Chapter 552:

"Good boy," Governor Drake said softly. "Now I know this is true. Yes, you will get a lot of support, but for the time being, this is definitely informal. Now please speak up and listen.
"You know the condition of this land. I need your help. Go to the third field; there will be someone waiting for you there. Don't call him \'colon\', he is also a strict informal official today. The sheriff is his The body will reach the Seven Palms in an hour; I hope you are there too, about five thousand feet.
"Tell Colonel Culver what I mean is Mr. Culver-your story; tell him everything you know. If we have to send troops, he will be responsible for the action; if anything, he will provide you private and unofficial The support we don't have.
"Go there now; watch out for the police chief's crowd and see what happens!"
But Smith's parting was his father's words. This is a continuation of the theme they discussed before.
He said: "You can buy it at your own price." "They have the rights to the entire basin. But they have withdrawn; I am not treating them twice."
When he walked out of the room, he added: "If you don't want it yourself, buy it for me."
I
These are two open cockpit planes that Smith found reserved for him. Dual control-the joystick in the front cockpit has a firing handle that can control the slender blue machine gun to fire through the propeller. Behind the rear cockpit, a strange, awkward, double-ended weapon was hidden and simplified into the fuselage. The scout seems very capable of protecting himself in an emergency.
Next to the plane, a tall and slim man in casual clothes was waiting. He stretched out his hand, and the gray eyes on the thin bronze face quickly swept past Smith.
"I'm Culver. I understand that I will be your passenger today. How? Can you pilot this ship? Seven hundred and fifty motors-retractable landing gear. Of course, she hit forty-five at top speed-greedy -Trigger quickly."
Smith shook his head suspiciously. "Forty-five years old, I'm not used to this. But, Mr. Culver, if I jump out and run forward in a hurry, you can stick to it. When you see that I have become accustomed to my own boat and I desperately need time, One special job can complete 500 tasks."
Mr. Culver's slim face smiled. "You are qualified," he said. "But keep your hands away from the dead."
At a glance, he pointed out the heavy, half-hidden weapon Smith had noticed. He explained: "Can't kick, so \'dead\'. This is the new recoilless; it only throws small bullet shells the size of a thumb, but when you hit them you will go to hell."
"Sounds great." Climbed into the rear cockpit and tied the belt. "Tell me how it works, then I won't do it."
One
The pistol took Culver's outstretched hand, and the strange weapon emerged from the cover, as if it were still alive. The pistol grip moved to the side, the gun swung up and down, and the muzzle almost touched the ground. Smith suddenly realized that a crystal on his dashboard was reflecting the mud that was also scorched by the sun. A small black dot stopped in the center of the crystal.
"That's your goal." Culver's voice made the child very proud of having a new toy, but he let go of the grip, and the clumsy gunshot turned smoothly back to the hiding place.
He settled down in the front cockpit. He said: "You will find the helmet there." "It is equipped with a phone; you can tell me all about your crazy nightmares while we are jogging together."
When they talked, the white light beam from the dispatcher tower kept shining on them. Other planes are waiting on the field. He smiled when he put the helmet on his head. He thought: "If we want to conduct a strict informal flight, we will get good service."
He glided past the hangar, where the people in uniform ignored them. He put the ship online in accordance with airline regulations.
"-73" was applied to the low wing of the monoplane, looking like it was scraping the ground. "-73 is clear!" The dispatcher's voice reached Smith's ears. Then, when Smith shot her, the 750-horsepower man let go of his voice.
^
Colonel Culver's possible doubts about Smith's abilities dissipated as they cautiously crossed the free flight zone with less than 5,000 people. Mail planes are everywhere, express and passenger ships take off during the day across the continent, and private jets are scattered in the smaller landing areas amid the flashing lights of the flat-top business district. Among them is Smithy heading towards the green light turning area, where he spiraled upward.
He is ten thousand years old. He set up a gyroscope control device that could steer the spacecraft with more certainty than anyone's hand, and the airspeed indicator climbed to the 450 miles per hour promised by Culver. Only then did he provide details of his "nightmare" to the man in the front cockpit.
When he slowed down to reduce the cruising speed and steered the ship to the distant sage-like sand, he had not yet finished answering the other's incredible question.
Outside the restricted metropolitan area, he has escaped the cold wind, shocking them ten thousand. Behind them, to the right is the gray wall of the mountains. In front of the big bowl in the Tongna Basin he learned, there is a circle of black mountains.
small
Some unreal feelings in his own experience must have sneaked into his mind; unconsciously, he has been questioning his own sanity. Now, seeing the sandy waste that he and Li Bai worked on, the dark slopes of the desolate crater were faintly visible, and a pile of burned debris marked their camp directly below, and its terrible reality caught him again.
He could not speak at first. Five thousand degrees of air is not uncomfortable, but Smith once again felt the baking heat of the desert land. He was in the crater with Li Huai again. Dean called him and warned him.
Before Smith could answer, Culver posed a sharp question twice.
He slid over the jagged edges of the crater without any sinking air currents-if needed, the power of the motor would pull him out of the 10,000-foot vertical climb. Smith was referring to a shiny black rock.
"There," he told Culver. Then he yelled at the telephone transmitter. "It's open," he said. "That's where it fell, it's there! Look, man, there-there!"
Emergency order
The throat of his old volcano was pitch black between gray ashes and gray-red cinder. Apart from it, there are other spots: red, moving objects; metal, sparkling in the desert sun-they disappear in an instant. Smith didn't either, threw the Raiden plane near that place, and didn't know that he had approached the sudden invisible death. The uneven rock is in front. Smith's plane arched over them, roaring in the desert.
"Did you see them?" Smith shouted.
The man in the front cockpit turned to face the pilot. "Smith, I keep saying what I have been thinking about. I am sorry. We have a job. Now let us find a fool sheriff who thinks he is looking for a drunk Indian. We must Warn him."
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