By Proxy

by Randall Garrett

condition. It was,in fact, sold without the engines. Is that correct?"

  "Correct."

  "May I ask if you still own the machine in question?"

  Porter gave the man a look that accused Granby of being stupid or blindor both. He pointed to the hulking fuselage of the giant aircraft."There it is."

  Granby and Feldstein both turned to look at it as though they had nevernoticed it before. "Ah, yes," Granby said, turning back. "Well, that'sabout all there is to it." He looked at his partner. "It's obvious thatthere's no violation here, eh, Feldstein?"

  "Quite," said Feldstein in a staccato voice.

  "Violation?" Porter asked. "What violation?"

  "Well, nothing, really," Granby said, deprecatingly. "Just routine, as Isaid. People have been known to buy aircraft as scrap and then repairthem and re-outfit them."

  "Is that illegal?" Porter asked.

  "No, no," said Granby hastily. "Of course not. But any ship sore-outfitted and repaired must pass CAA inspection before it can leavethe ground, you understand. So we keep an eye on such transactions tomake sure that the law isn't violated."

  "After three years?" Porter asked blandly.

  "Well ... ah ... well ... you know how it is," Granby said nervously."These things take time. Sometimes ... due to ... clerical error, weoverlook a case now and then." He glanced at his partner, then quicklylooked back at Porter.

  "As a matter of fact, Mr. Porter," Feldstein said in a flat, cold voice,"in view of your record, we felt that the investigation at this time wasadvisable. You bought a scrap missile and used it illegally. You canhardly blame us for looking into this matter."

  "No," said Porter. He had transferred his level gaze to the taller ofthe two men, since it had suddenly become evident that Feldstein, notGranby, was the stronger of the two.

  "However," Feldstein went on, "I'm glad to see that we have no cause foralarm. You're obviously not fitting that up as an aircraft. By theway--just out of curiosity--what _are_ you doing with it?" He turnedaround to look at the big fuselage again.

  Porter sighed. "I had intended to hold off on this for a few days, but Imight as well let the cat out now. I intend to take off in that shipthis week end."

  * * * * *

  Granby's eyes opened wide, and Feldstein spun around as though someonehad jabbed him with a needle. "_What?_"

  Porter simply repeated what he had said. "I had intended to makeapplication to the Space Force for permission to test it," he added.

  Feldstein looked at him blankly for a moment.

  Then: "The _Space_ Force? Mr. Porter, civilian aircraft come under thejurisdiction of the CAA."

  "How's he going to fly it?" Granby asked. "No engines, no wings, nocontrol surfaces. It's silly."

  "Rocket motors in the rear, of course," said Feldstein. "He's convertedthe thing into a rocket."

  "But the tail is closed," Granby objected. "There's no rocket orifice."

  "Dummy cover, I imagine," Feldstein said. "Right, Mr. Porter?"

  "Wrong," said Porter angrily. "The motive power is supplied by amechanism of my own devising! It has nothing to do with rockets! It's assuperior to rocket power as the electric motor is to the steam engine!"

  Feldstein and Granby glanced at each other, and an almost identicalexpression of superior smugness grew over their features. Feldsteinlooked back at Porter and said, "Mr. Porter, I assure you that itdoesn't matter what you're using to lift that thing. You could be usingdynamite for all I care. The law says that it can't leave the groundunless it's airworthy. Without wings or control surfaces, it isobviously not airworthy. If it is not a rocket device, then it comesunder the jurisdiction of the Civil Aeronautics Authority, and if youtry to take off without our permission, you'll go to jail.

  "If it _is_ a rocket device, then it will be up to the Space Force toinspect it before take-off to make sure it is not dangerous.

  "I might remind you, Mr. Porter, that you are on parole. You still havethree years to serve on your last conviction. I wouldn't play aroundwith rockets any more if I were you."

  Porter blew up. "Listen, you! I'm not going to be pushed around by youor anyone else! I know better than you do what Alcatraz is like, and I'mnot going back there if I can help it. This country is stillConstitutionally a democracy, not a bureaucracy, and I'm going to see toit that I get to exercise my rights!

  "I've invented something that's as radically new as ... as ... as theLaw of Gravity was in the Seventeenth Century! And I'm going to getrecognition for it, understand me?" He gestured furiously toward thefuselage of the old _Supernova_. "That ship is not only airworthy, but_space_worthy! And it's a thousand times safer and a thousand timesbetter than any rocket will ever be!

  "For your information, Mister Smug-Face, I've already flown her!"

  Porter stopped, took a deep breath, compressed his lips, and then said,in a lower, somewhat calmer tone, "Know what she'll do? That baby willhang in the air just like your aircar, there--and without benefit ofthose outmoded, power-wasting blower fans, too.

  "Now, understand me, Mr. Feldstein: I'm not going to break any lawsunless I have to. You and all your bureaucrat friends will have a chanceto give me an O.K. on this test. But I warn you, brother--_I'm going totake that ship up!_"

  * * * * *

  Feldstein's jaw muscles had tightened at Porter's tone when he began,but he had relaxed by the time the millionaire had finished, and waseven managing to look smugly tolerant. Elshawe had thumbed the button onhis minirecorder when the conversation had begun, and he was chucklingmentally at the thought of what was going down on the thin,magnetite-impregnated, plastic thread that was hissing past therecording head.

  Feldstein said: "Mr. Porter, we came here to remind you of the law,nothing more. If you intend to abide by the law, fine and dandy. If not,you'll go back to prison.

  "That ship is not airworthy, and--"

  "How do you know it isn't?" Porter roared.

  "By inspection, Mr. Porter; by inspection." Feldstein lookedexasperated. "We have certain standards to go by, and an aircraftwithout wings or control surfaces simply doesn't come up to thosestandards, that's all. Even a rocket has to have stabilizing fins." Hepaused and zipped open his briefcase.

  "In view of your attitude," he said, pulling out a paper, "I'm afraid Ishall have to take official steps. This is to notify you that theaircraft in question has been inspected and found to be not airworthy.Since--"

  "Wait a minute!" Porter snapped. "Who are you to say so? How would youknow?"

  "I happen to be an officer of the CAA," said Feldstein, obviously tryingto control his temper. "I also happen to be a graduate aeronauticalengineer. If you wish, I will give the ... the ... aircraft a thoroughinspection, inside and out, and--"

  "Oh, no!" said Porter. His voice and his manner had suddenly become verygentle. "I don't think that would do much good, do you?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean that you'd condemn the ship, no matter what you found inside.You couldn't O.K. a ship without airfoils, could you?"

  "Of course not," said Feldstein, "that's obvious, in the face of--"

  "All right, then give me the notification and forget the rest of theinspection." Porter held out his hand.

  Feldstein hesitated. "Well, now, without a complete inspection--"

  Again Porter interrupted. "You're not going to get a completeinspection, Buster," he said with a wolfish grin. "Either serve thatpaper or get off my back."

  Feldstein slammed the paper into Porter's hand. "That's your officialnotification! If necessary, Mr. Porter, we will be back with a Federalmarshal! Good day, Mr. Porter. Let's go, Granby."

  The two of them marched back to their aircar and climbed inside. The carlifted with a roar of blowers and headed back over the mountains towardAlbuquerque.

  But long before they were out of sight over the ridge, Malcom Porter hadturned on his heel and started back toward the cluster of buildings. Hewas swearing vilely in
a rumbling monotone, and had apparently forgottenall about Elshawe.

  The reporter followed in silence for a dozen paces, then he asked:"What's your next step, Mr. Porter?"

  Porter came to an abrupt stop, turned, and looked at Elshawe. "I'm goingto phone General Fitzsimmons in Washington! I'm--" He stopped, scowling."No, I guess I'd better phone my lawyer first. I'll