13) --- Guest Starring... --------------------------------------------- "Oh man, this isn't happening. It only *thinks* it's happening!" -- Kevin Flynn It was a cloudy day when Philip landed the Citation. Then again, it was Pittsburgh; it's *always* cloudy in Pittsburgh. Philip looked up at Wean Hall, and could only think of one thing: "Wait, there *is* an Architecture program here, right??" Wean Hall had to have been one of the ugliest buildings he had ever seen. Thinking about it further, though, he realized he really couldn't blame them much: this place was so hilly that they had to work with what they had. Taking his mind off the appearance of the building, Philip entered into a spartan hallway. "Where do I go from here??" Philip wondered. When Trevor had said that he was going to be in Wean Hall, he had conveniently forgotten to mention exactly *where* in this nine-story building he could be found. He had a hunch, though, that a computer lab would be a good place to start. "Excuse me," Philip queried to a passing student, "but do you know where the computer lab is?" The student had to keep from laughing in Philip's face, instead simply restricting his initial reaction to a "You obviously don't go here, do you?" look. "Upstairs, 5th floor," he said, looking at Philip like he had amnesia. Philip, unaware of why the student was so apprehensive, flashed him a smile and said "Thanks!" and continued down the hall. "Excuse me," he said as he turned around again, "but where are the elevators?" The student shook his head and pointed Philip in the right direction. Trevor leaned back in the chair of Wean 5201, rubbing his eyes. He had been sitting in front of the Andrew workstation for almost two hours now, and everything was beginning to go blurry. he thought to himself, but laughed at the thought. "Hey, Trev!" echoed from the entrance to the room. Trevor turned around to see Shawn Knight and Ann Kopchik enter the lab. Ann came over and gave Trevor a big hug and a quick kiss. No one seemed to notice, but Trevor was peripherally glad that Ann's boyfriend wasn't there. He thought he saw a smirk on Shawn's face out of the corner of his eye, but thought better of it. Shawn and Ann had gone out at one point; Trevor thought, Trevor and Ann had their arms around each other, and Trevor almost commented something about "How cute," but decided against it. "What'cha doin'?" Ann asked. (Not exactly appropriate for a senior English major, but what the hell?) "Ah, just checking my mail, working on that story Philip asked me to help write, and generally just avoiding reality as we know it." "Always a good game plan," Shawn commented from over their shoulders. "You know," Philip commented to no one in particular, "when I asked that guy where the computer lab was, I neglected to ask if there was MORE THAN ONE!" It turned out there were *five* computer labs on fifth floor Wean alone. Philip didn't even want to think about the rest of the campus... As he passed by the entrance to 5201, he almost didn't see Trevor sitting at the workstation. But then he looked in the corner and saw an attractive-looking female with her arm around someone, with a guy looking over their shoulders at the screen. Philip walked into the lab, fully intent on throwing a wrinkle into Trevor's carefully-planned day. Trevor didn't even hear Philip walk into the lab. (Well, he had his arm around Ann and vice versa; can you blame him?) In fact, he wasn't even aware that anyone had walked in until Philip was standing behind them and said "So how's it going, Trev?" Trevor turned around and, with total deadpan and nonchalance, glanced up and said "Oh, hi Phil." It took exactly 1.5 seconds for Trevor and his chair to tip over backwards and crash into the linoleum floor. "Excuse me," Trevor said in his best Garth impression. "I must have slipped." Then, without regard for who (or what, knowing Carnegie Mellon) else was in the lab, shouted out, "PHIL! WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?" Arch Moberley, the current cluster manager, glanced up from his station in the front of the room, thought about saying something, then, realizing the outburst had originated from Trevor, simply rolled his eyes and went back to his work. he noted to himself. Philip had a totally innocent look on his face when he answered, "Just visiting." Ann and Shawn just stood there, totally dumbfounded, not to mention entirely clueless. This state of mind surprised no one. * * * * "Phil, you *still* haven't explained how you got here," commented Trevor as they went out into the parking lot. "Do not worry, young grasshopper," quipped Philip, "All will become clear in a moment." Philip led Trevor back to the Citation. "No, it won't. How'd you get up here so fast? You logged on from Maryland this morning, and now you're _here_." "Good gas mileage?" he smiled innocently. "Grrrr..." "Don't worry, everything will be clear *real* soon. Now get in." Philip opened the door, tossed his backpack into the back seat, and got in; once in, he unlocked the passenger door and closed his own. "Oh, by the way, Trev, what time is it?" Philip asked as Trevor got in and closed the door. Trevor looked at his watch. "It's about 11:45." "Good. We'll get back just in time for Erasable Inc." Philip put the key into the ignition and started her up. "Philip, it's a four and a half hour drive." "No it isn't." Grin. "Phil...." Just then, a Semi truck pulled into the parking lot, blocking the entrance as the driver tried to find a space. "Oh, bloody hell!" exclaimed Trevor. "Now how are we going to get out? The road's blocked!" "Roads?" intoned Philip with an evil grin as he entered the liftoff code. "Where we're going we don't *need* roads." He flipped down his clip-on sunglasses, and pressed the star and infinity buttons. "Phil, what do you meann.....!" Trevor was cut off as the Citation rose into the air, setting course for UMCP. 14) --- Melmac Express ------------------------------------------------ "The First Rule of Fighter Combat is: Always make sure that the vehicle you're in *is* a fighter!" -- Philip Trevor looked around in the Citation with a look that said something between "Boy, I wish we did stuff like this in ECE" and "Oh man this isn't happening It only thinks it's happening..." "Uh... Phil?" he said tentatively. "What?" Philip answered with a tone of complete nonchalance. "WE'RE FLYING!" "And...?" With something of a compromise between a whimper and a groan, Trevor settled into the passenger seat and sat back to enjoy the ride, visions of "The captain has turned off the 'fasten seatbelt' sign" dancing through his head. Aerianne left CMSC 311 early. The notes on the board were taken directly from the book, and she had no doubt that they wouldn't change in the foreseeable future. Heading uphill, she proceeded towards the Student Union, always keeping an eye to the sky. However, nothing came, so she went inside, bought a salad, and went upstairs to the Atrium. Aerianne sat in the Atrium with her lunch, waiting for Philip and wondering if he would get there in time. She was so engrossed in thought that she didn't notice Gordo come in with his large lunch. "Aerianne!" She turned around in surprise. "Oh, hi Gordo! How's it going?" "Oh, quite well, quite well," he replied as he sat down. "Wait a moment. Where's Philip?" "Oh, he decided to take the Citation on it's maiden flight." "He actually used it?" interjected Rufus, as he entered the Atrium with his lunch. He sat down, and began to eat it. Gordo did the same, tearing into the pile of food before him. Aerianne just looked down at her salad. "Yeah. He just said that he was going to pick up a friend of his to see Inc." she thought to herself. "Well, I hope he's careful with it. I don't know if I got all the bugs worked out of it last night...I think I did...." Aerianne looked up. "?" "Velcro Two to Velcro One, we have a radar contact, mark 005 inbound." "Understood, Velcro Two, move to intercept. Velcro One out." Sloop, Larson Petty's aide-de-campe hooked the intercom and turned towards his leader. "What now, boss?" "Simple, Sloop. We'll find that renegade plane and take it down. And then," Petty cackled at the thought, "And then Ray will see that I, Larson Petty, scourge of Melmac, am the one to command the air forces!" "But sir, Ray wanted us to work together in peace and cooperation..." "Who cares? Once I've proved my air superiority, there will be no need for Ray to waste time with those Felizian rejects!" Petty sat back and chuckled. "But Phil?" asked Trevor, a little more calmly, for the 5th time that flight. "What, Trev, What?" replied Philip, who was still taking in the adrenalin rush. "How'd you get this?" he answered, indicating the car(?) around them. "Oh, that?" Philip laughed. "A friend built it for me." "Exsqeeze me? Bakingpowder?" "You heard me, a friend of mine built it for me." "Philip, this is _weird_, even for you..." "Thank you!" He paused. "Let me put it this way, Trev: Normalcy is obsolete now." Philip Smirked(tm). Putting his head in his hand, Trevor slowly shook his head and muttered, "Now?! Normalcy is obsolete *now*?!?! When was it ever *not*...?" "General Petty, General Petty, this is Velcro Two, over!" "Yes, Velcro Two," replied Petty, picking up the intercom, "What is it?" "I am coming within visual range of the unidentified bandit. Aquiring visual lock.... Sir, it looks like a car!" "A car?" Petty looked at Sloop, who shrugged. "Yes, sir! Estimated speed at Mach .4!" Petty returned his attention to the intercom. "Make a quick flyby of the vehicle to confirm, Velcro Two!" "Aye, Sir! Velcro Two out!" Petty changed the intercom to the squadron band and yelled into it. "All planes! Form up, and ATTACK!!" "I notice that you haven't consumed your salad yet, Aerianne," interjected Gordo as he finished off a helping of Roy's slaw. "What would the problem seem to be?" "Oh, I don't know..." She picked at her salad. "I honestly don't." "Would it have something to do with Philip?" "Yes, I suppose it would." Rufus joined the conversation with, "What about Philip?" "He seems to be ok, not at all uneasy around us as he was before, and that's alright, but..." "But what?" "I like him." "So? We like him too.." "No, I _like_ him...this is different in some way..." "But what I don't understand is, _why_ do you 'like' him?" "I don't know why, Rufus, but... it's really hard to describe..." "It would seem, Aerianne," continued Gordo, "That Philip is going through what seems to be called 'friendship', and that is what he considers the relationship to be. With all of us." "Yeah, I suppose so... But I wish..." "What?" "I don't know..." she whispered. The trip continued in silence. Trevor was still not sure what was going on, but was at least not panicking. Eventually, he began to hear a noise. Not knowing what it was, he asked Philip. "Do you hear somethin--" Velcro Two flew past the Citation, causing it to spin in its jet wash. <<>> "WHAT THE HELL?!?" exclaimed Trevor. Philip didn't pay much attention, as he was trying to regain control of the now pinwheeling Citation. Turning hard on the wheel and hitting the brakes, he managed to pull up and stop the rotation of the car. "What the hell was that?" "I have no clue, Trev," commented Philip as he adjusted the rear view mirror, "but let's find out." Looking in the mirror, which had changed to a TV screen since the thrusters blocked the rear view, Philip looked at the "plane" that had passed them. It had a large, bulbous body, with a small open-air cockpit. Beneath the cockpit, there were four guns of an unknown type. And on top of the spherical fuselage there were, of all things, a pair of wings *flapping*! Wondering how such a plane could move so fast, he looked further back and was able to see the pale glow of thrusters at full blast. thought Philip. "Of course!" he said, snapping his fingers. "Alf!" "Huh?" "That plane's from the Alf cartoon!" "I don't remember that one..." "Never mind." Looking back into the mirror, Philip saw four more jets fly into view. And in their lead was a strange, heavily thrustered, purple trident command cruiser. "Oh, *great*," Philip hit the wheel in anger, causing the car to dive down into the clouds. "We get to relive 'The Phantom Pilot'. I *don't* need this..." "In any case, from what I've read, any type of relationship is a cooperative venture. In order for it to succeed, both parties must be willing to cooperate and agree on the ground rules. In Philip's case, he is apparently content to keep it at the level it is." "I guess you're right, Gordo," smiled Aerianne as she began to eat her salad again. "I guess it'll have to do for now." The Citation-From-Hell flew through the clouds as Philip tried to stall for time. "Phil, what the hell is going on?" queried Trevor. "I don't know! I'm new at combat flying!" he snapped back. Philip muttered to himself, "All right, I've got to take out five enemy ships, with no weapons, no experience, and who knows what we have for fuel. Think think think think think," he tapped his head. With a start, he sat upright, a grin on his face. "Aha!" "What?" "Trev, check the glove compartment for a Pennsylvania Map." "Ok..." Trevor opened the compartment, and after wading through the assorted kipple, found a slightly beat-up PA-NJ map. He opened it up, revealing it to be one of the AAA variety, with a route mapped out in orange highlighter. "Philip, what are you planning to do?" "I'm gonna give them a tour of Pennsylvania they'll _never_ forget! *HANG ON*!" Philip stomped on the the accelerator. 15) --- Backroads ----------------------------------------------------- "Relax, enjoy the ride!" -- Rodimus Prime The Citation accelerated out of the cloud cover, catching the attention of the Melmacian jets. "General Petty!" Velcro Two's voice cried over the tac net. "We have spotted the enemy plane!" "I see that! All planes, attack!" The planes peeled out of formation, following the Citation. "PHILLLLLLL!!!!!" yelled Trevor as he was pushed back in the seat by the sudden acceleration. "Trev, snap out of it!" yelled Philip in return. "I need a navigator, and you're drafted!" "Hey, you're the one driving, you use the map!" "Well I would, but I can't look at it while I'm flying!" "Besides, I thought _you_ already knew how to get up here!" "Well, my parents were driving then! Keep an eye on those fighters, and tell me when we get close to Portage!" Trevor looked down through the window (which was fortunately closed), and commented, "How do you expect me to know where we're going when I can't see any of the road signs?" "Simple," Philip grinned maniacally. "We'll be flying _really_ low!" "What?!?!" gasped Trevor as Philip dived towards the trees. "General Petty, the car is diving towards the the surface!" stated Sloop. "I can see that, Sloop! Velcro Two," commanded Petty. "Follow that plane, and don't let it out of your sights!" "Aye, sir!" replied Velcro Two as his jet(?) dived after the Citation. Trevor glanced at the rear-view mirror-cum-tv screen. "Um, Philip, we seem to have someone following us!" "Great! How close are we to Portage?" "Um, I think you overshot it," he replied, looking at the map. "We're heading towards Altoona now." "Even better!" Philip turned the car in a wide arc, heading back the way they had come. "How close is the fighter?" "Right on our tail!" "Perfect!" Philip brought the Citation even closer to the ground, and the fighter behind them followed suit. "Care to explain that?" "Simple: I want to see how dumb they are," he replied as he rocketed towards the railroad bridge separating Portage from the surrounding countryside. "WHAT?!?!!" The Citation-From-Hell accelerated towards the tunnel, the Melmacian ship hot on his heels. Keeping himself well within the center of the tunnel entrance, Philip blasted through the tunnel and out the other side, shocking the few unfortunate individuals who were driving through the tunnel at the time. That shock turned to panic as the Melmacian plane, too close to veer off, shot through the tunnel as well, shearing its wings off in the process and scraping the sides as it tumbled through the tunnel. The plane-cum-scrap metal heap shot out of the tunnel like a cannonball, still being propelled by its thrusters, and crashed against an empty building, making a pretty fireball. "Yep, they're that dumb," commented Trevor as they flew over Portage towards the next place on the map. The next thing on the map was a series of roads that would lead to Route 220 South. The thing that made it tricky was that the roads were in the middle of the Appalachian Mountains, heavily forested, and that Philip was flying Nap-Of-the-Earth along them. The planes tried to intercept them whenever the Citation passed through a clearing. Most of the time, the jets managed to pull up once the trees reappeared, but one time one plane waited too long, and it crashed as its wings impacted the trees on both sides of the road. It tried to recover, but the sudden lack of wings made that kind of difficult, and the plane hit the road, bounced several times, and then fell off the side of the mountain into the valley below. Philip and Trevor exchanged a high five. "Yes!" Philip exclaimed as they came out onto 220 and turned south. "Two down and three to go!" "That's great, Phil," Trevor commented, "But have you considered that were coming on a straightaway?" "Straightaway?" Philip asked. Trevor tried to answer, but then a burst of laser fire cut across their path, several bolts hitting the Citation and shaking it. Philip kept control, and accelerated down the highway. "I can see how that _could_ be a problem..." he muttered as the car sped down the straightaway, Petty's planes in pursuit. "After them!" Petty yelled into the intercom as Sloop watched. "A million wernicks to the first plane that shoots them down!" "A _million_ wernicks? But General Petty, sir! We don't have any space in the budget!" Sloop tried to protest. "We'll worry about that later, Sloop! I WANT THAT SHIP!" Sloop watched as the ships continued to fire on the car. Meanwhile, Philip tried to dodge the laser blasts in the Citation. Needless to say, he wasn't doing _too_ well, but merely adequate. Another laser bolt hit the car. "The captain would like to inform you that we are about to encounter some slight turbulence..." Philip muttered. "_Slight_??? I'd hate to see your definition of _intense_!" Trevor shot back. This little 'joyride' had been taking it's toll on Trevor, and it showed. Philip, on the other hand, didn't seem to have much trouble accepting the situation. With a grin, Philip patted Trevor's shoulder comfortingly. "Don't worry! This last portion of the trip should take care of them!" "I don't want to know, but I'll ask anyway: 'How, Philip?'" "Simple: _Slalom_." Trevor groaned. As the Appalachian Mountains approach the Maryland border, and the changes in altitude become less severe, the Department of Roads changes their methods of road-laying. Instead of having to place the roads on the sides of the mountains and to insure that no one goes over the edge, they can blast through the lower hills, leaving quick-and dirty mini-valleys with sheer rock faces. And it was this portion of the highway that the little band of flying vehicles was approaching. Philip accelerated, and flew as close to the road as possible. Petty's jets, on the other hand, flew above the cars. The first sharp turn was ahead. Philip, misjudging the size of the turn, scraped into the side of the hill before continuing on. "That was _too_ close!" blurted Trevor. "I _noticed_ that, Mr. Calrissian," replied Philip as he went into another high speed turn. All three planes were still behind him, while the Purple ship flew above the road rally. However, one of the planes was not expecting a turn this soon after the previous one, and before he could react, he hit the cliff face and exploded. The other two planes flew through the fireball after their quarry. The Citation continued on, past the Breezewood rest stop, and down Route 70, taking out another plane as the road turned east. The racers crossed the Maryland border, and the last plane met its end at yet another sharp turn in Route 70. Petty could not believe it! All five of his jets were down! By an _automobile_! There was _no_ way now that he would be able to earn the respect of Ray. Petty pushed forward on the controls, and accelerated towards the Citation-From-Hell. "Uh, Philip?" said Trevor as he saw something in the mirror. "Yeah?" he answered, his eyes on the road (?). "You know that big Purple ship that was hanging back during all this time?" Trevor continued, getting nervous. "What about it?" Philip asked, still not comprehending. "It's getting close. _Real_ close..." He looked again. This was not good... "How close?" Philip tried to ask, but was cut off as the nose of Petty's ship hit the back underside of the Citation, flipping it in the air. "AAAUUUUGGGGHHHH!" Philip and Trevor screamed in unison as the car pinwheeled and lost altitude _fast_. Philip worked furiously, applying the brakes, the accelerator, and the wheel in attempt to steady the descending vehicle. By some combination of skill and dumb luck (mostly dumb luck), the Citation finally steadied, and flew forward once again. Although they _were_ a few hundred feet lower than they were before, the situation was still the same. "_That_ close," Trevor deadpanned as they regained equilibrium. "Ohhkaayyyy...." Philip responded as he thought furiously. He had used up all his tricks in taking out the smaller planes, and now that they were coming out of the mountains, they wouldn't work anyway. Most of Maryland was much gentler land, and the changes in altitude would be much softer. The race now would be much more one of a matter of speed, of which the Purple ship had in abundance. "Trev, look in the book," Philip said as he brought the Citation on a course parallel to that of the Potomac River. "See if there's anything about carrier landings." Trevor's face suddenly changed into an expression somewhere between caution and accusation. "What are you planning, Phil?" "Just do it, ok?" "Ok...." He picked up the small book and flipped through it, as Philip swerved and dodged to avoid the enemy jet. Petty grinned as his command cruiser beared down on the fleeing vehicle. There was no way that the little car could outrun his ship -- all he needed to do is wait for the pilot to make a mistake or run out of fuel, and then it would be over, and Petty would head back to FOWL in triumph. He cackled, and then raised his eyebrow as the vehicle moved over towards the nearby river. He followed. "Well, what do you know..." muttered Trevor as Philip continued to drive. "Yeah, what?" Philip asked, now trying to deal with an alien ship behind him, boats to the sides of the him, bridges to the front of him, and water beneath him. "There _is_ a section on Carrier Landings. Beats me _why_..." Philip whooped in triumph. "YES! PERFECT!" he exclaimed, also taking out Trevor's hearing in the process. The Citation and the cruiser continued to race down the Potomac river. They avoided the river traffic with ease, and whenever they came to a bridge, the car would fly under while the jet would fly over the roadway. Up ahead, the Cabin John bridge began to loom. Philip muttered "Perfect" with a smile as he entered another code. Beneath the Citation, a long arm hinged at the middle of the car frame lowered itself at an acute angle towards the water. Philip raised the Citation slightly; and then, as the alien ship was about to pull up, he dove to mere inches above the water. The arrestor hook hit the water, sending up a gigantic wave of water behind it. The wave was directly in Petty's path, and his view was blinded by the spray. "Throw her in reverse!" Petty commanded. "We don't have any reverse, sir! Budgetary cutback!" Sloop replied. The two cringed, and covered their eyes. KRUNCH!!!! The cruiser wedged itself under the bridge arch, unable to move. "Your hat, sir?" said Sloop as he fished it out of the water. He handed it to Petty, who put it on. It emptied itself with a sploosh, drenching Petty even further than he was. He sighed. He was _not_ relishing talking to Ray. Philip and Trevor flew away from the final crash and back to UMD, following the beltway since Philip doubted that the Air Force would appreciate it if he had flown over the White House and the Capitol. They were flying over University Boulevard when Philip looked at the fuel guage. This wasn't good. "Uh, Trev?" "Yeah?" "The fuel's _past_ 'E'." "So?" Trevor replied, before the situation dawned on him. "Ohshit!" he said in a small voice. "Exactly." Just then, the engine began to sputter. "Hold on!" Philip yelled as he struggled to control the car. Wyndi Anderson, Rebecca Dodds, Peter DeGlopper, James Rogers, and Galen Silversmith (hereafter known as "The Blairites") drifted into the Atrium of Stamp Student Union. They looked around nervously, feeling terribly out of place. Seeing as how they were all still in high school, they *were* all out place, but that's beside the point. "Well, where's Philip?" James was the first to break the uneasy silence. "Obviously, not here," Rebecca answered matter-of-factly. Wyndi glanced around, looking for any sign of Philip. "Well, Pooh Bear *said* he'd meet us here. I'm sure he'll show up." Galen and Peter looked around the Atrium, surveying the people present. Noticing Aerianne enter (and the reactions from every male in the room except, strangely enough, the two schmucks lucky enough to be sitting with her), Peter leaned over to Galen and whispered, "Aren't you glad Trevor's not here?" Aerianne came back to their table. "Inc's almost done warming up, they'll be out in a a couple of minutes or so." She sat down with a worried look on her face. "_When_ is Philip going to get here? He's gonna miss Inc!" Rufus looked at his watch. "Well, given the estimated rate of speed for a flying Citation, the given distance to and from CMU, and the time of departure, I predict that he should be dropping by..." A high pitched whine caught the attention of the occupants of the Atrium, as a small shadow on the floor below the middle skylight began to grow. As the shadow grew, the noise became louder, until... K-K-K-K-R-R-R-R-A-A-A-A-S-S-S-S-H-H-H-H!!!! The Citation-from-Hell flew (plummeted, actually) through the center skylight, totalling it, and continued its way to the ground. Fortunately, there were no tables beneath it, so no one was hurt; but _unfortunately_, that meant that there was nothing to cushion the Citation's fall. It impacted the tile floor with the sound of, well, metal on tile. It bounced once, due to it's slightly undamaged suspension, and settled onto the ground, shedding pieces of glass. "...any time now," finished Gordo for him with a smile.