"Slats are extended." Rawley pointed to the instrument panel. "You see the speed? You see the altitude? And you see that indicator that says SLATS? We have just duplicated the exact conditions that Mr. Barker insists caused the death of three people, on this very same aircraft. And as you see, nothing happened. The attitude is rock solid. Want to try again?"
"Yes," she said. She didn't know what else to say.
"Okay. Slats retracting. This time, maybe you'd like to do it yourself, Ms. Malone. Or maybe you'd like to walk over and look at the wings, see what actually happens when the slats extend. It's kind of neat."
Rawley pressed a button. "Ah, Norton station, this is zero one, can I have a monitor check?" He listened a moment. "Okay, fine. Ms. Malone, move a little forward, so your friends can see you on that camera up there." He pointed up to the ceiling of the cockpit. "Give 'em a wave."
Jennifer waved, feeling foolish.
"Ms. Malone, how many more times would you like us to extend and retract the slats to satisfy your cameras?"
"Well, I don't know…" She was feeling more foolish by the minute. The flight test was starting to seem like a trap. The footage would make Barker look like a fool. It would make the whole segment look ridiculous. It would make-
"We can do this all day, if you like," Rawley was saying. "That's the point. No problem deploying the slats at cruise speed on the N-22. Plane can handle it fine."
'Try it once more," she said, tightly.
"That's the handle there. Just flip that little metal cover up, and pull it down about an inch."
She knew what he was doing. Putting her in the shot.
"I think you'd better do it."
"Yes, ma'am. Whatever you say."
Rawley pulled the lever down. The rumbling occurred again. The nose went up slightly. Exactly as before.
"Now," Rawley said, "we've got the chase plane getting views for you showing the slats extending, so you'll have exterior angles showing all the action. Okay? Slats retracting."
She watched impatiently. "Well," she said. "If the slats didn't cause this accident, what did?"
Singleton spoke for the first time. "How long has it been now, Teddy?"
"We've been up twenty-three minutes."
"Is that long enough?"
"Maybe. Could happen any minute now."
"What could happen?" Jennifer said.
"The first part of the sequence," Singleton said, "that caused the accident."
"The first part of the sequence?"
"Yes," Singleton said. "Nearly all aircraft accidents are the result of a sequence of events. We call it a cascade. It's never one thing. There's a chain of events, one after another. On this aircraft, we believe the initiating event was an erroneous fault reading, caused by a bad part."
With a sense of dread, Jennifer said, "A bad part?'
She was immediately recutting the tape in her mind. Getting around this awkward point. Singleton had said it was the initiating event. That didn't have to be emphasized, especially if it was just a link in the chain of events. The next link in the chain was equally important-probably more important After all, what had happened on 545 was terrifying and spectacular, it involved the whole airplane, and it was surely unreasonable to blame it on a bad part.
"You said there was a chain of events…"
"That's right," Singleton said. "Several events in a sequence that we believe led to the final outcome."
Jennifer felt her shoulders drop.
They waited.
Nothing happened.
Five minutes went by. Jennifer was cold. She kept glancing at her watch. "What exactly are we waiting for?'
"Patience," Singleton said.
Then there was an electronic ping, and she saw amber words flash on the instrument panel. It said slats disagree.
"There it is," Rawley said.
"There what is?'
"An indication that the FDAU believes the slats are not where they're supposed to be. As you see, the slats lever is up, so the slats should be stowed. And we know they are. But the airplane is picking up a reading that they are not stowed. In this case, we know the warning is coming from a bad proximity sensor in the right wing. The proximity sensor should read the presence of the retracted slat. But this sensor's been damaged. And when the sensor gets cold, it behaves erratically. Tells the pilot the slats are extended, when they're not."
Jennifer was shaking her head. "Proximity sensor… I'm not following you. What does this have to do with Flight 5457'
Singleton said, 'The cockpit on 545 got a warning that something was wrong with the slats. Warnings like that happen fairly frequently. The pilot doesn't know whether something is really wrong, or whether the sensor is just acting up. So the pilot tries to clear the warning; he runs out the slats and retracts them."
"So the pilot on 545 deployed the slats, to clear the warning?"
"Yes."
"But deploying the slats didn't cause the accident…"
"No. We' ve just demonstrated that."
"What did?"
Rawley said, "Ladies, if you will please take your seats, we will now attempt to reproduce the event."
ABOARD TPA 545
6:25 a.m.
In the center passenger cabin, Casey pulled the harness straps over her shoulders and cinched them tight She looked over at Malone, who was sweating, her face pale.
'Tighter," Casey said
"I already did-"
Casey reached over, grabbed her waist strap, and pulled as hard as she could.
Malone grunted. "Hey, for Christ's-"
"I don't much like you," Casey said, "but I don't want your little ass getting hurt on my watch."
Malone wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. Although the cabin was cold, sweat was running down her face.
Casey took out a white paper bag, and shoved it under Malone's thigh. "And I don't want you throwing up on me," she said.
"Do you think we'll need that?"
"I guarantee it," Casey said.
Malone's eyes were flicking back and forth. "Listen," she said, "maybe we should call this off."
"Change the channel?"
"Listen," Malone said, "maybe I was wrong."
"About what?"
"We shouldn't have come on the plane. We should have just watched."
'Too late now," Casey said.
She knew she was being tough with Malone because she was frightened herself. She didn't think Teddy was right about the airframe cracking; she didn't think he was foolish enough to go up in a plane that hadn't been thoroughly checked. He had hung around every minute of the tests, during the structural work, the CET, because he knew in a few days he was going to have to fly it. Teddy wasn't stupid.
But he was a test pilot, she thought.
And all test pilots were crazy.
Click. "All right, ladies, we are initiating the sequence. Everybody strapped in tight?"
"Yes," Casey said.
Malone said nothing. Her mouth was moving, but she wasn't saying anything.
Click. "Ah, chase alpha, this is zero one, initiating pitch oscillations now."
Click. "Roger zero one. We have you. Initiate on your mark."
Click. "Norton ground, this is zero one. Monitor check."
Click. "Check confirm. One to thirty."
Click. "Here we go, fellas. Mark."
Casey watched on the side monitor, which snowed Teddy in the cockpit His movements were calm, assured. His voice relaxed.
Click. "Ladies, I have received my slats disagree warning, and I am now extending the slats to clear the warning. Slats are now extended. I am out of the autopilot now. Nose is up, speed decreases… and I now have a stall…"