Chapter 23
Happy as Heather had been to see the snow arrive, she was even happier with the sudden warming that melted it away. Fresh snow was fun and could sometimes get you an extra day off. Old snow made you feel as gray and dirty as it was. Luckily, New Mexico's state symbol wasn’t the sun for nothing.
Work in the Smythe garage continued unabated, although most often now it was just her and Jennifer. She was thrilled with the progress they had made on the project.
First, they had successfully produced an acceptable pair of quantum twin microswitches, something that would have certainly been worthy of a Nobel Prize, if they were at liberty to reveal what they had accomplished.
They had used these in two circuit boards, which converted the signals back and forth between analog and digital. They then added a programmable interface that allowed them to send or receive signals on either end, amplifying the output so that it could be routed through a computer system.
Next they repaired and modified their damaged model airplane, adding a larger fuel tank and a set of solar panels on the tops of the wings and fuselage. Incorporating components from a handheld PDA computer allowed them to program a flight route and provided for control of the onboard camera and microphone.
Lastly they added one of the quantum twin circuits to the receiver-transmitter on the aircraft. The plane could still receive control signals from the ground in the traditional radio way. But it could also be switched to receive commands through the quantum twins—or QTs, as they had started calling them. It could even send video and audio output through the QT circuitry.
They had just successfully sent a combined video and audio signal from the small plane to the ground station, and had recorded the output on Jennifer’s laptop. Admittedly, it was only a picture of the pegboard mounted to the garage wall, along with the sound of their own whooping and clapping as they watched the signal come in, but it was a successful test.
Heather had hoped to have the aircraft ready for its first flight before Sunday, and they had achieved this with a day to spare. Heather had to admit that Jennifer was now a computer sorceress.
“It’s getting late. I guess we’re at a point where we can wrap things up until Sunday afternoon,” said Heather.
Jennifer looked down at the display on her laptop. “You go on. I want to put in a couple of changes to the payload controls before I go to bed.”
“Mark is going to be around to help us with our first flight test on Sunday, right?”
“He says he is. They’re due back from their tournament in Santa Fe late Saturday night. He’ll have to figure out how to unglue the cheerleaders who have been stuck to him. Oh—have you seen the way Colleen Johnson has been draped all over him?”
Heather laughed. “It’s a little hard not to notice. I swear, she has the best pair of boobs money can buy. Mark doesn’t seem to mind.”
“Mind it? I’d say he’s left cloud nine and moved on to cloud ten. Anyway, he promised he’d ditch her for our test on Sunday. As soon as you get back from church, we’re out of here.”
Heather grabbed her jacket and headed for the door. “I’m going with my mom and dad to Albuquerque tomorrow. So I’ll see you on Sunday.”
The weather continued to improve throughout the weekend, resulting in a lovely day of shopping, dinner, and a movie on Saturday and an even better Sunday morning. By the time church was out, Heather was hearing birds that she thought had long since departed for Acapulco or Cancun. Since she, Mark, and Jennifer would be riding their bikes into Los Alamos for the flight test, a nice day would make the ten-mile ride a pleasure.
By the time Heather had pulled her bike from the garage, she found Jennifer and Mark already waiting for her, the airplane packed on Mark’s bike rack. Mark seemed as genuinely excited by the opportunity to try out their project as the girls were.
Pedaling hard, they reached the Western Area Park in record time. Heather had always liked this little park situated near Sullivan Field, but that was not why they had picked it for today's flight. Although it was a bit risky, they had decided to see if the new fuel tank would give them range to get the plane close to the part of the lab where the Rho Project was located.
If it did, they might be able to zoom in a little on some of the buildings in the distance to get a feel for the layout. There were a bunch of signs around the restricted areas of the laboratory warning civilians to stay off and that deadly force was authorized, but it shouldn't hurt to peek over the fence from a model airplane, as long as they didn’t cross that boundary.
In the past this would have been out of the question. The radio control unit would not have had enough range to keep communication with the aircraft as it traveled toward the lab. That was no longer going to be a problem since their communication range was now infinite. Gas was their only limiting factor.
“We ready for launch?” Mark asked. Seeing the thumbs-up from Jennifer, he spun the propeller, bringing the small engine roaring to life.
As he released it, the airplane climbed quickly into the sky. Jennifer made some entries in her PDA handheld computer, uplinking a flight plan that sent the aircraft turning to the southeast. In just a few moments it passed out of sight over the tall pine trees and buildings.
“How’s our data?” Heather asked.
Jennifer fiddled with her computer for several seconds before responding. “Everything looks normal, and I’m showing no loss in signal strength. Of course, you wouldn’t expect any with the QTs, but it’s nice to see it working.”
Mark moved over to look at the video display. “The camera image is great. Damn, we’re good.”
Heather found Mark’s comment slightly irritating since he had done precious little work on the thing.
As the plane got farther away, they could determine its position by looking at the TV picture. It would have been nice to have added a GPS device to the airplane too, but it just couldn’t handle more weight.
“That’s it, turn it south, about a hundred and seventy on the bearing,” Mark said. “There, that’s perfect. Keep it going that way just a couple more minutes.”
Heather leaned forward to look over Mark’s shoulder. “Watch out. We’re coming up on the outer fence. Don’t cross that.”
Mark shook his head. “Hold it steady just a little longer. I want to get a little clearer view of that L-shaped building in the distance.”
Jennifer looked up at Heather. “Heather, tell me when to turn. Mark would have me flying right over it.”
Heather stared at the screen. They should have already turned back, but now she could see what Mark wanted to look at. They were almost in position to look down over the top of the northern wing of the long building.
All at once the camera image spun wildly on the screen.
“What’s happening?” Mark asked.
Jennifer’s fingers played across the PDA. “I can’t control it. It’s going down.”
The image on the screen went dark.
Mark jumped to his feet. “Crap. We crashed it onto the restricted site. Get this stuff packed up. Let’s get out of here before someone comes looking for who was flying it!”
In seconds they had everything back on the bikes and were spinning their wheels back toward White Rock. No one spoke, but a sick feeling had taken hold in Heather’s stomach. Not only had they flown over an area that they weren't supposed to, but they had somehow managed to crash the airplane there. If it was traced back to them, there was no telling what kind of trouble they might be in.
As they reached the Smythe driveway, Mark leaped off his bike cursing. “Damn it. This could get me thrown off the basketball team.”
Jennifer’s eyes were wet with tears. “You idiot! I said keep away from the restricted area. What were you thinking?”
“You were flying the damned thing.”
“But I couldn’t see where it was,” Jennifer moaned. “I was counting on you guys to tell me when to turn it back.”
Heather took a deep breath. It wouldn’t do for her to start crying too. “Maybe they won’t find the plane,” she said. “Even if they do, they probably won’t trace it back to us.”
Mark shook his head, looking deflated. “I wouldn’t bet my ass on that.”
“Anyway,” Heather continued. “We can’t let our folks see us upset.”
Mark bowed his head. “Jen, I’m sorry I yelled at you. It was my fault.”
Jennifer looked up at her brother and gave a weak attempt at a smile. “I’ll be all right. I think I’ll go in and wash up before dinner, though. I’ve had about all the excitement I can handle for today.”
Heather shrugged. “We’ll just have to hope for the best.”
Turning to push her bike back to her garage, Heather felt the weight of the world descend, and the probability equations that danced in her head did nothing to make her feel better.