There was a soft whirring sound. The President said, "May I ask where we are?"
"Certainly, sir. We are in a small ship. We are crossing your country at around one hundred thousand of your feet."
"At what speed?"
This gave the young man pause. "It would be very hard to translate into terms with which you are familiar. I would say roughly the speed of light. The major time-lapse is consumed in ascent and descent."
The President showed great interest. "Tell me this—we were moved from my study through some scientific process I won't ask you to explain, but why weren't we carried the entire distance to Ranier in that manner?"
The young man pondered. "That is of course difficult for you to understand. And quite difficult for me to explain so allow me to put it this way. When planning a trip from Washington to New York, you walk from your office to your car, and ride in the car from your residence to the airport."
"I see—a matter of slower speeds over short distances."
"In a way, but more so a matter of practicality. You could hardly bring the car into your office nor the aircraft onto your front lawn."
The President let it rest there. He said, "One more thing—why was I not contacted directly in this matter?"
This embarrassed the young man. "Wherever we go, sir, we attempt to conform to customs and manner existing in that place. We understood that to reach The President of the United States, one always proceeds through channels."