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hem in a gesture of defeat。 〃I don't think they can do it。 It'll cost too much。 Their best bet is to merely make a lot more of what they have； but that will cost them the farm and the family cow。 All of which is why Gorbachev has bee a good guy。〃
〃You think？〃
〃Look at it this way。 The Soviet economy is on its ass。 They don't even have money over there。 The ruble is non…convertible。 They've been spending at least an eighth of their gross national product on defense。 The barrel is empty。 They hate Star Wars because the research and development costs to match or counter it are prohibitive。 Now es stealth： the B…2； the F…l 17。 Those are threats against land…based targets。 If that wasn't enough bad news； now the U。S。 Navy wants a stealth bird to threaten their fleet…the A…12。 I'll bet if we were on the Politburo and heard what countering this low…observable technology was going to cost； we'd think about converting to Christianity。〃
〃They must be looking hard for a way to do it on the cheap；〃 Jake suggested。
〃Wouldn't surprise me。〃 Dalton Harris replied。
〃Why not build their own stealth birds？〃
〃They will someday。 Right now they can't afford it。 When they do； though； we'll have to upgrade all our radars。〃
〃Hell； we can't afford it either；〃 Jake Grafton said。 Franks was walking this way。 When he was close enough Jake said to him； 〃Let's sit down and talk about the flight…test schedule。〃
〃Oh； Mom；〃 Lucy Franklin sobbed into the telephone； 〃I didn't want to call you； but I've got no place else to turn。〃
〃You did the right thing； Lucy。 Has he hit you？〃
〃Oh； no。 It's nothing like that。 It's。。。〃 She bit her lip。 It was all so bizarre。 Her neighbor； Melanie； hadn't believed her and neither had the minister。 Her mother was her last hope。 〃I think Terry is a spy。〃
Silence on the other end of the phone。 Finally： 〃Tell me about it。〃
Lucy explained。 She went over the events of last Friday night in great detail。
〃Well；〃 her mother said。 〃Something is going on。 He's probably cheating on you。〃
〃Mother！ Please！ This is more serious； I'm scared stiff。 I can't eat。 I can't talk to him。 I'm afraid of what he'll do to the kids。 Mother； I'm petrified。 I'm at the end of my rope。〃 She began to sob。
〃Do you want me to e out there？〃
〃Oh； I don't know。 What good would that do？〃
〃He wouldn't hurt you while I was there。 We could confront him。〃 More silence。 〃Let me talk to your father and call you back。〃
〃Not Daddy！〃 Lucy wailed。 〃He won't understand。〃
〃I know you and he don't see eye to eye。 He didn't think Terry was the right man for you。〃
〃He's never let me forget it。〃
〃Do you want to e home？ Bring the kids？〃 If she went home her father would be there。 She was genuinely afraid of her father。 He just had never been able to cope with a daughter。。。
〃Can you e out here？〃
〃I'll call your dad at work； then call you back。 Okay？〃
〃Mom； I really need you to help me through this one。〃 They said their goodbyes and hung up。 Lucy drank more coffee and chewed her fingernails。 Mom would be such a help。 Terry wouldn't do anything with her here。 Oh； please； Daddy； let her e。
〃Looks like gibberish； of course。 What it is is two puter access code words and a file name。〃 The man from the lab laid an eight…by…ten color photo of the inside of the cigarette pack on Camacho's desk。 〃No prints on the pack except for Mrs。 Jackson's。〃
Camacho studied the print The words and numbers were：
Interest Golden。TS 849329。002EB
〃And the photos？〃
〃They didn't e out so good。 She used a miserable camera with a fixed focus。〃 The lab man handed Camacho the stack。 He looked at each one and laid them across the desk。 He stood and beat over to study them； moving slowly。
〃This one。〃 He selected a photo of a man in a trilby hat wearing a fall…length coat。 Only the bottom half of his face was visible； and it was fuzzy。 Yet obviously a white man。 The other men in the pictures were Mack。 〃Blow up the face and see what you can do with puter enhancement。〃
The lab man checked the back of the photo for the number of the negative。 He excused himself and left。 Camacho sat in his chair and stared at the face。 Thick cheeks； rounded chin； the suggestion of a fleshy nose。 He had seen that face before。 He picked up the phone： 〃Dreyfus； bring in the mug book of Soviet embassy personnel。〃
It took twenty minutes； but Camacho and Dreyfus finally agreed。 The man in Mrs。 Jackson's photo was Vasily Pochinkov； assistant agricultural officer at the Soviet embassy。
〃These black dudes。〃 Camacho tapped the stack。 〃Take these over to the D。C。 police and go through the mug books。 They'll be in there。〃
〃Your father agreed that under the circumstances I should e。〃
〃Thank you； Mother。 Thank you；〃 Lucy said。
〃You should thank your father too。 He was going to use this money for a down payment on a new car。〃
〃Yes；〃 Lucy said； trying to hold back the tears。
〃He loves you too； Lucy。 He always wanted what was best for you。〃
〃I know。 Mom。〃
〃I'll be there day after tomorrow at one o'clock。 Dulles。〃 She gave Lucy the flight number。 〃Can you meet me？〃
〃The kids and I'll be there。 Thanks so much； Mom。 I really need you。〃
〃I know； baby。 I know。 Just don't tell Terry I'm ing。〃
From his window seat Jake stared at the mountains and forests through the gaps in the cloud cover as the Boeing 727 descended into the twilight。 The mountain ridges ran off to the northeast between valleys now dark and murky； enlivened only by the twinkling jewels of towns and villages。
Over the Shenandoah Valley the 727 pilot broke his descent。 Jake felt the gentle adjustment in nose attitude and the power addition。 Now the left wing rose and the pilot eased to a new heading； still in a descent。 This long glide back to earth was the best part； Jake decided； the best part of the flight after hours in the stratosphere。 He closed his eyes and became one with the plane as the pilot leveled the wings and made another power adjustment。 He could feel the controls； the stick and throttles in his hands； the…
〃Is your seat belt fastened； sir？〃
〃Oh yes。〃 Jake moved the newspaper on his lap so the stewardess could visually check。 She smiled automatically and moved on。
Your return from the sky should be gentle and slow so that all the bittersweet flavor can be savored。 The airspeed and altitude that held you so high above the earth should be surrendered gradually； not…Arggh！ What's the use？ Why long for things that cannot be again？ Stop it； Grafton！ Stop wishing and longing and tasting the things of the past。
Power back； almost to idle。 He heard the high…pitched whine of the flap motor and checked the wing。 The pilot was milking them out as he turned yet again； no doubt following instructions from Air Traffic Control。 The earth was only three or four thousand feet below and headlights of cars and trucks were visible。 Farmhouses； towns； highways； dark woodlots； all slipped past beneath as the pilot in the cockpit of the airliner milked the flaps out further and eased left in a long sweeping turn that would probably line him up for the approach into Dulles。 Jake waited。 He was rewarded with a trunk and hum as the gear doors opened and the main mounts were lowered into the slipstream。
You miss it too much； he told himself。 Too much。
Callie was waiting when Jake stepped out of the shuttle bus onto the concourse。 He saw her and grinned； and walked right into the fat lady ahead of him。 She had stopped dead and bent over to scoop two children into her arms。 The children piped their wele to their grandmother as the line…of people behind came to a jerky halt。 Callie watched with a wide grin on her face。
〃Hi； Mom；〃 Jake said as he put his arm over her shoulder。
The grin got even wider and her eyes sparkled。 〃Hi； Dad。〃
〃We're not really going to do that； are we？ Call each other Mom and Dad？〃
〃Maybe。 Every now and then。〃
〃Miss me？〃
〃A teeny tiny little bit。 I'm getting used to having you around。〃
10
The plane to Washington was full。 By some quirk。 Toad was assigned a window seat and Rita was given the middle seat beside him。 She asked about an aisle or window seat and was told by the harried agent that there were no more seats。 Rita looked up and down the counter at the lines of people waiting to check baggage and get seat assignments； then turned back to the clerk and grinned。 〃That'll be fine； thank you。〃
Moravia had her hair pulled back and rolled tightly。 Her white boater hat sat squarely； primly on the top of her head。 She had used some makeup this morning。 Toad noticed； and a glob of it showed on her right cheek where she had failed to feather it in。 It was the only imperfection he could see。 Her navy…blue blouse and skirt showed off a healthy figure in a modest yet sexy way。 Toad took a deep breath and trailed along as they left the ticket counter。 He had to stride to get up beside her。 〃Let's get something to read；〃 he suggested。 〃We have time。〃 She was agreeable。 At the newsstand Toad looked longingly at the Playboy and Penthouse magazines with their covers hidden under a piece of black plastic to keep from titillating schoolboys or heating up old ladies。 Maybe he should buy one and read it on the plane。 That would get Moravia all twitchy。 He glanced over to where she stood looking at newsmagazines and slicks for upscale women。 No。 He devoted his attention to the rack of paperbacks and finally selected one by Kurt Vonnegut。 Slaughterhouse…Five was Toad's favorite book。 Vonnegut knew life was insanity； just as Toad did； deep down； in the place where he lived。 Today he chose one called Galapagos。
When the boarding announcement came； the seats near the gate emptied as everyone surged toward the stewardess guarding the entrance to the jetway。 Toad took his time and held back。 Two people sandwiched themselves between him and Moravia as they ambled toward the door； a guy in a business suit with shoulder…length hair and a woman in her fifties with bad knees。 Yet somehow when Toad turned in his boarding pass he ended up right behind Moravia going down the jetway。 There was another line waiting to get through the airplane's door。 He queued behind her。 The people behind him pressed forward。 His nose was almost in her hair。 She was wearing a delicate； heavenly scent。 He inhaled it clear to his toenails。
They inched down the crowded aisle toward their seats。 The air was stifling； too may people。 Toad felt the walls closing in on him。 There was a woman already in the aisle seat in their row； and when Toad finished stuffing his attache case and bat into the overhead bin； he found Moravia was already in her seat。 The woman on the aisle ignored him。 Toad muttered his excuses and edged in front of their knees。 Rita looked up from the operation of removing her hat and for the first time since he had known her gave him a warm smile。 〃Sorry。〃
〃No problem；〃 Toad said as he settled in beside her； acutely aware of her physical presence。 Too aware。 He adjusted the air nozzle in the overhead and turned hers on too。 〃Is this okay？〃
〃Thank you。 That helps a lot。〃 She smiled again； beautiful white teeth framed by lips that。。。 Toad looked at his novel a while； couldn't get interested； then scanned the airline magazine from the seat pocket。 Her skirt had inched up； revealing her knees。 He obliquely examined her hands。 Nails painted and trimmed； fingers long and slim。 God！ He caught her glancing at him and they both grinned nervously and looked away。 He turned the overhead air vent full on and glued his face to the window。
They were somewhere over Montana and Toad was deep into Vonnegut's vision of humans evolving into seals in the millennia to e when Rita spoke again。 〃Toad；〃 she said softly。
〃Yeah；〃 She was looking straight into his eyes。
〃Why can't you and I be friends？〃
He was thunderstruck。 〃Uh。。。 aren't we？〃
〃You know what I mean。〃
Toad Tarkington glanced around desperately。 No one was apparently paying any attention。 Those eyes were looking straight at him。 Just what does she mean？ There are friends and there are friends。 He had been floating along footloose and free and…whap！…suddenly here he was； smack in the middle of one of those delicious ambiguities that women work so hard to snare men in。 For the first