Card Sharks

I hated Guinan for saying that, though I already suspected it was true. Margaret had told me — confessed is not the word; she might as well have been discussing a change in the weather — that she had slept with three of the four pilots so far.

Dearborn, Mr. Lucky, had been first. 'He made a pass at me five minutes after we'd been introduced. I mean, I was putting a cuff on him — to check his blood pressure — and just like that he had his hand on my thigh.' (I had my hand on her thigh.)

'You were powerless to resist,' I said. 'After all, he is an ace.'

'I'd like to think that was it. I just took his hand away. He couldn't believe it for a moment. Then the next thing I knew I was locking the door and, well … you know.' She blushed.

'Show me.' And she shifted so her head slid down my stomach.

Sampson had been second. 'Dearborn told him about me, then told me he had told Sampson, just to get his reaction. You know, Mike had been sitting in the office outside …'

Except for that drunken night at Pancho's, I would have sworn Sampson was a straight arrow. It was hard to picture him lusting after Margaret, and I said as much. 'That was the whole idea. He's not married, he doesn't have a girlfriend. No one could even remember seeing him with a woman. I think the guys thought he was some kind of freak.'

'Who knows what aces think of each other.'

'Anyway, I noticed he was hanging around the medical office one day for no particular reason. I pretty much teased him into asking me out to dinner.

'It was very sweet. He insisted on picking me up — and he drives some beat-up little foreign car, a Renault, I think. Nothing like any pilot I've ever known — and taking me all the way to Lancaster to some romantic, out of the way little Italian place.'

'The only romantic, out of the way little Italian place in Lancaster.'

'That must be true, because who do you think we saw the moment we sat down? Wilson Rowe.'

'With Mrs. Rowe?'

'Not unless he's married to a twenty-year-old.'

'His daughter.'

She laughed. 'I don't think so.'

I raised myself on one arm, momentarily shocked out of the mood … which was well into the realm of the ridiculous. Here I was, ensconced in the bedroom of a woman not my wife … daring to be disappointed by the idea of Rowe having an affair.

Then, in the time it took for Margaret to place her hand on my chest, forcing me onto my back, I relaxed, embracing it all. We were isolated, working impossible hours in reduced circumstances on what was supposed to be this magnificent adventure. The fact that Margaret had been intimate with the other aces, except for Enloe, made me feel I was part of a select club. After all, the normal rules of behavior no longer applied.

'Sampson,' I said, moving my mouth from one breast to the other. A cool wind had come up. Margaret's nipples were hard as pebbles.

'Let's just say he … surrendered.'

'He's an ace, too, isn't he?'

'Mikey is … intense. I mean, he went on for hours.' She laughed. 'No wonder he doesn't screw very often. He'd kill someone.'

'I must be a hell of a disappointment …'

'Not quite. It kind of scared me.' We rolled over so that I was above her. 'So it was only natural that I would turn to Casey.' She laughed at some private joke, then whispered in my ear. 'I was bad.'

'I'm listening.'

'I was like a dog. I just wanted to fuck him, then get rid of him.' She laughed again. 'Just like a man.'

'I'm hurt.'

'You don't feel hurt.'

I was inside her now. 'All these aces …'

'I never overlap. When I find a new one, the old one is history.'

I lost my ability to speak.

***

We had simulations the weekend of the 30th, so even if I had wanted to drive all the way down to Pasadena, I couldn't have. This left me with some free time to spend with Margaret, but, unfortunately, she was pulling the late shift at the clinic.

About ten o'clock on Saturday night I was dozing on the couch in my room at the BOQ, too tired to function, too lazy to go to bed. 'Have Gun, Will Travel' was on the TV.

There was a knock at the door. Margaret, still in her nurse's uniform. 'Come with me,' she said. It never occurred to me to do anything else.

She was unusually silent — tired, I thought — as we pulled out of the base on our way to Pancho's. But we went right at the gate instead of left. I said, 'If this is a kidnapping, I insist that you have your way with me….'

'All right.'

'Where are we going?'

'It's a surprise.'

Moments later we drove through The NACA facility without stopping. I was disappointed. 'I was sort of hoping you were going to sneak me into the 11A cockpit.'

'This is even better.'

It was still a bit of a drive … out to the Mohave Highway, then east again, finally turning south onto Rich Road. Then, at Leuhman Ridge, she pulled off on a dirt road trail.

'Isn't this the restricted area?' I asked as she got out.

'Yes.' She left the door open, the headlights on, and the radio playing loudly, some hillbilly music out of Bakersfield.

In front of us stood a concrete bunker. Between our car and the bunker was a chain link fence with a padlocked gate. 'I hope we're not supposed to climb.'

She produced a pair of keys. 'Now that shows initiative,' I said.

Moments later we were opening the steel door to Baby's tomb.

The surroundings were unimpressive. This was nothing more than a concrete and steel bunker, the kind originally used to store explosives. A row of bare lightbulbs provided the illumination.

There, in the middle, sat Baby.

I was surprised at how small it was, probably half the size of the X-11A. And where the spaceplane was sleek and winged, Baby looked like a seashell. Its skin was rough to the touch, like that of a shark. I ran my hands over it … almost unable to believe that it had traveled here from another world, another star system.

'Like what you see?'

'Yes,' I said. 'Thank you.' Only then did I turn and look at Margaret. She had slipped out of her uniform and stood there naked and, even in that ghastly light, golden. She glided up to me and brushed her lips against mine.

'You have nothing on,' I said.

'Don't be silly,' she said, unzipping my pants. 'You forgot about the radio….'

We made love right there on Baby.

It was, I suppose, final proof that I was no longer the boy who lived the Tak World novels.

***

On the morning of Tuesday, May 4th — launch minus one day — I arrived at the control center as usual at seven. Margaret had again had late duty at the medical office, so I had spent the night at the BOQ, the better to make my ritual early morning call to Deb and the children. (The more enmeshed I got with Margaret, the more faithful I was about calling. Strangely, I was looking forward to seeing them in as little as a week's time.)

A delta-winged F-106 from the Tomlin test force roared overhead on takeoff, and I stopped to watch it climb into the sun. My ears were still ringing when I heard a man say, 'Beautiful.'