| Associates News Press Report: ANP embedded reporter Benjamin Quebert is with the Reindeer Revolution during their ongoing battle against the Enemies of Christmas. Benjamin's story continues. "There's a lot I won't have time to tell you, but here goes. OK, so this is the primary rocket thruster system. You need to watch the intercooler manifold pressure and temperature. If it gets into the red, you need to throttle down, otherwise you could blow the whole thing right past next Christmas." "That's really bad, right?" Earlier - Q-Pid has thrown back the tarp that's been hiding his latest, and perhaps greatest invention - a new, rocket powered sled he had hoped to convince Santa to use before the events of the last two weeks unfolded. The NCC1225 is a radical departure for the MCDS crew - it's high-tech to the max. Q-Pid calls the loss of tradition a shame, but says that the world has moved on and Santa needs to as well. The new sled, along with a stealth design features rocket thrusters that can enable it to (theoretically) hit Mach 3, or thrice the speed of sound. The reindeer inventor does admit, however, that he's never had the chance to really "open her up," as he puts it and advises the little elf that it might be best "not to push past Mach 2" until he can run some more tests. But all tradition is not lost. Q-Pid admits while he has leaned heavily on technology, "it wouldn't be Santa's sleigh without a wee bit of elfish magic, now would it?" More he will not say. Now, with Santa and the rest of the Reindeer revolution pinned down, in danger and without a means of escape, Q-Pid must throw the dice and trust that his new invention has what it takes to take the day. |
Just'l the elf is understandable nervous. Drafted as the pilot of the supersonic craft, he admits that his only other flying experience is with Microsoft's Computer Flight Simulator. He tells us that he's only gotten to the second level and admits that "he crashes sometimes." And dear reader, what will I be doing? Forced to decided between being an unbiased recorder of history and a man who is unwilling to let the battle for Christmas be lost, I am the new co-pilot. Despite his warnings, Just'l turns out to be an excellent pilot, one of those rare people for whom all the elements come together as they hold a set of controls. His movements, somewhat shaky as we departed have quickly become smooth and sure. Q-Pid has remained at the base and continues to monitor the situation and our progress. "Benjamin," Just'l says to me as we clear the ice cap of the North Pole, some 3 miles below us, "There's an orange light here. I don't know what it means. It must be some kind of warning." "Is it the intercooler????" I ask, Q-pids warning about the sled blowing us "right past next Christmas," replaying in my mind. "I don't think so, but I just don't know." It's now that a siren starts going off. It sounds somewhat like one of these whoop-whoop-whoop car alarms and keeps getting faster and faster. "Q-pid!" I call into the radio, hoping that I've correctly understood the directions and that I'm working it right. "We have a problem!" |
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