tc.patriotgames-第30部分

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ter　now。　He　checked　his　watch：　less　than　three　hours　to　touchdown　at　Dulles。　You　can　put　up　with　anything　for　three　hours；　can't　you？
　　　　Like　you　have　a　choice。　A　light　caught　his　eye。　How　did　I　miss　that　before？　On　the　bulkhead　a　few　feet　from　his　head　was　a　digital　speed　readout。　It　now　read　1024；　the　last　number　changing　upward　rapidly。
　　　　Damn！　I'm　going　a　thousand　miles　per　hour。　What　would　Robby　say　about　this？　I　wonder　how　Robby's　doing　。　。　。He　found　himself　mesmerized　by　the　number。　Soon　it　was　over　1300。　The　rate　of　change　dropped　off　nearly　to　zero；　and　the　display　stopped　at　1351。　One　thousand　three　hundred　fifty…one　miles　per　hour。　He　did　the　putation　in　his　head：　nearly　two　thousand　feet　per　second；　almost　as　fast　as　a　bullet；　about　twenty　miles　per　minute。　Damn。　He　looked　out　the　window　again。　But　why　is　it　still　noisy？　If　we're　going　supersonic；　how　e　the　sound　isn't　all　behind　us？　I'll　ask　Robby。　He'll　know。
　　　　The　puffy；　white；　fair…weather　clouds　were　miles　below　and　sliding　by　at　a　perceptible　rate　nevertheless。　The　sun　glinted　off　the　waves；　and　they　stood　out　like　shiny　blue　furrows。　One　of　the　things　that　annoyed　Jack　about　himself　was　the　dichotomy　between　his　terror　of　flying　and　his　fascination　with　what　the　world　looked　like　from　up　here。　He　pulled　himself　back　to　the　book　and　read　of　a　period　when　a　steam　lootive　was　the　leading　edge　of　human　technology；　traveling　at　a　thirtieth　of　what　he　was　doing　now。　This　may　be　terrifying；　but　at　least　it　gets　you　from　place　to　place。
　　　　Dinner　arrived　a　few　minutes　later。　Ryan　found　that　the　champagne　had　given　him　an　appetite。　Jack　was　rarely　hungry　on　an　airplane；　but　much　to　his　surprise　he　was　now。　The　menu　carried　on　the　annoying；　and　baffling；　English　habit　of　advertising　their　food　in　French；　as　if　language　had　any　effect　on　taste。　Jack　soon　found　that　the　taste　needed　no　amplification。　Salmon　gave　way　to　a　surprisingly　good　steak　　something　the　Brits　have　trouble　with　　a　decent　salad；　strawberries　and　cream　for　dessert；　and　a　small　plate　of　cheese。　A　good　port　replaced　the　champagne；　and　Ryan　found　that　forty　minutes　had　slipped　by。　Less　than　two　hours　to　home。
　　　　〃Ladies　and　gentlemen；　this　is　the　captain　speaking。　We　are　now　cruising　at　fifty…three　thousand　feet；　with　a　ground　speed　of　thirteen　hundred　fifty…five　miles　per　hour。　As　we　burn　off　fuel；　the　aircraft　will　float　up　to　a　peak　altitude　of　roughly　fifty…nine　thousand　feet。　The　outside　air　temperature　is　sixty　degrees　below　zero　Celsius；　and　the　aircraft　skin　temperature　is　about　one　hundred　degrees　Celsius；　this　caused　by　friction　as　we　pass　through　the　air。　One　side　effect　of　this　is　that　the　aircraft　expands；　being　roughly　eleven　inches　longer　in　midflight　〃
　　　　Metal　fatigue！　Ryan　thought　bleakly。　Did　you　have　to　tell　me　that？　He　touched　the　window。　It　felt　warm；　and　he　realized　that　one　could　boil　water　on　the　outside　aluminum　skin。　He　wondered　what　effect　that　had　on　the　airframe。　Back　to　the　19th　century；　he　manded　himself　again。　Across　the　aisle　his　daughter　was　asleep；　and　Cathy　was　immersed　in　a　magazine。
　　　　The　next　time　Jack　checked　his　watch　there　was　less　than　an　hour　to　go。　The　captain　said　something　about　Halifax；　Nova　Scotia；　to　his　right。　Jack　looked　but　saw　only　a　vague　dark　line　on　the　northern　horizon。　North　America　　we're　getting　there。　That　was　good　news。　As　always；　his　tension　and　the　airliner　seat　conspired　to　make　his　back　stiff；　and　the　cast　didn't　help　at　all。　He　felt　a　need　to　stand　up　and　walk　a　few　steps；　but　that　was　something　he　tried　not　to　do　on　airplanes。　The　steward　refilled　his　port　glass；　and　Jack　noticed　that　the　angle　of　the　sun　through　the　window　had　not　changed　since　London。　They　were　staying　even；　the　aircraft　keeping　up　with　the　earth's　rotation　as　it　sped　west。　They　would　arrive　at　Dulles　at　about　noon；　the　pilot　informed　them。　Jack　looked　at　his　watch　again：　forty　minutes。　He　stretched　his　legs　and　went　back　to　the　book。
　　　　The　next　disturbance　was　when　the　cabin　crew　handed　out　customs　and　immigration　forms。　As　he　tucked　his　book　away；　Jack　watched　his　wife　go　to　work　listing　all　the　clothes　she'd　bought。　Sally　was　still　asleep；　curled　up　with　an　almost　angelic　peace　on　her　face。　They　made　landfall　a　minute　later　somewhere　over　the　coast　of　New　Jersey；　heading　west　into　Pennsylvania　before　turning　south　again。　The　aircraft　was　lower　now。　He'd　missed　the　transonic　deceleration；　but　the　cumulus　clouds　were　much　closer　than　they'd　been　over　the　ocean。　Okay；　Captain　Higgins；　let's　get　this　bird　back　on　the　ground　in　one　solid　piece。　He　found　a　silver　luggage　tag　that　he　was　evidently　supposed　to　keep。　In　fact；　he　decided　to　keep　the　whole　package；　plete　with　a　certificate　that　identified　him　as　a　Concorde　passenger　　or　veteran；　he　thought　wryly。　I　survived　the　British　Airways　Concorde。
　　　　Dumbass；　if　you'd　flown　the　747　back　home；　you'd　still　be　over　the　ocean。
　　　　They　were　low　enough　to　see　roads　now。　The　majority　of　aircraft　accidents　came　at　landing；　but　Ryan　didn't　see　it　that　way。　They　were　nearly　home。　His　fear　was　nearly　at　an　end。　That　was　good　news　as　he　looked　out　the　window　at　the　Potomac。　Finally　the　Concorde　took　a　large　nose…high　angle　again；　ing　in　awfully　fast。　Jack　thought；　as　she　dropped　gently　toward　the　ground。　A　second　later　he　saw　the　airport　perimeter　fence。　The　heavy　bumps　on　the　airliner's　main　gear　followed　at　once。　They　were　down。　They　were　safe。　Anything　that　happened　now　was　a　vehicle　accident；　not　an　aircraft　one；　he　told　himself。　Ryan　felt　safe　in　cars；　mainly　because　he　was　in　control。　He　remembered　that　Cathy　would　have　to　drive　today；　however。
　　　　The　seat　belt　sign　came　off　a　moment　after　the　aircraft　stopped；　and　the　forward　door　was　opened。　Home。　Ryan　stood　and　stretched。　It　was　good　to　be　stationary。　Cathy　had　their　daughter　in　her　lap；　running　a　brush　through　her　hair　as　Sally　rubbed　the　sleep　from　her　eyes。　
　　　　〃Okay；　Jack？〃　
　　　　〃Are　we　home　already〃〃　Sally　asked。
　　　　Her　father　assured　her　that　they　were。　He　walked　forward。　The　stewardess　who'd　led　him　aboard　asked　if　he'd　enjoyed　the　ride；　and　Jack　replied；　truthfully；　that　he　had。　Now　that　it's　over。　He　found　a　seat　in　the　mobile　lounge；　and　his　family　joined　him。
　　　　〃Next　time　we　go　across；　that's　how　we　do　it；〃　Ryan　announced　quietly。
　　　　〃Why？　Did　you　like　it？〃　Cathy　was　surprised。
　　　　〃You　better　believe　I　like　it。　You　only　have　to　be　up　there　half　as　long。〃　Jack　laughed；　mainly　at　himself。　As　with　every　flight　he　took；　being　back　on　the　ground　alive　carried　its　own　thrill。　He　had　survived　what　was　patently　an　unnatural　act；　and　the　exhilaration　of　being　alive；　and　home；　gave　him　a　quiet　glow　of　his　own。　The　stride　of　passengers　off　an　airplane　is　always　jauntier　than　the　stride　on。　The　lounge　pulled　away。　The　Concorde　looked　very　pretty　indeed　as　they　drew　away　from　it　and　turned　toward　the　terminal。
　　　　〃How　much　money　did　you　spend　on　clothes？〃　Jack　asked　as　the　lounge　stopped　at　the　arrival　gate。　His　wife　just　handed　him　the　form。　〃That　much？〃
　　　　〃Well；　why　not？〃　Cathy　grinned。　〃I　can　pay　for　it　out　of　my　money；　can't　I？〃　
　　　　〃Sure；　babe。〃
　　　　〃And　that's　three　suits　for　you；　too。　Jack；〃　his　wife　informed　him。
　　　　〃What？　How　did　you　〃
　　　　〃When　the　tailor　set　you　up　for　the　tux；　I　had　him　do　three　suits。　Your　arms　are　the　same　length；　Jack。　They'll　fit；　as　soon　as　we　get　that　damned　cast　off　you；　that　is。〃
　　　　Another　nice　thing　about　the　Concorde：　the　airliner　carried　so　few　people；　pared　to　a　wide…body；　that　getting　the　luggage　back　was　a　snap。　Cathy　got　a　wheeled　cart　　which　Sally　insisted　on　pushing　　while　Jack　retrieved　their　bags。　The　last　obstacle　was　customs；　where　they　paid　over　three　hundred　dollars'　worth　of　penance　for　Cathy's　purchases。　Less　than　thirty　minutes　after　leaving　the　aircraft。　Jack　proceeded　to　his　left　out　the　door；　helping　Sally　with　the　luggage　cart。
　　　　〃Jack！〃　It　was　a　big　man；　taller　than　Jack's　six…one；　and　broader　across　the　shoulders。　He　walked　badly　due　to　a　prosthetic　leg　that　extended　above　where　he　had　once　had　a　left　knee；　a　gift　from　a　drunken　driver。　His　artificial　left　foot　was　a　squared…off　aluminum　band　instead　of　something　that　looked　human。　Oliver　Wendell　Tyler　found　it　easier　to　walk　on。　But　his　hand　was　pletely　normal；　if　rather　large。　He　grabbed　Ryan's　and　squeezed。　〃Wele　home；　buddy！〃
　　　　〃How's　it　goin'；　Skip？〃　Jack　disengaged　his　hand　from　the　grip　of　a　former　offensive　tackle　and　mentally　counted　his　fingers。　Skip　Tyler　was　a　close　friend　who　never　fully　appreciated　his　strength。
　　　　〃Good。　Hi；　Cathy。〃　His　wife　got　a　kiss。　〃And　how's　Sally？〃　
　　　　〃Fine。〃　She　held　up　her　arms；　and　got　herself　picked　up　as　desired。　Only　briefly；　though；　Sally　wriggled　free　to　get　back　to　the　luggage　cart。
　　　　〃What　are　you　doing　here？〃　Jack　asked。　Oh；　Cathy　must　have　called　。　。　。　
　　　　〃Don't　worry　about　the　car；〃　Dr。　Tyler　said。　〃Jean　and　I　retrieved　it　for　you；　and　dropped　it　off　home。　We　decided　we'd　pick　you　up　in　ours　　more　room。　She's　getting　it　now。〃　
　　　　〃Taking　a　day　off；　eh？〃
　　　　〃Something　like　that。　Hell；　Jack；　Billings　has　been　covering　your　classes　for　a　couple　of　weeks。　Why　can't　I　take　an　afternoon　off？〃　A　skycap　approached　them；　but　Tyler　waved　him　off。　
　　　　〃How's　Jean？〃　Cathy　asked。　
　　　　〃Six　more　weeks。〃　
　　　　〃It'll　be　a　little　longer　for　us；〃　Cathy　announced。　
　　　　〃Really？〃　Tyler's　face　lit　up。　〃Outstanding！〃　
　　　　It　was　cool；　with　a　bright　autumn　sun；　as　they　left　the　terminal。　Jean　Tyler　was　already　pulling　up　with　the　Tyler　family's　full…size　Chevy　wagon。　Dark…haired；　tall；　and　willowy；　Jean　was　pregnant　with　their　third　and　fourth　children。　The　sonogram　had　confirmed　the　twins　right　before　the　Ryans　had　left　for　England。　Her　otherwise　slender　frame　would　have　seemed　grotesque　with　the　bulge　of　the　babies　except　for　the　glow　on　her　face。　Cathy　went　right　to　her　as　she　got　out　of　the　car　and　said　something。　Jack　knew　what　it　was　immediately　　their　wives　immediately　hugged：　Me；　too。　Skip　wrenched　the　tailgate　open　and　tossed　the　luggage　inside　like　so　many　sheets　of　paper。
　　　　〃I　gotta　admire　your　timing。　Jack。　You　made　it　back　almost　in　time　for　Christmas　break；〃　Skip　observed　as　everyone　got　in　the　car。
　　　　〃I　didn't　exactly　plan　it　that　way；〃　Jack　objected。