Ray C. Noll

“ From the dusty desert stretches the sprawling, efficient base had taken shape while United Nuclear had yet to assemble an atomjet. The schedules came out perfectly, and the first single-manned fusion-propulsed rocketplane thundered off the corporation proving grounds and glided into Base Mojave as planned. Designed for patrol of the mesosphere, the ships were to have gained for the West control of near-Earth space, besides affording superior observation posts for Eastern developments and activity of a space nature. ”

“ I was convinced myself it would steer the ship out of any situation involving the approach of one or two penetrating meteors."
General Morrison turned to the spatialogist. "What about the incidence of penetrating meteors in the mesosphere?"
"In average fall," the man replied, "fairly low."
"And the probability of encountering three at once along a given atomjet trajectory?"
"From what limited experiments we have made, the odds would be astronomical, I'd say."
The general snorted. "Too great to account for three ships, anyway, is that it?" He soothed his forehead with his big hand. ”

“ Grant's thought was that she felt she had to dramatize understanding something about Air Force rocketry.
After a short silence Bridget asked, "What is the compensating factor for the reactor's being placed off the center of stability?"
Grant blinked. "What's that again?"
She swung a pointed finger at the ship. "Naturally," she interrupted, "the nose will float downward in the canal, hoisting the hot tubes out of the liquid at the end of the glide-ins. But you've got pilot, power plant, and wings frontside. How can you affect glide-ins at surface air density without nosing in?" ”

“ But halfway down, she halted and turned.
"It's much easier asking me out dancing, Grant," she smiled impishly, and clacked across the hangar floor toward the jeep.
By the next morning arrangements for a small staff and office space had swiftly gone through. Working through lunch, Bridget had the office set up and the staff briefed and researching when Grant returned from dining with the general.
"You're just in time," she said, looking up from an already cluttered desk. "I'm ready now to scan through any G-2 you have on atomjet operation in your Mojave files." ”

“ His exercise target was a southwestern New Mexico town, and he swung back from the Gulf area and coaxed the responsive craft until the planet gleamed brightly in the crosshairs of the navigational sight. ”

“ A pause. "Ashley, Mojave."
"How's my picture now?"
"Your vertical is off, and you flutter. Major, the first three hours have been without direction from the base. For the next two, we're going to ask you to perform certain patrol tasks, perhaps repeat them. The process may not prove especially enjoyable. Your close coöperation will be appreciated."
"If this is all stuff we went through in training—" Grant sputtered.
"Some of it may be," Bridget's voice. "The fact it's distasteful may make it the more significant. Are you ready to coöperate?" ”

“ By the time she finished, Grant's dessert was beginning to taste like vitaminized space rations.
"Impossible," he said, dabbing at sherbet spots on his trousers. "The general would react faster than to a red alert."
"Your concern may be the general's reactions, but mine's not," Bridget snapped. "I just want an objective engineering answer, yes or no."
Grant threw up his hands. "O.K., O.K. With a live pilot, yes, you can get a TV transmitter in an atomjet with some doing. ”

“ Grant frowned. "Yes, usually empty, but still a weight factor. Then there's the automatic wing stabilizer that adjusts to the air speed and density and acts to pull up the nose—"
"O.K.," she interrupted. "Now, would you lift me through the canopy, please? I'd like to sit inside a minute."
"That's out," he said. "Only pilots and technicians."
"All right, if you won't, I'll get up myself." She marched over to the hangar wall and pulled over boarding steps, which were braced on three pivotal tires.
"Bridget, Security says pilots and mechanics." ”

“ Generally speaking, human beings are fine buck-passers—but there's one circumstance under which they refuse to pass on responsibility. If the other fellow says "Your method won't solve the problem!"—then they get mad! ”

“ I've heard it's better."
"And please replace your galvanometric and respiratory clamps. We're getting no register here."
"They're too uncomfortable."
"Major, let me remind you this flight is costing the taxpayers plenty, hasn't General Morrison's clearance, and may have to be flown again unless you coöperate fully." Grant smiled at the lens. He could visualize her curls whipping around.
"Now, please coöperate and replace the clamps, and try to simulate patrol conditions. I will call you from time to time for further instructions. Ashley at Mojave—out." ”

“ In one outfit, the losses stopped when the fighters flew up front."
"Not only sharp, but good-looking, too," Grant admired, and began chewing on the other half of his French bread. Then he ceased masticating and mouthed anxiously, "You've told the general this?"
Bridget clapped her hands. "With exquisite pleasure."
"And he—?"
"... Got excited, phoned for engineering to remove navigational sights and suggested I join the staff at the base."
Grant coughed on the bread and hurriedly reached for his water. "He wants you around?" ”

“ Grant protested.
"Everyone is hypnotic to a degree. Some are a great deal more than others, and these are the ones that are apparent. Impose the right conditions and a quasi-hypnotic condition could be affected on most anyone."
"But why hasn't this happened elsewhere?"
Bridget took a quick bite of fish before he could stop her. "It has. First documentation I found was in the South Pacific air war in the '40s. One-man escorting fighter planes in several cases slipped out of bomber formations they were following at night and splashed. ”