scoonts.theminotaur-第58部分

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r　perhaps　it　was　only　his　imagination。
　The　outer　skin；　he　knew；　was　made　of　a　posite　that　was　virtually　transparent　to　radar　waves。　Underneath；　carrying　the　stresses；　was　a　honeyb　radar…absorbent　structure　made　of　synthetic　material　formed　into　small　hexagonal　chambers。　The　honeyb　was　bonded　to　inner　skins　of　graphite　and　other　strong　posites。　He　touched　the　airplane's　skin。　Smooth　and　cool。
　From　this　angle　the　curves　and　smooth　junctions　of　the　skin　became　one。　No　wonder　the　Consolidated　people　were　so　proud　of　their　creation。
　But　how　would　it　hold　up　aboard　a　ship？　Could　it　stand　the　rough　handling　and　the　air　and　the　poundings　of　cat　shots　and　traps？　Thousands　of　them？　Will　it　be　easy　to　fly；　within　the　capabilities　of　the　average　pilot…not　just　a　superbly　trained；　gifted　professional　like　Rita　Moravia；　but　the　average　bright　lad　from　Moline　or　Miami　with　only　three　hundred　hours　of　flight　time　who　would　have　to　learn　to　use　this　Art　Deco　sculpture　as　a　weapon？
　Five　nights。　He　needed　a　lot　of　answers　in　just　a　short　time。　Rita　and　Toad　would　have　to　get　them。
　He　walked　away　musing　about　Rita's　lack　of　test　experience　and　wondering　if　he　had　made　a　mistake　giving　her　this　ride。
　Tomorrow。　He　would　know　then。
　
　But　the　following　day　problems　with　the　telemetry　equipment　kept　the　prototype　firmly　on　the　ground。　The　engineers　were　still　laboring　in　the　sun　on　a　concrete　mat　where　the　temperature　exceeded　a　hundred　and　ten　when　Jake　glanced　at　his　watch　and　ordered　the　plane　towed　back　into　the　hangar。　The　Soviet　satellite　would　soon　be　overhead。　The　hangar's　interior　was　shady　and　cool。　And　since　the　air　force　owned　it；　it　was　air…conditioned。
　The　next　morning；　Wednesday；　the　F…14　took　off　with　a　cracking　roar　that　seemed　to　split　the　desert　apart。　Smoke　Judy　pulled　the　power　off　when　he　was　safely　airborne　and　made　a　dirty　turn　to　the　downwind　leg。　He　came　drifting　down　toward　the　earth　paralleling　the　runway　and　stabilized　at　one　hundred　feet　just　as　Rita　began　to　roll。
　The　prototype　was　noticeably　quieter；　so　quiet　that　its　noise　wag　barely　audible　above　the　howl　of　the　Tomcats　engines　as　Smoke　used　his　throttles　to　hang　the　heavy　fighter　just　above　the　runway　as　the　stealth　bird　accelerated。　When　Rita　lifted　off　and　retracted　her　gear；　Smoke　added　power　to　stay　with　her　and　the　sound　of　the　stealth　plane　was　entirely　muffled。
　〃Damn　quiet；〃　George　Wilson　remarked。　〃About　like　a　Booing　767；　maybe　less。〃　The　low　noise　level　was　a　direct　by…product　of　burying　the　exhaust　nozzles　and　tailpipes　in　the　fuselage；　shielded　from　the　underside；　to　reduce　the　plane's　infrared　signature。
　In　the　cockpit　Rita　concentrated　on　maintaining　the　selected　test　profile　and　getting　the　feel　of　the　controls。　She　had　spent　hours　sitting　in　the　cockpit　the　last　few　weeks　memorizing　the　position　of　every　switch；　knob；　and　gauge；　learning　which　buttons　she　needed　to　press　to　place　information　where　she　wanted　it　on　the　MFDs；　and　so　even　now；　minutes　into　her　first　flight　in　the　plane；　it　was　familiar。
　In　the　backseat　Toad　was　busy　with　the　system。　He　checked　the　inertial；　it　seemed　okay。　With　ring　laser　gyros；　it　had　not　a　single　moving　part　and　was　more　accurate　than　any　conventional　inertial　using　electromechanical　gyros。　It　would　need　to　be。　To　keep　the　stealth　plane　hidden；　it　would　be　necessary　to　fly　with　the　radar　off　most　of　the　time；　and　the　ring　laser　inertial　would　have　to　keep　a　very　accurate　running　tally　of　the　plane's　position。
　The　puter　was　also　functioning　perfectly。　He　had　encoded　the　waypoint　and　checkpoint　information　onto　optical…electronic…optronic…cards　on　the　ground　and　loaded　them　into　the　puter　after　engine　start。　The　two…million…dollar　pocket　calculator；　he　called　it。　It　hummed　right　along；　belching　readouts　of　airspeed；　groundspeed；　altitude；　wind　direction　and　velocity；　true　course；　magnetic　course；　drift　angle；　time　to　go　to　checkpoint；　etc。；　over　fifteen　readouts　simultaneously。　He　had　this　information　on　the　right…hand　MFD；　roughly　the　location　on　the　panel　where　it　would　be　in　an　A…6E。
　Some　of　the　displays　were　not　yet　hooked　up　since　development　work　was　not　yet　plete。　Consequently　the　three…dimensional　information　presentations　on　the　pilot's　holographic　Heads…Up　Display　could　not　be　tested。
　The　phased…array　radar　in　the　nose　received　Toad's　attention　next。　The　antenna　was　flat　and　fixed；　it　did　not　rotate　or　move。　Actually　it　was　made　up　of　several　hundred　miniature　antennas；　individually　varying　their　pulse　frequencies　to　steer　or　focus　the　main　beam。　A　conventional　radar　dish　would　have　acted　as　a　reflector　to　send　the　enemy's　radar　signals　back　to　him。　Toad　tuned　the　radar　to　optimize　the　presentation　and　dictated　his　switch　and　dial　positions　on　the　ICS；　which；　like　the　radar　presentation；　was　being　recorded　on　tape　for　later　study。
　The　next　major　pieces　of　gear　he　turned　on　and　integrated　into　the　system　were；　for　him；　the　most　interesting。　Two　new　infrared　search　and　tracking　systems　that　were　able　to　distinguish　major　targets　as　far　away　as　a　hundred　miles；　depending　upon　the　aircraft's　altitude　and　the　relative　heat　value　of　the　target。　One　could　be　used　for　searching　for　enemy　fighters　while　the　other　was　used　to　navigate　or　locate　a　target　on　the　ground。　The　range　of　these　sensors　was　a　tenfold　improvement　over　the　relatively　primitive　IR　gear　in　the　A…6E。　Since　a　stealthy　attack　plane　would　fly　most　of　its　mission　with　its　radar　off；　these　new　gizmos　would　literally　be　the　eyes　of　the　bombardier…navigator。
　Toad　took　a　second　to　glance　to　his　left。　Smoke　had　the　F…14　about　a　hundred　feet　away　in　perfect　formation。　The　backseater's　helmet　was　hidden　behind　his　camera；　which　was　pointed　this　way。
　That　videotape　would　show　every　twitch　of　the　flight　control　surfaces。　Toad　turned　back　to　the　task　at　hand。
　He　felt　the　plane　awing　as　Rita　experimented　with　the　controls　and　advanced　and　retarded　each　throttle　independently。　She　was　talking　on　the　radio；　telling　Smoke　what　she　was　doing；　reading　the　engine　performance　data　to　the　people　on　the　ground　so　it　could　be　coordinated　with　the　telemetry　data；　giving　her　impressions　of　the　feel　of　the　plane。
　〃Seems　responsive　and　sensitive　in　all　axes；〃　she　said。　〃Engine　response　is　good；　automatic　systems　functioning　as　advertised；　dot　a　hundred　feet　a　minute　more　climb　than　I　expected。　Fuel　flow　fifty　pounds　per　hour　high。　Oil　pressure　in　the　green；　exhaust　gas　temps　are　a　hundred　high。　I　like　it。　A　nice　plane。〃
　She　leveled　the　plane　at　Plight　Level　240　at　。72　Mach；　420　knots　true。　Toad　checked　the　range　and　depression　angles　of　the　radar　and　IR　sensors；　and　ran　checks　on　the　inertial　and　puter。
　Thirty　minutes　later；　after　hitting　three　navigation　checkpoints；　Rita　dropped　the　nose　two　degrees　and　began　a　power…on　descent　back　toward　Tonopah。　She　leveled　at　5；000　feet　at　550　knots　and　raced　toward　the　field。　Smoke　Judy　was　a　hundred　feet　away　on　the　right　side；　immobile　in　relation　to　the　stealth　bird。
　In　the　backseat　Toad　ran　an　attack。　His　target　was　the　hangar　that　had　housed　the　plane。　The　system　gave　Rita　steering　and　time　and　distance　to　go　to　a　laser…guided　bomb　release。　Everything　worked　as　advertised。　No　weapon　was　released　because　the　plane　carried　none；　but　a　tone　sounded　on　the　radio　and　was　captured　on　all　the　tapes；　and　it　ceased　abruptly　at　the　weapons…release　point；　interrupted　by　the　electronic　pulse　to　the　empty　bomb　rack　cunningly　faired　into　the　airplane's　belly。
　After　three　attacks　at　different　altitudes；　Rita　slowed　the　plane　with　speed　brakes　and　dropped　the　gear　and　flaps。　She　entered　the　landing　pattern。
　Two　fleet　Landing　Signal　Officers　that　Jake　had　borrowed　from　Miramar…they　had　flown　the　F…14　to　Tonopah…stood　on　the　end　of　the　runway　in　a　portable　radio…equipped　trailer　that　a　truck　had　delivered。　They　had　spent　the　last　three　days　painting　the　outline　of　a　carrier　deck　on　the　air　force's　main　runway　and　rigging　a　portable　Optical　Landing　System…OLS…which　the　truck　had　also　delivered。　Now　they　watched　Rita　make　simulated　carrier　approaches　flying　the　ball；　the　〃meatball；〃　on　the　OLS。　Jake　Grafton　stood　beside　them。
　〃Paddles　has　you；〃　the　senior　man　told　Rita　as　she　passed　the　ninety…degree　position。　One　other　LSO　wrote　while　the　first　watched　the　approach　with　the　radiotelephone　transceiver　held　to　his　ear　and　dictated　his　ments。
　〃On　speed；　little　lined　up　left；　little　too　much　power。。。〃　The　plane　swept　past　and　its　wheels　whacked　into　the　runway；　right　on　the　line　that　marked　the　target　touchdown　point。　The　nose　wheel　smacked　down　and　the　engines　roared　and　Rita　flew　it　off　the　runway。　The　LSO　shouted　to　his　writer；　〃The　pass。〃
　Jake　Grafton　stared　at　the　plane　in　the　pattern。　It　just　looks　weird；　he　told　himself。　The　lifting　fuselage　and　invisible　intakes　and　the　canards　and　the　black　color；　it　didn't　look　like　a　real　airplane。　Then　he　knew。　It　looked　like　a　model。　It　looked　like　one　of　those　plastic　planes　he　had　glued　together　and　held　at　arm's　length　and　marveled　at。
　〃You're　carrying　too　much　power　in　the　groove；〃　the　LSO　told　Rita　after　the　second　pass。
　〃I'm　just　floating　down　with　the　power　way　back；〃　she　replied。　〃And　we're　hearing　a　little　rumble。　Maybe　incipient　pressor　stall。　I'll　use　the　boards　next　time　around。〃
　The　Consolidated　engineers　had　thought　the　speed　brakes　would　be　unnecessary　in　the　pattern。　Yet　with　the　intakes　on　top　of　the　plane；　behind　the　cockpit；　maybe　the　air　reaching　them　was　too　turbulent　when　the　plane　was　all　cocked　up　in　the　landing　configuration。　Jake　Grafton　began　to　chew　on　his　lower　lip。　The　air　force　doesn't　land　planes　like　this；　he　reminded　himself。　They　wouldn't　have　tried　these　maneuvers　when　they　flew　the　plane。
　With　the　boards　out　the　plane　approached　at　a　slightly　higher　nose　attitude；　its　engine　noise　louder。　The　speed　brakes　allowed…required…Rita　to　e　in　with　a　higher　power　setting。　〃This　feels　better；〃　she　mented。　〃But　I'm　still　hearing　that　rumble。　Little　more　pronounced　now；　if　anything。〃
　〃Looks　better；〃　the　junior　LSO　told　Jake。　〃I　think　the　boards　give　her　more　control。〃
　〃Six…hundred…feet…a…minute　sink　rate；〃　Rita　reported。　Once　again　the　main　mounts　smacked　in　with　puffs　of　fried　rubber　from　each　tire