"Along the Coast," Smitty echoed pensively. "It's significant that they haven't turned their attention to the interior--back as far as the Sierras, here--" "Probably think it's some sort of new Russian reconnaissance aircraft," Morrow interjected. "They undoubtedly have a nice, little reception committee waiting out over the ocean." Smitty nodded. "Any cross-country we plan to do had best be plotted due east, across the desert." "There's the atomic project area, that way," Foster protested. "They certainly must have increased their air defenses around that." "At low altitude, we can get around it," Smitty said. Foster's features went slack. "Look here! You're not seriously thinking of--" "If we had a wind-tunnel, no!" Smitty retorted wryly. "We could stick the little ship in it, let it run for a few days, watch the hull polarize itself to the gravitors' field, and note how the air-flow around the ship was affected. Then we could rip out the jet chamber and design a new one that'd work in the affected air-flow." "_If_ we had a wind-tunnel," Morrow emphasized. "Right!" Smitty turned back toward the ships. "So," he concluded, "we take the big ship! We head out over the desert and keep going, watching how the ship performs and what the air-flow does to her. We'll have to install a few barometric pressure-point indicators around her hull--" "But we'd have to fly several days steady to get that hull completely polarized," Morrow said. "We can't just restrict ourselves to night flying." Smitty winced. Then he rubbed his chin, scowling. "If we have to, Bill, we can go east to Utah, then south through Arizona to Mexico, then east again--flying across the Border at night, without lights, won't be too much trouble; and once in Mexico we won't have to worry about radar. We can go out over the Gulf of Mexico, if we want to, and then turn north and fly up the Mississippi and Ohio valleys as far as Pennsylvania. There's a lot of brush country in the neighboring mountain areas--there'd be little danger of getting seen through there. So long as we don't have to land anywhere, we're safe!" "In other words, it'd be a cross-country endurance flight," Morrow surmised. "But suppose the ship fails on you?" Foster demanded tersely. "Suppose you're forced down?" "We're visitors from outer space!" Smitty replied, grinning. Foster wasn't amused. "Let's not be foolish about this," he argued. "We've got something here that we can't let loose! The world isn't ready for it--" "But we've got to have it perfected when the world _is_ ready," Morrow said firmly. "Once the tension wears out and the world situation changes, we've got to act! If we aren't ready, the world will go right ahead and get mixed up in some other squabble. Then we'd have to wait again." Smitty laid a hand on Foster's shoulder. "You can get a few days off from the plant, can't you?" "What? Well, yes," Foster stammered. "Of course! But--" * * * * *