“It’s unusual, that’s all.”
“We’re half the population. And unusual isn’t impossible. I wanted to do more than peel spuds and have babies.”
He waited for her to ask more about him, but she didn’t, so he plunged on. “It’s a long way from Nebraska to the Chinese air force.”
Beth looked at him directly this time, over the rim of her teacup. “You are educated. So, okay. I’m a tomboy, a runaway, and a mercenary. And the weather’s better.”
“Everywhere’s better than Nebraska.”
“And the money’s good.”
“Yes, your wealth is apparent.”
She chewed. “You haven’t seen my closet full of shoes.”
He smiled at the joke. Progress.
“I also get to work for a woman.”
“Madame Chiang?”
“Remarkable, isn’t she?”
“Forceful. And so are you, Miss Calloway. You’ve flown me five hundred miles and haven’t strayed off course once.”
“How would you know? Besides, I was following the Yangtze.”
“That shows wisdom right there.”
“You don’t need to flatter me, Mr. Hood. I’m not impressed by your museum, your money, your conversation, or your skill at killing helpless animals. I’m far too tired to want to sleep with you, and too well read to expect anything you say to be particularly enlightening. You’re an assignment.”
“You flatter me. I thought I was a mere chore.” Yes, progress. She’d volunteered more than one sentence in a row.
“The leg to Chengdu is two hundred miles shorter, but you’ll excuse me for going to bed. I’m guessing you’d rather have me alert tomorrow. And I’m sure you can fascinate yourself.” She stood.
Hood remained seated. “Do something by myself, anyway.” He threw her a few gold coins. “For the first leg of the trip.”
She didn’t pick them up. “We leave at dawn.”
T hey went on at six A.M., the plane bouncing as they slowly climbed west. It was another long, cramped day, and after landing at Chengdu and refueling, Hood wearily sat with his back against the tail of the plane, watching the sun go down in a haze of fire behind the mountains to the west. He’d stuffed cotton in his ears beneath his helmet for the flight, but they still rang from the long hours in the air.
Calloway had been her usual laconic self upon landing, wordlessly directing coolies to gas up the plane and checking an engine that ticked as it cooled. Most people got to Hood’s family and money sooner rather than later, but she’d shown no interest in either. She was professional, guarded, and working hard to be unimpressed. Hood considered that a sign of character, but still.
Beth finally wiped her hands with a rag and stood in front of him. “Are you just going to lean on my plane, or find us a place to sleep?”
“I’m postponing the inevitable. There are more fleas inside than out.”
“I think you’re sulking because I broke your scotch.”
He looked up at her, squinting against the late glare of the sun. “And I think you were showing off by breaking it.”
She bit her lip. “So were you, by bringing it. I knew what it cost.”
He looked back down across the airfield. Pretty women had the luxury of being annoying, and she was managing to annoy him. Pepsodent my ass. “Sorry to have offended you.”
Beth suddenly looked hesitant and abruptly walked around the plane again, thrumming the wire wing supports for tension. Then she plopped next to him on the grass. “Look, it was stupid.”
He studied her, the girl too tough to ever risk being hurt. “You don’t allow yourself to enjoy much, do you?”
“I don’t allow myself to be disappointed. It’s a fault.” She shook out her curls to loosen them from the packing of the helmet. Of course she didn’t go so far as to actually look at him or offer a pleasantry. That would be too polite.
But she didn’t move away, either. They both had goggle rings around their eyes, like raccoons.
She stared at the sky, too.
“I never knew riding could be so tiring,” Hood finally tried again.
Silence.
“I’m still vibrating from the engine. It doesn’t go away.”
More quiet. Then, “Ready to walk, college boy?”
“Why do you call me that? I’m a specimen collector, not an intellectual. You already claimed you’re a reader as well, though damned if I’ve noticed any evidence of it.”
“I was reciting Thucydides all day. You just couldn’t hear over the engine.”
“Baloney. I’ll bet the only thing you’ve ever read is Ladies’ Home Journal and engine manuals.”
“ Ladies’ Home Journal! ” She barked a laugh. Then she finally looked at him to recite, proud as a schoolgirl. “ The secret of happiness is freedom. The secret of freedom is courage. Thucydides said that.”
“ E Pluribus Unum. A nickel says that. See? We’re both eggheads.”
She finally laughed. “Out of many, one.”
“But you’re the lonely aviatrix.”
“I just rely on myself.”
“And you’re free.”
“To a point.”
“And courageous.”
“To a point.”
“And contemptuous of any man who isn’t you.”
She seemed warily interested in his assessment. “Women, too.”
“I’ve never sat home counting stock coupons, which I could afford to do.” He knew he sounded defensive. “I’m paying my own way on a mission for my government. I’m in the middle of nowhere, going to find a man I’d just as soon forget. It takes courage to fly in a plane like yours, with a pilot like you, in a place like this, but I don’t feel free at all.”
“Or happy?”
“The best I’ve managed is to be amused.”
“So what the devil are you doing here, Dr. Hood?” She was cross-legged and leaned forward a little, curious now.
“It’s secret, of course.” He could think of no better way to irritate her.
“To save the world,” she guessed. “It’s got to be something important to fly to the end of the earth.”
“Why do you care?”
“You’ve taken me with you. It only seems I’m taking you.”
He plucked at the grass, recognizing the truth of that. He considered how to answer her. “All anyone ever manages is to save themselves-I know that. But give me credit for doing what I can. The fact is, the luck of my birth embarrasses me. I envy ordinary people.”
“Then you’re a fool.”
“People are happier being ordinary.”
“Nonsense. You’re the kind of man who does everything he can to keep from being ordinary. I’ve seen your type in China a hundred times. Terrified of being bored. Deliberately eccentric to fit the adventure stereotype. Achievement as penance.”
“Penance for what?”
“You tell me.”
“For being envied by people like you.” He looked square at her as he said it.
That stopped her for a moment. Then she nodded. “So tell me, Dr. Benjamin Grayson Hood. What are you
