“Just remember what I said about LaForgue,” Uri cautioned, walking back to the Hummer.
“I will. Thanks again, Uri,” James called after him.
“If you’ll come with me, sir,” the technician beckoned. “Let’s see if we can get a jumpsuit that matches your stature.”
James was tall and very broad shouldered.
A few minutes later, James emerged from a change room feeling very polished in his close-fitting jumpsuit and carrying a helmet.
The technician placed James’s civilian clothes into the Blackbird’s side compartment, closed and fastened the flap, then wheeled a small step ladder to the side of the aircraft. Twin canopies, one behind the other, were tilted open at forty-five degrees.
The technician helped James climb into the narrow rear compartment usually reserved for the control officer. He secured James’s four-way harness and explained how to pop it open after they landed at their destination. Securing his helmet and demonstrating how to clip the oxygen mask into place, the technician then handed James a small brown paper bag.
“You might need this,” the technician suggested, with a knowing look.
James glanced at the air-sick bag. He didn’t realise they still made these things.
The technician gave a thumbs up to Kovak that James was all set, descended the steps and rolled them out the way.
“Does the harness have to be this tight?” James asked Kovak over the top of their partition.
“The tighter, the better,” he answered. “And don’t release it until after we’ve landed. You can unclip the oxygen mask once we’re at altitude, but I’ll let you know, so don’t worry. Once in flight, we communicate through the helmet mounted headsets.”
“How do I turn it on?”
“Just tap the helmet anywhere on the side, then again to turn it off,” Kovak said.
A tow tractor reversed carefully under the pointed nose of the intimidating aircraft and the technician attached the bar to the front wheel assembly. A few seconds later, the Blackbird was pulled from Lockheed’s Hangar-18.
Over his left shoulder, James watched the AG-330 start-cart roll under the portside wing. The tow tractor, now unhitched, was driving back towards the hangar.
The jet engines fired up to a thunderous sound that would have deafened James if it hadn’t been for his helmet. He understood now why ground crews all wore those tight soundproofed skull caps. The SR-71 Blackbird reverberated with eager anticipation to get moving, much like an energetic dog being shown its leash.
It rolled forward to Groom Lake’s main runway.
The hydraulically controlled canopies lowered and locked into place, closing out most of the ear-splitting clamour of the engines. James sensed a subtle burst of air as the cabin pressure increased slightly. In front, over a panel of instruments, he could just see the top of Kovak’s head as he tapped his helmet. James did the same.
Kovak’s voice came through the headphones, “Mr. Clark, please secure your oxygen mask. We’re about to take off.”
“Do I still need this paper bag?” James asked.
“You’re either going to get sick or pass out.”
James wasn’t sure if Kovak was being serious. He secured his mask and wiggled it into a more comfortable position. His heart was racing with excitement. Even though he had been to the washroom only five minutes before, James felt that he needed to go again.
The entire aircraft shuddered violently as engine thrust was increased to its maximum. With a sudden burst of acceleration, the Blackbird shot down the runway, pressing James back with such force that he could hardly move.
The Blackbird was airborne in seven seconds.
Looking to his right, James watched more with amazement than shock as the horizon suddenly tilted counter-clockwise at a sixty-degree angle. Accelerating continuously, the Blackbird skyrocketed almost vertically into the blue. James felt himself being pressed even further into his seat.
Ten seconds later, he passed out.
Chapter Thirty-Six
“Welcome back to the land of the living,” Kovak said through James’s headphones. “Most people pass out a lot sooner than you did.”
James’s mind cleared a bit more and he noticed that the horizon was now level. “How high are we?”
“We’ve just leveled out at fifty-eight thousand feet. Hold on, I’m going to boost our speed.”
Before Kovak had even finished what he was saying, James was thrown back once more as the afterburners kicked in.
“We’ll be in New York in about an hour and a half,” Kovak said.
“What?” James was stunned. “So quickly?”
“This baby has a top speed approaching Mach-4. It remains the fastest aircraft ever built.”
Even at this extreme altitude, James was astounded at how fast the ground was rushing past eleven miles below.
Clark has left Groom Lake. Destination unknown
The Controller deleted the message
Uri came through the Level-2 door and greeted Emily and Nathan. “James is on his way. I wonder if he survived the take-off?”
“What do you mean?” Emily asked, amused.
Uri explained that he had arranged for James to be taken back to New York on an SR-71 Blackbird.
“Sorry, don’t know what that is,” she said.
Nathan raised his eyes from the monitor. As usual, he was in a world of his own trying to make head or tail of the elusive formulas. No matter how far removed he appeared from the world around him, Nathan always seemed to have an ear open.
“SR-whatever Blackbird? Never heard of one of those either,” he said, removing his glasses and placing them beside his keyboard.
“SR-71 Blackbird. The fastest aircraft ever built.”
All three turned around surprised. Obadiah and Gene Johnson, the Level-2 technician, were sitting in the easy chairs enjoying a soda.
“Yup, fastest ever,” Obadiah repeated.
“Yes, it is,” Uri said, looking at Obadiah and raising his eyebrows.
“How would you know that?” Nathan asked.
Obadiah became very self-conscious and lowered his gaze a little. “Er, one of my hobbies is building model aeroplanes. You learn a lot.”
“Wow, Obadiah,” Emily said, beaming at him. She couldn’t imagine such large hands assembling tiny pieces of plastic. “You’re just full of surprises. I thought you spent your private time hunting down paedophiles.”
A few years ago, Obadiah’s niece was the victim of a local prowler. Obadiah had taken matters into his own hands; cutting off the offender’s sex organ and making him swallow it. Everyone at SkyTech knew the story and admired him for his somewhat unconventional retaliation. The law would have given the dirt bag a slap on the wrist and told him not to do it again. Obadiah on the other hand, ensured that he would never do it again.
“I’d be surprised if he survived the take-off as well,” Obadiah said, with one of his rare bouts of laughter. “He would have either brought up his breakfast or passed out.”
“My bet is that he passed out,” Uri said.
“Oh, poor James,” Emily said, raising a hand to her mouth.
“You don’t have to worry,” Uri said. “He would have been unconscious for less than a minute as a result of the acceleration and steep climb. He’ll be fine.”
“He had no idea?” Nathan asked.
“None,” Uri said. “You should have seen his face. He was completely speechless when I introduced him to his ride home. He’ll be boasting about this to his friends for years.”
“He’ll be home in about an hour and a half,” Obadiah said. “The Blackbird flies at almost four times the speed of sound.”
“Not sure I know exactly how fast that is,” Emily said.