Part 11 (1/2)

aThey're not responding,a the air traffic control supervisor told his visitors.

Lake most air traffic controllers, the supervisor had a strong sense of what was proper. In his book having a bunch of police and other gawkers invade his control center was highly improper. However, as an ex-Air Force controller he was disinclined to argue. The best he could do was keep them out of his people's hair, be civil to them and hope they would get out of his control center soon.

aIsn't that illegal? Ignoring air traffic control?a asked one of his visitors, a blocky middle-aged man in an expensive suit. The supervisor had already sized him up as the one who was running this show. The police captain and other officers, as well as the gaggle of civil servants from federal and state agencies, didn't seem to count for much.

aMaybe their radios are out,a the supervisor said, more to annoy his unwanted guests than out of any belief. Charlie had only been in town for a couple of weeks on this visit, but already the controllers knew him and his plane.

aWhere are they going?a The supervisor glanced over a controller's shoulder. aNorth and a little east.a aDidn't they file a flight plan?a aYeah, but they've already deviated from it. Besides, according to the plan they're coming back here.a aWell, stop them,a the suit snapped. The supervisor just looked at him until he realized now stupid that was and reddened.

It's easier dealing with the DEA, the supervisor thought.

aI mean, can you alert the airports within range and have them report when it lands?a the suit asked in a lame attempt to cover himself.

aIf they land at an airport. From the looks of that plane it can set down on any strip of flat desert from here to Idaho.a The suit clearly didn't like that. The police captain, on the other hand, seemed less concerned. Clearly he was just glad to get the problem out of his jurisdiction.

aWell,a said the civilian, obviously trying to control his temper, acan you follow them on radar?a aFor a while. But they're descending rapidly. If they get right down on the deck we'll lose them in the clutter.a aHow fast can you get a plane after them?a one of the lesser suits asked.

The supervisor shrugged. aAsk the police, or maybe the DEA. Or you may have to rent something.a The suit turned to look at the police captain.

aWe've got an air unit that can follow them for a while,a the cop said.

aDon't worry about following them too far,a the supervisor told the visitors. aThey're headed into restricted airs.p.a.ce. If they don't change course pretty soon the Air Force will take care of them.a aWhat will they do?a the suit asked.

aIf they don't break off? Then they're going to overfly Area Fifty-One. The Air Force is real touchy about uninvited visitors there.a The suit looked apprehensive. aBut what will they do about it?a aIntercept them. Try to get them to land.a The supervisor shrugged. aIn the worst case they'll blow them out of the sky.a aWe are getting close,a Kuznetsov yelled in Mick Gilligan's ear.

Mick didn't recognize the terrain, but he didn't need the Russian to tell him where they were. They'd crossed the highway some time back, pulling up so they didn't collide with any cars or trucks and scaring the heck out of a couple of tourists. By now they had to be inside the restricted airs.p.a.ce that surrounded the base and soon they'd be over the line on the base itself.

The Russian leaned over Mick's shoulder and pointed at a nondescript building on top of a nearby mountain.

aRadar station,a Kuznetzov shouted over the noise of the engine. aNormally would have been eliminated by speznatz, but no speznatz, soaa He shrugged.

Gilligan turned in his seat to look at him closely. aWhat in the h.e.l.l are you?a he yelled.

aI told you,a Kuznetsov shouted back, aI am a businessman.a aYeah, but what did you used to be?a aUsed to be businessmen were parasites and enemies of people. So I was good Communist like everybody else.a aHeads up!a Charlie called. aHere comes company.a It only took Mick an instant to pick up the two dots headed toward them. They quickly grew and resolved into the gray shark shapes of a pair of F-16s.

This is a nightmare, Mick thought I'm going to wake up soon and find out this whole thing is just a nightmare. But the F-16s kept coming.

I should have gotten out back in 1978 when I was still a captain, Major General Paul Manley thought as he stared at the radar plot. Outwardly everyone in the command center was cool and professional, but you could feel the tension rising. Right now the tensest place in the room was the pit of General Manley's stomach. Unusually for the Air Force, General Manley was not an experienced combat pilot. Even his tour in Vietnam had been spent pulling pilots out of the jungle with Air Rescue rather than dropping bombs. For the first time in his career as an Air Force officer he was probably going to have to kill someone.

aBreak off, you d.a.m.n fools,a he muttered at the dot on the scope. But the point of green light kept coming straight for the smear of the mountain range and the base beyond.

One of the problems with running the most highly secret military base in the United States was the tourists. Groom Lake was so secret it was regularly written up in national magazines. So naturally it drew military buffs, peace protesters, flying saucer fanatics and a.s.sorted religious cranks, crazies and general-issue looney-toons like a magnet draws iron filings.

That in fact was one of Groom Lake's functions. While there was some very secret work done here, the focus of developing the next-generation aircraft had s.h.i.+fted elsewhere. General Manley knew that the next generation was really being developed in an industrial park in Los Angeles by a weird mix of civilian engineers, aretireda military officers and science fiction fans, most of whom thought they were working for a private foundation running on a shoestring.

There was also the aagricultural experiment stationa up in northern Idaho where the really secret work was done. That was so highly cla.s.sified the general could hardly bear to think about it. While the work went on there, all the flak came to Groom Lake, and it was part of General Manley's job to catch it.

The most dangerous of the groups were the military buffs who prided themselves on collecting every sc.r.a.p of information about programs they were supposed to know nothing about. By combining everything from chance sightings to seismic records of sonic booms they had pieced together remarkably detailed pictures of several of the craft that actually existed at Area 51, as well as equally detailed pictures of several that had never existed, including one that had started out as a practical joke in the Nellis AFB officer's club.

Those people the general could almost sympathize with. The most irritating ones, and the most persistent, were the s.p.a.ce nuts who kept insisting that the government had a flying saucer hidden in one of the hangars. Their latest tactic had been to file a lawsuit claiming the saucer's force fields were making people sick for miles around. Lawyers for the saucerians had been combing the spa.r.s.ely populated desert around the base seeking people with illnesses, real or imaginary, that they could blame on the presence of the alien s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p. The next step would be a cla.s.s action suit against the government with all kinds of discovery motions.

Was this more saucer folk, General Manley wondered, or was it another camera crew from a tabloid TV show? Using a Russian airplane would appeal to those bozos.

Whoever it was was in for a big disappointment even if they lived to get here. The truth was there was nothing to see. The plane was so slow the base had plenty of time to get anything sensitive under covera”a well-practiced maneuver because of Russian spy satellites. Besides, nothing interesting happened outdoors in the daytime.

Off in the background a phone rang. The general gritted his teeth and wished he hadn't quit smoking.

If he thought that plane represented a threat to his command he would have ordered it shot out of the air without hesitation. But unless there was a nuclear weapon on board there wasn't a d.a.m.n thing it could be carrying that would seriously hurt this base. He knew it, everyone in the command center knew it and the one also knew the standing orders. The fact was he'd need a d.a.m.n good reason not to shoot that plane down.

aGeneral,a the lieutenant holding the phone said hesitantly. She was young, fresh-faced and buxom even through her flight suit. She reminded the general of his daughter, who was also a lieutenant training at fighter school at Luke Air Force Base.

aSir, it's the XO.a General Manley glared. aSir, he says it's urgent,a the lieutenant offered.

The general sighed and extended a hand for the phone. aSir,a the XO said, aI've got a lawyer on the phone. And I've got the Pentagon on the other line telling us to cooperate with him 'to the maximum extent feasible.'a Oh Jesus, the general thought, what now?

Wiz was still wondering about it when the scenery changed again. This section of tunnel was neatly floored and walled with blocks of worked stone. Columns stood along the walls supporting groined vaulting overhead. After all the different kinds of tunnels they had seen, Wiz wasn't particularly surprised, but he was reminded of pictures of the crypts under a Gothic cathedral.

Just to be sure he motioned to Danny. The younger programmer swept his magic detector back and forth across their path and then shook his head. No magic before them.

Wiz took three steps before Malkin grabbed his arm.

aFreeze,a she commanded aWhat's wrong?a aYour trusting nature, for a start,a the tall thief said.

aBut thereas no magic here.a Malkin looked amused. aDo you think that's the only danger we face? Look at this place. Why do you think it's built like this?a To hold the roof up?a aPerhaps. But why here and nowhere else we have seen? Give me more light, if you can.a With that she picked her way ahead, studying the floor before her intently and occasionally poking and prodding with her rapier.

She got perhaps a dozen steps beyond Wiz before she stopped dead and looked around. Finally she reached into her pack and pulled out a rock the size of her fist. She tossed it underhand at a perfectly unremarkable section of stone floor a couple of steps ahead of her.

As soon as the rock struck there was a creak and a section of the floor swung downward, leaving a gaping blackness beneath. Far below Wiz thought he heard the sound of rus.h.i.+ng water, but he heard no splash from the stone. Then there was another creak and the stones swung back into place, leaving the floor looking as perfect as before. Malkin looked smug.

aHow did you know that was there?a The stonework was too regular,a she told him, leaving Wiz to try to determine why that section of the paving was any more regular than any other.

aNow listen,a she said. aI'm going to go ahead to find the traps. I'll mark the safe path and then you come through one at a time. No more. We want as little weight on this floor as we can.a As Wiz and the others watched, Malkin picked her way over the stone floor. Twice more she marked hidden traps with a bit of charcoal stuck on the point of her rapier, and once she skipped neatly out of the way as a blade swung down from the ceiling on a long rod.

aAll right,a she called back as the blade slowed. aThe place is so big we'll have to do this in stages. The first one of you follow my path to here. The next one come to that white stone just in front of the second trap.a Wiz picked his way forward and Danny followed. By the time he had reached the now-still blade, Malkin was up ahead, dodging in and out of the forest of columns.

They watched intently as she spotted another trap, then she stepped behind a pillar and they couldn't see her anymore.

aHey!a they heard her yell. aWhataa With that Wiz and Danny were off and running. They stayed on the safe path Malkin had marked for them but they were almost side by side when they reached her.

They gasped when Malkin stepped out in the light. Her entire right side was splattered with blood. Gore was matted in her hair and dripped down one side of her face. But she strode toward them strongly, rapier in hand, apparently unaware of the extent of her injuries.

aWe,a she announced, ahave got to do something about that lobster.a Shock, thought Wiz numbly. She's in shock. He and Danny rushed to meet her and half-carried her back to the others. Malkin was apparently too dazed to appreciate their help. She struggled and protested all the way back.

aWill you to let go of me!a she demanded as they laid her down on a cloak. Danny managed to get her rapier and Wiz tried to hold her down so June could work on her. Malkin was having none of it. She pushed and shoved and tried to knee Wiz in the groin.

aHave you run mad?a she demanded.