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ay flying is。 And occasionally you're going to make a mistake； nick it up。 That's inevitable。 The trick is to not make a fatal mistake。〃
Jake Grafton's voice hardened。 〃Flying isn't chess or football or checkers！ Flying isn't some game！ Flying is life distilled down to the essence…it's the straight； two hundred…proof stuff。 And Rita knows； she's a U。S。 Naval Aviator。 She chose this line of work and worked like a slave to earn that ride today。 She knows。〃
〃Yes；〃 Toad admitted。 〃She knows。〃
At 3 A。M。 Rita's mother answered her phone in Connecticut。 She had obviously just awoke。 〃This is Toad Tarkington； Mrs。 Moravia。〃 You know； the guy who married your daughter？ 〃Sorry to bother you this time of night I tried to call earlier…〃
〃We were at a party。 Is everything okay？〃 She was wide awake now and being apprehensive。
〃Well； not really。 That's sorta why I'm calling。 I thought you should know。〃
She went to battle stations while Toad tried to collect his thoughts。
He interrupted her torrent of words。 〃What it is…Rita and I jumped out of an airplane today； Mrs。 Moravia。 Rita's over in the hospital now。〃
He could hear her talking to Mr。 Moravia。 The pitch in her voice was rising。
〃Anyway； Rita's banged up pretty good and I thought you should know。〃
〃How bad is it？〃
〃She's in a a； Mrs。 Moravia。 She hit the ground before her parachute had time to open。〃 Silence。 Dead silence。 Toad continued； 〃Anyway； I'm with her and she's getting the best medical treatment there is and I'll call and let you know when anything changes。〃
Mr。 Moravia spoke now。 Perhaps his wife had handed him the phone。 〃What's the prognosis； son？〃
〃She could die； Mr。 Moravia。 She's in bad shape。〃
〃Should we e out there？〃 He didn't even know where Toad was calling from。
〃Not now。 When she es out of the a； that might be a good idea。 But not now。 I'll keep you advised。〃
〃Are you okay？〃
〃Fine； sir。 No injuries。〃 Nice that he should ask； Toad thought。
〃We'll pray for her。〃
〃Yes； do that。 I'm doing some of that myself。〃
Harry Franks； the program manager for TRX； stood in the middle of the hangar issuing orders。 A small army of workmen were placing wreckage in piles as he directed。 They had been working since dawn。
He greeted Jake Grafton without enthusiasm。 〃Give me five more minutes and we'll go upstairs；〃 he said； then pointed to a pile for a forklift operator with a piece of what looked like outboard wingtip。
Jake and the manders wandered toward the door； trying to get out of the way。 The plane had exploded and burned when it hit； so the pieces that were left were blackened and charred。
In an office on the second floor； the engineers from the pany that had manufactured the fly…by…wire system； AeroTech； were pleting the setup of their equipment。 An AeroTech vice president sat on one of the few chairs； sipping coffee and watching the final installation of the network of wires that powered and connected the test boxes。 He didn't look very vice presidential。 He and the engineers had flown in early this morning and had had only a few hours' sleep。 He stood up to shake hands with Jake。
After the introductions； they got right to it。 The only surviving processor from the crashed prototype was carefully removed from its bent； damaged box and its innards exposed。 It was physically examined by the assembled experts with all the curiosity of a group of med students examining a man with a new disease。
Jake backed off to let the experts have room。 He found himself beside Harry Franks。 〃Tell me again how the fly…by…wire system works。〃
〃The aircraft had negative stability；〃 Franks said； hooking his thumbs behind his belt and warming to the subject。 〃Most high…tech tactical aircraft today have negative stability。〃 Jake nodded。
Franks continued。 〃A human cannot fly a negatively stable machine。 It would be like trying to keep a barn door balanced on top of a flagpole。 So puters actually do the flying。 In that way we could build a highly maneuverable aircraft and optimize its low…observable…stealth…features without worrying that we were promising or negating the ability of the pilot to control it。 Now； the way it works is pretty neat。〃
Jake allowed himself a small smile。 All engineers think elegant solutions to technical problems are neat。
〃There are three puters；〃 Harry Franks continued。 〃They each sample the aircraft's attitude and all the other raw data…like air density； temperature； airspeed and so on…forty times a second。 Then they see what control input the pilot has made。 The pilot's control input merely tells the three puters what the pilot wants the plane to do。 The puters then figure out what control throws are necessary to ply with the pilot's order； and they pare their answers。 They take a vote。 Any two puters can overrule the third。 After the vote； the agreed electrical signal is seat to the hydraulic actuators； which move the controls。 This little sequence takes place forty times a second。 You understand？〃
〃Yep； I think so。 But how does the puter know how much to move the controls？ That's what the pilot does in a conventional airplane。〃
〃Well； obviously； the puter has to be told。 So the data that it uses is placed in a Programmable Read…Only Memory； a PROM。 Since it's electrical； we call it an E…PROM。 There are other types； like UV…PROMS and…〃
Jake halted him with his hand。 〃So what you guys did when Rita plained of control sensitivity was to change the E…PROMs？〃
〃Yeah。 Exactly。 They e on chips。 The data is just fried into the little beggars。 We called AeroTech and they cooked us some more and flew 'cm down。 That's all there was to it。〃
〃But the plane crashed。〃
〃Yeah；〃 said Harry Franks defensively； 〃but we don't know yet…〃
〃Something went very wrong。 We know that much；〃 Jake Grafton said。 〃The plane went into three inverted spins。 Rita was trying to get it out and succeeded twice。〃
〃Maybe she…〃
〃Uh…uh。 Nope。 She knew exactly what she was doing。 She recovered from more inverted spins at Test Pilot School than you've even seen。〃
The vice president of AeroTech had a cherubic； round face。 The face looked like it had spent two days in the tropical sun when he faced Jake an hour later and said。 〃I don't know how it happened； but the data is wrong on this chip。〃
〃How's that？〃
He gestured futilely。 〃I mean we've run the data three times； and I don't know how the heck it happened； but the E…PROM data on this chip is just flat wrong。 Look here。〃 He nipped open a thick puter printout 〃See this line here？〃 He read off the number； which was all it was； a number。 〃Now look here。 This is the data on this chip。〃 His finger moved to another puter printout； one Jake had just watched running though the printer。 Jake looked。 It was a different number。
〃How could this happen？ I thought you people checked these things。〃
〃We do check the data。 After the chip is cooked； we check every damn number。 I don't know what…I'm at a loss what to tell you。〃
〃This is only one box；〃 Harry Franks said。 〃There were three of them。 Maybe this is the only one that was defective。〃
〃We'll never know；〃 Jake Grafton said slowly； surveying the faces around him and trying to catalogue their