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On December the second of 1940 the United States and the United Kingdom clinched a deal. In exchange for fifty destroyers with which the British government could fight Hitler on the high seas, the United States was granted land in a number of British possessions, for the purpose of establishing naval or air bases on ninety-nine year rent-free leases. One such base, Beane AFB, lies on the western coast of St. Lucia.

It was quite natural, of course, for the pilots at Beane to be on alert that October night given what had just happened in the Pacific. It was similarly quite natural for them to scramble all their jets immediately when the two-hundred-foot bogey appeared on the radar due south of their position and started heading westward.

They probably didn't expect the orders to swing south to Mustique and pick up four passengers and their nuclear accelerators, though.

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"Whooooeee." The Hornet pilot shakes his head, squinting out the jet's window. "That Gozer guy's hauling some serious ass."

"No more than we are," says Ray. He's trying not to let the jet's motions get to him. Ray's all right with flying, but small planes move around far too much for his liking, and even a full-sized multipurpose fighter like the Hornet still qualifies as 'small' compared to the beasts that take off from La Guardia. "We're all in the same boat this time."

"Yeah, but I've got a jet to do it with," the pilot points out. "That guy's about as aerodynamic as a brick. Hey, how's your passenger holding up back there?"

Comments

[facile-fivefold.livejournal.com]

"Jhalak likes flying! Approve very much!"

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"Excellent." The pilot offers a thumbs up, although that's probably hard to see from the copilot's rear seat. "Hold on tight. The Big G's picking up steam, we're gonna accelerate."

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"Big G." "Big October thing, for big October conflict." "Ray has-- had-- good idea." "Good idea hasn't gone anywhere; still has it!" "Is idea still present after execution?" "During execution. Conflict didn't happen yet." "Choosing form of Gozer and big October conflict are different ideas." "One follows logically from other. Same."

...Jhalak likes arguing semantics with itself.

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"... is it always like that?" inquires the pilot as the plane's engine roar jumps another several notches.

"You get used to it pretty quickly," Ray says. "I hardly even notice."

"Gotcha."

There's a pause.

"Hey, uh, question for you guys... either of you ever broken the sound barrier?"

[facile-fivefold.livejournal.com]

"Sound barrier?" "What's it mean?"

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"He means have either of us ever traveled faster than the speed of sound," Ray says. "I take it we're going to have to accelerate some more?"

"Hell yeah. Gozer's pouring it on like there's no tomorrow."

Forty years in academia and seven years at the court of the Serpent Queen can teach even someone as thick as Ray a certain amount of tact. He keeps if this doesn't work there probably isn't going to be a tomorrow to himself, thanks.

[facile-fivefold.livejournal.com]

"Is always a tomorrow." "Might not have this planet in it, though."

...Jhalak isn't so good with the tact thing.

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"I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that," the pilot says after a moment. "Hang on tight, kids."

Hel-loo, Mr. G-Force.

[facile-fivefold.livejournal.com]

It lets out a delighted giggle, raising an arm to stare at the pilot.

"How fast is plane accelerating?" "Fast, fast. Going fast, too." "Same word for big speed and big acceleration. Language is imprecise." "How fast?" "How fast, how fast?"

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The pilot cheerfully rattles off a number, then adds, "We're heading up to Mach 1.8 for this next part. One thousand one hundred and ninety miles per hour. Might have to slow down some partway to the Pacific and get an in-flight refueling done but that's not gonna take long."

[facile-fivefold.livejournal.com]

"One thousand one hundred ninety. One one nine zero. In base two, 10010100110. In base three, 1122002. In base five, 14230. In base eight, 2246. In base twelve, 832. In base sixteen, 4A6. In base thirty-six, X2."

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"Yeah, that's about the size of it. Here goes nothing, kids."

Even at the kind of speeds the pilot's describing, it's still a long trip. R'lyeh is, after all, pretty much as far from land as it is possible to get and still be on Earth to any great extent. Why Gozer isn't traveling faster, or teleporting, or something Ray doesn't know. Maybe he's just showing off, or trying to draw an audience or something. The important thing is that they have a prayer of keeping up with him.

"I hope this works, Jhalak," Ray murmurs, trying very hard not to think about the possible consequences if it doesn't.

[facile-fivefold.livejournal.com]

"Me too," it agrees, and falls quiet for once.

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Some considerable time later, the cockpit radio crackles. "Hey, guys," calls Peter's voice over the airwaves, "you might wanna look out your window about now..."

Skyglow and false dawn happen all the time as planes pass into night. Sickly green fingers of illumination stretching up the clouded skies, not so much.

"Looks to me like we're getting close."

[facile-fivefold.livejournal.com]

"The sky is green," Jhalak observes. "Strange phenomenon." "Strange phenomena happen a lot."

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The pilot lets out a long, low whistle, but says nothing. A moment later Egon's strained-sounding voice notes over the radio, "This whole thing is severely taxing the capabilities of my PKE meter. I don't know if we'll be able to get any readings at all."

"That's the Spengs I know," Peter says cheerfully. "We're flying halfway around the world to see a world-destroying Babylonian god-"

"Sumerian, Peter."

"-Sumerian god throw down with the God of Calamari at nuclear ground zero and you're worried about a little thing like scientific research."

"This isn't exactly the kind of opportunity that comes up more than once in a lifetime, Peter."

"Hey, you're assuming we get more lifetime than-"

"Dr. Venkman, this is Lieutenant Parvis, your pilot," comes yet another voice. "Would you kindly mind shutting your yap? I have to land this thing."

[facile-fivefold.livejournal.com]

"Shut your yap is colloquialism?" "Means stop talking." "Dr. Venkman doesn't shut his yap very often."

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"That's Peter for you," Ray agrees. "I take it that means we're landing too?"

"Yep. The good people of the U.S.S. Peleliu're waiting for us right at the edge of the viability envelope," says the pilot. "Gonna take us a little bit to come down to landing altitude and drop our speed, so hold on tight and try not to look down, okay?"

[facile-fivefold.livejournal.com]

"Hold on tight," Jhalak agrees. "Jhalak holds on." "Is holding."

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La Guardia Airport is infamous for the approach to its unnervingly short runways involving coming in directly over Flushing Bay to such a degree that most first-time passengers assume they're about to crash into the water. They, it would seem, have never experienced an aircraft carrier landing.

"... I don't see the boat," Ray notes after looking out the window.

"Told you not to look down, Dr. Stantz. You'll be a lot happier if you ... stop...."

There's a pause as the pilot goes silent. Eventually, he clears his throat.

"Peleliu, this is Lieutenant Frisch. What in the hell is up with the water around your position?"

[facile-fivefold.livejournal.com]

Jhalak raises two arms to peer out the window.

"...Fish are running away," it concludes.

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That is putting it mildly. Very mildly. Has the reader ever seen a salmon run? Hundreds of thousands of fish all desperately trying to obey undeniable instinct and be the first to get upstream and get busy as quickly as possible? The fish run so thickly under those conditions that in some places they say you can walk across the river on the fishes' backs.

This is no river. This is the middle of the Pacific Ocean. And there is no mating instinct involved. These are fish trying, with all the might their piscine brains possess, to get away from Cthulhu's presence.

The ocean below is alive with terrified sea life as far as the eye can see.

[facile-fivefold.livejournal.com]

"Away from big October thing."

It focuses a third eye on the window, clinging to the seat with its remaining two arms.

"Everything runs away."

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"Except us," Ray murmurs.

He hadn't realized it was quite this hard to do his job with an actual measurable survival instinct.

"Well- here goes nothing..."

The plane dives for one particular grey speck that rapidly enlarges into the form of an aircraft carrier. Ray closes his eyes.

[facile-fivefold.livejournal.com]

Jhalak watches with interest.

"Whee," it chirps.