Free Death Dream by Ben Bova Page B

often puzzling, you know."
    "Thanks," Appleton repeated.
    Martinez got up grudgingly and shook the physician's hand also. Once Narlikar had left the tiny office, the colonel stared at the closed door as he grumbled, "About as much help as a box of Kleenex."
    Appleton sank back into his creaking swivel chair. "Oh, I don't know. In a situation like this, Ralph, a negative report can be almost as helpful as a positive one."
    "What's that supposed to mean?" Martinez fished a cigarette pack from his shirt pocket as he sat down again.
    Reaching for his pipe, Appleton said, "Safety regulations forced us to shut down the simulation until we come up with a definite reason for Jerry's death, right?"
    "And after three weeks of investigation all that Narlikar and his needle-pushers can tell us is that Jerry died of a stroke. Which we knew two hours after it happened."
    "Okay," said Appleton. "What Narlikar is telling us is that the simulation probably didn't have anything to do with Jerry's stroke."
    "Probably."
    "You've been over the tapes. Do you see anything that could've killed Jerry?"
    "It was a rough mission," Martinez said, lighting his cigarette with a disposable Bic. "We piled it on him. We were trying to see how realistic we could make the sim, remember?"
    Appleton looked into the colonel's steady brown eyes. Not a flicker of remorse. If he feels any responsibility for making the simulation too realistic he certainly isn't showing it , Appleton thought.
    "Well then," he said aloud, "if we're both convinced that the simulation had nothing to do with Jerry's death, we can recommend to the safety board that we resume our program."
    "Uh-huh."
    "Do you see any reason to keep it shut down?"
    Martinez hesitated. He had been a flier all his adult life. He had seen men killed in stupid accidents, killed by the weather and by enemy action. Flying always had some element of danger in it and military flying was the most dangerous of all. You had to be able to fly at night and in bad weather and in situations where a sane pilot would stay on the ground. You had to be able to face missiles and guns and enemy pilots who maybe were just as good as you were. Maybe. That was the biggest risk of all, and the biggest kick. Man to man, pilot to pilot, who's going to win? Who's going to die?
    Appleton's a civilian, Martinez told himself. The doc's a good guy but he's a civilian. Not even a pilot. He flies a desk. He's a scientist. What does he know about how the adrenaline jolts through you when you see a bogie on your six? Maybe he can read numbers off a page, but he's never felt the real thing, the real blast that goes through you when you wax some bastard's tail and knock him out of the sky. How could he? The only flying he's ever done has been as a passenger.
    For long moments the two men sat looking at each other, their thoughts spinning. Maybe I made the sim too tough, Martinez admitted silently. But dammit, it's got to be tough. I can't send kids out into combat situations without making their training as tough and as realistic as it can be. Civilians don't understand. Every time one of my kids climbs into a cockpit and straps that plane onto his back he's putting his life on the line. I want them to be ready, to know what it's like, to have as much experience as we can jam into their skulls. And that means the most realistic simulations we can get these scientists to produce.
    Maybe it killed Jerry. Maybe it did. And maybe Jerry would have killed himself the next time he took a real plane up.
    "Do you see any reason to keep the simulation shut down?" Appleton repeated.
    Martinez realized what was bothering him. "What if the program was deliberately tampered with?"
    Appleton's Pale blue eyes widened. "We had that Russian here, remember? The exchange guy: Yevshenko."
    "Yuri?" Appleton's voice nearly cracked. "Ralph, surely you don't think—"
    "I know the cold war's over and we're all lovey-dovey with the Russians and trying to help them become