"How good was their ship? Could it have been a guided missile?"
"No, sir. No guided missile. Whoever drove that ship was right on board.
And that ship was good. It could climb as fast as we could dive, and no
human could have taken the accelerations and the turns it made. Whoever
drove it learned fast, too. He was clumsy at the beginning, but he
learned. If we hadn't gotten in a lucky hit, he'd've had us where he
wanted us in a little while more. Our fifty-calibres just bounced off
that hull!"
The loud-speaker said curtly: "If that impression is justified, that's
the first business to be taken up. All but flying officers are excused.
Mr. Coburn can go, too."
There was a stirring everywhere in the room. Officers got up and walked
out. Coburn stood. The Greek general came over to him and patted him on
the shoulder, beaming. Janice went out with him. They arrived on the
carrier's deck. This was the very earliest hour of dawn, and the
conference had turned abruptly to a discussion of arms and tactics as
soon as Washington realized that its planes were inadequate for
fighting. Which was logical enough, but Coburn was pretty sure it was
useless.
"If anybody else in the world feels as futile as I do," said Coburn
bitterly, "I feel sorry for him!"