“You must have enabled a descent program. Look at the drift corrections on the icon. We’re being guided in, and the engines aren’t even on.”
“The engines we understand, you mean. Better tell Hendricks.”
Dillon called in, told Hendricks what was happening.
“Brown says to just ride her in. Your job is done. He says the next flight will be a simple extension of this one, but you’ll be going to full power.”
“Whatever that means. Let me talk to him,” said Eric.
“I can’t. He left here a minute ago.”
“I want some explanations from someone,” said Dillon. “I’ve been flying this thing on faith alone, and I won’t do it again.”
“Understood,” said Hendricks, and broke off contact.
“Can’t blame you,” said Eric. “It was an exceptional risk just taking my word on what to do.”
“So why did I do it?” said Dillon, and raised his hands. “Look at that. I’m just sitting here, and Sparrow is right on a glide path to the base. Did you know that would happen?”
“No, I didn’t. I just knew which switches to throw, and when.”
“That guy Brown, he’s one of the people who brought Sparrow over to us. I met him the day I was oriented. Didn’t say much, just pointed at things, and it seemed enough. Did he brief you?”
“I think so, I just don’t know how. The one time I met him we talked about other things. Stuff comes to me in my sleep. Could be hypnotic suggestion, but I don’t remember being hypnotized, and I have no idea why I was picked to receive the information. You’re not the only one operating on faith around here. I’ve never flown anything in my life.”
Dillon looked at the holodisplay. “Not even a vibration. We’re down to four hundred miles an hour at forty thousand feet without a care in the world. God.”
“Would you really give up the next flight if nobody answers your questions?”
Dillon chuckled. “Not a chance, but don’t tell anybody that. Twenty thousand feet, and right on approach path, and nobody has told me if I’ll have to bring her in on hover. I should be concerned, but I’m not. Brown said to ride her in, and that’s what I’m doing, and why the hell haven’t those green lights gone off?”
“I think they’re all tied to the propulsion system in Sparrow’s belly. I think it has something to do with dark energy.”
“What?”
“Dark energy. It’s seventy percent of the total mass-energy in the universe. I personally think it’s vacuum-state-energy, particles popping in and out of existence. Our benefactors have found a way to tap into it.”
“That sounds pretty advanced for the Russians,” said Dillon.
“Yeah, that’s been bothering me, too. I’m trying not to think we’re dealing with little green men in disguise.”
“Ten thousand feet. There’s the Grand Canyon. The terminator is chasing us. Sparrow to Flight Com, we’re coming in on auto. Advise, please.”
“Right on glide path, and just ride her in,” said Hendricks. “Maybe we won’t need pilots anymore.”
“That’ll be the day,” said Dillon. He hadn’t relaxed during the entire descent, body rigid, hands hovering near the controls.
And then, quite suddenly, one-by-one, the green lights went out on the panels by Eric’s knees. There was a whine, and a smooth vibration in the cockpit. Eric’s buttocks pressed into his seat, and his stomach fluttered. The holodisplay flickered and disappeared, and they were flying blind.
“Oh shit,” said Dillon, and grabbed his knees with his hands.
Eric felt Sparrow slide sideways, hover, then descend. There was a thump, a settling in his stomach, and the whine went away.
“Touchdown,” said Hendricks, “and looking good. Congratulations.”
Two techs were on Sparrow’s stubby wings before Dillon popped the canopy open. Red light flooded them. Far above, the roof of the bay was sliding closed. A red-tinged cloud floated beyond it. The techs saluted smartly, and began fumbling with chest harnesses. Dillon pressed his helmet off, and grinned at Eric. “We’ve got to do this again real soon.”
“I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” said Eric, and flinched at a pinched ear as his helmet came off.
Hendricks was waiting for them on the floor, and he looked pleased. A small crowd applauded as Dillon and Eric stepped down off a wing and shook hands with their flight com. Eric immediately spotted Sergeant Alan Nutt in the crowd. Nutt smiled at him and gave a mock salute with two fingers. He held his usual clipboard and two thickly filled manila envelopes under one arm.
“Everything was seamless,” said Hendricks.
“Pretty much, once we knew how to use that icon for the return trip. You can thank Doctor Price for that,” said Dillon.
“Another revelation, Doctor?” said Hendricks.
“I don’t know what else to call it.”
“Relax. I asked Brown about it, and he said subliminal methods had been used by his people to feed you information in a secure way at critical points in our testing. But he would not tell me why you were favored over others to receive it. At this point I don’t even care. We’re scheduling a full-power test one week from today.”
“Yes!” said Dillon.
“And for once, I don’t have a clue as to what will happen,” said Eric.
Hendricks paused, perhaps for dramatic effect, then, “If I believe what Mister Brown told me today, we will be taking our first step towards the stars.”
Dillon wiggled an eyebrow at Eric. “We’d better pack a lunch.”
Everyone laughed at that.
Eric was still checking when Sergeant Nutt stepped up to him and handed him the thick envelopes he’d been carrying. “You might need more than lunch, sir. Here’s your operations manual for the final test. There are copies for both you and Captain Dillon. You should be ready to recommend a flight profile in three days.”
“Thank you, Sergeant,” said Eric. He opened the envelope, took out two slender volumes bound in hard covers and handed one to Dillon. Neither man bothered to open their manual. “Right now I’d really like a hot shower and some breakfast. I’m starving,” said Eric.
And euphoric, he thought.
A sudden thought, and Eric drew close to Alan Nutt, whispered, “Anything new on Leon?”
“He’s critical, sir. They’re working on him right now. I’ll let you know when there’s something new.”
Later, after he’d been bathed and fed, Eric retired to a conference room to do a quick overview of the new manual he’d received.
What he read there both shocked and thrilled him. Apparently the effect was the same for his pilot, because halfway through Eric’s read there was a pounding on the door and then Dillon was there, gibbering with excitement.
“Do you believe what it says here? I’ve been testing high-performance aircraft for a decade, and I never even dreamed of this!”
“Me neither. I think we better be conservative about our flight profile.”
“Over my dead body we will.”
“I was afraid you’d say that,” said Eric. “No matter. I think a higher intelligence has already decided our profile for us.”
“I think maybe you’re right,” said Dillon, “but we’ll file one anyway.”
And they did.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
DECEPTIONS
There were times when being military liaison was worse than a boil on Alan’s ass, and listening to Davis rant and rave had been one of them. But in his years of diplomatic service, Alan Nutt had learned to know when it was safe to simply tune out a diatribe and go to a higher, peaceful state while his antagonist vented a spleen, so to speak.
It had taken Davis several minutes to vent his anger; all the while believing Alan was actually listening. Whatever, it had worked. A few minutes later, Davis was teachable again. The threat to the base was real, and required a substantial force to counter it. A foreign power that had gifted a priceless technology would provide that force at no cost, if only to protect their investment. What was there to be debated and discussed? The orders had come from the oval office. Davis could obey them, or relinquish command. End of discussion.