is,” Ryan confirmed. “All the pax were already in the load manifest. Sorry, skipper.”
The pilots exchanged looks of resigned defeat. Tom could reject any cockpit observer, but in this instance he’d have an awfully hard time explaining that decision to the boss. “Well, that seals it,” he sighed. “But let me know if he gets the slightest bit out of line with you, Marcy. I’ll toss him out like bad catering.”
“I’ll keep an eye on him. Between you two and our passengers, if this job doesn’t work out I could always go run a day-care center,” she said, sliding towards the main door to signal their guest in with a wave. Brimming with enthusiasm, the man in question bounded through the crew entryway.
“Captain Gentry?”
Tom answered with a curt nod. “I understand you want to ride the jumpseat,” he said, looking him over while leading him to the back of the flight deck. “It’s pretty much the same layout as any other cockpit. Sure you wouldn’t be more comfortable out in the cabin? You’ll find it better than even a really nice private jet.”
“Tell you the truth, I’d prefer to kick up my heels back there,” he said, aware he was being sized up. “But my boss is negotiating with your boss to lease one of these beauties for his own use. He wants me to kick the tires and look under the hood.”
Which means Art’s already been talking to this guy , Tom thought. Well, it’s his company . “So you’re aware we’ve filed for a record attempt?” he asked pointedly.
“Sure am. Anything we should be concerned about?” he asked. “Mr. Magrath’s a bit skeptical.”
“He won’t really notice much difference. Acceleration will be about the same, it’ll just last a bit longer. We’re almost empty except for fuel and you folks,” he explained.
“This thing will really go all the way to Singapore in one skip?”
He’d clearly been studying, so Tom decided to indulge him. Might as well find out how much this guy really knew. “Even better—we think we can do it ballistic.”
Kelly whistled. “A single parabola…all the way to Singapore? That’s got to be at least a 400-mile apogee at, what, Mach fifteen? You guys aren’t screwing around.”
Good. He gets it. “Wouldn’t dream of it. It’ll be a great ride, Mr. Kelly.”
“Wade, please. Mom hated ‘Martin’ so she always used my middle name.”
“And the moms usually win, don’t they? Marcy will show you where to stow your gear. We’ll need you to sit tight with her for a few minutes,” he said in parting. “I’ll have our first officer here come take you to watch him preflight.”
Behind him, Ryan pretended to still be absorbed in setting up his controls. “Thanks skipper,” he whispered.
Wade wore a satisfied look as he slipped out of the cockpit. He’d passed muster and was about to get a front-row seat for one whopper of a ride. Earning the crew’s confidence was always the first order of business. He looked at Marcy, attempting to gauge her reaction. “Looks like I get to put my spurs on, huh?”
“Just make sure your seatbelt’s tight and fully fastened, cowboy,” she said through that same tight smile.
9
Denver
The evening air grew chill as the sun’s warming light disappeared behind the mountains. The ramp glowed with a stark pink fluorescence, and its arrival gates were now filled with workers and equipment swarming around the dozen parked Clippers. Ryan and Wade stood on a raised lift beneath the wing of spaceplane number 501, the Austral Clipper.
Ryan took a small metal ruler from his sleeve pocket and clenched a grease pencil between his teeth. He then pulled up the plane’s design specs on his tablet and began measuring panel seams along the hull, making a small “x” on anything that was outside of tolerance. Each would be called in to maintenance for a technician to adjust. Holding his ruler up to another panel edge, he noted the height and continued, occasionally pulling
The pilots exchanged looks of resigned defeat. Tom could reject any cockpit observer, but in this instance he’d have an awfully hard time explaining that decision to the boss. “Well, that seals it,” he sighed. “But let me know if he gets the slightest bit out of line with you, Marcy. I’ll toss him out like bad catering.”
“I’ll keep an eye on him. Between you two and our passengers, if this job doesn’t work out I could always go run a day-care center,” she said, sliding towards the main door to signal their guest in with a wave. Brimming with enthusiasm, the man in question bounded through the crew entryway.
“Captain Gentry?”
Tom answered with a curt nod. “I understand you want to ride the jumpseat,” he said, looking him over while leading him to the back of the flight deck. “It’s pretty much the same layout as any other cockpit. Sure you wouldn’t be more comfortable out in the cabin? You’ll find it better than even a really nice private jet.”
“Tell you the truth, I’d prefer to kick up my heels back there,” he said, aware he was being sized up. “But my boss is negotiating with your boss to lease one of these beauties for his own use. He wants me to kick the tires and look under the hood.”
Which means Art’s already been talking to this guy , Tom thought. Well, it’s his company . “So you’re aware we’ve filed for a record attempt?” he asked pointedly.
“Sure am. Anything we should be concerned about?” he asked. “Mr. Magrath’s a bit skeptical.”
“He won’t really notice much difference. Acceleration will be about the same, it’ll just last a bit longer. We’re almost empty except for fuel and you folks,” he explained.
“This thing will really go all the way to Singapore in one skip?”
He’d clearly been studying, so Tom decided to indulge him. Might as well find out how much this guy really knew. “Even better—we think we can do it ballistic.”
Kelly whistled. “A single parabola…all the way to Singapore? That’s got to be at least a 400-mile apogee at, what, Mach fifteen? You guys aren’t screwing around.”
Good. He gets it. “Wouldn’t dream of it. It’ll be a great ride, Mr. Kelly.”
“Wade, please. Mom hated ‘Martin’ so she always used my middle name.”
“And the moms usually win, don’t they? Marcy will show you where to stow your gear. We’ll need you to sit tight with her for a few minutes,” he said in parting. “I’ll have our first officer here come take you to watch him preflight.”
Behind him, Ryan pretended to still be absorbed in setting up his controls. “Thanks skipper,” he whispered.
Wade wore a satisfied look as he slipped out of the cockpit. He’d passed muster and was about to get a front-row seat for one whopper of a ride. Earning the crew’s confidence was always the first order of business. He looked at Marcy, attempting to gauge her reaction. “Looks like I get to put my spurs on, huh?”
“Just make sure your seatbelt’s tight and fully fastened, cowboy,” she said through that same tight smile.
9
Denver
The evening air grew chill as the sun’s warming light disappeared behind the mountains. The ramp glowed with a stark pink fluorescence, and its arrival gates were now filled with workers and equipment swarming around the dozen parked Clippers. Ryan and Wade stood on a raised lift beneath the wing of spaceplane number 501, the Austral Clipper.
Ryan took a small metal ruler from his sleeve pocket and clenched a grease pencil between his teeth. He then pulled up the plane’s design specs on his tablet and began measuring panel seams along the hull, making a small “x” on anything that was outside of tolerance. Each would be called in to maintenance for a technician to adjust. Holding his ruler up to another panel edge, he noted the height and continued, occasionally pulling
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