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〃Don't be so damned cynical；〃 Rob Knight said。 〃Listen； Jake； it may well e down to buying this plane to replace the A…6 or doing without。 Ludlow and Royce Caplinger have to be goddamn sure they have the votes in Congress before they go up to Capitol Hill with their hats in their hands。〃
〃That's their problem； not mine。 I'm just a worn…out； washed…up attack pilot。 I didn't understand two words that DeCrescentis woman said。〃 He twiddled some knobs。 〃I didn't ask for this job；〃 he roared。 〃I'm not going to be responsible for whether twenty thousand people keep their jobs！ Don't lay that crap on me！〃
Knight retreated down the ladder。 Fritsche followed； his face averted。 Jake sat alone in the cockpit。 He tried to imagine how this plane would feel to fly。 With his right arm in the rest and his hand on the stick and his left curved over the throttles； he thought about how it would feel to look through the HUD at a Soviet ship。 This plane had to be able to take on Soviet ships in the Med and the Indian Ocean and the Arctic in winter。 But it also had to be able to fight in brushfire wars in places like Lebanon and North Africa； Afghanistan； Iran； Korea； Vietnam。 Maybe China。 Could it？ With million…dollar missiles and a five…G restriction？
When he had recovered his temper； he motioned to Knight and Fritsche； who ascended the ladder again。 〃What would Sam Dodgers' gizmo do for this plane？〃
〃Lower the RCS from a bird to a June bug。〃 Fritsche frowned。 〃It's so stealthy now that making it more so wouldn't be cost…effective； at least not in the lifetime of this machine。 That's just my opinion； of course。〃
〃On the other hand；〃 Knight said； 〃this plane wouldn't be junk if Dodgers' suppressor can't be made to work in a real airplane。 Dodgers knows the reflective characteristics of that tabernacle wall precisely when viewed from the old outhouse by one radar。 Protecting a shape as plex as an aircraft from numerous transmitters and God knows how many receivers situated in ail three dimensions…that's another thing altogether。〃
〃Tell me what all this stuff is；〃 Jake said。 〃This doesn't look like any cockpit I ever saw。〃
〃Both prototypes have exactly the same layout。 This is all the stuff that was going into the A…6G。 What these television…screen things are are Multifunction Displays。 This lower middle one is a map that moves as the plane moves。 The plane always stays in the center。 This should do away with the necessity for the crew to always carry awkward charts in the cockpit。
〃Now these upper two MFDs present literally all the information the pilot might wish to know； or the info can be presented on the HUD。 A touch of the button calls up engine information； another button calls up the radar presentation from the rear cockpit； still another the presentation from either one of the two IR sensors； and so on。 Then there's a variety of tactical displays。。。〃 He droned on。
Jake was astounded。 This was several generations beyond the A…6 cockpit。 It was technically as far beyond an A…6 as an A…6 was from a World War II B…17。 〃I had no idea；〃 he muttered； awed。
Knight showed him the rear cockpit。 It was equally futuristic。 Instead of the HUD control panel； it possessed a third MFD； so three of them were arranged in a row right across the panel。 Under the center one was the map display。 〃This moving map…didn't James Bond have one like this in one of the movies？〃
〃Yep。 But this is better。〃
〃Mamma Mia！〃
The BN in an A…6 had one cursor control stick。 The BN in this plane had two； one on each side panel； and instead of just a couple of buttons sticking out； each stick was festooned with buttons； like warts。 〃The idea is that the BN won't have to reach for controls。 Everything he needs is on those control sticks。〃
After Jake spent another half hour walking around the airplane and looking at every inch； he asked each of the manders what they thought。 One plained about range and payload； another about the intake problems； a third about the difficulty of maintenance。 All were aghast at the cost。 〃But five years from now we'll all probably think sixty…two million dollars for a plane was a hell of a buy；〃 Smoke Judy mented。
〃You know；〃 Jake said later as he stood in the doorway with Helmut Fritsche and looked back at the all…black airplane； 〃I had an uncle who went to the car dealer one morning to buy a station wagon for the family； and that evening he went home with a little red convertible coupe。〃
〃High tech is sexy。〃
Jake thought about it。 〃It's so damn neat that you try to convince yourself that you need it。 All the bells and whistles and doohickeys and thingamajigs。 And the day you have to bet your ass on these gadgets； they don't work。〃
〃Shapes and absorbers work。〃
〃I suppose。 But how is Sam Dodgers' superconductive puter with multiple CPUs going to work after five hundred catapult shots and five hundred arrested landings when some kid racks the plane through a six…G pull to evade an optically aimed missile？ How are all these MFDs and IR sensors and ring…laser gyros going to hold up？ Is this techno…junk gonna work then？〃
9
Terry Franklin stood with his back against a pillar and tried to keep his face pointed at Lincoln's Second Inaugural Address。 The pillar was the second one on the right after you came through the main entrance。 The man on the phone had been very precise about that。 Second pillar on the right； on the side toward the Inaugural Address。
His eyes kept moving。 He was nervous； so nervous。 He had vomited up his breakfast an hour ago。。。 Not that person； a teenage girl。 Not that old fat woman with the cane and the two kids。 Maybe that man in the suit over there。。。 he could be FBI。 Was he looking this way？ Why was he turning？ That long…haired guy in jeans。。。
He had been here ten minutes and had already spotted five men who could be FBI。 Maybe they all were。 What if they had him staked out； like a goat？ Maybe he should just leave； walk away and forget all of this。 He had plenty of money。 Enough。 He had enough。 If they weren't on to him he could live carefully and fortably for years with no one the wiser。 But what if they knew？
〃It's one of the world's great speeches； isn't it？〃
He turned and stared。 A man； in his fifties with a tan face； stocky； wearing a short jacket； looking at the speech carved in the marble。 On his head a brimmed hat。 What's the response？ Holy。。。 think！ 〃Yeah。。。 uh； but I think the Gettysburg Address is better。〃
〃Stay twenty feet or so behind me。〃 The man turned and walked for the entrance； not fast； not slow； just walking。 After he had gone three paces Terry Franklin could wait no longer and followed。
The man was only ten feet ahead going down the wide； broad steps in front of the Memorial。 Franklin forced himself to slow down and lag behind。 The distance had increased to fifteen feet by the time they reached the sidewalk； but it narrowed again as Franklin strode along。 He stood right behind the man as he waited for a tour bus to roll by。
On the other side of the street the man said； 〃Walk beside me。〃 He led Terry along the north side of the Reflecting Pool until he found an empty bench。 〃Here；〃 he said。
〃Can't we go somewhere private？〃