Chapter 12: Ship Hits the Fan

Gil's voice cut out.

The hatch swung shut, there started a ticking you could feel in the floor.

Simone said ... offhandedly, "UhOh. That's not good." She continued to look about, totally curious, totally oblivious to our situation.

I lost it. Simone, the mistress of the understatement, cracked me up. Our lives are in danger, we have turned the corner and it's a dead end alley, the evil ones are blocking the way out, and she says, 'that's not good' ... and, and, AND ... her scientific mind is studying the compartment.

"What? What? What set you off?" she demanded. "We might not live through this but if we do I want to be able to write it up. This is colossal! I might get the Nobel for it. Come to think of it, WE might get the prize ... if we live."

"Simone," I exclaimed, " I love you..."

"I know. We can discuss my father later. Kiss me quick, and start taking notes. I wish Gil was here, we could use her shorthand." Simone is in the groove. It's her groove, I've never seen another like it. I know she's in it, though. I started taking notes with her drawing paper and my sharpie.

As we minutely examined the compartment she bumped the wall. As luck, coincidence, Karma, or the Chinese saying that 'no good deed goes unpunished' would have it, she bumped the only spot on the compartment that could respond. A click, and the wall pushed back. A panel opened in the overhead, a swoosh sounded and we were sucked up and through the hatch, which immediately closed.

"AntiGravity," she said. "The Nobel is secure!! We can find real magic in here, it won't make a difference. Antigrav will make us. Everything else is gravy. We don't even have to explain how it works. That doesn't matter. Science doesn't totally understand why electricity works: It works and that's good enough."

The new compartment had a couple of recliner type chairs and a button on a pedestal

that was slightly off balance, tilted a mite. Like me, a bubble out of plumb.

A voice sounded, garbled a bit, was silent, tried again, garbled some more ... and was silent.

Simone, she's so smart, started reciting the Preamble to the Constitution, followed by the Gettysburg Address, and the Declaration. That must have been the right thing to do, because the room said, "Ah ... American english, with a minuscule Germanic accent, mid 20th century. You have a lovely voice, my dear. Allow me to introduce myself. I am (something quite unpronounceable). You may call me Ship, and you?"

As if it were an everyday occurrence, Simone curtseyed to the compartment and said, "Simone Berger, age 19, University student. My companion is Hairy Kirby, 44, University student. I am pleased to meet you, Ship."

The Ship projected a feeling of warmth and pleasure. "A charmer! And so polite. A pleasure to meet you Miss Berger. As soon as Pilot arrives, we'll be off. There's not a moment to be lost. I would have thought she would be with you. I'll just scan for her." A pause ensued. "Oh, My. That's not good. I'll just check ... I see, that's a long time ... no wonder she...

"Ah, well. The Prime Motivation takes precedence. Miss Berger? Mr Kirby? Would you be so kind as to be seated? A presence is required on only one of the couches, but since you two are here we may use both. Miss Berger, if you have transportational experience you may drive. Mr Kirby, please be seated to Miss Berger's right. Miss Berger, please be seated to Mr Kirby's left. Thank you."

"Oh, please, Ship." Simone spoke up. "I can drive a conventional wheeled vehicle, but I have limited experience. My former friend insisted he drive. I'd prefer that Mr Kirby," she giggled, "drive. He is So Much Older, I'm sure he has More Experience. I rather observe ... is there anything to observe?"

I recognize burning sarcasm when I hear it.

Immediately a three dimensional image of Gil tearing her hair and screaming at the top of her lungs appeared on the bulkhead before us. We couldn't hear her but her distress was very evident.

"Perfect," said Simone. "You are very accommodating, Ship. We won't hurt her, will we? She Is a friend."

"We'll just move her back a bit, she's too close to the wall," explained the Ship. Gil was picked up, scooted back about 20 meters from the cliff and gently put down. The expression on her face was priceless.

Simone grinned, "Whatever happens, I will always remember that particular expression. Fantastic." She smiled warmly at the compartment, "Thank you, Ship."

The compartment blushed.

"Ok. What's the procedure here?" I asked. "Is there a 'preflight check list'? A warm up?"

"Ah, Mr Kirby, you remind me of my duty. Miss Berger is a true delight. I forget myself." Ship said, "If you would be so good as to possess yourself of the control rod. Yes? Question?"

I've been scribbling as fast as I can, "I can' drive and take notes, Simone. If you would be so kind? Thank you." Sheesh, Ship's courtesy is catching.

Ship continued, "Move it to the upright position, there are detents. Yes, like that. Press the button. The deeper you depress the button the faster you go ... it's a very sensitive control, as you have just discovered."

"Whoa! That's a long way down." I said.

"Might I suggest a little practice?" commented Ship, nervously. "Release the button ... SLOWLY!" Ship muttered, "Let me live through this, I will be forever grateful for the small things in life, I promise."