第10节

ain supply."

'Okay. Get on it - including anything I've forgotten."

Anderssen paused reflectively. 'Actually, after he'd washed out those

goddam plaits that long hair of his didn't look so bad."

'No,' said Hiller. 'I quite liked it."

Anderssen reached out and ran her fingertips through the hair over

Hiller's right ear. 'Maybe you could try growing yours a little

longer."

'Yes,' said Hiller. She smoothed her hair back into place. 'I'll

think about it."

Steve lost his bearings after leaving Anderssen's office but he knew he

was outside the bunker when he felt the earth under his feet and the

smell of the grass filtered through the light-proof vents in his

hood.

'Okay,' said a voice. 'Put your feet together and bend your knees

forward. We're gonna lift you into the aircraft." Three pairs of

hands grabbed hold of him and hoisted him into the air. Another pair

of hands guided his feet down under what he visualised was the

instrument panel. He felt them touch the floor. 'Okay, sit down."

Steve sat. Hands pulled the straps of the safety harness over his

shoulders and thighs, clipped them into the quick release buckle, then

adjusted the tension so that he was held down firmly.

'Now put your wrists together,' said the voice.

Steve offered up his manacled wrists. Another chain was passed around

his wrists, drawing his hands tightly together and towards the

right-hand side of the cockpit.

He heard the snap of a padlock closing. 'Okay, Don.

He's stowed away nice and tight."

Don . . .?

Steve aimed his head up to the right. 'What happens if we have to get

out in a hurry?"

A hand patted him on the head and a new voice said, 'I guess it means

that you don't, good buddie."

Terrific...

'Okay, let's go,' said the first voice. 'We've done the map plot, so

you know the course heading. We'll fly a loose diamond at three

thousand feet. Seventy per cent power after climbout. You lead,

Don.

I'll take the number two starboard station. Joe, number three to port,

Tony, you sit on our tail."

Steve heard the others murmur their assent. 'What's the Santa Fe

channel?" asked a third voice. Steve caught his breath as he

recognised it. Come on - it couldn't be...

'Tower frequency is Channel Ten. I'll give you the switch when we

clear Pueblo."

Steve felt someone settling into the left-hand seat. He spoke into the

enveloping darkness. 'Is that you, Don?

Don Lundkwist?"

'Yeah, that's me,' said the voice, with a hint of surprise. 'Who's

under there?"

Steve laughed. 'It's me! Steve! Steve Brickman."

'Christopher Columbus,' muttered Lundkwist. 'I thought you were

dead!

Listen, hold it down - we'll talk later." The electric motor burst

into life with a loud vrooomm as she pressed the button on the dash. A

few minutes later they were airborne.

How amazing, reflected Steve. Of all people. His escort on the first

leg of his journey was to be Donna Monroe Lundkwist. The last time

he'd seen her had been in his shack at the Flight Academy on Graduation

Day. Lying naked alongside him on the bunk. With his guard-father

asleep right beside them in his wheelchair.

A quarter of an hour into the flight, after they'd levelled off,

Lundkwist removed Steve's hood. As his eyes adjusted to the light he

saw to his surprise that they were seated under a streamlined

plexiglass canopy. All the Skyhawks Steve had ever seen were open

cockpit models. He took in the view. The weather was good, the sky

blue, with scattered alto cumulus and you could see for ever. In an

ordinary Skyhawk, Steve might have been frozen stiff but with a closed