Wind Raker - Book IV of The Order of the Air (23 page)

“You know I will if I can.”

“I’d like to get a look at the coastline from the air. Is there any chance you could take us up on one of your test flights?”

Alma tipped her head to one side, her fair hair stirring in the breeze. “It depends on what part of the coastline you want to look at. The Army isn’t going to like us flying around over their base — security aside, it’d get in the way of their flights.”

“I was thinking more to the west and then north,” Jerry said. “Or back east through the channel, if that would be easier for you.”

“I don’t see why we couldn’t circumnavigate the island,” Alma said. “Maybe finish up with an overflight, if that would be useful? It doesn’t so much matter where we fly right now as that we spend the time in the air.”

“That would be perfect,” Jerry said.

“We’ll have to get permission, but I don’t think it would be an enormous problem.” She smiled past him. “Lewis. How’d you like to take a trip around Oahu?”

“Sure. Are we looking for anything in particular?”

Lewis not only took everything in stride, Jerry thought, he was a hell of a lot brighter than he let on. “Someplace big enough for a Chinese treasure ship to find safe harbor. Though I suspect all we’ll find is beaches and fishermen.”

“Sounds interesting,” Lewis said. “I bet you can see a lot from those side windows."

They made small talk for a little longer, until Stasi returned from putting the girls to bed, and then Jerry excused himself. He stopped in the dining room to pour himself a generous two fingers of scotch — Willi would gladly share — and Jimmy looked out of the doorway to the sleeping porch.

“Excuse me, Dr. Ballard.”

Jerry paused, decanter in one hand, glass in the other, cane hanging awkwardly from his elbow. There were several uncomfortable places this conversation could go. “Yes?”

‘I was wondering… can I come with you to the dig tomorrow, too?”

Jerry set the decanter down, and rested his weight on the cane again, buying time. Jimmy seemed to take the silence as rejection, and slid further into the living room.

“I did just what Clancy — Mr. Gray — said, and I think we found some fishhooks and stuff. And it’s really interesting.”

And it’s not stuck at the house with Stasi and the little kids, Jerry thought. You’d have to be blind and deaf to miss that Jimmy wasn’t exactly happy here, and he and Stasi struck sparks off each other in all the wrong ways. Not that he himself had ever really wanted custody of an eleven-year-old, but — Jimmy really hadn’t been any trouble. He nodded. “If Mrs. Sorley doesn’t need you to help with the other children. Yes, you may.”

“Thank you, Dr. Ballard.” Jimmy darted for the lanai door, and Jerry followed him more slowly, reached the door just in time to see Mitch spin Stasi elegantly out and reel her back again, dipping her in perfect time to the music before they turned on a count of four, bodies tight against each other.

Jimmy’s face was flaming, but he managed to speak up. “Excuse me, Mrs. Sorley?”

The dancers fell apart, and Stasi poked at her hair, looking a bit embarrassed herself. “Yes, darling?”

“I wanted to know if you needed me to help with Douglas and Merilee tomorrow, or if I could go to the dig again with Dr. Ballard.”

A look almost of panic flickered over Stasi’s face, and Mitch said, “Have you asked Dr. Ballard?”

“Yes, sir. He said I could if Mrs. Sorley didn’t need me.”

Stasi looked past Jimmy, her eyes wide in question, and Jerry nodded silently. “Well, all right, darling. But you’re not to be any trouble.”

“I won’t be.”

Mitch cocked his head at that, and Jimmy took a breath.

“I really won’t. Thank you, Mrs. Sorley.”

Jerry turned back to the sideboard to collect his glass, bracing himself for the stairs, and Jimmy came back inside, closing the lanai doors behind him. He ought to say something, Jerry thought, but he wasn’t sure what would help rather than harm.

“I promise I won’t cause trouble,” Jimmy said, his voice ragged, and Jerry nodded.

“I know you won’t,” he said, and started toward the stairs.

I
t took a couple of days to get the flight plan approved, and even then they were discouraged from spending too much time over the naval base, but by the time everything was in order the weather was perfect. The Catalina was moored in the basin outside the hangar, and Alma settled herself in the launch with a feeling of happy anticipation. Mitch and Lewis helped Jerry aboard, and Willi followed, and then at last Lily came hurrying out of the hangar. Alma made the introductions as they pulled away from the dock, and thought Jerry’s expression sharpened. There was no time to ask what that meant, though, as they pulled alongside the Catalina and began hauling themselves and their gear aboard. There was no graceful way for Jerry to make the transfer; Finch’s man gunned the engine, pinning the boat against the fenders that protected the fuselage, and Willi and Lewis caught his arms and dragged him over. He landed on his backside, feet almost in the water, but pulled himself in and got to his feet with a look that dared anyone to comment. He would have bruises, Alma guessed, but he wouldn’t thank her for noticing.

“Right,” she said briskly. “You and Dr. Radke can ride in the navigator’s compartment — that’s just forward, through this hatch. Lewis, cast us off, please. Mitch, you’ll be co-pilot, and Lily will take the engineer’s station as usual. Lewis, you’ll ride the take-off there, too. Once we’re up, Lewis, would you take the radio?”

“I’ll do that,” Lewis answered, and escorted the two professors into the navigation compartment, showing them where they could strap in for take-off.

Alma settled herself into the pilot’s seat, running down the pre-flight checklist that was becoming second nature. Once they were finished, Mitch radioed Hickam Field, and a few minutes later they were taxiing down the long channel, lift gathering under the Catalina’s wings. Alma checked her airspeed and rocked the Cat slightly, using the stepped hull to break the water’s grip on the plane, and the Catalina lumbered into the air. She turned southwest as they climbed, following the coast, and leveled off at two thousand feet, listening to the others on the intercom as she throttled back to an economical cruising speed. They hadn’t had any problems with Lily since that first flight, though they’d had what seemed to be more than their share of minor mechanical glitches, but Alma still wasn’t sure she was willing to leave her entirely unsupervised.

The intercom clicked, and Lewis’s voice spoke in her headset. “I’m back in the radio compartment, and ready to take over communications.”

“Go ahead,” Alma said, not sorry to have that off her plate, and out of the corner of her eye saw Mitch nod in agreement.

There was a moment of silent, nothing but the noise of the engines dulled by her headphones, and then Lewis spoke again. “Ok, Hickam says we’re cleared for the flight plan. There’s not supposed to be anyone else in the area until we come back into the Kaiwi Channel, but then we’ll need to look out for training flights climbing to eight to ten thousand and heading south. Ceiling’s unlimited, winds light — it’s a pretty nice day for flying.”

Alma grinned. It was a perfect day, and perfect for Jerry’s observations, too. “How’s Jerry doing? Are they set up?”

“I’ve put them on channel three,” Lewis answered. “Jerry wants to know if he can ask you to circle back if they see anything good.”

“As long as we don’t see anybody else up here, I don’t think it’ll be a problem.” Alma glanced at her instruments, and then out the side of the cockpit. Visibility over the nose was awkward, thanks to the bow turret. To her left, the ocean stretched glittering to the horizon, the swells flattened to invisibility by their height; to her right, past Mitch, Oahu’s central mountains rose against the sky, the steep ridges barely softened by the brilliant green of the vegetation. A beautiful day, a spectacular sight, and she couldn’t help smiling.

She could see the lighthouse at Barber’s Point, and turned north to follow the coast. Once she was on the new heading, she switched to channel three, and a mix of English and German crackled in her ears.

“
Ja, du sagst
—“

“— not likely until Waimea Bay —“

“Waialua is also possible —“

“The best sites still look to be on the eastern shore.”

They switched back to German then, and Alma sighed, flipping back to the crew channel. “How are we doing, Lily?”

“Everything’s steady here. Oil temperature is optimal, revs right on target.”

“Good,” Alma said. “Good work.” If this flight went well, an hour and a bit traveling clockwise around the island and the same back, they could consider a flight down to the Big Island and back next, and then the open ocean.

“So far, so good,” Mitch said, on the pilots’ channel, and she nodded.

They droned on up the coast, the Catalina steady under them, the surf flashing white on the island’s fringe. The Cat was a good plane, Alma thought, solid and sturdy, and if Floyd could give the interior a proper makeover, it would be ideal for island-hopping. She liked the feel of it, heavy but responsive: a plane you could trust.

The starboard engine coughed, backfired, and she glanced quickly at her instruments, trimming the plane before it could drop a wingtip. “Lily?”

“It’s a problem with the mix again,” Lily answered. She sounded annoyed rather than afraid, and Alma felt herself relax. “I’m going to try to lean it out a little, but —“

The engine backfired again, and Alma winced. “Don’t risk it. We’ve got the fuel load. We’ll just run a little rich.”

“Ok. I’ll re-run the numbers just to be sure.”

“Ok.”

“We’ll be fine,” Lily said, after a moment. “Both tanks are reading half full, and that’s more than enough to take us around and back. It’s just a bit wasteful.”

“I know,” Alma said. But if they didn’t get more flying time, they were going to fall behind on the test schedule. On the other hand, Floyd wasn’t going to be happy paying a third again as much as he’d expected for fuel. “We’ll ride it out today, and I’ll get Finch to go over the chokes again. And the carburetor. Anything else you can think of he should look at?”

“Maybe the floats in the tanks themselves,” Lily said. “I can’t think what else.”

“Right.” Alma reached for her notepad, scribbled herself a note. If everything continued according to plan, they’d be back in Honolulu by one, and that should give Finch enough time to tear down the engines and find the fault in time for them to go up tomorrow afternoon. Republic’s engines were usually reliable; she couldn’t understand why these just weren’t working right.

They reached the Kaena Point lighthouse, and Alma banked gently onto the new heading, running east along the island’s northern coast. Here the waves seemed stronger, a wider belt of white, and where the land turned north toward Kahuku Point, she thought she could see swimmers in the waves. There were certainly fishing boats, riding the steady swell, and further out what looked like a Navy cutter, driving through the waves.

“You want me to take her for a while?” Mitch asked, and Alma nodded.

“Yeah. I’m going back to talk to Jerry. We’re not going to have as much time to circle around over things as I’d thought.”

“I’ve got the controls,” Mitch said.

Alma nodded, and clambered out of the cockpit. In the navigator’s compartment, Lewis had strapped in to the radio operator’s seat. Willi was glued to the small side window, while Jerry sat at the chart table, a map of Oahu spread out in front of him. As she watched, he unplugged his headset and lurched to his feet to join Willi at the window, steadying himself on the other man’s shoulder. Willi shouted something, his voice lost in the drone of the engines. Jerry nodded, and turned back to the table. He started, seeing her, then smiled.

“Everything all right?”

Alma nodded, coming close so that she could shout in his ear. “So far. We’ve got a minor fuel issue, so I wanted to talk to you about what we were doing on the east coast of the island. We’re not going to be able to just turn back and circle on a whim. Can you show me what you want to look at?”

Jerry nodded, turning the map on the table so that she could see. “These are the most likely places.” His finger traced a line from Kahana Bay around the deeper curve that was Kaneohe Bay. “We’re particularly interested in the southern end of the big bay, here, and the point, and then the bay on the far side.”

“What’s your ideal course?” Alma called.

“Here.” Jerry drew a circle that encompassed the point and the bay it sheltered, curving around an island labeled ‘Kapapa.’ “If I had the option, I’d like to circle that a couple of times, then spiral out so we could circle the entire bay. I’d like to do a circle over Kailua Bay, too.”

Alma considered the map. “How about we circle the south part of Kaneohe Bay, here? I can take us down to a thousand feet to give you a good look, and we can stay low around the point and over the second bay — Kailua. Does that work?”

“That’s great,” Jerry answered, and took off his headset. “Listen, Al —“

Even over the noise of the plane, she recognized the note in his voice. “What’s wrong?”

He leaned close, pitching his voice carefully. “Lily — I heard a story about her from Colonel Patton that I think you should know.”

“Go on.”

“He said he’d met Lily in a bar. She was drunk and upset and said she’d been cursed. What she said made him think she knew what she was doing, and she admitted being Brotherhood of the Golden Rose. I think you need to be careful, Al.”

Alma grimaced. That changed things. It was one thing if it were something Lily was doing to herself, but active enmity from a third party was something else entirely. Not that curses were all that common, but it fit far too well with Lewis’s reading, filled in gaps she hadn’t known to look for; it made nasty sense of all the little things that had been going wrong around Lily. And if it was true — if it was true, she probably ought to fire Lily, or at the very least have a good long talk and find out what the woman knew. It was no good bringing malice into the air with them.