scoonts.theminotaur-第70节

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　〃Amazing；　huh？〃　Jake　said。
　〃Yes；　sir。〃
　〃I've　been　flying　for　twenty…five　years；〃　Grafton　said；　〃and　reading　everything　I　could　about　planes　for　ten　more。　And　all　this　time　I　never　even　dreamed。。。〃
　〃I　know　what　you　mean。　It's　like　science　and　technology　have　gone　crazy　in　some　kind　of　souped…up　hothouse。　The　technology　is　breeding；　and　we　don't　recognize　the　offspring。〃
　〃And　it's　not　just　one　technical　field。　It's　airframes　and　engines；　posites　and　glues；　fabricating　techniques；　puter…Assisted　Design；　avionics　and　puters　and　lasers　and　radars。　It's　everything！　In　five　years　everything　I　learned　in　a　lifetime　will　be　obsolete。〃
　Or　less　than　five　years；　Jake　told　himself　glumly　as　the　bat…winged　B…2　drifted　quietly　overhead。　Maybe　everything　I　know　is　obsolete　now！
　
　When　Toad　Tarkington　thought　about　it　afterwards；　he　remembered　the　sun。　It　was　one　of　those　little　details　you　notice　at　the　time　and　don't　think　about；　yet　remember　later。
　He　had　seen　the　sun　many　times　before　in　the　cockpit；　bright　and　warm　and　bathing　everything　in　a　brilliant；　clean　light；　its　beams　darting　and　dancing　across　the　cockpit　as　the　plane　turned　and　climbed　and　dived。　A　clean　light；　bright；　oh　so　bright；　warming　bodies　encased　in　Nomex　and　sweating　inside　helmets　and　gloves　and　flying　boots。　This　was　part　of　flying；　and　after　a　while　you　didn't　notice　it　anymore。　Yet　for　a　few　seconds　that　morning　he　did　notice　it。　The　memory　of　it　stayed　with　him；　and　somehow；　looking　back；　it　seemed　important。
　He　was　deep　into　the　mysteries　of　the　radar　and　puter　and　how　they　talked　to　each　other；　acutely　aware　of　how　little　time　aloft　he　had。　The　radar's　picture　was　automatically　recorded　on　videotape；　but　he　muttered　into　the　1CS…the　audio　track　of　the　tape…like　a　voodoo　priest　so　he　would　know　later　just　what　the　gain　and　brightness　had　been　for　each　particular　presentation。　He　worked　fast。　These　flights　were　grotesquely　short。
　Rita　concentrated　on　flying　the　plane；　on　keeping　it　precisely　on　speed　and　on　altitude；　exactly　where　the　test　profile　required。　She　was　extraordinarily　good　at　this　type　of　flying。　Toad　had　discovered。　She　had　the　knack。　It　required　skill；　patience　and　self…discipline　as　one　concentrated　on　the　task　at　hand　to　the　exclusion　of　everything　else；　all　qualities　Rita　Moravia　possessed　in　abundance。　The　airspeed　needle　stayed　glued　on　the　proper　number　and　all　the　other　needles　did　precisely　what　they　were　supposed　to；　almost　as　if　they　were　slaves　to　Rita's　iron　will。
　Toad　also　kept　track　of　their　position　over　the　earth；　and　every　now　and　then　wasted　three　seconds　on　a　glance　over　at　the　chase　plane。　Still　there；　precisely　where　it　should　be。　Smoke　Judy　was　a　no…nonsense。　Sierra　Hotel　pilot　who　had　almost　nothing　to　say　on　the　radio；　he　knew　how　busy　Rita　and　Toad　were。
　Periodically　Toad　reminded　Rita　of　which　task　was　next　on　the　list。　He　could　just　see　the　top　of　her　helmet；　partially　masked　by　the　top　of　her　ejection　seat；　if　he　looked　straight　ahead。　He　could　also　see　the　upside…down　reflection　of　her　lap　and　arms　in　the　canopy；　weirdly　distorted　by　the　curvature。　Her　hand　on　the　stick…he　could　see　that　because　in　this　plane　the　control　stick　was　where　it　should　be；　between　the　pilot's　legs。
　And　the　sun。　He　saw　the　brilliance　of　the　sun's　gaze　as　the　sublime　light　played　across　the　kneeboard　on　his　right　thigh　and　back　and　forth　across　the　instruments　on　the　panel　before　hiro。
　〃How's　control　response？〃　he　asked。
　〃Better。〃　In　a　moment　she　added；　〃Still　not　right；　though。〃
　He　would　never　have　known　it　from　the　sensations　reaching　him　through　the　plane。　The　ride　was　smooth　as　glass。　〃I　told　Orville　and　Wilbur　they　were　wasting　their　time。　They　wouldn't　listen。〃
　〃What's　next？〃
　She　already　knew；　of　course。　She　had　prepared　the　flight　profile。　To　humor　her；　Toad　consulted　his　copy。　〃Eight…G　chandelles。〃
　〃Okay。〃
　He　felt　the　surge　as　the　power　increased。　Rita　wasted　no　time。　He　saw　her　glance　at　Smoke　Judy；　assuring　herself　the　F…14　was　clear；　then　the　left　wing　sagged　gently　as　the　nose　began　to　rise　and　the　G　increased。　The　G　came　on　in　a　steadily　rising　grunt　as　the　horizon　tilted　crazily。　Rita　was　flying　the　G　line　on　the　holographic　HUD。　Toad　temporarily　abandoned　his　radar　research　and　strained　every　muscle　in　the　classic　M…l　maneuver；　trying　to　retain　blood　in　his　head　and　upper　body　as　he　forced　air　in　and　out　past　his　lips。　The　inflatable　pads　in　his　G　suit　had　bee　giant　sausages；　squeezing　his　legs　to　keep　the　blood　from　pooling　there。
　This　maneuver　was　designed　to　allow　Rita　to　explore　the　limits　of　G　and　maneuverability　at　ever…changing　airspeeds。　Toad　felt　the　nibble　of　the　stall　buffet；　and　for　the　first　time　felt　the　wings　rock　sloppily；　almost　as　if　Rita　were　fighting　to　control　their　position。
　〃I'm　having　some　troub…〃　she　said；　but　before　she　could　plete　the　thought　the　plane　departed。
　The　down　wing　quit　flying　and　the　upper　wing　flopped　them　over　inverted。　The　plane　began　to　gyrate　wildly。　Positive　Gs　mashed　them　for　half　a　second；　then　negative　Gs　threw　them　up　against　their　harness　straps；　but　since　the　airplane　was　inverted；　it　was　upward　toward　the　earth。　The　airplane　spun　like　a　lopsided　Frisbee；　bucking　up　and　down　madly　as　the　Gs　slammed　them；　positive；　negative；　positive；　negative。　The　ride　was　so　violent　Toad　couldn't　read　the　MFDs　on　the　panel　before　him。
　〃Inverted　spin；〃　he　gasped　over　the　ICS。
　〃The　controls…it　won't…〃　Rita　sounded　exasperated。
　〃You're　in　an　inverted　spin；〃　Toad　heard　a　hard；　calm　male　voice　say。　Smoke　Judy　on　the　radio。
　〃I'm…the　controls…〃
　〃Twenty…nine　thousand。。。　twenty…eight。。。〃　By　a　supreme　effort　of　will　Toad　made　himself　concentrate　on　the　altimeter　and　read　the　spinning　needles。
　〃Spin　assist；〃　he　reminded　her。　This　switch　would　allow　the　horizontal　stabilator　its　full　travel；　not　restricted　by　its　high…speed　limited　throw。　The　danger　was　if　the　pilot　pulled　too　hard　at　high　speed　without　the　mechanical　limit；　the　tail　might　be　ripped　away。　Right　now　Rita　needed　all　the　help　she　could　get　to　pull　the　nose　down。
　〃It's　on。〃
　〃Twenty…five　thousand。〃　He　was　having　trouble　staying　conscious。　The　ride　was　vicious；　violent　beyond　description。　His　vision　closed　in　until　he　was　looking　through　a　pipe。　He　knew　the　signs。　He　was　passing　out。　〃Twenty…two；〃　he　croaked。
　Miraculously　the　violent　pitching　action　of　the　nose　decreased　and　he　felt　as　if　he　were　being　thrown　sideways。　As　the　G　decreased；　his　vision　came　back。　Rita　had　them　out　of　the　spin　and　diving。　She　had　the　power　back；　about　90　percent　or　so。　She　rolled　the　plane　upright　and　the　G　came　on　steadily　as　she　pulled　to　get　them　out　of　their　rocketing　dive。　〃Okay；〃　she　whispered；　〃okay；　baby；　e　to　Mama。〃
　The　wings　started　rocking　again　as　the　G　increased；　and　Toad　opened　his　mouth　to　shout　a　warning。　Too　late。　The　right　wing　slammed　down　and　the　plane　rolled　inverted　again。　〃Spin；〃　was　all　he　could　get　out。
　He　fought　the　slamming　up　and　down。　〃Seventeen　thousand。。。〃
　〃Rita；　you'd　better　eject。〃　The　hard；　fast　voice　of　Smoke　Judy…
　〃I've　got　it；〃　Rita　shouted　on　the　radio。　〃Stay　with　me。〃　That　was　for　Toad。　She　had　the　nose　ing　steadily　down　now；　that　yawning　sensation　again　as　she　fed　in　full　rudder。
　〃Fifteen　grand；〃　Toad　advised。
　They　were　running　out　of　sky。
　〃It's　the　controls！　I've…〃
　〃Thirteen！〃
　She　was　out　of　the　spin　now；　upright；　but　the　nose　was　still　way　low；　seventy　degrees　below　the　horizon。　Power　at　idle；　she　deployed　the　speed　brakes　and　began　to　cautiously　lift　the　nose。
　〃Eleven　thousand。〃
　〃e　on；　baby。〃
　〃Ten。〃
　The　ground　was　horribly　close。　Their　speed　was　rapidly　building；　even　with　the　boards　out　and　engines　at　idle。　The　ground　elevation　here　was　at　least　four　thousand　feet　above　sea　level；　so　they　were　within　six　thousand　feet　of　the　ground；　now　five；　still　forty　degrees　nose　down。　They　would　make　it　Rita　added　another　pound　of　back　pressure　to　the　stick。
　The　left　wing　snapped　down。
　Toad　pulled　the　ejection　handle。
　The　windblast　hit　him　like　the　fist　of　God。　He　was　tumbling；　then　he　wasn't；　now　hurling　toward　the　earth…an　earth　so　close　he　could　plainly　see　every　rock　and　bush…and　cursing　himself　for　the　fool　that　he　was　for　waiting　so　long。　Lazily；　slowly；　as　if　time　didn't　matter；　the　seat　kicked　him　loose　with　a　thump。　The　ground　was　right　there；　racing　up　at　him。　He　closed　his　eyes。　He　was　going　to　die　now。　So　this　is　how　it　feels。。。　A　tremendous　shock　snapped　through　him；　almost　ripping　his　boots　off。　The　opening　shock　of　the　parachute　canopy。　The　ground　was　right　there！　He　swung　for　another　few　seconds；　then　smashed　into　a　thicket　of　brush。　Too　late　he　remembered　he　should　have　protected　his　head。　He　came　to　rest　in　the　middle　of　an　opaque　dust　cloud。
　He　was　conscious　through　it　all。　He　wiggled　his　limbs　experimentally。　Still　in　one　piece；　thank　the　Lord！
　Rita！　Where　was　Rita？
　He　was　standing　before　the　dust　had　cleared；　ripping　his　helmet　off　and　trying　to　see。　He　tore　at　his　Koch　fittings。　There！　Rid　of　the　chute。
　Striding　out　of　the　brush；　almost　falling；　looking。
　Another　dust　cloud。　Several　hundred　yards　away　and　down　the　hill　slightly。　Something　had　impacted　there。　Rita？　But　th