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happens； if it happens； it won't matter whose fault it is or how good you are in a cockpit。 I know。 I've seen it too many times。〃
〃Life is risky；〃 Rita replied； 〃Life isn't some bland puree with all the caffeine and cholesterol removed。 It doesn't just go on for ever and ever without end。 Amen。 For every living thing there is a beginning； a middle； and an end。 And me is chance。 Chance is the means whereby God rules the universe。〃
The flier thought a moment； then continued； choosing her words carefully。 〃I have the courage to try to live with my fate； whatever it may be。〃
〃Do you have enough？〃 Amy asked； dead serious。
〃I don't know；〃 said Rita。 She smiled at the youngster。 〃I hope so。 I haven't needed much courage so far。 I'm healthy； reasonably intelligent； and I've been lucky。 But still； I gather courage where I find it and save it for the storms to e。〃
20
Through the years Jake Grafton had bee a connoisseur of air force bases。 Visiting one was like driving through Newport or Beverly Hills。 With manicured lawns； trimmed trees； well…kept substantial buildings and nifty painted signs； air force bases made him fed like a poor farm boy visiting the estate of a rich uncle。 In contrast； the money tile admirals wheedled from a parsimonious Congress went into ships and airplanes。 The dedication of a new cinder…block enlisted quarters at some cramped navy base in the industrial district of a major port city was such a rare event that it would draw a half dozen admirals and maybe the CNO。
The Tonopah facility； however； didn't look like any air force base Jake had ever seen。 It looked like some shacky； jerry…built temporary facility the navy had stuck out in the middle of nowhere during World War n and had only now decided to improve。 Perhaps this base was just too new。 Bulldozers and carthmovere sat scattered around on large； open wounds of raw earth。 No trees or grass yet； though two trenchers appeared to be excavating for a sprinkler system。 When the wind blew； great clouds of dust embedded with tumbleweeds swept across the flat； featureless desert and through the stark frames of buildings under construction； and the wind blew most of the time。
Security was as tight as Jake had ever seen it in the military。 Air policemen in natty uniforms with white dickeys at their throats manned the gates and patrolled chain link fences topped with barbed wire while they fought to keep their spiffy blue berets in place against the wind。 The fences were woven with metal strips to form opaque barriers。 Signs every few yards forbade stopping or photography。 You needed a pass to enter any area； and prominent signs vibrating in the wind advised you of that fact
The place reeked with that peculiar aroma of government intrigue： Important； stupendous things are happening here。 You don't want to know！ We who do also know that you couldn't handle it。 Trust us。 In other words； the overall effect was precisely the same gray ambience of don't…bother…us superiority that oozes from large post offices and the mausoleums that house the departments of motor vehicles； social services； and similar enterprises throughout the land。
Even the sergeant at the desk of the Visiting Officers' Quarters wanted to see Jake Grafton's security documents。 He made cryptic notations in a battered green logbook and passed them back without ment as he frowned at Helmut Fritsche's facial hair。 After all； didn't Lenin wear a beard？
As he escorted Jake and Fritsche down the hall toward their rooms； Toad Tarkington said； 〃This place is really dead； Captain。 The nearest whorehouse is fifty miles…away。〃
Fritsche groaned。
〃Tonopah makes China Lake look like Paris after dark；〃 Tarkington told the physicist with relish。 〃This is as far as you can get away from civilization without starting out the other side。〃 He lowered his voice。 〃There's spies everywhere。 The place is crawling with 'em。 Witch your mouth。 Remember； loose lips sink…〃
〃Loose lips sink lieutenants；〃 Jake Grafton rumbled。
〃Yessir； them too；〃 Toad chirped。
That evening Jake inspected the Consolidated Technologies airplane。 Under the bright lights of the cavernous hangar； it was being tended by a small army of engineers and technicians who were busy checking every system； every wire； every screw and bolt and rivet。 Adele DeCrescentis watched a man fill in a checklist。 Each item was carefully marked when pleted。 Rita Moravia walked back and forth around the aircraft； looking； probing； asking more questions of the pany test pilot who stood beside her。 Toad Tarkington was in the aft cockpit； going over the radar and puter one more time as a nearby yellow cart supplied electrical power and cooling air。
At 9 P。M。 they gathered in a large ready room on the second deck of the hangar's office pod。 The room was devoid of furnishings except for one portable blackboard and thirty or so folding chairs。
The meeting lasted until midnight。 Every aspect of tomorrow's flight was gone over in detail。 Consolidated's people approved the test profile and agreed on the performance envelope。 Rita would have to stay within on the first flight。 The route of the flight was laid out on a large map which was posted on one wall and briefed by mander Les Richards。 He pointed out the places where ground cameras would be posted。 Real…time telemetry from the airplane would be supervised by mander Dalton Harris。 Smoke Judy would fly the chase plane； an F…14 borrowed from NAS Miramar； and a carefully briefed RIO would film the Consolidated prototype in flight from the F…14's backseat
After the meeting broke up； Jake Grafton spent another thirty minutes with his staff； then went down to the hangar deck。 Only a dozen or so technicians were still on the job。
The overhead floods made little gleaming pinpoints where they reflected on the black surface of the Consolidated stealth plane。 As he walked； the tiny pinpoints moved along the plex curved surfaces in an unpredictable way。 With his face only a foot or so from the skin of the plane； he studied it。 The dark material seemed to have an infinite depth； or perhaps it was only his imagination。
The outer skin； he knew； was made of a posite that was virtually transparent to radar waves。 Underneath； carrying the stresses； was a honeyb radar…absorbent structure made of synthetic material formed into small hexagonal chambers。 The honeyb was bonded to inner skins of graphite and other strong posites。 He touched the airplane's skin。 Smooth and cool。
From this angle the curves and smooth junctions of the skin became one。 No wonder the Consolidated people were so proud of their creation。
But how would it hold up aboard a ship？ Could it stand the rough handling and the air and the poundings of cat shots and traps？ Thousands of them？ Will it be easy to fly； within the capabilities of the average pilot…not just a superbly trained； gifted professional like Rita Moravia； but the average bright lad from Moline or Miami with only three hundred hours of flight time who would have to learn to use this Art Deco sculpture as a weapon？
Five nights。 He needed a lot of answers in just a short time。 Rita and Toad would have to get them。
He walked away musing about Rita's lack of test experience and wondering if he had made a mistake giving her this ride。
Tomorrow。 He would know then。
But the following day problems with the telemetry equipment kept the prototype firmly on the ground。 The engineers were still laboring in the sun on a concrete mat where the temperature exceeded a hundred and ten when Jake glanced at his watch and ordered the plane towed back into the hangar。 The Soviet satellite would soon be overhead。 The hangar's interior was shady and cool。 And since the air force owned it； it was air…conditioned。
The next morning； Wednesday； the F…14 took off with a cracking roar that seemed to split the desert apart。 Smoke Judy pulled the power off when he was safely airborne and made a dirty turn to the downwind leg。 He came drifting down toward the earth paralleling the runway and stabilized at one hundred feet just as Rita began to roll。
The prototype was noticeably quieter； so quiet that its noise wag barely audible above the howl of the Tomcats engines as Smoke used his throttles to hang the heavy fighter just above the runway as the stealth bird accelerated。 When Rita lifted off and retracted her gear； Smoke added power to stay with her and the sound of the stealth plane was entirely muffled。
〃Damn quiet；〃 George Wilson remarked。 〃About like a Booing 767； maybe less。〃 The low noise level was a direct by…product of burying the exhaust nozzles and tailpipes in the fuselage； shielded from the underside； to reduce the plane's infrared signature。
In the cockpit Rita concentrated on maintaining the selected test profile and getting the feel of the controls。 She had spent hours sitting in the cockpit the last few weeks memorizing the position of every switch； knob； and gauge； learning which buttons she needed to press to place information where she wanted it on the MFDs； and so even now； minutes into her first flight in the plane； it was familiar。
In the backseat Toad was busy with the system。 He checked the inertial； it seemed okay。 With ring laser gyros； it had not a single moving part and was more accurate than any conventional inertial using electromechanical gyros。 It would need to be。 To keep the stealth plane hidden； it would be necessary to fly with the radar off most of the time； and the ring laser inertial would have to keep a very accurate running tally of the plane's position。
The puter was also functioning perfectly。 He had encoded the waypoint and checkpoint information onto optical…electronic…optronic…cards on the ground and loaded them into the puter after engine start。 The two…million…dollar pocket calculator； he called it。 It hummed right along； belching readouts of airspeed； groundspeed； altitude； wind direction and velocity； true course； magnetic course； drift angle； time to go to checkpoint； etc。； over fifteen readouts simultaneously。 He had this information on the right…hand MFD； roughly the location on the panel where it would be in an A…6E。
Some of the displays were not yet hooked up since development work was not yet plete。 Consequently the three…dimensional information presentations on the pilot's holographic Heads…Up Display could not be tested。
The phased…array radar in the nose received Toad's attention next。 The antenna was flat and fixed； it did not rotate or move。 Actually it was made up of several hundred miniature antennas； individually varying their pulse frequencies to steer or focus the main beam。 A conventional radar dish would have acted as a reflector to send the enemy's radar signals back to him。 Toad tuned the radar to optimize the presentation and dictated his switch and dial positions on the ICS； which； like the radar presentation； was being recorded on tape for later study。
The next major pieces of gear he turned on and integrated into the system were； for him； the most interesting。 Two new infrared search and tracking systems that were able to distinguish major targets as far away as a hundred miles； depending upon the aircraft's altitude and the relative heat value of the target。 One could be used for searching for enemy fighters while the other was used to navigate or locate a target on the ground。 The range of these sensors was a tenfold improvement over the relatively primitive IR gear in the A…6E。 Since a stealthy attack plane would fly most of its mission with its radar off； these new gizmos would literally be the eyes of the bombardier…navigator。
Toad took a second to glance to his left。 Smoke had the F…14 about a hundred feet away in perfect formation。 The backseater's helmet was hidden behind his camera； which was pointed this way。
That videotape would show every twitch of the flight control surfaces。 Toad turned back to the task at hand。
He felt the plane awing as Rita experimented with the controls and advanced and retarded each throttle independently。 She was talking on the radio； telling Smoke what she was doing； reading the engine performance data to the people on the ground so it could be coordinated with the telemetry data； giving her impressions of the feel of the plane。
〃See