scoonts.theminotaur-第45节
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gth and the wings took a firm bite into the warm morning air。
Now safely airborne； Rita slapped the gear handle up with her left hand。 Her right thumb flicked at the coolie…hat button on the top of the stick； trimming the stick pressure to neutral as the twin…engined warplane accelerated。
She checked to make sure the landing gear were up and locked。 They were。 Temps； RPMs； fuel flow normal。 Oil and hydraulic pressure okay。 Using her left hand again； she raised the flap handle as she caressed the stick with her right to hold the nose steady through the configuration change。 Accelerating nicely。 Flaps and slats up and in and the stabilizer shifted； she isolated the flight hydraulic system and continued to trim。 At 290 knots indicated she pulled the nose higher into the sky in order to ply with Jake Grafton's directive not to exceed 300 knots。
Toad had activated the IFF and was talking to Departure。 Now he switched to Los Angeles Center。 The controller asked him to push the identification button on the IFF…〃squawk ident〃…and he plied。 〃Xray Echo 22； radar contact。 e left to a heading of 020。 Passing Flight Level 180； proceed on course。〃
Rita Moravia dipped the left wing as Toad rogered。
When she leveled the wings on course； still climbing； he was humming and singing over the ICS as he tuned the radar presentation and checked that he had property entered the puter way…points。 〃hi…ho； hi…ho； it's off to work we go； with a hi…hi…hee and a fiddly…dee； hi…hi； ho…ho。。。〃
Rita grinned behind her oxygen mask。 Flying with the Toadman was an experience。 No wonder Captain Grafton's face softened every time he saw Tarkington。
She leveled the plane at Flight Level 310…31；000 feet…and engaged the autopilot。 Just above them a thin； wispy layer slid across the top of the canopy； so close it seemed they could almost reach up and let the gauzy tendrils slip around their fingers。 Rita looked ahead and tried to find that point where the motion of the ropy filaments seemed to originate as they came racing toward the cockpit； accelerating as the distance closed。 It was like flying just under an infinite； flat ceiling…some Steven Spielberg effect to give the audience a rush of speed and wonder as the woofers oomphed and the seats throbbed； before the credits came on the screen。
After a moment she disengaged the autopilot and let the nose creep up a smidgen。 Almost imperceptibly the plane rose a hundred feet； where the cloud layer literally sliced around the cockpit。 Toad picked that moment to withdraw his head from the radar scope and look slowly around。 After a moment he glanced at her and caught her eye。 She saw him wink； then readjust the hood and devote his attention to the puter and radar。
A lifetime of work； all for this。
She had been an outstanding student at an excellent suburban high school； one of those bright youngsters who applied themselves in a frenzy of self…discipline and diligence that separated her from her classmates； who were more interested in boys； music and peer acceptance than school。 She had shocked everyone； including her parents； by her announcement that she wanted to attend a military academy。 In due course an appointment to the Naval Academy came from a congressman who knew better than to echo her mother's surprise or horror in an era when socially correct posturing was more important than his voting record。
So she set forth bravely that summer after high school； at the age of eighteen； set off into the unknown world of plebes at the Naval Academy； this girl who had never set foot on a military installation； this girl who knew only that she wanted to make her own way in life and that way would be much different from those of her mother or the friends of her youth。
It had been worse than different。 It had been horrid； humiliating nightmare beyond anything she had imagined in her worst moments of trepidation。 All the sly taunts of her friends； bound for sororities and； they hoped； excellent marriages； hadn't even hinted at the emotional trauma she experienced those first weeks。 During the day she braced and marched and ran and endured the hazing and shouting to the point of exhaustion； and at night she sobbed herself to sleep wondering if she had made the right choice。 Finally one day she realized that she hadn't cried in a week。 Her second； more important revelation occurred one morning at breakfast when an upperclassman had demanded to know the name of the Soviets' chief arms negotiator。 She had answered the question correctly； and as he turned his attention to a gawky boy from Georgia seated beside her； she realized that these people were demanding nothing from her she could not acplish。 From then on she had cheerfully endured； and finally excelled。
She thought of those times this morning as the Intruder flew out from under the thin cloud layer into a crystal…clear desert sky and Toad Tarkington； the professional who had been there and back； caressed the system with a loving touch。 She had made the right choice。
Sixty miles out she once again disengaged the autopilot and lowered the nose slightly； then slowly pulled the throttles aft as her speed crept up toward 300 knots indicated。 She always liked the feel of the plane as it descended in these long； shallow； power…on glides； gravity helping the engines drive the plane down into the thicker； denser air near the earth。 She could feel every knot of the airspeed the engines didn't generate…free airspeed it seemed； though of course it wasn't。 Because she was the airplane and it was her； the energy was hers： the speed and the life and the power； she absorbed and possessed and became all of it。
Wingtip speed brakes cracked； but not enough。 She flicked them out some more and felt the buffeting of the disturbed air； a gentle shaking that imparted itself to her through the stick and throttles and the seat in which she sat。 Satisfied； she slid the speed…brake switch forward with her left thumb。 The boards closed obediently and the buffeting ceased。
The desert below was baked brown and red and grayish black unleavened by the green of life。 As she came down she could see sand and dirt in valleys and washes and rock the color of new iron in jagged cliffs and ridges。
Toad was chatting with Jake Grafton on the radio。 〃Never fear； the pros are here。〃
〃Amen；〃 Grafton replied。 It's a good thing Dodgers is back in China Lake； Rita thought。
〃Okay； Misty； I have you in sight。 Drop to about 8；000 on the pressure altimeter。〃…the land here was 4。000 feet above sea level…〃and e north up the valley until you see the van。 It's red and has a yellow cross on the top。〃
〃What kind of a cross；〃 she asked curiously。
〃Dodgers' son painted it。 Three guesses。〃
〃I see it。〃 At this height it was just a speck amid the dirt and boulders。
〃Okay； circle the van at a distance of three miles or so and I'll tell you when to turn on your gadget。〃
〃Roger that；〃 Toad said； and Rita flew away from the van； then turned to establish herself on the circle with her left wingtip pointed at the van。
Toad again examined the little box that had been taped to the top of the glare shield in front of him。 The box wasn't much。 It had a three…position power switch which he had had in the middle； or standby； position for the last five minutes。 While in standby the coolant was circulating around the Athena puter。 Beside the power switch was a little green light that would e on to verify that the puter was receiving electrical power； and another light； yellow； to show when the system was detecting signals from an outside source。 When that yellow tight was on； the Athena system was doing its thing。 There was a red light too； but that would illuminate only when the temperature of the super…cooled puter exceeded a level that endangered it。 If that light came on； Toad was to turn off the system。
Down on the ground Jake watched Harold Dodgers and Helmut Fritsche at the radar control panel。 〃Got 'em；〃 Fritsche said after a bit； speaking loudly over the steady snoring of the engine of the generator mounted on the trailer behind the van。 The engine noise muffled the moan of the Intruder's engines except when it had passed almost overhead。 Jake looked at the green display。 〃Tell 'em to turn it on。〃
Jake did so。 In less than two seconds the blip faded from the scope。 Magic！ Involuntarily he looked toward that spot in the sky where the plane had to be。 Yes。 there it was； just now a flash as the sun glinted from the canopy； then fading to a dull yet visible white spot in the washed…out blue。 He looked again at the scope。 Nothing。
〃Maybe if they tightened the circle； flew closer；〃 Fritsche suggested。
The plane was still invisible。 However； at five miles from the radar the strength of the emissions from Athena was too much： it beaconed and a false blip appeared at two miles and another at five。
〃Dad's gonna have to tweak it；〃 Harold Dodgers said； his voice confident and cheerful。 〃But by gum； it works。〃
〃Sure enough does；〃 Jake Grafton said； and wiped the perspiration from his forehead。 Hard to believe； but that crackpot and his genius son had invented a device that would revolutionize warfare。 Just as Admiral Henry had known it would。
After another twenty minutes； du
