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As they were zooming in towards the capital, Bates suddenly realized that they were entering one of the few areas left on Earth that probably had some sort of military air defenses. Aided by Barns, he made another call to the White House, and was surprised to almost immediately reach Mr. Ryan.
"Mr. Ryan? This is Narbando Bates from the DOD Base. Remember me sir? We spoke earlier in the week. I'm speaking to you from a flying Space Bus that we just got out of mothballs, so it turns out that we did have a space ship after all! With me are several eminent scientists, including Drs. Barns, Guthery and Carbuncle.” Ryan and Wright recognized those names. "Unbelievable as it may sound; we've just had to flee enemy aliens at the Base. Sorry to barge through this way, but we urgently request clearance to fly through the area. Close to the White House, as a matter of fact."
“What do you mean, when you say aliens?” asked Ryan.
“Space creatures. The Ra. Bad guys from another planet, like I said in my written message.”
"Bates, or should I say President Bates, this is President Wright. Land at once and we'll sort all this out!”
"Glad my message finally got your attention Madam President, but we can't land to chat just now," replied Bates. "In the first place, we don't know how to land yet. We just figured out how to take off a couple of minutes ago in order to escape from the Ra!”
Oscomb was at that very moment pouring through the User’s Manual, and yelling at both Sandra and Norma, urging them to take control of the Bus. He used some very creative English, but Sandra still sat frozen with fear and unresponsive in the copilot seat, and Norma was still barfing in the back of the Bus.
"In the second place," continued Bates, "there's nothing to sort out. We're determined to attempt to avert the coming asteroid disaster, despite the odds. In the third place, the Ra have been after us for the last 24 hours, and they probably still are. We simply don't have time to stop. We’re on the run from them now!”
Bates glanced again at the altimeter, which indicted lower and lower altitude, and at Sandra, who still sat staring blankly out the windshield with hands frozen on the controls. Towards the back of the Bus, Jane was crying and being comforted by Mel, who was crying and being comforted by Jane, and Oscomb was now focusing most of his yelling at Norma, who could still be heard retching her guts out. Hank started singing some sort of country gospel, and Barns was either praying or cursing in several languages, Bates couldn't tell which. Milo, sensing serious trouble, was howling. What this all sounded like to the President and her chief of staff, Bates couldn't begin to guess.
"Are you having trouble up there?" asked President Wright.
"Nothing that a good Space Bus pilot, some Pepto, and a dog catcher couldn't fix," replied Bates, as he checked the controls. As near as he could tell, they were now only 1000 meters above Washington, and still gradually accelerating. The Washington Monument, Capital dome, and other landmarks were clearly visible and becoming closer by the second. When Bates had earlier suggested to Norma and Sandra that they set a course towards the White House, perhaps his words had been taken a bit too literally, for they were indeed headed directly towards the White House on a collision course.
"Listen, it's been an honor, President Wright, but I've really got to hang up now and try to keep this thing from crashing into you. Bye for now.” Bates put the microphone down and started looking desperately through volumes of the User’s Manual that Oscar had already abandoned. Oscar was attempting to wrestle stout Norma, barf bag and all, back up to the cockpit of the Bus.
"Ryan, tell Security that the Bus has clearance and to COM 9-1-1," said President Wright. “They could be coming down anywhere!” On the big VISICOM screen, the image of the bus had more than doubled in size. “Now, Mr. Ryan, let's get the hell out of here!” She popped out of her seat and ran unceremoniously for the inner catacombs of the White House, trailed closely by Ryan, who was shouting into his VISICOM as he went.
The situation in the Bus was growing more and more desperate. Flipping frantically through the User Manual's index, Bates found an entry titled 'Collision Avoidance System' that seemed to have some possibilities. In moments he located the corresponding switch on the control panel. Unfortunately, details on exactly what the function was supposed to do were in Volume VI, wherever the hell that was. Muttering a quick prayer he threw the switch.
The switch glowed more brightly; other than that, nothing seemed to happen.
Bates stared transfixed through the windshield, as the White House got larger and larger! It was all lit up for the tourists, including a wonderful seventy-foot Christmas tree. It was a truly beautiful sight. He noticed that this evening there were several tour buses visiting the White House.
Well, he thought, it's now or never. As frightened and as inexperienced as he was, he had to try something. He leapt into the pilot's seat and pulled back on and twisted the yoke!
Instantly the Bus banked up and to the right, missing the White House by 50 meters. A nearby office building appeared in front of them, so suddenly that Bates had no time to react. His lack of action allowed the Bus to become close enough to impact to at last activate the Collision Avoidance System. The Bus banked violently left, throwing Bates out of his seat and on top of Sandra, and bouncing Oscar and Norma back down the aisle. Fortunately, everyone else was still strapped in. The Bus shot towards and next avoided the Washington Monument, the Smithsonian Information Center, the Capital Building, the Lincoln Memorial and several less famous historical items in fairly quick order. It was like riding the inside of a large Ping-Pong ball that was taking a tour.
Finally, while they were for several seconds calmly shooting across the Potomac, Bates was able to regain the pilot seat, strap himself in, and grab the controls again. This time he very gently eased the yoke back and gained altitude. They had the luxury of entering Arlington at several hundred feet, allowing them to fly safely and comfortably over the Pentagon without any danger of collision.
This allowed them a wonderful view of the giant central glass enclosure and other recent additions made since the end of the Cold War. The Pentagon, which had essentially been turned into a shopping mall with a giant planter in the middle, was lit up spectacularly for the holidays. It was yet another colorful point of interest that the Bus passengers weren't currently in the mood to fully appreciate.
Bates continued to experiment gently with the controls, gradually getting a feel for them. The controls for the Bus reminded him strongly of the flight simulator VISICOM games he played at home and at work. Over Reagan/National Airport he had to dodge both a giant airliner that was taking off and a little puddle-jumper that was landing. He flew south for perhaps a few miles, and then cautiously turned south-west and flew deeper into Virginia.
After several minutes of continued life and relatively smooth flying, Bates was starting to feel more confident, and so was everyone else. The yelling, howling, cursing, praying and screaming had stopped, at least for the moment. Still, Bates couldn't see himself piloting the Bus all the way to Arizona or into space. "Isn't anyone fully trained to fly this thing?" he asked.
Mel moved up to occupy the flight engineer seat behind Bates and Sandra. "Only one person trained extensively to fly this thing, Narb: Mark Flood. I saw him just recently. Remember that VISICOM special on cosmology that I was in last year? Flood hosted it.”
"Oh OK," said Bates, "I know who you mean now. He struck me as a good man.”
"Top rate; an ex-Navy Commander. Anyway, Bates, I think we should get him if we can. Strangely enough, when we last talked, he even hinted to me that he would like to be flying in space again. Odd damn conversation as I recall; he talked with me as though I was looking to hire an astronaut! He works in Virginia, only one or two hundred kilos from here, so I guess he’s our man."
"Sounds good, Mel," said Bates. "Why not try to raise him on the COM? Maybe we can pick him up right away. Maybe he can even tell us how to land this thing so that we can pic
k him up without getting killed!”
Mel went further back in the Bus to COM Commander Flood. Shortly he returned to Bates with surprising news. "I just had a really weird conversation with Flood. He says that he'll meet us in an hour, but not to COM again until we arrive, or we might be intercepted. We should maintain total COM silence. But here's the really weird part. He claims that he had been expecting our call!”
"No way," responded Bates. "How could he have anticipated our call?"
"I bet I know," ventured Oscomb. "Our little escapade in Washington is probably all over the VISICOM channels by now!”
"That was my guess too," admitted Mel. "But when I asked Flood about it, he claimed that his boss has been expecting us for months!” Jaws dropped open again.
"Well, his boss is known to be eccentric," remarked Oscomb.
"He can afford to be eccentric!” added Mel. "Is he also psychic?”
"Maybe you have a leak in your B-team," theorized Barns, who had just come forward to join in the conversation. Despite the rough Bus ride, his condition was continuing to improve. "He may have learned that there has been an effort to get this Bus ship-shape.”
Mel as well as Oscar flatly denied any such possibility. "Well, I only met the man himself once," said Mel, "but he's an oddball, that's for sure!”
Bates wondered how eccentric someone had to be for Mel to consider them odd.
"Think we'll get the opportunity to meet him tonight?" asked Oscomb?
"I wouldn't be surprised," answered Mel. "The old man gets his fingers into everything at that place.”
"Wow! Do you think they might give us a tour?" asked Sandra, who was coming out of her panic induced trance at last. Perhaps they could now pry her out of the copilot's seat.
"Well, I sure to heck hope so!” added Hank, who had come forward and was clearly also excited at the prospect.
Bates, as often was the case, still didn't know what everyone else was talking about. "All right, all right! I give up! Who the heck is Flood's boss, and where the heck are we going, and what the hell tour are you talking about?"
Hank turned to Bates with a snort. "Well now, it's just like I always figured. Some of you rocket scientists don't know much oh-nothing 'bout important things do yeah?"
"Bates," explained Mel, "the place we're going to pick up Flood is Enterprise City. If we had time, I'm sure they would give us a tour. Unfortunately, given the choice between a Trekkie tour and saving the Earth, I suggest we make our visit brief. Anyway, why tours are called 'Trekkie tours' will become obvious when you see the place. Oh, and of course Flood's boss is the man that built Enterprise City, the world's richest person: Ray Dave Jigs!”
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