scoonts.theminotaur-第14章

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ops　and　askew　drawers　of　the　desks　proclaimed　them　veterans　of　other　offices；　other　bureaucratic　struggles　now　forgotten。　Office　equipment　was　scattered　all　over　the　room：　a　dozen　puter　terminals；　four　printers；　a　copy　machine；　a　paper　shredder；　and　a　fax　machine　linked　to　an　encryption　device。　Jake's　office　would　be　one　of　the　two　small　private　offices。　These　two　small　offices　each　had　an　outside　window　and　a　blackboard；　plus　the　usual　filing　cabinets　with　bination　locks　on　the　drawers。
　But　the　security…wow！　There　were　two　entry　doors；　each　with　cipher　locks；　and　a　closed…circuit　television　that　monitored　the　dead　space　between　the　doors。　An　armed　security　team　was　on　duty　inside　twenty…four　hours　a　day。　Their　business　was　to　check　each　person　entering　the　space　against　a　master　list　and　log　them　in　and　out。　The　windows　had　the　music　sound　vibrators　and　could　not　be　opened。　The　shades　were　permanently　closed。　The　fire　extinguisher　system　in　the　ceiling　had　plastic　cutouts　installed　in　the　pipes　so　that　they　would　not　conduct　sound。
　〃Every　sheet　of　paper　is　numbered　and　accounted　for；〃　the　admiral　told　Jake。　〃The　phone　numbers　are　unlisted　and　changed　monthly。　I　can　never　find　my　number　sheet；　so　I　end　up　walking　down　here。〃
　After　a　quick　tour；　Jake　stood　in　the　middle　of　the　room　with　the　admiral。　〃Where'd　they　get　this　carpet？〃
　〃Stole　it　someplace。　I　never　asked。〃
　〃Sure　would　be　nice　to　get　a　little　bigger　space。　Thirty　people？〃
　〃This　is　all　the　space　I　have　to　give　you。　It　takes　the　signature　of　an　Assistant　Secretary　of　the　Navy　to　get　space　not　assigned　to　NAVAIR。　I　haven't　had　time　to　kiss　his　ass。　But　if　you　can　get　his　scrawl；　go　for　it。〃
　〃Nothing's　too　good　for　the　boys　in　navy　blue；〃　Toad　Tarkington　chirped　cheerfully　from　his　little　desk　against　one　wall；　loud　enough　to　draw　a　frosty　glance　from　the　admiral。
　〃You're　Tarkington？〃　Dunedin　said。
　〃Yessir。〃
　〃I　hear　you　suffer　from　a　mouth　problem　from　time　to　time。　If　it's　incurable　your　naval　career　is　about　to　hit　the　wall。　You　read　me？〃
　〃Yessir。〃
　Dunedin　raised　his　voice。　〃Okay；　folks。　Gather　around。　I　want　you　to　meet　Captain　Jake　Grafton；　the　new　program　manager。　He's　your　new　boss。〃　Dunedin　launched　into　a　traditional　〃wele　aboard〃　speech。　When　he　was　finished　Jake　told　the　attentive　faces　how　pleased　he　was　to　be　there；　then　he　and　the　admiral　shook　hands。　After　a　quick　whispered　word　with　Fritsche；　Dunedin　left　the　office。　Jake　invited　the　manders　and　civilian　experts　into　his　new　cubbyhole。　It　was　a　very　tight　fit。　Folding　chairs　were　packed　in　and　the　place　became　stuffy　in　minutes。　They　filled　him　in　on　the　state　of　the　project　and　their　roles　in　it。　Jake　said　nothing　about　his　visits　with　the　admirals　and　gave　no　hint　that　he　knew　anything　about　the　project。
　He　looked　over　Helmut　Fritsche　first；　the　radar　expert　from　Caltech。　About　fifty；　be　was　heavyset；　of　medium　height；　and　sported　a　Hemingway　beard　which　he　liked　to　stroke　when　he　talked。　He　had　alert；　intelligent　eyes　that　roamed　constantly；　even　when　he　was　addressing　someone。　He　spoke　slowly；　carefully；　choosing　his　words。　He　struck　Jake　as　an　intelligent；　learned　man　who　had　long　ago　resigned　himself　to　spending　most　of　his　life　in　the　pany　of　fools。
　George　Wilson　was　at　least　five　years　younger　than　Fritsche　and　much　leaner。　He　spoke　slowly；　in　cadenced　phrases；　automatically　allowing　his　listeners　to　take　notes　if　they　wished。　When　he　used　his　third　pun　Jake　finally　noticed。　Listening　more　carefully；　he　picked　up　two　double　entendres　and　another　pun。　At　first　blush　Wilson　seemed　a　man　in　love　with　the　sound　of　his　own　voice；　but　Jake　decided　that　impression　didn't　do　justice　to　the　fertile；　active　mind　of　the　professor　of　aeronautical　engineering。
　The　A…6　bombardier；　mander　Les　Richards；　looked　as　old　as　Fritsche　although　he　couldn't　have　been　a　day　over　forty…two　or　forty…three。　Jake　had　met　him　years　ago　at　NAS　Oceana。　They　had　never　been　in　the　same　squadron　together　but　had　a　speaking　acquaintance。　Richards'　tired　face　contained　tired　eyes。　Jake　remembered　that　just　a　year　or　so　ago　Richards　had　manded　an　A…6　squadron；　so　this　assignment　was　his　post…mand　tour。　His　eyes　told　whoever　looked　that　the　navy　was　no　longer　an　adventure；　if　indeed　it　ever　had　been。　The　navy　and　perhaps　life　itself　were　experiences　to　be　endured　on　this　long；　joyless　journey　toward　the　grave。　If　he　caught　any　of　Wilson's　wordplay　his　face　gave　no　hint。　In　spite　of　his　demeanor；　Jake　knew；　Richards　had　the　reputation　of　being　an　aggressive；　petent　manager；　a　man　who　got　things　done。
　mander　〃Smoke〃　Judy　was　an　F…14　pilot。　Like　all　the　manders；　he　had　had　a　squadron　mand　tour。　Smoke　was　short　and　feisty。　He　looked　like　a　man　who　would　rather　fight　than　eat。　The　joyous　petitive　spirit　of　the　fighter　pilot　seemed　incarnate　in　him。　A　fire…eater…no　doubt　that　was　the　origin　of　his　nickname；　which　had　probably　ceased　to　be　a　nickname　long　ago。　Jake　suspected　that　his　wife　and　even　his　mother　now　called　him　Smoke。
　Dalton　Harris　was　an　extrovert；　a　man　with　a　ready　smile。　He　grinned　nervously　at　George　Wilson's　humor　and　glanced　at　him　expectantly　every　time　it　seemed　Wilson　might　bee　inspired。　He　was　a　lithe；　pact　man；　as　full　of　nervous　energy　as　Judy。　An　alumnus　of　the　EA…6B　Prowler　munity；　he　was　an　expert　in　electronic　warfare。　He　even　had　a　master's　in　electrical　engineering　from　the　Naval　Postgraduate　School。
　The　other　two　manders；　Aeronautical　Engineering　Duty　Officers；　were　equally　interesting。　Technical　petence　was　their　stock…in…trade。
　An　excellent　group；　Jake　decided　as　the　conversation　wound　down；　good　shipmates。　Harold　Strong　and　Admiral　Dunedin　had　chosen　well。　He　glanced　at　his　watch　with　a　start；　they　had　been　talking　about　the　A…12　for　two　hours。　In　parting　he　told　them。　〃I　want　a　plete　inventory　of　the　accountable　classified　material　started　tomorrow。　Every　document　will　be　sighted　by　two　officers　and　they'll　both　sign　the　list。〃
　〃We　did　an　inventory　after　Captain　Strong　died。　Took　two　weeks。〃
　〃You'd　better　hope　I　don't　kick　the　bucket　any　time　soon　or　you'll　be　doing　it　a　couple　more　times。〃
　Jake　spent　five　minutes　with　each　of　the　other　officers；　saving　Moravia　and　Tarkington　for　last。　He　saw　them　together。　After　the　preliminaries　he　said；　〃Miss　Moravia；　I'm　going　to　be　blunt。　You　don't　seem　to　have　any　test…flying　experience　other　than　Test　Pilot　School。〃
　〃That's　right；　sir。　But　I　can　do　the　job。　Try　me　and　see。〃
　Moravia　was　of　medium　height；　with　an　excellent　figure　and　a　face　to　match。　Subtle　makeup；　every　hair　in　place。　Her　gold　naval　aviator　wings　gleamed　above　the　left　breast　pocket　of　her　blue　uniform。　Try　me　and　see…that　fierce　self…confidence　separated　those　who　could　from　those　who　never　would。
　Tarkington　seemed　to　treat　her　with　deference　and　respect；　Jake　noted　wryly。　〃Ever　flown　an　A…6？〃
　〃About　two　hours　or　so　at　Pax　River；　sir。〃　Jake　knew　how　that　worked。　During　the　course　of　his　training　at　Test　Pilot　School…TPS…each　student　flew　anywhere　from　twelve　to　seventeen　different　kinds　of　aircraft。　The　final　examination　to　qualify　for　graduation　consisted　of　writing　a　plete　flying　qualities　and　performance　evaluation　of　an　airplane　the　student　had　not　flown　before。　The　student　was　handed　a　manual；　and　after　studying　it；　was　allowed　to　fly　the　airplane　for　four　flights　or　six　hours'　flight　time；　whichever　came　first。　On　the　basis　of　this　short　exposure　the　student　then　wrote　the　report。　Rita　Moravia　was　an　honors　graduate　of　that　program。
　Try　me　and　see！
　〃I　want　you　and　Tarkington　to　leave　for　Whidbey　Island　tomorrow　morning。　The　folks　at　VA…128　are　expecting　you。〃　VA…128　was　the　replacement　training　squadron　for　A…6　Intruders　on　the　West　Coast。　〃They're　going　to　give　you　a　crash　course　on　how　to　fly　an　A…6。　Report　directly　to　the　squadron　skipper　when　you　get　there　tomorrow。　Mrs。　Forsythe　in　the　admiral's　office　is　getting　you　orders　and　plane　tickets。〃　He　looked　again　at　his　watch。　〃She　should　have　them　for　you　now。〃
　〃Aye　aye；　sir；〃　Moravia　said　and　stood　up。　〃Is　there　anything　else；　sir？〃
　〃Remember　that　nobody　at　Whidbey　has　a　need　to　know　anything。　You'll　be　asked　no　questions　by　the　senior　people。　The　junior　ones　wil