Jennifer sat beside Singleton and waited as one of the Norton technicians, a man in coveralls, tightened the shoulder harness around her body. It was one of those harnesses like the stewardesses wore on regular flights. Two green canvas straps came over each shoulder, meeting at the waist. Then there was another wide canvas strap that went across her thighs. Heavy metal buckles clamped it all in place. It looked serious.
The man in coveralls pulled the straps tight, grunting.
"Jeez," Jennifer said. "Does it have to be that tight?'
"Ma'am, you need it as tight as you can stand it," the man said. "If you can breathe, it's too loose. Can you feel the way it is now?'
"Yes," she said.
"That's how you want it when you put it back on. Now here's your release here..." He showed her. "Pull that now."
"Why do I need to know - "
"Case of emergency. Pull it, please."
She pulled the release. The straps sprang away from her body, the pressure released.
"And just do it up again yourself, if you don't mind."
Jennifer put the contraption back together, just as he had done it before. It wasn't difficult. These people made such a fuss about nothing.
"Now tighten it, please, ma'am."
She pulled the straps.
'Tighter."
"If I need it tighter, I'll tighten it later."
"Ma'am," he said, "by the time you realize you need it tighter, it'll be too late. Do it now, please."
Alongside her, Singleton was calmly putting the harness on, cinching it down brutally. The straps dug into Singleton's thighs, pulled hard on her shoulders. Singleton sighed, sat back.
"I believe you ladies are prepared," the man said. "You have a pleasant flight."
He turned, and went out the door. The pilot, that Rawley character, came back from the cockpit, shaking his head.
Chapter 24
"Ladies," he said. "I urge you not to do this." He was looking mostly at Singleton. He almost seemed to be angry at her.
Singleton said, "Fly the plane, Teddy."
"That's your best offer?"
"Best and final."
He disappeared. The intercom clicked. "Prepare to close, please." The doors were closed, clicked shut. Thunk, thank. The air was still cold. Jennifer shivered in her harness.
She looked over her shoulder at the rows of empty seats. Then she looked at Singleton.
Singleton stared straight ahead.
Jennifer heard the whine of the jet engines as they started up, a low moan at first, then rising in pitch. The intercom clicked. She heard the pilot say, 'Tower this is Norton zero one, request clearance for FT station check."
Click. "Roger zero one, taxi across runway two left contact point six."
Click. "Roger, tower."
The plane began to move, rolling forward. Out the windows she saw the sky was lightening. After a few moments, the plane stopped again.
"What are they doing?" Jennifer asked.
"Weighing it," Singleton answered. "They weigh before and after, to guarantee we've simulated flying conditions."
"On some kind of scale?"
"Built into the concrete."
Click. 'Teddy. Need, uh, about two feet more on nose."
Click. "Hangon."
The whine of the engines increased. Jennifer felt the plane inch forward slowly. Then it stopped again.
Click. "Thank you. Got it You're at fifty-seven two seven GW and CO is thirty-two percent MAC. Right where you want to be."
Click. "Bye, guys." Click. 'Tower zero one request clearance for takeoff."
Click. "Cleared runway three contact ground point six three when off the runway."
Click. "Roger."
Then the plane began to roll forward, the engines increasing from a whine to a full deep roar, the sound building until it sounded louder to Jennifer than any engines she had beard before. She felt the thump of me wheels going over the cracks in the runway. And then suddenly they had lifted off, the plane going up, the sky blue out the windows.
Airborne.
Click. "Oh-kay, ladies, we are going to proceed to flight level three seven zero, that's thirty-seven thousand feet, and we are going to circle there between Yuma station and Carstairs, Nevada, for the duration of this excursion. Everybody comfy? If you look to your left, you will see our chase plane coming alongside."
Jennifer looked out and saw a silver jet fighter, glinting in the morning light It was very close to their aircraft, close enough to see the pilot wave. Then suddenly it slid backward.
Click. "Uh, you probably won't see much more of him, he'll be staying high and behind us, out of our wake, the safest place to be. Right now we are coming up on twelve thousand feet, you may want to swallow, Ms. Malone, we're not creeping up like the airlines."
Jennifer swallowed, heard her ears pop loudly. She said, "Why are we going up so fast?"
"He wants to get to altitude quickly, to cold soak the plane."
"Cold soak?"
"At thirty-seven thousand feet, the air temperature is minus fifty degrees. The airplane is warmer than that right now, and different parts will cool off at different rates, but eventually on a long flight - such as a long Pacific crossing - all the parts of the plane will reach that temperature. One of the questions for the IRT is whether the cable rigging behaves differently at cold temperature. Cold soaking means putting the plane up at altitude long enough to cool it down. Then we begin the test"
"How long are we talking?" Jennifer said.
"Standard cold soak is two hours."
"We have to sit here for two hours?"