scoonts.theminotaur-第10部分

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　He　turned　and　walked　back　against　the　flow　of　the　crowd　toward　the　station　exit。　Right　across　the　street　from　the　exit　was　a　Roy　Rogers。　He　paid　for　a　cup　of　coffee　and　found　a　seat　near　the　atrium　window　where　he　could　watch　the　gray　people　bent　against　the　wind　and　the　raindrops　sliding　down　the　glass。
　The　euphoria　he　had　felt　when　he　talked　to　Vice　Admiral　Henry　this　morning　was　pletely　gone。　Now　he　had　a　job。。。　a　paperwork　job；　going　to　endless　meetings　and　listening　to　reports　and　writing　remendations　and　trying　to　keep　from　going　crazy。　A　job　in　the　bureaucracy。　A　staff　job；　the　one　he　had　fought　against；　refused　to　take；　pulled　every　string　to　avoid；　all　these　years。　In　the　puzzle　palace；　the　place　where　good　ideas　go　to　die。
　It　could　have　been　worse；　of　course。　He　could　have　been　assigned　to　design　the　new　officer　fitness　report　form。
　Like　many　officers　who　spent　their　careers　in　operational　billets；　Jake　Grafton　loathed　the　bureaucrats；　held　them　in　a　secret　contempt　which　he　tried　to　suppress　with　varying　degrees　of　success。　In　the　years　since　World　War　II；　the　bureaucracy　had　grown　lush　and　verdant　here　in　Washington。　Every　member　of　Congress　had　twenty　aides。　Every　social　problem　had　a　staff　of　paper　pushers　〃managing〃　it。　The　military　was　just　as　bad。　Joint　mands　with　a　staff　of　a　thousand　to　fifteen　hundred　people　were　mon。
　Perhaps　it　happens　because　we　are　human。　The　people　in　the　military　endlessly　analyze　and　train　for　the　last　war　because　no　one　knows　what　the　next　one　will　be　like。　New　equipment　and　technologies　deepen　the　gloom　which　always　cloaks　the　future。　Yesterday's　warriors　retire　and　new　ones　inherit　the　stars　and　the　offices；　and　so　it　goes　through　generations；　until　at　last　every　office　is　filled　with　men　who　have　never　heard　a　shot　fired　in　anger　or　known　a　single　problem　that　good；　sound　staff　work；　carefully　couched　in　bureaucratese；　could　not　〃manage〃　satisfactorily。　Inevitably　the　gloom　bees　Stygian。　Future　war　bees　a　profound　enigma　that　workaday　admirals　and　generals　and　congressmen　cannot　penetrate。　So　the　staffs　proliferate　as　each　responsible　person　seeks　expert　help　with　his　day…to…day　duties　and　the　insoluble　policy　conundrums。
　Another　war　would　be　necessary　to　teach　the　new　generation　the　ancient　truths。　But　in　the　Pax　Americana　following　World　War　II；　Vietnam　accelerated　the　damage　rather　than　arrested　it。
　In　its　aftermath　Vietnam　appeared　to　many　as　the　first　inadvertent；　incautious　step　toward　the　nuclear　inferno　that　would　destroy　life　on　this　planet。　Frightened　by　the　new　technologies　and　fearful　of　the　inprehensible　political　forces　at　work　throughout　the　world；　citizens　and　soldiers　sought…demanded…quantifiable　truths　and　controls　that　would　prevent　the　war　that　had　bee　unthinkable；　the　future　war　that　had　bee；　for　the　generations　that　had　known　only　peace；　the　ultimate　obscenity。　Laws　and　regulations　and　inprehensible　organizational　charts　multiplied　like　bacteria　in　a　petri　dish。　Engineers　with　pocket　calculators　became　soothsayers　to　the　terrified。
　All　of　this　Jake　Grafton　knew；　and　knowing　it；　was　powerless　to　change。　And　now　he　was　one　of　them；　one　of　the　faceless　savants　charged　with　creating　salvation　on　his　desk　and　placing　it　in　the　out　basket。
　Over　on　the　beach　it　was　probably　raining　like　this。　The　wind　would　be　moaning　around　the　house　and　leaking　around　the　windowpanes。　The　surf　would　be　pounding　on　the　sand。　It　would　be　a　great　evening　for　a　walk　along　the　beach　under　a　gray　sky；　by　that　gray　sea。　Suddenly　he　felt　an　overpowering　longing　to　feel　the　wind　in　his　hair　and　the　salt　air　in　his　nostrils。
　Oh；　to　be　there　and　not　here！　Not　here　with　the　problems　and　the　hassles　and　the　responsibilities。
　His　eye　fell　upon　the　bag　that　the　clerk　had　placed　the　F…I17　model　in。　He　ripped　out　the　staple　and　slid　the　box　from　the　bag。　The　artist　had　painted　the　plane　black。　It　had　twin　vertical　stabilizers；　slanted　in　at　the　bottom；　and　flat　sides　all　over　the　place；　all　of　which　he　suspected　were　devilishly　expensive　to　manufacture。　The　intakes　were　on　top　of　the　fuselage；　behind　the　canopy。　How　would　the　engines　get　air　when　the　pilot　was　pulling　Gs；　maneuvering？　He　stared　at　the　picture。　No　doubt　this　plane　was　fly…by…wire　with　a　flight　control　puter　stabilizing　the　machine　and　automatically　trimming。　But　what　would　it　feel　like　to　fly　it？　What　would　be　the　weight　and　performance　penalty　to　get　this　thing　aboard　ship？　How　much　were　they　going　to　cost？　Could　these　machines　ever　be　worth　the　astronomical　sums　the　manufacturers　would　want　to　charge？　The　politicians　would　decide。
　Jake　drained　his　coffee　and　threw　the　cup　in　the　trash　can　by　the　door。　He　pulled　the　bag　up　over　the　box　and　rolled　the　excess　tightly；　then　pushed　the　door　open　and　stepped　out　into　the　evening。
　〃Hi；　darling；〃　Callie　said　brightly　when　she　came　home　and　found　Jake　assembling　the　model　on　the　kitchen　table。
　〃Hey；　beautiful。〃　Jake　looked　up　and　grinned　at　her；　then　resumed　his　chore　of　gluing　the　landing　gear　into　the　wheel　wells。
　〃So　how　was　the　first　day　back　at　the　office？〃
　Jake　laid　the　plastic　model　on　the　diagram　and　leaned　back　in　his　chair。　He　stretched。　〃Okay；　I　guess。　They　didn't　tie　me　to　the　wooden　post　where　they　shoot　traitors；　and　nobody　said　anything　about　a　court…martial；　so　I　guess　I'm　still　in　the　navy。〃　He　winked　at　her。　〃It's　going　to　be　all　right。　Don't　sweat　it。〃
　She　poured　a　cup　of　coffee　and　blew　across　it　gently；　then　took　an　experimental　sip。　She　stood　looking　at　him　over　the　rim　of　the　cup。　〃Where　will　you　be　working？〃
　〃It's　a　little　shop；　some　cubbyhole　that　belongs　to　NAVAIR。　I'll　be　working　on　the　new　Advanced　Tactical　Aircraft。〃
　〃Oh；　Jake。〃　She　took　the　seat　beside　him。　〃That's　terrific。〃　For　the　first　time　in　months；　her　voice　carried　genuine　enthusiasm。
　〃That's　about　all　I　can　tell　you。　The　project　is　classified　up　the　wazoo。　But　it's　a　real　job　and　it　needs　doing；　which　is　a　lot　more　than　you　can　say　for　a　lot　of　the　jobs　they　have　over　there。〃
　He　shouldn't　have　added　that　last　phrase。　The　muscles　around　her　eyes　tightened　as　she　caught　the　edge　in　his　voice。　〃After　all　you've　done　for　the　navy；　they　owed　you　a　good　job。〃
　〃Hey；　Callie；　it　doesn't　work　like　that。　You　get　paid　twice　a　mouth　and　that's　all　they　owe　you。　But　this　is　a　navy　job　and　Lord　knows　how　it'll　all　turn　out。〃　Perhaps　he　could　repair　the　damage。　〃I'd　rather　have　a　navy　job　than　be　president　of　a　bank。　You　know　me；　Callie。〃
　Her　lips　twisted　into　a　lopsided　smile。　〃Yes；　I　guess　I　do。〃　She　put　her　cup　on　the　coffee　table　and　stood。
　Uh…oh！　Here　we　go　again！　Jake　took　out　his　shirttail　and　used　it　to　clean　his　glasses　as　she　walked　into　the　kitchen。　You'd　better　be　cool　now；　he　decided。　Help　her　along。　He　called　out；　〃What　say　we　go　get　some　dinner？　I'm　hungry。　How　about　you？〃
　
　4
　
　The　ringing　of　the　telephone　woke　Jake　Grafton。　As　he　groped　for　the　receiver　on　the　stand　by　the　bed　he　blinked　mightily　to　make　out　the　luminous　hands　of　the　alarm　dock：　5　A。M。　〃Grafton。〃
　〃Good　morning；　Captain。　Admiral　Henry。　I　wanted　to　catch　you　before　you　got　started　this　morning。〃
　〃You　did；　sir。〃
　〃How　about　meeting　on　the　steps　of　the　Lincoln　Memorial　about　oh…seven…hundred　in　civilian　clothes。〃
　〃Aye　aye；　sir。〃
　〃Thanks。〃　The　connection　broke。
　〃Who　was　that？〃　Callie　asked　as　Jake　cradled　the　phone　and　loosed　his　eyes。　The　alarm　wouldn't　ring　for　half　an　hour。
　〃One　of　my　many　bosses。〃
　〃Oh；〃　she　mattered。　In　less　than　a　minute　be　heard　her　breathing　deepen　with　sleep。　He　wondered　what　Tyler　Henry　wanted　to　talk　about　that　couldn't　be　said　at　the　office。　After　five　minutes　he　gave　up　trying　to　sleep　and　got　out　of　bed。　He　tiptoed　for　the　bathroom。
　By　the　time　the　alarm　went　off　he　had　showered　and　shaved。　He　had　picked　out　dark　gray　slacks　and　a　tong…sleeved　3W　shirt。　Over　this　he　had　added　a　tie；　an　old　sweater　and　a　blazer。
　〃Good　morning；〃　he　said　as　he　pushed　the　lever　in　on　the　back　of　the　clock　to　silence　it。
　〃e　hug　me。〃　She　smelled　of　warm　woman　and　sleep。　〃It's　so　nice　having　you　here　to　give　me　my　morning　hug。〃　She　pushed　him　back　so　she　could　see　his　face。
　〃I　love　you；　woman。〃　He　cradled　her　head　in　his　hand