Читать книгу Chasing the Arrow - Charles Reid - Страница 7

Robbie wasted several good nights of sleep for the next three Fridays before discovering on the fourth Friday that the meetings obviously only happened once a month. He rubbed his eyes again, trying to stay awake. It was lucky they always had their meetings only on Fridays, or he would have had a hard time getting up for school the next morning. Robbie had been on the landing, listening for close to an hour, but had heard nothing except technical stuff, which probably was the real reason for his sleepiness.

“Think we’re going to stay on schedule with all these alterations for the new engine, Bob?”

Robbie came fully awake when he recognized the voice of Joe Wilkie, a man who had been at the previous Friday get-together.

“It would have been a lot easier if the Pratt & Whitney people hadn’t decided to scrap the J-67 engine in favour of the J-75,” said a chubby man who had been introduced earlier as Bob Jenson, an engine expert. He was slouched in one of the deep armchairs by the fire.

“Of course, but they insist this is a better engine, and I doubt it’s the last time we’ll have to deal with sudden changes,” Joe said.

“It’s a shame we can’t get the Iroquois engine online faster,” Jenson said. “We’d have a much better engine than even this new one and, best of all, we wouldn’t be hogtied to the Americans.”

“Unfortunately we’re a couple of years away from that, and since we’ll have the first plane ready before then, we’ll have to rely on the Americans for a while yet,” said a man Robbie now knew was Jack Fowler.

Gosh, they’re even building their own engine for the plane. I’ll have to tell Billy that for sure, Robbie thought as he crawled back into bed and fell asleep almost instantly.

“Robbie!” Emily called out, shaking her son. “Billy’s downstairs waiting. Why are you so sleepy Saturday mornings lately?”

Robbie woke with a start, rubbing his eyes.

Emily stared at her son, concern furrowing her brow. “Are you sick, Robbie?”

“Sorry, Mom. Don’t worry. I’m fine. I...I think all the bike riding I’ve been doing has really tuckered me out.”

“Hmm... Well, I suppose that might be it. Anyway, you better get moving. I’ll see if I can interest Billy in a bit of breakfast or something.”

“I guess you were up again last night,” Billy said. “Anything more on the plane?”

Billy and Robbie had just skidded their bikes to a standstill by a drink fountain in High Park. Robbie wiped his mouth after quenching his thirst and said, “They’re building their own engine for the plane, and it’s going to fly even faster when they get it.”

“Wow, it’s going to be some kind of fighter. When’s it going to be finished?”

“I don’t know. Sounds like it might be a while yet. The engine could take longer, ’cause they said they have to use an American one in the meantime and that might be a problem, since the Americans changed its design. That means they have to modify the plane so the engine fits.”

“I guess the sooner they get their own engine the better.”

Robbie took another swig of water and swatted a fly. “That’s what one of the men said. C’mon, let’s ride.” Robbie’s last words were drowned out by the roar of an overhead jet.

“Wow!” Billy cried. “I wonder what kind of plane that was.”

Robbie smiled knowingly. “It’s a CF-100 Canuck. And I can tell you for sure, when the CF-105’s ready, it’ll make that plane look like a snail in the sky.”