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A Fine Fix By: Ray C. Noll |
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BY R. C. NOLL [Illustration] Generally speaking, human beings are fine buck passers but there's
one circumstance under which they refuse to pass on responsibility.
If the other fellow says "Your method won't solve the
problem!" then they get mad! Illustrated by van Dongen
The leader climbed sharply in a bank to the left, and the two others
followed close behind. Their jet streams cut off at very near the same
time. Before their speed slowed to stalling, the rotors unfolded from
the canopy hump and beat the air viciously, the steam wisping back in
brief fingers. Under power again, they dipped playfully in tightening circles toward
the plot mottled earth. The fields expanded beneath them, and the leader
brought up and hovered over a farm road whose dust already stirred in
the disturbed air. They settled as one in the rolling dust clouds from which emerged a
coveralled figure who had driven the battered pickup truck to meet them. "Y'sure got back in a rush," he addressed the major, who was just
jumping from the plastiglas cabin. The major nodded and put his attention on seeing that the general
descended safely. He then indicated the farmer. "He's the one," the major said. The general grunted socially. Taking the opening, the farmer said, "Out there in the wheat, general."
His tone carried eager importance. "My kid saw the light come down this
morning feedin' the chickens. I felt the ground jump, too. Called the
sheriff, first off." "All right, you were a hero," said the general shortly. "Now, Grant,
will you take me to it? I can't mess around here all day." The party of six men, two of them technicians, waded into the field from
the road. The farmer remained to watch, frowning. When they had progressed well into the wheat, he shouted after them
ruefully, "And watch where you're steppin', too!" The group paused on the rim of newly gouged earth, clods and dirt that
had splashed from the center of the crater. It was nearly four feet
deep. The man the major had left on guard had uncovered more of the
blackened object, which lay three quarters exposed and showed a warped
but cylindrical shape. "Let's have a counter on it," the general ordered. A technician slid into the crater and swept the metal with his
instrument. The needle swung far over and stuck. To the other technician the general said, "Get a chunk for verification
of the alloy." He kicked a small avalanche of dirt down the crater side
and turned back to the road, adding, "Although I don't know why the
formality. Even a cadet could see that's an atomjet reactor, beat up as
it is." The major absorbed the jibe without comeback. An hour ago he had
informed the general of his indecision over the object's identity,
though he had suspected it to be the reactor. "We may find more when we get it examined in the shop," the general
mused, swishing by the wheat. "But at least we know they do come down
some place, and it wasn't flash fusion. On this one, anyway." "What do you think about instituting a search of this vicinity for other
parts, general?" The officer growled negatively. "Obviously, the reactor was the only
part not vaporized in the fall because of its construction." "That's assuming the ship entered the atmosphere at operational velocity
and not less than free fall," the major qualified. "How can anyone assume free fall? Way outside probability." "Yes, sir, but there are degrees of velocity involved. He could have
used reverse thrust and entered at a relatively slow speed." "All right, all right let's say possible, then. Pull off your search if
you want to. I'm in this thing so deep now, I'll try anything to get
going. I've got Congress ready to investigate, and some senator
yesterday put pressure on to cancel the United Nuclear contract. I'll
try anything at this point, Grant!" The big man's voice had risen to anger, but Major Grant Reis had not
missed the vocal breaking in the last syllables. "I'm First Lieutenant Ashley and I've an appointment to see General
Morrison... Continue reading book >>
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