“Good,” he said and headed back up to the main level.
He walked into Bay–5 and saw one of the scientists he thought would be able to answer his questions.
“Where do we stand at this point?” Devin asked.
“General. We are trying to get the cone perfected to the exact shape as the rod. We think the control problems are caused by imperfections. Maybe tiny air pockets that cause the field to become unstable,” he said.
“Are you saying our laser equipment isn’t good enough to do the job?”
“It’s not so much that as it is we haven’t defined the tolerances closely enough. At least that is the direction we are going. It could prove to be wrong but if nothing else we can eliminate that as a source of the problem.”
“Damn it, we have been eliminating sources of the problem for almost sixty years. What are we going to have to do, wait another sixty?” he asked bitterly.
“Sorry sir. We are doing everything we can to discover what the problem is. It’s like untangling a huge ball of string. We get one section unraveled and find another knot that is even bigger. Each one leads to another and another. We can only remedy the problems by taking it one step at a time.”
“Yes. Yes. I hear that every week. We’re doing the best we can. Our future sits here like a lump of clay. I’m depending on you people to mold it into something that can be used. Tell Dr. Yurris I said that.”
“Yes sir,” the scientist said.
There was nothing more to be added. Dr. Yurris was now the team leader on the anti-matter flux generator. ‘Accidents’ had happened to the two previous team leaders that he had selected. A third might have to happen if Dr. Yurris didn’t make some progress soon, he thought to himself.
Devin went up to the main level, got into his Hummer and drove back to the main facility. When he got there, people were running around in various states of anxiety.
“What’s going on?”
“Sir. The Su-11 has declared an emergency. It’s on its way in. They lost all power so they are trying to glide it back to the field.”
“How far out are they?”
“Over Phoenix.”
“Good God. What’s their altitude?
“150,000 feet.”
“I don’t think they can make it this far,” he said, mostly to himself.
“No one else does either. If that thing goes down in a populated area, all hell is going to break loose.”
“Thank you airman,” he said and hurried to the control tower. It was a beehive of activity when he walked in.
“Atten…”
“Get back to work,” he yelled, stopping the airman in mid-sentence.
He headed to the radar screen with several men and women gathered around it. A couple were making notations and doing calculations.
“How is it looking?”
“Grim sir. They are trying to slow the rate of descent but with no hydraulics it is very difficult to control the craft. Unless he can slow it down from its present rate we estimate it will go down right about here,” he said, pointing to a map.
“Rochel. It could be worse. At least it will be in Nevada,” he said, “What is your plan?”
“Well sir, we have two that we are implementing. We have dispatched a first response recovery team to be in the vicinity of Rochel and Templut. They are just a mile or so apart. Once we know where they come down, we can set up a perimeter.”
“And the other plan?”
“If they should make it back here, they will have no way of extending the landing gear. They will have to pancake in. We have all of our trucks standing by to foam the runway. As smooth as the bottom is on that thing, it will go a long way before it settles down.”
“Not good either way. Okay. You have done all you can at this point. It’s up to the pilot now.”
“General,” one of the men yelled out.
“What is it son?”
“Something is wrong. I am loosing contact with them. Look at the screen, it shows them breaking up,” he said.
“Oh dear God,” someone muttered.
“Where is the impact point?”
“Looks like it will be about thirty-two miles west of Phoenix, near Tonopah, Arizona. They didn’t make it to Nevada.”
“Get some choppers in the air and get that first response team on the site ASAP. I don’t want any civilians going near that craft if at all possible. Alert the Arizona State Police and have them head for that area as well. Someone, get me the Governor of Arizona on the line,” he said, directing the men around him.
He grabbed one of the officers and said, “Get Luke Air Force Base to send some search choppers to that area. Tell them it is an ultra-secret prototype plane and we don’t want anyone to get near it. Understand?”
“Yes sir,” he said rushing to a phone. “Have we overlooked anything?”
“I don’t think so sir. All we can do now is wait and see what happens next.”
“You wait. I want a chopper on the pad, ready to go ten minutes ago,” he said heading for the stairs.
With everything else going on, this was the last thing he needed.
