It pained Marlene to have to hurt her friend, but she complied with Skipper's instructions and held onto him tightly, with her claws digging into his sides. Right after she did so, Skipper kicked a red button on the instrument panel with his foot.

The altimeter read just 509 feet above the earth as Skipper and Marlene shot out of the plane sideways. The ejection seat had performed exactly what it was designed to do.

"Aaaaahh!" Marlene screamed as she held onto Skipper, though he couldn't hear her due to the temporary deafness brought on by the ejection seat blast, nor could she even hear herself.

The parachute inside of the ejection seat then emerged and began to return Skipper and Marlene safely to the ground. They landed about 100 yards away from the smoldering wreckage of what had been their mode of transport, their hearts pounding as their feet made contact with the ground.

Marlene then released her death grip on Skipper and Skipper freed himself from the confines of the ejection seat. The two then resumed holding onto each other, only this time it was the hug of a lifetime.

"We're alive!" Marlene said joyfully. "Oh, Skipper, we're alive! Glory to God!"

Skipper raised a flipper to his ear hole to indicate that he couldn't yet hear.

"Neither can I," Marlene said as she shook her head and placed a paw to her own ear.

A few minutes later, their hearing came back, although there was still some residual ringing.

"Sorry about not being able to explain anything to you back on the plane," Skipper said. "The boys and I never got around to installing a second ejection seat, and I had little time to act."

"Don't worry about it," Marlene replied. "What matters is that we're safe and together. Though our plane going down was the scariest moment of my life."

"I hear you," Skipper responded. "It's definitely on my top 10 list."

Marlene then noticed some blood coming from Skipper's sides where she had held onto him as well as on her paws.

"Skipper, I hurt you," she said.

"No you didn't," Skipper replied. "You did exactly what I told you to do. If I didn't have you hold me that tight, there's no way you could have held on with the g-forces we experienced. And even if you could have without using your claws, I wouldn't have chanced your life on it."

"Thanks," Marlene smiled.

"Don't mention it," Skipper replied.

Suddenly, a crash of thunder broke into their conversation. The rain, which was a deluge to begin with, then began to fall even harder, now with a little hail mixed in. Skipper placed a flipper over Marlene's head to shield her the best he could.

"This storm is just relentless, isn't it?" Marlene said of the storm's ferocity. "What are we going to do now?"

"Likely get wet, catch colds, develop pneumonia, and perish," Skipper replied.

"Say what?" Marlene questioned.

"I'm only kidding, Marlene," Skipper replied. "If we lose our sense of humor, we'll lose our minds. But seriously, I can assure you that we are going to be OK."

"How, Skipper?" Marlene asked. "We're out in the middle of nowhere."

"Actually, Marlene, my gut tells me that we're more east of Nowhere," Skipper replied. "But anyway, we're not completely ill-prepared to survive against the elements. I've got just the thing to level the playing field with Mother Nature a little."

Skipper then left Marlene for a moment and waddled over to the ejection seat, which was now lying on the ground, and removed a panel from the back of it. He then removed an object from it as Marlene walked over to take a look.

"Here, this will pop itself up," Skipper said as he handed Marlene a package which contained a small survival tent. "Get inside of it before the rain gets any worse. I have one, too, and I'll place mine next to yours in a few minutes."

Marlene nodded and then proceeded to open up the package. Meanwhile, Skipper removed his own survival tent from the back of the ejection seat, as well as a nylon bag which contained four cans of fish, four bottles of water, matches, two flashlights, a pair of binoculars, a flare gun with cartridges, and a few random items that was also inside. He then carried his tent and bag over to where Marlene's tent stood and set up his tent beside it. He crawled in momentarily thereafter.

"What happens now?" Marlene asked from the dry shelter of her tent.

"We stay together and we stay close to this area," Skipper replied. "It won't be long before the boys are aware that we've gone down, assuming they don't know already. Kowalski's air traffic control system should be able to pinpoint our location; they'll come looking for us. I don't know how they'll get here – Commercial air? Train? Enterprise Rent-A-Car? – but I know they'll come looking."

"Timeframe?" Marlene asked.

"Several days, I imagine," Skipper replied.

"Days?" Marlene asked. "Skipper, how are we going to survive with nothing to eat?"

"I've got four cans of fish to start us off with," Skipper replied.

"And when they run out?" Marlene continued.

"We'll search around for edible plants and things like that," Skipper replied. "It'll be a hippie's diet, but we'll get by."

"But what if we find nothing and are forced to resort to cannibalism out of desperation?" Marlene continued.

"Well, we're different species, so that wouldn't really be cannibalism," Skipper replied.

"Skipper!" Marlene objected. "Not helping."

"Relax, Marlene," Skipper continued. "It will never come to that for three reasons. First, we just aren't going to be out here long enough before the boys come for starvation to be a real issue. Second, even if it was, I think either of us would rather die than even consider the thought of consuming the other. And third, my gut tells me things will be OK – no pun intended."

"Very well, Skipper," Marlene replied, accepting his confidence. "So, what can we do to kill some time around here?"

"How about a good game of 20 Questions?" Skipper suggested. "I'll pick first."

"Is it larger than a survival tent?" Marlene began.

Meanwhile, in New York City, three penguins stood atop their habitat's platform smiling and waving as a small group of zoo visitors left them to move on to another exhibit.

"What a rip – the last time I came I got to see four penguins," one of them could be heard muttering as he departed.

"What a grumpy Gus," Private commented as he shook his head. "He still got to see three penguins perform a show, so I think he still got his money's worth."

Kowalski nodded in agreement and then glanced upward toward the sun.

"Um, why are you staring at the sun, Kowalski?" Private asked puzzledly. "Don't you remember what happened to Manfredi and Johnson when they did that?"

"I wasn't staring at the sun, Private," Kowalski replied, turning to him. "I was merely peaking at it for but a moment to judge its solar position. And by the look of it, we're due to give Skipper and Marlene another call on the radio right about now."

"Ah, you're right," Private agreed.

And with that, the group made their way into the HQ for their latest radio rendezvous, with Kowalski leading the way. But when they arrived inside, something was amiss.

"Hey, Kowalski, where is that siren coming from?" Private asked as the team all heard an unfamiliar sound that sounded like a cross between a fire alarm and an air raid alert.

"It appears to be coming from our air traffic control console," Kowalski replied as he and the others waddled over to it.

There, the three gasped in unison as they read the alert message flashing on the screen.

"Kowalski, please tell me that 'Aircraft lost' just means that our radar is having trouble finding the signal of Skipper and Marlene's plane," Private said with a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"If that were the case, the alert would be 'Signal lost,'" Kowalski replied as he sniffled. "'Aircraft lost' only means one thing: They've … they've … they've gone down."

"No!" Private exclaimed as he jumped up and hugged Kowalski in fright. "Skipper! Marlene!"

"No! No! No!" Rico declared as he jumped up and down franticly.

"We've got to find them!" Private stated. "They could still be alive!"

"Yeah! Yeah!" Rico agreed.

"Private, I hate to say this," Kowalski began in a tearful tone, "but the odds that Skipper and Marlene could have possibly survived this are–"

"How can you even say such a thing?" Private objected. "Skipper taught you how to listen to your gut. Surely you – his first lieutenant, of all people – must know in your gut if our Skipper and his passenger are still alive. You've got to know. You've just got to."

Kowalski sighed and then closed his eyes for a moment. He thought about his last memories of seeing Skipper and Marlene when they had left the HQ the morning before and of talking to them by radio just hours ago. He traced over the route they had flown ever since they had left New York in his mind as he tried to summon forth some sort of sixth sense of their current mortal status. And then suddenly–

"They're alive!" Kowalski said as his eyes shot open. "I've got a gut feeling, and it feels pretty good. Yes, they are most definitely alive."

Rico and Private cheered at the good news delivered by Kowalski's instincts. But good news too often accompanies the bad.

"They're alive, but they still face dangers," Kowalski warned, quieting the celebration. "The sooner we find them, the better. Let's come up with a plan."

The three then spent the next 30 minutes or so discussing possibilities and tactics for launching a rescue mission so far away from New York. Once the plan was complete, Kowalski sighed.

"And now it falls on my shoulders to do something particularly difficult," he said.

"What would that be?" Private asked.

"I have to let Marlene's parents know that Skipper and Marlene's plane went down," Kowalski replied. "We do have the phone number for their habitat over in Monterey, right?"

"They don't have their own phone line, but we do have a number for communications going to the Monterey Bay Aquarium," Private replied. "We can reach them through that."

"OK," Kowalski said. "Could you please get it for me?"

Private nodded and then went to look up the number from an inter-zoo communications directory that the team had at the HQ. He returned to Kowalski momentarily and provided him the digits.

"And what's the area code?" Kowalski then asked. "You forgot to tell me that."

"Sorry," Private replied. "It's 831."

"Thanks," Kowalski said as he waddled to the phone and then dialed the long-distance number.

After a few rings, a female voice answered on the other end.

"Overseas operator," she said.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I must have misdialed," Kowalski apologized. "I was looking for the Monterey Bay Aquarium."

"Nah, you've reached it, hon," the female replied. "I just like to have a little fun when I answer the phone. My name is Peggy, and I'm sort of the animals' secretary around here. Were you trying to reach someone specific?"

"Yes, actually," Kowalski said. "You've recently gotten in an otter couple. I have an important matter I need to speak with them about."

"Ah, they're such a sweet pair," Peggy commented. "I'll send for them right now."

"Thanks," Kowalski said.

About three minutes later, a male voice was heard on the other end of the line.

"Hello?" he said.

Kowalski cleared his throat.

"Mr. DeOtter, my name is Kowalski, and I'm the second-in-command penguin at the Central Park–" he began.

"Oh, you're one of Marlene's friends, right?" Marlene's father broke-in. "Hey, you don't need to be so formal. You can call me Ray."

"Well, Ray, there's been a situation that I regretfully have to inform you of," Kowalski continued. "The airplane carrying your daughter and Skipper has been lost – it's gone down."

"My God!" Ray gasped. "Tell me they're OK, Kowalski. How bad were they injured?"

"I don't know, sir," Kowalski replied. "I don't even have any tangible proof that they survived the crash. All I have is my gut."

"Come again?" Ray inquired.

"Skipper trained us to listen to our gut instincts and beliefs when we can't physically see the whole situation or problem before us with our eyes," Kowalski replied. "It took me a little longer than the others to learn the skill, but I finally picked up on it. My gut tells me that both he and Marlene are alive, and I'm inclined to believe it. That's what Skipper would want me to do."

"Well, where did they go down?" Ray then asked.

"Colorado," Kowalski replied. "Somewhere west of Pueblo and east of the Utah state line. Unfortunately, my jury-rigged radar system isn't as accurate as I had hoped, so I'm unable to pinpoint anything more precise at the moment."

"Can they survive out there?" Ray inquired. "They must be in the middle of nowhere."

"Skipper is the most skilled and most loyal leader I've ever known, and your daughter has a good head on her shoulders," Kowalski replied. "I'm confident that they can make it through most anything as long as they stick together. And knowing them both the way I do, I know they'll never leave each other's side."

Kowalski then heard over the phone as Lynne walked up to Ray and asked him what was going on. He heard Ray reply something inaudible and then heard Lynne burst out in tears.

"Ray, we've got a rescue operation planned," Kowalski then said. "Tell your wife that everything is going to be OK."

Ray passed the message on to Lynne and then pressed Kowalski for more details.

"I'm an inventor," Kowalski replied. "Several months ago, I began working in secret on a penguin-sized version of a superblimp, a lighter-than-air craft I had once seen in a nightmare. I think if I really push myself and skimp on non-essential features, the airship can be finished in several days. Once complete, I will leave in it with the other two members of our Penguin Unit, Rico and Private, and fly it to Colorado to search for Skipper and Marlene and bring them home."

"Well, that sounds like a good plan," Ray responded. "Listen, can you do me a favor, Kowalski?"

"Sure," Kowalski replied.

"Two, actually," Ray continued. "First, can you call every day to update either me or Lynne on your progress? And second, would you give Marlene a big hug from us the second you find her and tell her how much we love her?"

"You can count on it, sir," Kowalski pledged.

"I appreciate it," Ray said. "Well, good luck to you. I better go – I've got to try to process everything that's just happened. As you might imagine, it's quite a shock."

"I understand," Kowalski replied. "Goodbye, Ray. I'll call again tomorrow."

"Goodbye," Ray said on the other end, hanging up the phone.

As Kowalski did the same at his end, he looked to his teammates.

"Let's get to work, boys," he said. "Rico, I'm going to need a hammer, a hacksaw, a grinding wheel, a T-square, an arc welder, a 60-foot tape measure, a micrometer, an assortment of nuts and bolts, a monkey wrench, an industrial jack, a rivet gun, several thousand cubic feet of helium …"

And so on. It was quite a task indeed.