scoonts.theminotaur-第15章

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　〃Remember　that　nobody　at　Whidbey　has　a　need　to　know　anything。　You'll　be　asked　no　questions　by　the　senior　people。　The　junior　ones　will　be　curious；　so　just　say　the　Pentagon　sent　you　to　fly。　That's　it。　Learn　everything　you　can　about　the　plane　and　its　mission。　And　don't　crash　one。〃
　Miss　Moravia　nodded　and　left；　but　Toad　lingered。
　〃Uh；　CAG；〃　Toad　said；　〃I'm　a　fighter　type　and　this　attack；　puke　stuff…〃
　〃The　admiral　says　that　anyone　I　want　to　get　rid　of　can　winter　over　in　Antarctica。　You　want　to　go　all　the　way　south？〃
　〃I'll　take　Whidbey；　sir。〃
　〃I　thought　you　would。〃　He　picked　up　some　paper　on　his　desk　and　looked　at　it；　signaling　the　end　of　the　interview。　〃Oh；〃　he　added；　looking　up　again；　〃by　the　way；　you　stay　the　hell　away　from　Moravia。　Absolutely　no　romance。　Keep　it　strictly　business。　You'd　mope　around　here　like　a　whipped　puppy　after　she　ditched　you。　I　haven't　got　the　stomach　for　another　sorry　spectacle　like　that。〃
　The　office　emptied　at　5：30。　Jake　stayed；　sorting　through　the　paper　that　had　accumulated　in　Strong's　in…basket。　Most　of　it　he　threw　in　the　waste　can　under　his　desk。　Memos　and　letters　and　position　papers　that　looked　important　he　saved　for　later　scrutiny。
　When　he　finished　with　the　in…basket　pile　he　began　rooting　through　the　desk　drawers。　Unbelievable！　Here　at　the　back　of　the　wide；　shallow　drawer　above　his　knees　was　an　old　memo　on　army　stationery；　dated　1956。　Where　had　they　gotten　these　desks？　And　what　else　was　in　here？　Maybe　he　would　find　an　announcement　from　the　War　Department　that　Japan　had　surrendered。
　Alas；　nothing　so　extraordinary。　A　two…year　old　date　book；　most　of　the　pages　blank。　Some　matchbooks　from　a　restaurant…perhaps　Strong　liked　to　drop　in　there　for　a　cup　of　coffee。　Three　envelopes　addressed　to　Strong　in　a　feminine　hand：　empty　envelopes　with　the　stamp　canceled；　no　return　address。　One　broken　shoelace；　a　button　that　didn't　look　like　it　came　from　a　uniform；　two　rubber　bands；　a　collection　of　government　pens　and　#2　lead　pencils。　He　tried　the　pens　on　scrap　paper。　Most　of　them　still　worked。　Some　of　the　erasers　on　the　pencils　were　pretty　worn。
　So　Harold　Strong　had　been　murdered。
　And　Admiral　Henry　had　throttled　the　investigation　even　before　it　started。　Or　so　he　said。
　He　shook　his　head　in　annoyance。　Those　problems　were　not　his　concern。　His　job　was　to　run　this　project。　With　the　A…12　still　in　the　prototype　stage；　many　major　decisions　remained　to　be　made。　Jake　already　knew　where　he　would　throw　his　weight；　what　little　he　had。　For　too　long；　in　his　opinion；　the　military　had　been　stuck　with　airplanes　designed　to　acplish　so　many　disparate　missions　that　they　were　unable　to　do　any　of　them　well。　If　they　wanted　an　attack　plane；　then　by　God　he　would　argue　like　hell　for　a　capable　attack　plane。
　Every　aircraft　design　involved　inevitable　trade…offs：　fuel　capacity　was　traded　for　strength　and　maneuverability；　weapons…carrying　capacity　sacrificed　for　speed；　maneuverability　surrendered　for　stability；　and　so　on；　because　every　aircraft　had　to　have　all　of　these　things；　yet　it　needed　these　things　in　degrees　that　varied　with　its　mission。　But　with　stealth　literally　everything　was　being　promised　in　varying　degrees　to　achieve　invisibility；　or　in　the　jargon　of　the　trade；　survivability。
　For　two　hours　this　afternoon　the　manders　and　experts　had　argued　that　a　plane　that　could　not　survive　over　the　modern　battlefield　was　not　worth　having。　Yet　a　plane　that　did　survive　but　could　not　fight　was　equally　worthless。　Somewhere　between　these　two　extremes　was　a　balance。
　The　other　major　consideration　that　had　been　tossed　around　this　afternoon　was　a　conundrum　that　baffled　politicians　and　generals　as　well　as　aircraft　designers。　What　war　do　you　build　your　airplane　to　fight？　World　War　III　nuclear？　World　War　conventional？　Vietnam？　Anti…terrorist　raids　against　Libya？　The　answer；　Jake　believed；　had　to　be　all　of　them。　Yet　achieving　survivability　over　the　European　battlefield　might　well　mean　trading　away　conventional　iron…bomb…carrying　capacity　that　would　be　essential　in　future　brushfire　wars；　like　Vietnam。　Megabuck　smart　missiles　were　currently　in　vogue　but　the　nation　could　never　afford　enough　of　them　to　fight　any　war　that　lasted　longer　than　two　weeks。
　This　job　was　not　going　to　be　easy；　or　dull。
　〃She…it；〃　Jake　Grafton　said　aloud；　drawing　the　word　out　slowly。　When　you　looked　at　Tyler　Henry　and　listened　to　him　he　seemed　okay。　But　if　all　you　did　was　listen　to　the　words…well；　it　sure　did　make　you　wonder。　Spies？　Murder　investigations　put　on　hold？　Was　Henry　some　paranoid　wacko；　some　coconut　schizo　on　the　naked　edge　who　ought　to　be　locked　in　the　bowels　of　St。　Elizabeth's　without　his　belt　and　shoelaces？
　The　first　thing　I　ought　to　do；　Jake　told　himself；　before　I　go　see　the　ultimate　war　machine　manufactured　by　some　greedy　Gyro　Gearloose　in　a　garage　in　California；　is　check　out　Henry。　It　would　be　nice　to　know　that　the　big　boss　has　all　his　marbles。　It　would　be　damn　nice　to　know　if　he　doesn't。　Dunedin　wanted　Jake　to　salute　and　march。
　〃A　fellow　never　gets　very　far　marching　in　the　dark；　anyhow；〃　Jake　said　aloud。　〃Too　much　stuff　out　there　to　trip　over。〃
　He　used　one　of　the　black　government　pens　from　Strong's　hoard　to　write　a　note　for　the　senior　secretary's　desk。　What　was　her　name？　Mrs。　Pulliam。　There　were　just　two　secretaries；　both　civilians。
　The　note　informed　all　and　sundry　he　would　be　in　late　tomorrow；　after　lunch。　He　had　a　moment　of　doubt。　There　was　so　much　to　be　done　here。　Yet　they　had　gotten　along　without　a　project　manager　for　two　months　now；　they　could　suffer　through　another　day。
　
　5
　
　Toad　Tarkington　lowered　himself　into　a　seat　against　the　window　on　the　left　side　of　the　airplane；　Boeing　727。　Three　engines；　he　noted　with　satisfaction。　Airliners　made　him　nervous　these　days。　He　couldn't　see　the　guys　flying　or　monitor　the　instruments　and　he　had　no　ejection　seat；　so　he　couldn't　boogy　on　out　if　the　clowns　up　front　hamtmrgered　it；　which；　from　what　he　read　in　the　newspapers；　they　had　been　doing　lately　with　distressing　frequency。　Luckily　this　flight　to　Seattle　was　almost　empty；　so　after　the　crash　there　wouldn't　be　any　unsightly　mob　ripping　out　hair　and　eyeballs　scrambling　for　the　emergency　exits。
　He　glanced　across　the　four　empty　seats　and　the　aisle　at　Rita　Moravia　sitting　against　the　window　on　the　right　side。　Now　there　was　one　cold；　cold　woman。　She　hadn't　yet　smiled　in　his　presence　or　given　any　indication　she　ever　would。　The　old　Tarkington　charm　rolled　right　over　her　as　if　it　had　gone　bad　in　the　winter　of　'85；　turned　sour　and　rotten　and　gave　off　an　evil　odor。
　The　plane　began　to　move。　Backwards。　They　were　pushing　it　out。　Toad　glanced　at　his　watch。　Twenty　minutes　late。　They　were　always　late。　He　tried　to　get　fortable　in　his　seat。　Reluctantly　he　picked　up　the　copy　of　The　Washington　Post　he　had　purchased　at　a　news　counter　and　scanned　the　headlines。　Same　old　crap…it's　absolutely　uncanny　how　politicians　can　be　relied　upon　to　do　or　say　something　every　single　day　that　even　Charlie　Manson　would　think　bizarre。
　He　sneaked　a　glance　at　Moravia。　She　was　reading　a　paperback。
　He　squinted。　My　God…it's　a　Jackie　Collins　novel！　How　about　that？　The　ice　queen　deep　into　sex　among　the　rich　and　stupid。　Maybe　her　hormones　are　okay　after　all。
　Toad　leaned　back　and　closed　his　eyes。　He　needed　to　work　out　some　kind　of　approach；　a　line。　First　he　needed　to　know　more　about　her。　This　was　going　to　take　some　time；　but　she　looked　like　she'd　be　worth　it　and　Jake　Grafton　had　implied　that　they　were　going　to　be　spending　plenty　of　time　together。　That　Grafton；　he　didn't　just　fall　off　a　turnip　truck。　He　knew　the　score。
　Toad　opened　one　eye　and　aimed　it　her　way。　Yep；　a　nice　tight　unit。　Reading　a　romance　novel。　Who'd　have　guessed？
　When　the　plane　was　safely　airborne　he　reclined　his　seat　and　drifted　off　to　sleep　wearing　a　satisfied　little　smile。
　Jake　Grafton　found　a　place　to　park　the　Chevy　right　on　Main　Street　a　block　from　the　courthouse　intersection；　which　sported　the　only　stoplights　in　town。　Actually　there　were　three　empty　parking　places　all　in　a　row　and　he　took　one　on　the　end。　Romney；　West　Virginia；　was　not　a　bustling　place　on　a　cold；　breezy　March　morning。
　The　interior　of　the　courthouse　was　massive　and　calm。　The　ceilings　were　at　least　fifteen　high。　Even