EMERGENCE by Palmer David

Author:Palmer, David [Palmer, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-05-28T16:26:24+00:00

Have gone through Mount Palomar facilities with great care. Nothing about contents to suggest AAs' presence in recent past. But sweep not entirely unproductive: Found Cal-Tech staff directory in one office—containing name, address of Tarzan File AA living in Pasadena! Will follow up on that tomorrow morning, unless . . .

Posterity, you simply won't believe what Adam did today. Remember bundle of tubing, cloth, traveling on trailer roof? Well, found out what it is.

I had complained, following search of observatory, that if AAs' secret rendezvous only hundred yards off road, would never find it in densely wooded, mountainous terrain. Suggested we track down U. S. Geological Service and Forest Service section maps; uncouple trailer, explore logging roads in van alone. Might turn up something.

Adam agreed in principle, but said had better idea—and did . . . !

Whereupon, removed mysterious bundle from trailer roof and, in space of probably 30 minutes, unfolded, unrolled, then assembled airplane—full-sized, man-carrying, aluminum-tubing-and-fabric ultralight. Disappeared briefly into trailer; emerged carrying breadbox-sized, metal-bound wooden case from which took miniature engine, propeller, snapped into place.

"Another benefit of growing up rich and neglected." Eyes twinkled as mixed gas, oil; filled tank. " 'Mom, all the other kids have ultralights this summer!' It was an election year, you see; she didn't have time to check into the story—which was true . . ." continued impishly, squirming past fuselage tubes, settling into pilot's seat; fastening five-point harness; strapping on helmet; checking control surface movement as wiggled stick, pedals, " . . . depending on what neighborhood you canvassed and what numbers you considered a representative sample."

Yanked on pull-cord; engine snarled into life with literally deafening racket (started life as two-stroke motorcycle engine; Adam, per usual practice, modified for additional power, reliability; replaced muffler with "tuned" megaphone exhaust—result sounded like steroid-fed chainsaw). I jammed fingers in ears. Tora-chan dived under trailer; nothing showed but two orange-glowing spots of outrage. Terry's reaction, on other hand, surprisingly mild: Merely flapped wings to indicate disapproval—usually that much noise inspires feather-head to go for help.

"Actually," Adam yelled, pulling down goggles, "I think she thought an ultralight was about three feet long and flown by radio-control." With which he rammed throttle to stop, pulled back stick, accelerated to about human running speed, lifted gently from parking lot, soared out over Cleveland National Forestlands, leaving me standing wide-eyed, chin resting on toes.

Managed to follow part of flight with binoculars: Brightly colored midge visible for many miles from catwalk encircling 200-inch reflector's dome. Adam checked every logging road, cowpath, nature trail within 25-mile radius of observatory. Looked especially closely for indications of isolated structures—facilities not accessible by road, or whose construction and/or placement suggested attempted concealment.

Gone three hours, but eventually floated lightly from sky, touching down at walking pace, gently as falling leaf. Killed engine, removed helmet.

"If they're out there, they're well hidden," he shouted into silence; then added more softly, "Am I talking too loudly? I usually do after flying this. You're supposed to use acoustical earplugs, but I always forget.

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