“It looks like you’ve really got it made,” said Montgomery. “This is better than anything we dared hope for!” Gunderson nodded without expression. Parker’s voice came on again. “Entering course — autopilot on — throttles maximum —”
The faint beep of the electronic timer signaled the passage of the XB-91 through the first of the radar marker beams. Seconds later, another beep sounded the completion of the ten-mile run. The men in the room waited in silent attention as the timer operator checked his instruments — all except Soren Gunderson. He seemed scarcely interested in what was going on in the room as he sucked meditatively on the pipe.
“Twenty-three eighty-five point seven eight two,” the timer technician announced.
A restrained murmur arose from the executives, engineers, and Air Force men as they turned to each other with pleased smiles. Jacobs, President of Firestone, came back to Gunderson and shook his hand. “It’s a wonderful ship, Soren,” he said. “I’m sure that now we can forget about that other little matter —”
“On the contrary,” said Gunderson. “This is the time. Make my resignation effective as of the moment the Ninety-one is accepted.”
Jacobs’ face clouded. “I hope you don’t mean that. Come up to my office after lunch and we’ll see if we can’t thresh out something.”
“Sure,” said Gunderson. “I’ll come up.”
The group cleared rapidly from the room to watch the landing of the plane. Gunderson and Montgomery remained alone.
“What’s this talk about a resignation?” the major asked. “You’re leaving Firestone and going somewhere else?”
Gunderson stood up and nodded. “Yes, I’m going — somewhere else.”