by Nevil Shute
He nodded. “Yes, we’d better do that. Will you get in touch with him, Scott?”
We stood talking over details for a few minutes. Then I said, “There’s just one more thing, sir. I got a note in Ottawa from Captain Samuelson, the pilot of the Reindeer, asking me not to broadcast the fact that he’d dropped that note from Honey to us. It seems that he went a long way out of his course without telling the Organisation anything about it, and he’d rather like to keep it dark.” I grinned. “If Sir David Moon had seen him assing about down among the tree-tops in the middle of Labrador, he’d have had twins.”
“I see ...”
“I spoke to Russell and Group-Captain Porter,” I said. “They won’t let it out from Ottawa.”
The Director said slowly, “I think it might be rather a good thing to gloss over all the automatic writing side of this business.” I smiled. “After all, you went out to find and to examine this wreckage, and you found it, and you examined it. That’s all that matters to anybody. I’m quite sure the Foreign Office would very much object to any publicity about the Russian element.”
“And we should very much object to any publicity about planchette,” I said.
“Exactly,” he replied. “Until that type of research becomes one of the regular activities of this Establishment, which I hope won’t be in my time, the less said about it the better.”
I nodded. “I should think so, sir.” I turned towards the door. “Everything has been all right in my party while I’ve been away, I hope?”
He said, “So far as I know.” He glanced down at his desk. “There’s a new job coming on. They’re having trouble with the Assegai.”
“They were bound to do that,” I said. The Assegai was one of the jet interceptor fighters coming into squadron use. For rapid climb it had the new Boreas engine; in level flight at over thirty thousand feet it was probably capable of exceeding the speed of sound. Because the forces on the structure were still very much a matter of guesswork in the trans-sonic range, its speed in level flight was supposed to be limited to Mach .90. People who knew the fighter pilots said from the start that those young men would never pay attention to that sort of restriction, and they hadn’t.
“They lost one of them about a month ago,” the Director said, “and then they lost another one last week. All with structural failure of the wing. Then the day before yesterday they lost a third, but this time the pilot got out safely with his parachute. Apparently he was looking out along the wing and saw the whole thing happen. He says he saw a line of light along the leading edge before it broke.”
I stared at him. “A line of light?”
“That’s what he says he saw. It seems he’s very positive about it.”
I was dumbfounded. “But what could cause that?”
He smiled. “I don’t know, Scott. That’s what we’ve got to find out.”
I said ruefully, “Well, that’s a new one.”
“I said that it had better wait till you came back,” the Director said. “They’ll send the pilot here to see you and tell you the whole story in his own words, as soon as you like. Who would you put on it?”
“Morrison,” I said. “It’s right up his street.”
He nodded. “I think so. The only thing is, Morrison is having trouble — oh, that’s since you went away. His wife has got T.B.; she’s got to go into a sanatorium. I think that you may have some difficulty in getting any useful work out of him for a month or so.”
“I’m very sorry to hear about Mrs. Morrison,” I said. “I’ll have a talk with him. He’s certainly the man who ought to handle anything like this.”
I went back to my office. My desk was piled high with dockets and papers that had come in during my absence, waiting for my attention. I told Miss Learoyd to put them all on the side table, and I rang down for Mr. Honey, and asked him if he would come up and see me. When he came I told him all about it, the success of his fatigue estimate and the success of his automatic writing. He did not seem very greatly interested in either, except technically; success did not thrill him in the least. He regarded a success merely as a convenient platform from which to plan a further advance.
He was, however, viciously pleased at the effect the news would have on Prendergast. “These ignorant fools in the design offices,” he said angrily, “they don’t know what they’re doing, half the time. They come down here and strut about, and treat you like so much dirt. If only they’d pay some attention to the people who know something about the job, they wouldn’t have these accidents.”
He displayed a characteristic reaction to the news that the entire British Transatlantic service would be suspended for an indefinite time by the grounding of the Reindeer fleet. He asked if we could get hold of the tailplanes of two of the grounded aircraft for further experiments. It seemed a golden opportunity to him. “If they can’t fly they won’t want their tailplanes,” he pointed out. “It really would be a great assistance if we could carry through a complete research on tailplanes of one type.”
He was deeply grateful to Shirley and to me for the little we had done for Elspeth. “I don’t know what to say to thank you,” he muttered. “If Mrs. Scott hadn’t come round that morning and found her, I — I don’t know what would have happened.”
“Forget about it,” I said gently. “You’d have done the same for us. But Honey, if you don’t mind my saying so, you ought to make some arrangements that Elspeth isn’t left alone quite so much. It’s taking a bit of a risk.”
“I know it is,” he replied. “As a matter of fact ...” and then he stopped. He began again. “I’ve got somebody staying with me now, for a little while. I do agree with you, it’s very bad for Elspeth being so much alone.”
“It’s none of my business,” I said. “But it’s a bit hard on the kid.”
He said ingenuously, “I’m very hopeful that I’ll be able to do something before long.”
I thought of Marjorie Corder, and kept my face as straight as a judge. “That’s fine.”
They rang through from the Metallurgical Section a few minutes after that and said that my crate was there, and they were opening it. I rang the Director, and we all went down together to inspect the bits that I had brought back with me from Labrador. There was a little surface corrosion as one might expect from parts that had been lying for some months in thawing snow, but there was general agreement that the evidence was absolutely clear. I went back to my office and rang up Prendergast.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Prendergast,” I said. “This is Scott speaking. Yes, this morning. Oh yes, thank you — not quite a holiday, you know, but very interesting, all the same. Look, Mr. Prendergast — I’m sorry to say that we found a very definite fatigue fracture. I brought the parts back with me — yes, I cut the spars beyond the fractures and brought the fractures back. They’re here now, if you’d like to come down and see them.” And I told him where the fractures were.
He said, “Really? How very, very interesting. I should very much like to see those pieces.” He spoke very pleasantly; I was amazed. He went on to discuss the repetitive stresses on the tail for a little; he was cordial, benign, and considerate. “I had a most interesting visit to your department while you were away,” he said. “Mr. Honey showed me the research that you have going on. I was very much impressed.”
So had Mr. Honey been, but I would not tell him that. I said, “I’m very sorry about the Reindeer, Mr. Prendergast. I’m afraid this is bound to mean that all those aircraft will be grounded now at seven hundred and twenty hours.”
He said genially, “Oh well, worse things happen at sea. I expect we shall get over it, one way or another.”
Well, that was one way of looking at it. I wondered if Sir David Moon would take it quite so philosophically when he was told that all his Reindeers were going to be grounded for an indefinite period, but that was none of my business. I talked to Prendergast for a few minutes more, and the extraordinary man was as smooth as silk, when I had expected him to b
e as a raging demon. I put the telephone down, wondering if I should ever understand designers.
It was five o’clock, and I was very tired. I had to start something going on the Assegai before I could relax, and I rang through to Mr. Morrison. After some delay the girl answered the call. She said that Mr. Morrison wasn’t in the office; he had not been in that day. His wife was very ill; he had taken her to the sanatorium at Bognor Regis. No, she didn’t know if he was coming in tomorrow.
The Assegai, it seemed, was going to be my baby.
I had a wife; I had not seen her for ten days and about nine thousand miles. I rang up Shirley at our flat and said, “Darling, I’m back.”
She said, “Oh Dennis, dear. Where are you now? In the office?”
“That’s right. Will you come and fetch me with the car? I’ve done all that I’m going to do.”
She came, and we drove home together to the flat, and mixed a drink. Everything was strangely as I knew it; it was curious to think of all that I had seen and done since I had been home last. We had a vast amount to talk about; I had to tell her what had gone on in Canada and she had to tell me what had gone on in Mr. Honey’s little house in Copse Road. “I crossed over in the same machine as Monica Teasdale,” I said. “We had a long talk in the middle of the night.”
“That poor woman,” she said softly. “I did like her. Was she very much cut up, Dennis?”
“I think she was,” I said. “It’s hard to tell with an American, especially an actress like that. You can’t tell if she’s putting on an act.”
She was silent for a minute. “I can’t help thinking about her,” she said at last. “She was awfully fond of him, you know. I think it was heroic of her, to go away like that. Do you think we’ll ever see her again, Dennis?”
“No,” I said, “I don’t think so. Only on the screen.” I rubbed my wrists and hands; they were itching again like fire.
Shirley said, “Dennis, come and let me put something on those bites. I’ve got some cream that will soothe them.” We went into the bedroom and she put it on for me, and then she said, “What about our holiday, Dennis? You really must take one this year; you’re looking awfully tired. The Reindeer must be just about cleaned up, isn’t it? Couldn’t we go away now, before anything else crops up?”
I grinned at her. “Too late,” I said. “It’s cropped.” And I told her about the Assegai.
“Oh Dennis! Someone else must deal with that. You can’t go on for ever without a holiday.”
“I’ll have to hold the fort till Morrison gets back,” I said. “I don’t suppose that’ll be so long. I’m seeing the pilot in a day or two.” I stared out of the window of our little bedroom. “I can’t make out why there should be a light,” I said. “It doesn’t make sense.”
She laid her hand upon my arm. “Forget about it now,” she said gently.
I roused myself to talk of matters that were more up Shirley’s street. “How’s Marjorie Corder getting on with Honey?”
“Oh, she’s a dear. You know, I wouldn’t be surprised if they got married.”
“So they ruddy well ought to,” I replied. “From what you tell me they’ve been living in sin for the last week.”
She turned on me. “Oh Dennis, they haven’t! Mr. Honey wouldn’t know how.”
“Don’t you be too sure about that,” I said. “Are they engaged?”
“I don’t think so,” she said. “Not yet. But her leave’s up at the end of the week. Perhaps they will be then.”
As a matter of fact, they got engaged that night. Mr. Honey went back to his little house that evening anxious to justify himself in Marjorie’s eyes. What she had said about his treatment of Elspeth had made a deep impression on him. He regarded her as a woman of the world and more knowledgeable than he; somebody who travelled repeatedly to Canada and the United States and liked it. He had a deep respect for her. Curiously, she seemed to have a deep respect for him, and in this she was unusual; most people treated him with very little respect. He did not want to lose her regard.
He went into the kitchen and beamed at her through his thick glasses. “Dr. Scott’s come back,” he said. “The message we sent got to him all right. Captain Samuelson flew over and dropped it.”
Her face lit up. “Oh Theo, I am glad. Was it any good?”
“Yes it was. There’s a lake there called Dancing Bear and they found the tailplane just south of its foot.”
“Theo! So it was under the foot of the Bear, after all?”
He nodded. “I knew it must be something like that. It was just the same with the aqueduct. You couldn’t understand the message till you’d thought about it for a bit. But in this case, of course, we hadn’t got the data. We didn’t know there was a lake called that.”
“It’s wonderful!” she exclaimed. There was a light of admiration in her eyes that he could not mistake.
He coloured a little. “Well,” he said diffidently, “it just comes of proceeding in the proper scientific manner. So many people start off right, but then when they come up against something they don’t understand, they turn round and say the whole research was started on wrong lines. But I am glad this turned out to be useful, because of Elspeth.” He looked at her appealingly. “You don’t really think it did her any harm, do you?”
She laid her hand impulsively upon his arm. “Of course not, Theo — don’t worry about that. We must find her and tell her — she’ll be thrilled!”
He said, “Do you think that’s wise?”
She stared at him. “But don’t you want to tell her?”
He blinked at her through his glasses. “Well, what do you think, Marjorie? Won’t it impress it on her mind? I thought you wanted to forget all about that sort of thing.”
“Wouldn’t you tell her at all?” she said thoughtfully. “Just forget about it?”
“Well, yes — I think I would. After all, it’s not important any longer. Tell her in some years’ time, when she’s a bit older. She hasn’t talked about it again, has she?”
The girl shook her head. “That’s very sweet of you, Theo,” she said soberly. “You really are the kindest man I’ve ever met.”
He coloured; it was a long time since anyone had said that sort of thing to him. “There’s another thing,” he said unsteadily. “It was a fatigue fracture.”
“Oh Theo! So you were right in that, too?”
He blinked. “I thought it must have been. It’s really very satisfactory, because it adds another trial without wasting our time, if you understand. This trial that I’m doing at the R.A.E. becomes a confirmatory experiment — it means that we’re about six months further ahead than we thought we were. If this one confirms the results of the first, the Labrador accident, we really will be on a firm foundation, so that we can go ahead with confidence.”
She did not understand what all that meant, but it was evidently something very near his heart, and so she said, “How splendid!”
He beamed at her. “It’s really very satisfactory,” he repeated. “I think we’re on the way to getting something useful now.”
She thought for a minute, and then asked, “Theo, what’s going to happen to the Reindeer if it gets fatigue like this? Can they go on using it?”
“The Reindeer? Oh — you mean the machines they’re using now. They’ve got to stop, I think. Dr. Scott said something about grounding them all. I think he said they could go on to 720 hours — that’s half the estimated time to failure.”
“Oh ...” With her knowledge of the Organisation she tried to visualise how the Montreal and New York services could be run without any Reindeers, and failed. “I suppose they aren’t safe any longer.”
“I should think they’d be all right up to 720 hours,” he said. “But after that they ought to stop. I think Dr. Scott’s quite right in that.”
She said slowly, “Then the one at Gander must have been very dangerous, Theo.”
He laughed, almost boyishly; his success and her approval had lifted years
of care and grief and worry off his shoulders. “You know, I think it was. I’m rather surprised we got across all right, really I am. It did 1,430 hours, that one, without breaking. The only thing is, Dr. Scott says the Canadians are quite certain that fatigue fractures are governed by the temperature, that they come sooner when it’s cold. That’s one of the parameters I haven’t dealt with yet, that and the question of electrical conductivity. It might possibly explain why that one didn’t break, because it had been operating in the tropics, you see. There’s a whole field to explore,” he said enthusiastically. “All sorts of things.” He was like a little boy let loose in a toy shop, uncertain which of the attractive treasures to pick up first.
Marjorie said, “If you hadn’t pulled up its undercarriage, Theo, I should have gone on flying in it. And I should have been killed, like Betty Sherwood and Jean Davenport.”
He stared at her dumbly, blinking in distress at the idea.
She said thoughtfully, “I wonder how many lives you’ve saved, Theo? How many people are now living who would be dead by now, or just about to die, but for your courage and your genius?”
He blinked at her in silence. Much more important to him at that moment was the curve of her throat as it slid into her dress, and a small curl of hair beside her ear.
“You’re a great man, Theo,” she said quietly. “This was all your doing. But for your work and your devotion other Reindeers would have crashed and other people would have been killed — hundreds, perhaps. Captain Samuelson would have been killed, as Captain Ward was killed. I should have died, as Betty and Jean died. I happen to know about it, so does Captain Samuelson. The passengers, who would have died but for your courage and your work, they’ll never know. But I can speak for them. Thank you, Theo, for all that you’ve done for them, and for their wives, and for their children.”
Mr. Honey was never a very articulate man. He just put his arm round her shoulders and kissed her. As Marjorie put it to Shirley, that kind of broke the ice. By the time Elspeth, who was reading Arthur Ransome lying on her bed upstairs, awoke to the fact that she was hungry and came down to see what was happening about tea, her father was engaged to Marjorie Corder. Elspeth, who had been expecting that to happen for some time, thought it was a very good idea.