CHAPTER IV
A Haircut and a Wink
Rick held the Sky Wagon at the alt.i.tude to which he had been a.s.signed by the control tower at Anacostia Naval Air Station in Washington. He was a little nervous because there was more air traffic around him than he had ever seen before.
Across the Potomac River, so close that the traffic patterns almost interlocked, was busy Washington National Airport. Below him along the Anacostia River were two military airports; Anacostia, at which he would land, and Bolling Air Force Base. And to complicate matters slightly, Andrews Air Force Base was only a short distance away.
A thousand feet above his head a tremendous Air Force Stratocruiser circled patiently. A thousand feet below him a flight of Navy Banshee fighters awaited clearance for landing. And climbing through the pattern came a division of Air Force F-80"s.
Rick"s neck ached from swiveling around. Scotty was helping him watch for other aircraft. But in the rear seat, Hartson Brant and Julius Weiss talked a steady stream, as they had ever since taking off from Spindrift. Rick wished he were as oblivious to the traffic. Actually, he didn"t know what they were talking about. Good as his scientific training was, they were in a realm where his young mind hadn"t even probed.
His earphones gave out: "Tower to Spindrift Flight. You are cleared to land. Approach from Northeast."
Rick glanced down in time to see the Navy fighters peel off in a precision maneuver that was lovely to watch. Then, on their heels, he stood the Sky Wagon up on a wing and slid down toward the muddy river below.
A short time later Rick called for instructions and was told to beach at Ramp Three. He located it without difficulty. Scotty climbed out on the pontoon and caught the rope thrown by a seaman. In a few moments they were beached.
A stocky young man who might have been a government clerk approached and introduced himself as Tom Dodd. The identification folder he held out bore the familiar JANIG imprint. "Steve phoned ahead," he said.
"Do you need anything for your plane?"
"We"d better top off the tank," Rick said. "Everything else is all right." He described the kind of gas his plane used, fearful that the Navy might use either a higher or lower octane that would not be suitable.
Dodd gave instructions to a Navy petty officer, then led the Spindrifters to a waiting sedan. Rick got into the back seat and slumped back between his father and Weiss. The little mathematician looked at him in some alarm.
"Rick! You look done in. What on earth is wrong?"
He smiled feebly. "I"m a sissy, Professor. The only other times I"ve flown into Washington I landed at light-plane airports outside the city. This morning I got right into the middle of the big kids.
Honest, the traffic was worse than Times Square. I was so scared I"d lose position and bang into someone that I almost swiveled my head off."
Tom Dodd looked back and grinned sympathetically. "Don"t feel badly.
Even the commercial pilots sit up straight and keep bright-eyed on the Washington approach. Airwise, it"s one of the most crowded cities in the world."
As Tom steered the big sedan expertly through the traffic en route to downtown Washington, Rick asked his father, "What were you and Professor Weiss talking about? You lost me just about the time we got air-borne."
The scientist shook his head. "This time, Rick, I can"t help much. Ask me again when you"ve completed your undergraduate work in college."
"I"m afraid your father is right," Weiss agreed. "When one gets deeply into the physical sciences there are no longer simple mechanical a.n.a.logies; there are only equations that I"m afraid are beyond you for now, Rick."
Rick sighed. "A lot of help I"m going to be on this project!"
"You"re not supposed to help," his father corrected. "The project is entirely for the purpose of developing principles for the system. The final product will be the equations with which the technologists can begin actual system design. In other words, we are working only on the first theoretical step."
"But the newspaper article said the scientists were affected by a gadget," Scotty objected.
"The article was wrong. Paper covered with mathematical computations can scarcely affect anyone," Hartson Brant said decisively.
Rick stared through the window. The sedan was moving down Const.i.tution Avenue toward 14th Street. "But how did the newspaper find out anything in the first place?"
Dodd swung the sedan around a truck, then shrugged expressively. "We"d like to know. Columnists have their sources of information. Usually the source isn"t close to the inside dope, so most of the columns are pretty inaccurate. A good thing, too, otherwise the enemy would be getting our top-secret information in print all the time. Probably this leak came from someone in the hospital where the team members were taken."
Conversation lapsed until Dodd swung the sedan into a restricted parking place near the corner of 15th and K streets. Then he led the way into an office building. Rick looked around him as they walked to the elevators. It was a typical large office building with an arcade-type lobby. He noticed a haberdashery shop, a barbershop, a florist, a newspaper-tobacco stand, and the entrance to a drug store.
The building directory was loaded with names.
In the elevator, Dodd said, "Four, please."
The Spindrifters were the only ones that got off at that floor. As the door slid closed, Rick saw that a man was seated in an alcove, just out of sight of anyone who got off the elevator. Dodd greeted him, then said, "Remember these faces, Sam."
Sam nodded without speaking.
Dodd led them down a hall. Rick had to satisfy his curiosity. "Is this a government building?"
"No. It"s a regular office building. We leased this floor under the name of a phony corporation. It"s entirely ours, but the rest of the building is occupied by legitimate firms."
"Isn"t that risky?" Weiss asked.
"It depends. If the project is penetrated, then it becomes easier for the enemy in one way, since we don"t have the protection of a government building. On the other hand, the public has free access to all but a few of the government buildings, while we can control who comes in and out of this floor."
"What does "penetrated" mean?" Scotty inquired.
"Known to the enemy."
"But couldn"t you have put the project in the Pentagon, or in the Atomic Energy Commission Building?" Rick pursued.
"Yes, except that it"s top secret, even within the government. I doubt that more than two dozen people even know about it. Remember, the best security is not to let people even suspect that a thing exists."
"But the project has been penetrated," Scotty pointed out.
"We don"t know that. The newspaper article gave no details, remember.
Only that some unidentified scientists had gone insane. No location, no names, no anything of real value. And we have taken precautions.
After all, you have the team chief. Only one man is left, and we hope to get him out of here, too."
Dodd swung open a door that opened into a bare outer office, and led them into an inner room where a man bent over a desk.
Rick knew his name. This was Dr. Humphrey Marks, the reluctant bachelor. All Rick could see for the moment was a bald head. It was completely bald, not even a fringe of hair remaining. It gleamed in the light of the desk lamp. Presently the bald pate revolved back and a truculent face stared up at them.
Dr. Marks looked like a man who had been born impatient. His underslung jaw thrust forward as he demanded, "Well, well? What is this, Dodd? Well? Who are these people?"
Dodd was unperturbed. "Dr. Brant, Dr. Weiss, and Richard Brant and Donald Scott."
Marks harrumphed. He stood erect, and he was scarcely taller than little Julius Weiss. He had a solid, square build and ma.s.sive hands.
"I am honored, gentlemen," he said crisply. "Sit down."
The Spindrifters did so. "We will get to business," Marks stated. "You will forgive me if I begin on an elementary level. It is only for the purpose of defining the problem. Ames said you had been briefed by Miller, so I will confine the briefing to my part of the project."