Page 30 of Government Men

CHAPTER 21

  ENTERPRISE!

  The future is hidden even from the men who made it.

  - Anatole France

  Bates and Team approached Enterprise City Virginia from the east.

  At least that's what they hoped they were doing. As the Team hadn't expected to fly the Bus for several months, they weren't totally prepared for this impromptu trip. Even autos typically navigated using compasses, computerized maps, and periodic driver input, but the only navigation equipment currently operational on the Bus was a tiny magnetic compass that Oscar had on his keychain. Since they had no idea what the magnetic variation was in the area, they didn't want to simply dead-reckon using a compass, as few degrees error in heading due to local magnetic variation could ultimately lead to many miles in final position error. Worse yet, they didn't have a map of any kind. They could have easily downloaded one over the COM-net, but as Flood had warned, further communications could reveal their position to the Ra. They were already concerned about Mel's brief COM with Flood.

  As a result, the navigational method being used for Earth's most advanced vehicle was somewhat primitive. They navigated using what the Team remembered from past vacations. They ended up following highways from the air, usually by shadowing the tail-lights of earthbound vehicles. Traveling low and slow in the darkness would hopefully evade Ra detection. Also, by tailgating earthbound vehicles they were able to follow the contours of the land and maintain an altitude of less than 100 meters.

  Mel headed up the navigation effort, but having a Nobel Prize winning physicist navigating did little to allay the concerns of the Team with regard to their actual where-abouts. Several of them had gotten hopelessly lost in the past while traveling with Dr. Melvin Phineas Guthery while he navigated. Bates remembered one business trip to Los Angeles in which it took him two whole days to drive across town to the airport with Mel navigating. Every street looked the same mile after mile: wide with palm and pepper trees and small houses, convenience stores, laundries, liquor stores and other miscellaneous structures. And of course being men they refused to stop and ask anyone where they were. It wasn't quite the Base record for longest time required to traverse LA, but it was still several times longer than usual.

  In a short time the Bus travelers were lost. Mel had once described to Bates a concept for satellite based navigation that was scrapped when the DOD was dismantled. Mel envisioned that satellite based navigation devices could be used commercially, including by airplanes and cars, and perhaps even be made part of hand-held VISICOM devices. That would require multiple satellites, perhaps a couple of dozen of them if global coverage was sought, which would require multiple, ecologically dirty launches of expensive rockets. Bates doubted that the satellite-based navigation concept was technically feasible, but it was certainly politically incorrect such that global positioning via satellite would never happen anyway.

  The situation became so desperate that they rolled into an EXXON station to get maps and directions, as well as junk food. Landing the Bus in a nearby field was pretty rough, but nothing appeared to be damaged. Take-off was easy.

  Even with maps, the trip proved difficult. Several times, vehicles that they were following turned off the routes that they wanted to take, and Bates followed the wayward vehicles for several miles before the mistake was discovered. In several instances vehicles that they followed stopped, and the occupants got out to point, jump up and down, and shout at the Bus. Bates could well imagine doing the same, if he were in their place. In such cases, the travelers turned out the Bus lights, pulled away from the highway slightly, and waited for another vehicle to come along that they could clandestinely follow.

  As they moved further West into the more hilly areas of Virginia, traveling became even more difficult. Occasionally, there were obstructions that endangered the low flying Bus, including bridges and high voltage electric wires. Also, roads twisted and turned so much that it was much more difficult to keep track of them. Several times they had to land and read road signs in order to get themselves back on track.

  The biggest problem was keeping Bates alert. Though observational and navigational help was provided by the others, he was the sole pilot for over an hour. It required an enormous amount of concentration, which was becoming increasingly impossible for the worn out physicist to muster as the night wore on. Despite continual conversation, directions, junk food, and slaps in the face from Mel and Oscar, Bates was becoming dangerously exhausted. The sugar and caffeine kept his tired eyeballs open, but behind them his mind was mush.

  Finally a well-illuminated, life-sized Brachiosaurus appeared by the side of the highway. Next to the gigantic dinosaur model was a huge sign that indicated they had only 29 km to go before reaching Enterprise City. A few minutes later, as they rounded a large hill that had obscured what lay ahead, the weary passengers were treated to the first view of their destination.

  In a snug valley, an array of conventional looking street and home lights surrounded one of the true wonders of the world. Rumored to cost tens of billions of dollars, some of Enterprise City was similar in concept to Disney World's Epcot Center, but in addition to being a center for public enlightenment and amusement, it was also a true center for science, technology, the arts, and education, in which tens of thousands of people actually worked, played, and lived.

  It was a truly spectacular sight. Huge intersecting spires, mounds, and cubes, awash with green plants, glowing lights, and glass enclosures, dominated the central complex. These buildings housed the dinosaur, space, and architecture exhibitions, amusement rides, convention center, information center, corporate offices, ecological research center, music halls, universities, and other points of interest.

  The far end of the complex was anchored by a huge, ancient looking stone castle, complete with moat, massive walls, soaring towers, colorful banners waving in the night breeze, and tens of thousands of Christmas lights. The castle housed the Jigs Corporation head-office, and at the top of the tallest tower were the working quarters of the multi-billionaire himself. A smallish translucent dome next to the castle was rumored to contain Jig's luxurious private home, never seen by the press or public.

  However, the dominating central structure is what immediately caught everyone's eye. Towering above everything else was an immense, full size, Galaxy Class Starship Enterprise. Though the Earth-bound Enterprise rested on immense pillars, the shiny-white structure was powered up, as evidenced by numerous lights, and appeared to be poised to lift-off.

  "Fly up behind the Enterprise, Bates," instructed Mel, who was on the COM with Flood, "and we should see an open shuttle bay door. Flood says he'll meet us there when we land.” It took a few seconds for the implications of Mel's statement to wake Bates.

  "Good God Mel!” exploded Bates. "You don't expect me to fly this thing into that oversized toy!”

  "It's hardly a toy Bates, it's actually a five star hotel," explained Mel.

  "Well whatever it is, you have got to be kidding. I'm too damn tired to even think about it. Let's just find another big open field someplace.”

  Mel placed a VISICOM helmet on Bates so that he could talk with Mark Flood directly. Flood’s voice was reassuringly confident. "Don't worry Bates; we have you on radar and video. We've modified Shuttle Bay Number Two to handle the Bus. I can explain how to put the Bus under our automatic control, and we'll take it from there. Your piloting days are over.”

  Flood was good as his word. In less than a minute, the Bus was flying smoothly towards the Enterprise under complete remote control. Bates was no longer flying the Bus. The B-Team members all breathed a huge sigh of relief, none more sincere than that of Bates.

  The B-Team had time to relax and take in a spectacular view. Several of them had visited Enterprise City before, but certainly not from a vantage point high above the complex. Below them was a huge domed enclosure in which huge, life-sized robot dinosaurs could be seen roaming among huddled groups of astonished tourists.

  N
ext they were flying over an open air-concert hall where a live concert, attended by many thousands of people, was in progress. Flood patched their music into the Bus. It was Star Trek the Sixth Generation theme music, being played to welcome the Bus. ‘Santa Claus is Coming to Town' was the next tune they played, while Flood explained that as a cover story, the Bus had been identified to be part of the evening's pre-Christmas entertainment. Flood then requested that they all don space suits, except for Hank, who should dress in his Santa costume.

  "Do we even have space suits?" asked Bates.

  "I think so," answered Oscar, "I saw them in the back. But how would Flood know?"

  "I'll hit yah with a better one'n that!” said Hank. "How'd he know 'bout me'n old Saint Nick?” He pulled a travel case from under his seat, opened it, and pulled out his Santa costume. "Hell’s bells," exclaimed Hank, "I didn't even know myself that I had it, till just now! I musta brought it with me without no thinking, when we was running from the Ra!”

  Unable to solve these latest mysteries, the Team retrieved the bulky space suits from the back of the Bus and with great difficulty put them on. Hank had a much easier time of it with his familiar Santa suit. Meanwhile the Bus circled over Enterprise City under Flood's remote control, above cheering throngs of tourists. When they were finished getting dressed, the Bus spiraled majestically closer to the Enterprise.

  The closer the Bus approached the Enterprise, the more impressive it seemed. Bates remembered seeing it many times before on VISICOM, but it was much more impressive in person. He had seen huge buildings before, but nothing to rival this spaceship shaped one; it had to be well over a kilometer high and more than twice as long. Bright lights shining from and on it made it appear even more spectacular.

  At last they saw their destination, a large opening in the rear of the spaceship with a platform that extended from it like a huge tongue. As they approached it, they saw that the platform was really an enormous net.

  Automatically, the Bus gently landed on the net and de-powered. Immediately it was pulled in through the doors and gently placed on the shuttle bay deck. The operation went very smoothly; it was evident that the Enterprise Hotel was well prepared for their arrival. How was that possible?

  As instructed, Hank, ho-hoing in his Santa gear, left the Bus first, followed by the others in space suits. Over a hundred cheering people were crowded into the shuttle bay to greet them. Thoughtfully, Hank left his assault rifle back in the Bus, as a gun-toting Santa could have added to confusion among the tourists; Hank was already the thinnest Santa that any of the onlookers had ever seen.

  Astonishingly, the greeters all wore Star Trek uniforms or other futuristic clothing. Even more extraordinary, many appeared to be Klingon, Vulcan, and other alien species! It was fortunate that Oscomb was carrying Milo, as the dog became very excited.

  "Are they COMing a movie?" asked Bates, using the space suit radio system to talk to the others.

  Mel, who had visited Trekkie heaven before, explained. "No, it's like this here all the time. Most of these people are guests of the hotel. Trekkies. The really alien looking folks are mostly costumed hotel employees. Crew."

  From around the far side of the Bus several of the crew appeared, carrying huge red bags overflowing with Christmas gifts. To the crowd, the gifts had seemed to come from the Bus. The crew carried the gifts to Hank/Santa, who handed them out to the hotel guests as he ho-hoed merrily.

  In the meantime, the rest of the Team was escorted by several Vulcans away from the melee and into a quiet adjoining conference room. There, while the group struggled to remove their helmets and space suits, a middle aged, fit but average looking human with a familiar sounding voice introduced himself as Mark Flood.

  "Well done!” said Flood, as he shook Bates’ and Mel’s hands firmly. "I think that all went pretty damn good! And Hank seems to be playing his part well also. The guests are certainly enjoying it!”

  Oscar introduced himself and shook Flood's hand enthusiastically. As often as Bates had heard his big friend talk glowingly of space flight and astronauts, Bates was not surprised.

  Norma and Flood, obviously old friends, exchanged hugs.

  Milo seemed to take to Flood immediately. As Bates trusted the dog's excellent character judgment, Flood also had his immediate approval.

  Just then another door swished-open for a moment, and a little old man dressed in blue jeans and red plaid flannel shirt came shuffling in, flanked by an immense, Oscomb sized Klingon. Everyone in the room hushed and turned their attention to the new arrival. "OK men," he announced, "everyone out except humans and dogs.” The Klingon ushered out the Vulcans, leaving Flood and the B-Team alone with the eccentric multi-billionaire, Ray Dave Jigs!

  Jigs went around the room greeting each of his visitors warmly, addressing each of them by name without having been first introduced, including Milo. This astonished the Team, since he had not previously met any of them except for Mel. He pulled a big beef flavored Milk Bone out of his shirt pocket for Milo, and was an instant hit with the dog.

  Jigs saved Bates for last. "President Narbando T. Bates, I presume. Yup, that's you, all right!” He craned his head up to stare at Bates with piercing blue eyes behind thick wire-rimmed glasses. "Ordinary looking. Pretty much like I remember you, though I somehow thought you were going to be shorter and fatter. Sizes can be hard for me to judge.”

  Bates was amazed. "Sir, how do you know so much about me and the others? And how did you know that we were coming, even before we did?”

  "Well," chuckled Jigs, "if I don't know, who would? Were you supposed to ask me that? Damned if I can remember anymore. I suppose I should have played this day through again for last minute changes, but I never seem to have the time for such things nowadays. Way too much going on, don't you know? Anyway, everyone can have a seat and relax.” They all sat on comfortable chairs that surrounded the big conference room table.

  "Let me explain what's happening and why we're here," began Bates.

  "Don't bother," interrupted Jigs. "Waste of precious time. You're already a bit behind schedule and close to total exhaustion. I already know much more than you do, and Flood here knows as much as you planned to tell him."

  Bates was overwhelmingly confused, and so tired that he was quite content with Jigs taking control of this visit. The old man certainly spoke with authority; it was probably a habit that multi-billionaires could afford, along with other things.

  "First, I have some equipment that you will find useful," resumed Jigs. "Flood, go get those crates from my office and get to work. Dr. Carbuncle, I believe that Commander Flood could use your help.”

  While Flood and Norma left, Jigs made small talk with the rest of his guests. "You much of a Trekkie Bates?”

  "I guess I used to be, many years ago. But The Fifth Generation series turned me off.”

  "I know what you mean," responded Jigs. "That was definitely the low point for all Trekkies. How the hell they could ever cast Michael Jackson as captain of the Enterprise, I'll never know. Poor man couldn't even moonwalk anymore, what with all that arthritis. It rejuvenated his career though, and reconnected him with society. Now his sister made a damn good Borg, that's true enough, but she couldn't carry the show. I should have bought the COM rights to it long ago, but even I can't own everything.” He turned to Sandra. "Well young lady, aren't you glad I got you scheduled you for flight simulation class ten years ago? Came in handy, right? Otherwise, since Norma gets hopelessly air-sick, Bates likely would have flown you here by the seat of his pants!”

  It was the first instance where Jigs definitely had wrong information. "I did fly us here by the seat of my pants. Well, most of the way anyhow!” revealed Bates.

  "I'm petrified of heights," explained Sandra. "I blanked out for most of the trip.”

  Jigs looked disappointed and responded by talking to himself. "Amazing! That just shows again that you can't fool with it. Lord knows I've tried. Seems there's some parts
you know, and lots of fuzzy parts you don't or can’t, and plenty you're sorry you ever knew. But all right, there were several possibilities, and if Bates piloted the flight in, I think I know what sub-revision we're following for now.” As Jigs ended this final strange statement, he was staring sadly at Oscomb.

  Suddenly, Jigs seemed to remember something, and he put a wrinkled finger up to the bridge of his nose. Instantly his glasses turned opaque. Bates realized that the glasses were some sort of miniaturized VISICOM set that the oldster had been talking into.

  "Well now," announced Jigs, "it looks like you'll be here for at least a few more minutes. Radar indicates our friends the Ra are over this area right now, as we expected, figuring out what to do next. So we might as well have some dinner while we can; I'm afraid you have another long night ahead of you.”

  He ushered the group to a room with tables and chairs. Then, putting a finger to his glasses, he uttered a few odd guttural phrases that Bates thought could be Klingon. This was confirmed by entry of Jigs' huge Klingon companion, who ushered in a group of Vulcan's, Andorians, and a Ferrengi bearing Pizzas and Pepsi. A Vulcan placed a huge everything-on-it Pizza in front of Bates, Jigs and Milo, and the trio dug in.

  "Aren't you afraid the Ra will attack us here?" asked Bates, between bites of pizza. He resolved to limit himself to only one piece. He was much more tired than hungry.

  "No," answered Jigs. "Actually, I expect and hope they will, because we have the fire power to blast them to heck, hopefully. But I don't know if we will for sure. I've seen it end up different ways; we'll just have to wait and see what actually happens. Multiple quantum induced possibilities and so-called free will is in play, you know. I could look and see what's going to actually happen, but when you're this close to it it's usually too late to do anything about it anyway. More fun and less confusing just to let it all happen."

  Jigs had again mixed his tenses in this strange statement, but Bates was getting used to it, and had other questions. "You mean this building has real phasers and photon torpedoes?" he asked.

  "No," laughed Jigs. "That's just pulp science fiction Bates! This is reality! No, we have good old-fashioned lasers, pulsars, and particle beam cannons, mostly, and a limited electromagnetic force field. Nothing exotic. In fact, my people and Norma are fitting your Bus with some similar weapons systems right now, along with fixing you up with improved navigation, more premium fuel, and some other odds and ends."

  This concerned Bates. "Do they know what they're doing?”

  "Bates," Mel explained, "these are the people that built the Bus in the first place.”

  "Quite right, Dr. Guthery,” said Jigs. “One of my favorite and most difficult major plot changes. Between my folks and Norma, you need not worry yourself about the Bus. Oh! This is interesting!” His glasses turned opaque again. "Three Ra craft are approaching in attack formation!” He looked at his watch. "OK, I guess that's to be expected. In real-time things do seem to happen fast: lickity-split one thing after another, don't they? But do not panic, my friends! You Bus folks can continue eating while me and my crew handle the Ra."

  Suddenly battle klaxons and flashing lights were signaling red alert, as the five-star hotel prepared for battle. A thousand guests and two hundred employees assumed it was just another mock emergency to play through; only a select subset of the crew knew better. In the hidden room next to Shuttle Bay Two, a group of weary travelers wolfed down more pizza and Pepsi, and watched the animated old billionaire run to a blank wall and talk to it in Klingon.

  This strange act was rewarded by sliding movement of a portion of the wall. Behind it was another room, already manned by the big Klingon and two blue-hued Andorians sitting at control stations. The far wall was one huge, contiguous, viewing screen. Showing on the center of the screen was the 'bridge' of the Enterprise, easily recognized by most of the B-Team from its numerous VISICOM appearances.

  It too was manned by a crew of mixed species, and, it appeared, also by several human looking teenagers; apparently hotel guests! Standing behind a rope barrier guarded by a pair of burly looking Klingons was a crowd of other hotel guests, apparently either waiting their turns to be part of the bridge crew, or, simply watching the drama that was now beginning to unfold. Sitting at the Enterprise Bridge, the Captain, a Captain Wesley Crusher look-alike, was instructing the crew to prepare to fire all weapons at attacking pirate space vessels!

  Jigs shuffled into the hidden control room and motioned the others to follow. "My battle bridge, folks. Got some good gamers in these teenagers; enough to give us an edge over advanced alien technology, we hope. Bates, you and your crew might learn something, so watch carefully.” Jigs sat down in a central command chair that looked identical to the one 'Crusher' occupied on the wall monitor. "Lieutenant Kra: situation report!” he commended.

  The big Klingon responded. "Sir! The Ra are diving towards us in classic Romulan attack formation. Fifty kilometers and closing. We are at Red Alert with shields up!”

  Jigs touched a button on his chair's armrest. "Captain Crusher! Are your young Top Guns in place?”

  "Yes, Admiral. The girl at position three and the boy at position five each have superior test scores.”

  'Admiral' Jigs' fingers danced across his controls again, and half of the bridge scene disappeared, to be replaced by a black screen that showed stars and three brighter lights in the middle. As they watched, the lights grew larger and brighter. Soon three glowing saucer shape craft could be seen. It was the approaching Ra!

  "Very well. Lieutenant, ID the targets and track them.” Letters 'A', 'B', and 'C' appeared superimposed on the three targets. "Put weapons stations three and five in charge of gun emplacements three and five. Kra, you will control gun four. Put the others under independent computer control.”

  "Yes Admiral.”

  Bates had the definite impression that the crew had done this sort of thing many times before.

  At Weapons Station three, Ensign Mary Johnson, age 14, watched the three approaching saucers on her targeting screen. Wow! They sure looked real! She fixed her laser's cross hairs on the center ship, and awaited orders to fire. If she won a Top Gun award, she would be the heroine of her 8th grade!

  At Weapons Station Five, Ensign Bruce Newberg, age 15, was going straight to the use of particle beams, which he fixed on an incoming saucer with confidence. This was his fourth trip to Enterprise City in two years, and, he was sure, this would lead to his second straight Top Gun award. When he got his award, maybe he would ask the fox at the next station for a date. He almost looked her over again, but caught himself. He had to concentrate; this was an important game to him. Neither teenager ever dreamed that they were fighting real space aliens to actually help save the Earth.

  Admiral Jigs began the attack. "Let's let them know we have them targeted; low level EM pulse, Lieutenant; fire when ready.”

  "Firing," stated the Klingon. Lights blinked once in the control room, and the Ra lights appeared to blink several times. But moments later, the Ra' opened up with blasts of their own: plasma flows like directed lightning flashed from the Ra craft across several kilometers to the Enterprise.

  An invisible, bubble like transparent shape surrounding all of Enterprise City glowed for several seconds. "Electromagnetic force-field holding, sir!” reported the Klingon.

  "Hot damn!” exclaimed the ecstatic billionaire. "Figured that would work! Now we'll teach them to fire on innocent, well-healed Earth tourists! All weapons stations, thirty percent power! Fire at operator discretion."

  Beams of laser light, invisible except in a few places where they passed through wisps of evening fog, erupted from the Enterprise. Accompanying particle beams were totally invisible. "Direct hits on all targets," reported the Lieutenant. "They're taking evasive action."

  The saucers started darting about randomly. Now many of the Enterprise's shots were clearly missing. "I read a fifty percent increase in broad-band emissions. Sir! I think they absorb our
fire and radiate the energy!”

  "As expected. Well, let’s see how much they can take!” shouted Jigs. "Randomly phased EM pulse! Fifty percent power to all weapons! All stations concentrate fire on Target A.” Nearly half of the available power from three underground fusion reactors was now focused on one saucer.

  "Target A is absorbing more than it can emit now sir!” said Kra. "It's withdrawing.” The saucer was glowing white hot, like a small sun.

  The other two however, were darting in towards the Enterprise unimpeded. A plasma blast from the two saucers penetrated the force field, but struck the Enterprise's hull with no apparent effect, other than a sound like distant thunder and a slight vibration.

  "Ha!” laughed Jigs. "Only 10**7 Joules! These guys are lightweights! Maybe they still think this is just some damn hotel!

  “OK, we've pulled those two in close enough. Weapons stations three and five, track Targets B and C. Lieutenant, prepare to slave all batteries to stations three and five, bring all weapons to 100% power, and fire on my mark. Mark!”

  Both kids hit their targets dead center. Two seconds later, both saucers blew up with huge, deafening explosions that shook Enterprise City with like earthquake-like tremors. Bright flashes slightly singed a few witnesses that were located outside the shield, and small bits of pulverized alien space craft began to rain down from the sky.

  Meanwhile, Target A limped up towards space as fast as it could, apparently anxious to get out of range of the Enterprise's weapons.

  In the Enterprise itself and throughout the City, onlookers cheered the victory and this evening's spectacular special effects, by far the most sensational they had ever witnessed. Mary and Bruce jumped up and down and then squirmed shyly, as teenagers often do, when they received the accolades of crew and audience alike. Both were declared Top Guns, received on-the-spot promotions to full Lieutenant, and fifty percent reductions in hotel rates for their families.

  "Damage report?" commanded Jigs.

  "No casualties or measurable damage from the saucer attack, Admiral. We've blown a few power circuits, but back-ups are fully functional. Target A seems to be operating with reduced effectiveness. I think we damaged it extensively.”

  "Excellent, Lieutenant! We have achieved our optimal likely outcome! Initiate repairs and maintain yellow alert until further notice. You have the COM."

  Jigs led the group back to their pizzas, but Bates and Jigs were out of luck. They were greeted by a fat, waggle tailed dog standing on their table. Milo had clearly taken advantage of the situation. Not even a crust remained.

  "Ha! I didn't see that one coming!" Jigs quipped. "You scientists and scientist dogs can sure pack away the pizza! I'll have a few more pizzas sent up from the kitchen that you can take with you. Smart dog, Bates. Bring him with you and we'll have a quick little private talk.” Jigs turned briefly to the others. "Nice meeting you all, but it's back to the Bus with you! Take advantage of our little tactical victory over the Ra and get the hell out of here right away! They’ll repair their ship and come after you again very soon. And please come back and visit us again as my guests when you have more time, assuming we survive the Dannos business of course.” He walked up to Oscar and shook his hand. "Simply do what you have to do sir," he said cryptically. Then he turned to Mel. "Please wait here for Bates, Dr. Guthery. Bates will have something to ask you in a few minutes."

  Jigs led Bates and Milo out and down a hallway filled with spirited Trekkies still excited about the evening's entertainment. Shortly they entered a small garden area. Two hotel guests were there with their own dogs. The primary function of the area was obvious, and Milo took advantage of it right away. The grass would soon be much greener where he personally treated it.

  "Bates, you were going to ask me how I know so much," stated Jigs, as he was anxious to move things along. "Oh, and by the way, the Magnificent Seven actor you were trying to remember the other day is Yul Brynner."

  "Exactly!” said Bates. "You just did it again! How did you know what I was going to say? Or what I was thinking about days ago and never even told anyone?”

  "In a nutshell, and that's all that we have time for right now, I can see the future. Or, bits and pieces of what might someday become the present, anyway. I've been doing it all my life. I call it farsight, Bates. How else do you think I've done so well with the stock market? I've seen bits and pieces of this Ra and Dannos business for many years, and how it might be fixed."

  "But that's wonderful!” said a beaming Bates. "You can tell me exactly what we need to do then!”

  "Bates," replied Jigs, shaking his head sadly and choosing his words carefully, "I've spent a lifetime trying to use my farsight to practical advantage, and things just don't work that way. I'm afraid that I can't tell you very much specific information at all. If I did, you'd probably screw things up more than you otherwise would. You can't simply barge into a story that way and muck about with the plot. You'd probably change things so much that there would be no predictability to it at all, such that most of my accumulated insights would become totally useless. Besides, a lot of it is pretty fuzzy in my own mind, and I could even be wrong and mislead you. But I can give you some really good hints."

  "So," reasoned Bates, "this information that you're giving me is kind of vague, like Gandalf instructing the Hobbits. You know a lot more about stuff, but you aren't goanna tell me diddle?”

  "Excellent analogy!” responded Jigs. "That's it exactly! I'm going to give you some cryptic information that sounds like nonsense, and trust that you'll figure it all out later and save the Earth!”

  A somewhat disappointed Bates sighed, but didn't argue. Maybe he was getting used to craziness and being manipulated, or maybe he was simply too exhausted. "Right. OK then, if that's the best you can do, shoot!” He pulled pencil and paper from a pocket in order to take notes.

  Jigs began. "First. One word of advice. Plastic!”

  "Plastic?” So far the farsight advice was a little disappointing, though it seemed vaguely familiar.

  "Right. The plastic that the Bus and Enterprise are made of is not even your ordinary Earthly Starlite Plastic, which is fantastic, it is a special type not normally found on Earth. Where it came from isn't important in this episode, but try not to let it fall into the hands of the Ra. Got it?"

  Bates nodded his head affirmatively.

  "OK. That was the easy one. Too easy; I’m pretty sure that you’ll forget it, so write it down. Anyway, number two is as follows: ‘The reason and answer lies sleeping in harm's way.’”

  "That's it?" asked Bates.

  "That's it! Cryptic enough for you? Then you'll really like the next one; it's my favorite! Number three: ‘The Traveler from the Black Pit summons the key.’ Wonderfully dramatic, don't you think? You'll personally appreciate that one later.” He winked at Bates, grinned, and poked him in the ribs with an elbow, as if the two of them shared some juicy secret.

  "Not to be confused with number four: ‘The Visitors from afar summon the Traveler.’” Jigs paused for a few moments while Bates scribbled the strange message, then turned and started walking back towards where Mel waited for him. “Ok, actually, that's just about it. Those are the crux of the whole thing. With that information you should be able to save the Earth, hopefully."

  "But we only have less than a week before the asteroid clobbers us!” objected Bates, as he scrambled to catch up. "Can't you explain these things more?"

  Jigs let out a deep sigh. "Not really. Listen Bates, I've worked on formulating this advice for many years. It's simply not that simple. Quantum-fuzzed causality and paradoxes and all sorts of stuff enter into it. You'll just have to take my word for it. If we stray too far from the plot, there's no telling what will happen! But I do have a couple more simple things that will help. Ready? OK then, write down this one too! ‘Read what you wrought.’ And the final one is this: ‘Reverse the order.’ Got all that?”

  Bates wrote them all down word for word, hop
ing that his genius friends would be able to figure them out. It didn't seem like a lot to go on. "Don't we get a magic ring or lamp or sword or helmet or something?" he asked.

  "Afraid not," replied the old man. "This is reality Bates, not some silly goof-ball fantasy. On the other hand, I'd keep an open mind about what reality can be, if I were you. You're in for some big surprises."

  “Lots of times I like surprises, actually," answered Bates. "Anyway, I think I’m getting rather used to surprises, if that’s possible. I’d be surprised if I stopped getting surprised, at this point.”

  Bates was glad to see Mel when he and Jigs returned; he was anxious to talk to the renowned physicist about farsight. "That sounds spooky," Mel remarked, after Bates told him about the farsight ability that Jigs claimed to have.

  "Spooky as in ghosts?" a surprised Bates responded. He didn't think that Mel believed in ghosts.

  "No, spooky as in quantum physics. You know that I've long preferred a transactional interpretation of quantum mechanics which includes the concept of negative time?"

  "Yes, you've explained that too me a number of times. It helps explain that spooky action at a distance business and why apparent contradictions of special relativity are OK."

  "So then, maybe due to negative time echoes of multiple futures can be observed here in the present," Mel speculated. "It might require adding a few more dimensions for the required mathematics, but perhaps it could help explain this farsight business. If he can see multiple futures though, that complicates things even more. It might require a combination of transactional and multiverse interpretations of quantum mechanics and infinite dimensions and solutions and corresponding realities! Holy crap, I certainly have a lot more work to do on my theory of everything then!"

  "It sounds like a radical step, Mel."

  "Surprisingly and excitedly radical; but if the farsight phenomenon really does happen, it's up to science to explain how it happens, and something pretty darn radical is clearly required."

  "But bottom line, Mel, you think that farsight might be possible?"

  "The bottom line is: we scientists don't use science to define the phenomena that can happen, we use phenomena to define the science. And since all basic phenomena in the universe have been discovered to strictly follow mathematics, we need to stick to that approach. Philosophically there will have to be a mathematics that the universe follows that enables farsight, or our whole basic scientific understanding of the universe would fall apart. That's not faith, Bates, that's the result of hundreds of years of experience by thousands of scientists dealing with the facts of how the universe works. Math is the key. The universe is one infinitely big math problem that resolves itself into an emerging solution that is reality. We experience the mathematical solution of the moment as our current reality in the present. But there are multiple solutions that work out as good as any other, the echoes of which perhaps propagate forward and backwards in time throughout all nearby realities."

  "Was that a 'yes' answer to my question about farsight being possible?" Bates asked.

  "It was a qualified 'yes' Bates. If you're asking me if humans can discover the mathematics that the universe follows to provide a farsight phenomenon, I have to say 'yes' as a matter of confidence in human ingenuity. Already I can see some broad directions for the research needed to find the mathematics, but it will be difficult. I'm not God Bates, I don't decide what the universe can do or not do. I'm a scientist. But if the universe does permit farsight, I have confidence that science will someday figure out the corresponding mathematics that God follows to allow it. In the meantime if the phenomenon happens it happens. Period. And the science needs to be developed to explain it."

  It was too fuzzy an answer to fully suit Bates, but it was as good an answer as he could get out of Mel. He still wasn't a hundred percent certain that he wasn't being somehow flimflammed by Jigs, but then nobody in the universe enjoyed perfect certainty about anything.

  The remainder of the visit went quickly. Jigs walked Bates, Mel, and Milo back to the Bus and handed them a couple more boxes of pizza before giving them final handshakes and farewells as they entered the Bus. The remaining crewmembers were already onboard, including an exhausted but smiling Santa Claus. Crew and guests waved as the Bus was moved outside the Shuttle Bay on to the net, which still held the Bus suspended hundreds of feet above a Jurassic jungle swarming with robot dinosaurs. Commander Flood, with practiced ease, powered the Bus up and it smoothly flew away from that magnificent five star hotel, the Star Ship Enterprise.

  As they pulled away, Bates glimpsed a small bent figure in blue-jeans and flannel shirt, standing in the Shuttle Bay doorway, waving good-bye with his right hand. In his other hand he seemed to be holding a piece of pizza.

  ****