"Yes," she said.
"That's how you want it when you put it back on. Now here's your release here…" He showed her. "Pull that now."
"Why do I need to know-"
"Case of emergency. Pull it, please."
She pulled the release. The straps sprang away from her body, the pressure released.
"And just do it up again yourself, if you don't mind."
Jennifer put the contraption back together, just as he had done it before. It wasn't difficult. These people made such a fuss about nothing.
"Now tighten it, please, ma'am."
She pulled the straps.
'Tighter."
"If I need it tighter, I'll tighten it later."
"Ma'am," he said, "by the time you realize you need it tighter, it'll be too late. Do it now, please."
Alongside her, Singleton was calmly putting the harness on, cinching it down brutally. The straps dug into Singleton's thighs, pulled hard on her shoulders. Singleton sighed, sat back.
"I believe you ladies are prepared," the man said. "You have a pleasant flight."
He turned, and went out the door. The pilot, that Rawley character, came back from the cockpit, shaking his head.
"Ladies," he said. "I urge you not to do this." He was looking mostly at Singleton. He almost seemed to be angry at her.
Singleton said, "Fly the plane, Teddy."
"That's your best offer?"
"Best and final."
He disappeared. The intercom clicked. "Prepare to close, please." The doors were closed, clicked shut. Thunk, thank. The air was still cold. Jennifer shivered in her harness.
She looked over her shoulder at the rows of empty seats. Then she looked at Singleton.
Singleton stared straight ahead.
Jennifer heard the whine of the jet engines as they started up, a low moan at first, then rising in pitch. The intercom clicked. She heard the pilot say, 'Tower this is Norton zero one, request clearance for FT station check."
Click. "Roger zero one, taxi across runway two left contact point six."
Click. "Roger, tower."
The plane began to move, rolling forward. Out the windows she saw the sky was lightening. After a few moments, the plane stopped again.
"What are they doing?" Jennifer asked.
"Weighing it," Singleton answered. "They weigh before and after, to guarantee we've simulated flying conditions."
"On some kind of scale?"
"Built into the concrete."
Click. 'Teddy. Need, uh, about two feet more on nose."
Click . "Hangon."
The whine of the engines increased. Jennifer felt the plane inch forward slowly. Then it stopped again.
Click. "Thank you. Got it You're at fifty-seven two seven GW and CO is thirty-two percent MAC. Right where you want to be."
Click. "Bye, guys." Click. 'Tower zero one request clearance for takeoff."
Click. "Cleared runway three contact ground point six three when off the runway."
Click. "Roger."
Then the plane began to roll forward, the engines increasing from a whine to a full deep roar, the sound building until it sounded louder to Jennifer than any engines she had beard before. She felt the thump of me wheels going over the cracks in the runway. And then suddenly they had lifted off, the plane going up, the sky blue out the windows.
Airborne.
Click. "Oh-kay, ladies, we are going to proceed to flight level three seven zero, that's thirty-seven thousand feet, and we are going to circle there between Yuma station and Carstairs, Nevada, for the duration of this excursion. Everybody comfy? If you look to your left, you will see our chase plane coming alongside."
Jennifer looked out and saw a silver jet fighter, glinting in the morning light It was very close to their aircraft, close enough to see the pilot wave. Then suddenly it slid backward.
Click. "Uh, you probably won't see much more of him, he'll be staying high and behind us, out of our wake, the safest place to be. Right now we are coming up on twelve thousand feet, you may want to swallow, Ms. Malone, we're not creeping up like the airlines."
Jennifer swallowed, heard her ears pop loudly. She said, "Why are we going up so fast?"
"He wants to get to altitude quickly, to cold soak the plane."
"Cold soak?"
"At thirty-seven thousand feet, the air temperature is minus fifty degrees. The airplane is warmer than that right now, and different parts will cool off at different rates, but eventually on a long flight-such as a long Pacific crossing-all the parts of the plane will reach that temperature. One of the questions for the IRT is whether the cable rigging behaves differently at cold temperature. Cold soaking means putting the plane up at altitude long enough to cool it down. Then we begin the test"
"How long are we talking?" Jennifer said.
"Standard cold soak is two hours."
"We have to sit here for two hours?"
Singleton looked at her. "You wanted to come."
"You mean we spend two hours doing nothing?"
Click. "Oh, we'll try to amuse you, Ms. Malone," the pilot said. "We're now at twenty-two thousand feet and climbing. It'll be another few minutes to cruise altitude. We are at two eighty-seven KIAS and we will stabilize at three forty KIAS which is point eight Mach, eighty percent of the speed of
sound. That's the usual cruise speed for commercial aircraft Everybody comfy?"
Jennifer said, "Can you hear us?"
"I can hear you and see you. And if you look to your right, you can see me."
A monitor in the cabin in front of them came on. Jennifer saw the pilot's shoulder, his head, the controls arrayed in front of him. Bright light out the window.
Now they were high enough that full sunlight streamed in through the windows. But the ulterior of the plane was still cold. Because she was sitting in the center of the cabin, Jennifer could not see the ground out the windows.
She looked at Singleton.
Singleton smiled.
Click. "Ah, okay, we are now at flight level three seven zero, Doppler clear, no turbulence, a beautiful day in the neighborhood. Would you ladies please unbuckle your harnesses, and come to the cockpit"
What? Jennifer thought But Singleton was already taking hers off, standing up in the cabin.
"I thought we couldn't walk around."
"It's okay right now," Singleton said.
Jennifer climbed out of her harness, and walked with Singleton up through first class, to the cockpit. She felt the faint vibration of the airplane beneath her feet. But it was quite stable. The door to the cockpit was open. She saw Rawley in there, with a second man he didn't introduce, and a third who was working with some instrumentation. Jennifer stood with Singleton just outside the cockpit looking in.
"Now Ms. Malone," Rawley said. "You interviewed Mr. Barker, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"What did he say was the cause of the accident?"
"He said the slats deployed."
"Uh-huh. Okay, please watch carefully. This is the flaps slats handle here. We are at cruise speed, cruise altitude. I am now going to deploy the slats." He reached his hand forward to the thing between the seats.
"Wait a minute! Let me get strapped in!"
"You're perfectly safe, Ms. Malone."
"I want to sit down, at least."
"Then sit down."
Jennifer started back, then realized that Singleton was remaining standing by the cockpit door. Staring at her. Feeling foolish, Jennifer went back and stood by Singleton.
"Deploying slats now."
Rawley pushed the lever down. She heard a faint rumble that lasted a few seconds. Nothing else. The nose tilted, steadied.