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In the Bus, the terror of a few short hours ago had been replaced by a new sense of hope and direction. The Ra had been dealt a heavy blow, and the Team had clues from an apparently legitimate psychic that would hopefully guide them on what to do. It wasn't yet enough, not by a longshot, but it was much more than they had before. Norma had motion sickness medicine that allowed her to function once again, and most of the others also benefited from the medication. Sandra proved to be a competent navigator, as long as she avoided looking outside the Bus. Plus, they had all been fed and entertained in remarkable fashion during their brief stop at Enterprise City.
As it had been designed to do, Enterprise City had in this instance strongly and positively influenced the spirit of the people that visited it. That such a place existed at all was overwhelming testament to human invention, industry, and good will. That the Starship Enterprise Hotel had stood up to the Ra, a race with supposedly superior technology, was utterly astonishing.
Jigs had also equipped the Bus with weapons, and a huge supply of Premium Fuel. Finally and perhaps best of all, in Flood they had a real Bus pilot at last!
Flood was utterly ecstatic at the turn of events that had taken place over the last few months and hours to make him a member of the B-Team. A pilot for most of his life and an aspiring but frustrated astronaut after space travel had fallen from fashion, Flood remembered the difficulty Jigs had in retaining him after the Bus contract with DOD had been canceled. Flood's strongest impulse had been to chuck it all and head West. A primitive little cabin in the Rocky Mountains would have suited him just fine.
But Jigs had at last persuaded him to work for him at Enterprise City. A hub for remaining limited unmanned space operations and research, Enterprise City was a suitable haven for many scientists and engineers interested in space exploration. However, for Flood it was slow death. At Enterprise city he only talked about Space Flight! Flood was no desk jockey; he needed to actually fly.
There were no more astronaut jobs, or fighter pilot jobs. Flood was used by Jigs more for social functions than anything else, as part of his futile attempts to lobby Government and industry for more space efforts. There was a certain value to having a genuine astronaut on such occasions; and Flood was the last American astronaut to be in space. Still, there were many people on the Jigs staff more capable of lobbying than Flood.
Yet Jigs had gone to absurd extremes to keep Flood. Why? Until now, Flood hadn't been able to fathom it. Jigs lavished cars, vacations, airplanes, bonuses, and endless promises of future astronaut opportunities on Flood to retain him. Flood was like a pet tiger being kept at bay with catnip and toy mice. That could only work for so long with a man like the Commander. Sooner or later, he would have to show his stripes, if not as a pilot, then in some other way.
Six months ago Flood was again all ready to head for the Rocky Mountains permanently when Jigs called him to his office. Flood expected more bonuses and vague empty promises, but was instead astonished by what the eccentric billionaire told him. Jigs told him that he would be piloting the Space Bus before Christmas, that he would go into space on a vital mission not long after that, and that they should immediately begin to prepare for the Bus's arrival. This was certainly not the first time that Jigs had made predictions of specific future events and usually he was right. So he wasn't loony; the old man had either uncanny insight or was an authentic psychic.
Flood still had serious doubts. He saw no evidence that space exploration would take hold once again in his lifetime, despite efforts by Jigs. He liked the Old Man, as he was affectionately referred to by his employees, but he feared that Jigs was deluding himself. Still, Flood decided to stay on until Christmas.
And now here he was, actually on the Bus, piloting it on the most urgent mission in human history! He supposed that within the next few days, he would actually pilot the Bus into space, to meet his destiny: the oncoming Dannos! He hoped that by that time this batch of whiz-bang scientists would have a way to stop the damn thing. Personally, he didn't see any way in hell that stopping it was possible.
At the moment, they were off to Arizona, which involved some pretty impressive piloting, relative to the low standards that had been established by Narbando T. Bates. Using flying skills and automated capabilities that Bates even in his desperation had no hope of acquiring earlier that night, Flood flew the Bus low and fast to Richmond Airport, where he intercepted a transcontinental supersonic flight to Phoenix. They were now flying unnoticed by the aircraft they shadowed, and hopefully, unnoticed by the Ra, slightly below and behind the airliner, easily matching its speed of over 4000 km per hour, at an altitude of 15,000 meters. They would be in Arizona in less than an hour.
For most of the brief flight the Team members either napped, or pondered the riddles provided by Jigs. The 'plastic' one was obvious, and it seemed clear that the 'reverse order' one reversed the order of the preceding riddles.
Assuming reverse order, then the riddle to really worry about first was the 'read what you wrought' one. After some discussion they were pretty certain that item one referred to the data cubes stolen by Barns or made by Bates with his MX-84. But the reading of the cubes should obviously be done in the context of all the riddles, so they first proceeded to briefly consider all the others.
Who were the 'Visitors from afar', and who was the 'Traveler' that the visitors should summon from what ‘Black Pit’?
"Well," reasoned Norma, "the Ra are certainly visitors from afar.”
"Maybe we should ask for their help with black pits and travelers!” ventured Sandy. A very subdued round of forced laughter followed.
"Wait," said Bates, still waking from his nap. "There may be something to this! Mel, I've been meaning to ask you about something you said yesterday. When I told you that Barns claimed that space aliens were involved you spoke as though you already had knowledge of aliens!”
Mel sighed and looked a little nervous. "This is another tip-top secret. Are we truly beyond such things now?” He looked at his friend Bates quizzically.
Bates knew what his friend wanted him to do. "By the power invested in me as supreme leader of this outfit I hereby grant Dr. Melvin Phineas Guthery absolution and order him to blab everything he knows here and now, regardless of prior oaths, etcetera, e pluribus unum.” He crossed himself.
"Thanks," said Mel. "It was about ten years ago, I guess. I was visiting Los Alamos Laboratory. It was being shut down, and I was looking to salvage anything of value that I could, when I got a call from General Therman of the Air Force."
"The last General of the Air Force, Mike Therman? He's an acquaintance of mine! Good pilot, even if he wasn't Navy," interjected Flood.
"The same," continued Mel. "He was also closing up shop. That was the year the Air Force, Army, and Navy were abolished.” The listeners grimaced. Bates thought he heard growling sounds emanating from Flood's direction. It had been a sad time for the DOD.
"Anyway," continued Mel, "Therman wanted me to visit a base in Utah I had never heard of before; he wouldn't tell me why. He even had an Air Force jet fly me there. Therman took me into a conference room where the two of us met with two very strange visitors indeed.” The little physicist looked around at the gathered Team as he seemed to search for the right words.
"They were both definitely space aliens, but of different races. One was a little, thin, gray skinned fellow shorter than Sandra, with a huge head and big slanted eyes. You know what I mean, you've seen his likeness for years on supermarket news stands and in movies.”
"The little bug-eyed gray guys are for real?" asked Bates.
"For sure! This one was, anyway. The other one was quite different. He was about twice the size of Oscomb, was covered with green scales, and had a short tail and a head about half-way between a man and a turtle.”
"Hot damn!” commented Hank. “Now that there’s an alien!”
"That was my first reaction too," said Mel, "but Therman and I had
meaningful conversation with them for half an hour and they both seemed to be highly intelligent and very friendly."
"What did they say?" asked Bates.
"Actually nothing much, verbally. They communicated with us mostly through mental telepathy. Weird. Anyway, in that fashion they 'said' some strange things. The small one said his people were reducing their visits, and they might not be back again for several decades. He said they had finished their studies of us for now. And then, strangely enough, the big one asked us if we knew of other visitors from space. The General then about knocked my socks off by responding that they had known of visits by the small gray folk for many years, but no others. The big one said there could be others, and if there was, he wanted to find them. Unauthorized visitors, he called them."
"Lord!” interjected Barns. "What if he was talking about the Ra?"
"It fits!” exclaimed Bates. "Other aliens came here looking for the Ra! Authorized aliens looking for unauthorized aliens!”
"Police from space?" proposed Oscar.
"Perhaps," said Bates. "If so, they could be the allies that we badly need! Maybe they even have the technology to stop Dannos!”
"What else did they say?" asked Oscar.
"Well, I'm afraid that was about it. It was very late and we quit for the day. The next morning the General told me the visitors had to leave suddenly. He said they left no forwarding address. I was sworn to secrecy and sent home. End of story."
"Damned unsatisfying end to that story," remarked Norma.
"Indeed it was," said Mel. "I've thought about the incident many times since then. The most exciting and potentially momentous event imaginable, reduced to a short secret encounter that left more questions than ever. I felt strongly that I was a traitor to humanity, by keeping the encounter a secret. Anyway, that was ten years ago, and as far as I know, nothing ever came of it. Sorry Bates."
Moving on, the Team next resolved to review all data cubes as soon as possible, including those obtained by Barns from the Ra ship. Those who weren't napping went right to it, using personal and shipboard VISICOM units.
Right now however, they were approaching Arizona, and Bates found that there was only one thing he could think about. Of all the things that had happened to him in the last five days, he still regarded seeing Janet Garb again the most momentous prospect by far.
Bates hoped for a warm welcome in Arizona.
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