Dr. Orville Reitman sat in his chair and wondered what was going on. His instruments told him something was in the air. Even the barometer had dropped under the average line he had taped on it.

He had never seen an effect this big. The last time that was even close was the Brighton Beach Invasion five years ago. He had set up a massive livewire to fry everything trying to make it out of the water.

Reitman watched as the needles and graphs returned to normal. He rubbed his temple as he thought about options and reasons for what he had watched.

He supposed something was trying to cross over into New York without using a natural tear in the local space-time zone. Would it keep trying, or would it back off and go somewhere else?

The doctor looked at the technological web he had created in his office. Twenty different screens carried readings from twenty different monitors on buildings all over Manhattan. They covered most of the five boroughs. Screens dedicated to cameras looking at the areas covered by the monitor stations sat next to appropriate monitor screens. He had a small server farm to record everything and give him real time observations wherever he was in the city.

He looked at the barometer on the wall. The needle hovered just below the line. The pressure had receded but it hadn't stopped affecting the air.

Whatever was out there hadn't moved away. It still waited just across the line.

What did he want to do about it?

He knew some people. Maybe he should call them and see if they had felt what his instruments had. Maybe he could get some help tracking down the source and shutting down things before they got too serious.

The last thing he wanted was another Black Medallion Invasion. He couldn't ride the subway for weeks after that.

Reitman made his calls. No one answered. He wasn't surprised. The effect he had measured might have stirred things up across the city. His colleagues would be putting out fires on the edges of the cause.

He had to do something while he waited for someone to call him back.

He checked the data recorded by his monitoring stations. Most of the effect seemed to be centered around Lower Manhattan. He should go down there and look around until he had a source, or things finished snapping back to normal.

He had a van set up the same way as his office. He could use that as a mobile post. Maybe he could triangulate the source between his office and the mobile unit.

There was still nothing he could do until the source revealed itself. Then he would have to figure out some way to keep it bottled up, or send it home.

Maybe an EMP gun would do the job if the thing wasn't physical. Any other weapon he could use would depend on what he was facing.

Reitman picked up his keys. A ride around might give him some kind of clue about what was going on.

He left his mechanical watchdog on duty as he walked through the building to the lot outside. He used his fob to start the van up, and trigger the mobile post to start echoing the readings from his office. A separate monitor setup would run side by side with the fixed stations he had placed all over the city.

He got behind the wheel. He decided that he would start down in the Bowery and work his way toward the other end of the island. A complete circle of the city should give him something.

He doubted he would have to drive that much. The signal he had picked up should be easy to spot without an extensive search. He should see some kind of physical signs when he got close enough.

He eyed the barometer screwed to the dashboard as he drove. The needle stayed on the line until it dipped once. He looked around. He saw an old train man with a lantern in hand. The ghost looked at him for a moment before turning away and marching down the street. Pedestrians stepped out of the way without giving a sign they could see him.

Reitman nodded. He was on to something dangerous. The train man was a warning. The old ghost only walked when things were about to escalate out of control.

He needed to find that source and shut it down. Whatever was trying to come through had to be something that would be a disaster for the city.

He hit the Bowery and drove around the Lower East Side before making his way north. He reached the southern end of Central Park before a look at his instruments told him that his expected disaster was south of where he was.

He turned the van around and started going street by street. The barometer dipped near one of the skyscrapers facing the street. He found a place to park and climbed into the back of the van. He turned the mobile equipment on that skyscraper.

It looked like the building still held a charge from what had happened earlier in the day. It sent pulses through the array installed in the van.

Reitman looked at the readings. He shook his head. Did he want to run into a spectral earthquake centered on that building. He doubted any warning he could provide would do anything.

He needed to take a closer look before he went back to his office. He doubted they would let him in, but he just needed to get inside and inspect the building for a few minutes. That should be enough to confirm his suspicions.

He could decide what to do on the drive back to his office.

Reitman had a mobile kit with some of the same instruments that were bolted down in the van. They were smaller and less powerful but more linear. He opened the tool box. He selected two of the meters. He put their holsters on his belt as he set the van's computers to record the measurements.

He got out the back of the van and locked it up. He headed for the front doors of Persona Tower. He hoped he didn't have to deal with any static from the door man.

The last thing he needed was an argument about admittance when he wasn't sure the building would be attacked.

If he couldn't get inside, plan B was to drive around as needed until he got the readings he needed. Then he would head back to his office.

Looking at the data would keep him busy for days.

Avoiding the Persona until it collapsed under the spiritual weight of things looked to be the best choice at the moment.

He couldn't do that. If something landed in the building, there was no telling what could happen. He couldn't assume that all spiritual beings were as harmless as that old train ghost. People could be killed by the source of the pressure he was tracking.

Did he really want a transdimensional bomb exploding in Lower New York?

He walked through the door of the Persona. He paused to take in the lobby. He pulled out one of his meters and turned in a circle. The readings said he needed to head up.

He headed for the elevators. He could ride up to the top floor and work his way back down. The meter would let him pinpoint which floor he needed to stop at so he could set up more measuring devices.

“Excuse me,” said one of the doormen/security guards. “What are you doing?”

“I'm taking a reading of the magnetic energy given off by this building,” said Reitman. He held up his meter. “It's way too high for a structure of this height and mass.”

“And you are?,” asked the guard. He walked out from behind the counter that housed the monitors for the cameras in the corners of the lobby. He straightened his jacket as he moved.

“Dr. Orville Reitman,” said Reitman. He held out his hand for a moment before realizing the gesture would not be returned. “You wouldn't happen to know if the building has been renovated in the last few months?”

Reitman monitored the city year round. Something must have happened in the last few days to trigger the build up to set off his alarms.

Would the guard know anything about extraordinary forces colliding in the building's skeleton? He doubted it.

“No, the building hasn't been renovated in the last few months,” said the guard. “Do you live here?”

“No,” said Reitman. The lie would have been revealed as soon as they checked on him so why bother? It was better if he had cooperation in his search. Then he could use the guards as cannon fodder while he ran for his life.

“I'm going to ask you to leave,” said the guard. “You're trespassing.”

“Could you do me a favor?,” asked Reitman. He put the meter away, but left it on and taking readings. He searched his pockets and pulled out a business card. He extended it toward the guard. “If something happens that seems off, call me. It doesn't matter time of day. Then I want you to run.”

The guard took the card and looked at it. He put it in his jacket pocket. He didn't look impressed.

“What do you mean off?,” he asked. His tone said he thought he had a nut on his hands.

“This building has a high magnetic wave aura,” said Reitman. He waved at the lobby around them. “If it starts climbing much higher, you'll start seeing things like will o'wisps, or things will move on their own. If that happens, get out of the building. Your brain is cooking in your skull. You'll die.”

“Are you for real?,” asked the guard.

“I've seen this in action,” said Reitman. “Magnetism will eat a human brain if it's high enough. Usually it's not a problem. It's a low impulse thing all around us. When it starts climbing above a certain tolerance level, that's when you have problems.”

“So when I see things moving around on their own, I should call you from outside the building?,” said the guard.

“If you see the will o'wisps, call,” said Reitman. “They're little pieces of ball lightning. You'll know them when you see them.”

“Until then, you're going to have to leave,” said the guard.

“All right,” said Reitman. He walked toward the lobby door. “Don't forget to call.”

Reitman stepped out on the street. He checked the meter as he walked back to his van. The number was already too high. The guy was lucky not to have blood leaking from every opening at this point.