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Chasing the Arrow. Charles Reid
Читать онлайн.Название Chasing the Arrow
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781554885077
Автор произведения Charles Reid
Издательство Ingram
“Robbie!” Emily called out, shaking her son. “Billy’s downstairs waiting. Why are you so sleepy Saturday mornings lately?”
Robbie woke with a start, rubbing his eyes.
Emily stared at her son, concern furrowing her brow. “Are you sick, Robbie?”
“Sorry, Mom. Don’t worry. I’m fine. I...I think all the bike riding I’ve been doing has really tuckered me out.”
“Hmm... Well, I suppose that might be it. Anyway, you better get moving. I’ll see if I can interest Billy in a bit of breakfast or something.”
“I guess you were up again last night,” Billy said. “Anything more on the plane?”
Billy and Robbie had just skidded their bikes to a standstill by a drink fountain in High Park. Robbie wiped his mouth after quenching his thirst and said, “They’re building their own engine for the plane, and it’s going to fly even faster when they get it.”
“Wow, it’s going to be some kind of fighter. When’s it going to be finished?”
“I don’t know. Sounds like it might be a while yet. The engine could take longer, ’cause they said they have to use an American one in the meantime and that might be a problem, since the Americans changed its design. That means they have to modify the plane so the engine fits.”
“I guess the sooner they get their own engine the better.”
Robbie took another swig of water and swatted a fly. “That’s what one of the men said. C’mon, let’s ride.” Robbie’s last words were drowned out by the roar of an overhead jet.
“Wow!” Billy cried. “I wonder what kind of plane that was.”
Robbie smiled knowingly. “It’s a CF-100 Canuck. And I can tell you for sure, when the CF-105’s ready, it’ll make that plane look like a snail in the sky.”
Four
“After all that blather about missiles replacing fighters, now the Yanks are saying they’re developing a long-range supersonic fighter of their own,” Crawford Gordon said to the CF-105 engineers assembled in his office. “Can you believe it?”
“Where’d you hear that, Crawford?” Jim Floyd asked.
Gordon grinned. “I have my little eyes and ears down there. Take it from me. It’s true. The project is code-named LRIX, Long-Range Interceptor Experimental, so, everyone, if you hear any more about this, let me know.”
“Well, in one way it might make our government a bit more confident about what we’re doing,” Joe Wilkie said.
“Maybe,” Gordon replied thoughtfully, “but it might also scare the devil out of them in case the Yanks get their long-range supersonic plane off the ground first.”
“I think we can expect more heat about our timetable and all sorts of unrealistic demands to speed the project up,” Floyd grumbled.
Gordon thumped his desk. “You can bet on it! Never knew a politician who didn’t have a knee-jerk reaction to everything. Anyway, men...and, Emily, let’s keep things moving as fast as we can. That’s it for today.”
The meeting broke up and everyone headed back to their various offices.
At the next Friday assembly in November at the Carter home, Robbie didn’t hear anything more about the CF-105 that he could understand. Feeling very drowsy, he was thinking of giving up when the next words he heard made him instantly alert.
“Jack, what do you think the Yanks are up to with this LRIX, the new long-range supersonic fighter they’re developing?” Robbie recognized Joe Wilkie’s voice.
“Who knows?” Jack Fowler said. “One thing’s sure, though. They’re bound to have a weight problem no matter what they build, because we have all the titanium supplies locked up.”
“Which means they’ll have to use steel,” added Emily, who had just come in from the kitchen with the sandwiches.
Fowler smiled. “Right you are. And that means weight, which means more power to achieve the same speed as the CF-105.”
“Which brings me back to the same question,” Joe piped up. “What are the Yanks trying to do? Surely they can’t have an engine up their sleeves that’s more powerful than the J-75.”
Fowler grabbed a ham sandwich and said between mouthfuls, “If they have, Joe, they’re hiding it well.”
“Even if they do have one, they must know we have the Iroquois coming online.”
“That’s true, but I guess it all comes down to who’s the farthest ahead,” Fowler said.
“Well, let’s not get too worked up,” Emily interjected. “After all, we’re only speculating.”
Joe sipped his tea before saying, “I think Emily’s right, and in a way, it’s good news because it demonstrates that the threat of everyone suddenly switching to a missile defence is overstated.”
Robbie couldn’t help grinning. He still found it strange and thrilling that it was his mother down there talking with all those experts as an equal.
Five
Robbie was surprised when he didn’t oversleep that Saturday morning. He even startled his mother by appearing in the kitchen fully dressed before she finished making breakfast. Emily turned from the stove and smiled at her son. “You woke up early for a change.”
“I suppose I’m getting used to it.” Robbie’s mother, of course, had no idea he was referring to his late-night listening sessions.
But Emily wasn’t the only one astonished by Robbie’s sudden embrace of early rising. When Billy arrived that morning as usual at Robbie’s house, his jaw dropped and he nearly fell off his bike when he saw his friend already outside, waiting. “Who kicked you out of bed?”
“No one. I guess I just need less sleep.”
“Anything new on the plane?”
“You bet. But let’s ride and I’ll tell you when we get to the park.”
When they arrived at High Park, Robbie led the way into some trees and propped his bike against a big maple. Billy slid onto the crossbar of his bike, leaned forward on the handlebars, and asked, “Now what’s the latest?”
“The Americans are going to build a long-range supersonic jet fighter of their own.”
“So what?”
“Everyone’s puzzled because the Americans were saying a while ago that ballistic missiles made fighters obsolete. So the people at our house last night were trying to figure out what the Americans are up to. My mom says the missile story was obviously a lot of baloney.”
“Boy, what a neat mom you have! She sure is clever.”
Robbie beamed with pride.
“Hey,” Billy said, “I keep forgetting to ask you something. Do you play softball?”
“Sure. Why? Do you play for a team?”
“Just a local one. It’s run by a bloke named Bud. He owns an Esso gas station, and the team’s called the Esso Canucks.” Billy grinned. “Actually I’m not that good. I never even heard of baseball until I came to Canada. But I love playing it. We’re finished this season, of course, but I can get you in for next year if you like.”