Hypersonic Thunder: A Novel of the Jet Age (49 page)

Rodriquez looked blank for a moment, then asked, “For cooling?”

“Yes, but even more important, drag reduction. Your needle nose is a physical air spike; this is a virtual air spike. We’ve done studies for years on saucer-shaped vehicles—it does the hearts of the UFO people good—and finally come down to this. As small as this extension is, it is almost a ‘virtual saucer’ and its effectiveness is boosted by high velocity air being pumped out at explosive speeds in incredibly small quantities all over the lip. You might think that this would be ‘reverse thrust’ and cost you but it does not. If you wanted to look for a primitive example, it is the super Russian torpedo, the VA-111
Shkval
, that hits high speed by releasing bubbles. Except in this we are ejecting superheated air from the scramjet in ultra-microscopic jets. The effect is almost miraculous. It reduces your cooling problem by a major factor, and cuts your drag by perhaps 50 percent.”

“You’ve tested this?”

“Just as you’ve tested your ideas—on the computer and in the wind tunnel. We could never get enough money from the government to fly a vehicle. Besides, it is too radical an idea for the establishment to accept without twenty-five years of testing.”

Rodriquez sat down, weak at the knees. His heart was pounding and he worried, as he did so often lately, whether he was going to have a stroke. His father had died of one at seventy-seven, his age. He was suddenly flooded with remorse. What in hell had he gotten into? Had he given away his fundamental secrets for nothing? Did Honey have a crack-brained idea, or was it the solution of a lifetime?

Honey reached for the telephone saying, “Shall I call 911? Are you all right?”

Rodriquez shook his head.

“Get me some water, please. Give me a few minutes. I’ll be OK.” He sipped the water slowly, gazing at Honey’s drawing, his mind racing, a thousand ideas flowing through it. As he stared at the drawing he saw how the cruiser would have to be revised. The first flight date
would slip, but if Honey was talking serious money, that would not matter.

“I won’t ask you how much money is involved now, but tell me, would you offer it whether or not I adopted your virtual air spike, your platypus nose?”

Honey said, “The offer is for half a billion dollars, and it depends solely on your adopting our idea. Frankly, I think your concept might work. But I know it will work if you mate it with our virtual air spike.”

Steve O’Malley had been quiet longer than he had been in years, repressing every bad Crocodile Dundee gag he could think of. Now he couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Bob, first you’ve got to decide what it does to the flying characteristics of the Cruiser. V. R. and I have been flying the simulator for two years now, and think we can handle your design. If this is going to alter the handling significantly, I think we have to look at it. But if it won’t alter them too much, then I’ll tell you how I’m voting, and I can tell from the look on V. R.’s face how he’s voting. I’ll bet Dennis will go along with us. Bob, you don’t have to decide now, but if you tell me the flight characteristics won’t change, I say we go ahead with the Australians. You are a hell of a lot smarter than I am, and so is Mr. Honey, I’m sure, but I’ve got a gut feel about this. It is the way to go.”

Honey said, “Look, there’s no hurry. If we are right about this, we are ten years ahead of everybody else. If we are wrong about it, delaying will give us a few more days not to worry about going broke. Why don’t you take this and go back to California and do your own computations? Then let us know. We’ll be in the States for another month, looking into another Super Hornet buy.”

He handed Rodriquez a set of computer discs.

“Everything we know is on them. I’m giving them to you on faith. And I’m not worried a bit about it. Don’t lose them, though.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

THE PASSING PARADE
: Sectarian violence continues undiminished in Iraq; veteran general, politician Ariel Sharon felled by massive stroke; Jacques Chirac announces that France will use nuclear weapons in response to any terrorist attack on French soil; Iran announces plans to restart work on its nuclear energy program, denies warlike intentions; Iraqi government formed with Shiite and Kurd coalition; Sunnis form minority opposition party; evidence of mass fraud in Iraq reconstruction fund distribution; Samuel Alito confirmed as Supreme Court Justice; satellite images confirm extensive underground Chinese nuclear facilities; insurgents bomb Askariya Shrine in Samarra; vicious fight between Shiites and Sunnis, killing more than 1,000; Muslim world erupts in furor after publication of cartoons of Muhammad in a Danish newspaper; Canada has first Conservative Prime Minister in years, Stephen Harper; Slobodan Milosevic suffers heart attack and dies in cell; super-lobbyist Jack Abramoff sentenced to almost six years in prison on fraud charges; widespread fallout among congressmen and staffers expected to follow; Tom DeLay announces his resignation; only 66 percent of U.S. chemical weapons stockpiles will be destroyed by 2007, British police prevent al Qaeda terrorist attack using poison gas; in massive test, North Korea launches series of missiles, including two that have range to reach United States; terrorist plot to blow up airliners between United Kingdom and United States foiled by Scotland Yard; in surprising reversal of form, Marine veteran Congressman John Murtha accuses Marines of killing Iraqis in cold blood; bombs kill Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, a particularly violent terrorist; General George Casey estimates need for a year to 18 months more training for Iraqi security forces before they can take over; Saddam Hussein found guilty of crimes against humanity, sentenced to
death; Iraq Study Group report released, recommends reaching out diplomatically to Syria and Iran, states that situation is “grave and deteriorating”; Saddam Hussein hanged; American death toll reaches 3,000.

December 31, 2006
Palos Verdes, California

I
’m glad you insisted that we not sell this place. If we had, the money wouldn’t have helped much and we managed to scrape by. Now we’ve got the old Vance Shannon library for our party, just like the old days. And the Australians seem to be having a good time. I thought I’d never get Honey away from Vance’s model collection.”

Steve O’Malley and V. R. Shannon were, as usual, sitting apart, going over the prospects for the early 2007 mission of the Hypersonic Cruiser, the immense dangers of the first flight weighing on them equally. Shannon was still scheduled to fly, but both were ready. As always, their conversation centered on the mission, rehashing subjects they had discussed a dozen times before, always trying to find a new slant.

“Sometimes I wish we had not been so damn audacious. It is enough to fly this thing, without doing an operational test with a missile. The Air Force spends months flying its prototypes before it ever launches a missile.”

“I know. I flip back and forth on this. Remember Delmar Benjamin?”

V. R. looked blank.

“Benjamin built the exact replica of the Gee Bee R-2 racer, the one Doolittle set a speed record in. The airplane had a reputation as a pilotkiller, terribly dangerous to fly. On the first flight, Delmar flew it in knife-edge flight, and then flew it low-level, inverted. Everyone said he was crazy, but Delmar had confidence in what he had built. I have confidence in this, and I know you do, too, or you wouldn’t be flying it.”

He hesitated a moment and said, “And remember the Boeing 777; they didn’t build a prototype, they went right to a production aircraft, and did it all depending on computers.”

V. R. winced, saying, “And remember the A380 and the mess they are in now because of computers! Overweight, behind in production, lots of wiring problems.”

O’Malley said, “Rodriquez really called that one, didn’t he! But we’ve just used one computer system, and by chance or by the gift of God, it’s exactly compatible with the one the Australians are using.”

V. R. pulled out the well-worn sheets of the mission profile and they huddled together, going over it item by item as they had done already, dozens of times before.

Dennis Jenkins peered in the room at them, aware of their intense concentration, not wishing to intrude. This flight was life or death for Shannon and for RoboPlanes as well as for the Australian group that joined them and added so much to their engineering and their finances.

Beside him, John Honey spoke quietly, “Dennis, you know, I’d been warned that those two men were mentally unstable, that their obsession with the terrorist threat made them unbalanced. But in all the time I’ve known them, they’ve hardly said a word about it. What happened?”

Dennis took him by the arm as they walked toward the kitchen over the now-worn Mexican tiles that had supported so many parties like this.

“They believe that they are creating the perfect weapon to control terrorism. This is just intuitive on my part, but I think their actions are taking the place of their words. I’ve never seen two men work as hard as they have in the past year, getting the cruiser ready for flight.”

It was true. When Honey and Rodriquez had combined their teams to modify the Hypersonic Cruiser and incorporating the Australian concept of a virtual air spike, Shannon and O’Malley had thrown themselves into the program with an intensity that reminded Jenkins of them in the old days, when O’Malley was feverishly getting new business for their company and V. R. was all wrapped up in the F-117 stealth fighter program.

They went into the kitchen where Steve’s caterer had done what he thought as an Australian theme, with Foster’s beer, Penfold wines, and an array of barbecued shrimp, beef, and ribs. Dennis winced, for Honey often talked longingly of the finer Australian wines, and he knew that the caterer should have stuck to his Mexican food specialties. No matter. The events of the last year and the coming year were so heavy on everyone’s minds that not much would be eaten and still less drunk.

Only two women were there, Sally O’Malley ineffectually puttering around the kitchen, the caterer following her and rearranging what she had done, and Mae Rodriquez, drawn and obviously very worried about her husband. Their son, Rod, was on the east coast, working out some further leasing deals, and she wished he were there, for “Bob the father,” as O’Malley called him, could draw strength from him.

Jenkins and Honey wandered out onto the veranda. V. R. had installed an open-pit fireplace and thrown some branches of mesquite on the brightly burning wood, giving off a taste of the desert.

Bob Rodriquez, a jacket thrown around his shoulders, was talking with Barry Martin. They were unlikely friends, for both were silent men of strong convictions, but had somehow found themselves on the same wavelength on virtually everything, from religion to politics to the heady state of the aviation industry prospects to, always and eternally, the prospects for the Hypersonic Cruiser’s success.

Rodriquez gestured to two empty chairs, and Jenkins and Honey sat down. Sally O’Malley came out with a tray of drinks and put it on the small folding table.

The four men were quiet for a while, Jenkins assessing Rodriquez closely. He was no longer young and the strain of converting the Hypersonic Cruiser to accommodate the Australian’s suggestions had further diminished his energy. He tried to cheer him up.

“Well, chaps, every time we think the air and space industry is going down for a count, we have a year like 2006, where everything was looking up. Incredible stuff happening, all across the country, all around the world. I just wish I were thirty years younger, starting all over.”

He realized it was the wrong thing to say. Rodriquez was already worried about his age and his health. He tried to recover. “Bob, did you ever think the Air Force would have a full wing of UAVs? They are going to set one up at Creech Air Force Base next year, using the MQ-1 Predator and MQ-9 Reapers.”

Rodriquez just nodded, but Honey and Martin caught on immediately and jumped into the conversation.

“I see they are changing the terminology from UAV to UAS—unmanned aerial systems. I’m surprised the feminists have let them get away with ‘unmanned.’ But I wish O’Malley would come out, I’d like to hear what he has to say about the F-22s getting ready to deploy to Japan.”

Martin added, “I managed to get to the Experimental Aircraft Association fly-in at Oshkosh this year. They had the F-22 there, and the HondaJet, too. It is always an impressive sight to see those acres of airplanes.”

Martin’s comment seemed to stir Rodriquez, who sat up and said, “The EAA is the best thing that’s happened to aviation. Without it there probably would have been no Burt Rutan as we know him, nor any Cirrus or Lancair or HondaJet or a lot of other things. Do you guys know Paul Poberezny?”

Jenkins did but Martin and Honey said no.

“You’ve got to meet him. He’s older now, like me, but he’s still impressive, and even now you see the Messianic aspects of his personality that allowed him to create and shape the EAA. There’ll never be another like him.”

He paused for a moment and went on. “It is a great time. Look what’s happening with Air Traffic Control! It’s moving into the twenty-first century at last, and beginning to use satellite technology for traffic control and approaches. It’s about time. If they had waited much longer, the whole system would have ground to a halt.”

Jenkins said, “Bob, what do you think are the three or four biggest advances in the last decade?”

Rodriquez smiled.

“In a few months—maybe less—we are going to make the biggest advance, and don’t you forget it. We are going to give the government the capability to reach out virtually anywhere in the world and strike any size target, big or small. But besides us? Stealth has been around a long time and so have precision munitions. I think the biggest advances are in materials and in management. Look how Boeing is building the 787! They are outsourcing most of it. Mitsubishi, who built the Zero during World War II, is building the wings; the rudder is being built in China, along with the fairings for the wing. Boeing’s even modified three 747s, made ‘pregnant guppies’ of them, so they can haul fuselage sections from Japan. Boeing is the integrating assembler, and it’s causing a lot of grief, naturally, with the older engineers who think their ‘tribal knowledge’ is being given away. The unions object, too, it’s inevitable. This much outsourcing was unthinkable even ten years ago.”