members of the air patrol would send up rockets on\nseeing hers, until finally a scout equipped with an ultrophone, which,\nunlike the ancient radio, operated on the ultronic ethereal vibrations,\nwould pass the warning simultaneously to the headquarters of the Wyoming\nGang and other communities within a radius of several hundred miles, not\nto mention the few American rocket ships that might be in the air, and\nwhich instantly would duck to cover either through forest clearings or\nby flattening down to earth in green fields where their coloring would\nprobably protect them from observation. The favorite American method of\npropulsion was known as \"_rocketing_.\" The _rocket_ is what I would\ndescribe, from my 20th Century comprehension of the matter, as an\nextremely powerful gas blast, atomically produced through the\nstimulation of chemical action. Scientists of today regard it as a\nchildishly simple reaction, but by that very virtue, most economical and\nefficient.\n\nBut tomorrow, she explained, she would go back to work in the cloth\nplant, where she would take charge of one of the synthetic processes by\nwhich those wonderful substitutes for woven fabrics of wool, cotton and\nsilk are produced. At the end of another two weeks, she would be back on\nmilitary duty again, perhaps at the same work, or maybe as a \"contact\nguard,\" on duty where the territory of the Wyomings merged with that of\nthe Delawares, or the \"Susquannas\" (Susquehannas) or one of the half\ndozen other \"gangs\" in that section of the country which I knew as\nPennsylvania and New York States.\n\nWilma cleared up for me the mystery of those flying leaps which she and\nher assailants had made, and explained in the following manner, how the\ninertron belt balances weight:\n\n\"_Jumpers_\" were in common use at the time I \"awoke,\" though they were\ncostly, for at that time _inertron_ had not been produced in very great\nquantity. They were very useful in the forest. They were belts,\nstrapped high under the arms, containing an amount of inertron adjusted\nto the wearer's weight and purposes. In effect they made a man weigh as\nlittle as he desired; two pounds if he liked.\n\n\"_Floaters_\" are a later development of \"_jumpers_\"--rocket motors\nencased in _inertron_ blocks and strapped to the back in such a way that\nthe wearer floats, when drifting, facing slightly downward. With his\nmotor in operation, he moves like a diver, headforemost, controlling his\ndirection by twisting his body and by movements of his outstretched arms\nand hands. Ballast weights locked in the front of the belt adjust weight\nand lift. Some men prefer a few ounces of weight in floating, using a\nslight motor thrust to overcome this. Others prefer a buoyance balance\nof a few ounces. The inadvertent dropping of weight is not a serious\nmatter. The motor thrust always can be used to descend. But as an extra\nprecaution, in case the motor should fail, for any reason, there are\nbuilt into every belt a number of detachable sections, one or more of\nwhich can be discarded to balance off any loss in weight.\n\n\"But who were your assailants,\" I asked, \"and why were you attacked?\"\n\nHer assailants, she told me, were members of an outlaw gang, referred to\nas \"Bad Bloods,\" a group which for several generations had been under\nthe domination of conscienceless leaders who tried to advance the\ninterests of their clan by tactics which their neighbors had come to\nregard as unfair, and who in consequence had been virtually boycotted.\nTheir purpose had been to slay her near the Delaware frontier, making it\nappear that the crime had been committed by Delaware scouts and thus\nembroil the Delawares and Wyomings in acts of reprisal against each\nother, or at least cause suspicions.\n\nFortunately they had not succeeded in surprising her, and she had been\nsuccessful in dodging them for some two hours before the shooting began,\nat the moment when I arrived on the scene.\n\n\"But we must not stay here talking,\" Wilma concluded. \"I have to take\nyou in, and besides I must report this attack right away. I think we had\nbetter slip over to the other side of the mountain. Whoever is on that\npost will have a phone, and I can make a direct report. But you'll have\nto have a belt. Mine alone won't help much against our combined weights,\nand there's little to be gained by jumping heavy. It's almost as bad as\nwalking.\"\n\nAfter a little search, we found one of the men I had killed, who had\nfloated down among the trees some distance away and whose belt was not\nbadly damaged. In detaching it from his body, it nearly got away from me\nand shot up in the air. Wilma caught it, however, and though it\nreinforced the lift of her own belt so that she had to hook her knee\naround a branch to hold herself down, she saved it. I climbed the tree\nand, with my weight added to hers, we floated down easily.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nLife in the 25th Century\n\n\nWe were delayed in starting for quite a while since I had to acquire a\nfew crude ideas about the technique of using these belts. I had been\nsitting down, for instance, with the belt strapped about me, enjoying an\nease similar to that of a comfortable armchair; when I stood up with a\nnatural exertion of muscular effort, I shot ten feet into the air, with\na wild instinctive thrashing of arms and legs that amused Wilma greatly.\n\nBut after some practice, I began to get the trick of gauging muscular\neffort to a minimum of vertical and a maximum of horizontal. The correct\nform, I found, was in a measure comparable to that of skating. I found,\nalso, that in forest work particularly the arms and hands could be used\nto great advantage in swinging along from branch to branch, so\nprolonging leaps almost indefinitely at times.\n\nIn going up the side of the mountain, I found that my 20th Century\nmuscles did have an advantage, in spite of lack of skill with the belt,\nand since the slopes were very sharp, and most of our leaps were upward,\nI could have distanced Wilma easily. But when we crossed the ridge and\ndescended, she outstripped me with her superior technique. Choosing the\nsteepest slopes, she would crouch in the top of a tree, and propel\nherself outward, literally diving until, with the loss of horizontal\nmomentum, she would assume a more upright position and float downward.\nIn this manner she would sometimes cover as much as a quarter of a mile\nin a single leap, while I leaped and scrambled clumsily behind,\nthoroughly enjoying the novel sensation.\n\nHalf way down the mountain, we saw another green-clad figure leap out\nabove the tree tops toward us. The three of us perched on an outcropping\nof rock from which a view for many miles around could be had, while\nWilma hastily explained her adventure and my presence to her fellow\nguard; whose name was Alan. I learned later that this was the modern\nform of Helen.\n\n\"You want to report by phone then, don't you?\" Alan took a compact\npacket about six inches square from a holster attached to her belt and\nhanded it to Wilma.\n\nSo far as I could see, it had no special receiver for the ear. Wilma\nmerely threw back a lid, as though she were opening a book, and began to\ntalk. The voice that came back from the machine was as audible as her\nown.\n\nShe was queried closely as to the attack upon her, and at considerable\nlength as to myself, and I could tell from the tone of that voice that\nits owner was not prepared to take me at my face value as readily as\nWilma had. For that matter, neither was the other girl. I could realize\nit from the suspicious glances she threw my way, when she thought my\nattention was elsewhere, and the manner in which her hand hovered\nconstantly near her gun holster.\n\nWilma was ordered to bring me in at once, and informed that another\nscout would take her place on the other side of the mountain. So she\nclosed down the lid of the phone and handed it back to Alan, who seemed\nrelieved to see us departing over the tree tops in the direction of the\ncamps.\n\nWe had covered perhaps ten miles, in what still seemed to me a\nsurprisingly easy fashion, when Wilma explained, that from here on we\nwould have to keep to the ground. We were nearing the camps, she said,\nand there was always the possibility that some small Han scoutship,\ninvisible high in the sky, might catch sight of us through a\nprojectoscope and thus find the general location of the camps.\n\nWilma took me to the Scout office, which proved to be a small building\nof irregular shape, conforming to the trees around it, and substantially\nconstructed of green sheet-like material.\n\nI was received by the assistant Scout Boss, who reported my arrival at\nonce to the historical office, and to officials he called the Psycho\nBoss and the History Boss, who came in a few minutes later. The attitude\nof all three men was at first polite but skeptical, and Wilma's ardent\nadvocacy seemed to amuse them secretly.\n\nFor the next two hours I talked, explained and answered questions. I had\nto explain, in detail, the manner of my life in the 20th Century and my\nunderstanding of customs, habits, business, science and the history of\nthat period, and about developments in the centuries that had elapsed.\nHad I been in a classroom, I would have come through the examination\nwith a very poor mark, for I was unable to give any answer to fully half\nof their questions. But before long I realized that the majority of\nthese questions were designed as traps. Objects, of whose purpose I knew\nnothing, were casually handed to me, and I was watched keenly as I\nhandled them.\n\nIn the end I could see both amazement and belief begin to show in the\nfaces of my inquisitors, and at last the Historical and Psycho Bosses\nagreed openly that they could find no flaw in my story or reactions, and\nthat unbelievable as it seemed, my story must be accepted as genuine.\n\nThey took me at once to Big Boss Hart. He was a portly man with a \"poker\nface.\" He would probably have been the successful politician even in the\n20th Century.\n\nThey gave him a brief outline of my story and a report of their\nexamination of me. He made no comment other than to nod his acceptance\nof it. Then he turned to me.\n\n\"How does it feel?\" he asked. \"Do we look funny to you?\"\n\n\"A bit strange,\" I admitted. \"But I'm beginning to lose that dazed\nfeeling, though I can see I have an awful lot to learn.\"\n\n\"Maybe we can learn some things from you, too,\" he said. \"So you fought\nin the First World War. Do you know, we have very little left in the way\nof records of the details of that war, that is, the precise conditions\nunder which it was fought, and the tactics employed. We forgot many\nthings during the Han terror, and--well, I think you might have a lot of\nideas worth thinking over for our raid masters. By the way, now that\nyou're here, and can't go back to your own century, so to speak, what do\nyou want to do? You're welcome to become one of us. Or perhaps you'd\njust like to visit with us for a while, and then look around among the\nother gangs. Maybe you'd like some of the others better. Don't make up\nyour mind now. We'll put you down as an exchange for a while. Let's see.\nYou and Bill Hearn ought to get along well together. He's Camp Boss of\nNumber 34 when he isn't acting as Raid Boss or Scout Boss. There's a\nvacancy in his camp. Stay with him and think things over as long as you\nwant to. As soon as you make up your mind to anything, let me know.\"\n\nWe all shook hands, for that was one custom that had not died out in\nfive hundred years, and I set out with Bill Hearn.\n\nBill, like all the others, was clad in green. He was a big man. That is,\nhe was about my own height, five feet eleven. This was considerably\nabove the average now, for the race had lost something in stature, it\nseemed, through the vicissitudes of five centuries. Most of the women\nwere a bit below five feet, and the men only a trifle above this height.\n\nFor a period of two weeks Bill was to confine himself to camp duties, so\nI had a good chance to familiarize myself with the community life. It\nwas not easy. There were so many marvels to absorb. I never ceased to\nwonder at the strange combination of rustic social life and feverish\nindustrial activity. At least, it was strange to me. For in my\nexperience, industrial development meant crowded cities, tenements,\npaved streets, profusion of vehicles, noise, hurrying men and women with\nstrained or dull faces, vast structures and ornate public works.\n\nHere, however, was rustic simplicity, apparently isolated families and\ngroups, living in the heart of the forest, with a quarter of a mile or\nmore between households, a total absence of crowds, no means of\nconveyance other than the belts called jumpers, almost constantly worn\nby everybody, and an occasional rocket ship, used only for longer\njourneys, and underground plants or factories that were to my mind more\nlike laboratories and engine rooms; many of them were excavations as\ndeep as mines, with well finished, lighted and comfortable interiors.\nThese people were adepts at camouflage against air observation. Not only\nwould their activity have been unsuspected by an airship passing over\nthe center of the community, but even by an enemy who might happen to\ndrop through the screen of the upper branches to the floor of the\nforest. The camps, or household structures, were all irregular in shape\nand of colors that blended with the great trees among which they were\nhidden.\n\nThere were 724 dwellings or \"camps\" among the Wyomings, located within\nan area of about fifteen square miles. The total population was 8,688,\nevery man, woman and child, whether member or \"exchange,\" being listed.\n\nThe plants were widely scattered through the territory also. Nowhere was\nanything like congestion permitted. So far as possible, families and\nindividuals were assigned to living quarters, not too far from the\nplants or offices in which their work lay.\n\nAll able-bodied men and women alternated in two-week periods between\nmilitary and industrial service, except those who were needed for\nhousehold work. Since working conditions in the plants and offices were\nideal, and everybody thus had plenty of healthy outdoor activity in\naddition, the population was sturdy and active. Laziness was regarded as\nnearly the greatest of social offenses. Hard work and general merit were\nvariously rewarded with extra privileges, advancement to positions of\nauthority, and with various items of personal equipment for convenience\nand luxury.\n\nIn leisure moments, I got great enjoyment from sitting outside the\ndwelling in which I was quartered with Bill Hearn and ten other men,\nwatching the occasional passers-by, as with leisurely, but swift\nmovements, they swung up and down the forest trail, rising from the\nground in long almost-horizontal leaps, occasionally swinging from one\nconvenient branch overhead to another before \"sliding\" back to the\nground farther on. Normal traveling pace, where these trails were\nstraight enough, was about twenty miles an hour. Such things as\nautomobiles and railroad trains (the memory of them not more than a\nmonth old in my mind) seemed inexpressibly silly and futile compared\nwith such convenience as these belts or jumpers offered.\n\nBill suggested that I wander around for several days, from plant to\nplant, to observe and study what I could. The entire community had been\napprised of my coming, my rating as an \"exchange\" reaching every\nbuilding and post in the community, by means of ultronic broadcast.\nEverywhere I was welcomed in an interested and helpful spirit.\n\nI visited the plants where ultronic vibrations were isolated from the\nether and through slow processes built up into sub-electronic,\nelectronic and atomic forms into the two great synthetic elements,\nultron and inertron. I learned something, superficially at least, of the\nprocesses of combined chemical and mechanical action through which were\nproduced the various forms of synthetic cloth. I watched the manufacture\nof the machines which were used at locations of construction to produce\nthe various forms of building materials. But I was particularly\ninterested in the munitions plants and the rocket-ship shops.\n\nUltron is a solid of great molecular density and moderate elasticity,\nwhich has the property of being 100 percent conductive to those\npulsations known as light, electricity and heat. Since it is completely\npermeable to light vibrations, it is therefore _absolutely invisible and\nnon-reflective_. Its magnetic response is almost, but not quite, 100\npercent also. It is therefore very heavy under normal conditions but\nextremely responsive to the _repellor_ or anti-gravity rays, such as the\nHans use as \"_legs_\" for their airships.\n\nInertron is the second great triumph of American research and\nexperimentation with ultronic forces. It was developed just a few years\nbefore my awakening in the abandoned mine. It is a synthetic element,\nbuilt up, through a complicated heterodyning of ultronic pulsations,\nfrom \"infra-balanced\" sub-ionic forms. It is completely inert to both\nelectric and magnetic forces in all the orders above the _ultronic_;\nthat is to say, the _sub-electronic_, the _electronic_, the _atomic_ and\nthe _molecular_. In consequence it has a number of amazing and\nvaluable properties. One of these is _the total lack of weight_. Another\nis a total lack of heat. It has no molecular vibration whatever. It\nreflects 100 percent of the heat and light impinging upon it. It does\nnot feel cold to the touch, of course, since it will not absorb the heat\nof the hand. It is a solid, very dense in molecular structure despite\nits lack of weight, of great strength and considerable elasticity. It is\na perfect shield against the disintegrator rays.\n\n[Illustration: Setting his rocket gun for a long-distance shot.]\n\nRocket guns are very simple contrivances so far as the mechanism of\nlaunching the bullet is concerned. They are simple light tubes, closed\nat the rear end, with a trigger-actuated pin for piercing the thin skin\nat the base of the cartridge. This piercing of the skin starts the\nchemical and atomic reaction. The entire cartridge leaves the tube under\nits own power, at a very easy initial velocity, just enough to insure\naccuracy of aim; so the tube does not have to be of heavy construction.\nThe bullet increases in velocity as it goes. It may be solid or\nexplosive. It may explode on contact or on time, or a combination of\nthese two.\n\nBill and I talked mostly of weapons, military tactics and strategy.\nStrangely enough he had no idea whatever of the possibilities of the\nbarrage, though the tremendous effect of a \"curtain of fire\" with such\nhigh-explosive projectiles as these modern rocket guns used was obvious\nto me. But the barrage idea, it seemed, has been lost track of\ncompletely in the air wars that followed the First World War, and in the\npeculiar guerilla tactics developed by Americans in the later period of\noperations from the ground against Han airships, and in the gang wars\nwhich, until a few generations ago I learned, had been almost\ncontinuous.\n\n\"I wonder,\" said Bill one day, \"if we couldn't work up some form of\nbarrage to spring on the Bad Bloods. The Big Boss told me today that\nhe's been in communication with the other gangs, and all are agreed that\nthe Bad Bloods might as well be wiped out for good. That attempt on\nWilma Deering's life and their evident desire to make trouble among the\ngangs, has stirred up every community east of the Alleghenies. The Boss\nsays that none of the others will object if we go after them. So I\nimagine that before long we will. Now show me again how you worked that\nbusiness in the Argonne forest. The conditions ought to be pretty much\nthe same.\"\n\nI went over it with him in detail, and gradually we worked out a\nmodified plan that would be better adapted to our more powerful weapons,\nand the use of jumpers.\n\n\"It will be easy,\" Bill exulted. \"I'll slide down and talk it over with\nthe Boss tomorrow.\"\n\nDuring the first two weeks of my stay with the Wyomings, Wilma Deering\nand I saw a great deal of each other. I naturally felt a little closer\nfriendship for her, in view of the fact that she was the first human\nbeing I saw after waking from my long sleep; her appreciation of my\nsaving her life, though I could not have done otherwise than I did in\nthat matter, and most of all my own appreciation of the fact that she\nhad not found it as difficult as the others to believe my story,\noperated in the same direction. I could easily imagine my story must\nhave sounded incredible.\n\nIt was natural enough too, that she should feel an unusual interest in\nme. In the first place, I was her personal discovery. In the second, she\nwas a girl of studious and reflective turn of mind. She never got tired\nof my stories and descriptions of the 20th Century.\n\nThe others of the community, however, seemed to find our friendship a\nbit amusing. It seemed that Wilma had a reputation for being cold toward\nthe opposite sex, and so others, not being able to appreciate some of\nher fine qualities as I did, misinterpreted her attitude, much to their\nown delight. Wilma and I, however, ignored this as much as we could.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nA Han Air Raid\n\n\nThere was a girl in Wilma's camp named Gerdi Mann, with whom Bill Hearn\nwas desperately in love, and the four of us used to go around a lot\ntogether. Gerdi was a distinct type. Whereas Wilma had the usual dark\nbrown hair and hazel eyes that marked nearly every member of the\ncommunity, Gerdi had red hair, blue eyes and very fair skin. She has\nbeen dead many years now, but I remember her vividly because she was a\nthrowback in physical appearance to a certain 20th Century type which I\nhave found very rare among modern Americans; also because the four of us\nwere engaged one day in a discussion of this very point, when I obtained\nmy first experience of a Han air raid.\n\nWe were sitting high on the side of a hill overlooking the valley that\nteemed with human activity, invisible beneath its blanket of foliage.\n\nThe other three, who knew of the Irish but vaguely and indefinitely, as\na race on the other side of the globe, which, like ourselves, had\nsucceeded in maintaining a precarious and fugitive existence in\nrebellion against the Mongolian domination of the earth, were listening\nwith interest to my theory that Gerdi's ancestors of several hundred\nyears ago must have been Irish. I explained that Gerdi was an Irish\ntype, evidently a throwback, and that her surname might well have been\nMcMann, or McMahan, and still more anciently \"mac Mathghamhain.\" They\nwere interested too in my surmise that \"Gerdi\" was the same name as that\nwhich had been \"Gerty\" or \"Gertrude\" in the 20th Century.\n\nIn the middle of our discussion, we were startled by an alarm rocket\nthat burst high in the air, far to the north, spreading a pall of red\nsmoke that drifted like a cloud. It was followed by others at scattered\npoints in the northern sky.\n\n\"A Han raid!\" Bill exclaimed in amazement. \"The first in seven years!\"\n\n\"Maybe it's just one of their ships off its course,\" I ventured.\n\n\"No,\" said Wilma in some agitation. \"That would be green rockets. Red\nmeans only one thing, Tony. They're sweeping the countryside with their\ndis beams. Can you see anything, Bill?\"\n\n\"We had better get under cover,\" Gerdi said nervously. \"The four of us\nare bunched here in the open. For all we know they may be twelve miles\nup, out of sight, yet looking at us with a projecto'.\"\n\nBill had been sweeping the horizon hastily with his glass, but\napparently saw nothing.\n\n\"We had better scatter, at that,\" he said finally. \"It's orders, you\nknow. See!\" He pointed to the valley.\n\nHere and there a tiny human figure shot for a moment above the foliage\nof the treetops.\n\n\"That's bad,\" Wilma commented, as she counted the jumpers. \"No less than\nfifteen people visible, and all clearly radiating from a central point.\nDo they want to give away our location?\"\n\nThe standard orders covering air raids were that the population was to\nscatter individually. There should be no grouping, or even pairing, in\nview of the destructiveness of the disintegrator rays. Experience of\ngenerations had proved that if this were done, and everybody remained\nhidden beneath the tree screens, the Hans would have to sweep mile after\nmile of territory, foot by foot, to catch more than a small percentage\nof the community.\n\nGerdi, however, refused to leave Bill, and Wilma developed an equal\nobstinacy against quitting my side. I was inexperienced at this sort of\nthing, she explained, quite ignoring the fact that she was too; she was\nonly thirteen or fourteen years old at the time of the last air raid.\n\nHowever, since I could not argue her out of it, we leaped together about\na quarter of a mile to the right, while Bill and Gerdi disappeared down\nthe hillside among the trees.\n\nWilma and I both wanted a point of vantage from which we might overlook\nthe valley and the sky to the north, and we found it near the top of the\nridge, where, protected from visibility by thick branches, we could look\nout between the tree trunks, and get a good view of the valley.\n\nNo more rockets went up. Except for a few of those warning red clouds,\ndrifting lazily in a blue sky, there was no visible indication of man's\npast or present existence anywhere in the sky or on the ground.\n\nThen Wilma gripped my arm and pointed. I saw it; away off in the\ndistance; looking like a phantom dirigible airship, in its coat of\nlow-visibility paint, a bare spectre.\n\n\"Seven thousand feet up,\" Wilma whispered, crouching close to me.\n\"Watch.\"\n\nThe ship was about the same shape as the great dirigibles of the 20th\nCentury that I had seen, but without the suspended control car, engines,\npropellors, rudders or elevating planes. As it loomed rapidly nearer, I\nsaw that it was wider and somewhat flatter than I had supposed.\n\nNow I could see the repellor rays that held the ship aloft, like\nsearchlight beams faintly visible in the bright daylight (and still\nfaintly visible to the human eye at night). Actually, I had been\ninformed by my instructors, there were two rays; the visible one\ngenerated by the ship's apparatus, and directed toward the ground as a\nbeam of \"carrier\" impulses; and the true repellor ray, the complement of\nthe other in one sense, induced by the action of the \"carrier\" and\nreacting in a concentrating upward direction from the mass of the earth,\nbecoming successively electronic, atomic and finally molecular, in its\nnature, according to various ratios of distance between earth mass and\n\"carrier\" source, until, in the last analysis, the ship itself actually\nis supported on an upward rushing column of air, much like a ball\ncontinuously supported on a fountain jet.\n\nThe raider neared with incredible speed. Its rays were both slanted\nastern at a sharp angle, so that it slid forward with tremendous\nmomentum.\n\nThe ship was operating two disintegrator rays, though only in a casual,\nintermittent fashion. But whenever they flashed downward with blinding\nbrilliancy, forest, rocks and ground melted instantaneously into\nnothing, where they played upon them.\n\nWhen later I inspected the scars left by these rays I found them some\nfive feet deep and thirty feet wide, the exposed surfaces being\nlava-like in texture, but of a pale, iridescent, greenish hue.\n\nNo systematic use of the rays was made by the ship, however, until it\nreached a point over the center of the valley--the center of the\ncommunity's activities. There it came to a sudden stop by shooting its\nrepellor beams sharply forward and easing them back gradually to the\nvertical, holding the ship floating and motionless. Then the work of\ndestruction began systematically.\n\nBack and forth traveled the destroying rays, ploughing parallel furrows\nfrom hillside to hillside. We gasped in dismay, Wilma and I, as time\nafter time we saw it plough through sections where we knew camps or\nplants were located.\n\n\"This is awful,\" she moaned, a terrified question in her eyes. \"How\ncould they know the location so exactly, Tony? Did you see? They were\nnever in doubt. They stalled at a predetermined spot--and--and it was\nexactly the right spot.\"\n\nWe did not talk of what might happen if the rays were turned in our\ndirection. We both knew. We would simply disintegrate in a split second\ninto mere scattered electronic vibrations. Strangely enough, it was this\nself-reliant girl of the 25th Century, who clung to me, a relatively\nprimitive man of the 20th, less familiar than she with the thought of\nthis terrifying possibility, for moral support.\n\nWe knew that many of our companions must have been whisked into absolute\nnon-existence before our eyes in these few moments. The whole thing\nparalyzed us into mental and physical immobility for I do not know how\nlong.\n\nIt couldn't have been long, however, for the rays had not ploughed more\nthan thirty of their twenty-foot furrows or so across the valley, when I\nregained control of myself, and brought Wilma to herself by shaking her\nroughly.\n\n\"How far will this rocket gun shoot, Wilma?\" I demanded, drawing my\npistol.\n\n\"It depends on your rocket, Tony. It will take even the longest range\nrocket, but you could shoot more accurately from a longer tube. But why?\nYou couldn't penetrate the shell of that ship with rocket force, even if\nyou could reach it.\"\n\nI fumbled clumsily with my rocket pouch, for I was excited. I had an\nidea I wanted to try; a \"hunch\" I called it, forgetting that Wilma could\nnot understand my ancient slang. But finally, with her help, I selected\nthe longest range explosive rocket in my pouch, and fitted it to my\npistol.\n\n\"It won't carry seven thousand feet, Tony,\" Wilma objected. But I took\naim carefully. It was another thought that I had in my mind. The\nsupporting repellor ray, I had been told, became molecular in character\nat what was called a logarithmic level of five (below that it was a\npurely electronic \"flow\" or pulsation between the source of the\n\"carrier\" and the average mass of the earth). Below that level if I\ncould project my explosive bullet into this stream where it began to\ncarry material substance upward, might it not rise with the air column,\ngathering speed and hitting the ship with enough impact to carry it\nthrough the shell? It was worth trying anyhow. Wilma became greatly\nexcited, too, when she grasped the nature of my inspiration.\n\nFeverishly I looked around for some formation of branches against which\nI could rest the pistol, for I had to aim most carefully. At last I\nfound one. Patiently I sighted on the hulk of the ship far above us,\naiming at the far side of it, at such an angle as would, so far as I\ncould estimate, bring my bullet path through the forward repellor beam.\nAt last the sights wavered across the point I sought and I pressed the\nbutton gently.\n\nFor a moment we gazed breathlessly.\n\nSuddenly the ship swung bow down, as on a pivot, and swayed like a\npendulum. Wilma screamed in her excitement.\n\n\"Oh, Tony, you hit it! You hit it! Do it again; bring it down!\"\n\nWe had only one more rocket of extreme range between us, and we dropped\nit three times in our excitement in inserting it in my gun. Then,\nforcing myself to be calm by sheer will power, while Wilma stuffed her\nlittle fist into her mouth to keep from shrieking, I sighted carefully\nagain and fired. In a flash, Wilma had grasped the hope that this\ndiscovery of mine might lead to the end of the Han domination.\n\nThe elapsed time of the rocket's invisible flight seemed an age.\n\nThen we saw the ship falling. It seemed to plunge lazily, but actually\nit fell with terrific acceleration, turning end over end, its\ndisintegrator rays, out of control, describing vast, wild arcs, and once\ncutting a gash through the forest less than two hundred feet from where\nwe stood.\n\nThe crash with which the heavy craft hit the ground reverberated from\nthe hills--the momentum of eighteen or twenty thousand tons, in a sheer\ndrop of seven thousand feet. A mangled mass of metal, it buried itself\nin the ground, with poetic justice, in the middle of the smoking,\nsemi-molten field of destruction it had been so deliberately ploughing.\n\nThe silence, the vacuity of the landscape, was oppressive, as the last\nechoes died away.\n\nThen far down the hillside, a single figure leaped exultantly above the\nfoliage screen. And in the distance another, and another.\n\nIn a moment the sky was punctured by signal rockets. One after another\nthe little red puffs became drifting clouds.\n\n\"Scatter! Scatter!\" Wilma exclaimed. \"In half an hour there'll be an\nentire Han fleet here from Nu-yok, and another from Bah-flo. They'll get\nthis instantly on their recordographs and location finders. They'll\nblast the whole valley and the country for miles beyond. Come, Tony.\nThere's no time for the gang to rally. See the signals. We've got to\njump. Oh, I'm so proud of you!\"\n\nOver the ridge we went, in long leaps toward the east, the country of\nthe Delawares.\n\nFrom time to time signal rockets puffed in the sky. Most of them were\nthe \"red warnings,\" the \"scatter\" signals. But from certain of the\nothers, which Wilma identified as Wyoming rockets, she gathered that\nwhoever was in command (we did not know whether the Boss was alive or\nnot) was ordering an ultimate rally toward the south, and so we changed\nour course.\n\nIt was a great pity, I thought, that the clan had not been equipped\nthroughout its membership with ultrophones, but Wilma explained to me,\nthat not enough of these had been built for distribution as yet,\nalthough general distribution had been contemplated within a couple of\nmonths.\n\nWe traveled far before nightfall overtook us, trying only to put as much\ndistance as possible between ourselves and the valley.\n\nWhen gathering dusk made jumping too dangerous, we sought a comfortable\nspot beneath the trees, and consumed part of our emergency rations. It\nwas the first time I had tasted the stuff--a highly nutritive synthetic\nsubstance called \"concentro,\" which was, however, a bit bitter and\nunpalatable. But as only a mouthful or so was needed, it did not matter.\n\nNeither of us had a cloak, but we were both thoroughly tired and happy,\nso we curled up together for warmth. I remember Wilma making some sleepy\nremark about our mating, as she cuddled up, as though the matter were\nall settled, and my surprise at my own instant acceptance of the idea,\nfor I had not consciously thought of her that way before. But we both\nfell asleep at once.\n\nIn the morning we found little time for love making. The practical\nproblem facing us was too great. Wilma felt that the Wyoming plan must\nbe to rally in the Susquanna territory, but she had her doubts about the\nwisdom of this plan. In my elation at my success in bringing down the\nHan ship, and my newly found interest in my charming companion, who was,\nfrom my viewpoint of another century, at once more highly civilized and\nyet more primitive than myself, I had forgotten the ominous fact that\nthe Han ship I had destroyed must have known the exact location of the\nWyoming Works.\n\nThis meant, to Wilma's logical mind, either that the Hans had perfected\nnew instruments as yet unknown to us, or that somewhere, among the\nWyomings or some other nearby gang, there were traitors so degraded as\nto commit that unthinkable act of trafficking in information with the\nHans. In either contingency, she argued, other Han raids would follow,\nand since the Susquannas had a highly developed organization and more\nthan usually productive plants, the next raid might be expected to\nstrike them.\n\nBut at any rate it was clearly our business to get in touch with the\nother fugitives as quickly as possible, so in spite of muscles that were\nsore from the excessive leaping of the day before, we continued on our\nway.\n\nWe traveled for only a couple of hours when we saw a multi-colored\nrocket in the sky, some ten miles ahead of us.\n\n\"Bear to the left, Tony,\" Wilma said, \"and listen for the whistle.\"\n\n\"Why?\" I asked.\n\n\"Haven't they given you the rocket code yet?\" she replied. \"That's what\nthe green, followed by yellow and purple means; to concentrate five\nmiles east of the rocket position. You know the rocket position itself\nmight draw a play of disintegrator beams.\"\n\nIt did not take us long to reach the neighborhood of the indicated\nrallying, though we were now traveling beneath the trees, with but an\noccasional leap to a top branch to see if any more rocket smoke was\nfloating above. And soon we heard a distant whistle.\n\nWe found about half the Gang already there, in a spot where the trees\nmet high above a little stream. The Big Boss and Raid Bosses were busy\nreorganizing the remnants.\n\nWe reported to Boss Hart at once. He was silent, but interested, when he\nheard our story.\n\n\"You two stick close to me,\" he said, adding grimly, \"I'm going back to\nthe valley at once with a hundred picked men, and I'll need you.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nSetting the Trap\n\n\nInside of fifteen minutes we were on our way. A certain amount of\ncaution was sacrificed for the sake of speed, and the men leaped away\neither across the forest top, or over open spaces of ground, but\nconcentration was forbidden. The Big Boss named the spot on the hillside\nas the rallying point.\n\n\"We'll have to take a chance on being seen, so long as we don't group,\"\nhe declared, \"at least until within five miles of the rallying spot.\nFrom then on I want every man to disappear from sight and to travel\nunder cover. And keep your ultrophones open, and tuned on\nten-four-seven-six.\"\n\nWilma and I had received our battle equipment from the Gear boss. It\nconsisted of a long-gun, a hand-gun, with a special case of ammunition\nconstructed of inertron, which made the load weigh but a few ounces, and\na short sword. This gear we strapped over each other's shoulders, on top\nof our jumping belts. In addition, we each received an ultrophone, and a\nlight inertron blanket rolled into a cylinder about six inches long by\ntwo or three in diameter. This fabric was exceedingly thin and light,\nbut it had considerable warmth, because of the mixture of inertron in\nits composition.\n\n[Illustration: The Han raider neared with incredible speed. Its rays\nwere both slanted astern at a sharp angle, so that it slid forward with\ntremendous momentum.... Whenever the disintegrator rays flashed downward\nwith blinding brilliancy, forest, rocks and ground melted\ninstantaneously into nothing, where they played upon them.]\n\n\"This looks like business,\" Wilma remarked to me with sparkling eyes.\n(And I might mention a curious thing here. The word \"business\" had\nsurvived from the 20th Century American vocabulary, but not with any\nmeaning of \"industry\" or \"trade,\" for such things being purely community\nactivities were spoken of as \"work\" and \"clearing.\" Business simply\nmeant fighting, and that was all.)\n\n\"Did you bring all this equipment from the valley?\" I asked the Gear\nBoss.\n\n\"No,\" he said. \"There was no time to gather anything. All this stuff we\ncleared from the Susquannas a few hours ago. I was with the Boss on the\nway down, and he had me jump on ahead and arrange it. But you two had\nbetter be moving. He's beckoning you now.\"\n\nHart was about to call us on our phones when we looked up. As soon as we\ndid so, he leaped away, waving us to follow closely.\n\nHe was a powerful man, and he darted ahead in long, swift, low leaps up\nthe banks of the stream, which followed a fairly straight course at this\npoint. By extending ourselves, however, Wilma and I were able to catch\nup to him.\n\nAs we gradually synchronized our leaps with his, he outlined to us,\nbetween the grunts that accompanied each leap, his plan of action.\n\n\"We have to start the big business--unh--sooner or later,\" he said.\n\"And if--unh--the Hans have found any way of locating our\npositions--unh--it's time to start now, although the Council of\nBosses--unh--had intended waiting a few years until enough rocket ships\nhave been--unh--built. But no matter what the sacrifice--unh--we can't\nafford to let them get us on the run--unh--. We'll set a trap for the\nyellow devils in the--unh--valley if they come back for their\nwreckage--unh--and if they don't, we'll go rocketing for some of their\nliners--unh--on the Nu-yok, Clee-lan, Si-ka-ga course. We can\nuse--unh--that idea of yours of shooting up the repellor--unh--beams.\nWant you to give us a demonstration.\"\n\nWith further admonition to follow him closely, he increased his pace,\nand Wilma and I were taxed to our utmost to keep up with him. It was\nonly in ascending the slopes that my tougher muscles overbalanced his\ngreater skill, and I was able to set the pace for him, as I had for\nWilma.\n\nWe slept in greater comfort that night, under our inertron blankets, and\nwere off with the dawn, leaping cautiously to the top of the ridge\noverlooking the valley which Wilma and I had left.\n\nThe Boss scanned the sky with his ultroscope, patiently taking some\nfifteen minutes to the task, and then swung his phone into use, calling\nthe roll and giving the men their instructions.\n\nHis first order was for us all to slip our ear and chest discs into\npermanent position.\n\nThese ultrophones were quite different from the one used by Wilma's\ncompanion scout the day I saved her from the vicious attack of the\nbandit Gang. That one was contained entirely in a small pocket case.\nThese, with which we were now equipped, consisted of a pair of ear\ndiscs, each a separate and self-contained receiving set. They slipped\ninto little pockets over our ears in the fabric helmets we wore, and\nshut out virtually all extraneous sounds. The chest discs were likewise\nself-contained sending sets, strapped to the chest a few inches below\nthe neck and actuated by the vibrations from the vocal cords through the\nbody tissues. The total range of these sets was about eighteen miles.\nReception was remarkably clear, quite free from the static that so\nmarked the 20th Century radios, and of a strength in direct proportion\nto the distance of the speaker.\n\nThe Boss' set was triple powered, so that his orders would cut in on any\nlocal conversations, which were indulged in, however, with great\nrestraint, and only for the purpose of maintaining contacts.\n\nI marveled at the efficiency of this modern method of battle\ncommunication in contrast to the clumsy signaling devices of more\nancient times; and also at other military contrasts in which the 20th\nand 25th Century methods were the reverse of each other in efficiency.\nThese modern Americans, for instance, knew little of hand to hand\nfighting, and nothing, naturally, of trench warfare. Of barrages they\nwere quite ignorant, although they possessed weapons of terrific power.\nAnd until my recent flash of inspiration, no one among them, apparently,\nhad ever thought of the scheme of shooting a rocket into a repellor beam\nand letting the beam itself hurl it upward into the most vital part of\nthe Han ship.\n\nHart patiently placed his men, first giving his instructions to the\ncampmasters, and then remaining silent, while they placed the\nindividuals.\n\nIn the end, the hundred men were ringed about the valley, on the\nhillsides and tops, each in a position from which he had a good view of\nthe wreckage of the Han ship. But not a man had come in view, so far as\nI could see, in the whole process.\n\nThe Boss explained to me that it was his idea that he, Wilma and I\nshould investigate the wreck. If Han ships should appear in the sky, we\nwould leap for the hillsides.\n\nI suggested to him to have the men set up their long-guns trained on an\nimaginary circle surrounding the wreck. He busied himself with this\nafter the three of us leaped down to the Han ship, serving as a target\nhimself, while he called on the men individually to aim their pieces and\nlock them in position.\n\nIn the meantime Wilma and I climbed into the wreckage, but did not find\nmuch. Practically all of the instruments and machinery had been twisted\nout of all recognizable shape, or utterly destroyed by the ship's\ndisintegrator rays which apparently had continued to operate in the\nmidst of its warped remains for some moments after the crash.\n\nIt was unpleasant work searching the mangled bodies of the crew. But it\nhad to be done. The Han clothing, I observed, was quite different from\nthat of the Americans, and in many respects more like the garb to which\nI had been accustomed in the earlier part of my life. It was made of\nsynthetic fabrics like silks, loose and comfortable trousers of knee\nlength, and sleeveless shirts.\n\nNo protection, except that against drafts, was needed, Wilma explained\nto me, for the Han cities were entirely enclosed, with splendid\narrangements for ventilation and heating. These arrangements of course\nwere equally adequate in their airships. The Hans, indeed, had quite a\ndistaste for unshaded daylight, since their lighting apparatus diffused\na controlled amount of violet rays, making the unmodified sunlight\nunnecessary for health, and undesirable for comfort. Since the Hans did\nnot have the secret of inertron, none of them wore anti-gravity belts.\nYet in spite of the fact that they had to bear their own full weights at\nall times, they were physically far inferior to the Americans, for they\nlived lives of degenerative physical inertia, having machinery of every\ndescription for the performance of all labor, and convenient conveyances\nfor any movement of more than a few steps.\n\nEven from the twisted wreckage of this ship I could see that seats,\nchairs and couches played an extremely important part in their scheme of\nexistence.\n\nBut none of the bodies were overweight. They seemed to have been the\nbodies of men in good health, but muscularly much underdeveloped. Wilma\nexplained to me that they had mastered the science of gland control, and\nof course dietetics, to the point where men and women among them not\nuncommonly reached the age of a hundred years with arteries and general\nhealth in splendid condition.\n\nI did not have time to study the ship and its contents as carefully as I\nwould have liked, however. Time pressed, and it was our business to\ndiscover some clue to the deadly accuracy with which the ship had\nspotted the Wyoming Works.\n\nThe Boss had hardly finished his arrangements for the ring barrage, when\none of the scouts on an eminence to the north, announced the approach of\nseven Han ships, spread out in a great semi-circle.\n\nHart leaped for the hillside, calling to us to do likewise, but Wilma\nand I had raised the flaps of our helmets and switched off our\n\"speakers\" for conversation between ourselves, and by the time we\ndiscovered what had happened, the ships were clearly visible, so fast\nwere they approaching.\n\n\"Jump!\" we heard the Boss order, \"Deering to the north. Rogers to the\neast.\"\n\nBut Wilma looked at me meaningly and pointed to where the twisted plates\nof the ship, projecting from the ground, offered a shelter.\n\n\"Too late, Boss,\" she said. \"They'd see us. Besides I think there's\nsomething here we ought to look at. It's probably their magnetic graph.\"\n\n\"You're signing your death warrant,\" Hart warned.\n\n\"We'll risk it,\" said Wilma and I together.\n\n\"Good for you,\" replied the Boss. \"Take command then, Rogers, for the\npresent. Do you all know his voice, boys?\"\n\nA chorus of assent rang in our ears, and I began to do some fast\nthinking as the girl and I ducked into the twisted mass of metal.\n\n\"Wilma, hunt for that record,\" I said, knowing that by the simple\nprocess of talking I could keep the entire command continuously informed\nas to the situation. \"On the hillsides, keep your guns trained on the\ncircles and stand by. On the hilltops, how many of you are there? Speak\nin rotation from Bald Knob around to the east, north, west.\"\n\nIn turn the men called their names. There were twenty of them.\n\nI assigned them by name to cover the various Han ships, numbering the\nlatter from left to right.\n\n\"Train your rockets on their repellor rays about three-quarters of the\nway up, between ships and ground. Aim is more important than elevation.\nFollow those rays with your aim continuously. Shoot when I tell you, not\nbefore. Deering has the record. The Hans probably have not seen us, or\nat least think there are but two of us in the valley, since they're\nsettling without opening up disintegrators. Any opinions?\"\n\nMy ear discs remained silent.\n\n\"Deering and I remain here until they land and debark. Stand by and keep\nalert.\"\n\nRapidly and easily the largest of the Han ships settled to the earth.\nThree scouted sharply to the south, rising to a higher level. The others\nfloated motionless about a thousand feet above.\n\nPeeping through a small fissure between two plates, I saw the vast hulk\nof the ship come to rest full on the line of our prospective ring\nbarrage. A door clanged open a couple of feet from the ground, and one\nby one the crew emerged.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\nThe \"Wyoming Massacre\"\n\n\n\"They're coming out of the ship.\" I spoke quietly, with my hand over\nmy mouth, for fear they might hear me. \"One--two--three--four,\nfive--six--seven--eight--nine. That seems to be all. Who knows how\nmany men a ship like that is likely to carry?\"\n\n\"About ten, if there are no passengers,\" replied one of my men, probably\none of those on the hillside.\n\n\"How are they armed?\" I asked.\n\n\"Just knives,\" came the reply. \"They never permit hand-rays on the\nships. Afraid of accidents. Have a ruling against it.\"\n\n\"Leave them to us then,\" I said, for I had a hastily formed plan in my\nmind. \"You, on the hillsides, take the ships above. Abandon the ring\ntarget. Divide up in training on those repellor rays. You, on the\nhilltops, all train on the repellors of the ships to the south. Shoot at\nthe word, but not before.\n\n\"Wilma, crawl over to your left where you can make a straight leap for\nthe door in that ship. These men are all walking around the wreck in a\nbunch. When they're on the far side, I'll give the word and you leap\nthrough that door in one bound. I'll follow. Maybe we won't be seen.\nWe'll overpower the guard inside, but don't shoot. We may escape being\nseen by both this crew and ships above. They can't see over this wreck.\"\n\nIt was so easy that it seemed too good to be true. The Hans who had\nemerged from the ship walked round the wreckage lazily, talking in\nguttural tones, keenly interested in the wreck, but quite unsuspicious.\n\nAt last they were on the far side. In a moment they would be picking\ntheir way into the wreck.\n\n\"Wilma, leap!\" I almost whispered the order.\n\nThe distance between Wilma's hiding place and the door in the side of\nthe Han ship was not more than fifteen feet. She was already crouched\nwith her feet braced against a metal beam. Taking the lift of that\nwonderful inertron belt into her calculation, she dove headforemost,\nlike a green projectile, through the door. I followed in a split second,\nmore clumsily, but no less speedily, bruising my shoulder painfully, as\nI ricocheted from the edge of the opening and brought up sliding against\nthe unconscious girl; for she evidently had hit her head against the\npartition within the ship into which she had crashed.\n\nWe had made some noise within the ship. Shuffling footsteps were\napproaching down a well lit gangway.\n\n\"Any signs we have been observed?\" I asked my men on the hillsides.\n\n\"Not yet,\" I heard the Boss reply. \"Ships overhead still standing. No\nbeams have been broken out. Men on ground absorbed in wreck. Most of\nthem have crawled into it out of sight.\"\n\n\"Good,\" I said quickly. \"Deering hit her head. Knocked out. One or more\nmembers of the crew approaching. We're not discovered yet. I'll take\ncare of them. Stand a bit longer, but be ready.\"\n\nI think my last words must have been heard by the man who was\napproaching, for he stopped suddenly.\n\nI crouched at the far side of the compartment, motionless. I would not\ndraw my sword if there were only one of them. He would be a weakling, I\nfigured, and I should easily overcome him with my bare hands.\n\nApparently reassured at the absence of any further sound, a man came\naround a sort of bulkhead--and I leaped.\n\nI swung my legs up in front of me as I did so, catching him full in the\nstomach and knocked him cold.\n\nI ran forward along the keel gangway, searching for the control room. I\nfound it well up in the nose of the ship. And it was deserted. What\ncould I do to jam the controls of the ships that would not register on\nthe recording instruments of the other ships? I gazed at the mass of\ncontrols. Levers and wheels galore. In the center of the compartment, on\na massively braced universal joint mounting, was what I took for the\nrepellor generator. A dial on it glowed and a faint hum came from within\nits shielding metallic case. But I had no time to study it.\n\nAbove all else, I was afraid that some automatic telephone apparatus\nexisted in the room, through which I might be heard on the other ships.\nThe risk of trying to jam the controls was too great. I abandoned the\nidea and withdrew softly. I would have to take a chance that there was\nno other member of the crew aboard.\n\nI ran back to the entrance compartment. Wilma still lay where she had\nslumped down. I heard the voices of the Hans approaching. It was time to\nact. The next few seconds would tell whether the ships in the air would\ntry or be able to melt us into nothingness. I spoke.\n\n\"Are you boys all ready?\" I asked, creeping to a position opposite the\ndoor and drawing my hand-gun.\n\nAgain there was a chorus of assent.\n\n\"Then on the count of three, shoot up those repellor rays--all of\nthem--and for God's sake, don't miss.\" And I counted.\n\nI think my \"three\" was a bit weak. I know it took all the courage I had\nto utter it.\n\nFor an agonizing instant nothing happened, except that the landing party\nfrom the ship strolled into my range of vision.\n\nThen startled, they turned their eyes upward. For an instant they stood\nfrozen with horror at whatever they saw.\n\nOne hurled his knife at me. It grazed my cheek. Then a couple of them\nmade a break for the doorway. The rest followed. But I fired pointblank\nwith my hand-gun, pressing the button as fast as I could and aiming at\ntheir feet to make sure my explosive rockets would make contact and do\ntheir work.\n\nThe detonations of my rockets were deafening. The spot on which the Hans\nstood flashed into a blinding glare. Then there was nothing there except\ntheir torn and mutilated corpses. They had been fairly bunched, and I\ngot them all.\n\nI ran to the door, expecting any instant to be hurled into infinity by\nthe sweep of a disintegrator ray.\n\nSome eighth of a mile away I saw one of the ships crash to earth. A\ndisintegrator ray came into my line of vision, wavered uncertainly for a\nmoment and then began to sweep directly toward the ship in which I\nstood. But it never reached it. Suddenly, like a light switched off, it\nshot to one side, and a moment later another vast hulk crashed to earth.\nI looked out, then stepped out on the ground.\n\nThe only Han ships in the sky were two of the scouts to the south which\nwere hanging perpendicularly, and sagging slowly down. The others must\nhave crashed down while I was deafened by the sound of the explosion of\nmy own rockets.\n\nSomebody hit the other repellor ray of one of the two remaining ships\nand it fell out of sight beyond a hilltop. The other, farther away,\ndrifted down diagonally, its disintegrator ray playing viciously over\nthe ground below it.\n\nI shouted with exultation and relief.\n\n\"Take back the command, Boss!\" I yelled.\n\nHis commands, sending out jumpers in pursuit of the descending ship,\nrang in my ears, but I paid no attention to them. I leaped back into the\ncompartment of the Han ship and knelt beside my Wilma. Her padded helmet\nhad absorbed much of the blow, I thought; otherwise, her skull might\nhave been fractured.\n\n\"Oh, my head!\" she groaned, coming to as I lifted her gently in my arms\nand strode out in the open with her. \"We must have won, dearest, did\nwe?\"\n\n\"We most certainly did,\" I reassured her. \"All but one crashed and that\none is drifting down toward the south; we've captured this one we're in\nintact. There was only one member of the crew aboard when we dove in.\"\n\n[Illustration: As the American leaped, he swung his legs up in front of\nhim, catching the Han full in the stomach.]\n\nLess than an hour afterward the Big Boss ordered the outfit to tune in\nultrophones on three-twenty-three to pick up a translated broadcast of\nthe Han intelligence office in Nu-yok from the Susquanna station. It\nwas in the form of a public warning and news item, and read as follows:\n\n\"This is Public Intelligence Office, Nu-yok, broadcasting warning to\nnavigators of private ships, and news of public interest. The squadron\nof seven ships, which left Nu-yok this morning to investigate the recent\ndestruction of the GK-984 in the Wyoming Valley, has been destroyed by a\nseries of mysterious explosions similar to those which wrecked the\nGK-984.\n\n\"The phones, viewplates, and all other signaling devices of five of the\nseven ships ceased operating suddenly at approximately the same moment,\nabout seven-four-nine.\" (According to the Han system of reckoning time,\nseven and forty-nine one hundredths after midnight.) \"After violent\ndisturbances the location finders went out of operation. Electroactivity\nregisters applied to the territory of the Wyoming Valley remain dead.\n\n\"The Intelligence Office has no indication of the kind of disaster which\novertook the squadron except certain evidences of explosive phenomena\nsimilar to those in the case of the GK-984, which recently went dead\nwhile beaming the valley in a systematic effort to wipe out the works\nand camps of the tribesmen. The Office considers, as obvious, the\ndeduction that the tribesmen have developed a new, and as yet\nundetermined, technique of attack on airships, and has recommended to\nthe Heaven-Born that immediate and unlimited authority be given the\nNavigation Intelligence Division to make an investigation of this\ntechnique and develop a defense against it.\n\n\"In the meantime it urges that private navigators avoid this territory\nin particular, and in general hold as closely as possible to the\nofficial inter-city routes, which now are being patrolled by the entire\nforce of the Military Office, which is beaming the routes generously to\na width of ten miles. The Military Office reports that it is at present\nconsidering no retaliatory raids against the tribesmen. With the\nNavigation Intelligence Division, it holds that unless further evidence\nof the nature of the disaster is developed in the near future, the\npublic interest will be better served, and at smaller cost of life, by a\nscientific research than by attempts at retaliation, which may bring\ndestruction on all ships engaging therein. So unless further evidence\nactually is developed, or the Heaven-Born orders to the contrary, the\nMilitary will hold to a defensive policy.\n\n\"Unofficial intimations from Lo-Tan are to the effect that the\nHeaven-Council has the matter under consideration.\n\n\"The Navigation Intelligence Office permits the broadcast of the\nfollowing condensation of its detailed observations:\n\n\"The squadron proceeded to a position above the Wyoming Valley where\nthe wreck of the GK-984 was known to be, from the record of its location\nfinder before it went dead recently. There the bottom projectoscope\nrelays of all ships registered the wreck of the GK-984. Teleprojectoscope\nviews of the wreck and the bowl of the valley showed no evidence of the\npresence of tribesmen. Neither ship registers nor base registers showed\nany indication of electroactivity except from the squadron itself. On\norders from the Base Squadron Commander, the LD-248, LK-745 and LG-25\nscouted southward at 3,000 feet. The GK-43, GK-981 and GK-220 stood\nabove at 2,500 feet, and the GK-18 landed to permit personal inspection\nof the wreck by the science committee. The party debarked, leaving one\nman on board in the control cabin. He set all projectoscopes at\nuniversal focus except RB-3,\" (this meant the third projectoscope from\nthe bow of the ship, on the right-hand side of the lower deck) \"with\nwhich he followed the landing group as it walked around the wreck.\n\n\"The first abnormal phenomenon recorded by any of the instruments at\nBase was that relayed automatically from projectoscope RB-4 of the\nGK-18, which as the party disappeared from view in back of the wreck,\nrecorded two green missiles of roughly cylindrical shape, projected from\nthe wreckage into the landing compartment of the ship. At such close\nrange these were not clearly defined, owing to the universal focus at\nwhich the projectoscope was set. The Base Captain of GK-18 at once\nordered the man in the control room to investigate, and saw him leave\nthe control room in compliance with this order. An instant later\nconfused sounds reached the control-room electrophone, such as might be\nmade by a man falling heavily, and footsteps reapproached the control\nroom, a figure entering and leaving the control room hurriedly. The Base\nCaptain now believes, and the stills of the photorecord support his\nbelief, that this was not the crew member who had been left in the\ncontrol room. Before the Base Captain could speak to him he left the\nroom, nor was any response given to the attention signal the Captain\nflashed throughout the ship.\n\n\"At this point projectoscope RB-3 of the ship now out of focus control,\ndimly showed the landing party walking back toward the ship. RB-4 showed\nit more clearly. Then on both these instruments, a number of blinding\nexplosives in rapid succession were seen and the electrophone relays\nregistered terrific concussions; the ship's electronic apparatus and\nprojectoscopes apparatus went dead.\n\n\"Reports of the other ships' Base Observers and Executives, backed by\nthe photorecords, show the explosions as taking place in the midst of\nthe landing party as it returned, evidently unsuspicious, to the ship.\nThen in rapid succession they indicate that terrific explosions occurred\ninside and outside the three ships standing above close to their rep-ray\ngenerators, and all signals from these ships thereupon went dead.\n\n\"Of the three ships scouting to the south, the LD-248 suffered an\nidentical fate, at the same moment. Its records add little to the\nknowledge of the disaster. But with the LK-745 and the LG-25 it was\ndifferent.\n\n\"The relay instruments of the LK-745 indicated the destruction by an\nexplosion of the rear rep-ray generator, and that the ship hung stern\ndown for a short space, swinging like a pendulum. The forward viewplates\nand indicators did not cease functioning, but their records are chaotic,\nexcept for one projectoscope still, which shows the bowl of the valley,\nand the GK-981 falling, but no visible evidence of tribesmen. The\ncontrol-room viewplate is also a chaotic record of the ship's crew\ntumbling and falling to the rear wall. Then the forward rep-ray\ngenerator exploded, and all signals went dead.\n\n\"The fate of the LG-25 was somewhat similar, except that this ship hung\nnose down, and drifted on the wind southward as it slowly descended out\nof control.\n\n\"As its control room was shattered, verbal report from its Action\nCaptain was precluded. The record of the interior rear viewplate shows\nmembers of the crew climbing toward the rear rep-ray generator in an\nattempt to establish manual control of it, and increase the lift. The\nprojectoscope relays, swinging in wide arcs, recorded little of value\nexcept at the ends of their swings. One of these, from a machine which\nhappened to be set in telescopic focus, shows several views of great\nvalue in picturing the falls of the other ships, and all of the rear\nprojectoscope records enable the reconstruction in detail of the\npendulum and torsional movements of the ship, and its sag toward the\nearth. But none of the views showing the forest below contain any\nindication of tribesmen's presence. A final explosion put this ship out\nof commission at a height of 1,000 feet, and at a point four miles S. by\nE. of the center of the valley.\"\n\nThe message ended with a repetition of the warning to other airmen to\navoid the valley.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\nIncredible Treason\n\n\nAfter receiving this report, and reassurances of support from the Big\nBosses of the neighboring Gangs, Hart determined to reestablish the\nWyoming Valley community.\n\nA careful survey of the territory showed that it was only the northern\nsections and slopes that had been \"beamed\" by the first Han ship.\n\nThe synthetic-fabrics plant had been partially wiped out, though the\nlower levels underground had not been reached by the dis ray. The forest\nscreen above it, however, had been annihilated, and it was determined to\nabandon it, after removing all usable machinery and evidences of the\nprocesses that might be of interest to the Han scientists, should they\nreturn to the valley in the future.\n\nThe ammunition plant, and the rocket-ship plant, which had just been\nabout to start operation at the time of the raid, were intact, as were\nthe other important plants.\n\nHart brought the Camboss up from the Susquanna Works, and laid out new\ncamp locations, scattering them farther to the south, and avoiding\nground which had been seared by the Han beams and the immediate\nlocations of the Han wrecks.\n\nDuring this period, a sharp check was kept upon Han messages, for the\nphone plant had been one of the first to be put in operation, and when\nit became evident that the Hans did not intend any immediate reprisals,\nthe entire membership of the community was summoned back, and normal\nlife was resumed.\n\nWilma and I had been married the day after the destruction of the ships,\nand spent this intervening period in a delightful honeymoon, camping\nhigh in the mountains. On our return, we had a camp of our own, of\ncourse. We were assigned to location 1017. And as might be expected, we\nhad a great deal of banter over which one of us was Camp Boss. The title\nstood after my name on the Big Boss' records, and those of the Big\nCamboss, of course, but Wilma airily held that this meant nothing at\nall--and generally succeeded in making me admit it whenever she chose.\n\nI found myself a full-fledged member of the Gang now, for I had elected\nto search no farther for a permanent alliance, much as I would have\nliked to familiarize myself with this 25th Century life in other\nsections of the country. The Wyomings had a high morale, and had\nprospered under the rule of Big Boss Hart for many years. But many of\nthe gangs, I found, were badly organized, lacked strong hands in\nauthority, and were rife with intrigue. On the whole, I thought I would\nbe wise to stay with a group which had already proved its friendliness,\nand in which I seemed to have prospects of advancement. Under these\nmodern social and economic conditions, the kind of individual freedom to\nwhich I had been accustomed in the 20th Century was impossible. I would\nhave been as much of a nonentity in every phase of human relationship by\nattempting to avoid alliances, as any man of the 20th Century would have\nbeen politically, who aligned himself with no political party.\n\nThis entire modern life, it appeared to me, judging from my ancient\nviewpoint, was organized along what I called \"political\" lines. And in\nthis connection, it amused me to notice how universal had become the use\nof the word \"boss.\" The leader, the person in charge or authority over\nanything, was a \"boss.\" There was as little formality in his relations\nwith his followers as there was in the case of the 20th Century\npolitical boss, and the same high respect paid him by his followers as\nwell as the same high consideration by him of their interests. He was\njust as much of an autocrat, and just as much dependent upon the general\npopularity of his actions for the ability to maintain his autocracy.\n\nThe sub-boss who could not command the loyalty of his followers was as\nquickly deposed, either by them or by his superiors, as the ancient ward\nleader of the 20th Century who lost control of his votes.\n\nAs society was organized in the 20th Century, I do not believe the\nsystem could have worked in anything but politics. I tremble to think\nwhat would have happened, had the attempt been made to handle the A. E.\nF. this way during the First World War, instead of by that rigid\nmilitary discipline and complete assumption of the individual as a mere\nstandardized cog in the machine.\n\nBut owing to the centuries of desperate suffering the people had endured\nat the hands of the Hans, there developed a spirit of self-sacrifice and\nconsideration for the common good that made the scheme applicable and\nefficient in all forms of human co-operation.\n\nI have a little heresy about all this, however. My associates regard the\nthought with as much horror as many worthy people of the 20th Century\nfelt in regard to any heretical suggestion that the original outline of\ngovernment as laid down in the First Constitution did not apply as well\nto 20th Century conditions as to those of the early 19th.\n\nIn later years, I felt that there was a certain softening of moral fiber\namong the people, since the Hans had been finally destroyed with all\ntheir works; and Americans have developed a new luxury economy. I have\nseen signs of the reawakening of greed, of selfishness. The eternal\ncycle seems to be at work. I fear that slowly, though surely, private\nwealth is reappearing, codes of inflexibility are developing; they will\nbe followed by corruption, degradation; and in the end some cataclysmic\nevent will end this era and usher in a new one.\n\nAll this, however, is wandering afar from my story, which concerns our\nearly battles against the Hans, and not our more modern problems of\nself-control.\n\nOur victory over the seven Han ships had set the country ablaze. The\nsecret had been carefully communicated to the other gangs, and the\ncountry was agog from one end to the other. There was feverish activity\nin the ammunition plants, and the hunting of stray Han ships became an\nenthusiastic sport. The results were disastrous to our hereditary\nenemies.\n\nFrom the Pacific Coast came the report of a great transpacific liner of\n75,000 tons \"lift\" being brought to earth from a position of\ninvisibility above the clouds. A dozen Sacramentos had caught the hazy\noutlines of its rep rays approaching them, head-on, in the twilight,\nlike ghostly pillars reaching into the sky. They had fired rockets into\nit with ease, whereas they would have had difficulty in hitting it if it\nhad been moving at right angles to their position. They got one rep ray.\nThe other was not strong enough to hold it up. It floated to earth, nose\ndown, and since it was unarmed and unarmored, they had no difficulty in\nshooting it to pieces and massacring its crew and passengers. It seemed\nbarbarous to me. But then I did not have centuries of bitter persecution\nin my blood.\n\nFrom the Jersey Beaches we received news of the destruction of a\nNu-yok-A-lan-a liner. The Sand-snipers, practically invisible in their\nsand-colored clothing, and half buried along the beaches, lay in wait\nfor days, risking the play of dis beams along the route, and finally\nregistering four hits within a week. The Hans discontinued their service\nalong this route, and as evidence that they were badly shaken by our\nsuccess, sent no raiders down the Beaches.\n\nIt was a few weeks later that Big Boss Hart sent for me.\n\n\"Tony,\" he said, \"There are two things I want to talk to you about. One\nof them will become public property in a few days, I think. We aren't\ngoing to get any more Han ships by shooting up their repellor rays\nunless we use much larger rockets. They are wise to us now. They're\nputting armor of great thickness in the hulls of their ships below the\nrep-ray machines. Near Bah-flo this morning a party of Eries shot one\nwithout success. The explosions staggered her, but did not penetrate. As\nnear as we can gather from their reports, their laboratories have\ndeveloped a new alloy of great tensile strength and elasticity which\nnevertheless lets the rep rays through like a sieve. Our reports\nindicate that the Eries' rockets bounced off harmlessly. Most of the\nparty was wiped out as the dis rays went into action on them.\n\n\"This is going to mean real business for all of the gangs before long.\nThe Big Bosses have just held a national ultrophone council. It was\ndecided that America must organize on a national basis. The first move\nis to develop sectional organization by Zones. I have been made\nSuperboss of the Mid-Atlantic Zone.\n\n\"We're in for it now. The Hans are sure to launch reprisal expeditions.\nIf we're to save the race we must keep them away from our camps and\nplants. I'm thinking of developing a permanent field force, along the\nlines of the regular armies of the 20th Century you told me about. Its\nbusiness will be twofold: to carry the warfare as much as possible to\nthe Hans, and to serve as a decoy, to keep their attention from our\nplants. I'm going to need your help in this.\n\n\"The other thing I wanted to talk to you about is this: Amazing and\nimpossible as it seems, there is a group, or perhaps an entire gang,\nsomewhere among us, that is betraying us to the Hans. It may be the Bad\nBloods, or it may be one of those gangs who live near one of the Han\ncities. You know, a hundred and fifteen or twenty years ago there were\ncertain of these people's ancestors who actually degraded themselves by\nmating with the Hans, sometimes even serving them as slaves, in the days\nbefore they brought all their service machinery to perfection.\n\n\"There is such a gang, called the Nagras, up near Bah-flo, and another\nin Mid-Jersey that men call the Pineys. But I hardly suspect the Pineys.\nThere is little intelligence among them. They wouldn't have the\ninformation to give the Hans, nor would they be capable of imparting it.\nThey're absolute savages.\"\n\n\"Just what evidence is there that anybody has been clearing information\nto the Hans?\" I asked.\n\n\"Well,\" he replied, \"first of all there was that raid upon us. That\nfirst Han ship knew the location of our plants exactly. You remember it\nfloated directly into position above the valley and began a systematic\nbeaming. Then, the Hans quite obviously have learned that we are picking\nup their electrophone waves, for they've gone back to their old, but\nextremely accurate, system of directional control. But we've been\ngetting them for the past week by installing automatic re-broadcast\nunits along the scar paths. This is what the Americans called those\nstrips of country directly under the regular ship routes of the Hans,\nwho as a matter of precaution frequently blasted them with their dis\nbeams to prevent the growth of foliage which might give shelter to the\nAmericans. But they've been beaming those paths so hard, it looks as\nthough they even had information of this strategy. And in addition,\nthey've been using code. Finally, we've picked up three of their\nmessages in which they discuss, with some nervousness, the existence of\nour 'mysterious' ultrophone.\"\n\n\"But they still have no knowledge of the nature and control of ultronic\nactivity?\" I asked.\n\n\"No,\" said the Big Boss thoughtfully, \"they don't seem to have a bit of\ninformation about it.\"\n\n\"Then it's quite clear,\" I ventured, \"that whoever is 'clearing' us to\nthem is doing it piecemeal. It sounds like a bit of occasional barter,\nrather than an out-and-out alliance. They're holding back as much\ninformation as possible for future bartering, perhaps.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Hart said, \"and it isn't information the Hans are giving in\nreturn, but some form of goods, or privilege. The trick would be to\nlocate the goods. I guess I'll have to make a personal trip around among\nthe Big Bosses.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\nThe Han City\n\n\nThis conversation set me thinking. All of the Han electrophone\ninter-communication had been an open record to the Americans for a good\nmany years, and the Hans were just finding it out. For centuries they\nhad not regarded us as any sort of a menace. Unquestionably it had never\noccurred to them to secrete their own records. Somewhere in Nu-yok or\nBah-flo, or possibly in Lo-Tan itself, the record of this traitorous\ntransaction would be more or less openly filed. If we could only get at\nit! I wondered if a raid might not be possible.\n\nBill Hearn and I talked it over with our Han-affairs Boss and his\nexperts. There ensued several days of research, in which the Han records\nof the entire decade were scanned and analyzed. In the end they picked\nout a mass of detail, and fitted it together into a very definite\npicture of the great central filing office of the Hans in Nu-yok, where\nthe entire mass of official records was kept, constantly available for\ninstant projectoscoping to any of the city's offices, and of the system\nby which the information was filed.\n\nThe attempt began to look feasible, though Hart instantly turned the\nidea down when I first presented it to him. It was unthinkable, he said.\nSheer suicide. But in the end I persuaded him.\n\n\"I will need,\" I said, \"Blash, who is thoroughly familiar with the Han\nlibrary system; Bert Gaunt, who for years has specialized on their\nmilitary offices; Bill Barker, the ray specialist, and the best swooper\npilot we have.\" _Swoopers_ are one-man and two-man ships, developed by\nthe Americans, with skeleton backbones of inertron (during the war\npainted green for invisibility against the green forests below) and\n\"bellies\" of clear ultron.\n\n\"That will be Mort Gibbons,\" said Hart. \"We've only got three swoopers\nleft, Tony, but I'll risk one of them if you and the others will\nvoluntarily risk your existences. But mind, I won't urge or order one of\nyou to go. I'll spread the word to every Plant Boss at once to give you\nanything and everything you need in the way of equipment.\"\n\nWhen I told Wilma of the plan, I expected her to raise violent and\ntearful objections, but she didn't. She was made of far sterner stuff\nthan the women of the 20th Century. Not that she couldn't weep as\ncopiously or be just as whimsical on occasion; but she wouldn't weep for\nthe same reasons.\n\nShe just gave me an unfathomable look, in which there seemed to be a bit\nof pride, and asked eagerly for the details. I confess I was somewhat\ndisappointed that she could so courageously risk my loss, even though I\nwas amazed at her fortitude. But later I was to learn how little I knew\nher then.\n\nWe were ready to slide off at dawn the next morning. I had kissed Wilma\ngood-bye at our camp, and after a final conference over our plans, we\nboarded our craft and gently glided away over the tree tops on a course,\nwhich, after crossing three routes of the Han ships, would take us out\nover the Atlantic, off the Jersey coast, whence we would come up on\nNu-yok from the ocean.\n\nTwice we had to nose down and lie motionless on the ground near a route\nwhile Han ships passed. Those were tense moments. Had the green back of\nour ship been observed, we would have been disintegrated in a second.\nBut it wasn't.\n\nOnce over the water, however, we climbed in a great spiral, ten miles in\ndiameter, until our altimeter registered ten miles. Here Gibbons shut\noff his rocket motor, and we floated, far above the level of the\nAtlantic liners, whose course was well to the north of us anyhow, and\nwaited for nightfall.\n\nThen Gibbons turned from his control long enough to grin at me.\n\n\"I have a surprise for you, Tony,\" he said, throwing back the lid of\nwhat I had supposed was a big supply case. And with a sigh of relief,\nWilma stepped out of the case.\n\n\"If you 'go into zero' (a common expression of the day for being\nannihilated by the disintegrator ray), you don't think I'm going to let\nyou go alone, do you, Tony? I couldn't believe my ears last night when\nyou spoke of going without me, until I realized that you are still five\nhundred years behind the times in lots of ways. Don't you know, dear\nheart, that you offered me the greatest insult a husband could give a\nwife? You didn't, of course.\"\n\nThe others, it seemed, had all been in on the secret, and now they would\nhave kidded me unmercifully, except that Wilma's eyes blazed\ndangerously.\n\nAt nightfall, we maneuvered to a position directly above the city. This\ntook some time and calculation on the part of Bill Barker, who explained\nto me that he had to determine our point by ultronic bearings. The\nslightest resort to an electronic instrument, he feared, might be\ndetected by our enemies' locators. In fact, we did not dare bring our\nswooper any lower than five miles for fear that its capacity might be\nreflected in their instruments.\n\nFinally, however, he succeeded in locating above the central tower of\nthe city.\n\n\"If my calculations are as much as ten feet off,\" he remarked with\nconfidence, \"I'll eat the tower. Now the rest is up to you, Mort. See\nwhat you can do to hold her steady. No--here, watch this indicator--the\nred beam, not the green one. See--if you keep it exactly centered on the\nneedle, you're O.K. The width of the beam represents seventeen feet. The\ntower platform is fifty feet square, so we've got a good margin to work\non.\"\n\nFor several moments we watched as Gibbons bent over his levers,\nconstantly adjusting them with deft touches of his fingers. After a bit\nof wavering, the beam remained centered on the needle.\n\n\"Now,\" I said, \"let's drop.\"\n\nI opened the trap and looked down, but quickly shut it again when I felt\nthe air rushing out of the ship into the rarefied atmosphere in a\ntorrent. Gibbons literally yelled a protest from his instrument board.\n\n\"I forgot,\" I mumbled. \"Silly of me. Of course, we'll have to drop out\nof compartment.\"\n\nThe compartment, to which I referred, was similar to those in some of\nthe 20th Century submarines. We all entered it. There was barely room\nfor us to stand, shoulder to shoulder. With some struggles, we got into\nour special air helmets and adjusted the pressure. At our signal,\nGibbons exhausted the air in the compartment, pumping it into the body\nof the ship, and as the little signal light flashed, Wilma threw open\nthe hatch.\n\nSetting the ultron-wire reel, I climbed through, and began to slide down\ngently.\n\nWe all had our belts on, of course, adjusted to a weight balance of but\na few ounces. And the five-mile reel of ultron wire that was to be our\nguide, was of gossamer fineness, though, anyway, I believe it would have\nlifted the full weight of the five of us, so strong and tough was this\ninvisible metal. As an extra precaution, since the wire was of the\npurest metal, and therefore totally invisible, even in daylight, we all\nhad our belts hooked on small rings that slid down the wire.\n\nI went down with the end of the wire. Wilma followed a few feet above\nme, then Barker, Gaunt and Blash. Gibbons, of course, stayed behind to\nhold the ship in position and control the paying out of the line. We all\nhad our ultrophones in place inside our air helmets, and so could\nconverse with one another and with Gibbons. But at Wilma's suggestion,\nalthough we would have liked to let the Big Boss listen in, we kept them\nadjusted to short-range work, for fear that those who had been clearing\nwith the Hans, and against whom we were on a raid for evidence, might\nalso pick up our conversation. We had no fear that the Hans would hear\nus. In fact, we had the added advantage that, even after we landed, we\ncould converse freely without danger of their hearing our voices through\nour air helmets.\n\nFor a while I could see nothing below but utter darkness. Then I\nrealized, from the feel of the air as much as from anything, that we\nwere sinking through a cloud layer. We passed through two more cloud\nlayers before anything was visible to us.\n\nThen there came under my gaze, about two miles below, one of the most\nbeautiful sights I have ever seen; the soft, yet brilliant, radiance of\nthe great Han city of Nu-yok. Every foot of its structural members\nseemed to glow with a wonderful incandescence, tower piled up on tower,\nand all built on the vast base-mass of the city, which, so I had been\ntold, sheered upward from the surface of the rivers to a height of 728\nlevels.\n\nThe city, I noticed with some surprise, did not cover anything like the\nsame area as the New York of the 20th Century. It occupied, as a matter\nof fact, only the lower half of Manhattan Island, with one section\nstraddling the East River, and spreading out sufficiently over what once\nhad been Brooklyn, to provide berths for the great liners and other air\ncraft.\n\nStraight beneath my feet was a tiny dark patch. It seemed the only spot\nin the entire city that was not aflame with radiance. This was the\ncentral tower, in the top floors of which were housed the vast library\nof record files and the main projectoscope plant.\n\n\"You can shoot the wire now,\" I ultrophoned Gibbons, and let go the\nlittle weighted knob. It dropped like a plummet, and we followed with\nconsiderable speed, but braking our descent with gloved hands\nsufficiently to see whether the knob, on which a faint light glowed as a\nsignal for ourselves, might be observed by any Han guard or night\nprowler. Apparently it was not, and we again shot down with accelerated\nspeed.\n\nWe landed on the roof of the tower without any mishap, and fortunately\nfor our plan, in darkness. Since there was nothing above it on which it\nwould have been worth while to shed illumination, or from which there\nwas any need to observe it, the Hans had neglected to light the tower\nroof, or indeed to occupy it at all. This was the reason we had selected\nit as our landing place.\n\nAs soon as Gibbons had our word, he extinguished the knob light, and the\nknob, as well as the wire, became totally invisible. At our ultrophoned\nword, he would light it again.\n\n\"No gun play now,\" I warned. \"Swords only, and then only if absolutely\nnecessary.\"\n\nClosely bunched, and treading as lightly as only inertron-belted people\ncould, we made our way cautiously through a door and down an inclined\nplane to the floor below, where Gaunt and Blash assured us the military\noffices were located.\n\nTwice Barker cautioned us to stop as we were about to pass in front of\nmirror-like \"windows\" in the passage wall, and flattening ourselves to\nthe floor, we crawled past them.\n\n\"Projectoscopes,\" he said. \"Probably on automatic record only, at this\ntime of night. Still, we don't want to leave any records for them to\nstudy after we're gone.\"\n\n\"Were you ever here before?\" I asked.\n\n\"No,\" he replied, \"but I haven't been studying their electrophone\ncommunications for seven years without being able to recognize these\nmachines when I run across them.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\nThe Fight in the Tower\n\n\nSo far we had not laid eyes on a Han. The tower seemed deserted. Blash\nand Gaunt, however, assured me that there would be at least one man on\n\"duty\" in the military offices, though he would probably be asleep, and\ntwo or three in the library proper and the projectoscope plant.\n\n\"We've got to put them out of commission,\" I said. \"Did you bring the\n'dope' cans, Wilma?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" she said, \"two for each. Here,\" and she distributed them.\n\nWe were now two levels below the roof, and at the point where we were to\nseparate.\n\nI did not want to let Wilma out of my sight, but it was necessary.\n\nAccording to our plan, Barker was to make his way to the projectoscope\nplant, Blash and I to the library, and Wilma and Gaunt to the military\noffice.\n\nBlash and I traversed a long corridor, and paused at the great arched\ndoorway of the library. Cautiously we peered in. Seated at three great\nswitchboards were library operatives. Occasionally one of them would\nreach lazily for a lever, or sleepily push a button, as little numbered\nlights winked on and off. They were answering calls for electrograph and\nviewplate records on all sorts of subjects from all sections of the\ncity.\n\nI apprised my companions of the situation.\n\n\"Better wait a bit,\" Blash added. \"The calls will lessen shortly.\"\n\nWilma reported an officer in the military office sound asleep.\n\n\"Give him the can, then,\" I said.\n\nBarker was to do nothing more than keep watch in the projectoscope\nplant, and a few moments later he reported himself well concealed, with\na splendid view of the floor.\n\n\"I think we can take a chance now,\" Blash said to me, and at my nod, he\nopened the lid of his dope can. Of course, the fumes did not affect us,\nthrough our helmets. They were absolutely without odor or visibility,\nand in a few seconds the librarians were unconscious. We stepped into\nthe room.\n\nThere ensued considerable cautious observation and experiment on the\npart of Gaunt, working from the military office, and Blash in the\nlibrary; while Wilma and I, with drawn swords and sharply attuned\nmicrophones, stood guard, and occasionally patrolled nearby corridors.\n\n\"I hear something approaching,\" Wilma said after a bit, with excitement\nin her voice. \"It's a soft, gliding sound.\"\n\n\"That's an elevator somewhere,\" Barker cut in from the projectoscope\nfloor. \"Can you locate it? I can't hear it.\"\n\n\"It's to the east of me,\" she replied.\n\n\"And to my west,\" said I, faintly catching it. \"It's between us, Wilma,\nand nearer you than me. Be careful. Have you got any information yet,\nBlash and Gaunt?\"\n\n\"Getting it now,\" one of them replied. \"Give us two minutes more.\"\n\n\"Keep at it then,\" I said. \"We'll guard.\"\n\nThe soft, gliding sound ceased.\n\n\"I think it's very close to me,\" Wilma almost whispered. \"Come closer,\nTony. I have a feeling something is going to happen. I've never known my\nnerves to get taut like this without reason.\"\n\nIn some alarm, I launched myself down the corridor in a great leap\ntoward the intersection whence I knew I could see her.\n\nIn the middle of my leap my ultrophone registered her gasp of alarm. The\nnext instant I glided to a stop at the intersection to see Wilma backing\ntoward the door of the military office, her sword red with blood, and an\ninert form on the corridor floor. Two other Hans were circling to either\nside of her with wicked-looking knives, while a third evidently a high\nofficer, judging by the resplendence of his garb tugged desperately to\nget an electrophone instrument out of a bulky pocket. If he ever gave\nthe alarm, there was no telling what might happen to us.\n\nI was at least seventy feet away, but I crouched low and sprang with\nevery bit of strength in my legs. It would be more correct to say that I\ndived, for I reached the fellow head on, with no attempt to draw my legs\nbeneath me.\n\nSome instinct must have warned him, for he turned suddenly as I hurtled\nclose to him. But by this time I had sunk close to the floor, and had\nstiffened myself rigidly, lest a dragging knee or foot might just\nprevent my reaching him. I brought my blade upward and over. It was a\nvicious slash that laid him open, bisecting him from groin to chin, and\nhis dead body toppled down on me, as I slid to a tangled stop.\n\nThe other two startled, turned. Wilma leaped at one and struck him down\nwith a side slash. I looked up at this instant, and the dazed fear on\nhis face at the length of her leap registered vividly. The Hans knew\nnothing of our inertron belts, it seemed, and these leaps and dives of\nours filled them with terror.\n\nAs I rose to my feet, a gory mess, Wilma, with a poise and speed which I\nfound time to admire even in this crisis, again leaped. This time she\ndove head first as I had done and, with a beautifully executed thrust,\nran the last Han through the throat.\n\nUncertainly, she scrambled to her feet, staggered queerly, and then sank\ngently prone on the corridor. She had fainted.\n\nAt this juncture, Blash and Gaunt reported with elation that they had\nthe record we wanted.\n\n\"Back to the roof, everybody!\" I ordered, as I picked Wilma up in my\narms. With her inertron belt, she felt as light as a feather.\n\nGaunt joined me at once from the military office, and at the\nintersection of the corridor, we came upon Blash waiting for us. Barker,\nhowever, was not in evidence.\n\n\"Where are you, Barker?\" I called.\n\n\"Go ahead,\" he replied. \"I'll be with you on the roof at once.\"\n\nWe came out in the open without any further mishap, and I instructed\nGibbons in the ship to light the knob on the end of the ultron wire. It\nflashed dully a few feet away from us. Just how he had maneuvered the\nship to keep our end of the line in position, without its swinging in a\ntremendous arc, I have never been able to understand. Had not the night\nbeen an unusually still one, he could not have checked the initial\npendulum-like movements. As it was, there was considerable air current\nat certain of the levels, and in different directions too. But Gibbons\nwas an expert of rare ability and sensitivity in the handling of a\nrocket ship, and he managed, with the aid of his delicate instruments,\nto sense the drifts almost before they affected the fine ultron wire,\nand to neutralize them with little shifts in the position of the ship.\n\nBlash and Gaunt fastened their rings to the wire, and I hooked my own\nand Wilma's on, too. But on looking around, I found Barker was still\nmissing.\n\n\"Barker, come!\" I called. \"We're waiting.\"\n\n\"Coming!\" he replied, and indeed, at that instant, his figure appeared\nup the ramp. He chuckled as he fastened his ring to the wire, and said\nsomething about a little surprise he had left for the Hans.\n\n\"Don't reel in the wire more than a few hundred feet,\" I instructed\nGibbons. \"It will take too long to wind it in. We'll float up, and when\nwe're aboard, we can drop it.\"\n\nIn order to float up, we had to dispense with a pound or two of weight\napiece. We hurled our swords from us, and kicked off our shoes as\nGibbons reeled up the line a bit, and then letting go of the wire, began\nto hum upward on our rings with increasing velocity.\n\nThe rush of air brought Wilma to, and I hastily explained to her that we\nhad been successful. Receding far below us now, I could see our dully\nshining knob swinging to and fro in an ever widening arc, as it crossed\nand recrossed the black square of the tower roof. As an extra\nprecaution, I ordered Gibbons to shut off the light, and to show one\nfrom the belly of the ship, for so great was our speed now, that I began\nto fear we would have difficulty in checking ourselves. We were\nliterally falling upward, and with terrific acceleration.\n\nFortunately, we had several minutes in which to solve this difficulty,\nwhich none of us, strangely enough, had foreseen. It was Gibbons who\nfound the answer.\n\n\"You'll be all right if all of you grab the wire tight when I give the\nword,\" he said. \"First I'll start reeling it in at full speed. You won't\nget much of a jar, and then I'll decrease its speed again gradually, and\nits weight will hold you back. Are you ready? One--two--three!\"\n\nWe all grabbed tightly with our gloved hands as he gave the word. We\nmust have been rising a good bit faster than he figured, however, for it\nwrenched our arms considerably, and the maneuver set up a sickening\npendulum motion.\n\nFor a while all we could do was swing there in an arc that may have been\na quarter of a mile across, about three and a half miles above the city,\nand still more than a mile from our ship.\n\nGibbons skilfully took up the slack as our momentum pulled up the line.\nThen at last we had ourselves under control again, and continued our\nupward journey, checking our speed somewhat with our gloves.\n\nThere was not one of us who did not breathe a big sigh of relief when we\nscrambled through the hatch safely into the ship again, cast off the\nultron line and slammed the trap shut.\n\nLittle realizing that we had a still more terrible experience to go\nthrough, we discussed the information Blash and Gaunt had between them\nextracted from the Han records, and the advisability of ultrophoning\nHart at once.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nThe Walls of Hell\n\n\nThe traitors were, it seemed, a degenerate gang of Americans, located a\nfew miles north of Nu-yok on the wooded banks of the Hudson, the\nSinsings. They had exchanged scraps of information to the Hans in return\nfor several old repellor-ray machines, and the privilege of tuning in on\nthe Han electronic power broadcast for their operation, provided their\nships agreed to subject themselves to the orders of the Han traffic\noffice, while aloft.\n\nThe rest wanted to ultrophone their news at once, since there was always\ndanger that we might never get back to the gang with it.\n\nI objected, however. The Sinsings would be likely to pick up our\nmessage. Even if we used the directional projector, they might have\nscouts out to the west and south in the big inter-gang stretches of\ncountry. They would flee to Nu-yok and escape the punishment they\nmerited. It seemed to be vitally important that they should not, for the\nsake of example to other weak groups among the American gangs, as well\nas to prevent a crisis in which they might clear more vital information\nto the enemy.\n\n\"Out to sea again,\" I ordered Gibbons. \"They'll be less likely to look\nfor us in that direction.\"\n\n\"Easy, Boss, easy,\" he replied. \"Wait until we get up a mile or two\nmore. They must have discovered evidences of our raid by now, and their\ndis-ray wall may go in operation any moment.\"\n\nEven as he spoke, the ship lurched downward and to one side.\n\n\"There it is!\" he shouted. \"Hang on, everybody. We're going to nose\nstraight up!\" And he flipped the rocket-motor control wide open.\n\nLooking through one of the rear ports, I could see a nebulous, luminous\nring, and on all sides the atmosphere took on a faint iridescence.\n\nWe were almost over the destructive range of the disintegrator-ray wall,\na hollow cylinder of annihilation shooting upward from a solid ring of\ngenerators surrounding the city. It was the main defense system of the\nHans, which had never been used except in periodic tests. They may or\nmay not have suspected that an American rocket ship was within the\ncylinder; probably they had turned on their generators more as a\nprecaution to prevent any reaching a position above the city.\n\nBut even at our present great height, we were in great danger. It was a\nquestion how much we might have been harmed by the rays themselves, for\ntheir effective range was not much more than seven or eight miles. The\ngreater danger lay in the terrific downward rush of air within the\ncylinder to replace that which was being burned into nothingness by the\ncontinual play of the disintegrators. The air fell into the cylinder\nwith the force of a gale. It would be rushing toward the wall from the\noutside with terrific force also, but, naturally, the effect was\nintensified on the interior.\n\nOur ship vibrated and trembled. We had only one chance of escape--to\nfight our way well above the current. To drift down with it meant\nultimately, and inevitably, to be sucked into the destruction wall at\nsome lower level.\n\nBut very gradually and jerkily our upward movement, as shown on the\nindicators, began to increase, and after an hour of desperate struggle\nwe were free of the maelstrom and into the rarefied upper levels. The\nterror beneath us was now invisible through several layers of cloud\nformations.\n\nGibbons brought the ship back to an even keel, and drove her eastward\ninto one of the most brilliantly gorgeous sunrises I have ever seen.\n\nWe described a great circle to the south and west, in a long easy dive,\nfor he had cut out his rocket motors to save them as much as possible.\nWe had drawn terrifically on their fuel reserves in our battle with the\nelements. For the moment, the atmosphere below cleared, and we could see\nthe Jersey coast far beneath, like a great map.\n\n\"We're not through yet,\" remarked Gibbons suddenly, pointing at his\nperiscope, and adjusting it to telescopic focus. \"A Han ship, and a\n'drop ship' at that--and he's seen us. If he whips that beam of his on\nus, we're done.\"\n\nI gazed, fascinated, at the viewplate. What I saw was a cigar-shaped\nship not dissimilar to our own in design, and from the proportional size\nof its ports, of about the same size as our swoopers. We learned later\nthat they carried crews, for the most part of not more than three or\nfour men. They had streamline hulls and tails that embodied\nuniversal-jointed double fish-tail rudders. In operation they rose to\ngreat heights on their powerful repellor rays, then gathered speed\neither by a straight nose dive, or an inclined dive in which they\nsometimes used the repellor ray slanted at a sharp angle. He was already\nabove us, though several miles to the north. He could, of course, try to\nget on our tail and \"spear\" us with his beam as he dropped at us from a\ngreat height.\n\nSuddenly his beam blazed forth in a blinding flash, whipping downward\nslowly to our right. He went through a peculiar corkscrew-like\nevolution, evidently maneuvering to bring his beam to bear on us with a\nspiral motion.\n\nGibbons instantly sent our ship into a series of evolutions that must\nhave looked like those of a frightened hen. Alternately, he used the\nforward and the reverse rocket blasts, and in varying degree. We\nfluttered, we shot suddenly to right and left, and dropped like a\nplummet in uncertain movements. But all the time the Han scout dropped\ntoward us, determinedly whipping the air around us with his beam. Once\nit sliced across beneath us, not more than a hundred feet, and we\ndropped with a jar into the pocket formed by the destruction of the air.\n\nHe had dropped to within a mile of us, and was coming with the speed of\na projectile, when the end came. Gibbons always swore it was sheer luck.\nMaybe it was, but I like pilots who are lucky that way.\n\nIn the midst of a dizzy, fluttering maneuver of our own, with the Han\nship enlarging to our gaze with terrifying rapidity, and its beam slowly\nslicing toward us in what looked like certain destruction within the\nsecond, I saw Gibbons' fingers flick at the lever of his rocket gun and\na split second later the Han ship flew apart like a clay pigeon.\n\nWe staggered, and fluttered crazily for several moments while Gibbons\nstruggled to bring our ship into balance, and a section of about four\nsquare feet in the side of the ship near the stern slowly crumbled like\nrusted metal. His beam actually had touched us, but our explosive rocket\nhad got him a thousandth of a second sooner.\n\nPart of our rudder had been annihilated, and our motor damaged. But we\nwere able to swoop gently back across Jersey, fortunately crossing the\nship lanes without sighting any more Han craft, and finally settling to\nrest in the little glade beneath the trees, near Hart's camp.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\nThe New Boss\n\n\nWe had ultrophoned our arrival and the Big Boss himself, surrounded by\nthe Council, was on hand to welcome us and learn our news. In turn we\nwere informed that during the night a band of raiding Bad Bloods,\ndisguised under the insignia of the Altoonas, a gang some distance to\nthe west of us, had destroyed several of our camps before our people had\nrallied and driven them off. Their purpose, evidently, had been to\nembroil us with the Altoonas, but fortunately, one of our exchanges\nrecognized the Bad Blood leader, who had been slain.\n\nThe Big Boss had mobilized the full raiding force of the Gang, and was\non the point of heading an expedition for the extermination of the Bad\nBloods.\n\nI looked around the grim circle of the sub-bosses, and realized the fate\nof America, at this moment, lay in their hands. Their temper demanded\nthe immediate expenditure of our full effort in revenging ourselves for\nthis raid. But the strategic exigencies, to my mind, quite clearly\ndemanded the instant and absolute extermination of the Sinsings. It\nmight be only a matter of hours, for all we knew, before these degraded\npeople would barter clues to the American ultronic secrets to the Hans.\n\n\"How large a force have we?\" I asked Hart.\n\n\"Every man and maid who can be spared,\" he replied. \"That gives us seven\nhundred married and unmarried men, and three hundred girls, more than\nthe entire Bad Blood Gang. Every one is equipped with belts,\nultrophones, rocket guns and swords, and all fighting mad.\"\n\nI meditated how I might put the matter to these determined men, and was\nvaguely conscious that they were awaiting my words.\n\nFinally I began to speak. I do not remember to this day just what I\nsaid. I talked calmly, with due regard for their passion, but with deep\nconviction. I went over the information we had collected, point by\npoint, building my case logically, and painting a lurid picture of the\ndanger impending in that half-alliance between the Sinsings and the Hans\nof Nu-yok. I became impassioned, culminating, I believe, with a vow to\nproceed single-handed against the hereditary enemies of our race, \"if\nthe Wyomings were blindly set on placing a gang feud ahead of honor and\nduty and the hopes of all America.\"\n\nAs I concluded, a great calm came over me, as of one detached. I had\nfelt much the same way during several crises in the First World War. I\ngazed from face to face, striving to read their expressions, and in a\nmood to make good my threat without any further heroics, if the decision\nwas against me.\n\nBut it was Hart who sensed the temper of the Council more quickly than I\ndid, and looked beyond it into the future.\n\nHe arose from the tree trunk on which he had been sitting.\n\n\"That settles it,\" he said, looking around the ring. \"I have felt this\nthing coming on for some time now. I'm sure the Council agrees with me\nthat there is among us a man more capable than I, to boss the Wyoming\nGang, despite his handicap of having had all too short a time in which\nto familiarize himself with our modern ways and facilities. Whatever I\ncan do to support his effective leadership, at any cost, I pledge myself\nto do.\"\n\nAs he concluded, he advanced to where I stood, and taking from his head\nthe green-crested helmet that constituted his badge of office, to my\nsurprise he placed it in my mechanically extended hand.\n\nThe roar of approval that went up from the Council members left me\ndazed. Somebody ultrophoned the news to the rest of the Gang, and even\nthough the earflaps of my helmet were turned up, I could hear the cheers\nwith which my invisible followers greeted me, from near and distant\nhillsides, camps and plants.\n\nMy first move was to make sure that the Phone Boss, in communicating\nthis news to the members of the Gang, had not re-broadcast my talk nor\nmentioned my plan of shifting the attack from the Bad Bloods to the\nSinsings. I was relieved by his assurance that he had not, for it would\nhave wrecked the whole plan. Everything depended upon our ability to\nsurprise the Sinsings.\n\nSo I pledged the Council and my companions to secrecy, and allowed it to\nbe believed that we were about to take to the air and the trees against\nthe Bad Bloods.\n\nThat outfit must have been badly scared, the way they were \"burning\" the\nether with ultrophone alibis and propaganda for the benefit of the more\ndistant gangs. It was their old game, and the only method by which they\nhad avoided extermination long ago from their immediate neighbors--these\nappeals to the spirit of American brotherhood, addressed to gangs too\nfar away to have had the sort of experience with them that had fallen to\nour lot.\n\nI chuckled. Here was another good reason for the shift in my plans. Were\nwe actually to undertake the exterminations of the Bad Bloods at once,\nit would have been a hard job to convince some of the gangs that we had\nnot been precipitate and unjustified. Jealousies and prejudices existed.\nThere were gangs which would give the benefit of the doubt to the Bad\nBloods, rather than to ourselves, and the issue was now hopelessly\nbeclouded with the clever lies that were being broadcast in an unceasing\nstream.\n\nBut the extermination of the Sinsings would be another thing. In the\nfirst place, there would be no warning of our action until it was all\nover, I hoped. In the second place, we would have indisputable proof, in\nthe form of their rep-ray ships and other paraphernalia, of their\ntraffic with the Hans; and the state of American prejudice, at the time\nof which I write held trafficking with the Hans a far more heinous thing\nthan even a vicious gang feud.\n\nI called an executive session of the Council at once. I wanted to\ninventory our military resources.\n\nI created a new office on the spot, that of \"Control Boss,\" and\nappointed Ned Garlin to the post, turning over his former responsibility\nas Plants Boss to his assistant. I needed someone, I felt, to tie in the\nrecords of the various functional activities of the campaign, and take\nover from me the task of keeping the records of them up to the minute.\n\nI received reports from the bosses of the ultrophone unit, and those of\nfood, transportation, fighting gear, chemistry, electronic activity and\nelectrophone intelligence, ultroscopes, air patrol and contact guard.\n\nMy ideas for the campaign, of course, were somewhat tinged with my 20th\nCentury experience, and I found myself faced with the task of working\nout a staff organization that was a composite of the best and most\neasily applied principles of business and military efficiency, as I knew\nthem from the viewpoint of immediate practicality.\n\nWhat I wanted was an organization that would be specialized,\nfunctionally, not as that indicated above, but from the angles of:\nintelligence as to the Sinsings' activities; intelligence as to Han\nactivities; perfection of communication with my own units; co-operation\nof field command; and perfect mobilization of emergency supplies and\nresources.\n\nIt took several hours of hard work with the Council to map out the plan.\nFirst we assigned functional experts and equipment to each \"Division\" in\naccordance with its needs. Then these in turn were reassigned by the new\nDivision Bosses to the Field Commands as needed, or as Independent or\nHeadquarters Units. The two intelligence divisions were named the White\nand the Yellow, indicating that one specialized on the American enemy\nand the other on the Mongolians.\n\nThe division in charge of our own communications, the assignment of\nultrophone frequencies and strengths, and the maintenance of operators\nand equipment, I called \"Communications.\"\n\nI named Bill Hearn to the post of Field Boss, in charge of the main or\nundetached fighting units, and to the Resources Division, I assigned all\nresponsibility for what few aircraft we had; and all transportation and\nsupply problems, I assigned to \"Resources.\" The functional bosses stayed\nwith this division.\n\nWe finally completed our organization with the assignment of liaison\nrepresentatives among the various divisions as needed.\n\nThus I had a \"Headquarters Staff\" composed of the Division Bosses who\nreported directly to Ned Garlin as Control Boss, or to Wilma as my\npersonal assistant. And each of the Division Bosses had a small staff of\nhis own.\n\nIn the final summing up of our personnel and resources, I found we had\nroughly a thousand \"troops,\" of whom some three hundred and fifty were,\nin what I called the Service Divisions, the rest being in Bill Hearn's\nField Division. This latter number, however, was cut down somewhat by\nthe assignment of numerous small units to detached service. Altogether,\nthe actual available fighting force, I figured, would number about five\nhundred, by the time we actually went into action.\n\nWe had only six small swoopers, but I had an ingenious plan in my mind,\nas the result of our little raid on Nu-yok, that would make this\nsufficient, since the reserves of inertron blocks were larger than I\nexpected to find them. The Resources Division, by packing its supply\ncases a bit tight, or by slipping in extra blocks of inertron, was able\nto reduce each to a weight of a few ounces. These easily could be\nfloated and towed by the swoopers in any quantity. Hitched to ultron\nlines, it would be a virtual impossibility for them to break loose.\n\nThe entire personnel, of course, was supplied with jumpers, and if each\nman and girl was careful to adjust balances properly, the entire number\ncould also be towed along through the air, grasping wires of ultron,\nswinging below the swoopers, or stringing out behind them.\n\nThere would be nothing tiring about this, because the strain would be no\ngreater than that of carrying a one or two pound weight in the hand,\nexcept for air friction at high speeds. But to make doubly sure that we\nshould lose none of our personnel, I gave strict orders that the belts\nand tow lines should be equipped with rings and hooks.\n\nSo great was the efficiency of the fundamental organization and\ndiscipline of the Gang, that we got under way at nightfall.\n\nOne by one the swoopers eased into the air, each followed by its long\ntrain or \"kite-tail\" of humanity and supply cases hanging lightly from\nits tow line. For convenience, the tow lines were made of an alloy of\nultron which, unlike the metal itself, is visible.\n\nAt first these \"tails\" hung downward, but as the ships swung into\nformation and headed eastward toward the Bad Blood territory, gathering\nspeed, they began to string out behind. And swinging low from each ship\non heavily weighted lines, ultroscope, ultrophone, and straight-vision\nobservers keenly scanned the countryside, while intelligence men in the\nswoopers above bent over their instrument boards and viewplates.\n\nLeaving Control Boss Ned Garlin temporarily in charge of affairs, Wilma\nand I dropped a weighted line from our ship, and slid down about half\nway to the under lookouts, that is to say, about a thousand feet. The\nsensation of floating swiftly through the air like this, in the absolute\nsecurity of one's confidence in the inertron belt, was one of\nnever-ending delight to me.\n\nWe reascended into the swooper as the expedition approached the\nterritory of the Bad Bloods, and directed the preparations for the\nbombardment. It was part of my plan to appear to carry out the attack as\noriginally planned.\n\nAbout fifteen miles from their camps our ships came to a halt and\nmaintained their positions for a while with the idling blasts of their\nrocket motors, to give the ultroscope operators a chance to make a\nthorough examination of the territory below us, for it was very\nimportant that this next step in our program should be carried out with\nall secrecy.\n\nAt length they reported the ground below us entirely clear of any\nappearance of human occupation, and a gun unit of long-range specialists\nwas lowered with a dozen rocket guns, equipped with special automatic\ndevices that the Resources Division had developed at my request, a few\nhours before our departure. These were aiming and timing devices. After\ncalculating the range, elevation and rocket charges carefully, the guns\nwere left, concealed in a ravine, and the men were hauled up into the\nship again. At the predetermined hour, those unmanned rocket guns would\nbegin automatically to bombard the Bad Bloods' hillsides, shifting their\naim and elevation slightly with each shot, as did many of our artillery\npieces in the First World War.\n\nIn the meantime, we turned south about twenty miles, and grounded,\nwaiting for the bombardment to begin before we attempted to sneak across\nthe Han ship lane. I was relying for security on the distraction that\nthe bombardment might furnish the Han observers.\n\nIt was tense work waiting, but the affair went through as planned, our\nsquadron drifting across the route high enough to enable the ships'\ntails of troops and supply cases to clear the ground.\n\nIn crossing the second ship route, out along the Beaches of Jersey, we\nwere not so successful in escaping observation. A Han ship came speeding\nalong at a very low elevation. We caught it on our electronic location\nand direction finders, and also located it with our ultroscopes, but it\ncame so fast and so low that I thought it best to remain where we had\ngrounded the second time, and lie quiet, rather than get under way and\ncross in front of it.\n\nThe point was this. While the Hans had no such devices as our\nultroscopes, with which we could see in the dark (within certain\nlimitations of course), and their electronic instruments would be\nvirtually useless in uncovering our presence, since all but natural\nelectronic activities were carefully eliminated from our apparatus,\nexcept electrophone receivers (which are not easily spotted), the Hans\ndid have some very highly sensitive sound devices which operated with\ngreat efficiency in calm weather, so far as sounds emanating from the\nair were concerned. But the \"ground roar\" greatly confused their use of\nthese instruments in the location of specific sounds floating up from\nthe surface of the earth.\n\nThis ship must have caught some slight noise of ours, however, in its\nsensitive instruments, for we heard its electronic devices go into play,\nand picked up the routine report of the noise to its Base Ship\nCommander. But from the nature of the conversation, I judged they had\nnot identified it, and were, in fact, more curious about the detonations\nthey were picking up now from the Bad Blood lands some sixty miles or so\nto the west.\n\nImmediately after this ship had shot by, we took the air again, and\nfollowing much the same route that I had taken the previous night,\nclimbed in a long semi-circle out over the ocean, swung toward the north\nand finally the west. We set our course, however, for the Sinsings' land\nnorth of Nu-yok, instead of for the city itself.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\nThe Finger of Doom\n\n\nAs we crossed the Hudson River, a few miles north of the city, we\ndropped several units of the Yellow Intelligence Division, with full\ninstrumental equipment. Their apparatus cases were nicely balanced at\nonly a few ounces weight each, and the men used their chute capes to\nease their drops.\n\nWe recrossed the river a little distance above and began dropping White\nIntelligence units and a few long and short range gun units. Then we\nheld our position until we began to get reports. Gradually we ringed the\nterritory of the Sinsings, our observation units working busily and\npatiently at their locators and scopes, both aloft and aground, until\nGarlin finally turned to me with the remark:\n\n\"The map circle is complete now, Boss. We've got clear locations all the\nway around them.\"\n\n\"Let me see it,\" I replied, and studied the illuminated viewplate map,\nwith its little overlapping circles of light that indicated spots proved\nclear of the enemy by ultroscopic observation.\n\nI nodded to Bill Hearn. \"Go ahead now, Hearn,\" I said, \"and place your\nbarrage men.\"\n\nHe spoke into his ultrophone, and three of the ships began to glide in a\nwide ring around the enemy territory. Every few seconds, at the word\nfrom his Unit Boss, a gunner would drop off the wire, and slipping the\nclasp of his chute cape, drift down into the darkness below.\n\nBill formed two lines, parallel to and facing the river, and enclosing\nthe entire territory of the enemy between them. Above and below,\nstraddling the river, were two defensive lines. These latter were merely\nto hold their positions. The others were to close in toward each other,\npushing a high-explosive barrage five miles ahead of them. When the two\nbarrages met, both lines were to switch to short-vision-range barrage\nand continue to close in on any of the enemy who might have drifted\nthrough the previous curtain of fire.\n\nIn the meantime Bill kept his reserves, a picked corps of a hundred men\n(the same that had accompanied Hart and myself in our fight with the Han\nsquadron) in the air, divided about equally among the \"kite-tails\" of\nfour ships.\n\nA final roll call, by units, companies, divisions and functions,\nestablished the fact that all our forces were in position. No Han\nactivity was reported, and no Han broadcasts indicated any suspicion of\nour expedition. Nor was there any indication that the Sinsings had any\nknowledge of the fate in store for them. The idling of rep-ray\ngenerators was reported from the center of their camp, obviously those\nof the ships the Hans had given them--the price of their treason to\ntheir race.\n\nAgain I gave the word, and Hearn passed on the order to his\nsubordinates.\n\nFar below us, and several miles to the right and left, the two barrage\nlines made their appearance. From the great height to which we had\nrisen, they appeared like lines of brilliant, winking lights, and the\ndetonations were muffled by the distances into a sort of rumbling,\ndistant thunder. Hearn and his assistants were very busy: measuring,\ncalculating, and snapping out ultrophone orders to unit commanders that\nresulted in the straightening of lines and the closing of gaps in the\nbarrage.\n\nThe White Division Boss reported the utmost confusion in the Sinsing\norganization. They were, as might be expected, an inefficient, loosely\ndisciplined gang, and repeated broadcasts for help to neighboring gangs.\nIgnoring the fact that the Mongolians had not used explosives for many\ngenerations, they nevertheless jumped at the conclusion that they were\nbeing raided by the Hans. Their frantic broadcasts persisted in this\nthought, despite the nervous electrophonic inquiries of the Hans\nthemselves, to whom the sound of the battle was evidently audible, and\nwho were trying to locate the trouble.\n\nAt this point, the swooper I had sent south toward the city went into\naction as a diversion, to keep the Hans at home. Its \"kite-tail\" loaded\nwith long-range gunners, using the most highly explosive rockets we had,\nhung invisible in the darkness of the sky and bombarded the city from a\ndistance of about five miles. With an entire city to shoot at, and the\nobject of creating as much commotion therein as possible, regardless of\nactual damage, the gunners had no difficulty in hitting the mark. I\ncould see the glow of the city and the stabbing flashes of exploding\nrockets. In the end, the Hans, uncertain as to what was going on, fell\nback on a defensive policy, and shot their \"hell cylinder,\" or wall of\nupturned disintegrator rays into operation. That, of course, ended our\nbombardment of them. The rays were a perfect defense, disintegrating our\nrockets as they were reached.\n\nIf they had not sent out ships before turning on the rays, and if they\nhad none within sufficient radius already in the air, all would be well.\n\nI queried Garlin on this, but he assured me Yellow Intelligence reported\nno indications of Han ships nearer than 800 miles. This would probably\ngive us a free hand for a while, since most of their instruments\nrecorded only imperfectly or not at all, through the death wall.\n\nRequisitioning one of the viewplates of the headquarters ship, and the\nservices of an expert operator, I instructed him to focus on our lines\nbelow. I wanted a close-up of the men in action.\n\nHe began to manipulate his controls and chaotic shadows moved rapidly\nacross the plate, fading in and out of focus, until he reached an\nadjustment that gave me a picture of the forest floor, apparently 100\nfeet wide, with the intervening branches and foliage of the trees\nappearing like shadows that melted into reality a few feet above the\nground.\n\nI watched one man setting up his long-gun with skillful speed. His lips\npursed slightly as though he were whistling, as he adjusted the tall\ntripod on which the long tube was balanced. Swiftly he twirled the knobs\ncontrolling the aim and elevation of his piece. Then, lifting a belt of\nammunition from the big box, which itself looked heavy enough to break\ndown the spindly tripod, he inserted the end of it in the lock of his\ntube and touched the proper combination of buttons.\n\nThen he stepped aside, and occupied himself with peering carefully\nthrough the trees ahead. Not even a tremor shook the tube, but I knew\nthat at intervals of something less than a second, it was discharging\nsmall projectiles which, traveling under their own continuously reduced\npower, were arching into the air, to fall precisely five miles ahead and\nexplode with the force of eight-inch shells, such as we used in the\nFirst World War.\n\nAnother gunner, fifty feet to the right of him, waved a hand and called\nout something to him. Then, picking up his own tube and tripod, he\ngauged the distance between the trees ahead of him, and the height of\ntheir lowest branches, and bending forward a bit, flexed his muscles and\nleaped lightly, some twenty-five feet. Another leap took him another\ntwenty feet or so, where he began to set up his piece.\n\nI ordered my observer then to switch to the barrage itself. He got a\nclose focus on it, but this showed little except a continuous series of\nblinding flashes, which, from the viewplate, lit up the entire interior\nof the ship. An eight-hundred-foot focus proved better. I had thought\nthat some of our French and American artillery of the 20th Century had\nachieved the ultimate in mathematical precision of fire, but I had never\nseen anything to equal the accuracy of that line of terrific explosions\nas it moved steadily forward, mowing down trees as a scythe cuts grass\n(or used to 500 years ago), literally churning up the earth and the\nsplintered, blasted remains of the forest giants, to a depth of from ten\nto twenty feet.\n\nBy now the two curtains of fire were nearing each other, lines of\nvibrant, shimmering, continuous, brilliant destruction, inevitably\nsqueezing the panic-stricken Sinsings between them.\n\nEven as I watched, a group of them, who had been making a futile effort\nto get their three rep-ray machines into the air, abandoned their\nefforts, and rushed forth into the milling mob.\n\nI queried the Control Boss sharply on the futility of this attempt of\ntheirs, and learned that the Hans, apparently in doubt as to what was\ngoing on, had continued to \"play safe,\" and broken off their power\nbroadcast, after ordering all their own ships east of the Alleghenies to\nthe ground, for fear these ships they had traded to the Sinsings might\nbe used against them.\n\nAgain I turned to my viewplate, which was still focussed on the central\nsection of the Sinsing works. The confusion of the traitors was entirely\nthat of fear, for our barrage had not yet reached them.\n\nSome of them set up their long-guns and fired at random over the barrage\nline, then gave it up. They realized that they had no target to shoot\nat, no way of knowing whether our gunners were a few hundred feet or\nseveral miles beyond it.\n\nTheir ultrophone men, of whom they did not have many, stood around in\ntense attitudes, their helmet phones strapped around their ears,\nnervously fingering the tuning controls at their belts. Unquestionably\nthey must have located some of our frequencies, and overheard many of\nour reports and orders. But they were confused and disorganized. If they\nhad an Ultrophone Boss they evidently were not reporting to him in an\norganized way.\n\nThey were beginning to draw back now before our advancing fire. With\nintermittent desperation, they began to shoot over our barrage again,\nand the explosions of their rockets flashed at widely scattered points\nbeyond. A few took distance \"pot shots.\"\n\nOddly enough it was our own forces that suffered the first casualties in\nthe battle. Some of these distance shots by chance registered hits,\nwhile our men were under strict orders not to exceed their barrage\ndistances.\n\nSeen upon the ultroscope viewplate, the battle looked as though it were\nbeing fought in daylight, perhaps on a cloudy day, while the explosions\nof the rockets appeared as flashes of extra brilliance.\n\nThe two barrage lines were not more than five hundred feet apart when\nthe Sinsings resorted to tactics we had not foreseen. We noticed first\nthat they began to lighten themselves by throwing away extra equipment.\nA few of them in their excitement threw away too much, and shot suddenly\ninto the air. Then a scattering few floated up gently, followed by\nincreasing numbers, while still others, preserving a weight balance,\njumped toward the closing barrages and leaped high, hoping to clear\nthem. Some succeeded. We saw others blown about like leaves in a\nwindstorm, to crumple and drift slowly down, or else to fall into the\nbarrage, their belts blown from their bodies.\n\nHowever, it was not part of our plan to allow a single one of them to\nescape and find his way to the Hans. I quickly passed the word to Bill\nHearn to have the alternate men in his line raise their barrages and\nheard him bark out a mathematical formula to the Unit Bosses.\n\nWe backed off our ships as the explosions climbed into the air in\nstagger formation until they reached a height of three miles. I don't\nbelieve any of the Sinsings who tried to float away to freedom\nsucceeded.\n\nBut we did know later, that a few who leaped the barrage got away and\nultimately reached Nu-yok.\n\nIt was those who managed to jump the barrage who gave us the most\ntrouble. With half of our long-guns turned aloft, I foresaw we would not\nhave enough to establish successive ground barrages and so ordered the\nbarrage back two miles, from which positions our \"curtains\" began to\nclose in again, this time, however, gauged to explode, not on contact,\nbut thirty feet in the air. This left little chance for the Sinsings to\nleap either over or under it.\n\nGradually, the two barrages approached each other until they finally\nmet, and in the grey dawn the battle ended.\n\nOur own casualties amounted to forty-seven men in the ground forces,\neighteen of whom had been slain in hand to hand fighting with the few of\nthe enemy who managed to reach our lines, and sixty-two in the crew and\n\"kite-tail\" force of swooper No. 4, which had been located by one of\nthe enemy's ultroscopes and brought down with long-gun fire.\n\nSince nearly every member of the Sinsing Gang had, so far as we knew,\nbeen killed, we considered the raid a great success.\n\nIt had, however, a far greater significance than this. To all of us who\ntook part in the expedition, the effectiveness of our barrage tactics\ndefinitely established a confidence in our ability to overcome the Hans.\n\nAs I pointed out to Wilma:\n\n\"It has been my belief all along, dear, that the American explosive\nrocket is a far more efficient weapon than the disintegrator ray of the\nHans, once we can train all our gangs to use it systematically and in\nco-ordinated fashion. As a weapon in the hands of a single individual,\nshooting at a mark in direct line of vision, the rocket-gun is inferior\nin destructive power to the dis ray, except as its range may be a little\ngreater. The trouble is that to date it has been used only as we used\nour rifles and shot guns in the 20th Century. The possibilities of its\nuse as artillery, in laying barrages that advance along the ground, or\nclimb into the air, are tremendous.\n\n\"The dis ray inevitably reveals its source of emanation. The rocket gun\ndoes not. The dis ray can reach its target only in a straight line. The\nrocket may be made to travel in an arc, over intervening obstacles, to\nan unseen target.\n\n\"Nor must we forget that our ultronists now are promising us a perfect\nshield against the dis ray in inertron.\"\n\n\"I tremble though, Tony dear, when I think of the horrors that are ahead\nof us. The Hans are clever. They will develop defenses against our new\ntactics. And they are sure to mass against us not only the full force of\ntheir power in America, but the united forces of the World Empire. They\nare a cowardly race in one sense, but clever as the very Devils in Hell,\nand inheritors of a calm, ruthless, vicious persistency.\"\n\n\"Nevertheless,\" I prophesied, \"the Finger of Doom points squarely at\nthem today, and unless you and I are killed in the struggle, we shall\nlive to see America blast the Yellow Blight from the face of the Earth.\"\n\n\nTHE END.\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber's Note:\n\n    This etext was produced from _Amazing Stories_ August 1928.\n    Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.\n    copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and\n    typographical errors have been corrected without note.\n\n\n\n\n\nEnd of Project Gutenberg's Armageddon--2419 A.D., by Philip Francis Nowlan\n\nNow, answer the question based on the story asconcisely as you can, using a single phrase if possible. Do not provide any explanation.\n\nQuestion: What was Rodgers exposed to while investigating?\n\nAnswer:"}
{"question_id": 139, "category": "longbench_narrativeqa", "reference": ["Be responsible,keep your word and be wise and peaceful."], "prompt": "You are given a story, which can be either a novel or a movie script, and a question. Answer the question asconcisely as you can, using a single phrase if possible. Do not provide any explanation.\n\nStory: Produced by Angus Christian\n\n\n\n\n\nOTTO OF THE SILVER HAND\n\nBy Howard Pyle\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n     I.    The Dragon's House,\n     II.   How the Baron Went Forth to Shear,\n     III.  How the Baron Came Home Shorn,\n     IV.   The White Cross on the Hill,\n     V.    How Otto Dwelt at St. Michaelsburg,\n     VI.   How Otto Lived in the Dragon's House,\n     VII.  The Red Cock Crows on Drachenhausen,\n     VIII. In the House of the Dragon Scorner,\n     IX.   How One-eyed Hans Came to Trutz-Drachen,\n     X.    How Hans Brought Terror to the Kitchen,\n     XI.   How Otto was Saved,\n     XII.  A Ride for Life,\n     XIII. How Baron Conrad Held the Bridge,\n     XIV.  How Otto Saw the Great Emperor,\n\n\n\n\nFOREWORD.\n\nBetween the far away past history of the world, and that which lies near\nto us; in the time when the wisdom of the ancient times was dead and\nhad passed away, and our own days of light had not yet come, there lay a\ngreat black gulf in human history, a gulf of ignorance, of superstition,\nof cruelty, and of wickedness.\n\nThat time we call the dark or middle ages.\n\nFew records remain to us of that dreadful period in our world's history,\nand we only know of it through broken and disjointed fragments that have\nbeen handed down to us through the generations.\n\nYet, though the world's life then was so wicked and black, there yet\nremained a few good men and women here and there (mostly in peaceful\nand quiet monasteries, far from the thunder and the glare of the worlds\nbloody battle), who knew the right and the truth and lived according to\nwhat they knew; who preserved and tenderly cared for the truths that the\ndear Christ taught, and lived and died for in Palestine so long ago.\n\nThis tale that I am about to tell is of a little boy who lived and\nsuffered in those dark middle ages; of how he saw both the good and the\nbad of men, and of how, by gentleness and love and not by strife and\nhatred, he came at last to stand above other men and to be looked up to\nby all. And should you follow the story to the end, I hope you may find\nit a pleasure, as I have done, to ramble through those dark ancient\ncastles, to lie with little Otto and Brother John in the high\nbelfry-tower, or to sit with them in the peaceful quiet of the sunny\nold monastery garden, for, of all the story, I love best those early\npeaceful years that little Otto spent in the dear old White Cross on the\nHill.\n\nPoor little Otto's life was a stony and a thorny pathway, and it is well\nfor all of us nowadays that we walk it in fancy and not in truth.\n\n\n\n\nI. The Dragon's House.\n\nUp from the gray rocks, rising sheer and bold and bare, stood the walls\nand towers of Castle Drachenhausen. A great gate-way, with a heavy\niron-pointed portcullis hanging suspended in the dim arch above, yawned\nblackly upon the bascule or falling drawbridge that spanned a chasm\nbetween the blank stone walls and the roadway that winding down the\nsteep rocky slope to the little valley just beneath. There in the lap of\nthe hills around stood the wretched straw-thatched huts of the peasants\nbelonging to the castle--miserable serfs who, half timid, half fierce,\ntilled their poor patches of ground, wrenching from the hard soil barely\nenough to keep body and soul together. Among those vile hovels played\nthe little children like foxes about their dens, their wild, fierce eyes\npeering out from under a mat of tangled yellow hair.\n\nBeyond these squalid huts lay the rushing, foaming river, spanned by a\nhigh, rude, stone bridge where the road from the castle crossed it, and\nbeyond the river stretched the great, black forest, within whose gloomy\ndepths the savage wild beasts made their lair, and where in winter time\nthe howling wolves coursed their flying prey across the moonlit snow and\nunder the net-work of the black shadows from the naked boughs above.\n\nThe watchman in the cold, windy bartizan or watch-tower that clung to\nthe gray walls above the castle gateway, looked from his narrow window,\nwhere the wind piped and hummed, across the tree-tops that rolled in\nendless billows of green, over hill and over valley to the blue and\ndistant slope of the Keiserberg, where, on the mountain side, glimmered\nfar away the walls of Castle Trutz-Drachen.\n\nWithin the massive stone walls through which the gaping gateway led,\nthree great cheerless brick buildings, so forbidding that even the\nyellow sunlight could not light them into brightness, looked down, with\nrow upon row of windows, upon three sides of the bleak, stone courtyard.\nBack of and above them clustered a jumble of other buildings, tower and\nturret, one high-peaked roof overtopping another.\n\nThe great house in the centre was the Baron's Hall, the part to the left\nwas called the Roderhausen; between the two stood a huge square pile,\nrising dizzily up into the clear air high above the rest--the great\nMelchior Tower.\n\nAt the top clustered a jumble of buildings hanging high aloft in the\nwindy space a crooked wooden belfry, a tall, narrow watch-tower, and a\nrude wooden house that clung partly to the roof of the great tower and\npartly to the walls.\n\nFrom the chimney of this crazy hut a thin thread of smoke would now and\nthen rise into the air, for there were folk living far up in that empty,\nairy desert, and oftentimes wild, uncouth little children were seen\nplaying on the edge of the dizzy height, or sitting with their bare\nlegs hanging down over the sheer depths, as they gazed below at what was\ngoing on in the court-yard. There they sat, just as little children in\nthe town might sit upon their father's door-step; and as the sparrows\nmight fly around the feet of the little town children, so the circling\nflocks of rooks and daws flew around the feet of these air-born\ncreatures.\n\nIt was Schwartz Carl and his wife and little ones who lived far up there\nin the Melchior Tower, for it overlooked the top of the hill behind the\ncastle and so down into the valley upon the further side. There, day\nafter day, Schwartz Carl kept watch upon the gray road that ran like a\nribbon through the valley, from the rich town of Gruenstaldt to the rich\ntown of Staffenburgen, where passed merchant caravans from the one to\nthe other--for the lord of Drachenhausen was a robber baron.\n\nDong! Dong! The great alarm bell would suddenly ring out from the belfry\nhigh up upon the Melchior Tower. Dong! Dong! Till the rooks and daws\nwhirled clamoring and screaming. Dong! Dong! Till the fierce wolf-hounds\nin the rocky kennels behind the castle stables howled dismally in\nanswer. Dong! Dong!--Dong! Dong!\n\nThen would follow a great noise and uproar and hurry in the castle\ncourt-yard below; men shouting and calling to one another, the ringing\nof armor, and the clatter of horses' hoofs upon the hard stone. With the\ncreaking and groaning of the windlass the iron-pointed portcullis would\nbe slowly raised, and with a clank and rattle and clash of iron chains\nthe drawbridge would fall crashing. Then over it would thunder horse and\nman, clattering away down the winding, stony pathway, until the great\nforest would swallow them, and they would be gone.\n\nThen for a while peace would fall upon the castle courtyard, the cock\nwould crow, the cook would scold a lazy maid, and Gretchen, leaning out\nof a window, would sing a snatch of a song, just as though it were a\npeaceful farm-house, instead of a den of robbers.\n\nMaybe it would be evening before the men would return once more. Perhaps\none would have a bloody cloth bound about his head, perhaps one would\ncarry his arm in a sling; perhaps one--maybe more than one--would be\nleft behind, never to return again, and soon forgotten by all excepting\nsome poor woman who would weep silently in the loneliness of her daily\nwork.\n\nNearly always the adventurers would bring back with them pack-horses\nladen with bales of goods. Sometimes, besides these, they would return\nwith a poor soul, his hands tied behind his back and his feet beneath\nthe horse's body, his fur cloak and his flat cap wofully awry. A while\nhe would disappear in some gloomy cell of the dungeon-keep, until an\nenvoy would come from the town with a fat purse, when his ransom would\nbe paid, the dungeon would disgorge him, and he would be allowed to go\nupon his way again.\n\nOne man always rode beside Baron Conrad in his expeditions and\nadventures a short, deep-chested, broad-shouldered man, with sinewy arms\nso long that when he stood his hands hung nearly to his knees.\n\nHis coarse, close-clipped hair came so low upon his brow that only a\nstrip of forehead showed between it and his bushy, black eyebrows. One\neye was blind; the other twinkled and gleamed like a spark under the\npenthouse of his brows. Many folk said that the one-eyed Hans had drunk\nbeer with the Hill-man, who had given him the strength of ten, for he\ncould bend an iron spit like a hazel twig, and could lift a barrel of\nwine from the floor to his head as easily as though it were a basket of\neggs.\n\nAs for the one-eyed Hans he never said that he had not drunk beer with\nthe Hill-man, for he liked the credit that such reports gave him with\nthe other folk. And so, like a half savage mastiff, faithful to death\nto his master, but to him alone, he went his sullen way and lived his\nsullen life within the castle walls, half respected, half feared by the\nother inmates, for it was dangerous trifling with the one-eyed Hans.\n\n\n\n\nII. How the Baron went Forth to Shear.\n\nBaron Conrad and Baroness Matilda sat together at their morning meal\nbelow their raised seats stretched the long, heavy wooden table, loaded\nwith coarse food--black bread, boiled cabbage, bacon, eggs, a great\nchine from a wild boar, sausages, such as we eat nowadays, and flagons\nand jars of beer and wine, Along the board sat ranged in the order of\nthe household the followers and retainers. Four or five slatternly women\nand girls served the others as they fed noisily at the table, moving\nhere and there behind the men with wooden or pewter dishes of food, now\nand then laughing at the jests that passed or joining in the talk. A\nhuge fire blazed and crackled and roared in the great open fireplace,\nbefore which were stretched two fierce, shaggy, wolfish-looking hounds.\nOutside, the rain beat upon the roof or ran trickling from the eaves,\nand every now and then a chill draught of wind would breathe through the\nopen windows of the great black dining-hall and set the fire roaring.\n\nAlong the dull-gray wall of stone hung pieces of armor, and swords and\nlances, and great branching antlers of the stag. Overhead arched the\nrude, heavy, oaken beams, blackened with age and smoke, and underfoot\nwas a chill pavement of stone.\n\nUpon Baron Conrad's shoulder leaned the pale, slender, yellow-haired\nBaroness, the only one in all the world with whom the fierce lord of\nDrachenhausen softened to gentleness, the only one upon whom his savage\nbrows looked kindly, and to whom his harsh voice softened with love.\n\nThe Baroness was talking to her husband in a low voice, as he looked\ndown into her pale face, with its gentle blue eyes.\n\n\"And wilt thou not, then,\" said she, \"do that one thing for me?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" he growled, in his deep voice, \"I cannot promise thee never more\nto attack the towns-people in the valley over yonder. How else could I\nlive an' I did not take from the fat town hogs to fill our own larder?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said the Baroness, \"thou couldst live as some others do, for all\ndo not rob the burgher folk as thou dost. Alas! mishap will come upon\nthee some day, and if thou shouldst be slain, what then would come of\nme?\"\n\n\"Prut,\" said the Baron, \"thy foolish fears\" But he laid his rough, hairy\nhand softly upon the Baroness' head and stroked her yellow hair.\n\n\"For my sake, Conrad,\" whispered the Baroness.\n\nA pause followed. The Baron sat looking thoughtfully down into the\nBaroness' face. A moment more, and he might have promised what she\nbesought; a moment more, and he might have been saved all the bitter\ntrouble that was to follow. But it was not to be.\n\nSuddenly a harsh sound broke the quietness of all into a confusion of\nnoises. Dong! Dong!--it was the great alarm-bell from Melchior's Tower.\n\nThe Baron started at the sound. He sat for a moment or two with his hand\nclinched upon the arm of his seat as though about to rise, then he sunk\nback into his chair again.\n\nAll the others had risen tumultuously from the table, and now stood\nlooking at him, awaiting his orders.\n\n\"For my sake, Conrad,\" said the Baroness again.\n\nDong! Dong! rang the alarm-bell. The Baron sat with his eyes bent upon\nthe floor, scowling blackly.\n\nThe Baroness took his hand in both of hers. \"For my sake,\" she pleaded,\nand the tears filled her blue eyes as she looked up at him, \"do not go\nthis time.\"\n\nFrom the courtyard without came the sound of horses' hoofs clashing\nagainst the stone pavement, and those in the hall stood watching and\nwondering at this strange delay of the Lord Baron. Just then the door\nopened and one came pushing past the rest; it was the one-eyed Hans.\nHe came straight to where the Baron sat, and, leaning over, whispered\nsomething into his master's ear.\n\n\"For my sake,\" implored the Baroness again; but the scale was turned.\nThe Baron pushed back his chair heavily and rose to his feet. \"Forward!\"\nhe roared, in a voice of thunder, and a great shout went up in answer as\nhe strode clanking down the hall and out of the open door.\n\nThe Baroness covered her face with her hands and wept.\n\n\"Never mind, little bird,\" said old Ursela, the nurse, soothingly; \"he\nwill come back to thee again as he has come back to thee before.\"\n\nBut the poor young Baroness continued weeping with her face buried in\nher hands, because he had not done that thing she had asked.\n\nA white young face framed in yellow hair looked out into the courtyard\nfrom a window above; but if Baron Conrad of Drachenhausen saw it from\nbeneath the bars of his shining helmet, he made no sign.\n\n\"Forward,\" he cried again.\n\nDown thundered the drawbridge, and away they rode with clashing hoofs\nand ringing armor through the gray shroud of drilling rain.\n\nThe day had passed and the evening had come, and the Baroness and her\nwomen sat beside a roaring fire. All were chattering and talking and\nlaughing but two--the fair young Baroness and old Ursela; the one sat\nlistening, listening, listening, the other sat with her chin resting in\nthe palm of her hand, silently watching her young mistress. The night\nwas falling gray and chill, when suddenly the clear notes of a bugle\nrang from without the castle walls. The young Baroness started, and the\nrosy light flashed up into her pale cheeks.\n\n\"Yes, good,\" said old Ursela; \"the red fox has come back to his den\nagain, and I warrant he brings a fat town goose in his mouth; now we'll\nhave fine clothes to wear, and thou another gold chain to hang about thy\npretty neck.\"\n\nThe young Baroness laughed merrily at the old woman's speech. \"This\ntime,\" said she, \"I will choose a string of pearls like that one my aunt\nused to wear, and which I had about my neck when Conrad first saw me.\"\n\nMinute after minute passed; the Baroness sat nervously playing with a\nbracelet of golden beads about her wrist. \"How long he stays,\" said she.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Ursela; \"but it is not cousin wish that holds him by the\ncoat.\"\n\nAs she spoke, a door banged in the passageway without, and the ring of\niron footsteps sounded upon the stone floor. Clank! Clank! Clank!\n\nThe Baroness rose to her feet, her face all alight. The door opened;\nthen the flush of joy faded away and the face grew white, white, white.\nOne hand clutched the back of the bench whereon she had been sitting,\nthe other hand pressed tightly against her side.\n\nIt was Hans the one-eyed who stood in the doorway, and black trouble sat\non his brow; all were looking at him waiting.\n\n\"Conrad,\" whispered the Baroness, at last. \"Where is Conrad? Where is\nyour master?\" and even her lips were white as she spoke.\n\nThe one-eyed Hans said nothing.\n\nJust then came the noise of men s voices in the corridor and the shuffle\nand scuffle of feet carrying a heavy load. Nearer and nearer they came,\nand one-eyed Hans stood aside. Six men came struggling through the\ndoorway, carrying a litter, and on the litter lay the great Baron\nConrad. The flaming torch thrust into the iron bracket against the wall\nflashed up with the draught of air from the open door, and the light\nfell upon the white face and the closed eyes, and showed upon his body\narmor a great red stain that was not the stain of rust.\n\nSuddenly Ursela cried out in a sharp, shrill voice, \"Catch her, she\nfalls!\"\n\nIt was the Baroness.\n\nThen the old crone turned fiercely upon the one-eyed Hans. \"Thou fool!\"\nshe cried, \"why didst thou bring him here? Thou hast killed thy lady!\"\n\n\"I did not know,\" said the one-eyed Hans, stupidly.\n\n\n\n\nIII. How the Baron came Home Shorn.\n\nBut Baron Conrad was not dead. For days he lay upon his hard bed, now\nmuttering incoherent words beneath his red beard, now raving fiercely\nwith the fever of his wound. But one day he woke again to the things\nabout him.\n\nHe turned his head first to the one side and then to the other; there\nsat Schwartz Carl and the one-eyed Hans. Two or three other retainers\nstood by a great window that looked out into the courtyard beneath,\njesting and laughing together in low tones, and one lay upon the heavy\noaken bench that stood along by the wall snoring in his sleep.\n\n\"Where is your lady?\" said the Baron, presently; \"and why is she not\nwith me at this time?\"\n\nThe man that lay upon the bench started up at the sound of his voice,\nand those at the window came hurrying to his bedside. But Schwartz Carl\nand the one-eyed Hans looked at one another, and neither of them spoke.\nThe Baron saw the look and in it read a certain meaning that brought\nhim to his elbow, though only to sink back upon his pillow again with a\ngroan.\n\n\"Why do you not answer me?\" said he at last, in a hollow voice; then\nto the one-eyed Hans, \"Hast no tongue, fool, that thou standest gaping\nthere like a fish? Answer me, where is thy mistress?\"\n\n\"I--I do not know,\" stammered poor Hans.\n\nFor a while the Baron lay silently looking from one face to the other,\nthen he spoke again. \"How long have I been lying here?\" said he.\n\n\"A sennight, my lord,\" said Master Rudolph, the steward, who had come\ninto the room and who now stood among the others at the bedside.\n\n\"A sennight,\" repeated the Baron, in a low voice, and then to Master\nRudolph, \"And has the Baroness been often beside me in that time?\"\nMaster Rudolph hesitated. \"Answer me,\" said the Baron, harshly.\n\n\"Not--not often,\" said Master Rudolph, hesitatingly.\n\nThe Baron lay silent for a long time. At last he passed his hands over\nhis face and held them there for a minute, then of a sudden, before\nanyone knew what he was about to do, he rose upon his elbow and then sat\nupright upon the bed. The green wound broke out afresh and a dark red\nspot grew and spread upon the linen wrappings; his face was drawn and\nhaggard with the pain of his moving, and his eyes wild and bloodshot.\nGreat drops of sweat gathered and stood upon his forehead as he sat\nthere swaying slightly from side to side.\n\n\"My shoes,\" said he, hoarsely.\n\nMaster Rudolph stepped forward. \"But, my Lord Baron,\" he began and then\nstopped short, for the Baron shot him such a look that his tongue stood\nstill in his head.\n\nHans saw that look out of his one eye. Down he dropped upon his knees\nand, fumbling under the bed, brought forth a pair of soft leathern\nshoes, which he slipped upon the Baron's feet and then laced the thongs\nabove the instep.\n\n\"Your shoulder,\" said the Baron. He rose slowly to his feet, gripping\nHans in the stress of his agony until the fellow winced again. For a\nmoment he stood as though gathering strength, then doggedly started\nforth upon that quest which he had set upon himself.\n\nAt the door he stopped for a moment as though overcome by his weakness,\nand there Master Nicholas, his cousin, met him; for the steward had sent\none of the retainers to tell the old man what the Baron was about to do.\n\n\"Thou must go back again, Conrad,\" said Master Nicholas; \"thou art not\nfit to be abroad.\"\n\nThe Baron answered him never a word, but he glared at him from out of\nhis bloodshot eyes and ground his teeth together. Then he started forth\nagain upon his way.\n\nDown the long hall he went, slowly and laboriously, the others following\nsilently behind him, then up the steep winding stairs, step by step,\nnow and then stopping to lean against the wall. So he reached a long\nand gloomy passageway lit only by the light of a little window at the\nfurther end.\n\nHe stopped at the door of one of the rooms that opened into this\npassage-way, stood for a moment, then he pushed it open.\n\nNo one was within but old Ursela, who sat crooning over a fire with a\nbundle upon her knees. She did not see the Baron or know that he was\nthere.\n\n\"Where is your lady?\" said he, in a hollow voice.\n\nThen the old nurse looked up with a start. \"Jesu bless us,\" cried she,\nand crossed herself.\n\n\"Where is your lady?\" said the Baron again, in the same hoarse voice;\nand then, not waiting for an answer, \"Is she dead?\"\n\nThe old woman looked at him for a minute blinking her watery eyes, and\nthen suddenly broke into a shrill, long-drawn wail. The Baron needed to\nhear no more.\n\nAs though in answer to the old woman's cry, a thin piping complaint came\nfrom the bundle in her lap.\n\nAt the sound the red blood flashed up into the Baron's face. \"What\nis that you have there?\" said he, pointing to the bundle upon the old\nwoman's knees.\n\nShe drew back the coverings and there lay a poor, weak, little baby,\nthat once again raised its faint reedy pipe.\n\n\"It is your son,\" said Ursela, \"that the dear Baroness left behind her\nwhen the holy angels took her to Paradise. She blessed him and called\nhim Otto before she left us.\"\n\n\n\n\nIV. The White Cross on the Hill.\n\nHere the glassy waters of the River Rhine, holding upon its bosom a\nmimic picture of the blue sky and white clouds floating above, runs\nsmoothly around a jutting point of land, St. Michaelsburg, rising from\nthe reedy banks of the stream, sweeps up with a smooth swell until\nit cuts sharp and clear against the sky. Stubby vineyards covered its\nearthy breast, and field and garden and orchard crowned its brow, where\nlay the Monastery of St. Michaelsburg--\"The White Cross on the Hill.\"\nThere within the white walls, where the warm yellow sunlight slept, all\nwas peaceful quietness, broken only now and then by the crowing of\nthe cock or the clamorous cackle of a hen, the lowing of kine or the\nbleating of goats, a solitary voice in prayer, the faint accord of\ndistant singing, or the resonant toll of the monastery bell from the\nhigh-peaked belfry that overlooked the hill and valley and the smooth,\nfar-winding stream. No other sounds broke the stillness, for in this\npeaceful haven was never heard the clash of armor, the ring of iron-shod\nhoofs, or the hoarse call to arms.\n\nAll men were not wicked and cruel and fierce in that dark, far-away age;\nall were not robbers and terror-spreading tyrants, even in that time\nwhen men's hands were against their neighbors, and war and rapine dwelt\nin place of peace and justice.\n\nAbbot Otto, of St. Michaelsburg, was a gentle, patient, pale-faced old\nman; his white hands were soft and smooth, and no one would have thought\nthat they could have known the harsh touch of sword-hilt and lance. And\nyet, in the days of the Emperor Frederick--the grandson of the great\nRed-beard--no one stood higher in the prowess of arms than he. But all\nat once--for why, no man could tell--a change came over him, and in the\nflower of his youth and fame and growing power he gave up everything\nin life and entered the quiet sanctuary of that white monastery on the\nhill-side, so far away from the tumult and the conflict of the world in\nwhich he had lived.\n\nSome said that it was because the lady he had loved had loved his\nbrother, and that when they were married Otto of Wolbergen had left the\nchurch with a broken heart.\n\nBut such stories are old songs that have been sung before.\n\nClatter! clatter! Jingle! jingle! It was a full-armed knight that came\nriding up the steep hill road that wound from left to right and right to\nleft amid the vineyards on the slopes of St. Michaelsburg. Polished helm\nand corselet blazed in the noon sunlight, for no knight in those days\ndared to ride the roads except in full armor. In front of him the\nsolitary knight carried a bundle wrapped in the folds of his coarse gray\ncloak.\n\nIt was a sorely sick man that rode up the heights of St. Michaelsburg.\nHis head hung upon his breast through the faintness of weariness and\npain; for it was the Baron Conrad.\n\nHe had left his bed of sickness that morning, had saddled his horse in\nthe gray dawn with his own hands, and had ridden away into the misty\ntwilight of the forest without the knowledge of anyone excepting the\nporter, who, winking and blinking in the bewilderment of his broken\nslumber, had opened the gates to the sick man, hardly knowing what he\nwas doing, until he beheld his master far away, clattering down the\nsteep bridle-path.\n\nEight leagues had he ridden that day with neither a stop nor a stay; but\nnow at last the end of his journey had come, and he drew rein under the\nshade of the great wooden gateway of St. Michaelsburg.\n\nHe reached up to the knotted rope and gave it a pull, and from within\nsounded the answering ring of the porter's bell. By and by a little\nwicket opened in the great wooden portals, and the gentle, wrinkled face\nof old Brother Benedict, the porter, peeped out at the strange iron-clad\nvisitor and the great black war-horse, streaked and wet with the sweat\nof the journey, flecked and dappled with flakes of foam. A few words\npassed between them, and then the little window was closed again; and\nwithin, the shuffling pat of the sandalled feet sounded fainter and\nfainter, as Brother Benedict bore the message from Baron Conrad to Abbot\nOtto, and the mail-clad figure was left alone, sitting there as silent\nas a statue.\n\nBy and by the footsteps sounded again; there came a noise of clattering\nchains and the rattle of the key in the lock, and the rasping of the\nbolts dragged back. Then the gate swung slowly open, and Baron Conrad\nrode into the shelter of the White Cross, and as the hoofs of his\nwar-horse clashed upon the stones of the courtyard within, the wooden\ngate swung slowly to behind him.\n\nAbbot Otto stood by the table when Baron Conrad entered the high-vaulted\nroom from the farther end. The light from the oriel window behind the\nold man shed broken rays of light upon him, and seemed to frame his thin\ngray hairs with a golden glory. His white, delicate hand rested upon the\ntable beside him, and upon some sheets of parchment covered with rows of\nancient Greek writing which he had been engaged in deciphering.\n\nClank! clank! clank! Baron Conrad strode across the stone floor, and\nthen stopped short in front of the good old man.\n\n\"What dost thou seek here, my son?\" said the Abbot.\n\n\"I seek sanctuary for my son and thy brother's grandson,\" said the Baron\nConrad, and he flung back the folds of his cloak and showed the face of\nthe sleeping babe.\n\nFor a while the Abbot said nothing, but stood gazing dreamily at\nthe baby. After a while he looked up. \"And the child's mother,\" said\nhe--\"what hath she to say at this?\"\n\n\"She hath naught to say,\" said Baron Conrad, hoarsely, and then stopped\nshort in his speech. \"She is dead,\" said he, at last, in a husky voice,\n\"and is with God's angels in paradise.\"\n\nThe Abbot looked intently in the Baron's face. \"So!\" said he, under his\nbreath, and then for the first time noticed how white and drawn was the\nBaron's face. \"Art sick thyself?\" he asked.\n\n\"Ay,\" said the Baron, \"I have come from death's door. But that is no\nmatter. Wilt thou take this little babe into sanctuary? My house is a\nvile, rough place, and not fit for such as he, and his mother with the\nblessed saints in heaven.\" And once more Conrad of Drachenhausen's face\nbegan twitching with the pain of his thoughts.\n\n\"Yes,\" said the old man, gently, \"he shall live here,\" and he stretched\nout his hands and took the babe. \"Would,\" said he, \"that all the little\nchildren in these dark times might be thus brought to the house of God,\nand there learn mercy and peace, instead of rapine and war.\"\n\nFor a while he stood looking down in silence at the baby in his arms,\nbut with his mind far away upon other things. At last he roused himself\nwith a start. \"And thou,\" said he to the Baron Conrad--\"hath not thy\nheart been chastened and softened by this? Surely thou wilt not go back\nto thy old life of rapine and extortion?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Baron Conrad, gruffly, \"I will rob the city swine no longer,\nfor that was the last thing that my dear one asked of me.\"\n\nThe old Abbot's face lit up with a smile. \"I am right glad that thy\nheart was softened, and that thou art willing at last to cease from war\nand violence.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" cried the Baron, roughly, \"I said nothing of ceasing from war. By\nheaven, no! I will have revenge!\" And he clashed his iron foot upon the\nfloor and clinched his fists and ground his teeth together. \"Listen,\"\nsaid he, \"and I will tell thee how my troubles happened. A fortnight ago\nI rode out upon an expedition against a caravan of fat burghers in the\nvalley of Gruenhoffen. They outnumbered us many to one, but city swine\nsuch as they are not of the stuff to stand against our kind for a long\ntime. Nevertheless, while the men-at-arms who guarded the caravan were\nstaying us with pike and cross-bow from behind a tree which they had\nfelled in front of a high bridge the others had driven the pack-horses\noff, so that by the time we had forced the bridge they were a league\nor more away. We pushed after them as hard as we were able, but when we\ncame up with them we found that they had been joined by Baron Frederick\nof Trutz-Drachen, to whom for three years and more the burghers of\nGruenstadt have been paying a tribute for his protection against others.\nThen again they made a stand, and this time the Baron Frederick himself\nwas with them. But though the dogs fought well, we were forcing them\nback, and might have got the better of them, had not my horse stumbled\nupon a sloping stone, and so fell and rolled over upon me. While I lay\nthere with my horse upon me, Baron Frederick ran me down with his lance,\nand gave me that foul wound that came so near to slaying me--and did\nslay my dear wife. Nevertheless, my men were able to bring me out from\nthat press and away, and we had bitten the Trutz-Drachen dogs so deep\nthat they were too sore to follow us, and so let us go our way in peace.\nBut when those fools of mine brought me to my castle they bore me lying\nupon a litter to my wife's chamber. There she beheld me, and, thinking\nme dead, swooned a death-swoon, so that she only lived long enough to\nbless her new-born babe and name it Otto, for you, her father's brother.\nBut, by heavens! I will have revenge, root and branch, upon that vile\ntribe, the Roderburgs of Trutz-Drachen. Their great-grandsire built that\ncastle in scorn of Baron Casper in the old days; their grandsire slew my\nfather's grandsire; Baron Nicholas slew two of our kindred; and now this\nBaron Frederick gives me that foul wound and kills my dear wife through\nmy body.\" Here the Baron stopped short; then of a sudden, shaking his\nfist above his head, he cried out in his hoarse voice: \"I swear by all\nthe saints in heaven, either the red cock shall crow over the roof of\nTrutz-Drachen or else it shall crow over my house! The black dog shall\nsit on Baron Frederick's shoulders or else he shall sit on mine!\" Again\nhe stopped, and fixing his blazing eyes upon the old man, \"Hearest thou\nthat, priest?\" said he, and broke into a great boisterous laugh.\n\nAbbot Otto sighed heavily, but he tried no further to persuade the other\ninto different thoughts.\n\n\"Thou art wounded,\" said he, at last, in a gentle voice; \"at least stay\nhere with us until thou art healed.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said the Baron, roughly, \"I will tarry no longer than to hear\nthee promise to care for my child.\"\n\n\"I promise,\" said the Abbot; \"but lay aside thy armor, and rest.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said the Baron, \"I go back again to-day.\"\n\nAt this the Abbot cried out in amazement: \"Sure thou, wounded man, would\nnot take that long journey without a due stay for resting! Think! Night\nwill be upon thee before thou canst reach home again, and the forests\nare beset with wolves.\"\n\nThe Baron laughed. \"Those are not the wolves I fear,\" said he. \"Urge me\nno further, I must return to-night; yet if thou hast a mind to do me a\nkindness thou canst give me some food to eat and a flask of your golden\nMichaelsburg; beyond these, I ask no further favor of any man, be he\npriest or layman.\"\n\n\"What comfort I can give thee thou shalt have,\" said the Abbot, in his\npatient voice, and so left the room to give the needful orders, bearing\nthe babe with him.\n\n\n\n\nV. How Otto Dwelt at St. Michaelsburg.\n\nSo the poor, little, motherless waif lived among the old monks at the\nWhite Cross on the hill, thriving and growing apace until he had reached\neleven or twelve years of age; a slender, fair-haired little fellow,\nwith a strange, quiet serious manner.\n\n\"Poor little child!\" Old Brother Benedict would sometimes say to the\nothers, \"poor little child! The troubles in which he was born must have\nbroken his wits like a glass cup. What think ye he said to me to-day?\n'Dear Brother Benedict,' said he, 'dost thou shave the hair off of the\ntop of thy head so that the dear God may see thy thoughts the better?'\nThink of that now!\" and the good old man shook with silent laughter.\n\nWhen such talk came to the good Father Abbot's ears, he smiled quietly\nto himself. \"It may be,\" said he, \"that the wisdom of little children\nflies higher than our heavy wits can follow.\"\n\nAt least Otto was not slow with his studies, and Brother Emmanuel,\nwho taught him his lessons, said more than once that, if his wits were\ncracked in other ways, they were sound enough in Latin.\n\nOtto, in a quaint, simple way which belonged to him, was gentle\nand obedient to all. But there was one among the Brethren of St.\nMichaelsburg whom he loved far above all the rest--Brother John, a poor\nhalf-witted fellow, of some twenty-five or thirty years of age. When\na very little child, he had fallen from his nurse's arms and hurt his\nhead, and as he grew up into boyhood, and showed that his wits had been\naddled by his fall, his family knew not what else to do with him, and\nso sent him off to the Monastery of St. Michaelsburg, where he lived\nhis simple, witless life upon a sort of sufferance, as though he were a\ntame, harmless animal.\n\nWhile Otto was still a little baby, he had been given into Brother\nJohn's care. Thereafter, and until Otto had grown old enough to care for\nhimself, poor Brother John never left his little charge, night or day.\nOftentimes the good Father Abbot, coming into the garden, where he loved\nto walk alone in his meditations, would find the poor, simple Brother\nsitting under the shade of the pear-tree, close to the bee-hives,\nrocking the little baby in his arms, singing strange, crazy songs to\nit, and gazing far away into the blue, empty sky with his curious, pale\neyes.\n\nAlthough, as Otto grew up into boyhood, his lessons and his tasks\nseparated him from Brother John, the bond between them seemed to grow\nstronger rather than weaker. During the hours that Otto had for his own\nthey were scarcely ever apart. Down in the vineyard, where the monks\nwere gathering the grapes for the vintage, in the garden, or in the\nfields, the two were always seen together, either wandering hand in\nhand, or seated in some shady nook or corner.\n\nBut most of all they loved to lie up in the airy wooden belfry; the\ngreat gaping bell hanging darkly above them, the mouldering cross-beams\nglimmering far up under the dim shadows of the roof, where dwelt a great\nbrown owl that, unfrightened at their familiar presence, stared down at\nthem with his round, solemn eyes. Below them stretched the white walls\nof the garden, beyond them the vineyard, and beyond that again the far\nshining river, that seemed to Otto's mind to lead into wonder-land.\nThere the two would lie upon the belfry floor by the hour, talking\ntogether of the strangest things.\n\n\"I saw the dear Angel Gabriel again yester morn,\" said Brother John.\n\n\"So!\" says Otto, seriously; \"and where was that?\"\n\n\"It was out in the garden, in the old apple-tree,\" said Brother John. \"I\nwas walking there, and my wits were running around in the grass like a\nmouse. What heard I but a wonderful sound of singing, and it was like\nthe hum of a great bee, only sweeter than honey. So I looked up into the\ntree, and there I saw two sparks. I thought at first that they were\ntwo stars that had fallen out of heaven; but what think you they were,\nlittle child?\"\n\n\"I do not know,\" said Otto, breathlessly.\n\n\"They were angel's eyes,\" said Brother John; and he smiled in the\nstrangest way, as he gazed up into the blue sky. \"So I looked at the two\nsparks and felt happy, as one does in spring time when the cold weather\nis gone, and the warm sun shines, and the cuckoo sings again. Then,\nby-and-by, I saw the face to which the eyes belonged. First, it shone\nwhite and thin like the moon in the daylight; but it grew brighter and\nbrighter, until it hurt one's eyes to look at it, as though it had been\nthe blessed sun itself. Angel Gabriel's hand was as white as silver, and\nin it he held a green bough with blossoms, like those that grow on the\nthorn bush. As for his robe, it was all of one piece, and finer than the\nFather Abbot's linen, and shone beside like the sunlight on pure snow.\nSo I knew from all these things that it was the blessed Angel Gabriel.\"\n\n\"What do they say about this tree, Brother John?\" said he to me.\n\n\"They say it is dying, my Lord Angel,\" said I, \"and that the gardener\nwill bring a sharp axe and cut it down.\"\n\n\"'And what dost thou say about it, Brother John?' said he.\"\n\n\"'I also say yes, and that it is dying,' said I.\"\n\n\"At that he smiled until his face shone so bright that I had to shut my\neyes.\"\n\n\"'Now I begin to believe, Brother John, that thou art as foolish as men\nsay,' said he. 'Look, till I show thee.' And thereat I opened mine eyes\nagain.\"\n\n\"Then Angel Gabriel touched the dead branches with the flowery twig that\nhe held in his hand, and there was the dead wood all covered with green\nleaves, and fair blossoms and beautiful apples as yellow as gold. Each\nsmelling more sweetly than a garden of flowers, and better to the taste\nthan white bread and honey.\n\n\"'They are souls of the apples,' said the good Angel,' and they can\nnever wither and die.'\n\n\"'Then I'll tell the gardener that he shall not cut the tree down,' said\nI.\"\n\n\"'No, no,' said the dear Gabriel, 'that will never do, for if the tree\nis not cut down here on the earth, it can never be planted in paradise.'\"\n\nHere Brother John stopped short in his story, and began singing one of\nhis crazy songs, as he gazed with his pale eyes far away into nothing at\nall.\n\n\"But tell me, Brother John,\" said little Otto, in a hushed voice, \"what\nelse did the good Angel say to thee?\"\n\nBrother John stopped short in his song and began looking from right to\nleft, and up and down, as though to gather his wits.\n\n\"So!\" said he, \"there was something else that he told me. Tschk! If I\ncould but think now. Yes, good! This is it--'Nothing that has lived,'\nsaid he, 'shall ever die, and nothing that has died shall ever live.'\"\n\nOtto drew a deep breath. \"I would that I might see the beautiful Angel\nGabriel sometime,\" said he; but Brother John was singing again and did\nnot seem to hear what he said.\n\nNext to Brother John, the nearest one to the little child was the good\nAbbot Otto, for though he had never seen wonderful things with the eyes\nof his soul, such as Brother John's had beheld, and so could not tell of\nthem, he was yet able to give little Otto another pleasure that no one\nelse could give.\n\nHe was a great lover of books, the old Abbot, and had under lock and key\nwonderful and beautiful volumes, bound in hog-skin and metal, and with\ncovers inlaid with carved ivory, or studded with precious stones. But\nwithin these covers, beautiful as they were, lay the real wonder of the\nbooks, like the soul in the body; for there, beside the black letters\nand initials, gay with red and blue and gold, were beautiful pictures\npainted upon the creamy parchment. Saints and Angels, the Blessed Virgin\nwith the golden oriole about her head, good St. Joseph, the three Kings;\nthe simple Shepherds kneeling in the fields, while Angels with glories\nabout their brow called to the poor Peasants from the blue sky above.\nBut, most beautiful of all was the picture of the Christ Child lying in\nthe manger, with the mild-eyed Kine gazing at him.\n\nSometimes the old Abbot would unlock the iron-bound chest where these\ntreasures lay hidden, and carefully and lovingly brushing the few grains\nof dust from them, would lay them upon the table beside the oriel window\nin front of his little namesake, allowing the little boy freedom to turn\nthe leaves as he chose.\n\nAlways it was one picture that little Otto sought; the Christ Child in\nthe manger, with the Virgin, St. Joseph, the Shepherds, and the Kine.\nAnd as he would hang breathlessly gazing and gazing upon it, the old\nAbbot would sit watching him with a faint, half-sad smile flickering\naround his thin lips and his pale, narrow face.\n\nIt was a pleasant, peaceful life, but by-and-by the end came. Otto was\nnow nearly twelve years old.\n\nOne bright, clear day, near the hour of noon, little Otto heard the\nporter's bell sounding below in the court-yard--dong! dong! Brother\nEmmanuel had been appointed as the boy's instructor, and just then Otto\nwas conning his lessons in the good monk's cell. Nevertheless, at the\nsound of the bell he pricked up his ears and listened, for a visitor was\na strange matter in that out-of-the-way place, and he wondered who it\ncould be. So, while his wits wandered his lessons lagged.\n\n\"Postera Phoeba lustrabat lampade terras,\" continued Brother Emmanuel,\ninexorably running his horny finger-nail beneath the line, \"humentemque\nAurora polo dimoverat umbram--\" the lesson dragged along.\n\nJust then a sandaled footstep sounded without, in the stone corridor,\nand a light tap fell upon Brother Emmanuel's door. It was Brother\nIgnatius, and the Abbot wished little Otto to come to the refectory.\n\nAs they crossed the court-yard Otto stared to see a group of mail-clad\nmen-at-arms, some sitting upon their horses, some standing by the\nsaddle-bow. \"Yonder is the young baron,\" he heard one of them say in a\ngruff voice, and thereupon all turned and stared at him.\n\nA stranger was in the refectory, standing beside the good old Abbot,\nwhile food and wine were being brought and set upon the table for his\nrefreshment; a great, tall, broad-shouldered man, beside whom the Abbot\nlooked thinner and slighter than ever.\n\nThe stranger was clad all in polished and gleaming armor, of plate and\nchain, over which was drawn a loose robe of gray woollen stuff, reaching\nto the knees and bound about the waist by a broad leathern sword-belt.\nUpon his arm he carried a great helmet which he had just removed from\nhis head. His face was weather-beaten and rugged, and on lip and chin\nwas a wiry, bristling beard; once red, now frosted with white.\n\nBrother Ignatius had bidden Otto to enter, and had then closed the door\nbehind him; and now, as the lad walked slowly up the long room, he gazed\nwith round, wondering blue eyes at the stranger.\n\n\"Dost know who I am, Otto? said the mail-clad knight, in a deep,\ngrowling voice.\n\n\"Methinks you are my father, sir,\" said Otto.\n\n\"Aye, thou art right,\" said Baron Conrad, \"and I am glad to see that\nthese milk-churning monks have not allowed thee to forget me, and who\nthou art thyself.\"\n\n\"An' it please you,\" said Otto, \"no one churneth milk here but\nBrother Fritz; we be makers of wine and not makers of butter, at St.\nMichaelsburg.\"\n\nBaron Conrad broke into a great, loud laugh, but Abbot Otto's sad and\nthoughtful face lit up with no shadow of an answering smile.\n\n\"Conrad,\" said he, turning to the other, \"again let me urge thee; do\nnot take the child hence, his life can never be your life, for he is not\nfitted for it. I had thought,\" said he, after a moment's pause, \"I had\nthought that thou hadst meant to consecrate him--this motherless one--to\nthe care of the Universal Mother Church.\"\n\n\"So!\" said the Baron, \"thou hadst thought that, hadst thou? Thou hadst\nthought that I had intended to deliver over this boy, the last of the\nVuelphs, to the arms of the Church? What then was to become of our name\nand the glory of our race if it was to end with him in a monastery? No,\nDrachenhausen is the home of the Vuelphs, and there the last of the race\nshall live as his sires have lived before him, holding to his rights by\nthe power and the might of his right hand.\"\n\nThe Abbot turned and looked at the boy, who was gaping in simple\nwide-eyed wonderment from one to the other as they spoke.\n\n\"And dost thou think, Conrad,\" said the old man, in his gentle, patient\nvoice, \"that that poor child can maintain his rights by the strength of\nhis right hand?\"\n\nThe Baron's look followed the Abbot's, and he said nothing.\n\nIn the few seconds of silence that followed, little Otto, in his simple\nmind, was wondering what all this talk portended. Why had his father\ncome hither to St. Michaelsburg, lighting up the dim silence of the\nmonastery with the flash and ring of his polished armor? Why had he\ntalked about churning butter but now, when all the world knew that the\nmonks of St. Michaelsburg made wine.\n\nIt was Baron Conrad's deep voice that broke the little pause of silence.\n\n\"If you have made a milkmaid of the boy,\" he burst out at last, \"I thank\nthe dear heaven that there is yet time to undo your work and to make a\nman of him.\"\n\nThe Abbot sighed. \"The child is yours, Conrad,\" said he, \"the will of\nthe blessed saints be done. Mayhap if he goes to dwell at Drachenhausen\nhe may make you the better instead of you making him the worse.\"\n\nThen light came to the darkness of little Otto's wonderment; he saw what\nall this talk meant and why his father had come hither. He was to leave\nthe happy, sunny silence of the dear White Cross, and to go out into\nthat great world that he had so often looked down upon from the high\nwindy belfry on the steep hillside.\n\n\n\n\nVI. How Otto Lived in the Dragon's House.\n\nThe gates of the Monastery stood wide open, the world lay beyond, and\nall was ready for departure. Baron Conrad and his men-at-arms sat foot\nin stirrup, the milk-white horse that had been brought for Otto stood\nwaiting for him beside his father's great charger.\n\n\"Farewell, Otto,\" said the good old Abbot, as he stooped and kissed the\nboy's cheek.\n\n\"Farewell,\" answered Otto, in his simple, quiet way, and it brought\na pang to the old man's heart that the child should seem to grieve so\nlittle at the leave-taking.\n\n\"Farewell, Otto,\" said the brethren that stood about, \"farewell,\nfarewell.\"\n\nThen poor brother John came forward and took the boy's hand, and looked\nup into his face as he sat upon his horse. \"We will meet again,\" said\nhe, with his strange, vacant smile, \"but maybe it will be in Paradise,\nand there perhaps they will let us lie in the father's belfry, and look\ndown upon the angels in the court-yard below.\"\n\n\"Aye,\" answered Otto, with an answering smile.\n\n\"Forward,\" cried the Baron, in a deep voice, and with a clash of hoofs\nand jingle of armor they were gone, and the great wooden gates were shut\nto behind them.\n\nDown the steep winding pathway they rode, and out into the great wide\nworld beyond, upon which Otto and brother John had gazed so often from\nthe wooden belfry of the White Cross on the hill.\n\n\"Hast been taught to ride a horse by the priests up yonder on\nMichaelsburg?\" asked the Baron, when they had reached the level road.\n\n\"Nay,\" said Otto; \"we had no horse to ride, but only to bring in the\nharvest or the grapes from the further vineyards to the vintage.\"\n\n\"Prut,\" said the Baron, \"methought the abbot would have had enough of\nthe blood of old days in his veins to have taught thee what is fitting\nfor a knight to know; art not afeared?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Otto, with a smile, \"I am not afeared.\"\n\n\"There at least thou showest thyself a Vuelph,\" said the grim Baron. But\nperhaps Otto's thought of fear and Baron Conrad's thought of fear were\ntwo very different matters.\n\nThe afternoon had passed by the time they had reached the end of their\njourney. Up the steep, stony path they rode to the drawbridge and\nthe great gaping gateway of Drachenhausen, where wall and tower and\nbattlement looked darker and more forbidding than ever in the gray\ntwilight of the coming night. Little Otto looked up with great,\nwondering, awe-struck eyes at this grim new home of his.\n\nThe next moment they clattered over the drawbridge that spanned the\nnarrow black gulph between the roadway and the wall, and the next were\npast the echoing arch of the great gateway and in the gray gloaming of\nthe paved court-yard within.\n\nOtto looked around upon the many faces gathered there to catch the\nfirst sight of the little baron; hard, rugged faces, seamed and\nweather-beaten; very different from those of the gentle brethren among\nwhom he had lived, and it seemed strange to him that there was none\nthere whom he should know.\n\nAs he climbed the steep, stony steps to the door of the Baron's house,\nold Ursela came running down to meet him. She flung her withered arms\naround him and hugged him close to her. \"My little child,\" she cried,\nand then fell to sobbing as though her heart would break.\n\n\"Here is someone knoweth me,\" thought the little boy.\n\nHis new home was all very strange and wonderful to Otto; the armors, the\ntrophies, the flags, the long galleries with their ranges of rooms,\nthe great hall below with its vaulted roof and its great fireplace of\ngrotesquely carved stone, and all the strange people with their lives\nand thoughts so different from what he had been used to know.\n\nAnd it was a wonderful thing to explore all the strange places in the\ndark old castle; places where it seemed to Otto no one could have ever\nbeen before.\n\nOnce he wandered down a long, dark passageway below the hall, pushed\nopen a narrow, iron-bound oaken door, and found himself all at once in\na strange new land; the gray light, coming in through a range of tall,\nnarrow windows, fell upon a row of silent, motionless figures carven in\nstone, knights and ladies in strange armor and dress; each lying upon\nhis or her stony couch with clasped hands, and gazing with fixed,\nmotionless, stony eyeballs up into the gloomy, vaulted arch above them.\nThere lay, in a cold, silent row, all of the Vuelphs who had died since\nthe ancient castle had been built.\n\nIt was the chapel into which Otto had made his way, now long since\nfallen out of use excepting as a burial place of the race.\n\nAt another time he clambered up into the loft under the high peaked\nroof, where lay numberless forgotten things covered with the dim dust\nof years. There a flock of pigeons had made their roost, and flapped\nnoisily out into the sunlight when he pushed open the door from below.\nHere he hunted among the mouldering things of the past until, oh, joy\nof joys! in an ancient oaken chest he found a great lot of worm-eaten\nbooks, that had belonged to some old chaplain of the castle in days gone\nby. They were not precious and beautiful volumes, such as the Father\nAbbot had showed him, but all the same they had their quaint painted\npictures of the blessed saints and angels.\n\nAgain, at another time, going into the court-yard, Otto had found\nthe door of Melchior's tower standing invitingly open, for old Hilda,\nSchwartz Carl's wife, had come down below upon some business or other.\n\nThen upon the shaky wooden steps Otto ran without waiting for a second\nthought, for he had often gazed at those curious buildings hanging so\nfar up in the air, and had wondered what they were like. Round and round\nand up and up Otto climbed, until his head spun. At last he reached\na landing-stage, and gazing over the edge and down, beheld the stone\npavement far, far below, lit by a faint glimmer of light that entered\nthrough the arched doorway. Otto clutched tight hold of the wooden rail,\nhe had no thought that he had climbed so far.\n\nUpon the other side of the landing was a window that pierced the thick\nstone walls of the tower; out of the window he looked, and then drew\nsuddenly back again with a gasp, for it was through the outer wall he\npeered, and down, down below in the dizzy depths he saw the hard\ngray rocks, where the black swine, looking no larger than ants in the\ndistance, fed upon the refuse thrown out over the walls of the castle.\nThere lay the moving tree-tops like a billowy green sea, and the coarse\nthatched roofs of the peasant cottages, round which crawled the little\nchildren like tiny human specks.\n\nThen Otto turned and crept down the stairs, frightened at the height to\nwhich he had climbed.\n\nAt the doorway he met Mother Hilda. \"Bless us,\" she cried, starting back\nand crossing herself, and then, seeing who it was, ducked him a courtesy\nwith as pleasant a smile as her forbidding face, with its little\ndeep-set eyes, was able to put upon itself.\n\nOld Ursela seemed nearer to the boy than anyone else about the castle,\nexcepting it was his father, and it was a newfound delight to Otto to\nsit beside her and listen to her quaint stories, so different from the\nmonkish tales that he had heard and read at the monastery.\n\nBut one day it was a tale of a different sort that she told him, and one\nthat opened his eyes to what he had never dreamed of before.\n\nThe mellow sunlight fell through the window upon old Ursela, as she sat\nin the warmth with her distaff in her hands while Otto lay close to her\nfeet upon a bear skin, silently thinking over the strange story of a\nbrave knight and a fiery dragon that she had just told him. Suddenly\nUrsela broke the silence.\n\n\"Little one,\" said she, \"thou art wondrously like thy own dear mother;\ndidst ever hear how she died?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Otto, \"but tell me, Ursela, how it was.\"\n\n\"Tis strange,\" said the old woman, \"that no one should have told thee\nin all this time.\" And then, in her own fashion she related to him the\nstory of how his father had set forth upon that expedition in spite of\nall that Otto's mother had said, beseeching him to abide at home; how he\nhad been foully wounded, and how the poor lady had died from her fright\nand grief.\n\nOtto listened with eyes that grew wider and wider, though not all with\nwonder; he no longer lay upon the bear skin, but sat up with his hands\nclasped. For a moment or two after the old woman had ended her story, he\nsat staring silently at her. Then he cried out, in a sharp voice, \"And\nis this truth that you tell me, Ursela? and did my father seek to rob\nthe towns people of their goods?\"\n\nOld Ursela laughed. \"Aye,\" said she, \"that he did and many times. Ah!\nme, those day's are all gone now.\" And she fetched a deep sigh. \"Then we\nlived in plenty and had both silks and linens and velvets besides in the\nstore closets and were able to buy good wines and live in plenty upon\nthe best. Now we dress in frieze and live upon what we can get and\nsometimes that is little enough, with nothing better than sour beer to\ndrink. But there is one comfort in it all, and that is that our good\nBaron paid back the score he owed the Trutz-Drachen people not only for\nthat, but for all that they had done from the very first.\"\n\nThereupon she went on to tell Otto how Baron Conrad had fulfilled the\npledge of revenge that he had made Abbot Otto, how he had watched day\nafter day until one time he had caught the Trutz-Drachen folk,\nwith Baron Frederick at their head, in a narrow defile back of the\nKaiserburg; of the fierce fight that was there fought; of how the\nRoderburgs at last fled, leaving Baron Frederick behind them wounded; of\nhow he had kneeled before the Baron Conrad, asking for mercy, and of\nhow Baron Conrad had answered, \"Aye, thou shalt have such mercy as thou\ndeservest,\" and had therewith raised his great two-handed sword and laid\nhis kneeling enemy dead at one blow.\n\nPoor little Otto had never dreamed that such cruelty and wickedness\ncould be. He listened to the old woman's story with gaping horror, and\nwhen the last came and she told him, with a smack of her lips, how his\nfather had killed his enemy with his own hand, he gave a gasping cry and\nsprang to his feet. Just then the door at the other end of the chamber\nwas noisily opened, and Baron Conrad himself strode into the room.\nOtto turned his head, and seeing who it was, gave another cry, loud and\nquavering, and ran to his father and caught him by the hand.\n\n\"Oh, father!\" he cried, \"oh, father! Is it true that thou hast killed a\nman with thy own hand?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said the Baron, grimly, \"it is true enough, and I think me I have\nkilled many more than one. But what of that, Otto? Thou must get out of\nthose foolish notions that the old monks have taught thee. Here in the\nworld it is different from what it is at St. Michaelsburg; here a man\nmust either slay or be slain.\"\n\nBut poor little Otto, with his face hidden in his father's robe, cried\nas though his heart would break. \"Oh, father!\" he said, again and again,\n\"it cannot be--it cannot be that thou who art so kind to me should have\nkilled a man with thine own hands.\" Then: \"I wish that I were back\nin the monastery again; I am afraid out here in the great wide world;\nperhaps somebody may kill me, for I am only a weak little boy and could\nnot save my own life if they chose to take it from me.\"\n\nBaron Conrad looked down upon Otto all this while, drawing his bushy\neyebrows together. Once he reached out his hand as though to stroke the\nboy's hair, but drew it back again.\n\nTurning angrily upon the old woman, \"Ursela,\" said he, \"thou must tell\nthe child no more such stories as these; he knowest not at all of such\nthings as yet. Keep thy tongue busy with the old woman's tales that he\nloves to hear thee tell, and leave it with me to teach him what becometh\na true knight and a Vuelph.\"\n\nThat night the father and son sat together beside the roaring fire in\nthe great ball. \"Tell me, Otto,\" said the Baron, \"dost thou hate me for\nhaving done what Ursela told thee today that I did?\"\n\nOtto looked for a while into his father's face. \"I know not,\" said he at\nlast, in his quaint, quiet voice, \"but methinks that I do not hate thee\nfor it.\"\n\nThe Baron drew his bushy brows together until his eyes twinkled out of\nthe depths beneath them, then of a sudden he broke into a great loud\nlaugh, smiting his horny palm with a smack upon his thigh.\n\n\n\n\nVII. The Red Cock Crows on Drachenhausen.\n\nThere was a new emperor in Germany who had come from a far away Swiss\ncastle; Count Rudolph of Hapsburg, a good, honest man with a good,\nhonest, homely face, but bringing with him a stern sense of justice and\nof right, and a determination to put down the lawlessness of the savage\nGerman barons among whom he had come as Emperor.\n\nOne day two strangers came galloping up the winding path to the gates\nof the Dragon's house. A horn sounded thin and clear, a parley was held\nacross the chasm in the road between the two strangers and the porter\nwho appeared at the little wicket. Then a messenger was sent running to\nthe Baron, who presently came striding across the open court-yard to the\ngateway to parley with the strangers.\n\nThe two bore with them a folded parchment with a great red seal\nhanging from it like a clot of blood; it was a message from the Emperor\ndemanding that the Baron should come to the Imperial Court to answer\ncertain charges that had been brought against him, and to give his bond\nto maintain the peace of the empire.\n\nOne by one those barons who had been carrying on their private wars, or\nhad been despoiling the burgher folk in their traffic from town to\ntown, and against whom complaint had been lodged, were summoned to the\nImperial Court, where they were compelled to promise peace and to swear\nallegiance to the new order of things. All those who came willingly were\nallowed to return home again after giving security for maintaining the\npeace; all those who came not willingly were either brought in chains\nor rooted out of their strongholds with fire and sword, and their roofs\nburned over their heads.\n\nNow it was Baron Conrad's turn to be summoned to the Imperial Court,\nfor complaint had been lodged against him by his old enemy of\nTrutz-Drachen--Baron Henry--the nephew of the old Baron Frederick\nwho had been slain while kneeling in the dust of the road back of the\nKaiserburg.\n\nNo one at Drachenhausen could read but Master Rudolph, the steward,\nwho was sand blind, and little Otto. So the boy read the summons to his\nfather, while the grim Baron sat silent with his chin resting upon his\nclenched fist and his eyebrows drawn together into a thoughtful frown as\nhe gazed into the pale face of his son, who sat by the rude oaken table\nwith the great parchment spread out before him.\n\nShould he answer the summons, or scorn it as he would have done under\nthe old emperors? Baron Conrad knew not which to do; pride said one\nthing and policy another. The Emperor was a man with an iron hand, and\nBaron Conrad knew what had happened to those who had refused to obey the\nimperial commands. So at last he decided that he would go to the court,\ntaking with him a suitable escort to support his dignity.\n\nIt was with nearly a hundred armed men clattering behind him that Baron\nConrad rode away to court to answer the imperial summons. The castle was\nstripped of its fighting men, and only eight remained behind to guard\nthe great stone fortress and the little simple-witted boy.\n\nIt was a sad mistake.\n\nThree days had passed since the Baron had left the castle, and now the\nthird night had come. The moon was hanging midway in the sky, white and\nfull, for it was barely past midnight.\n\nThe high precipitous banks of the rocky road threw a dense black shadow\ninto the gully below, and in that crooked inky line that scarred the\nwhite face of the moonlit rocks a band of some thirty men were creeping\nslowly and stealthily nearer and nearer to Castle Drachenhausen. At the\nhead of them was a tall, slender knight clad in light chain armor, his\nhead covered only by a steel cap or bascinet.\n\nAlong the shadow they crept, with only now and then a faint clink or\njingle of armor to break the stillness, for most of those who followed\nthe armed knight were clad in leathern jerkins; only one or two wearing\neven so much as a steel breast-plate by way of armor.\n\nSo at last they reached the chasm that yawned beneath the roadway, and\nthere they stopped, for they had reached the spot toward which they had\nbeen journeying. It was Baron Henry of Trutz-Drachen who had thus come\nin the silence of the night time to the Dragon's house, and his visit\nboded no good to those within.\n\nThe Baron and two or three of his men talked together in low tones, now\nand then looking up at the sheer wall that towered above them.\n\n\"Yonder is the place, Lord Baron,\" said one of those who stood with him.\n\"I have scanned every foot of the wall at night for a week past. An we\nget not in by that way, we get not in at all. A keen eye, a true aim,\nand a bold man are all that we need, and the business is done.\" Here\nagain all looked upward at the gray wall above them, rising up in the\nsilent night air.\n\nHigh aloft hung the wooden bartizan or watch-tower, clinging to the face\nof the outer wall and looming black against the pale sky above. Three\ngreat beams pierced the wall, and upon them the wooden tower rested. The\nmiddle beam jutted out beyond the rest to the distance of five or six\nfeet, and the end of it was carved into the rude semblance of a dragon's\nhead.\n\n\"So, good,\" said the Baron at last; \"then let us see if thy plan holds,\nand if Hans Schmidt's aim is true enough to earn the three marks that I\nhave promised him. Where is the bag?\"\n\nOne of those who stood near handed the Baron a leathern pouch, the Baron\nopened it and drew out a ball of fine thread, another of twine, a coil\nof stout rope, and a great bundle that looked, until it was unrolled,\nlike a coarse fish-net. It was a rope ladder. While these were being\nmade ready, Hans Schmidt, a thick-set, low-browed, broad-shouldered\narcher, strung his stout bow, and carefully choosing three arrows\nfrom those in his quiver, he stuck them point downward in the earth.\nUnwinding the ball of thread, he laid it loosely in large loops upon the\nground so that it might run easily without hitching, then he tied the\nend of the thread tightly around one of his arrows. He fitted the arrow\nto the bow and drew the feather to his ear. Twang! rang the bowstring,\nand the feathered messenger flew whistling upon its errand to the\nwatch-tower. The very first shaft did the work.\n\n\"Good,\" said Hans Schmidt, the archer, in his heavy voice, \"the three\nmarks are mine, Lord Baron.\"\n\nThe arrow had fallen over and across the jutting beam between the carved\ndragon's head and the bartizan, carrying with it the thread, which now\nhung from above, glimmering white in the moonlight like a cobweb.\n\nThe rest was an easy task enough. First the twine was drawn up to and\nover the beam by the thread, then the rope was drawn up by the twine,\nand last of all the rope ladder by the rope. There it hung like a thin,\nslender black line against the silent gray walls.\n\n\"And now,\" said the Baron, \"who will go first and win fifty marks for\nhis own, and climb the rope ladder to the tower yonder?\" Those around\nhesitated. \"Is there none brave enough to venture?\" said the Baron,\nafter a pause of silence.\n\nA stout, young fellow, of about eighteen years of age, stepped forward\nand flung his flat leathern cap upon the ground. \"I will go, my Lord\nBaron,\" said he.\n\n\"Good,\" said the Baron, \"the fifty marks are thine. And now listen, if\nthou findest no one in the watch-tower, whistle thus; if the watchman\nbe at his post, see that thou makest all safe before thou givest the\nsignal. When all is ready the others will follow thee. And now go and\ngood luck go with thee.\"\n\nThe young fellow spat upon his hands and, seizing the ropes, began\nslowly and carefully to mount the flimsy, shaking ladder. Those below\nheld it as tight as they were able, but nevertheless he swung backward\nand forward and round and round as he climbed steadily upward. Once he\nstopped upon the way, and those below saw him clutch the ladder close\nto him as though dizzied by the height and the motion but he soon began\nagain, up, up, up like some great black spider. Presently he came out\nfrom the black shadow below and into the white moonlight, and then his\nshadow followed him step by step up the gray wall upon his way. At last\nhe reached the jutting beam, and there again he stopped for a moment\nclutching tightly to it. The next he was upon the beam, dragging himself\ntoward the window of the bartizan just above. Slowly raising himself\nupon his narrow foothold he peeped cautiously within. Those watching\nhim from be low saw him slip his hand softly to his side, and then place\nsomething between his teeth. It was his dagger. Reaching up, he clutched\nthe window sill above him and, with a silent spring, seated himself\nupon it. The next moment he disappeared within. A few seconds of silence\nfollowed, then of sudden a sharp gurgling cry broke the stillness. There\nwas another pause of silence, then a faint shrill whistle sounded from\nabove.\n\n\"Who will go next?\" said the Baron. It was Hans Schmidt who stepped\nforward. Another followed the arch up the ladder, and another, and\nanother. Last of all went the Baron Henry himself, and nothing was left\nbut the rope ladder hanging from above, and swaying back and forth in\nthe wind.\n\nThat night Schwartz Carl had been bousing it over a pot of yellow wine\nin the pantry with his old crony, Master Rudolph, the steward; and the\ntwo, chatting and gossiping together, had passed the time away until\nlong after the rest of the castle had been wrapped in sleep. Then,\nperhaps a little unsteady upon his feet, Schwartz Carl betook himself\nhomeward to the Melchior tower.\n\nHe stood for a while in the shadow of the doorway, gazing up into the\npale sky above him at the great, bright, round moon, that hung like a\nbubble above the sharp peaks of the roofs standing black as ink against\nthe sky. But all of a sudden he started up from the post against which\nhe had been leaning, and with head bent to one side, stood listening\nbreathlessly, for he too had heard that smothered cry from the\nwatch-tower. So he stood intently, motionlessly, listening, listening;\nbut all was silent except for the monotonous dripping of water in one of\nthe nooks of the court-yard, and the distant murmur of the river borne\nupon the breath of the night air. \"Mayhap I was mistaken,\" muttered\nSchwartz Carl to himself.\n\nBut the next moment the silence was broken again by a faint, shrill\nwhistle; what did it mean?\n\nBack of the heavy oaken door of the tower was Schwartz Carl's cross-bow,\nthe portable windlass with which the bowstring was drawn back, and a\npouch of bolts. Schwartz Carl reached back into the darkness, fumbling\nin the gloom until his fingers met the weapon. Setting his foot in the\niron stirrup at the end of the stock, he wound the stout bow-string\ninto the notch of the trigger, and carefully fitted the heavy,\nmurderous-looking bolt into the groove.\n\nMinute after minute passed, and Schwartz Carl, holding his arbelast in\nhis hand, stood silently waiting and watching in the sharp-cut, black\nshadow of the doorway, motionless as a stone statue. Minute after minute\npassed. Suddenly there was a movement in the shadow of the arch of the\ngreat gateway across the court-yard, and the next moment a leathern-clad\nfigure crept noiselessly out upon the moonlit pavement, and stood there\nlistening, his head bent to one side. Schwartz Carl knew very well\nthat it was no one belonging to the castle, and, from the nature of his\naction, that he was upon no good errand.\n\nHe did not stop to challenge the suspicious stranger. The taking of\nanother's life was thought too small a matter for much thought or care\nin those days. Schwartz Carl would have shot a man for a much smaller\nreason than the suspicious actions of this fellow. The leather-clad\nfigure stood a fine target in the moonlight for a cross-bow bolt.\nSchwartz Carl slowly raised the weapon to his shoulder and took a long\nand steady aim. Just then the stranger put his fingers to his lips and\ngave a low, shrill whistle. It was the last whistle that he was to give\nupon this earth. There was a sharp, jarring twang of the bow-string, the\nhiss of the flying bolt, and the dull thud as it struck its mark. The\nman gave a shrill, quavering cry, and went staggering back, and then\nfell all of a heap against the wall behind him. As though in answer to\nthe cry, half a dozen men rushed tumultuously out from the shadow of\nthe gateway whence the stranger had just come, and then stood in the\ncourt-yard, looking uncertainly this way and that, not knowing from what\nquarter the stroke had come that had laid their comrade low.\n\nBut Schwartz Carl did not give them time to discover that; there was no\nchance to string his cumbersome weapon again; down he flung it upon the\nground. \"To arms!\" he roared in a voice of thunder, and then clapped to\nthe door of Melchior's tower and shot the great iron bolts with a clang\nand rattle.\n\nThe next instant the Trutz-Drachen men were thundering at the door, but\nSchwartz Carl was already far up the winding steps.\n\nBut now the others came pouring out from the gateway. \"To the house,\"\nroared Baron Henry.\n\nThen suddenly a clashing, clanging uproar crashed out upon the night.\nDong! Dong! It was the great alarm bell from Melchior's tower--Schwartz\nCarl was at his post.\n\nLittle Baron Otto lay sleeping upon the great rough bed in his room,\ndreaming of the White Cross on the hill and of brother John. By and by\nhe heard the convent bell ringing, and knew that there must be visitors\nat the gate, for loud voices sounded through his dream. Presently he\nknew that he was coming awake, but though the sunny monastery garden\ngrew dimmer and dimmer to his sleeping sight, the clanging of the bell\nand the sound of shouts grew louder and louder. Then he opened his eyes.\nFlaming red lights from torches, carried hither and thither by people\nin the court-yard outside, flashed and ran along the wall of his\nroom. Hoarse shouts and cries filled the air, and suddenly the shrill,\npiercing shriek of a woman rang from wall to wall; and through the\nnoises the great bell from far above upon Melchior's tower clashed and\nclanged its harsh, resonant alarm.\n\nOtto sprang from his bed and looked out of the window and down upon\nthe court-yard below. \"Dear God! what dreadful thing hath happened?\" he\ncried and clasped his hands together.\n\nA cloud of smoke was pouring out from the windows of the building across\nthe court-yard, whence a dull ruddy glow flashed and flickered. Strange\nmen were running here and there with flaming torches, and the now\ncontinuous shrieking of women pierced the air.\n\nJust beneath the window lay the figure of a man half naked and face\ndownward upon the stones. Then suddenly Otto cried out in fear and\nhorror, for, as he looked with dazed and bewildered eyes down into the\nlurid court-yard beneath, a savage man, in a shining breast-plate and\nsteel cap, came dragging the dark, silent figure of a woman across the\nstones; but whether she was dead or in a swoon, Otto could not tell.\n\nAnd every moment the pulsing of that dull red glare from the windows of\nthe building across the court-yard shone more brightly, and the glare\nfrom other flaming buildings, which Otto could not see from his window,\nturned the black, starry night into a lurid day.\n\nJust then the door of the room was burst open, and in rushed poor old\nUrsela, crazy with her terror. She flung herself down upon the floor and\ncaught Otto around the knees. \"Save me!\" she cried, \"save me!\" as though\nthe poor, pale child could be of any help to her at such a time. In the\npassageway without shone the light of torches, and the sound of loud\nfootsteps came nearer and nearer.\n\nAnd still through all the din sounded continually the clash and clang\nand clamor of the great alarm bell.\n\nThe red light flashed into the room, and in the doorway stood a tall,\nthin figure clad from head to foot in glittering chain armor. From\nbehind this fierce knight, with his dark, narrow, cruel face, its\ndeep-set eyes glistening in the light of the torches, crowded six or\neight savage, low-browed, brutal men, who stared into the room and\nat the white-faced boy as he stood by the window with the old woman\nclinging to his knees and praying to him for help.\n\n\"We have cracked the nut and here is the kernel,\" said one of them who\nstood behind the rest, and thereupon a roar of brutal laughter went up.\nBut the cruel face of the armed knight never relaxed into a smile;\nhe strode into the room and laid his iron hand heavily upon the boy's\nshoulder. \"Art thou the young Baron Otto?\" said he, in a harsh voice.\n\n\"Aye,\" said the lad; \"but do not kill me.\"\n\nThe knight did not answer him. \"Fetch the cord hither,\" said he, \"and\ndrag the old witch away.\"\n\nIt took two of them to loosen poor old Ursela's crazy clutch from about\nher young master. Then amid roars of laughter they dragged her away,\nscreaming and scratching and striking with her fists.\n\nThey drew back Otto's arms behind his back and wrapped them round and\nround with a bowstring. Then they pushed and hustled and thrust him\nforth from the room and along the passageway, now bright with the flames\nthat roared and crackled without. Down the steep stairway they drove\nhim, where thrice he stumbled and fell amid roars of laughter. At last\nthey were out into the open air of the court-yard. Here was a terrible\nsight, but Otto saw nothing of it; his blue eyes were gazing far away,\nand his lips moved softly with the prayer that the good monks of St.\nMichaelsburg had taught him, for he thought that they meant to slay him.\n\nAll around the court-yard the flames roared and snapped and crackled.\nFour or five figures lay scattered here and there, silent in all the\nglare and uproar. The heat was so intense that they were soon forced\nback into the shelter of the great gateway, where the women captives,\nunder the guard of three or four of the Trutz-Drachen men, were crowded\ntogether in dumb, bewildered terror. Only one man was to be seen among\nthe captives, poor, old, half blind Master Rudolph, the steward,\nwho crouched tremblingly among the women. They had set the blaze to\nMelchior's tower, and now, below, it was a seething furnace. Above, the\nsmoke rolled in black clouds from the windows, but still the alarm bell\nsounded through all the blaze and smoke. Higher and higher the flames\nrose; a trickle of fire ran along the frame buildings hanging aloft in\nthe air. A clear flame burst out at the peak of the roof, but still the\nbell rang forth its clamorous clangor. Presently those who watched below\nsaw the cluster of buildings bend and sink and sway; there was a crash\nand roar, a cloud of sparks flew up as though to the very heavens\nthemselves, and the bell of Melchior's tower was stilled forever. A\ngreat shout arose from the watching, upturned faces.\n\n\"Forward!\" cried Baron Henry, and out from the gateway they swept and\nacross the drawbridge, leaving Drachenhausen behind them a flaming\nfurnace blazing against the gray of the early dawning.\n\n\n\n\nVIII. In the House of the Dragon Scorner.\n\nTall, narrow, gloomy room; no furniture but a rude bench a bare stone\nfloor, cold stone walls and a gloomy ceiling of arched stone over head;\na long, narrow slit of a window high above in the wall, through the iron\nbars of which Otto could see a small patch of blue sky and now and then\na darting swallow, for an instant seen, the next instant gone. Such\nwas the little baron's prison in Trutz-Drachen. Fastened to a bolt\nand hanging against the walls, hung a pair of heavy chains with gaping\nfetters at the ends. They were thick with rust, and the red stain of\nthe rust streaked the wall below where they hung like a smear of blood.\nLittle Otto shuddered as he looked at them; can those be meant for me,\nhe thought.\n\nNothing was to be seen but that one patch of blue sky far up in the\nwall. No sound from without was to be heard in that gloomy cell of\nstone, for the window pierced the outer wall, and the earth and its\nnoises lay far below.\n\nSuddenly a door crashed without, and the footsteps of men were heard\ncoming along the corridor. They stopped in front of Otto's cell; he\nheard the jingle of keys, and then a loud rattle of one thrust into\nthe lock of the heavy oaken door. The rusty bolt was shot back with a\nscreech, the door opened, and there stood Baron Henry, no longer in his\narmor, but clad in a long black robe that reached nearly to his feet,\na broad leather belt was girdled about his waist, and from it dangled a\nshort, heavy hunting sword.\n\nAnother man was with the Baron, a heavy-faced fellow clad in a leathern\njerkin over which was drawn a short coat of linked mail.\n\nThe two stood for a moment looking into the room, and Otto, his pale\nface glimmering in the gloom, sat upon the edge of the heavy wooden\nbench or bed, looking back at them out of his great blue eyes. Then the\ntwo entered and closed the door behind them.\n\n\"Dost thou know why thou art here?\" said the Baron, in his deep, harsh\nvoice.\n\n\"Nay,\" said Otto, \"I know not.\"\n\n\"So?\" said the Baron. \"Then I will tell thee. Three years ago the good\nBaron Frederick, my uncle, kneeled in the dust and besought mercy at thy\nfather's hands; the mercy he received was the coward blow that slew him.\nThou knowest the story?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said Otto, tremblingly, \"I know it.\"\n\n\"Then dost thou not know why I am here?\" said the Baron.\n\n\"Nay, dear Lord Baron, I know not,\" said poor little Otto, and began to\nweep.\n\nThe Baron stood for a moment or two looking gloomily upon him, as the\nlittle boy sat there with the tears running down his white face.\n\n\"I will tell thee,\" said he, at last; \"I swore an oath that the red cock\nshould crow on Drachenhausen, and I have given it to the dames. I swore\nan oath that no Vuelph that ever left my hands should be able to strike\nsuch a blow as thy father gave to Baron Frederick, and now I will fulfil\nthat too. Catch the boy, Casper, and hold him.\"\n\nAs the man in the mail shirt stepped toward little Otto, the boy leaped\nup from where he sat and caught the Baron about the knees. \"Oh! dear\nLord Baron,\" he cried, \"do not harm me; I am only a little child, I have\nnever done harm to thee; do not harm me.\"\n\n\"Take him away,\" said the Baron, harshly.\n\nThe fellow stooped, and loosening Otto's hold, in spite of his struggles\nand cries, carried him to the bench, against which he held him, whilst\nthe Baron stood above him.\n\nBaron Henry and the other came forth from the cell, carefully closing\nthe wooden door behind them. At the end of the corridor the Baron\nturned, \"Let the leech be sent to the boy,\" said he. And then he turned\nand walked away.\n\nOtto lay upon the hard couch in his cell, covered with a shaggy bear\nskin. His face was paler and thinner than ever, and dark rings encircled\nhis blue eyes. He was looking toward the door, for there was a noise of\nsomeone fumbling with the lock without.\n\nSince that dreadful day when Baron Henry had come to his cell, only two\nsouls had visited Otto. One was the fellow who had come with the Baron\nthat time; his name, Otto found, was Casper. He brought the boy his rude\nmeals of bread and meat and water. The other visitor was the leech or\ndoctor, a thin, weasand little man, with a kindly, wrinkled face and a\ngossiping tongue, who, besides binding wounds, bleeding, and leeching,\nand administering his simple remedies to those who were taken sick in\nthe castle, acted as the Baron's barber.\n\nThe Baron had left the key in the lock of the door, so that these two\nmight enter when they chose, but Otto knew that it was neither the one\nnor the other whom he now heard at the door, working uncertainly with\nthe key, striving to turn it in the rusty, cumbersome lock. At last the\nbolts grated back, there was a pause, and then the door opened a little\nway, and Otto thought that he could see someone peeping in from without.\nBy and by the door opened further, there was another pause, and then\na slender, elfish-looking little girl, with straight black hair and\nshining black eyes, crept noiselessly into the room.\n\nShe stood close by the door with her finger in her mouth, staring at\nthe boy where he lay upon his couch, and Otto upon his part lay, full of\nwonder, gazing back upon the little elfin creature.\n\nShe, seeing that he made no sign or motion, stepped a little nearer, and\nthen, after a moment's pause, a little nearer still, until, at last, she\nstood within a few feet of where he lay.\n\n\"Art thou the Baron Otto?\" said she.\n\n\"Yes,\" answered Otto.\n\n\"Prut!\" said she, \"and is that so! Why, I thought that thou wert a great\ntall fellow at least, and here thou art a little boy no older than Carl\nMax, the gooseherd.\" Then, after a little pause--\"My name is Pauline,\nand my father is the Baron. I heard him tell my mother all about thee,\nand so I wanted to come here and see thee myself: Art thou sick?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Otto, \"I am sick.\"\n\n\"And did my father hurt thee?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said Otto, and his eyes filled with tears, until one sparkling\ndrop trickled slowly down his white face.\n\nLittle Pauline stood looking seriously at him for a while. \"I am sorry\nfor thee, Otto,\" said she, at last. And then, at her childish pity, he\nbegan crying in earnest.\n\nThis was only the first visit of many from the little maid, for after\nthat she often came to Otto's prison, who began to look for her coming\nfrom day to day as the one bright spot in the darkness and the gloom.\n\nSitting upon the edge of his bed and gazing into his face with wide open\neyes, she would listen to him by the hour, as he told her of his life in\nthat far away monastery home; of poor, simple brother John's wonderful\nvisions, of the good Abbot's books with their beautiful pictures, and of\nall the monkish tales and stories of knights and dragons and heroes and\nemperors of ancient Rome, which brother Emmanuel had taught him to read\nin the crabbed monkish Latin in which they were written.\n\nOne day the little maid sat for a long while silent after he had ended\nspeaking. At last she drew a deep breath. \"And are all these things that\nthou tellest me about the priests in their castle really true?\" said\nshe.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Otto, \"all are true.\"\n\n\"And do they never go out to fight other priests?\"\n\n\"No,\" said Otto, \"they know nothing of fighting.\"\n\n\"So!\" said she. And then fell silent in the thought of the wonder of\nit all, and that there should be men in the world that knew nothing of\nviolence and bloodshed; for in all the eight years of her life she had\nscarcely been outside of the walls of Castle Trutz-Drachen.\n\nAt another time it was of Otto's mother that they were speaking.\n\n\"And didst thou never see her, Otto?\" said the little girl.\n\n\"Aye,\" said Otto, \"I see her sometimes in my dreams, and her face always\nshines so bright that I know she is an angel; for brother John has often\nseen the dear angels, and he tells me that their faces always shine in\nthat way. I saw her the night thy father hurt me so, for I could not\nsleep and my head felt as though it would break asunder. Then she\ncame and leaned over me and kissed my forehead, and after that I fell\nasleep.\"\n\n\"But where did she come from, Otto?\" said the little girl.\n\n\"From paradise, I think,\" said Otto, with that patient seriousness that\nhe had caught from the monks, and that sat so quaintly upon him.\n\n\"So!\" said little Pauline; and then, after a pause, \"That is why thy\nmother kissed thee when thy head ached--because she is an angel. When\nI was sick my mother bade Gretchen carry me to a far part of the house,\nbecause I cried and so troubled her. Did thy mother ever strike thee,\nOtto?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Otto.\n\n\"Mine hath often struck me,\" said Pauline.\n\nOne day little Pauline came bustling into Otto's cell, her head full of\nthe news which she carried. \"My father says that thy father is out\nin the woods somewhere yonder, back of the castle, for Fritz, the\nswineherd, told my father that last night he had seen a fire in the\nwoods, and that he had crept up to it without anyone knowing. There he\nhad seen the Baron Conrad and six of his men, and that they were eating\none of the swine that they had killed and roasted. Maybe,\" said she,\nseating herself upon the edge of Otto's couch; \"maybe my father will\nkill thy father, and they will bring him here and let him lie upon a\nblack bed with bright candles burning around him, as they did my uncle\nFrederick when he was killed.\"\n\n\"God forbid!\" said Otto, and then lay for a while with his hands\nclasped. \"Dost thou love me, Pauline?\" said he, after a while.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Pauline, \"for thou art a good child, though my father says\nthat thy wits are cracked.\"\n\n\"Mayhap they are,\" said Otto, simply, \"for I have often been told so\nbefore. But thou wouldst not see me die, Pauline; wouldst thou?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Pauline, \"I would not see thee die, for then thou couldst\ntell me no more stories; for they told me that uncle Frederick could not\nspeak because he was dead.\"\n\n\"Then listen, Pauline,\" said Otto; \"if I go not away from here I shall\nsurely die. Every day I grow more sick and the leech cannot cure me.\"\nHere he broke down and, turning his face upon the couch, began crying,\nwhile little Pauline sat looking seriously at him.\n\n\"Why dost thou cry, Otto?\" said she, after a while.\n\n\"Because,\" said he, \"I am so sick, and I want my father to come and take\nme away from here.\"\n\n\"But why dost thou want to go away?\" said Pauline. \"If thy father takes\nthee away, thou canst not tell me any more stories.\"\n\n\"Yes, I can,\" said Otto, \"for when I grow to be a man I will come\nagain and marry thee, and when thou art my wife I can tell thee all the\nstories that I know. Dear Pauline, canst thou not tell my father where I\nam, that he may come here and take me away before I die?\"\n\n\"Mayhap I could do so,\" said Pauline, after a little while, \"for\nsometimes I go with Casper Max to see his mother, who nursed me when I\nwas a baby. She is the wife of Fritz, the swineherd, and she will make\nhim tell thy father; for she will do whatever I ask of her, and Fritz\nwill do whatever she bids him do.\"\n\n\"And for my sake, wilt thou tell him, Pauline?\" said Otto.\n\n\"But see, Otto,\" said the little girl, \"if I tell him, wilt thou promise\nto come indeed and marry me when thou art grown a man?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Otto, very seriously, \"I will promise.\"\n\n\"Then I will tell thy father where thou art,\" said she.\n\n\"But thou wilt do it without the Baron Henry knowing, wilt thou not,\nPauline?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said she, \"for if my father and my mother knew that I did such\na thing, they would strike me, mayhap send me to my bed alone in the\ndark.\"\n\n\n\n\nIX. How One-eyed Hans came to Trutz-Drachen.\n\nFritz, the swineherd, sat eating his late supper of porridge out of a\ngreat, coarse, wooden bowl; wife Katherine sat at the other end of the\ntable, and the half-naked little children played upon the earthen floor.\nA shaggy dog lay curled up in front of the fire, and a grunting pig\nscratched against a leg of the rude table close beside where the woman\nsat.\n\n\"Yes, yes,\" said Katherine, speaking of the matter of which they had\nalready been talking. \"It is all very true that the Drachenhausens are a\nbad lot, and I for one am of no mind to say no to that; all the same it\nis a sad thing that a simple-witted little child like the young Baron\nshould be so treated as the boy has been; and now that our Lord Baron\nhas served him so that he, at least, will never be able to do us 'harm,\nI for one say that he should not be left there to die alone in that\nblack cell.\"\n\nFritz, the swineherd, gave a grunt at this without raising his eyes from\nthe bowl.\n\n\"Yes, good,\" said Katherine, \"I know what thou meanest, Fritz, and that\nit is none of my business to be thrusting my finger into the Baron's\ndish. But to hear the way that dear little child spoke when she was here\nthis morn--it would have moved a heart of stone to hear her tell of all\nhis pretty talk. Thou wilt try to let the red-beard know that that poor\nboy, his son, is sick to death in the black cell; wilt thou not, Fritz?\"\n\nThe swineherd dropped his wooden spoon into the bowl with a clatter.\n\"Potstausand!\" he cried; \"art thou gone out of thy head to let thy wits\nrun upon such things as this of which thou talkest to me? If it should\ncome to our Lord Baron's ears he would cut the tongue from out thy head\nand my head from off my shoulders for it. Dost thou think I am going to\nmeddle in such a matter as this? Listen! these proud Baron folk, with\ntheir masterful ways, drive our sort hither and thither; they beat us,\nthey drive us, they kill us as they choose. Our lives are not as much\nto them as one of my black swine. Why should I trouble my head if they\nchoose to lop and trim one another? The fewer there are of them the\nbetter for us, say I. We poor folk have a hard enough life of it without\nthrusting our heads into the noose to help them out of their troubles.\nWhat thinkest thou would happen to us if Baron Henry should hear of our\nbetraying his affairs to the Red-beard?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Katherine, \"thou hast naught to do in the matter but to tell\nthe Red-beard in what part of the castle the little Baron lies.\"\n\n\"And what good would that do?\" said Fritz, the swineherd.\n\n\"I know not,\" said Katherine, \"but I have promised the little one that\nthou wouldst find the Baron Conrad and tell him that much.\"\n\n\"Thou hast promised a mare's egg,\" said her husband, angrily. \"How shall\nI find the Baron Conrad to bear a message to him, when our Baron has\nbeen looking for him in vain for two days past?\"\n\n\"Thou has found him once and thou mayst find him again,\" said Katherine,\n\"for it is not likely that he will keep far away from here whilst his\nboy is in such sore need of help.\"\n\n\"I will have nothing to do with it!\" said Fritz, and he got up from the\nwooden block whereon he was sitting and stumped out of the house. But,\nthen, Katherine had heard him talk in that way before, and knew, in\nspite of his saying \"no,\" that, sooner or later, he would do as she\nwished.\n\nTwo days later a very stout little one-eyed man, clad in a leathern\njerkin and wearing a round leathern cap upon his head, came toiling up\nthe path to the postern door of Trutz-Drachen, his back bowed under the\nburthen of a great peddler's pack. It was our old friend the one-eyed\nHans, though even his brother would hardly have known him in his present\nguise, for, besides having turned peddler, he had grown of a sudden\nsurprisingly fat.\n\nRap-tap-tap! He knocked at the door with a knotted end of the crooked\nthorned staff upon which he leaned. He waited for a while and then\nknocked again--rap-tap-tap!\n\nPresently, with a click, a little square wicket that pierced the door\nwas opened, and a woman's face peered out through the iron bars.\n\nThe one-eyed Hans whipped off his leathern cap.\n\n\"Good day, pretty one,\" said he, \"and hast thou any need of glass beads,\nribbons, combs, or trinkets? Here I am come all the way from Gruenstadt,\nwith a pack full of such gay things as thou never laid eyes on before.\nHere be rings and bracelets and necklaces that might be of pure silver\nand set with diamonds and rubies, for anything that thy dear one could\ntell if he saw thee decked in them. And all are so cheap that thou hast\nonly to say, 'I want them,' and they are thine.\"\n\nThe frightened face at the window looked from right to left and from\nleft to right. \"Hush,\" said the girl, and laid her finger upon her lips.\n\"There! thou hadst best get away from here, poor soul, as fast as thy\nlegs can carry thee, for if the Lord Baron should find thee here talking\nsecretly at the postern door, he would loose the wolf-hounds upon thee.\"\n\n\"Prut,\" said one-eyed Hans, with a grin, \"the Baron is too big a fly to\nsee such a little gnat as I; but wolf-hounds or no wolf-hounds, I\ncan never go hence without showing thee the pretty things that I have\nbrought from the town, even though my stay be at the danger of my own\nhide.\"\n\nHe flung the pack from off his shoulders as he spoke and fell to\nunstrapping it, while the round face of the lass (her eyes big with\ncuriosity) peered down at him through the grated iron bars.\n\nHans held up a necklace of blue and white beads that glistened like\njewels in the sun, and from them hung a gorgeous filigree cross. \"Didst\nthou ever see a sweeter thing than this?\" said he; \"and look, here is a\ncomb that even the silversmith would swear was pure silver all the way\nthrough.\" Then, in a soft, wheedling voice, \"Canst thou not let me in,\nmy little bird? Sure there are other lasses besides thyself who would\nlike to trade with a poor peddler who has travelled all the way from\nGruenstadt just to please the pretty ones of Trutz-Drachen.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said the lass, in a frightened voice, \"I cannot let thee in; I\nknow not what the Baron would do to me, even now, if he knew that I was\nhere talking to a stranger at the postern;\" and she made as if she would\nclap to the little window in his face; but the one-eyed Hans thrust his\nstaff betwixt the bars and so kept the shutter open.\n\n\"Nay, nay,\" said he, eagerly, \"do not go away from me too soon. Look,\ndear one; seest thou this necklace?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said she, looking hungrily at it.\n\n\"Then listen; if thou wilt but let me into the castle, so that I may\nstrike a trade, I will give it to thee for thine own without thy paying\na barley corn for it.\"\n\nThe girl looked and hesitated, and then looked again; the temptation was\ntoo great. There was a noise of softly drawn bolts and bars, the door\nwas hesitatingly opened a little way, and, in a twinkling, the one-eyed\nHans had slipped inside the castle, pack and all.\n\n\"The necklace,\" said the girl, in a frightened whisper.\n\nHans thrust it into her hand. \"It's thine,\" said he, \"and now wilt thou\nnot help me to a trade?\"\n\n\"I will tell my sister that thou art here,\" said she, and away she ran\nfrom the little stone hallway, carefully bolting and locking the further\ndoor behind her.\n\nThe door that the girl had locked was the only one that connected the\npostern hail with the castle.\n\nThe one-eyed Hans stood looking after her. \"Thou fool!\" he muttered to\nhimself, \"to lock the door behind thee. What shall I do next, I should\nlike to know? Here am I just as badly off as I was when I stood outside\nthe walls. Thou hussy! If thou hadst but let me into the castle for only\ntwo little minutes, I would have found somewhere to have hidden myself\nwhile thy back was turned. But what shall I do now?\" He rested his pack\nupon the floor and stood looking about him.\n\nBuilt in the stone wall opposite to him, was a high, narrow fireplace\nwithout carving of any sort. As Hans' one eye wandered around the bare\nstone space, his glance fell at last upon it, and there it rested. For\na while he stood looking intently at it, presently he began rubbing his\nhand over his bristling chin in a thoughtful, meditative manner. Finally\nhe drew a deep breath, and giving himself a shake as though to arouse\nhimself from his thoughts, and after listening a moment or two to\nmake sure that no one was nigh, he walked softly to the fireplace, and\nstooping, peered up the chimney. Above him yawned a black cavernous\ndepth, inky with the soot of years. Hans straightened himself, and\ntilting his leathern cap to one side, began scratching his bullet-head;\nat last he drew a long breath. \"Yes, good,\" he muttered to himself; \"he\nwho jumps into the river must e'en swim the best he can. It is a vile,\ndirty place to thrust one's self; but I am in for it now, and must make\nthe best of a lame horse.\"\n\nHe settled the cap more firmly upon his head, spat upon his hands, and\nonce more stooping in the fireplace, gave a leap, and up the chimney he\nwent with a rattle of loose mortar and a black trickle of soot.\n\nBy and by footsteps sounded outside the door. There was a pause; a\nhurried whispering of women's voices; the twitter of a nervous laugh,\nand then the door was pushed softly opens and the girl to whom the\none-eyed Hans had given the necklace of blue and white beads with the\nfiligree cross hanging from it, peeped uncertainly into the room. Behind\nher broad, heavy face were three others, equally homely and stolid; for\na while all four stood there, looking blankly into the room and around\nit. Nothing was there but the peddler's knapsack lying in the middle of\nthe floor-the man was gone. The light of expectancy slowly faded Out of\nthe girl's face, and in its place succeeded first bewilderment and then\ndull alarm. \"But, dear heaven,\" she said, \"where then has the peddler\nman gone?\"\n\nA moment or two of silence followed her speech. \"Perhaps,\" said one of\nthe others, in a voice hushed with awe, \"perhaps it was the evil one\nhimself to whom thou didst open the door.\"\n\nAgain there was a hushed and breathless pause; it was the lass who had\nlet Hans in at the postern, who next spoke.\n\n\"Yes,\" said she, in a voice trembling with fright at what she had done,\n\"yes, it must have been the evil one, for now I remember he had but one\neye.\" The four girls crossed themselves, and their eyes grew big and\nround with the fright.\n\nSuddenly a shower of mortar came rattling down the chimney. \"Ach!\" cried\nthe four, as with one voice. Bang! the door was clapped to and away they\nscurried like a flock of frightened rabbits.\n\nWhen Jacob, the watchman, came that way an hour later, upon his evening\nround of the castle, he found a peddler's knapsack lying in the middle\nof the floor. He turned it over with his pike-staff and saw that it was\nfull of beads and trinkets and ribbons.\n\n\"How came this here?\" said he. And then, without waiting for the answer\nwhich he did not expect, he flung it over his shoulder and marched away\nwith it.\n\n\n\n\nX. How Hans Brought Terror to the Kitchen.\n\nHans found himself in a pretty pickle in the chimney, for the soot got\ninto his one eye and set it to watering, and into his nose and set him\nto sneezing, and into his mouth and his ears and his hair. But still\nhe struggled on, up and up; \"for every chimney has a top,\" said Hans\nto himself \"and I am sure to climb out somewhere or other.\" Suddenly he\ncame to a place where another chimney joined the one he was climbing,\nand here he stopped to consider the matter at his leisure. \"See now,\" he\nmuttered, \"if I still go upward I may come out at the top of some tall\nchimney-stack with no way of getting down outside. Now, below here\nthere must be a fire-place somewhere, for a chimney does not start from\nnothing at all; yes, good! we will go down a while and see what we make\nof that.\"\n\nIt was a crooked, zigzag road that he had to travel, and rough and hard\ninto the bargain. His one eye tingled and smarted, and his knees and\nelbows were rubbed to the quick; nevertheless One-eyed Hans had been in\nworse trouble than this in his life.\n\nDown he went and down he went, further than he had climbed upward\nbefore. \"Sure, I must be near some place or other,\" he thought.\n\nAs though in instant answer to his thoughts, he heard the sudden sound\nof a voice so close beneath him that he stopped short in his downward\nclimbing and stood as still as a mouse, with his heart in his mouth.\nA few inches more and he would have been discovered;--what would have\nhappened then would have been no hard matter to foretell.\n\nHans braced his back against one side of the chimney, his feet against\nthe other and then, leaning forward, looked down between his knees. The\ngray light of the coming evening glimmered in a wide stone fireplace\njust below him. Within the fireplace two people were moving about upon\nthe broad hearth, a great, fat woman and a shock-headed boy. The woman\nheld a spit with two newly trussed fowls upon it, so that One-eyed Hans\nknew that she must be the cook.\n\n\"Thou ugly toad,\" said the woman to the boy, \"did I not bid thee make a\nfire an hour ago? and now, here there is not so much as a spark to roast\nthe fowls withall, and they to be basted for the lord Baron's supper.\nWhere hast thou been for all this time?\"\n\n\"No matter,\" said the boy, sullenly, as he laid the fagots ready for the\nlighting; \"no matter, I was not running after Long Jacob, the bowman, to\ntry to catch him for a sweetheart, as thou hast been doing.\"\n\nThe reply was instant and ready. The cook raised her hand; \"smack!\" she\nstruck and a roar from the scullion followed.\n\n\"Yes, good,\" thought Hans, as he looked down upon them; \"I am glad that\nthe boy's ear was not on my head.\"\n\n\"Now give me no more of thy talk,\" said the woman, \"but do the work\nthat thou hast been bidden.\" Then--\"How came all this black soot here, I\nshould like to know?\"\n\n\"How should I know?\" snuffled the scullion, \"mayhap thou wouldst blame\nthat on me also?\"\n\n\"That is my doing,\" whispered Hans to himself; \"but if they light the\nfire, what then becomes of me?\"\n\n\"See now,\" said the cook; \"I go to make the cakes ready; if I come back\nand find that thou hast not built the fire, I will warm thy other ear\nfor thee.\"\n\n\"So,\" thought Hans; \"then will be my time to come down the chimney, for\nthere will be but one of them.\"\n\nThe next moment he heard the door close and knew that the cook had gone\nto make the cakes ready as she said. And as he looked down he saw that\nthe boy was bending over the bundle of fagots, blowing the spark that\nhe had brought in upon the punk into a flame. The dry fagots began to\ncrackle and blaze. \"Now is my time,\" said Hans to himself. Bracing his\nelbows against each side of the chimney, he straightened his legs so\nthat he might fall clear His motions loosened little shower of soot that\nfell rattling upon the fagots that were now beginning to blaze brightly,\nwhereupon the boy raised his face and looked up. Hans loosened his hold\nupon the chimney; crash! he fell, lighting upon his feet in the midst\nof the burning fagots. The scullion boy tumbled backward upon the floor,\nwhere he lay upon the broad of his back with a face as white as\ndough and eyes and mouth agape, staring speechlessly at the frightful\ninky-black figure standing in the midst of the flames and smoke. Then\nhis scattered wits came back to him. \"It is the evil one,\" he roared.\nAnd thereupon, turning upon his side, he half rolled, half scrambled to\nthe door. Then out he leaped and, banging it to behind him, flew down\nthe passageway, yelling with fright and never daring once to look behind\nhim.\n\nAll the time One-eyed Hans was brushing away the sparks that clung to\nhis clothes. He was as black as ink from head to foot with the soot from\nthe chimney.\n\n\"So far all is good,\" he muttered to himself, \"but if I go wandering\nabout in my sooty shoes I will leave black tracks to follow me, so there\nis nothing to do but e'en to go barefoot.\"\n\nHe stooped and drawing the pointed soft leather shoes from his feet, he\nthrew them upon the now blazing fagots, where they writhed and twisted\nand wrinkled, and at last burst into a flame. Meanwhile Hans lost no\ntime; he must find a hiding-place, and quickly, if he would yet hope\nto escape. A great bread trough stood in the corner of the kitchen--a\nhopper-shaped chest with a flat lid. It was the best hiding place that\nthe room afforded. Without further thought Hans ran to it, snatching up\nfrom the table as he passed a loaf of black bread and a bottle half full\nof stale wine, for he had had nothing to eat since that morning. Into\nthe great bread trough he climbed, and drawing the lid down upon him,\ncurled himself up as snugly as a mouse in its nest.\n\nFor a while the kitchen lay in silence, but at last the sound of voices\nwas heard at the door, whispering together in low tones. Suddenly the\ndoor was flung open and a tall, lean, lantern-jawed fellow, clad in\nrough frieze, strode into the room and stood there glaring with half\nfrightened boldness around about him; three or four women and the\ntrembling scullion crowded together in a frightened group behind him.\n\nThe man was Long Jacob, the bowman; but, after all, his boldness was\nall wasted, for not a thread or a hair was to be seen, but only the\ncrackling fire throwing its cheerful ruddy glow upon the wall of the\nroom, now rapidly darkening in the falling gray of the twilight without.\n\nThe fat cook's fright began rapidly to turn into anger.\n\n\"Thou imp,\" she cried, \"it is one of thy tricks,\" and she made a dive\nfor the scullion, who ducked around the skirts of one of the other women\nand so escaped for the time; but Long Jacob wrinkled up his nose and\nsniffed. \"Nay,\" said he, \"me thinks that there lieth some truth in the\ntale that the boy hath told, for here is a vile smell of burned horn\nthat the black one bath left behind him.\"\n\nIt was the smell from the soft leather shoes that Hans had burned.\n\nThe silence of night had fallen over the Castle of Trutz-Drachen; not\na sound was heard but the squeaking of mice scurring behind the\nwainscoting, the dull dripping of moisture from the eaves, or the\nsighing of the night wind around the gables and through the naked\nwindows of the castle.\n\nThe lid of the great dough trough was softly raised, and a face, black\nwith soot, peeped cautiously out from under it. Then little by little\narose a figure as black as the face; and One-eyed Hans stepped out upon\nthe floor, stretching and rubbing himself.\n\n\"Methinks I must have slept,\" he muttered. \"Hui, I am as stiff as a new\nleather doublet, and now, what next is to become of me? I hope my luck\nmay yet stick to me, in spite of this foul black soot!\"\n\nAlong the middle of the front of the great hall of the castle, ran a\nlong stone gallery, opening at one end upon the court-yard by a high\nflight of stone steps. A man-at-arms in breast-plate and steel cap, and\nbearing a long pike, paced up and down the length of this gallery, now\nand then stopping, leaning over the edge, and gazing up into the starry\nsky above; then, with a long drawn yawn, lazily turning back to the\nmonotonous watch again.\n\nA dark figure crept out from an arched doorway at the lower part of the\nlong straight building, and some little distance below the end gallery,\nbut the sentry saw nothing of it, for his back was turned. As silently\nand as stealthily as a cat the figure crawled along by the dark shadowy\nwall, now and then stopping, and then again creeping slowly forward\ntoward the gallery where the man-at-arms moved monotonously up and down.\nIt was One-eyed Hans in his bare feet.\n\nInch by inch, foot by foot--the black figure crawled along in the angle\nof the wall; inch by inch and foot by foot, but ever nearer and nearer\nto the long straight row of stone steps that led to the covered gallery.\nAt last it crouched at the lowest step of the flight. Just then the\nsentinel upon watch came to the very end of the gallery and stood there\nleaning upon his spear. Had he looked down below he could not have\nfailed to have seen One-eyed Hans lying there motionlessly; but he was\ngazing far away over the steep black roofs beyond, and never saw the\nunsuspected presence. Minute after minute passed, and the one stood\nthere looking out into the night and the other lay crouching by the\nwall; then with a weary sigh the sentry turned and began slowly pacing\nback again toward the farther end of the gallery.\n\nInstantly the motionless figure below arose and glided noiselessly and\nswiftly up the flight of steps.\n\nTwo rude stone pillars flanked either side of the end of the gallery.\nLike a shadow the black figure slipped behind one of these, flattening\nitself up against the wall, where it stood straight and motionless as\nthe shadows around it.\n\nDown the long gallery came the watchman, his sword clinking loudly in\nthe silence as he walked, tramp, tramp, tramp! clink, clank, jingle.\n\nWithin three feet of the motionless figure behind the pillar he turned,\nand began retracing his monotonous steps. Instantly the other left the\nshadow of the post and crept rapidly and stealthily after him. One step,\ntwo steps the sentinel took; for a moment the black figure behind him\nseemed to crouch and draw together, then like a flash it leaped forward\nupon its victim.\n\nA shadowy cloth fell upon the man's face, and in an instant he was flung\nback and down with a muffled crash upon the stones. Then followed a\nfierce and silent struggle in the darkness, but strong and sturdy as the\nman was, he was no match for the almost superhuman strength of One-eyed\nHans. The cloth which he had flung over his head was tied tightly and\nsecurely. Then the man was forced upon his face and, in spite of his\nfierce struggles, his arms were bound around and around with strong fine\ncord; next his feet were bound in the same way, and the task was done.\nThen Hans stood upon his feet, and wiped the sweat from his swarthy\nforehead. \"Listen, brother,\" he whispered, and as he spoke he stooped\nand pressed something cold and hard against the neck of the other.\n\"Dost thou know the feel of this? It is a broad dagger, and if thou\ndost contrive to loose that gag from thy mouth and makest any outcry, it\nshall be sheathed in thy weasand.\"\n\nSo saying, he thrust the knife back again into its sheath, then stooping\nand picking up the other, he flung him across his shoulder like a sack,\nand running down the steps as lightly as though his load was nothing at\nall, he carried his burden to the arched doorway whence he had come a\nlittle while before. There, having first stripped his prisoner of\nall his weapons, Hans sat the man up in the angle of the wall. \"So,\nbrother;\" said he, \"now we can talk with more ease than we could up\nyonder. I will tell thee frankly why I am here; it is to find where the\nyoung Baron Otto of Drachenhausen is kept. If thou canst tell me,\nwell and good; if not, I must e'en cut thy weasand and find me one who\nknoweth more. Now, canst thou tell me what I would learn, brother?\"\n\nThe other nodded dimly in the darkness.\n\n\"That is good,\" said Hans, \"then I will loose thy gag until thou hast\ntold me; only bear in mind what I said concerning my dagger.\"\n\nThereupon, he unbound his prisoner, and the fellow slowly rose to his\nfeet. He shook himself and looked all about him in a heavy, bewildered\nfashion, as though he had just awakened from a dream.\n\nHis right hand slid furtively down to his side, but the dagger-sheath\nwas empty.\n\n\"Come, brother!\" said Hans, impatiently, \"time is passing, and once lost\ncan never be found again. Show me the way to the young Baron Otto or--.\"\nAnd he whetted the shining blade of his dagger on his horny palm.\n\nThe fellow needed no further bidding; turning, he led the way, and\ntogether they were swallowed up in the yawning shadows, and again the\nhush of night-time lay upon the Castle of Trutz-Drachen.\n\n\n\n\nXI. How Otto was Saved.\n\nLittle Otto was lying upon the hard couch in his cell, tossing in\nrestless and feverish sleep; suddenly a heavy hand was laid upon him and\na voice whispered in his ear, \"Baron, Baron Otto, waken, rouse yourself;\nI am come to help you. I am One-eyed Hans.\"\n\nOtto was awake in an instant and raised himself upon his elbow in the\ndarkness. \"One-eyed Hans,\" he breathed, \"One-eyed Hans; who is One-eyed\nHans?\"\n\n\"True,\" said the other, \"thou dost not know me. I am thy father's\ntrusted servant, and am the only one excepting his own blood and kin\nwho has clung to him in this hour of trouble. Yes, all are gone but me\nalone, and so I have come to help thee away from this vile place.\"\n\n\"Oh, dear, good Hans! if only thou canst!\" cried Otto; \"if only thou\ncanst take me away from this wicked place. Alas, dear Hans! I am weary\nand sick to death.\" And poor little Otto began to weep silently in the\ndarkness.\n\n\"Aye, aye,\" said Hans, gruffly, \"it is no place for a little child\nto be. Canst thou climb, my little master? canst thou climb a knotted\nrope?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Otto, \"I can never climb again! See, Hans;\" and he flung\nback the covers from off him.\n\n\"I cannot see,\" said Hans, \"it is too dark.\"\n\n\"Then feel, dear Hans,\" said Otto.\n\nHans bent over the poor little white figure glimmering palely in the\ndarkness. Suddenly he drew back with a snarl like an angry wolf. \"Oh!\nthe black, bloody wretches!\" he cried, hoarsely; \"and have they done\nthat to thee, a little child?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Otto, \"the Baron Henry did it.\" And then again he began to\ncry.\n\n\"There, there,\" said Hans, roughly, \"weep no more. Thou shalt get away\nfrom here even if thou canst not climb; I myself will help thee. Thy\nfather is already waiting below the window here, and thou shalt soon be\nwith him. There, there, cry no more.\"\n\nWhile he was speaking Hans had stripped off his peddler's leathern\njacket, and there, around his body, was wrapped coil after coil of stout\nhempen rope tied in knots at short distances. He began unwinding the\nrope, and when he had done he was as thin as ever he had been before.\nNext he drew from the pouch that hung at his side a ball of fine cord\nand a leaden weight pierced by a hole, both of which he had brought with\nhim for the use to which he now put them. He tied the lead to the end of\nthe cord, then whirling the weight above his head, he flung it up toward\nthe window high above. Twice the piece of lead fell back again into the\nroom; the third time it flew out between the iron bars carrying the cord\nwith it. Hans held the ball in his hand and paid out the string as the\nweight carried it downward toward the ground beneath. Suddenly the cord\nstopped running. Hans jerked it and shook it, but it moved no farther.\n\"Pray heaven, little child,\" said he, \"that it hath reached the ground,\nfor if it hath not we are certainly lost.\"\n\n\"I do pray,\" said Otto, and he bowed his head.\n\nThen, as though in answer to his prayer, there came a twitch upon the\ncord.\n\n\"See,\" said Hans, \"they have heard thee up above in heaven; it was thy\nfather who did that.\" Quickly and deftly he tied the cord to the end of\nthe knotted rope; then he gave an answering jerk upon the string. The\nnext moment the rope was drawn up to the window and down the outside by\nthose below. Otto lay watching the rope as it crawled up to the window\nand out into the night like a great snake, while One-eyed Hans held the\nother end lest it should be drawn too far. At last it stopped. \"Good,\"\nmuttered Hans, as though to himself. \"The rope is long enough.\"\n\nHe waited for a few minutes and then, drawing upon the rope and finding\nthat it was held from below, he spat upon his hands and began slowly\nclimbing up to the window above. Winding his arm around the iron bars of\nthe grating that guarded it, he thrust his hand into the pouch that hung\nby his side, and drawing forth a file, fell to work cutting through all\nthat now lay between Otto and liberty.\n\nIt was slow, slow work, and it seemed to Otto as though Hans would never\nfinish his task, as lying upon his hard couch he watched that figure,\nblack against the sky, bending over its work. Now and then the file\nscreeched against the hard iron, and then Hans would cease for a moment,\nbut only to begin again as industriously as ever. Three or four times he\ntried the effects of his work, but still the iron held. At last he\nset his shoulder against it, and as Otto looked he saw the iron bend.\nSuddenly there was a sharp crack, and a piece of the grating went flying\nout into the night.\n\nHans tied the rope securely about the stump of the stout iron bar that\nyet remained, and then slid down again into the room below.\n\n\"My little lord,\" said he, \"dost thou think that if I carry thee, thou\nwilt be able and strong enough to cling to my neck?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said Otto, \"methinks I will be able to do that.\"\n\n\"Then come,\" said Hans.\n\nHe stooped as he spoke, and gently lifting Otto from his rude and rugged\nbed he drew his broad leathern belt around them both, buckling it firmly\nand securely. \"It does not hurt thee?\" said he.\n\n\"Not much,\" whispered Otto faintly.\n\nThen Hans spat upon his hands, and began slowly climbing the rope.\n\nThey reached the edge of the window and there they rested for a moment,\nand Otto renewed his hold around the neck of the faithful Hans.\n\n\"And now art thou ready?\" said Hans\n\n\"Aye,\" said Otto.\n\n\"Then courage,\" said Hans, and he turned and swung his leg over the\nabyss below.\n\nThe next moment they were hanging in mid-air.\n\nOtto looked down and gave a gasp. \"The mother of heaven bless us,\" he\nwhispered, and then closed his eyes, faint and dizzy at the sight of\nthat sheer depth beneath. Hans said nothing, but shutting his teeth\nand wrapping his legs around the rope, he began slowly descending, hand\nunder hand. Down, down, down he went, until to Otto, with his eyes shut\nand his head leaning upon Hans' shoulder, it seemed as though it could\nnever end. Down, down, down. Suddenly he felt Hans draw a deep breath;\nthere was a slight jar, and Otto opened his eyes; Hans was standing upon\nthe ground.\n\nA figure wrapped in a dark cloak arose from the shadow of the wall, and\ntook Otto in its arms. It was Baron Conrad.\n\n\"My son--my little child!\" he cried, in a choked, trembling voice, and\nthat was all. And Otto pressed his cheek against his father's and began\ncrying.\n\nSuddenly the Baron gave a sharp, fierce cry. \"Dear Heaven!\" he cried;\n\"what have they done to thee?\" But poor little Otto could not answer.\n\n\"Oh!\" gasped the Baron, in a strangled voice, \"my little child! my\nlittle child!\" And therewith he broke down, and his whole body shook\nwith fierce, dry sobs; for men in those days did not seek to hide their\ngrief as they do now, but were fierce and strong in the expression of\nthat as of all else.\n\n\"Never mind, dear father,\" whispered Otto; \"it did not hurt me so very\nmuch,\" and he pressed his lips against his father's cheek.\n\nLittle Otto had but one hand.\n\n\n\n\nXII. A Ride For Life.\n\nBut not yet was Otto safe, and all danger past and gone by. Suddenly, as\nthey stood there, the harsh clangor of a bell broke the silence of\nthe starry night above their heads, and as they raised their faces and\nlooked up, they saw lights flashing from window to window. Presently\ncame the sound of a hoarse voice shouting something that, from the\ndistance, they could not understand.\n\nOne-eyed Hans smote his hand upon his thigh. Look said he, \"here is\nwhat comes of having a soft heart in one's bosom. I overcame and bound a\nwatchman up yonder, and forced him to tell me where our young Baron lay.\nIt was on my mind to run my knife into him after he had told me every\nthing, but then, bethinking how the young Baron hated the thought of\nbloodshed, I said to myself, 'No, Hans, I will spare the villain's\nlife.' See now what comes of being merciful; here, by hook or by crook,\nthe fellow has loosed himself from his bonds, and brings the whole\ncastle about our ears like a nest of wasps.\"\n\n\"We must fly,\" said the Baron; \"for nothing else in the world is\nleft me, now that all have deserted me in this black time of trouble,\nexcepting these six faithful ones.\"\n\nHis voice was bitter, bitter, as he spoke; then stooping, he raised Otto\nin his arms, and bearing him gently, began rapidly descending the rocky\nslope to the level road that ran along the edge of the hill beneath.\nClose behind him followed the rest; Hans still grimed with soot and in\nhis bare feet. A little distance from the road and under the shade of\nthe forest trees, seven horses stood waiting. The Baron mounted upon\nhis great black charger, seating little Otto upon the saddle in front of\nhim. \"Forward!\" he cried, and away they clattered and out upon the road.\nThen--\"To St. Michaelsburg,\" said Baron Conrad, in his deep voice, and\nthe horses' heads were turned to the westward, and away they galloped\nthrough the black shadows of the forest, leaving Trutz-Drachen behind\nthem.\n\nBut still the sound of the alarm bell rang through the beating of the\nhorses' hoofs, and as Hans looked over his shoulder, he saw the light\nof torches flashing hither and thither along the outer walls in front of\nthe great barbican.\n\nIn Castle Trutz-Drachen all was confusion and uproar: flashing torches\nlit up the dull gray walls; horses neighed and stamped, and men shouted\nand called to one another in the bustle of making ready. Presently Baron\nHenry came striding along the corridor clad in light armor, which he had\nhastily donned when roused from his sleep by the news that his prisoner\nhad escaped. Below in the courtyard his horse was standing, and without\nwaiting for assistance, he swung himself into the saddle. Then away they\nall rode and down the steep path, armor ringing, swords clanking, and\niron-shod hoofs striking sparks of fire from the hard stones. At their\nhead rode Baron Henry; his triangular shield hung over his shoulder, and\nin his hand he bore a long, heavy, steel-pointed lance with a pennant\nflickering darkly from the end.\n\nAt the high-road at the base of the slope they paused, for they were at\na loss to know which direction the fugitives had taken; a half a score\nof the retainers leaped from their horses, and began hurrying about\nhither and thither, and up and down, like hounds searching for the lost\nscent, and all the time Baron Henry sat still as a rock in the midst of\nthe confusion.\n\nSuddenly a shout was raised from the forest just beyond the road; they\nhad come upon the place where the horses had been tied. It was an easy\nmatter to trace the way that Baron Conrad and his followers had taken\nthence back to the high-road, but there again they were at a loss. The\nroad ran straight as an arrow eastward and westward--had the fugitives\ntaken their way to the east or to the west?\n\nBaron Henry called his head-man, Nicholas Stein, to him, and the\ntwo spoke together for a while in an undertone. At last the Baron's\nlieutenant reined his horse back, and choosing first one and then\nanother, divided the company into two parties. The baron placed himself\nat the head of one band and Nicholas Stein at the head of the other.\n\"Forward!\" he cried, and away clattered the two companies of horsemen in\nopposite directions.\n\nIt was toward the westward that Baron Henry of Trutz-Drachen rode at the\nhead of his men.\n\nThe early springtide sun shot its rays of misty, yellow light across the\nrolling tops of the forest trees where the little birds were singing in\nthe glory of the May morning. But Baron Henry and his followers thought\nnothing of the beauty of the peaceful day, and heard nothing of the\nmultitudinous sound of the singing birds as, with a confused sound of\ngalloping hoofs, they swept along the highway, leaving behind them a\nslow-curling, low-trailing cloud of dust.\n\nAs the sun rose more full and warm, the misty wreaths began to dissolve,\nuntil at last they parted and rolled asunder like a white curtain and\nthere, before the pursuing horsemen, lay the crest of the mountain\ntoward which they were riding, and up which the road wound steeply.\n\n\"Yonder they are,\" cried a sudden voice behind Baron Henry of\nTrutz-Drachen, and at the cry all looked upward.\n\nFar away upon the mountain-side curled a cloud of dust, from the midst\nof which came the star-like flash of burnished armor gleaming in the\nsun.\n\nBaron Henry said never a word, but his lips curled in a grim smile.\n\nAnd as the mist wreaths parted One-eyed Hans looked behind and down\ninto the leafy valley beneath. \"Yonder they come,\" said he. \"They have\nfollowed sharply to gain so much upon us, even though our horses are\nwearied with all the travelling we have done hither and yon these five\ndays past. How far is it, Lord Baron, from here to Michaelsburg?\"\n\n\"About ten leagues,\" said the Baron, in a gloomy voice.\n\nHans puckered his mouth as though to whistle, but the Baron saw nothing\nof it, for he was gazing straight before him with a set and stony face.\nThose who followed him looked at one another, and the same thought was\nin the mind of each--how long would it be before those who pursued would\nclose the distance between them?\n\nWhen that happened it meant death to one and all.\n\nThey reached the crest of the hill, and down they dashed upon the other\nside; for there the road was smooth and level as it sloped away into the\nvalley, but it was in dead silence that they rode. Now and then those\nwho followed the Baron looked back over their shoulders. They had gained\na mile upon their pursuers when the helmeted heads rose above the crest\nof the mountain, but what was the gain of a mile with a smooth road\nbetween them, and fresh horses to weary ones?\n\nOn they rode and on they rode. The sun rose higher and higher, and\nhotter and hotter. There was no time to rest and water their panting\nhorses. Only once, when they crossed a shallow stretch of water, the\npoor animals bent their heads and caught a few gulps from the cool\nstream, and the One-eyed Hans washed a part of the soot from his hands\nand face. On and on they rode; never once did the Baron Conrad move his\nhead or alter that steadfast look as, gazing straight before him, he\nrode steadily forward along the endless stretch of road, with poor\nlittle Otto's yellow head and white face resting against his steel-clad\nshoulder--and St. Michaelsburg still eight leagues away.\n\nA little rise of ground lay before them, and as they climbed it, all,\nexcepting the baron, turned their heads as with one accord and looked\nbehind them. Then more than one heart failed, for through the leaves\nof the trees below, they caught the glint of armor of those who\nfollowed--not more than a mile away. The next moment they swept over the\ncrest, and there, below them, lay the broad shining river, and nearer a\ntributary stream spanned by a rude, narrow, three-arched, stone bridge\nwhere the road crossed the deep, slow-moving water.\n\nDown the slope plodded the weary horses, and so to the bridge-head.\n\n\"Halt,\" cried the baron suddenly, and drew rein.\n\nThe others stood bewildered. What did he mean to do? He turned to Hans\nand his blue eyes shone like steel.\n\n\"Hans,\" said he, in his deep voice, \"thou hast served me long and truly;\nwilt thou for this one last time do my bidding?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said Hans, briefly.\n\n\"Swear it,\" said the Baron.\n\n\"I swear it,\" said Hans, and he drew the sign of the cross upon his\nheart.\n\n\"That is good,\" said the Baron, grimly. \"Then take thou this child,\nand with the others ride with all the speed that thou canst to St.\nMichaelsburg. Give the child into the charge of the Abbot Otto. Tell\nhim how that I have sworn fealty to the Emperor, and what I have gained\nthereby--my castle burnt, my people slain, and this poor, simple child,\nmy only son, mutilated by my enemy.\n\n\"And thou, my Lord Baron?\" said Hans.\n\n\"I will stay here,\" said the Baron, quietly, \"and keep back those who\nfollow as long as God will give me grace so to do.\"\n\nA murmur of remonstrance rose among the faithful few who were with\nhim, two of whom were near of kin. But Conrad of Drachenhausen turned\nfiercely upon them.\n\n\"How now,\" said he, \"have I fallen so low in my troubles that even ye\ndare to raise your voices against me? By the good Heaven, I will begin\nmy work here by slaying the first man who dares to raise word against\nmy bidding.\" Then he turned from them. \"Here, Hans,\" said he, \"take the\nboy; and remember, knave, what thou hast sworn.\"\n\nHe pressed Otto close to his breast in one last embrace. \"My little\nchild,\" he murmured, \"try not to hate thy father when thou thinkest of\nhim hereafter, even though he be hard and bloody as thou knowest.\"\n\nBut with his suffering and weakness, little Otto knew nothing of what\nwas passing; it was only as in a faint flickering dream that he lived in\nwhat was done around him.\n\n\"Farewell, Otto,\" said the Baron, but Otto's lips only moved faintly in\nanswer. His father kissed him upon either cheek. \"Come, Hans,\" said\nhe, hastily, \"take him hence;\" and he loosed Otto's arms from about his\nneck.\n\nHans took Otto upon the saddle in front of him.\n\n\"Oh! my dear Lord Baron,\" said he, and then stopped with a gulp, and\nturned his grotesquely twitching face aside.\n\n\"Go,\" said the Baron, harshly, \"there is no time to lose in woman's\ntears.\"\n\n\"Farewell, Conrad! farewell, Conrad!\" said his two kinsmen, and coming\nforward they kissed him upon the cheek then they turned and rode away\nafter Hans, and Baron Conrad was left alone to face his mortal foe.\n\n\n\n\nXIII. How Baron Conrad Held the Bridge.\n\nAs the last of his followers swept around the curving road and was lost\nto sight, Baron Conrad gave himself a shake, as though to drive away the\nthoughts that lay upon him. Then he rode slowly forward to the middle of\nthe bridge, where he wheeled his horse so as to face his coming enemies.\nHe lowered the vizor of his helmet and bolted it to its place, and then\nsaw that sword and dagger were loose in the scabbard and easy to draw\nwhen the need for drawing should arise.\n\n\nDown the steep path from the hill above swept the pursuing horsemen.\nDown the steep path to the bridge-head and there drew rein; for in the\nmiddle of the narrow way sat the motionless, steel-clad figure upon the\ngreat war-horse, with wide, red, panting nostrils, and body streaked\nwith sweat and flecked with patches of foam.\n\nOne side of the roadway of the bridge was guarded by a low stone wall;\nthe other side was naked and open and bare to the deep, slow-moving\nwater beneath. It was a dangerous place to attack a desperate man clad\nin armor of proof.\n\n\"Forward!\" cried Baron Henry, but not a soul stirred in answer, and\nstill the iron-clad figure sat motionless and erect upon the panting\nhorse.\n\n\"How,\" cried the Baron Henry, \"are ye afraid of one man? Then follow\nme!\" and he spurred forward to the bridge-head. But still no one moved\nin answer, and the Lord of Trutz-Drachen reined back his horse again.\nHe wheeled his horse and glared round upon the stolid faces of his\nfollowers, until his eyes seemed fairly to blaze with passion beneath\nthe bars of his vizor.\n\nBaron Conrad gave a roar of laughter. \"How now,\" he cried; \"are ye all\nafraid of one man? Is there none among ye that dares come forward and\nmeet me? I know thee, Baron Henry thou art not afraid to cut off the\nhand of a little child. Hast thou not now the courage to face the\nfather?\"\n\nBaron Henry gnashed his teeth with rage as he glared around upon the\nfaces of his men-at-arms. Suddenly his eye lit upon one of them. \"Ha!\nCarl Spigler,\" he cried, \"thou hast thy cross-bow with thee;--shoot me\ndown yonder dog! Nay,\" he said, \"thou canst do him no harm under his\narmor; shoot the horse upon which he sits.\"\n\nBaron Conrad heard the speech. \"Oh! thou coward villain!\" he cried,\n\"stay; do not shoot the good horse. I will dismount and fight ye upon\nfoot.\" Thereupon, armed as he was, he leaped clashing from his horse and\nturning the animal's head, gave it a slap upon the flank. The good horse\nfirst trotted and then walked to the further end of the bridge, where it\nstopped and began cropping at the grass that grew beside the road.\n\n\"Now then!\" cried Baron Henry, fiercely, \"now then, ye cannot fear him,\nvillains! Down with him! forward!\"\n\nSlowly the troopers spurred their horses forward upon the bridge and\ntoward that one figure that, grasping tightly the great two-handed\nsword, stood there alone guarding the passage.\n\nThen Baron Conrad whirled the great blade above his head, until it\ncaught the sunlight and flashed again. He did not wait for the attack,\nbut when the first of the advancing horsemen had come within a few feet\nof him, he leaped with a shout upon them. The fellow thrust at him with\nhis lance, and the Baron went staggering a few feet back, but instantly\nhe recovered himself and again leaped forward. The great sword flashed\nin the air, whistling; it fell, and the nearest man dropped his lance,\nclattering, and with a loud, inarticulate cry, grasped the mane of his\nhorse with both hands. Again the blade whistled in the air, and this\ntime it was stained with red. Again it fell, and with another shrill cry\nthe man toppled headlong beneath the horse's feet. The next instant they\nwere upon him, each striving to strike at the one figure, to ride him\ndown, or to thrust him down with their lances. There was no room now to\nswing the long blade, but holding the hilt in both hands, Baron Conrad\nthrust with it as though it were a lance, stabbing at horse or man, it\nmattered not. Crowded upon the narrow roadway of the bridge, those who\nattacked had not only to guard themselves against the dreadful strokes\nof that terrible sword, but to keep their wounded horses (rearing and\nmad with fright) from toppling bodily over with them into the water\nbeneath.\n\nPresently the cry was raised, \"Back! back!\" And those nearest the Baron\nbegan reining in their horses. \"Forward!\" roared Baron Henry, from the\nmidst of the crowd; but in spite of his command, and even the blows that\nhe gave, those behind were borne back by those in front, struggling and\nshouting, and the bridge was cleared again excepting for three figures\nthat lay motionless upon the roadway, and that one who, with the\nbrightness of his armor dimmed and stained, leaned panting against the\nwall of the bridge.\n\nThe Baron Henry raged like a madman. Gnashing his teeth together, he\nrode back a little way; then turning and couching his lance, he suddenly\nclapped spurs to his horse, and the next instant came thundering down\nupon his solitary enemy.\n\nBaron Conrad whirled his sword in the air, as he saw the other coming\nlike a thunderbolt upon him; he leaped aside, and the lance passed close\nto him. As it passed he struck, and the iron point flew from the shaft\nof the spear at the blow, and fell clattering upon the stone roadway of\nthe bridge.\n\nBaron Henry drew in his horse until it rested upon its haunches, then\nslowly reined it backward down the bridge, still facing his foe,\nand still holding the wooden stump of the lance in his hand. At the\nbridge-head he flung it from him.\n\n\"Another lance!\" he cried, hoarsely. One was silently reached to him\nand he took it, his hand trembling with rage. Again he rode to a little\ndistance and wheeled his horse; then, driving his steel spurs into its\nquivering side, he came again thundering down upon the other. Once more\nthe terrible sword whirled in the air and fell, but this time the lance\nwas snatched to one side and the blow fell harmlessly. The next instant,\nand with a twitch of the bridle-rein, the horse struck full and fair\nagainst the man.\n\nConrad of Drachenhausen was whirled backward and downward, and the cruel\niron hoofs crashed over his prostrate body, as horse and man passed with\na rush beyond him and to the bridge-head beyond. A shout went up from\nthose who stood watching. The next moment the prostrate figure rose and\nstaggered blindly to the side of the bridge, and stood leaning against\nthe stone wall.\n\nAt the further end of the bridge Baron Henry had wheeled his horse. Once\nagain he couched lance, and again he drove down upon his bruised and\nwounded enemy. This time the lance struck full and fair, and those who\nwatched saw the steel point pierce the iron breast-plate and then snap\nshort, leaving the barbed point within the wound.\n\nBaron Conrad sunk to his knees and the Roderburg, looming upon his horse\nabove him, unsheathed his sword to finish the work he had begun.\n\nThen those who stood looking on saw a wondrous thing happen: the wounded\nman rose suddenly to his feet, and before his enemy could strike he\nleaped, with a great and bitter cry of agony and despair, upon him as he\nsat in the saddle above.\n\nHenry of Trutz-Drachen grasped at his horse's mane, but the attack\nwas so fierce, so sudden, and so unexpected that before he could save\nhimself he was dragged to one side and fell crashing in his armor upon\nthe stone roadway of the bridge.\n\n\"The dragon! the dragon!\" roared Baron Conrad, in a voice of thunder,\nand with the energy of despair he dragged his prostrate foe toward the\nopen side of the bridge.\n\n\"Forward!\" cried the chief of the Trutz-Drachen men, and down they rode\nupon the struggling knights to the rescue of their master in this new\ndanger. But they were too late.\n\nThere was a pause at the edge of the bridge, for Baron Henry had gained\nhis feet and, stunned and bewildered as he was by the suddenness of his\nfall, he was now struggling fiercely, desperately. For a moment they\nstood swaying backward and forward, clasped in one another's arms, the\nblood from the wounded man's breast staining the armor of both. The\nmoment passed and then, with a shower of stones and mortar from beneath\ntheir iron-shod heels, they toppled and fell; there was a thunderous\nsplash in the water below, and as the men-at-arms came hurrying up and\npeered with awe-struck faces over the parapet of the bridge, they saw\nthe whirling eddies sweep down with the current of the stream, a few\nbubbles rise to the surface of the water, and then--nothing; for the\nsmooth river flowed onward as silently as ever.\n\nPresently a loud voice burst through the awed hush that followed. It\ncame from William of Roderburg, Baron Henry's kinsman.\n\n\"Forward!\" he cried. A murmur of voices from the others was all the\nanswer that he received. \"Forward!\" cried the young man again, \"the boy\nand those with him are not so far away but that we might yet catch up\nwith them.\"\n\nThen one of the men spoke up in answer--a man with a seamed,\nweather-beaten face and crisp grizzled hair. \"Nay,\" said he, \"our Lord\nBaron is gone, and this is no quarrel of ours; here be four of us that\nare wounded and three I misdoubt that are dead; why should we follow\nfurther only to suffer more blows for no gain?\" A growl of assent rose\nfrom those that stood around, and William of Roderburg saw that nothing\nmore was to be done by the Trutz-Dragons that day.\n\n\n\n\nXIV. How Otto Saw the Great Emperor.\n\nThrough weakness and sickness and faintness, Otto had lain in a half\nswoon through all that long journey under the hot May sun. It was as in\na dreadful nightmare that he had heard on and on and on that monotonous\nthrobbing of galloping hoofs upon the ground; had felt that last kiss\nthat his father had given him upon his cheek. Then the onward ride\nagain, until all faded away into a dull mist and he knew no more. When\nnext he woke it was with the pungent smell of burned vinegar in his\nnostrils and with the feeling of a cool napkin bathing his brow. He\nopened his eyes and then closed them again, thinking he must have been\nin a dream, for he lay in his old room at the peaceful monastery of the\nWhite Cross on the hill; the good Father Abbot sat near by, gazing upon\nhis face with the old absent student look, Brother John sat in the deep\nwindow seat also gazing at him, and Brother Theodore, the leech of the\nmonastery, sat beside him bathing his head. Beside these old familiar\nfaces were the faces of those who had been with him in that long flight;\nthe One-eyed Hans, old Master Nicholas his kinsman, and the others.\nSo he closed his eyes, thinking that maybe it was all a dream. But the\nsharp throbbing of the poor stump at his wrist soon taught him that he\nwas still awake.\n\n\"Am I then really home in St. Michaelsburg again?\" he murmured, without\nunclosing his eyes.\n\nBrother Theodore began snuffling through his nose; there was a pause.\n\"Yes,\" said the old Abbot at last, and his gentle voice trembled as\nhe spoke; \"yes, my dear little child, thou art back again in thine own\nhome; thou hast not been long out in the great world, but truly thou\nhast had a sharp and bitter trial of it.\"\n\n\"But they will not take me away again, will they?\" said Otto quickly,\nunclosing his blue eyes.\n\n\"Nay,\" said the Abbot, gently; \"not until thou art healed in body and\nart ready and willing to go.\"\n\nThree months and more had passed, and Otto was well again; and now,\nescorted by One-eyed Hans and those faithful few who had clung to the\nBaron Conrad through his last few bitter days, he was riding into the\nquaint old town of Nurnburg; for the Emperor Rudolph was there at that\ntime, waiting for King Ottocar of Bohemia to come thither and answer\nthe imperial summons before the Council, and Otto was travelling to the\ncourt.\n\nAs they rode in through the gates of the town, Otto looked up at the\nhigh-peaked houses with their overhanging gables, the like of which he\nhad never seen before, and he stared with his round blue eyes at seeing\nthem so crowded together along the length of the street. But most of\nall he wondered at the number of people that passed hither and thither,\njostling each other in their hurry, and at the tradesmen's booths\nopening upon the street with the wonderful wares hanging within; armor\nat the smiths, glittering ornaments at the goldsmiths, and rich fabrics\nof silks and satins at the mercers. He had never seen anything so rich\nand grand in all of his life, for little Otto had never been in a town\nbefore.\n\n\"Oh! look,\" he cried, \"at that wonderful lady; see, holy father! sure\nthe Emperor's wife can be no finer than that lady.\"\n\nThe Abbot smiled. \"Nay, Otto,\" said he, \"that is but a burgher's wife or\ndaughter; the ladies at the Emperor's court are far grander than such as\nshe.\"\n\n\"So!\" said Otto, and then fell silent with wonder.\n\nAnd now, at last the great moment had come when little Otto with his own\neyes was to behold the mighty Emperor who ruled over all the powerful\nkingdoms of Germany and Austria, and Italy and Bohemia, and other\nkingdoms and principalities and states. His heart beat so that he could\nhardly speak as, for a moment, the good Abbot who held him by the hand\nstopped outside of the arrased doorway to whisper some last instructions\ninto his ear. Then they entered the apartment.\n\nIt was a long, stone-paved room. The floor was covered with rich rugs\nand the walls were hung with woven tapestry wherein were depicted\nknights and ladies in leafy gardens and kings and warriors at battle.\nA long row of high glazed windows extended along the length of the\napartment, flooding it with the mellow light of the autumn day. At\nthe further end of the room, far away, and standing by a great carved\nchimney place wherein smouldered the remains of a fire, stood a group of\nnobles in gorgeous dress of velvet and silks, and with glittering golden\nchains hung about their necks.\n\nOne figure stood alone in front of the great yawning fireplace. His\nhands were clasped behind him, and his look bent thoughtfully upon the\nfloor. He was dressed only in a simple gray robe without ornament or\nadornment, a plain leathern belt girded his waist, and from it hung a\nsword with a bone hilt encased in a brown leathern scabbard. A noble\nstag-hound lay close behind him, curled up upon the floor, basking in\nthe grateful warmth of the fire.\n\nAs the Father Abbot and Otto drew near he raised his head and looked\nat them. It was a plain, homely face that Otto saw, with a wrinkled\nforehead and a long mouth drawn down at the corners. It was the face of\na good, honest burgher burdened with the cares of a prosperous trade.\n\"Who can he be,\" thought Otto, \"and why does the poor man stand there\namong all the great nobles?\"\n\nBut the Abbot walked straight up to him and kneeled upon the floor,\nand little Otto, full of wonder, did the same. It was the great Emperor\nRudolph.\n\n\"Who have we here,\" said the Emperor, and he bent his brow upon the\nAbbot and the boy.\n\n\"Sire,\" said Abbot Otto, \"we have humbly besought you by petition, in\nthe name of your late vassal, Baron Conrad of Vuelph of Drachenhausen,\nfor justice to this his son, the Baron Otto, whom, sire, as you may see,\nhath been cruelly mutilated at the hands of Baron Henry of Roderburg of\nTrutz-Drachen. He hath moreover been despoiled of his lands, his castle\nburnt, and his household made prisoner.\"\n\nThe Emperor frowned until the shaggy eyebrows nearly hid the keen gray\ntwinkle of the eyes beneath. \"Yes,\" said he, \"I do remember me of\nthat petition, and have given it consideration both in private and in\ncouncil.\" He turned to the group of listening nobles. \"Look,\" said he,\n\"at this little child marred by the inhumanity and the cruelty of those\nrobber villains. By heavens! I will put down their lawless rapine, if I\nhave to give every castle from the north to the south to the flames and\nto the sword.\" Then turning to Otto again, \"Poor little child,\" said he,\n\"thy wrongs shall be righted, and so far as they are able, those cruel\nRoderburgs shall pay thee penny for penny, and grain for grain, for what\nthou hast lost; and until such indemnity hath been paid the family of\nthe man who wrought this deed shall be held as surety.\"\n\nLittle Otto looked up in the kind, rugged face above him. \"Nay, Lord\nEmperor,\" said he, in his quaint, quiet way, \"there are but two in the\nfamily--the mother and the daughter--and I have promised to marry the\nlittle girl when she and I are old enough; so, if you please, I would\nnot have harm happen to her.\"\n\nThe Emperor continued to look down at the kneeling boy, and at last he\ngave a short, dry laugh. \"So be it,\" said he, \"thy plan is not without\nits wisdom. Mayhap it is all for the best that the affair should be\nended thus peacefully. The estates of the Roderburgs shall be held in\ntrust for thee until thou art come of age; otherwise it shall be as thou\nhast proposed, the little maiden shall be taken into ward under our own\ncare. And as to thee--art thou willing that I should take thee under my\nown charge in the room of thy father, who is dead?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said Otto, simply, \"I am willing, for it seems to me that thou\nart a good man.\"\n\nThe nobles who stood near smiled at the boy's speech. As for the\nEmperor, he laughed outright. \"I give thee thanks, my Lord Baron,\" said\nhe; \"there is no one in all my court who has paid me greater courtesy\nthan that.\"\n\nSo comes the end of our tale.\n\nBut perhaps you may like to know what happened afterward, for no one\ncares to leave the thread of a story without tying a knot in it.\n\nEight years had passed, and Otto grew up to manhood in the Emperor's\ncourt, and was with him through war and peace.\n\nBut he himself never drew sword or struck a blow, for the right hand\nthat hung at his side was of pure silver, and the hard, cold fingers\nnever closed. Folks called him \"Otto of the Silver Hand,\" but perhaps\nthere was another reason than that for the name that had been given him,\nfor the pure, simple wisdom that the old monks of the White Cross on\nthe hill had taught him, clung to him through all the honors that the\nEmperor bestowed upon his favorite, and as he grew older his words were\nlistened to and weighed by those who were high in Council, and even by\nthe Emperor himself.\n\nAnd now for the end of all.\n\nOne day Otto stood uncertainly at the doorway of a room in the imperial\ncastle, hesitating before he entered; and yet there was nothing so very\ndreadful within, only one poor girl whose heart fluttered more than his.\nPoor little Pauline, whom he had not seen since that last day in the\nblack cell at Trutz-Drachen.\n\nAt last he pushed aside the hangings and entered the room.\n\nShe was sitting upon a rude bench beside the window, looking at him out\nof her great, dark eyes.\n\nHe stopped short and stood for a moment confused and silent; for he had\nno thought in his mind but of the little girl whom he had last seen, and\nfor a moment he stood confused before the fair maiden with her great,\nbeautiful dark eyes.\n\nShe on her part beheld a tall, slender youth with curling, golden hair,\none hand white and delicate, the other of pure and shining silver.\n\nHe came to her and took her hand and set it to his lips, and all that\nshe could do was to gaze with her great, dark eyes upon the hero of whom\nshe had heard so many talk; the favorite of the Emperor; the wise young\nOtto of the Silver Hand.\n\n\n\n\nAfterword\n\nThe ruins of Drachenhausen were rebuilt, for the walls were as sound as\never, though empty and gaping to the sky; but it was no longer the den\nof a robber baron for beneath the scutcheon over the great gate was\ncarved a new motto of the Vuelphs; a motto which the Emperor Rudolph\nhimself had given:\n\n\"Manus argentea quam manus ferrea melior est.\"\n\n\n\n\n\nEnd of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Otto of the Silver Hand, by Howard Pyle\n\nNow, answer the question based on the story asconcisely as you can, using a single phrase if possible. Do not provide any explanation.\n\nQuestion: What are some important themes mentioned in this story?\n\nAnswer:"}
{"question_id": 140, "category": "longbench_narrativeqa", "reference": ["Because he fought in the first world war."], "prompt": "You are given a story, which can be either a novel or a movie script, and a question. Answer the question asconcisely as you can, using a single phrase if possible. Do not provide any explanation.\n\nStory: Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nARMAGEDDON--2419 A.D.\n\n_By Philip Francis Nowlan_\n\n\n    _Here, once more, is a real scientifiction story plus. It is a story\n    which will make the heart of many readers leap with joy._\n\n    _We have rarely printed a story in this magazine that for scientific\n    interest, as well as suspense, could hold its own with this\n    particular story. We prophesy that this story will become more\n    valuable as the years go by. It certainly holds a number of\n    interesting prophecies, of which no doubt, many will come true. For\n    wealth of science, it will be hard to beat for some time to come. It\n    is one of those rare stories that will bear reading and re-reading\n    many times._\n\n    _This story has impressed us so favorably, that we hope the author\n    may be induced to write a sequel to it soon._\n\n\n\n\nForeword\n\n\nElsewhere I have set down, for whatever interest they have in this, the\n25th Century, my personal recollections of the 20th Century.\n\nNow it occurs to me that my memoirs of the 25th Century may have an\nequal interest 500 years from now--particularly in view of that unique\nperspective from which I have seen the 25th Century, entering it as I\ndid, in one leap across a gap of 492 years.\n\nThis statement requires elucidation. There are still many in the world\nwho are not familiar with my unique experience. Five centuries from now\nthere may be many more, especially if civilization is fated to endure\nany worse convulsions than those which have occurred between 1975 A.D.\nand the present time.\n\nI should state therefore, that I, Anthony Rogers, am, so far as I know,\nthe only man alive whose normal span of eighty-one years of life has\nbeen spread over a period of 573 years. To be precise, I lived the first\ntwenty-nine years of my life between 1898 and 1927; the other fifty-two\nsince 2419. The gap between these two, a period of nearly five hundred\nyears, I spent in a state of suspended animation, free from the ravages\nof katabolic processes, and without any apparent effect on my physical\nor mental faculties.\n\nWhen I began my long sleep, man had just begun his real conquest of the\nair in a sudden series of transoceanic flights in airplanes driven by\ninternal combustion motors. He had barely begun to speculate on the\npossibilities of harnessing sub-atomic forces, and had made no further\npractical penetration into the field of ethereal pulsations than the\nprimitive radio and television of that day. The United States of America\nwas the most powerful nation in the world, its political, financial,\nindustrial and scientific influence being supreme; and in the arts also\nit was rapidly climbing into leadership.\n\nI awoke to find the America I knew a total wreck--to find Americans a\nhunted race in their own land, hiding in the dense forests that covered\nthe shattered and leveled ruins of their once magnificent cities,\ndesperately preserving, and struggling to develop in their secret\nretreats, the remnants of their culture and science--and the undying\nflame of their sturdy independence.\n\nWorld domination was in the hands of Mongolians and the center of world\npower lay in inland China, with Americans one of the few races of\nmankind unsubdued--and it must be admitted in fairness to the truth, not\nworth the trouble of subduing in the eyes of the Han Airlords who ruled\nNorth America as titular tributaries of the Most Magnificent.\n\nFor they needed not the forests in which the Americans lived, nor the\nresources of the vast territories these forests covered. With the\nperfection to which they had reduced the synthetic production of\nnecessities and luxuries, their remarkable development of scientific\nprocesses and mechanical accomplishment of work, they had no economic\nneed for the forests, and no economic desire for the enslaved labor of\nan unruly race.\n\nThey had all they needed for their magnificently luxurious and degraded\nscheme of civilization, within the walls of the fifteen cities of\nsparkling glass they had flung skyward on the sites of ancient American\ncenters, into the bowels of the earth underneath them, and with\nrelatively small surrounding areas of agriculture.\n\nComplete domination of the air rendered communication between these\ncenters a matter of ease and safety. Occasional destructive raids on the\nwaste lands were considered all that was necessary to keep the \"wild\"\nAmericans on the run within the shelter of their forests, and prevent\ntheir becoming a menace to the Han civilization.\n\nBut nearly three hundred years of easily maintained security, the last\ncentury of which had been nearly sterile in scientific, social and\neconomic progress, had softened and devitalized the Hans.\n\nIt had likewise developed, beneath the protecting foliage of the forest,\nthe growth of a vigorous new American civilization, remarkable in the\nmobility and flexibility of its organization, in its conquest of almost\ninsuperable obstacles, in the development and guarding of its industrial\nand scientific resources, all in anticipation of that \"Day of Hope\" to\nwhich it had been looking forward for generations, when it would be\nstrong enough to burst from the green chrysalis of the forests, soar\ninto the upper air lanes and destroy the yellow incubus.\n\nAt the time I awoke, the \"Day of Hope\" was almost at hand. I shall not\nattempt to set forth a detailed history of the Second War of\nIndependence, for that has been recorded already by better historians\nthan I am. Instead I shall confine myself largely to the part I was\nfortunate enough to play in this struggle and in the events leading up\nto it.\n\n[Illustration: Seen upon the ultroscope viewplate, the battle looked as\nthough it were being fought in daylight, perhaps on a cloudy day, while\nthe explosions of the rockets appeared as flashes of extra brilliance.]\n\nIt all resulted from my interest in radioactive gases. During the latter\npart of 1927 my company, the American Radioactive Gas Corporation, had\nbeen keeping me busy investigating reports of unusual phenomena observed\nin certain abandoned coal mines near the Wyoming Valley, in\nPennsylvania.\n\nWith two assistants and a complete equipment of scientific instruments,\nI began the exploration of a deserted working in a mountainous district,\nwhere several weeks before, a number of mining engineers had reported\ntraces of carnotite[1] and what they believed to be radioactive gases.\nTheir report was not without foundation, it was apparent from the\noutset, for in our examination of the upper levels of the mine, our\ninstruments indicated a vigorous radioactivity.\n\n    [1] A hydrovanadate of uranium, and other metals; used as a source\n    of radium compounds.\n\nOn the morning of December 15th, we descended to one of the lowest\nlevels. To our surprise, we found no water there. Obviously it had\ndrained off through some break in the strata. We noticed too that the\nrock in the side walls of the shaft was soft, evidently due to the\nradioactivity, and pieces crumbled under foot rather easily. We made our\nway cautiously down the shaft, when suddenly the rotted timbers above us\ngave way.\n\nI jumped ahead, barely escaping the avalanche of coal and soft rock, but\nmy companions, who were several paces behind me, were buried under it,\nand undoubtedly met instant death.\n\nI was trapped. Return was impossible. With my electric torch I explored\nthe shaft to its end, but could find no other way out. The air became\nincreasingly difficult to breathe, probably from the rapid accumulation\nof the radioactive gas. In a little while my senses reeled and I lost\nconsciousness.\n\nWhen I awoke, there was a cool and refreshing circulation of air in the\nshaft. I had no thought that I had been unconscious more than a few\nhours, although it seems that the radioactive gas had kept me in a state\nof suspended animation for something like 500 years. My awakening, I\nfigured out later, had been due to some shifting of the strata which\nreopened the shaft and cleared the atmosphere in the working. This must\nhave been the case, for I was able to struggle back up the shaft over a\npile of debris, and stagger up the long incline to the mouth of the\nmine, where an entirely different world, overgrown with a vast forest\nand no visible sign of human habitation, met my eyes.\n\nI shall pass over the days of mental agony that followed in my attempt\nto grasp the meaning of it all. There were times when I felt that I was\non the verge of insanity. I roamed the unfamiliar forest like a lost\nsoul. Had it not been for the necessity of improvising traps and crude\nclubs with which to slay my food, I believe I should have gone mad.\n\nSuffice it to say, however, that I survived this psychic crisis. I shall\nbegin my narrative proper with my first contact with Americans of the\nyear 2419 A.D.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nFloating Men\n\n\nMy first glimpse of a human being of the 25th Century was obtained\nthrough a portion of woodland where the trees were thinly scattered,\nwith a dense forest beyond.\n\nI had been wandering along aimlessly, and hopelessly, musing over my\nstrange fate, when I noticed a figure that cautiously backed out of the\ndense growth across the glade. I was about to call out joyfully, but\nthere was something furtive about the figure that prevented me. The\nboy's attention (for it seemed to be a lad of fifteen or sixteen) was\ncentered tensely on the heavy growth of trees from which he had just\nemerged.\n\nHe was clad in rather tight-fitting garments entirely of green, and wore\na helmet-like cap of the same color. High around his waist he wore a\nbroad, thick belt, which bulked up in the back across the shoulders,\ninto something of the proportions of a knapsack.\n\nAs I was taking in these details, there came a vivid flash and heavy\ndetonation, like that of a hand grenade, not far to the left of him. He\nthrew up an arm and staggered a bit in a queer, gliding way; then he\nrecovered himself and slipped cautiously away from the place of the\nexplosion, crouching slightly, and still facing the denser part of the\nforest. Every few steps he would raise his arm, and point into the\nforest with something he held in his hand. Wherever he pointed there was\na terrific explosion, deeper in among the trees. It came to me then that\nhe was shooting with some form of pistol, though there was neither flash\nnor detonation from the muzzle of the weapon itself.\n\nAfter firing several times, he seemed to come to a sudden resolution,\nand turning in my general direction, leaped--to my amazement sailing\nthrough the air between the sparsely scattered trees in such a jump as I\nhad never in my life seen before. That leap must have carried him a full\nfifty feet, although at the height of his arc, he was not more than ten\nor twelve feet from the ground.\n\nWhen he alighted, his foot caught in a projecting root, and he sprawled\ngently forward. I say \"gently\" for he did not crash down as I expected\nhim to do. The only thing I could compare it with was a slow-motion\ncinema, although I had never seen one in which horizontal motions were\nregistered at normal speed and only the vertical movements were slowed\ndown.\n\nDue to my surprise, I suppose my brain did not function with its normal\nquickness, for I gazed at the prone figure for several seconds before I\nsaw the blood that oozed out from under the tight green cap. Regaining\nmy power of action, I dragged him out of sight back of the big tree. For\na few moments I busied myself in an attempt to staunch the flow of\nblood. The wound was not a deep one. My companion was more dazed than\nhurt. But what of the pursuers?\n\nI took the weapon from his grasp and examined it hurriedly. It was not\nunlike the automatic pistol to which I was accustomed, except that it\napparently fired with a button instead of a trigger. I inserted several\nfresh rounds of ammunition into its magazine from my companion's belt,\nas rapidly as I could, for I soon heard, near us, the suppressed\nconversation of his pursuers.\n\nThere followed a series of explosions round about us, but none very\nclose. They evidently had not spotted our hiding place, and were firing\nat random.\n\nI waited tensely, balancing the gun in my hand, to accustom myself to\nits weight and probable throw.\n\nThen I saw a movement in the green foliage of a tree not far away, and\nthe head and face of a man appeared. Like my companion, he was clad\nentirely in green, which made his figure difficult to distinguish. But\nhis face could be seen clearly. It was an evil face, and had murder in\nit.\n\nThat decided me. I raised the gun and fired. My aim was bad, for there\nwas no kick in the gun, as I had expected, and I hit the trunk of the\ntree several feet below him. It blew him from his perch like a crumpled\nbit of paper, and he _floated_ down to the ground, like some limp, dead\nthing, gently lowered by an invisible hand. The tree, its trunk blown\napart by the explosion, crashed down.\n\nThere followed another series of explosions around us. These guns we\nwere using made no sound in the firing, and my opponents were evidently\nas much at sea as to my position as I was to theirs. So I made no\nattempt to reply to their fire, contenting myself with keeping a sharp\nlookout in their general direction. And patience had its reward.\n\nVery soon I saw a cautious movement in the top of another tree. Exposing\nmyself as little as possible, I aimed carefully at the tree trunk and\nfired again. A shriek followed the explosion. I heard the tree crash\ndown; then a groan.\n\nThere was silence for a while. Then I heard a faint sound of boughs\nswishing. I shot three times in its direction, pressing the button as\nrapidly as I could. Branches crashed down where my shells had exploded,\nbut there was no body.\n\nThen I saw one of them. He was starting one of those amazing leaps from\nthe bough of one tree to another, about forty feet away.\n\nI threw up my gun impulsively and fired. By now I had gotten the feel of\nthe weapon, and my aim was good. I hit him. The \"bullet\" must have\npenetrated his body and exploded. For one moment I saw him flying\nthrough the air. Then the explosion, and he had vanished. He never\nfinished his leap. It was annihilation.\n\nHow many more of them there were I don't know. But this must have been\ntoo much for them. They used a final round of shells on us, all of which\nexploded harmlessly, and shortly after I heard them swishing and\ncrashing away from us through the tree tops. Not one of them descended\nto earth.\n\nNow I had time to give some attention to my companion. She was, I found,\na girl, and not a boy. Despite her bulky appearance, due to the peculiar\nbelt strapped around her body high up under the arms, she was very\nslender, and very pretty.\n\nThere was a stream not far away, from which I brought water and bathed\nher face and wound.\n\nApparently the mystery of these long leaps, the monkey-like ability to\njump from bough to bough, and of the bodies that floated gently down\ninstead of falling, lay in the belt. The thing was some sort of\nanti-gravity belt that almost balanced the weight of the wearer, thereby\ntremendously multiplying the propulsive power of the leg muscles, and\nthe lifting power of the arms.\n\nWhen the girl came to, she regarded me as curiously as I did her, and\npromptly began to quiz me. Her accent and intonation puzzled me a lot,\nbut nevertheless we were able to understand each other fairly well,\nexcept for certain words and phrases. I explained what had happened\nwhile she lay unconscious, and she thanked me simply for saving her\nlife.\n\n\"You are a strange exchange,\" she said, eying my clothing quizzically.\nEvidently she found it mirth provoking by contrast with her own neatly\nefficient garb. \"Don't you understand what I mean by 'exchange?' I mean\nah--let me see--a stranger, somebody from some other gang. What gang do\nyou belong to?\" (She pronounced it \"gan,\" with only a suspicion of a\nnasal sound.)\n\nI laughed. \"I'm not a gangster,\" I said. But she evidently did not\nunderstand this word. \"I don't belong to any gang,\" I explained, \"and\nnever did. Does everybody belong to a gang nowadays?\"\n\n\"Naturally,\" she said, frowning. \"If you don't belong to a gang, where\nand how do you live? Why have you not found and joined a gang? How do\nyou eat? Where do you get your clothing?\"\n\n\"I've been eating wild game for the past two weeks,\" I explained, \"and\nthis clothing I--er--ah--.\" I paused, wondering how I could explain that\nit must be many hundred years old.\n\nIn the end I saw I would have to tell my story as well as I could,\npiecing it together with my assumptions as to what had happened. She\nlistened patiently; incredulously at first, but with more confidence as\nI went on. When I had finished, she sat thinking for a long time.\n\n\"That's hard to believe,\" she said, \"but I believe it.\" She looked me\nover with frank interest.\n\n\"Were you married when you slipped into unconsciousness down in that\nmine?\" she asked me suddenly. I assured her I had never married. \"Well,\nthat simplifies matters,\" she continued. \"You see, if you were\ntechnically classed as a family man, I could take you back only as an\ninvited exchange and I, being unmarried, and no relation of yours,\ncouldn't do the inviting.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nThe Forest Gangs\n\n\nShe gave me a brief outline of the very peculiar social and economic\nsystem under which her people lived. At least it seemed very peculiar\nfrom my 20th Century viewpoint.\n\nI learned with amazement that exactly 492 years had passed over my head\nas I lay unconscious in the mine.\n\nWilma, for that was her name, did not profess to be a historian, and so\ncould give me only a sketchy outline of the wars that had been fought,\nand the manner in which such radical changes had come about. It seemed\nthat another war had followed the First World War, in which nearly all\nthe European nations had banded together to break the financial and\nindustrial power of America. They succeeded in their purpose, though\nthey were beaten, for the war was a terrific one, and left America, like\nthemselves, gasping, bleeding and disorganized, with only the hollow\nshell of a victory.\n\nThis opportunity had been seized by the Russian Soviets, who had made a\ncoalition with the Chinese, to sweep over all Europe and reduce it to a\nstate of chaos.\n\nAmerica, industrially geared to world production and the world trade,\ncollapsed economically, and there ensued a long period of stagnation and\ndesperate attempts at economic reconstruction. But it was impossible to\nstave off war with the Mongolians, who by now had subjugated the\nRussians, and were aiming at a world empire.\n\nIn about 2109, it seems, the conflict was finally precipitated. The\nMongolians, with overwhelming fleets of great airships, and a science\nthat far outstripped that of crippled America, swept in over the Pacific\nand Atlantic Coasts, and down from Canada, annihilating American\naircraft, armies and cities with their terrific _disintegrator_ rays.\nThese rays were projected from a machine not unlike a searchlight in\nappearance, the reflector of which, however, was not material substance,\nbut a complicated balance of interacting electronic forces. This\nresulted in a terribly destructive beam. Under its influence, material\nsubstance melted into \"nothingness\"; i. e., into electronic vibrations.\nIt destroyed all then known substances, from air to the most dense\nmetals and stone.\n\nThey settled down to the establishment of what became known as the Han\ndynasty in America, as a sort of province in their World Empire.\n\nThose were terrible days for the Americans. They were hunted like wild\nbeasts. Only those survived who finally found refuge in mountains,\ncanyons and forests. Government was at an end among them. Anarchy\nprevailed for several generations. Most would have been eager to submit\nto the Hans, even if it meant slavery. But the Hans did not want them,\nfor they themselves had marvelous machinery and scientific process by\nwhich all difficult labor was accomplished.\n\nUltimately they stopped their active search for, and annihilation of,\nthe widely scattered groups of now savage Americans. So long as they\nremained hidden in their forests, and did not venture near the great\ncities the Hans had built, little attention was paid to them.\n\nThen began the building of the new American civilization. Families and\nindividuals gathered together in clans or \"gangs\" for mutual protection.\nFor nearly a century they lived a nomadic and primitive life, moving\nfrom place to place, in desperate fear of the casual and occasional Han\nair raids, and the terrible disintegrator ray. As the frequency of these\nraids decreased, they began to stay permanently in given localities,\norganizing upon lines which in many respects were similar to those of\nthe military households of the Norman feudal barons, except that instead\nof gathering together in castles, their defense tactics necessitated a\ncertain scattering of living quarters for families and individuals. They\nlived virtually in the open air, in the forests, in green tents,\nresorting to camouflage tactics that would conceal their presence from\nair observers. They dug underground factories and laboratories, that\nthey might better be shielded from the electrical detectors of the\nHans. They tapped the radio communication lines of the Hans, with crude\ninstruments at first; better ones later on. They bent every effort\ntoward the redevelopment of science. For many generations they labored\nas unseen, unknown scholars of the Hans, picking up their knowledge\npiecemeal, as fast as they were able to.\n\nDuring the earlier part of this period, there were many deadly wars\nfought between the various gangs, and occasional courageous but\nchildishly futile attacks upon the Hans, followed by terribly punitive\nraids.\n\nBut as knowledge progressed, the sense of American brotherhood\nredeveloped. Reciprocal arrangements were made among the gangs over\nconstantly increasing areas. Trade developed to a certain extent, as\nbetween one gang and another. But the interchange of knowledge became\nmore important than that of goods, as skill in the handling of synthetic\nprocesses developed.\n\nWithin the gang, an economy was developed that was a compromise between\nindividual liberty and a military socialism. The right of private\nproperty was limited practically to personal possessions, but private\nprivileges were many, and sacredly regarded. Stimulation to achievement\nlay chiefly in the winning of various kinds of leadership and\nprerogatives, and only in a very limited degree in the hope of owning\nanything that might be classified as \"wealth,\" and nothing that might be\nclassified as \"resources.\" Resources of every description, for military\nsafety and efficiency, belonged as a matter of public interest to the\ncommunity as a whole.\n\nIn the meantime, through these many generations, the Hans had developed\na luxury economy, and with it the perfection of gilded vice and\ndegradation. The Americans were regarded as \"wild men of the woods.\" And\nsince they neither needed nor wanted the woods or the wild men, they\ntreated them as beasts, and were conscious of no human brotherhood with\nthem. As time went on, and synthetic processes of producing foods and\nmaterials were further developed, less and less ground was needed by the\nHans for the purposes of agriculture, and finally, even the working of\nmines was abandoned when it became cheaper to build up metal from\nelectronic vibrations than to dig them out of the ground.\n\nThe Han race, devitalized by its vices and luxuries, with machinery and\nscientific processes to satisfy its every want, with virtually no\nnecessity of labor, began to assume a defensive attitude toward the\nAmericans.\n\nAnd quite naturally, the Americans regarded the Hans with a deep, grim\nhatred. Conscious of individual superiority as men, knowing that\nlatterly they were outstripping the Hans in science and civilization,\nthey longed desperately for the day when they should be powerful enough\nto rise and annihilate the Yellow Blight that lay over the continent.\n\nAt the time of my awakening, the gangs were rather loosely organized,\nbut were considering the establishment of a special military force,\nwhose special business it would be to harry the Hans and bring down\ntheir air ships whenever possible without causing general alarm among\nthe Mongolians. This force was destined to become the nucleus of the\nnational force, when the Day of Retribution arrived. But that, however,\ndid not happen for ten years, and is another story.\n\n[Illustration: On the left of the illustration is a Han girl, and on the\nright is an American girl, who, like all of her race, is equipped with\nan inertron belt and a rocket gun.]\n\nWilma told me she was a member of the Wyoming Gang, which claimed the\nentire Wyoming Valley as its territory, under the leadership of Boss\nHart. Her mother and father were dead, and she was unmarried, so she was\nnot a \"family member.\" She lived in a little group of tents known as\nCamp 17, under a woman Camp Boss, with seven other girls.\n\nHer duties alternated between military or police scouting and factory\nwork. For the two-week period which would end the next day, she had been\non \"air patrol.\" This did not mean, as I first imagined, that she was\nflying, but rather that she was on the lookout for Han ships over this\noutlying section of the Wyoming territory, and had spent most of her\ntime perched in the tree tops scanning the skies. Had she seen one she\nwould have fired a \"drop flare\" several miles off to one side, which\nwould ignite when it was floating vertically toward the earth, so that\nthe direction or point from which it had been fired might not be guessed\nby the airship and bring a blasting play of the disintegrator ray in her\nvicinity. Other members of the air patrol would send up rockets on\nseeing hers, until finally a scout equipped with an ultrophone, which,\nunlike the ancient radio, operated on the ultronic ethereal vibrations,\nwould pass the warning simultaneously to the headquarters of the Wyoming\nGang and other communities within a radius of several hundred miles, not\nto mention the few American rocket ships that might be in the air, and\nwhich instantly would duck to cover either through forest clearings or\nby flattening down to earth in green fields where their coloring would\nprobably protect them from observation. The favorite American method of\npropulsion was known as \"_rocketing_.\" The _rocket_ is what I would\ndescribe, from my 20th Century comprehension of the matter, as an\nextremely powerful gas blast, atomically produced through the\nstimulation of chemical action. Scientists of today regard it as a\nchildishly simple reaction, but by that very virtue, most economical and\nefficient.\n\nBut tomorrow, she explained, she would go back to work in the cloth\nplant, where she would take charge of one of the synthetic processes by\nwhich those wonderful substitutes for woven fabrics of wool, cotton and\nsilk are produced. At the end of another two weeks, she would be back on\nmilitary duty again, perhaps at the same work, or maybe as a \"contact\nguard,\" on duty where the territory of the Wyomings merged with that of\nthe Delawares, or the \"Susquannas\" (Susquehannas) or one of the half\ndozen other \"gangs\" in that section of the country which I knew as\nPennsylvania and New York States.\n\nWilma cleared up for me the mystery of those flying leaps which she and\nher assailants had made, and explained in the following manner, how the\ninertron belt balances weight:\n\n\"_Jumpers_\" were in common use at the time I \"awoke,\" though they were\ncostly, for at that time _inertron_ had not been produced in very great\nquantity. They were very useful in the forest. They were belts,\nstrapped high under the arms, containing an amount of inertron adjusted\nto the wearer's weight and purposes. In effect they made a man weigh as\nlittle as he desired; two pounds if he liked.\n\n\"_Floaters_\" are a later development of \"_jumpers_\"--rocket motors\nencased in _inertron_ blocks and strapped to the back in such a way that\nthe wearer floats, when drifting, facing slightly downward. With his\nmotor in operation, he moves like a diver, headforemost, controlling his\ndirection by twisting his body and by movements of his outstretched arms\nand hands. Ballast weights locked in the front of the belt adjust weight\nand lift. Some men prefer a few ounces of weight in floating, using a\nslight motor thrust to overcome this. Others prefer a buoyance balance\nof a few ounces. The inadvertent dropping of weight is not a serious\nmatter. The motor thrust always can be used to descend. But as an extra\nprecaution, in case the motor should fail, for any reason, there are\nbuilt into every belt a number of detachable sections, one or more of\nwhich can be discarded to balance off any loss in weight.\n\n\"But who were your assailants,\" I asked, \"and why were you attacked?\"\n\nHer assailants, she told me, were members of an outlaw gang, referred to\nas \"Bad Bloods,\" a group which for several generations had been under\nthe domination of conscienceless leaders who tried to advance the\ninterests of their clan by tactics which their neighbors had come to\nregard as unfair, and who in consequence had been virtually boycotted.\nTheir purpose had been to slay her near the Delaware frontier, making it\nappear that the crime had been committed by Delaware scouts and thus\nembroil the Delawares and Wyomings in acts of reprisal against each\nother, or at least cause suspicions.\n\nFortunately they had not succeeded in surprising her, and she had been\nsuccessful in dodging them for some two hours before the shooting began,\nat the moment when I arrived on the scene.\n\n\"But we must not stay here talking,\" Wilma concluded. \"I have to take\nyou in, and besides I must report this attack right away. I think we had\nbetter slip over to the other side of the mountain. Whoever is on that\npost will have a phone, and I can make a direct report. But you'll have\nto have a belt. Mine alone won't help much against our combined weights,\nand there's little to be gained by jumping heavy. It's almost as bad as\nwalking.\"\n\nAfter a little search, we found one of the men I had killed, who had\nfloated down among the trees some distance away and whose belt was not\nbadly damaged. In detaching it from his body, it nearly got away from me\nand shot up in the air. Wilma caught it, however, and though it\nreinforced the lift of her own belt so that she had to hook her knee\naround a branch to hold herself down, she saved it. I climbed the tree\nand, with my weight added to hers, we floated down easily.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nLife in the 25th Century\n\n\nWe were delayed in starting for quite a while since I had to acquire a\nfew crude ideas about the technique of using these belts. I had been\nsitting down, for instance, with the belt strapped about me, enjoying an\nease similar to that of a comfortable armchair; when I stood up with a\nnatural exertion of muscular effort, I shot ten feet into the air, with\na wild instinctive thrashing of arms and legs that amused Wilma greatly.\n\nBut after some practice, I began to get the trick of gauging muscular\neffort to a minimum of vertical and a maximum of horizontal. The correct\nform, I found, was in a measure comparable to that of skating. I found,\nalso, that in forest work particularly the arms and hands could be used\nto great advantage in swinging along from branch to branch, so\nprolonging leaps almost indefinitely at times.\n\nIn going up the side of the mountain, I found that my 20th Century\nmuscles did have an advantage, in spite of lack of skill with the belt,\nand since the slopes were very sharp, and most of our leaps were upward,\nI could have distanced Wilma easily. But when we crossed the ridge and\ndescended, she outstripped me with her superior technique. Choosing the\nsteepest slopes, she would crouch in the top of a tree, and propel\nherself outward, literally diving until, with the loss of horizontal\nmomentum, she would assume a more upright position and float downward.\nIn this manner she would sometimes cover as much as a quarter of a mile\nin a single leap, while I leaped and scrambled clumsily behind,\nthoroughly enjoying the novel sensation.\n\nHalf way down the mountain, we saw another green-clad figure leap out\nabove the tree tops toward us. The three of us perched on an outcropping\nof rock from which a view for many miles around could be had, while\nWilma hastily explained her adventure and my presence to her fellow\nguard; whose name was Alan. I learned later that this was the modern\nform of Helen.\n\n\"You want to report by phone then, don't you?\" Alan took a compact\npacket about six inches square from a holster attached to her belt and\nhanded it to Wilma.\n\nSo far as I could see, it had no special receiver for the ear. Wilma\nmerely threw back a lid, as though she were opening a book, and began to\ntalk. The voice that came back from the machine was as audible as her\nown.\n\nShe was queried closely as to the attack upon her, and at considerable\nlength as to myself, and I could tell from the tone of that voice that\nits owner was not prepared to take me at my face value as readily as\nWilma had. For that matter, neither was the other girl. I could realize\nit from the suspicious glances she threw my way, when she thought my\nattention was elsewhere, and the manner in which her hand hovered\nconstantly near her gun holster.\n\nWilma was ordered to bring me in at once, and informed that another\nscout would take her place on the other side of the mountain. So she\nclosed down the lid of the phone and handed it back to Alan, who seemed\nrelieved to see us departing over the tree tops in the direction of the\ncamps.\n\nWe had covered perhaps ten miles, in what still seemed to me a\nsurprisingly easy fashion, when Wilma explained, that from here on we\nwould have to keep to the ground. We were nearing the camps, she said,\nand there was always the possibility that some small Han scoutship,\ninvisible high in the sky, might catch sight of us through a\nprojectoscope and thus find the general location of the camps.\n\nWilma took me to the Scout office, which proved to be a small building\nof irregular shape, conforming to the trees around it, and substantially\nconstructed of green sheet-like material.\n\nI was received by the assistant Scout Boss, who reported my arrival at\nonce to the historical office, and to officials he called the Psycho\nBoss and the History Boss, who came in a few minutes later. The attitude\nof all three men was at first polite but skeptical, and Wilma's ardent\nadvocacy seemed to amuse them secretly.\n\nFor the next two hours I talked, explained and answered questions. I had\nto explain, in detail, the manner of my life in the 20th Century and my\nunderstanding of customs, habits, business, science and the history of\nthat period, and about developments in the centuries that had elapsed.\nHad I been in a classroom, I would have come through the examination\nwith a very poor mark, for I was unable to give any answer to fully half\nof their questions. But before long I realized that the majority of\nthese questions were designed as traps. Objects, of whose purpose I knew\nnothing, were casually handed to me, and I was watched keenly as I\nhandled them.\n\nIn the end I could see both amazement and belief begin to show in the\nfaces of my inquisitors, and at last the Historical and Psycho Bosses\nagreed openly that they could find no flaw in my story or reactions, and\nthat unbelievable as it seemed, my story must be accepted as genuine.\n\nThey took me at once to Big Boss Hart. He was a portly man with a \"poker\nface.\" He would probably have been the successful politician even in the\n20th Century.\n\nThey gave him a brief outline of my story and a report of their\nexamination of me. He made no comment other than to nod his acceptance\nof it. Then he turned to me.\n\n\"How does it feel?\" he asked. \"Do we look funny to you?\"\n\n\"A bit strange,\" I admitted. \"But I'm beginning to lose that dazed\nfeeling, though I can see I have an awful lot to learn.\"\n\n\"Maybe we can learn some things from you, too,\" he said. \"So you fought\nin the First World War. Do you know, we have very little left in the way\nof records of the details of that war, that is, the precise conditions\nunder which it was fought, and the tactics employed. We forgot many\nthings during the Han terror, and--well, I think you might have a lot of\nideas worth thinking over for our raid masters. By the way, now that\nyou're here, and can't go back to your own century, so to speak, what do\nyou want to do? You're welcome to become one of us. Or perhaps you'd\njust like to visit with us for a while, and then look around among the\nother gangs. Maybe you'd like some of the others better. Don't make up\nyour mind now. We'll put you down as an exchange for a while. Let's see.\nYou and Bill Hearn ought to get along well together. He's Camp Boss of\nNumber 34 when he isn't acting as Raid Boss or Scout Boss. There's a\nvacancy in his camp. Stay with him and think things over as long as you\nwant to. As soon as you make up your mind to anything, let me know.\"\n\nWe all shook hands, for that was one custom that had not died out in\nfive hundred years, and I set out with Bill Hearn.\n\nBill, like all the others, was clad in green. He was a big man. That is,\nhe was about my own height, five feet eleven. This was considerably\nabove the average now, for the race had lost something in stature, it\nseemed, through the vicissitudes of five centuries. Most of the women\nwere a bit below five feet, and the men only a trifle above this height.\n\nFor a period of two weeks Bill was to confine himself to camp duties, so\nI had a good chance to familiarize myself with the community life. It\nwas not easy. There were so many marvels to absorb. I never ceased to\nwonder at the strange combination of rustic social life and feverish\nindustrial activity. At least, it was strange to me. For in my\nexperience, industrial development meant crowded cities, tenements,\npaved streets, profusion of vehicles, noise, hurrying men and women with\nstrained or dull faces, vast structures and ornate public works.\n\nHere, however, was rustic simplicity, apparently isolated families and\ngroups, living in the heart of the forest, with a quarter of a mile or\nmore between households, a total absence of crowds, no means of\nconveyance other than the belts called jumpers, almost constantly worn\nby everybody, and an occasional rocket ship, used only for longer\njourneys, and underground plants or factories that were to my mind more\nlike laboratories and engine rooms; many of them were excavations as\ndeep as mines, with well finished, lighted and comfortable interiors.\nThese people were adepts at camouflage against air observation. Not only\nwould their activity have been unsuspected by an airship passing over\nthe center of the community, but even by an enemy who might happen to\ndrop through the screen of the upper branches to the floor of the\nforest. The camps, or household structures, were all irregular in shape\nand of colors that blended with the great trees among which they were\nhidden.\n\nThere were 724 dwellings or \"camps\" among the Wyomings, located within\nan area of about fifteen square miles. The total population was 8,688,\nevery man, woman and child, whether member or \"exchange,\" being listed.\n\nThe plants were widely scattered through the territory also. Nowhere was\nanything like congestion permitted. So far as possible, families and\nindividuals were assigned to living quarters, not too far from the\nplants or offices in which their work lay.\n\nAll able-bodied men and women alternated in two-week periods between\nmilitary and industrial service, except those who were needed for\nhousehold work. Since working conditions in the plants and offices were\nideal, and everybody thus had plenty of healthy outdoor activity in\naddition, the population was sturdy and active. Laziness was regarded as\nnearly the greatest of social offenses. Hard work and general merit were\nvariously rewarded with extra privileges, advancement to positions of\nauthority, and with various items of personal equipment for convenience\nand luxury.\n\nIn leisure moments, I got great enjoyment from sitting outside the\ndwelling in which I was quartered with Bill Hearn and ten other men,\nwatching the occasional passers-by, as with leisurely, but swift\nmovements, they swung up and down the forest trail, rising from the\nground in long almost-horizontal leaps, occasionally swinging from one\nconvenient branch overhead to another before \"sliding\" back to the\nground farther on. Normal traveling pace, where these trails were\nstraight enough, was about twenty miles an hour. Such things as\nautomobiles and railroad trains (the memory of them not more than a\nmonth old in my mind) seemed inexpressibly silly and futile compared\nwith such convenience as these belts or jumpers offered.\n\nBill suggested that I wander around for several days, from plant to\nplant, to observe and study what I could. The entire community had been\napprised of my coming, my rating as an \"exchange\" reaching every\nbuilding and post in the community, by means of ultronic broadcast.\nEverywhere I was welcomed in an interested and helpful spirit.\n\nI visited the plants where ultronic vibrations were isolated from the\nether and through slow processes built up into sub-electronic,\nelectronic and atomic forms into the two great synthetic elements,\nultron and inertron. I learned something, superficially at least, of the\nprocesses of combined chemical and mechanical action through which were\nproduced the various forms of synthetic cloth. I watched the manufacture\nof the machines which were used at locations of construction to produce\nthe various forms of building materials. But I was particularly\ninterested in the munitions plants and the rocket-ship shops.\n\nUltron is a solid of great molecular density and moderate elasticity,\nwhich has the property of being 100 percent conductive to those\npulsations known as light, electricity and heat. Since it is completely\npermeable to light vibrations, it is therefore _absolutely invisible and\nnon-reflective_. Its magnetic response is almost, but not quite, 100\npercent also. It is therefore very heavy under normal conditions but\nextremely responsive to the _repellor_ or anti-gravity rays, such as the\nHans use as \"_legs_\" for their airships.\n\nInertron is the second great triumph of American research and\nexperimentation with ultronic forces. It was developed just a few years\nbefore my awakening in the abandoned mine. It is a synthetic element,\nbuilt up, through a complicated heterodyning of ultronic pulsations,\nfrom \"infra-balanced\" sub-ionic forms. It is completely inert to both\nelectric and magnetic forces in all the orders above the _ultronic_;\nthat is to say, the _sub-electronic_, the _electronic_, the _atomic_ and\nthe _molecular_. In consequence it has a number of amazing and\nvaluable properties. One of these is _the total lack of weight_. Another\nis a total lack of heat. It has no molecular vibration whatever. It\nreflects 100 percent of the heat and light impinging upon it. It does\nnot feel cold to the touch, of course, since it will not absorb the heat\nof the hand. It is a solid, very dense in molecular structure despite\nits lack of weight, of great strength and considerable elasticity. It is\na perfect shield against the disintegrator rays.\n\n[Illustration: Setting his rocket gun for a long-distance shot.]\n\nRocket guns are very simple contrivances so far as the mechanism of\nlaunching the bullet is concerned. They are simple light tubes, closed\nat the rear end, with a trigger-actuated pin for piercing the thin skin\nat the base of the cartridge. This piercing of the skin starts the\nchemical and atomic reaction. The entire cartridge leaves the tube under\nits own power, at a very easy initial velocity, just enough to insure\naccuracy of aim; so the tube does not have to be of heavy construction.\nThe bullet increases in velocity as it goes. It may be solid or\nexplosive. It may explode on contact or on time, or a combination of\nthese two.\n\nBill and I talked mostly of weapons, military tactics and strategy.\nStrangely enough he had no idea whatever of the possibilities of the\nbarrage, though the tremendous effect of a \"curtain of fire\" with such\nhigh-explosive projectiles as these modern rocket guns used was obvious\nto me. But the barrage idea, it seemed, has been lost track of\ncompletely in the air wars that followed the First World War, and in the\npeculiar guerilla tactics developed by Americans in the later period of\noperations from the ground against Han airships, and in the gang wars\nwhich, until a few generations ago I learned, had been almost\ncontinuous.\n\n\"I wonder,\" said Bill one day, \"if we couldn't work up some form of\nbarrage to spring on the Bad Bloods. The Big Boss told me today that\nhe's been in communication with the other gangs, and all are agreed that\nthe Bad Bloods might as well be wiped out for good. That attempt on\nWilma Deering's life and their evident desire to make trouble among the\ngangs, has stirred up every community east of the Alleghenies. The Boss\nsays that none of the others will object if we go after them. So I\nimagine that before long we will. Now show me again how you worked that\nbusiness in the Argonne forest. The conditions ought to be pretty much\nthe same.\"\n\nI went over it with him in detail, and gradually we worked out a\nmodified plan that would be better adapted to our more powerful weapons,\nand the use of jumpers.\n\n\"It will be easy,\" Bill exulted. \"I'll slide down and talk it over with\nthe Boss tomorrow.\"\n\nDuring the first two weeks of my stay with the Wyomings, Wilma Deering\nand I saw a great deal of each other. I naturally felt a little closer\nfriendship for her, in view of the fact that she was the first human\nbeing I saw after waking from my long sleep; her appreciation of my\nsaving her life, though I could not have done otherwise than I did in\nthat matter, and most of all my own appreciation of the fact that she\nhad not found it as difficult as the others to believe my story,\noperated in the same direction. I could easily imagine my story must\nhave sounded incredible.\n\nIt was natural enough too, that she should feel an unusual interest in\nme. In the first place, I was her personal discovery. In the second, she\nwas a girl of studious and reflective turn of mind. She never got tired\nof my stories and descriptions of the 20th Century.\n\nThe others of the community, however, seemed to find our friendship a\nbit amusing. It seemed that Wilma had a reputation for being cold toward\nthe opposite sex, and so others, not being able to appreciate some of\nher fine qualities as I did, misinterpreted her attitude, much to their\nown delight. Wilma and I, however, ignored this as much as we could.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nA Han Air Raid\n\n\nThere was a girl in Wilma's camp named Gerdi Mann, with whom Bill Hearn\nwas desperately in love, and the four of us used to go around a lot\ntogether. Gerdi was a distinct type. Whereas Wilma had the usual dark\nbrown hair and hazel eyes that marked nearly every member of the\ncommunity, Gerdi had red hair, blue eyes and very fair skin. She has\nbeen dead many years now, but I remember her vividly because she was a\nthrowback in physical appearance to a certain 20th Century type which I\nhave found very rare among modern Americans; also because the four of us\nwere engaged one day in a discussion of this very point, when I obtained\nmy first experience of a Han air raid.\n\nWe were sitting high on the side of a hill overlooking the valley that\nteemed with human activity, invisible beneath its blanket of foliage.\n\nThe other three, who knew of the Irish but vaguely and indefinitely, as\na race on the other side of the globe, which, like ourselves, had\nsucceeded in maintaining a precarious and fugitive existence in\nrebellion against the Mongolian domination of the earth, were listening\nwith interest to my theory that Gerdi's ancestors of several hundred\nyears ago must have been Irish. I explained that Gerdi was an Irish\ntype, evidently a throwback, and that her surname might well have been\nMcMann, or McMahan, and still more anciently \"mac Mathghamhain.\" They\nwere interested too in my surmise that \"Gerdi\" was the same name as that\nwhich had been \"Gerty\" or \"Gertrude\" in the 20th Century.\n\nIn the middle of our discussion, we were startled by an alarm rocket\nthat burst high in the air, far to the north, spreading a pall of red\nsmoke that drifted like a cloud. It was followed by others at scattered\npoints in the northern sky.\n\n\"A Han raid!\" Bill exclaimed in amazement. \"The first in seven years!\"\n\n\"Maybe it's just one of their ships off its course,\" I ventured.\n\n\"No,\" said Wilma in some agitation. \"That would be green rockets. Red\nmeans only one thing, Tony. They're sweeping the countryside with their\ndis beams. Can you see anything, Bill?\"\n\n\"We had better get under cover,\" Gerdi said nervously. \"The four of us\nare bunched here in the open. For all we know they may be twelve miles\nup, out of sight, yet looking at us with a projecto'.\"\n\nBill had been sweeping the horizon hastily with his glass, but\napparently saw nothing.\n\n\"We had better scatter, at that,\" he said finally. \"It's orders, you\nknow. See!\" He pointed to the valley.\n\nHere and there a tiny human figure shot for a moment above the foliage\nof the treetops.\n\n\"That's bad,\" Wilma commented, as she counted the jumpers. \"No less than\nfifteen people visible, and all clearly radiating from a central point.\nDo they want to give away our location?\"\n\nThe standard orders covering air raids were that the population was to\nscatter individually. There should be no grouping, or even pairing, in\nview of the destructiveness of the disintegrator rays. Experience of\ngenerations had proved that if this were done, and everybody remained\nhidden beneath the tree screens, the Hans would have to sweep mile after\nmile of territory, foot by foot, to catch more than a small percentage\nof the community.\n\nGerdi, however, refused to leave Bill, and Wilma developed an equal\nobstinacy against quitting my side. I was inexperienced at this sort of\nthing, she explained, quite ignoring the fact that she was too; she was\nonly thirteen or fourteen years old at the time of the last air raid.\n\nHowever, since I could not argue her out of it, we leaped together about\na quarter of a mile to the right, while Bill and Gerdi disappeared down\nthe hillside among the trees.\n\nWilma and I both wanted a point of vantage from which we might overlook\nthe valley and the sky to the north, and we found it near the top of the\nridge, where, protected from visibility by thick branches, we could look\nout between the tree trunks, and get a good view of the valley.\n\nNo more rockets went up. Except for a few of those warning red clouds,\ndrifting lazily in a blue sky, there was no visible indication of man's\npast or present existence anywhere in the sky or on the ground.\n\nThen Wilma gripped my arm and pointed. I saw it; away off in the\ndistance; looking like a phantom dirigible airship, in its coat of\nlow-visibility paint, a bare spectre.\n\n\"Seven thousand feet up,\" Wilma whispered, crouching close to me.\n\"Watch.\"\n\nThe ship was about the same shape as the great dirigibles of the 20th\nCentury that I had seen, but without the suspended control car, engines,\npropellors, rudders or elevating planes. As it loomed rapidly nearer, I\nsaw that it was wider and somewhat flatter than I had supposed.\n\nNow I could see the repellor rays that held the ship aloft, like\nsearchlight beams faintly visible in the bright daylight (and still\nfaintly visible to the human eye at night). Actually, I had been\ninformed by my instructors, there were two rays; the visible one\ngenerated by the ship's apparatus, and directed toward the ground as a\nbeam of \"carrier\" impulses; and the true repellor ray, the complement of\nthe other in one sense, induced by the action of the \"carrier\" and\nreacting in a concentrating upward direction from the mass of the earth,\nbecoming successively electronic, atomic and finally molecular, in its\nnature, according to various ratios of distance between earth mass and\n\"carrier\" source, until, in the last analysis, the ship itself actually\nis supported on an upward rushing column of air, much like a ball\ncontinuously supported on a fountain jet.\n\nThe raider neared with incredible speed. Its rays were both slanted\nastern at a sharp angle, so that it slid forward with tremendous\nmomentum.\n\nThe ship was operating two disintegrator rays, though only in a casual,\nintermittent fashion. But whenever they flashed downward with blinding\nbrilliancy, forest, rocks and ground melted instantaneously into\nnothing, where they played upon them.\n\nWhen later I inspected the scars left by these rays I found them some\nfive feet deep and thirty feet wide, the exposed surfaces being\nlava-like in texture, but of a pale, iridescent, greenish hue.\n\nNo systematic use of the rays was made by the ship, however, until it\nreached a point over the center of the valley--the center of the\ncommunity's activities. There it came to a sudden stop by shooting its\nrepellor beams sharply forward and easing them back gradually to the\nvertical, holding the ship floating and motionless. Then the work of\ndestruction began systematically.\n\nBack and forth traveled the destroying rays, ploughing parallel furrows\nfrom hillside to hillside. We gasped in dismay, Wilma and I, as time\nafter time we saw it plough through sections where we knew camps or\nplants were located.\n\n\"This is awful,\" she moaned, a terrified question in her eyes. \"How\ncould they know the location so exactly, Tony? Did you see? They were\nnever in doubt. They stalled at a predetermined spot--and--and it was\nexactly the right spot.\"\n\nWe did not talk of what might happen if the rays were turned in our\ndirection. We both knew. We would simply disintegrate in a split second\ninto mere scattered electronic vibrations. Strangely enough, it was this\nself-reliant girl of the 25th Century, who clung to me, a relatively\nprimitive man of the 20th, less familiar than she with the thought of\nthis terrifying possibility, for moral support.\n\nWe knew that many of our companions must have been whisked into absolute\nnon-existence before our eyes in these few moments. The whole thing\nparalyzed us into mental and physical immobility for I do not know how\nlong.\n\nIt couldn't have been long, however, for the rays had not ploughed more\nthan thirty of their twenty-foot furrows or so across the valley, when I\nregained control of myself, and brought Wilma to herself by shaking her\nroughly.\n\n\"How far will this rocket gun shoot, Wilma?\" I demanded, drawing my\npistol.\n\n\"It depends on your rocket, Tony. It will take even the longest range\nrocket, but you could shoot more accurately from a longer tube. But why?\nYou couldn't penetrate the shell of that ship with rocket force, even if\nyou could reach it.\"\n\nI fumbled clumsily with my rocket pouch, for I was excited. I had an\nidea I wanted to try; a \"hunch\" I called it, forgetting that Wilma could\nnot understand my ancient slang. But finally, with her help, I selected\nthe longest range explosive rocket in my pouch, and fitted it to my\npistol.\n\n\"It won't carry seven thousand feet, Tony,\" Wilma objected. But I took\naim carefully. It was another thought that I had in my mind. The\nsupporting repellor ray, I had been told, became molecular in character\nat what was called a logarithmic level of five (below that it was a\npurely electronic \"flow\" or pulsation between the source of the\n\"carrier\" and the average mass of the earth). Below that level if I\ncould project my explosive bullet into this stream where it began to\ncarry material substance upward, might it not rise with the air column,\ngathering speed and hitting the ship with enough impact to carry it\nthrough the shell? It was worth trying anyhow. Wilma became greatly\nexcited, too, when she grasped the nature of my inspiration.\n\nFeverishly I looked around for some formation of branches against which\nI could rest the pistol, for I had to aim most carefully. At last I\nfound one. Patiently I sighted on the hulk of the ship far above us,\naiming at the far side of it, at such an angle as would, so far as I\ncould estimate, bring my bullet path through the forward repellor beam.\nAt last the sights wavered across the point I sought and I pressed the\nbutton gently.\n\nFor a moment we gazed breathlessly.\n\nSuddenly the ship swung bow down, as on a pivot, and swayed like a\npendulum. Wilma screamed in her excitement.\n\n\"Oh, Tony, you hit it! You hit it! Do it again; bring it down!\"\n\nWe had only one more rocket of extreme range between us, and we dropped\nit three times in our excitement in inserting it in my gun. Then,\nforcing myself to be calm by sheer will power, while Wilma stuffed her\nlittle fist into her mouth to keep from shrieking, I sighted carefully\nagain and fired. In a flash, Wilma had grasped the hope that this\ndiscovery of mine might lead to the end of the Han domination.\n\nThe elapsed time of the rocket's invisible flight seemed an age.\n\nThen we saw the ship falling. It seemed to plunge lazily, but actually\nit fell with terrific acceleration, turning end over end, its\ndisintegrator rays, out of control, describing vast, wild arcs, and once\ncutting a gash through the forest less than two hundred feet from where\nwe stood.\n\nThe crash with which the heavy craft hit the ground reverberated from\nthe hills--the momentum of eighteen or twenty thousand tons, in a sheer\ndrop of seven thousand feet. A mangled mass of metal, it buried itself\nin the ground, with poetic justice, in the middle of the smoking,\nsemi-molten field of destruction it had been so deliberately ploughing.\n\nThe silence, the vacuity of the landscape, was oppressive, as the last\nechoes died away.\n\nThen far down the hillside, a single figure leaped exultantly above the\nfoliage screen. And in the distance another, and another.\n\nIn a moment the sky was punctured by signal rockets. One after another\nthe little red puffs became drifting clouds.\n\n\"Scatter! Scatter!\" Wilma exclaimed. \"In half an hour there'll be an\nentire Han fleet here from Nu-yok, and another from Bah-flo. They'll get\nthis instantly on their recordographs and location finders. They'll\nblast the whole valley and the country for miles beyond. Come, Tony.\nThere's no time for the gang to rally. See the signals. We've got to\njump. Oh, I'm so proud of you!\"\n\nOver the ridge we went, in long leaps toward the east, the country of\nthe Delawares.\n\nFrom time to time signal rockets puffed in the sky. Most of them were\nthe \"red warnings,\" the \"scatter\" signals. But from certain of the\nothers, which Wilma identified as Wyoming rockets, she gathered that\nwhoever was in command (we did not know whether the Boss was alive or\nnot) was ordering an ultimate rally toward the south, and so we changed\nour course.\n\nIt was a great pity, I thought, that the clan had not been equipped\nthroughout its membership with ultrophones, but Wilma explained to me,\nthat not enough of these had been built for distribution as yet,\nalthough general distribution had been contemplated within a couple of\nmonths.\n\nWe traveled far before nightfall overtook us, trying only to put as much\ndistance as possible between ourselves and the valley.\n\nWhen gathering dusk made jumping too dangerous, we sought a comfortable\nspot beneath the trees, and consumed part of our emergency rations. It\nwas the first time I had tasted the stuff--a highly nutritive synthetic\nsubstance called \"concentro,\" which was, however, a bit bitter and\nunpalatable. But as only a mouthful or so was needed, it did not matter.\n\nNeither of us had a cloak, but we were both thoroughly tired and happy,\nso we curled up together for warmth. I remember Wilma making some sleepy\nremark about our mating, as she cuddled up, as though the matter were\nall settled, and my surprise at my own instant acceptance of the idea,\nfor I had not consciously thought of her that way before. But we both\nfell asleep at once.\n\nIn the morning we found little time for love making. The practical\nproblem facing us was too great. Wilma felt that the Wyoming plan must\nbe to rally in the Susquanna territory, but she had her doubts about the\nwisdom of this plan. In my elation at my success in bringing down the\nHan ship, and my newly found interest in my charming companion, who was,\nfrom my viewpoint of another century, at once more highly civilized and\nyet more primitive than myself, I had forgotten the ominous fact that\nthe Han ship I had destroyed must have known the exact location of the\nWyoming Works.\n\nThis meant, to Wilma's logical mind, either that the Hans had perfected\nnew instruments as yet unknown to us, or that somewhere, among the\nWyomings or some other nearby gang, there were traitors so degraded as\nto commit that unthinkable act of trafficking in information with the\nHans. In either contingency, she argued, other Han raids would follow,\nand since the Susquannas had a highly developed organization and more\nthan usually productive plants, the next raid might be expected to\nstrike them.\n\nBut at any rate it was clearly our business to get in touch with the\nother fugitives as quickly as possible, so in spite of muscles that were\nsore from the excessive leaping of the day before, we continued on our\nway.\n\nWe traveled for only a couple of hours when we saw a multi-colored\nrocket in the sky, some ten miles ahead of us.\n\n\"Bear to the left, Tony,\" Wilma said, \"and listen for the whistle.\"\n\n\"Why?\" I asked.\n\n\"Haven't they given you the rocket code yet?\" she replied. \"That's what\nthe green, followed by yellow and purple means; to concentrate five\nmiles east of the rocket position. You know the rocket position itself\nmight draw a play of disintegrator beams.\"\n\nIt did not take us long to reach the neighborhood of the indicated\nrallying, though we were now traveling beneath the trees, with but an\noccasional leap to a top branch to see if any more rocket smoke was\nfloating above. And soon we heard a distant whistle.\n\nWe found about half the Gang already there, in a spot where the trees\nmet high above a little stream. The Big Boss and Raid Bosses were busy\nreorganizing the remnants.\n\nWe reported to Boss Hart at once. He was silent, but interested, when he\nheard our story.\n\n\"You two stick close to me,\" he said, adding grimly, \"I'm going back to\nthe valley at once with a hundred picked men, and I'll need you.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nSetting the Trap\n\n\nInside of fifteen minutes we were on our way. A certain amount of\ncaution was sacrificed for the sake of speed, and the men leaped away\neither across the forest top, or over open spaces of ground, but\nconcentration was forbidden. The Big Boss named the spot on the hillside\nas the rallying point.\n\n\"We'll have to take a chance on being seen, so long as we don't group,\"\nhe declared, \"at least until within five miles of the rallying spot.\nFrom then on I want every man to disappear from sight and to travel\nunder cover. And keep your ultrophones open, and tuned on\nten-four-seven-six.\"\n\nWilma and I had received our battle equipment from the Gear boss. It\nconsisted of a long-gun, a hand-gun, with a special case of ammunition\nconstructed of inertron, which made the load weigh but a few ounces, and\na short sword. This gear we strapped over each other's shoulders, on top\nof our jumping belts. In addition, we each received an ultrophone, and a\nlight inertron blanket rolled into a cylinder about six inches long by\ntwo or three in diameter. This fabric was exceedingly thin and light,\nbut it had considerable warmth, because of the mixture of inertron in\nits composition.\n\n[Illustration: The Han raider neared with incredible speed. Its rays\nwere both slanted astern at a sharp angle, so that it slid forward with\ntremendous momentum.... Whenever the disintegrator rays flashed downward\nwith blinding brilliancy, forest, rocks and ground melted\ninstantaneously into nothing, where they played upon them.]\n\n\"This looks like business,\" Wilma remarked to me with sparkling eyes.\n(And I might mention a curious thing here. The word \"business\" had\nsurvived from the 20th Century American vocabulary, but not with any\nmeaning of \"industry\" or \"trade,\" for such things being purely community\nactivities were spoken of as \"work\" and \"clearing.\" Business simply\nmeant fighting, and that was all.)\n\n\"Did you bring all this equipment from the valley?\" I asked the Gear\nBoss.\n\n\"No,\" he said. \"There was no time to gather anything. All this stuff we\ncleared from the Susquannas a few hours ago. I was with the Boss on the\nway down, and he had me jump on ahead and arrange it. But you two had\nbetter be moving. He's beckoning you now.\"\n\nHart was about to call us on our phones when we looked up. As soon as we\ndid so, he leaped away, waving us to follow closely.\n\nHe was a powerful man, and he darted ahead in long, swift, low leaps up\nthe banks of the stream, which followed a fairly straight course at this\npoint. By extending ourselves, however, Wilma and I were able to catch\nup to him.\n\nAs we gradually synchronized our leaps with his, he outlined to us,\nbetween the grunts that accompanied each leap, his plan of action.\n\n\"We have to start the big business--unh--sooner or later,\" he said.\n\"And if--unh--the Hans have found any way of locating our\npositions--unh--it's time to start now, although the Council of\nBosses--unh--had intended waiting a few years until enough rocket ships\nhave been--unh--built. But no matter what the sacrifice--unh--we can't\nafford to let them get us on the run--unh--. We'll set a trap for the\nyellow devils in the--unh--valley if they come back for their\nwreckage--unh--and if they don't, we'll go rocketing for some of their\nliners--unh--on the Nu-yok, Clee-lan, Si-ka-ga course. We can\nuse--unh--that idea of yours of shooting up the repellor--unh--beams.\nWant you to give us a demonstration.\"\n\nWith further admonition to follow him closely, he increased his pace,\nand Wilma and I were taxed to our utmost to keep up with him. It was\nonly in ascending the slopes that my tougher muscles overbalanced his\ngreater skill, and I was able to set the pace for him, as I had for\nWilma.\n\nWe slept in greater comfort that night, under our inertron blankets, and\nwere off with the dawn, leaping cautiously to the top of the ridge\noverlooking the valley which Wilma and I had left.\n\nThe Boss scanned the sky with his ultroscope, patiently taking some\nfifteen minutes to the task, and then swung his phone into use, calling\nthe roll and giving the men their instructions.\n\nHis first order was for us all to slip our ear and chest discs into\npermanent position.\n\nThese ultrophones were quite different from the one used by Wilma's\ncompanion scout the day I saved her from the vicious attack of the\nbandit Gang. That one was contained entirely in a small pocket case.\nThese, with which we were now equipped, consisted of a pair of ear\ndiscs, each a separate and self-contained receiving set. They slipped\ninto little pockets over our ears in the fabric helmets we wore, and\nshut out virtually all extraneous sounds. The chest discs were likewise\nself-contained sending sets, strapped to the chest a few inches below\nthe neck and actuated by the vibrations from the vocal cords through the\nbody tissues. The total range of these sets was about eighteen miles.\nReception was remarkably clear, quite free from the static that so\nmarked the 20th Century radios, and of a strength in direct proportion\nto the distance of the speaker.\n\nThe Boss' set was triple powered, so that his orders would cut in on any\nlocal conversations, which were indulged in, however, with great\nrestraint, and only for the purpose of maintaining contacts.\n\nI marveled at the efficiency of this modern method of battle\ncommunication in contrast to the clumsy signaling devices of more\nancient times; and also at other military contrasts in which the 20th\nand 25th Century methods were the reverse of each other in efficiency.\nThese modern Americans, for instance, knew little of hand to hand\nfighting, and nothing, naturally, of trench warfare. Of barrages they\nwere quite ignorant, although they possessed weapons of terrific power.\nAnd until my recent flash of inspiration, no one among them, apparently,\nhad ever thought of the scheme of shooting a rocket into a repellor beam\nand letting the beam itself hurl it upward into the most vital part of\nthe Han ship.\n\nHart patiently placed his men, first giving his instructions to the\ncampmasters, and then remaining silent, while they placed the\nindividuals.\n\nIn the end, the hundred men were ringed about the valley, on the\nhillsides and tops, each in a position from which he had a good view of\nthe wreckage of the Han ship. But not a man had come in view, so far as\nI could see, in the whole process.\n\nThe Boss explained to me that it was his idea that he, Wilma and I\nshould investigate the wreck. If Han ships should appear in the sky, we\nwould leap for the hillsides.\n\nI suggested to him to have the men set up their long-guns trained on an\nimaginary circle surrounding the wreck. He busied himself with this\nafter the three of us leaped down to the Han ship, serving as a target\nhimself, while he called on the men individually to aim their pieces and\nlock them in position.\n\nIn the meantime Wilma and I climbed into the wreckage, but did not find\nmuch. Practically all of the instruments and machinery had been twisted\nout of all recognizable shape, or utterly destroyed by the ship's\ndisintegrator rays which apparently had continued to operate in the\nmidst of its warped remains for some moments after the crash.\n\nIt was unpleasant work searching the mangled bodies of the crew. But it\nhad to be done. The Han clothing, I observed, was quite different from\nthat of the Americans, and in many respects more like the garb to which\nI had been accustomed in the earlier part of my life. It was made of\nsynthetic fabrics like silks, loose and comfortable trousers of knee\nlength, and sleeveless shirts.\n\nNo protection, except that against drafts, was needed, Wilma explained\nto me, for the Han cities were entirely enclosed, with splendid\narrangements for ventilation and heating. These arrangements of course\nwere equally adequate in their airships. The Hans, indeed, had quite a\ndistaste for unshaded daylight, since their lighting apparatus diffused\na controlled amount of violet rays, making the unmodified sunlight\nunnecessary for health, and undesirable for comfort. Since the Hans did\nnot have the secret of inertron, none of them wore anti-gravity belts.\nYet in spite of the fact that they had to bear their own full weights at\nall times, they were physically far inferior to the Americans, for they\nlived lives of degenerative physical inertia, having machinery of every\ndescription for the performance of all labor, and convenient conveyances\nfor any movement of more than a few steps.\n\nEven from the twisted wreckage of this ship I could see that seats,\nchairs and couches played an extremely important part in their scheme of\nexistence.\n\nBut none of the bodies were overweight. They seemed to have been the\nbodies of men in good health, but muscularly much underdeveloped. Wilma\nexplained to me that they had mastered the science of gland control, and\nof course dietetics, to the point where men and women among them not\nuncommonly reached the age of a hundred years with arteries and general\nhealth in splendid condition.\n\nI did not have time to study the ship and its contents as carefully as I\nwould have liked, however. Time pressed, and it was our business to\ndiscover some clue to the deadly accuracy with which the ship had\nspotted the Wyoming Works.\n\nThe Boss had hardly finished his arrangements for the ring barrage, when\none of the scouts on an eminence to the north, announced the approach of\nseven Han ships, spread out in a great semi-circle.\n\nHart leaped for the hillside, calling to us to do likewise, but Wilma\nand I had raised the flaps of our helmets and switched off our\n\"speakers\" for conversation between ourselves, and by the time we\ndiscovered what had happened, the ships were clearly visible, so fast\nwere they approaching.\n\n\"Jump!\" we heard the Boss order, \"Deering to the north. Rogers to the\neast.\"\n\nBut Wilma looked at me meaningly and pointed to where the twisted plates\nof the ship, projecting from the ground, offered a shelter.\n\n\"Too late, Boss,\" she said. \"They'd see us. Besides I think there's\nsomething here we ought to look at. It's probably their magnetic graph.\"\n\n\"You're signing your death warrant,\" Hart warned.\n\n\"We'll risk it,\" said Wilma and I together.\n\n\"Good for you,\" replied the Boss. \"Take command then, Rogers, for the\npresent. Do you all know his voice, boys?\"\n\nA chorus of assent rang in our ears, and I began to do some fast\nthinking as the girl and I ducked into the twisted mass of metal.\n\n\"Wilma, hunt for that record,\" I said, knowing that by the simple\nprocess of talking I could keep the entire command continuously informed\nas to the situation. \"On the hillsides, keep your guns trained on the\ncircles and stand by. On the hilltops, how many of you are there? Speak\nin rotation from Bald Knob around to the east, north, west.\"\n\nIn turn the men called their names. There were twenty of them.\n\nI assigned them by name to cover the various Han ships, numbering the\nlatter from left to right.\n\n\"Train your rockets on their repellor rays about three-quarters of the\nway up, between ships and ground. Aim is more important than elevation.\nFollow those rays with your aim continuously. Shoot when I tell you, not\nbefore. Deering has the record. The Hans probably have not seen us, or\nat least think there are but two of us in the valley, since they're\nsettling without opening up disintegrators. Any opinions?\"\n\nMy ear discs remained silent.\n\n\"Deering and I remain here until they land and debark. Stand by and keep\nalert.\"\n\nRapidly and easily the largest of the Han ships settled to the earth.\nThree scouted sharply to the south, rising to a higher level. The others\nfloated motionless about a thousand feet above.\n\nPeeping through a small fissure between two plates, I saw the vast hulk\nof the ship come to rest full on the line of our prospective ring\nbarrage. A door clanged open a couple of feet from the ground, and one\nby one the crew emerged.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\nThe \"Wyoming Massacre\"\n\n\n\"They're coming out of the ship.\" I spoke quietly, with my hand over\nmy mouth, for fear they might hear me. \"One--two--three--four,\nfive--six--seven--eight--nine. That seems to be all. Who knows how\nmany men a ship like that is likely to carry?\"\n\n\"About ten, if there are no passengers,\" replied one of my men, probably\none of those on the hillside.\n\n\"How are they armed?\" I asked.\n\n\"Just knives,\" came the reply. \"They never permit hand-rays on the\nships. Afraid of accidents. Have a ruling against it.\"\n\n\"Leave them to us then,\" I said, for I had a hastily formed plan in my\nmind. \"You, on the hillsides, take the ships above. Abandon the ring\ntarget. Divide up in training on those repellor rays. You, on the\nhilltops, all train on the repellors of the ships to the south. Shoot at\nthe word, but not before.\n\n\"Wilma, crawl over to your left where you can make a straight leap for\nthe door in that ship. These men are all walking around the wreck in a\nbunch. When they're on the far side, I'll give the word and you leap\nthrough that door in one bound. I'll follow. Maybe we won't be seen.\nWe'll overpower the guard inside, but don't shoot. We may escape being\nseen by both this crew and ships above. They can't see over this wreck.\"\n\nIt was so easy that it seemed too good to be true. The Hans who had\nemerged from the ship walked round the wreckage lazily, talking in\nguttural tones, keenly interested in the wreck, but quite unsuspicious.\n\nAt last they were on the far side. In a moment they would be picking\ntheir way into the wreck.\n\n\"Wilma, leap!\" I almost whispered the order.\n\nThe distance between Wilma's hiding place and the door in the side of\nthe Han ship was not more than fifteen feet. She was already crouched\nwith her feet braced against a metal beam. Taking the lift of that\nwonderful inertron belt into her calculation, she dove headforemost,\nlike a green projectile, through the door. I followed in a split second,\nmore clumsily, but no less speedily, bruising my shoulder painfully, as\nI ricocheted from the edge of the opening and brought up sliding against\nthe unconscious girl; for she evidently had hit her head against the\npartition within the ship into which she had crashed.\n\nWe had made some noise within the ship. Shuffling footsteps were\napproaching down a well lit gangway.\n\n\"Any signs we have been observed?\" I asked my men on the hillsides.\n\n\"Not yet,\" I heard the Boss reply. \"Ships overhead still standing. No\nbeams have been broken out. Men on ground absorbed in wreck. Most of\nthem have crawled into it out of sight.\"\n\n\"Good,\" I said quickly. \"Deering hit her head. Knocked out. One or more\nmembers of the crew approaching. We're not discovered yet. I'll take\ncare of them. Stand a bit longer, but be ready.\"\n\nI think my last words must have been heard by the man who was\napproaching, for he stopped suddenly.\n\nI crouched at the far side of the compartment, motionless. I would not\ndraw my sword if there were only one of them. He would be a weakling, I\nfigured, and I should easily overcome him with my bare hands.\n\nApparently reassured at the absence of any further sound, a man came\naround a sort of bulkhead--and I leaped.\n\nI swung my legs up in front of me as I did so, catching him full in the\nstomach and knocked him cold.\n\nI ran forward along the keel gangway, searching for the control room. I\nfound it well up in the nose of the ship. And it was deserted. What\ncould I do to jam the controls of the ships that would not register on\nthe recording instruments of the other ships? I gazed at the mass of\ncontrols. Levers and wheels galore. In the center of the compartment, on\na massively braced universal joint mounting, was what I took for the\nrepellor generator. A dial on it glowed and a faint hum came from within\nits shielding metallic case. But I had no time to study it.\n\nAbove all else, I was afraid that some automatic telephone apparatus\nexisted in the room, through which I might be heard on the other ships.\nThe risk of trying to jam the controls was too great. I abandoned the\nidea and withdrew softly. I would have to take a chance that there was\nno other member of the crew aboard.\n\nI ran back to the entrance compartment. Wilma still lay where she had\nslumped down. I heard the voices of the Hans approaching. It was time to\nact. The next few seconds would tell whether the ships in the air would\ntry or be able to melt us into nothingness. I spoke.\n\n\"Are you boys all ready?\" I asked, creeping to a position opposite the\ndoor and drawing my hand-gun.\n\nAgain there was a chorus of assent.\n\n\"Then on the count of three, shoot up those repellor rays--all of\nthem--and for God's sake, don't miss.\" And I counted.\n\nI think my \"three\" was a bit weak. I know it took all the courage I had\nto utter it.\n\nFor an agonizing instant nothing happened, except that the landing party\nfrom the ship strolled into my range of vision.\n\nThen startled, they turned their eyes upward. For an instant they stood\nfrozen with horror at whatever they saw.\n\nOne hurled his knife at me. It grazed my cheek. Then a couple of them\nmade a break for the doorway. The rest followed. But I fired pointblank\nwith my hand-gun, pressing the button as fast as I could and aiming at\ntheir feet to make sure my explosive rockets would make contact and do\ntheir work.\n\nThe detonations of my rockets were deafening. The spot on which the Hans\nstood flashed into a blinding glare. Then there was nothing there except\ntheir torn and mutilated corpses. They had been fairly bunched, and I\ngot them all.\n\nI ran to the door, expecting any instant to be hurled into infinity by\nthe sweep of a disintegrator ray.\n\nSome eighth of a mile away I saw one of the ships crash to earth. A\ndisintegrator ray came into my line of vision, wavered uncertainly for a\nmoment and then began to sweep directly toward the ship in which I\nstood. But it never reached it. Suddenly, like a light switched off, it\nshot to one side, and a moment later another vast hulk crashed to earth.\nI looked out, then stepped out on the ground.\n\nThe only Han ships in the sky were two of the scouts to the south which\nwere hanging perpendicularly, and sagging slowly down. The others must\nhave crashed down while I was deafened by the sound of the explosion of\nmy own rockets.\n\nSomebody hit the other repellor ray of one of the two remaining ships\nand it fell out of sight beyond a hilltop. The other, farther away,\ndrifted down diagonally, its disintegrator ray playing viciously over\nthe ground below it.\n\nI shouted with exultation and relief.\n\n\"Take back the command, Boss!\" I yelled.\n\nHis commands, sending out jumpers in pursuit of the descending ship,\nrang in my ears, but I paid no attention to them. I leaped back into the\ncompartment of the Han ship and knelt beside my Wilma. Her padded helmet\nhad absorbed much of the blow, I thought; otherwise, her skull might\nhave been fractured.\n\n\"Oh, my head!\" she groaned, coming to as I lifted her gently in my arms\nand strode out in the open with her. \"We must have won, dearest, did\nwe?\"\n\n\"We most certainly did,\" I reassured her. \"All but one crashed and that\none is drifting down toward the south; we've captured this one we're in\nintact. There was only one member of the crew aboard when we dove in.\"\n\n[Illustration: As the American leaped, he swung his legs up in front of\nhim, catching the Han full in the stomach.]\n\nLess than an hour afterward the Big Boss ordered the outfit to tune in\nultrophones on three-twenty-three to pick up a translated broadcast of\nthe Han intelligence office in Nu-yok from the Susquanna station. It\nwas in the form of a public warning and news item, and read as follows:\n\n\"This is Public Intelligence Office, Nu-yok, broadcasting warning to\nnavigators of private ships, and news of public interest. The squadron\nof seven ships, which left Nu-yok this morning to investigate the recent\ndestruction of the GK-984 in the Wyoming Valley, has been destroyed by a\nseries of mysterious explosions similar to those which wrecked the\nGK-984.\n\n\"The phones, viewplates, and all other signaling devices of five of the\nseven ships ceased operating suddenly at approximately the same moment,\nabout seven-four-nine.\" (According to the Han system of reckoning time,\nseven and forty-nine one hundredths after midnight.) \"After violent\ndisturbances the location finders went out of operation. Electroactivity\nregisters applied to the territory of the Wyoming Valley remain dead.\n\n\"The Intelligence Office has no indication of the kind of disaster which\novertook the squadron except certain evidences of explosive phenomena\nsimilar to those in the case of the GK-984, which recently went dead\nwhile beaming the valley in a systematic effort to wipe out the works\nand camps of the tribesmen. The Office considers, as obvious, the\ndeduction that the tribesmen have developed a new, and as yet\nundetermined, technique of attack on airships, and has recommended to\nthe Heaven-Born that immediate and unlimited authority be given the\nNavigation Intelligence Division to make an investigation of this\ntechnique and develop a defense against it.\n\n\"In the meantime it urges that private navigators avoid this territory\nin particular, and in general hold as closely as possible to the\nofficial inter-city routes, which now are being patrolled by the entire\nforce of the Military Office, which is beaming the routes generously to\na width of ten miles. The Military Office reports that it is at present\nconsidering no retaliatory raids against the tribesmen. With the\nNavigation Intelligence Division, it holds that unless further evidence\nof the nature of the disaster is developed in the near future, the\npublic interest will be better served, and at smaller cost of life, by a\nscientific research than by attempts at retaliation, which may bring\ndestruction on all ships engaging therein. So unless further evidence\nactually is developed, or the Heaven-Born orders to the contrary, the\nMilitary will hold to a defensive policy.\n\n\"Unofficial intimations from Lo-Tan are to the effect that the\nHeaven-Council has the matter under consideration.\n\n\"The Navigation Intelligence Office permits the broadcast of the\nfollowing condensation of its detailed observations:\n\n\"The squadron proceeded to a position above the Wyoming Valley where\nthe wreck of the GK-984 was known to be, from the record of its location\nfinder before it went dead recently. There the bottom projectoscope\nrelays of all ships registered the wreck of the GK-984. Teleprojectoscope\nviews of the wreck and the bowl of the valley showed no evidence of the\npresence of tribesmen. Neither ship registers nor base registers showed\nany indication of electroactivity except from the squadron itself. On\norders from the Base Squadron Commander, the LD-248, LK-745 and LG-25\nscouted southward at 3,000 feet. The GK-43, GK-981 and GK-220 stood\nabove at 2,500 feet, and the GK-18 landed to permit personal inspection\nof the wreck by the science committee. The party debarked, leaving one\nman on board in the control cabin. He set all projectoscopes at\nuniversal focus except RB-3,\" (this meant the third projectoscope from\nthe bow of the ship, on the right-hand side of the lower deck) \"with\nwhich he followed the landing group as it walked around the wreck.\n\n\"The first abnormal phenomenon recorded by any of the instruments at\nBase was that relayed automatically from projectoscope RB-4 of the\nGK-18, which as the party disappeared from view in back of the wreck,\nrecorded two green missiles of roughly cylindrical shape, projected from\nthe wreckage into the landing compartment of the ship. At such close\nrange these were not clearly defined, owing to the universal focus at\nwhich the projectoscope was set. The Base Captain of GK-18 at once\nordered the man in the control room to investigate, and saw him leave\nthe control room in compliance with this order. An instant later\nconfused sounds reached the control-room electrophone, such as might be\nmade by a man falling heavily, and footsteps reapproached the control\nroom, a figure entering and leaving the control room hurriedly. The Base\nCaptain now believes, and the stills of the photorecord support his\nbelief, that this was not the crew member who had been left in the\ncontrol room. Before the Base Captain could speak to him he left the\nroom, nor was any response given to the attention signal the Captain\nflashed throughout the ship.\n\n\"At this point projectoscope RB-3 of the ship now out of focus control,\ndimly showed the landing party walking back toward the ship. RB-4 showed\nit more clearly. Then on both these instruments, a number of blinding\nexplosives in rapid succession were seen and the electrophone relays\nregistered terrific concussions; the ship's electronic apparatus and\nprojectoscopes apparatus went dead.\n\n\"Reports of the other ships' Base Observers and Executives, backed by\nthe photorecords, show the explosions as taking place in the midst of\nthe landing party as it returned, evidently unsuspicious, to the ship.\nThen in rapid succession they indicate that terrific explosions occurred\ninside and outside the three ships standing above close to their rep-ray\ngenerators, and all signals from these ships thereupon went dead.\n\n\"Of the three ships scouting to the south, the LD-248 suffered an\nidentical fate, at the same moment. Its records add little to the\nknowledge of the disaster. But with the LK-745 and the LG-25 it was\ndifferent.\n\n\"The relay instruments of the LK-745 indicated the destruction by an\nexplosion of the rear rep-ray generator, and that the ship hung stern\ndown for a short space, swinging like a pendulum. The forward viewplates\nand indicators did not cease functioning, but their records are chaotic,\nexcept for one projectoscope still, which shows the bowl of the valley,\nand the GK-981 falling, but no visible evidence of tribesmen. The\ncontrol-room viewplate is also a chaotic record of the ship's crew\ntumbling and falling to the rear wall. Then the forward rep-ray\ngenerator exploded, and all signals went dead.\n\n\"The fate of the LG-25 was somewhat similar, except that this ship hung\nnose down, and drifted on the wind southward as it slowly descended out\nof control.\n\n\"As its control room was shattered, verbal report from its Action\nCaptain was precluded. The record of the interior rear viewplate shows\nmembers of the crew climbing toward the rear rep-ray generator in an\nattempt to establish manual control of it, and increase the lift. The\nprojectoscope relays, swinging in wide arcs, recorded little of value\nexcept at the ends of their swings. One of these, from a machine which\nhappened to be set in telescopic focus, shows several views of great\nvalue in picturing the falls of the other ships, and all of the rear\nprojectoscope records enable the reconstruction in detail of the\npendulum and torsional movements of the ship, and its sag toward the\nearth. But none of the views showing the forest below contain any\nindication of tribesmen's presence. A final explosion put this ship out\nof commission at a height of 1,000 feet, and at a point four miles S. by\nE. of the center of the valley.\"\n\nThe message ended with a repetition of the warning to other airmen to\navoid the valley.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\nIncredible Treason\n\n\nAfter receiving this report, and reassurances of support from the Big\nBosses of the neighboring Gangs, Hart determined to reestablish the\nWyoming Valley community.\n\nA careful survey of the territory showed that it was only the northern\nsections and slopes that had been \"beamed\" by the first Han ship.\n\nThe synthetic-fabrics plant had been partially wiped out, though the\nlower levels underground had not been reached by the dis ray. The forest\nscreen above it, however, had been annihilated, and it was determined to\nabandon it, after removing all usable machinery and evidences of the\nprocesses that might be of interest to the Han scientists, should they\nreturn to the valley in the future.\n\nThe ammunition plant, and the rocket-ship plant, which had just been\nabout to start operation at the time of the raid, were intact, as were\nthe other important plants.\n\nHart brought the Camboss up from the Susquanna Works, and laid out new\ncamp locations, scattering them farther to the south, and avoiding\nground which had been seared by the Han beams and the immediate\nlocations of the Han wrecks.\n\nDuring this period, a sharp check was kept upon Han messages, for the\nphone plant had been one of the first to be put in operation, and when\nit became evident that the Hans did not intend any immediate reprisals,\nthe entire membership of the community was summoned back, and normal\nlife was resumed.\n\nWilma and I had been married the day after the destruction of the ships,\nand spent this intervening period in a delightful honeymoon, camping\nhigh in the mountains. On our return, we had a camp of our own, of\ncourse. We were assigned to location 1017. And as might be expected, we\nhad a great deal of banter over which one of us was Camp Boss. The title\nstood after my name on the Big Boss' records, and those of the Big\nCamboss, of course, but Wilma airily held that this meant nothing at\nall--and generally succeeded in making me admit it whenever she chose.\n\nI found myself a full-fledged member of the Gang now, for I had elected\nto search no farther for a permanent alliance, much as I would have\nliked to familiarize myself with this 25th Century life in other\nsections of the country. The Wyomings had a high morale, and had\nprospered under the rule of Big Boss Hart for many years. But many of\nthe gangs, I found, were badly organized, lacked strong hands in\nauthority, and were rife with intrigue. On the whole, I thought I would\nbe wise to stay with a group which had already proved its friendliness,\nand in which I seemed to have prospects of advancement. Under these\nmodern social and economic conditions, the kind of individual freedom to\nwhich I had been accustomed in the 20th Century was impossible. I would\nhave been as much of a nonentity in every phase of human relationship by\nattempting to avoid alliances, as any man of the 20th Century would have\nbeen politically, who aligned himself with no political party.\n\nThis entire modern life, it appeared to me, judging from my ancient\nviewpoint, was organized along what I called \"political\" lines. And in\nthis connection, it amused me to notice how universal had become the use\nof the word \"boss.\" The leader, the person in charge or authority over\nanything, was a \"boss.\" There was as little formality in his relations\nwith his followers as there was in the case of the 20th Century\npolitical boss, and the same high respect paid him by his followers as\nwell as the same high consideration by him of their interests. He was\njust as much of an autocrat, and just as much dependent upon the general\npopularity of his actions for the ability to maintain his autocracy.\n\nThe sub-boss who could not command the loyalty of his followers was as\nquickly deposed, either by them or by his superiors, as the ancient ward\nleader of the 20th Century who lost control of his votes.\n\nAs society was organized in the 20th Century, I do not believe the\nsystem could have worked in anything but politics. I tremble to think\nwhat would have happened, had the attempt been made to handle the A. E.\nF. this way during the First World War, instead of by that rigid\nmilitary discipline and complete assumption of the individual as a mere\nstandardized cog in the machine.\n\nBut owing to the centuries of desperate suffering the people had endured\nat the hands of the Hans, there developed a spirit of self-sacrifice and\nconsideration for the common good that made the scheme applicable and\nefficient in all forms of human co-operation.\n\nI have a little heresy about all this, however. My associates regard the\nthought with as much horror as many worthy people of the 20th Century\nfelt in regard to any heretical suggestion that the original outline of\ngovernment as laid down in the First Constitution did not apply as well\nto 20th Century conditions as to those of the early 19th.\n\nIn later years, I felt that there was a certain softening of moral fiber\namong the people, since the Hans had been finally destroyed with all\ntheir works; and Americans have developed a new luxury economy. I have\nseen signs of the reawakening of greed, of selfishness. The eternal\ncycle seems to be at work. I fear that slowly, though surely, private\nwealth is reappearing, codes of inflexibility are developing; they will\nbe followed by corruption, degradation; and in the end some cataclysmic\nevent will end this era and usher in a new one.\n\nAll this, however, is wandering afar from my story, which concerns our\nearly battles against the Hans, and not our more modern problems of\nself-control.\n\nOur victory over the seven Han ships had set the country ablaze. The\nsecret had been carefully communicated to the other gangs, and the\ncountry was agog from one end to the other. There was feverish activity\nin the ammunition plants, and the hunting of stray Han ships became an\nenthusiastic sport. The results were disastrous to our hereditary\nenemies.\n\nFrom the Pacific Coast came the report of a great transpacific liner of\n75,000 tons \"lift\" being brought to earth from a position of\ninvisibility above the clouds. A dozen Sacramentos had caught the hazy\noutlines of its rep rays approaching them, head-on, in the twilight,\nlike ghostly pillars reaching into the sky. They had fired rockets into\nit with ease, whereas they would have had difficulty in hitting it if it\nhad been moving at right angles to their position. They got one rep ray.\nThe other was not strong enough to hold it up. It floated to earth, nose\ndown, and since it was unarmed and unarmored, they had no difficulty in\nshooting it to pieces and massacring its crew and passengers. It seemed\nbarbarous to me. But then I did not have centuries of bitter persecution\nin my blood.\n\nFrom the Jersey Beaches we received news of the destruction of a\nNu-yok-A-lan-a liner. The Sand-snipers, practically invisible in their\nsand-colored clothing, and half buried along the beaches, lay in wait\nfor days, risking the play of dis beams along the route, and finally\nregistering four hits within a week. The Hans discontinued their service\nalong this route, and as evidence that they were badly shaken by our\nsuccess, sent no raiders down the Beaches.\n\nIt was a few weeks later that Big Boss Hart sent for me.\n\n\"Tony,\" he said, \"There are two things I want to talk to you about. One\nof them will become public property in a few days, I think. We aren't\ngoing to get any more Han ships by shooting up their repellor rays\nunless we use much larger rockets. They are wise to us now. They're\nputting armor of great thickness in the hulls of their ships below the\nrep-ray machines. Near Bah-flo this morning a party of Eries shot one\nwithout success. The explosions staggered her, but did not penetrate. As\nnear as we can gather from their reports, their laboratories have\ndeveloped a new alloy of great tensile strength and elasticity which\nnevertheless lets the rep rays through like a sieve. Our reports\nindicate that the Eries' rockets bounced off harmlessly. Most of the\nparty was wiped out as the dis rays went into action on them.\n\n\"This is going to mean real business for all of the gangs before long.\nThe Big Bosses have just held a national ultrophone council. It was\ndecided that America must organize on a national basis. The first move\nis to develop sectional organization by Zones. I have been made\nSuperboss of the Mid-Atlantic Zone.\n\n\"We're in for it now. The Hans are sure to launch reprisal expeditions.\nIf we're to save the race we must keep them away from our camps and\nplants. I'm thinking of developing a permanent field force, along the\nlines of the regular armies of the 20th Century you told me about. Its\nbusiness will be twofold: to carry the warfare as much as possible to\nthe Hans, and to serve as a decoy, to keep their attention from our\nplants. I'm going to need your help in this.\n\n\"The other thing I wanted to talk to you about is this: Amazing and\nimpossible as it seems, there is a group, or perhaps an entire gang,\nsomewhere among us, that is betraying us to the Hans. It may be the Bad\nBloods, or it may be one of those gangs who live near one of the Han\ncities. You know, a hundred and fifteen or twenty years ago there were\ncertain of these people's ancestors who actually degraded themselves by\nmating with the Hans, sometimes even serving them as slaves, in the days\nbefore they brought all their service machinery to perfection.\n\n\"There is such a gang, called the Nagras, up near Bah-flo, and another\nin Mid-Jersey that men call the Pineys. But I hardly suspect the Pineys.\nThere is little intelligence among them. They wouldn't have the\ninformation to give the Hans, nor would they be capable of imparting it.\nThey're absolute savages.\"\n\n\"Just what evidence is there that anybody has been clearing information\nto the Hans?\" I asked.\n\n\"Well,\" he replied, \"first of all there was that raid upon us. That\nfirst Han ship knew the location of our plants exactly. You remember it\nfloated directly into position above the valley and began a systematic\nbeaming. Then, the Hans quite obviously have learned that we are picking\nup their electrophone waves, for they've gone back to their old, but\nextremely accurate, system of directional control. But we've been\ngetting them for the past week by installing automatic re-broadcast\nunits along the scar paths. This is what the Americans called those\nstrips of country directly under the regular ship routes of the Hans,\nwho as a matter of precaution frequently blasted them with their dis\nbeams to prevent the growth of foliage which might give shelter to the\nAmericans. But they've been beaming those paths so hard, it looks as\nthough they even had information of this strategy. And in addition,\nthey've been using code. Finally, we've picked up three of their\nmessages in which they discuss, with some nervousness, the existence of\nour 'mysterious' ultrophone.\"\n\n\"But they still have no knowledge of the nature and control of ultronic\nactivity?\" I asked.\n\n\"No,\" said the Big Boss thoughtfully, \"they don't seem to have a bit of\ninformation about it.\"\n\n\"Then it's quite clear,\" I ventured, \"that whoever is 'clearing' us to\nthem is doing it piecemeal. It sounds like a bit of occasional barter,\nrather than an out-and-out alliance. They're holding back as much\ninformation as possible for future bartering, perhaps.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Hart said, \"and it isn't information the Hans are giving in\nreturn, but some form of goods, or privilege. The trick would be to\nlocate the goods. I guess I'll have to make a personal trip around among\nthe Big Bosses.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\nThe Han City\n\n\nThis conversation set me thinking. All of the Han electrophone\ninter-communication had been an open record to the Americans for a good\nmany years, and the Hans were just finding it out. For centuries they\nhad not regarded us as any sort of a menace. Unquestionably it had never\noccurred to them to secrete their own records. Somewhere in Nu-yok or\nBah-flo, or possibly in Lo-Tan itself, the record of this traitorous\ntransaction would be more or less openly filed. If we could only get at\nit! I wondered if a raid might not be possible.\n\nBill Hearn and I talked it over with our Han-affairs Boss and his\nexperts. There ensued several days of research, in which the Han records\nof the entire decade were scanned and analyzed. In the end they picked\nout a mass of detail, and fitted it together into a very definite\npicture of the great central filing office of the Hans in Nu-yok, where\nthe entire mass of official records was kept, constantly available for\ninstant projectoscoping to any of the city's offices, and of the system\nby which the information was filed.\n\nThe attempt began to look feasible, though Hart instantly turned the\nidea down when I first presented it to him. It was unthinkable, he said.\nSheer suicide. But in the end I persuaded him.\n\n\"I will need,\" I said, \"Blash, who is thoroughly familiar with the Han\nlibrary system; Bert Gaunt, who for years has specialized on their\nmilitary offices; Bill Barker, the ray specialist, and the best swooper\npilot we have.\" _Swoopers_ are one-man and two-man ships, developed by\nthe Americans, with skeleton backbones of inertron (during the war\npainted green for invisibility against the green forests below) and\n\"bellies\" of clear ultron.\n\n\"That will be Mort Gibbons,\" said Hart. \"We've only got three swoopers\nleft, Tony, but I'll risk one of them if you and the others will\nvoluntarily risk your existences. But mind, I won't urge or order one of\nyou to go. I'll spread the word to every Plant Boss at once to give you\nanything and everything you need in the way of equipment.\"\n\nWhen I told Wilma of the plan, I expected her to raise violent and\ntearful objections, but she didn't. She was made of far sterner stuff\nthan the women of the 20th Century. Not that she couldn't weep as\ncopiously or be just as whimsical on occasion; but she wouldn't weep for\nthe same reasons.\n\nShe just gave me an unfathomable look, in which there seemed to be a bit\nof pride, and asked eagerly for the details. I confess I was somewhat\ndisappointed that she could so courageously risk my loss, even though I\nwas amazed at her fortitude. But later I was to learn how little I knew\nher then.\n\nWe were ready to slide off at dawn the next morning. I had kissed Wilma\ngood-bye at our camp, and after a final conference over our plans, we\nboarded our craft and gently glided away over the tree tops on a course,\nwhich, after crossing three routes of the Han ships, would take us out\nover the Atlantic, off the Jersey coast, whence we would come up on\nNu-yok from the ocean.\n\nTwice we had to nose down and lie motionless on the ground near a route\nwhile Han ships passed. Those were tense moments. Had the green back of\nour ship been observed, we would have been disintegrated in a second.\nBut it wasn't.\n\nOnce over the water, however, we climbed in a great spiral, ten miles in\ndiameter, until our altimeter registered ten miles. Here Gibbons shut\noff his rocket motor, and we floated, far above the level of the\nAtlantic liners, whose course was well to the north of us anyhow, and\nwaited for nightfall.\n\nThen Gibbons turned from his control long enough to grin at me.\n\n\"I have a surprise for you, Tony,\" he said, throwing back the lid of\nwhat I had supposed was a big supply case. And with a sigh of relief,\nWilma stepped out of the case.\n\n\"If you 'go into zero' (a common expression of the day for being\nannihilated by the disintegrator ray), you don't think I'm going to let\nyou go alone, do you, Tony? I couldn't believe my ears last night when\nyou spoke of going without me, until I realized that you are still five\nhundred years behind the times in lots of ways. Don't you know, dear\nheart, that you offered me the greatest insult a husband could give a\nwife? You didn't, of course.\"\n\nThe others, it seemed, had all been in on the secret, and now they would\nhave kidded me unmercifully, except that Wilma's eyes blazed\ndangerously.\n\nAt nightfall, we maneuvered to a position directly above the city. This\ntook some time and calculation on the part of Bill Barker, who explained\nto me that he had to determine our point by ultronic bearings. The\nslightest resort to an electronic instrument, he feared, might be\ndetected by our enemies' locators. In fact, we did not dare bring our\nswooper any lower than five miles for fear that its capacity might be\nreflected in their instruments.\n\nFinally, however, he succeeded in locating above the central tower of\nthe city.\n\n\"If my calculations are as much as ten feet off,\" he remarked with\nconfidence, \"I'll eat the tower. Now the rest is up to you, Mort. See\nwhat you can do to hold her steady. No--here, watch this indicator--the\nred beam, not the green one. See--if you keep it exactly centered on the\nneedle, you're O.K. The width of the beam represents seventeen feet. The\ntower platform is fifty feet square, so we've got a good margin to work\non.\"\n\nFor several moments we watched as Gibbons bent over his levers,\nconstantly adjusting them with deft touches of his fingers. After a bit\nof wavering, the beam remained centered on the needle.\n\n\"Now,\" I said, \"let's drop.\"\n\nI opened the trap and looked down, but quickly shut it again when I felt\nthe air rushing out of the ship into the rarefied atmosphere in a\ntorrent. Gibbons literally yelled a protest from his instrument board.\n\n\"I forgot,\" I mumbled. \"Silly of me. Of course, we'll have to drop out\nof compartment.\"\n\nThe compartment, to which I referred, was similar to those in some of\nthe 20th Century submarines. We all entered it. There was barely room\nfor us to stand, shoulder to shoulder. With some struggles, we got into\nour special air helmets and adjusted the pressure. At our signal,\nGibbons exhausted the air in the compartment, pumping it into the body\nof the ship, and as the little signal light flashed, Wilma threw open\nthe hatch.\n\nSetting the ultron-wire reel, I climbed through, and began to slide down\ngently.\n\nWe all had our belts on, of course, adjusted to a weight balance of but\na few ounces. And the five-mile reel of ultron wire that was to be our\nguide, was of gossamer fineness, though, anyway, I believe it would have\nlifted the full weight of the five of us, so strong and tough was this\ninvisible metal. As an extra precaution, since the wire was of the\npurest metal, and therefore totally invisible, even in daylight, we all\nhad our belts hooked on small rings that slid down the wire.\n\nI went down with the end of the wire. Wilma followed a few feet above\nme, then Barker, Gaunt and Blash. Gibbons, of course, stayed behind to\nhold the ship in position and control the paying out of the line. We all\nhad our ultrophones in place inside our air helmets, and so could\nconverse with one another and with Gibbons. But at Wilma's suggestion,\nalthough we would have liked to let the Big Boss listen in, we kept them\nadjusted to short-range work, for fear that those who had been clearing\nwith the Hans, and against whom we were on a raid for evidence, might\nalso pick up our conversation. We had no fear that the Hans would hear\nus. In fact, we had the added advantage that, even after we landed, we\ncould converse freely without danger of their hearing our voices through\nour air helmets.\n\nFor a while I could see nothing below but utter darkness. Then I\nrealized, from the feel of the air as much as from anything, that we\nwere sinking through a cloud layer. We passed through two more cloud\nlayers before anything was visible to us.\n\nThen there came under my gaze, about two miles below, one of the most\nbeautiful sights I have ever seen; the soft, yet brilliant, radiance of\nthe great Han city of Nu-yok. Every foot of its structural members\nseemed to glow with a wonderful incandescence, tower piled up on tower,\nand all built on the vast base-mass of the city, which, so I had been\ntold, sheered upward from the surface of the rivers to a height of 728\nlevels.\n\nThe city, I noticed with some surprise, did not cover anything like the\nsame area as the New York of the 20th Century. It occupied, as a matter\nof fact, only the lower half of Manhattan Island, with one section\nstraddling the East River, and spreading out sufficiently over what once\nhad been Brooklyn, to provide berths for the great liners and other air\ncraft.\n\nStraight beneath my feet was a tiny dark patch. It seemed the only spot\nin the entire city that was not aflame with radiance. This was the\ncentral tower, in the top floors of which were housed the vast library\nof record files and the main projectoscope plant.\n\n\"You can shoot the wire now,\" I ultrophoned Gibbons, and let go the\nlittle weighted knob. It dropped like a plummet, and we followed with\nconsiderable speed, but braking our descent with gloved hands\nsufficiently to see whether the knob, on which a faint light glowed as a\nsignal for ourselves, might be observed by any Han guard or night\nprowler. Apparently it was not, and we again shot down with accelerated\nspeed.\n\nWe landed on the roof of the tower without any mishap, and fortunately\nfor our plan, in darkness. Since there was nothing above it on which it\nwould have been worth while to shed illumination, or from which there\nwas any need to observe it, the Hans had neglected to light the tower\nroof, or indeed to occupy it at all. This was the reason we had selected\nit as our landing place.\n\nAs soon as Gibbons had our word, he extinguished the knob light, and the\nknob, as well as the wire, became totally invisible. At our ultrophoned\nword, he would light it again.\n\n\"No gun play now,\" I warned. \"Swords only, and then only if absolutely\nnecessary.\"\n\nClosely bunched, and treading as lightly as only inertron-belted people\ncould, we made our way cautiously through a door and down an inclined\nplane to the floor below, where Gaunt and Blash assured us the military\noffices were located.\n\nTwice Barker cautioned us to stop as we were about to pass in front of\nmirror-like \"windows\" in the passage wall, and flattening ourselves to\nthe floor, we crawled past them.\n\n\"Projectoscopes,\" he said. \"Probably on automatic record only, at this\ntime of night. Still, we don't want to leave any records for them to\nstudy after we're gone.\"\n\n\"Were you ever here before?\" I asked.\n\n\"No,\" he replied, \"but I haven't been studying their electrophone\ncommunications for seven years without being able to recognize these\nmachines when I run across them.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\nThe Fight in the Tower\n\n\nSo far we had not laid eyes on a Han. The tower seemed deserted. Blash\nand Gaunt, however, assured me that there would be at least one man on\n\"duty\" in the military offices, though he would probably be asleep, and\ntwo or three in the library proper and the projectoscope plant.\n\n\"We've got to put them out of commission,\" I said. \"Did you bring the\n'dope' cans, Wilma?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" she said, \"two for each. Here,\" and she distributed them.\n\nWe were now two levels below the roof, and at the point where we were to\nseparate.\n\nI did not want to let Wilma out of my sight, but it was necessary.\n\nAccording to our plan, Barker was to make his way to the projectoscope\nplant, Blash and I to the library, and Wilma and Gaunt to the military\noffice.\n\nBlash and I traversed a long corridor, and paused at the great arched\ndoorway of the library. Cautiously we peered in. Seated at three great\nswitchboards were library operatives. Occasionally one of them would\nreach lazily for a lever, or sleepily push a button, as little numbered\nlights winked on and off. They were answering calls for electrograph and\nviewplate records on all sorts of subjects from all sections of the\ncity.\n\nI apprised my companions of the situation.\n\n\"Better wait a bit,\" Blash added. \"The calls will lessen shortly.\"\n\nWilma reported an officer in the military office sound asleep.\n\n\"Give him the can, then,\" I said.\n\nBarker was to do nothing more than keep watch in the projectoscope\nplant, and a few moments later he reported himself well concealed, with\na splendid view of the floor.\n\n\"I think we can take a chance now,\" Blash said to me, and at my nod, he\nopened the lid of his dope can. Of course, the fumes did not affect us,\nthrough our helmets. They were absolutely without odor or visibility,\nand in a few seconds the librarians were unconscious. We stepped into\nthe room.\n\nThere ensued considerable cautious observation and experiment on the\npart of Gaunt, working from the military office, and Blash in the\nlibrary; while Wilma and I, with drawn swords and sharply attuned\nmicrophones, stood guard, and occasionally patrolled nearby corridors.\n\n\"I hear something approaching,\" Wilma said after a bit, with excitement\nin her voice. \"It's a soft, gliding sound.\"\n\n\"That's an elevator somewhere,\" Barker cut in from the projectoscope\nfloor. \"Can you locate it? I can't hear it.\"\n\n\"It's to the east of me,\" she replied.\n\n\"And to my west,\" said I, faintly catching it. \"It's between us, Wilma,\nand nearer you than me. Be careful. Have you got any information yet,\nBlash and Gaunt?\"\n\n\"Getting it now,\" one of them replied. \"Give us two minutes more.\"\n\n\"Keep at it then,\" I said. \"We'll guard.\"\n\nThe soft, gliding sound ceased.\n\n\"I think it's very close to me,\" Wilma almost whispered. \"Come closer,\nTony. I have a feeling something is going to happen. I've never known my\nnerves to get taut like this without reason.\"\n\nIn some alarm, I launched myself down the corridor in a great leap\ntoward the intersection whence I knew I could see her.\n\nIn the middle of my leap my ultrophone registered her gasp of alarm. The\nnext instant I glided to a stop at the intersection to see Wilma backing\ntoward the door of the military office, her sword red with blood, and an\ninert form on the corridor floor. Two other Hans were circling to either\nside of her with wicked-looking knives, while a third evidently a high\nofficer, judging by the resplendence of his garb tugged desperately to\nget an electrophone instrument out of a bulky pocket. If he ever gave\nthe alarm, there was no telling what might happen to us.\n\nI was at least seventy feet away, but I crouched low and sprang with\nevery bit of strength in my legs. It would be more correct to say that I\ndived, for I reached the fellow head on, with no attempt to draw my legs\nbeneath me.\n\nSome instinct must have warned him, for he turned suddenly as I hurtled\nclose to him. But by this time I had sunk close to the floor, and had\nstiffened myself rigidly, lest a dragging knee or foot might just\nprevent my reaching him. I brought my blade upward and over. It was a\nvicious slash that laid him open, bisecting him from groin to chin, and\nhis dead body toppled down on me, as I slid to a tangled stop.\n\nThe other two startled, turned. Wilma leaped at one and struck him down\nwith a side slash. I looked up at this instant, and the dazed fear on\nhis face at the length of her leap registered vividly. The Hans knew\nnothing of our inertron belts, it seemed, and these leaps and dives of\nours filled them with terror.\n\nAs I rose to my feet, a gory mess, Wilma, with a poise and speed which I\nfound time to admire even in this crisis, again leaped. This time she\ndove head first as I had done and, with a beautifully executed thrust,\nran the last Han through the throat.\n\nUncertainly, she scrambled to her feet, staggered queerly, and then sank\ngently prone on the corridor. She had fainted.\n\nAt this juncture, Blash and Gaunt reported with elation that they had\nthe record we wanted.\n\n\"Back to the roof, everybody!\" I ordered, as I picked Wilma up in my\narms. With her inertron belt, she felt as light as a feather.\n\nGaunt joined me at once from the military office, and at the\nintersection of the corridor, we came upon Blash waiting for us. Barker,\nhowever, was not in evidence.\n\n\"Where are you, Barker?\" I called.\n\n\"Go ahead,\" he replied. \"I'll be with you on the roof at once.\"\n\nWe came out in the open without any further mishap, and I instructed\nGibbons in the ship to light the knob on the end of the ultron wire. It\nflashed dully a few feet away from us. Just how he had maneuvered the\nship to keep our end of the line in position, without its swinging in a\ntremendous arc, I have never been able to understand. Had not the night\nbeen an unusually still one, he could not have checked the initial\npendulum-like movements. As it was, there was considerable air current\nat certain of the levels, and in different directions too. But Gibbons\nwas an expert of rare ability and sensitivity in the handling of a\nrocket ship, and he managed, with the aid of his delicate instruments,\nto sense the drifts almost before they affected the fine ultron wire,\nand to neutralize them with little shifts in the position of the ship.\n\nBlash and Gaunt fastened their rings to the wire, and I hooked my own\nand Wilma's on, too. But on looking around, I found Barker was still\nmissing.\n\n\"Barker, come!\" I called. \"We're waiting.\"\n\n\"Coming!\" he replied, and indeed, at that instant, his figure appeared\nup the ramp. He chuckled as he fastened his ring to the wire, and said\nsomething about a little surprise he had left for the Hans.\n\n\"Don't reel in the wire more than a few hundred feet,\" I instructed\nGibbons. \"It will take too long to wind it in. We'll float up, and when\nwe're aboard, we can drop it.\"\n\nIn order to float up, we had to dispense with a pound or two of weight\napiece. We hurled our swords from us, and kicked off our shoes as\nGibbons reeled up the line a bit, and then letting go of the wire, began\nto hum upward on our rings with increasing velocity.\n\nThe rush of air brought Wilma to, and I hastily explained to her that we\nhad been successful. Receding far below us now, I could see our dully\nshining knob swinging to and fro in an ever widening arc, as it crossed\nand recrossed the black square of the tower roof. As an extra\nprecaution, I ordered Gibbons to shut off the light, and to show one\nfrom the belly of the ship, for so great was our speed now, that I began\nto fear we would have difficulty in checking ourselves. We were\nliterally falling upward, and with terrific acceleration.\n\nFortunately, we had several minutes in which to solve this difficulty,\nwhich none of us, strangely enough, had foreseen. It was Gibbons who\nfound the answer.\n\n\"You'll be all right if all of you grab the wire tight when I give the\nword,\" he said. \"First I'll start reeling it in at full speed. You won't\nget much of a jar, and then I'll decrease its speed again gradually, and\nits weight will hold you back. Are you ready? One--two--three!\"\n\nWe all grabbed tightly with our gloved hands as he gave the word. We\nmust have been rising a good bit faster than he figured, however, for it\nwrenched our arms considerably, and the maneuver set up a sickening\npendulum motion.\n\nFor a while all we could do was swing there in an arc that may have been\na quarter of a mile across, about three and a half miles above the city,\nand still more than a mile from our ship.\n\nGibbons skilfully took up the slack as our momentum pulled up the line.\nThen at last we had ourselves under control again, and continued our\nupward journey, checking our speed somewhat with our gloves.\n\nThere was not one of us who did not breathe a big sigh of relief when we\nscrambled through the hatch safely into the ship again, cast off the\nultron line and slammed the trap shut.\n\nLittle realizing that we had a still more terrible experience to go\nthrough, we discussed the information Blash and Gaunt had between them\nextracted from the Han records, and the advisability of ultrophoning\nHart at once.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nThe Walls of Hell\n\n\nThe traitors were, it seemed, a degenerate gang of Americans, located a\nfew miles north of Nu-yok on the wooded banks of the Hudson, the\nSinsings. They had exchanged scraps of information to the Hans in return\nfor several old repellor-ray machines, and the privilege of tuning in on\nthe Han electronic power broadcast for their operation, provided their\nships agreed to subject themselves to the orders of the Han traffic\noffice, while aloft.\n\nThe rest wanted to ultrophone their news at once, since there was always\ndanger that we might never get back to the gang with it.\n\nI objected, however. The Sinsings would be likely to pick up our\nmessage. Even if we used the directional projector, they might have\nscouts out to the west and south in the big inter-gang stretches of\ncountry. They would flee to Nu-yok and escape the punishment they\nmerited. It seemed to be vitally important that they should not, for the\nsake of example to other weak groups among the American gangs, as well\nas to prevent a crisis in which they might clear more vital information\nto the enemy.\n\n\"Out to sea again,\" I ordered Gibbons. \"They'll be less likely to look\nfor us in that direction.\"\n\n\"Easy, Boss, easy,\" he replied. \"Wait until we get up a mile or two\nmore. They must have discovered evidences of our raid by now, and their\ndis-ray wall may go in operation any moment.\"\n\nEven as he spoke, the ship lurched downward and to one side.\n\n\"There it is!\" he shouted. \"Hang on, everybody. We're going to nose\nstraight up!\" And he flipped the rocket-motor control wide open.\n\nLooking through one of the rear ports, I could see a nebulous, luminous\nring, and on all sides the atmosphere took on a faint iridescence.\n\nWe were almost over the destructive range of the disintegrator-ray wall,\na hollow cylinder of annihilation shooting upward from a solid ring of\ngenerators surrounding the city. It was the main defense system of the\nHans, which had never been used except in periodic tests. They may or\nmay not have suspected that an American rocket ship was within the\ncylinder; probably they had turned on their generators more as a\nprecaution to prevent any reaching a position above the city.\n\nBut even at our present great height, we were in great danger. It was a\nquestion how much we might have been harmed by the rays themselves, for\ntheir effective range was not much more than seven or eight miles. The\ngreater danger lay in the terrific downward rush of air within the\ncylinder to replace that which was being burned into nothingness by the\ncontinual play of the disintegrators. The air fell into the cylinder\nwith the force of a gale. It would be rushing toward the wall from the\noutside with terrific force also, but, naturally, the effect was\nintensified on the interior.\n\nOur ship vibrated and trembled. We had only one chance of escape--to\nfight our way well above the current. To drift down with it meant\nultimately, and inevitably, to be sucked into the destruction wall at\nsome lower level.\n\nBut very gradually and jerkily our upward movement, as shown on the\nindicators, began to increase, and after an hour of desperate struggle\nwe were free of the maelstrom and into the rarefied upper levels. The\nterror beneath us was now invisible through several layers of cloud\nformations.\n\nGibbons brought the ship back to an even keel, and drove her eastward\ninto one of the most brilliantly gorgeous sunrises I have ever seen.\n\nWe described a great circle to the south and west, in a long easy dive,\nfor he had cut out his rocket motors to save them as much as possible.\nWe had drawn terrifically on their fuel reserves in our battle with the\nelements. For the moment, the atmosphere below cleared, and we could see\nthe Jersey coast far beneath, like a great map.\n\n\"We're not through yet,\" remarked Gibbons suddenly, pointing at his\nperiscope, and adjusting it to telescopic focus. \"A Han ship, and a\n'drop ship' at that--and he's seen us. If he whips that beam of his on\nus, we're done.\"\n\nI gazed, fascinated, at the viewplate. What I saw was a cigar-shaped\nship not dissimilar to our own in design, and from the proportional size\nof its ports, of about the same size as our swoopers. We learned later\nthat they carried crews, for the most part of not more than three or\nfour men. They had streamline hulls and tails that embodied\nuniversal-jointed double fish-tail rudders. In operation they rose to\ngreat heights on their powerful repellor rays, then gathered speed\neither by a straight nose dive, or an inclined dive in which they\nsometimes used the repellor ray slanted at a sharp angle. He was already\nabove us, though several miles to the north. He could, of course, try to\nget on our tail and \"spear\" us with his beam as he dropped at us from a\ngreat height.\n\nSuddenly his beam blazed forth in a blinding flash, whipping downward\nslowly to our right. He went through a peculiar corkscrew-like\nevolution, evidently maneuvering to bring his beam to bear on us with a\nspiral motion.\n\nGibbons instantly sent our ship into a series of evolutions that must\nhave looked like those of a frightened hen. Alternately, he used the\nforward and the reverse rocket blasts, and in varying degree. We\nfluttered, we shot suddenly to right and left, and dropped like a\nplummet in uncertain movements. But all the time the Han scout dropped\ntoward us, determinedly whipping the air around us with his beam. Once\nit sliced across beneath us, not more than a hundred feet, and we\ndropped with a jar into the pocket formed by the destruction of the air.\n\nHe had dropped to within a mile of us, and was coming with the speed of\na projectile, when the end came. Gibbons always swore it was sheer luck.\nMaybe it was, but I like pilots who are lucky that way.\n\nIn the midst of a dizzy, fluttering maneuver of our own, with the Han\nship enlarging to our gaze with terrifying rapidity, and its beam slowly\nslicing toward us in what looked like certain destruction within the\nsecond, I saw Gibbons' fingers flick at the lever of his rocket gun and\na split second later the Han ship flew apart like a clay pigeon.\n\nWe staggered, and fluttered crazily for several moments while Gibbons\nstruggled to bring our ship into balance, and a section of about four\nsquare feet in the side of the ship near the stern slowly crumbled like\nrusted metal. His beam actually had touched us, but our explosive rocket\nhad got him a thousandth of a second sooner.\n\nPart of our rudder had been annihilated, and our motor damaged. But we\nwere able to swoop gently back across Jersey, fortunately crossing the\nship lanes without sighting any more Han craft, and finally settling to\nrest in the little glade beneath the trees, near Hart's camp.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\nThe New Boss\n\n\nWe had ultrophoned our arrival and the Big Boss himself, surrounded by\nthe Council, was on hand to welcome us and learn our news. In turn we\nwere informed that during the night a band of raiding Bad Bloods,\ndisguised under the insignia of the Altoonas, a gang some distance to\nthe west of us, had destroyed several of our camps before our people had\nrallied and driven them off. Their purpose, evidently, had been to\nembroil us with the Altoonas, but fortunately, one of our exchanges\nrecognized the Bad Blood leader, who had been slain.\n\nThe Big Boss had mobilized the full raiding force of the Gang, and was\non the point of heading an expedition for the extermination of the Bad\nBloods.\n\nI looked around the grim circle of the sub-bosses, and realized the fate\nof America, at this moment, lay in their hands. Their temper demanded\nthe immediate expenditure of our full effort in revenging ourselves for\nthis raid. But the strategic exigencies, to my mind, quite clearly\ndemanded the instant and absolute extermination of the Sinsings. It\nmight be only a matter of hours, for all we knew, before these degraded\npeople would barter clues to the American ultronic secrets to the Hans.\n\n\"How large a force have we?\" I asked Hart.\n\n\"Every man and maid who can be spared,\" he replied. \"That gives us seven\nhundred married and unmarried men, and three hundred girls, more than\nthe entire Bad Blood Gang. Every one is equipped with belts,\nultrophones, rocket guns and swords, and all fighting mad.\"\n\nI meditated how I might put the matter to these determined men, and was\nvaguely conscious that they were awaiting my words.\n\nFinally I began to speak. I do not remember to this day just what I\nsaid. I talked calmly, with due regard for their passion, but with deep\nconviction. I went over the information we had collected, point by\npoint, building my case logically, and painting a lurid picture of the\ndanger impending in that half-alliance between the Sinsings and the Hans\nof Nu-yok. I became impassioned, culminating, I believe, with a vow to\nproceed single-handed against the hereditary enemies of our race, \"if\nthe Wyomings were blindly set on placing a gang feud ahead of honor and\nduty and the hopes of all America.\"\n\nAs I concluded, a great calm came over me, as of one detached. I had\nfelt much the same way during several crises in the First World War. I\ngazed from face to face, striving to read their expressions, and in a\nmood to make good my threat without any further heroics, if the decision\nwas against me.\n\nBut it was Hart who sensed the temper of the Council more quickly than I\ndid, and looked beyond it into the future.\n\nHe arose from the tree trunk on which he had been sitting.\n\n\"That settles it,\" he said, looking around the ring. \"I have felt this\nthing coming on for some time now. I'm sure the Council agrees with me\nthat there is among us a man more capable than I, to boss the Wyoming\nGang, despite his handicap of having had all too short a time in which\nto familiarize himself with our modern ways and facilities. Whatever I\ncan do to support his effective leadership, at any cost, I pledge myself\nto do.\"\n\nAs he concluded, he advanced to where I stood, and taking from his head\nthe green-crested helmet that constituted his badge of office, to my\nsurprise he placed it in my mechanically extended hand.\n\nThe roar of approval that went up from the Council members left me\ndazed. Somebody ultrophoned the news to the rest of the Gang, and even\nthough the earflaps of my helmet were turned up, I could hear the cheers\nwith which my invisible followers greeted me, from near and distant\nhillsides, camps and plants.\n\nMy first move was to make sure that the Phone Boss, in communicating\nthis news to the members of the Gang, had not re-broadcast my talk nor\nmentioned my plan of shifting the attack from the Bad Bloods to the\nSinsings. I was relieved by his assurance that he had not, for it would\nhave wrecked the whole plan. Everything depended upon our ability to\nsurprise the Sinsings.\n\nSo I pledged the Council and my companions to secrecy, and allowed it to\nbe believed that we were about to take to the air and the trees against\nthe Bad Bloods.\n\nThat outfit must have been badly scared, the way they were \"burning\" the\nether with ultrophone alibis and propaganda for the benefit of the more\ndistant gangs. It was their old game, and the only method by which they\nhad avoided extermination long ago from their immediate neighbors--these\nappeals to the spirit of American brotherhood, addressed to gangs too\nfar away to have had the sort of experience with them that had fallen to\nour lot.\n\nI chuckled. Here was another good reason for the shift in my plans. Were\nwe actually to undertake the exterminations of the Bad Bloods at once,\nit would have been a hard job to convince some of the gangs that we had\nnot been precipitate and unjustified. Jealousies and prejudices existed.\nThere were gangs which would give the benefit of the doubt to the Bad\nBloods, rather than to ourselves, and the issue was now hopelessly\nbeclouded with the clever lies that were being broadcast in an unceasing\nstream.\n\nBut the extermination of the Sinsings would be another thing. In the\nfirst place, there would be no warning of our action until it was all\nover, I hoped. In the second place, we would have indisputable proof, in\nthe form of their rep-ray ships and other paraphernalia, of their\ntraffic with the Hans; and the state of American prejudice, at the time\nof which I write held trafficking with the Hans a far more heinous thing\nthan even a vicious gang feud.\n\nI called an executive session of the Council at once. I wanted to\ninventory our military resources.\n\nI created a new office on the spot, that of \"Control Boss,\" and\nappointed Ned Garlin to the post, turning over his former responsibility\nas Plants Boss to his assistant. I needed someone, I felt, to tie in the\nrecords of the various functional activities of the campaign, and take\nover from me the task of keeping the records of them up to the minute.\n\nI received reports from the bosses of the ultrophone unit, and those of\nfood, transportation, fighting gear, chemistry, electronic activity and\nelectrophone intelligence, ultroscopes, air patrol and contact guard.\n\nMy ideas for the campaign, of course, were somewhat tinged with my 20th\nCentury experience, and I found myself faced with the task of working\nout a staff organization that was a composite of the best and most\neasily applied principles of business and military efficiency, as I knew\nthem from the viewpoint of immediate practicality.\n\nWhat I wanted was an organization that would be specialized,\nfunctionally, not as that indicated above, but from the angles of:\nintelligence as to the Sinsings' activities; intelligence as to Han\nactivities; perfection of communication with my own units; co-operation\nof field command; and perfect mobilization of emergency supplies and\nresources.\n\nIt took several hours of hard work with the Council to map out the plan.\nFirst we assigned functional experts and equipment to each \"Division\" in\naccordance with its needs. Then these in turn were reassigned by the new\nDivision Bosses to the Field Commands as needed, or as Independent or\nHeadquarters Units. The two intelligence divisions were named the White\nand the Yellow, indicating that one specialized on the American enemy\nand the other on the Mongolians.\n\nThe division in charge of our own communications, the assignment of\nultrophone frequencies and strengths, and the maintenance of operators\nand equipment, I called \"Communications.\"\n\nI named Bill Hearn to the post of Field Boss, in charge of the main or\nundetached fighting units, and to the Resources Division, I assigned all\nresponsibility for what few aircraft we had; and all transportation and\nsupply problems, I assigned to \"Resources.\" The functional bosses stayed\nwith this division.\n\nWe finally completed our organization with the assignment of liaison\nrepresentatives among the various divisions as needed.\n\nThus I had a \"Headquarters Staff\" composed of the Division Bosses who\nreported directly to Ned Garlin as Control Boss, or to Wilma as my\npersonal assistant. And each of the Division Bosses had a small staff of\nhis own.\n\nIn the final summing up of our personnel and resources, I found we had\nroughly a thousand \"troops,\" of whom some three hundred and fifty were,\nin what I called the Service Divisions, the rest being in Bill Hearn's\nField Division. This latter number, however, was cut down somewhat by\nthe assignment of numerous small units to detached service. Altogether,\nthe actual available fighting force, I figured, would number about five\nhundred, by the time we actually went into action.\n\nWe had only six small swoopers, but I had an ingenious plan in my mind,\nas the result of our little raid on Nu-yok, that would make this\nsufficient, since the reserves of inertron blocks were larger than I\nexpected to find them. The Resources Division, by packing its supply\ncases a bit tight, or by slipping in extra blocks of inertron, was able\nto reduce each to a weight of a few ounces. These easily could be\nfloated and towed by the swoopers in any quantity. Hitched to ultron\nlines, it would be a virtual impossibility for them to break loose.\n\nThe entire personnel, of course, was supplied with jumpers, and if each\nman and girl was careful to adjust balances properly, the entire number\ncould also be towed along through the air, grasping wires of ultron,\nswinging below the swoopers, or stringing out behind them.\n\nThere would be nothing tiring about this, because the strain would be no\ngreater than that of carrying a one or two pound weight in the hand,\nexcept for air friction at high speeds. But to make doubly sure that we\nshould lose none of our personnel, I gave strict orders that the belts\nand tow lines should be equipped with rings and hooks.\n\nSo great was the efficiency of the fundamental organization and\ndiscipline of the Gang, that we got under way at nightfall.\n\nOne by one the swoopers eased into the air, each followed by its long\ntrain or \"kite-tail\" of humanity and supply cases hanging lightly from\nits tow line. For convenience, the tow lines were made of an alloy of\nultron which, unlike the metal itself, is visible.\n\nAt first these \"tails\" hung downward, but as the ships swung into\nformation and headed eastward toward the Bad Blood territory, gathering\nspeed, they began to string out behind. And swinging low from each ship\non heavily weighted lines, ultroscope, ultrophone, and straight-vision\nobservers keenly scanned the countryside, while intelligence men in the\nswoopers above bent over their instrument boards and viewplates.\n\nLeaving Control Boss Ned Garlin temporarily in charge of affairs, Wilma\nand I dropped a weighted line from our ship, and slid down about half\nway to the under lookouts, that is to say, about a thousand feet. The\nsensation of floating swiftly through the air like this, in the absolute\nsecurity of one's confidence in the inertron belt, was one of\nnever-ending delight to me.\n\nWe reascended into the swooper as the expedition approached the\nterritory of the Bad Bloods, and directed the preparations for the\nbombardment. It was part of my plan to appear to carry out the attack as\noriginally planned.\n\nAbout fifteen miles from their camps our ships came to a halt and\nmaintained their positions for a while with the idling blasts of their\nrocket motors, to give the ultroscope operators a chance to make a\nthorough examination of the territory below us, for it was very\nimportant that this next step in our program should be carried out with\nall secrecy.\n\nAt length they reported the ground below us entirely clear of any\nappearance of human occupation, and a gun unit of long-range specialists\nwas lowered with a dozen rocket guns, equipped with special automatic\ndevices that the Resources Division had developed at my request, a few\nhours before our departure. These were aiming and timing devices. After\ncalculating the range, elevation and rocket charges carefully, the guns\nwere left, concealed in a ravine, and the men were hauled up into the\nship again. At the predetermined hour, those unmanned rocket guns would\nbegin automatically to bombard the Bad Bloods' hillsides, shifting their\naim and elevation slightly with each shot, as did many of our artillery\npieces in the First World War.\n\nIn the meantime, we turned south about twenty miles, and grounded,\nwaiting for the bombardment to begin before we attempted to sneak across\nthe Han ship lane. I was relying for security on the distraction that\nthe bombardment might furnish the Han observers.\n\nIt was tense work waiting, but the affair went through as planned, our\nsquadron drifting across the route high enough to enable the ships'\ntails of troops and supply cases to clear the ground.\n\nIn crossing the second ship route, out along the Beaches of Jersey, we\nwere not so successful in escaping observation. A Han ship came speeding\nalong at a very low elevation. We caught it on our electronic location\nand direction finders, and also located it with our ultroscopes, but it\ncame so fast and so low that I thought it best to remain where we had\ngrounded the second time, and lie quiet, rather than get under way and\ncross in front of it.\n\nThe point was this. While the Hans had no such devices as our\nultroscopes, with which we could see in the dark (within certain\nlimitations of course), and their electronic instruments would be\nvirtually useless in uncovering our presence, since all but natural\nelectronic activities were carefully eliminated from our apparatus,\nexcept electrophone receivers (which are not easily spotted), the Hans\ndid have some very highly sensitive sound devices which operated with\ngreat efficiency in calm weather, so far as sounds emanating from the\nair were concerned. But the \"ground roar\" greatly confused their use of\nthese instruments in the location of specific sounds floating up from\nthe surface of the earth.\n\nThis ship must have caught some slight noise of ours, however, in its\nsensitive instruments, for we heard its electronic devices go into play,\nand picked up the routine report of the noise to its Base Ship\nCommander. But from the nature of the conversation, I judged they had\nnot identified it, and were, in fact, more curious about the detonations\nthey were picking up now from the Bad Blood lands some sixty miles or so\nto the west.\n\nImmediately after this ship had shot by, we took the air again, and\nfollowing much the same route that I had taken the previous night,\nclimbed in a long semi-circle out over the ocean, swung toward the north\nand finally the west. We set our course, however, for the Sinsings' land\nnorth of Nu-yok, instead of for the city itself.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\nThe Finger of Doom\n\n\nAs we crossed the Hudson River, a few miles north of the city, we\ndropped several units of the Yellow Intelligence Division, with full\ninstrumental equipment. Their apparatus cases were nicely balanced at\nonly a few ounces weight each, and the men used their chute capes to\nease their drops.\n\nWe recrossed the river a little distance above and began dropping White\nIntelligence units and a few long and short range gun units. Then we\nheld our position until we began to get reports. Gradually we ringed the\nterritory of the Sinsings, our observation units working busily and\npatiently at their locators and scopes, both aloft and aground, until\nGarlin finally turned to me with the remark:\n\n\"The map circle is complete now, Boss. We've got clear locations all the\nway around them.\"\n\n\"Let me see it,\" I replied, and studied the illuminated viewplate map,\nwith its little overlapping circles of light that indicated spots proved\nclear of the enemy by ultroscopic observation.\n\nI nodded to Bill Hearn. \"Go ahead now, Hearn,\" I said, \"and place your\nbarrage men.\"\n\nHe spoke into his ultrophone, and three of the ships began to glide in a\nwide ring around the enemy territory. Every few seconds, at the word\nfrom his Unit Boss, a gunner would drop off the wire, and slipping the\nclasp of his chute cape, drift down into the darkness below.\n\nBill formed two lines, parallel to and facing the river, and enclosing\nthe entire territory of the enemy between them. Above and below,\nstraddling the river, were two defensive lines. These latter were merely\nto hold their positions. The others were to close in toward each other,\npushing a high-explosive barrage five miles ahead of them. When the two\nbarrages met, both lines were to switch to short-vision-range barrage\nand continue to close in on any of the enemy who might have drifted\nthrough the previous curtain of fire.\n\nIn the meantime Bill kept his reserves, a picked corps of a hundred men\n(the same that had accompanied Hart and myself in our fight with the Han\nsquadron) in the air, divided about equally among the \"kite-tails\" of\nfour ships.\n\nA final roll call, by units, companies, divisions and functions,\nestablished the fact that all our forces were in position. No Han\nactivity was reported, and no Han broadcasts indicated any suspicion of\nour expedition. Nor was there any indication that the Sinsings had any\nknowledge of the fate in store for them. The idling of rep-ray\ngenerators was reported from the center of their camp, obviously those\nof the ships the Hans had given them--the price of their treason to\ntheir race.\n\nAgain I gave the word, and Hearn passed on the order to his\nsubordinates.\n\nFar below us, and several miles to the right and left, the two barrage\nlines made their appearance. From the great height to which we had\nrisen, they appeared like lines of brilliant, winking lights, and the\ndetonations were muffled by the distances into a sort of rumbling,\ndistant thunder. Hearn and his assistants were very busy: measuring,\ncalculating, and snapping out ultrophone orders to unit commanders that\nresulted in the straightening of lines and the closing of gaps in the\nbarrage.\n\nThe White Division Boss reported the utmost confusion in the Sinsing\norganization. They were, as might be expected, an inefficient, loosely\ndisciplined gang, and repeated broadcasts for help to neighboring gangs.\nIgnoring the fact that the Mongolians had not used explosives for many\ngenerations, they nevertheless jumped at the conclusion that they were\nbeing raided by the Hans. Their frantic broadcasts persisted in this\nthought, despite the nervous electrophonic inquiries of the Hans\nthemselves, to whom the sound of the battle was evidently audible, and\nwho were trying to locate the trouble.\n\nAt this point, the swooper I had sent south toward the city went into\naction as a diversion, to keep the Hans at home. Its \"kite-tail\" loaded\nwith long-range gunners, using the most highly explosive rockets we had,\nhung invisible in the darkness of the sky and bombarded the city from a\ndistance of about five miles. With an entire city to shoot at, and the\nobject of creating as much commotion therein as possible, regardless of\nactual damage, the gunners had no difficulty in hitting the mark. I\ncould see the glow of the city and the stabbing flashes of exploding\nrockets. In the end, the Hans, uncertain as to what was going on, fell\nback on a defensive policy, and shot their \"hell cylinder,\" or wall of\nupturned disintegrator rays into operation. That, of course, ended our\nbombardment of them. The rays were a perfect defense, disintegrating our\nrockets as they were reached.\n\nIf they had not sent out ships before turning on the rays, and if they\nhad none within sufficient radius already in the air, all would be well.\n\nI queried Garlin on this, but he assured me Yellow Intelligence reported\nno indications of Han ships nearer than 800 miles. This would probably\ngive us a free hand for a while, since most of their instruments\nrecorded only imperfectly or not at all, through the death wall.\n\nRequisitioning one of the viewplates of the headquarters ship, and the\nservices of an expert operator, I instructed him to focus on our lines\nbelow. I wanted a close-up of the men in action.\n\nHe began to manipulate his controls and chaotic shadows moved rapidly\nacross the plate, fading in and out of focus, until he reached an\nadjustment that gave me a picture of the forest floor, apparently 100\nfeet wide, with the intervening branches and foliage of the trees\nappearing like shadows that melted into reality a few feet above the\nground.\n\nI watched one man setting up his long-gun with skillful speed. His lips\npursed slightly as though he were whistling, as he adjusted the tall\ntripod on which the long tube was balanced. Swiftly he twirled the knobs\ncontrolling the aim and elevation of his piece. Then, lifting a belt of\nammunition from the big box, which itself looked heavy enough to break\ndown the spindly tripod, he inserted the end of it in the lock of his\ntube and touched the proper combination of buttons.\n\nThen he stepped aside, and occupied himself with peering carefully\nthrough the trees ahead. Not even a tremor shook the tube, but I knew\nthat at intervals of something less than a second, it was discharging\nsmall projectiles which, traveling under their own continuously reduced\npower, were arching into the air, to fall precisely five miles ahead and\nexplode with the force of eight-inch shells, such as we used in the\nFirst World War.\n\nAnother gunner, fifty feet to the right of him, waved a hand and called\nout something to him. Then, picking up his own tube and tripod, he\ngauged the distance between the trees ahead of him, and the height of\ntheir lowest branches, and bending forward a bit, flexed his muscles and\nleaped lightly, some twenty-five feet. Another leap took him another\ntwenty feet or so, where he began to set up his piece.\n\nI ordered my observer then to switch to the barrage itself. He got a\nclose focus on it, but this showed little except a continuous series of\nblinding flashes, which, from the viewplate, lit up the entire interior\nof the ship. An eight-hundred-foot focus proved better. I had thought\nthat some of our French and American artillery of the 20th Century had\nachieved the ultimate in mathematical precision of fire, but I had never\nseen anything to equal the accuracy of that line of terrific explosions\nas it moved steadily forward, mowing down trees as a scythe cuts grass\n(or used to 500 years ago), literally churning up the earth and the\nsplintered, blasted remains of the forest giants, to a depth of from ten\nto twenty feet.\n\nBy now the two curtains of fire were nearing each other, lines of\nvibrant, shimmering, continuous, brilliant destruction, inevitably\nsqueezing the panic-stricken Sinsings between them.\n\nEven as I watched, a group of them, who had been making a futile effort\nto get their three rep-ray machines into the air, abandoned their\nefforts, and rushed forth into the milling mob.\n\nI queried the Control Boss sharply on the futility of this attempt of\ntheirs, and learned that the Hans, apparently in doubt as to what was\ngoing on, had continued to \"play safe,\" and broken off their power\nbroadcast, after ordering all their own ships east of the Alleghenies to\nthe ground, for fear these ships they had traded to the Sinsings might\nbe used against them.\n\nAgain I turned to my viewplate, which was still focussed on the central\nsection of the Sinsing works. The confusion of the traitors was entirely\nthat of fear, for our barrage had not yet reached them.\n\nSome of them set up their long-guns and fired at random over the barrage\nline, then gave it up. They realized that they had no target to shoot\nat, no way of knowing whether our gunners were a few hundred feet or\nseveral miles beyond it.\n\nTheir ultrophone men, of whom they did not have many, stood around in\ntense attitudes, their helmet phones strapped around their ears,\nnervously fingering the tuning controls at their belts. Unquestionably\nthey must have located some of our frequencies, and overheard many of\nour reports and orders. But they were confused and disorganized. If they\nhad an Ultrophone Boss they evidently were not reporting to him in an\norganized way.\n\nThey were beginning to draw back now before our advancing fire. With\nintermittent desperation, they began to shoot over our barrage again,\nand the explosions of their rockets flashed at widely scattered points\nbeyond. A few took distance \"pot shots.\"\n\nOddly enough it was our own forces that suffered the first casualties in\nthe battle. Some of these distance shots by chance registered hits,\nwhile our men were under strict orders not to exceed their barrage\ndistances.\n\nSeen upon the ultroscope viewplate, the battle looked as though it were\nbeing fought in daylight, perhaps on a cloudy day, while the explosions\nof the rockets appeared as flashes of extra brilliance.\n\nThe two barrage lines were not more than five hundred feet apart when\nthe Sinsings resorted to tactics we had not foreseen. We noticed first\nthat they began to lighten themselves by throwing away extra equipment.\nA few of them in their excitement threw away too much, and shot suddenly\ninto the air. Then a scattering few floated up gently, followed by\nincreasing numbers, while still others, preserving a weight balance,\njumped toward the closing barrages and leaped high, hoping to clear\nthem. Some succeeded. We saw others blown about like leaves in a\nwindstorm, to crumple and drift slowly down, or else to fall into the\nbarrage, their belts blown from their bodies.\n\nHowever, it was not part of our plan to allow a single one of them to\nescape and find his way to the Hans. I quickly passed the word to Bill\nHearn to have the alternate men in his line raise their barrages and\nheard him bark out a mathematical formula to the Unit Bosses.\n\nWe backed off our ships as the explosions climbed into the air in\nstagger formation until they reached a height of three miles. I don't\nbelieve any of the Sinsings who tried to float away to freedom\nsucceeded.\n\nBut we did know later, that a few who leaped the barrage got away and\nultimately reached Nu-yok.\n\nIt was those who managed to jump the barrage who gave us the most\ntrouble. With half of our long-guns turned aloft, I foresaw we would not\nhave enough to establish successive ground barrages and so ordered the\nbarrage back two miles, from which positions our \"curtains\" began to\nclose in again, this time, however, gauged to explode, not on contact,\nbut thirty feet in the air. This left little chance for the Sinsings to\nleap either over or under it.\n\nGradually, the two barrages approached each other until they finally\nmet, and in the grey dawn the battle ended.\n\nOur own casualties amounted to forty-seven men in the ground forces,\neighteen of whom had been slain in hand to hand fighting with the few of\nthe enemy who managed to reach our lines, and sixty-two in the crew and\n\"kite-tail\" force of swooper No. 4, which had been located by one of\nthe enemy's ultroscopes and brought down with long-gun fire.\n\nSince nearly every member of the Sinsing Gang had, so far as we knew,\nbeen killed, we considered the raid a great success.\n\nIt had, however, a far greater significance than this. To all of us who\ntook part in the expedition, the effectiveness of our barrage tactics\ndefinitely established a confidence in our ability to overcome the Hans.\n\nAs I pointed out to Wilma:\n\n\"It has been my belief all along, dear, that the American explosive\nrocket is a far more efficient weapon than the disintegrator ray of the\nHans, once we can train all our gangs to use it systematically and in\nco-ordinated fashion. As a weapon in the hands of a single individual,\nshooting at a mark in direct line of vision, the rocket-gun is inferior\nin destructive power to the dis ray, except as its range may be a little\ngreater. The trouble is that to date it has been used only as we used\nour rifles and shot guns in the 20th Century. The possibilities of its\nuse as artillery, in laying barrages that advance along the ground, or\nclimb into the air, are tremendous.\n\n\"The dis ray inevitably reveals its source of emanation. The rocket gun\ndoes not. The dis ray can reach its target only in a straight line. The\nrocket may be made to travel in an arc, over intervening obstacles, to\nan unseen target.\n\n\"Nor must we forget that our ultronists now are promising us a perfect\nshield against the dis ray in inertron.\"\n\n\"I tremble though, Tony dear, when I think of the horrors that are ahead\nof us. The Hans are clever. They will develop defenses against our new\ntactics. And they are sure to mass against us not only the full force of\ntheir power in America, but the united forces of the World Empire. They\nare a cowardly race in one sense, but clever as the very Devils in Hell,\nand inheritors of a calm, ruthless, vicious persistency.\"\n\n\"Nevertheless,\" I prophesied, \"the Finger of Doom points squarely at\nthem today, and unless you and I are killed in the struggle, we shall\nlive to see America blast the Yellow Blight from the face of the Earth.\"\n\n\nTHE END.\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber's Note:\n\n    This etext was produced from _Amazing Stories_ August 1928.\n    Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.\n    copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and\n    typographical errors have been corrected without note.\n\n\n\n\n\nEnd of Project Gutenberg's Armageddon--2419 A.D., by Philip Francis Nowlan\n\nNow, answer the question based on the story asconcisely as you can, using a single phrase if possible. Do not provide any explanation.\n\nQuestion: Why do the bosses of Wilma's gang believe that Anthony Rogers will be useful to them in the current conflict?\n\nAnswer:"}