"Who gave permission for the flight?" Saunders cut in crisply. "Is it routine for your people to fly formations around here without some special alert?"
Martin stiffened slightly. "No sir. It was an unauthorized flight. My idea." He moistened his lips. "We are on twenty-four hours alert, of course—"
"A fat lot of good that would do if every group leader took off when he felt like it," the general sputtered, impaling Martin with eyes like blue icicles.
"We are allowed twelve hours a month flight time," Martin said. "I will admit I didn't file a plan or report my intention to take the group up—but that, sirs, is important in view of what happened." He leaned forward. "I believe—I'm certain, sirs, that we caught—them—off guard." He chewed his lips at the sudden veiled look in Saunders' eyes. It was plain they considered him mentally unhinged.
They waited, saying nothing, their faces as chill and immobile as marble. Martin spread his big, raw-knuckled hands.
"We took off. I flew lead, as usual," Martin began. "We were up to about twenty thousand and climbing when I ordered an attack pattern. We were doing about six hundred ground speed when Ryan, I believe it was, suddenly shouted over the radio, that something had just made a pass at him. We all saw it at once, after that, a round platelike object, about thirty inches in diameter, maybe ten inches thick and the color of buffed aluminum. It moved sort of jerkily, wobbling back and forth and occasionally dancing up and down—almost as though it were attached to a string or something."
The two listeners exchanged glances. It was obvious what they were thinking, but Martin went doggedly on.
"I ordered the men to break formation but to remain at thirty thousand and keep it in sight. I put my ship on auto-pilot—I carry a camera and I wanted to get some shots. I did, about twelve color pix, aiming directly at the thing. I couldn't possibly have missed."
General Brereton snorted and handed the developed prints to Saunders. Saunders examined each one, his brows lifting higher and higher. Finally he handed the pictures to the general and turned to Martin.