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.She needed to brief him, but they were fast running out of time.Outside was a group of environmental campaigners with placards.They had been gathering since early that morning, eager to join in the public debate later in the afternoon.Some of them wore T-shirts from old Fragile Earth campaigns.Good for you, thought Bel.Others carried placards.She saw: WHAT REALLY CAUSED THE OZONE LAYER HOLE? And STOP SECRET US EXPERIMENTS.That one must be from the mysterious Oz Protectors who had leafleted Jonny Cale that morning.If she got time before the public debate, she’d go and chat to them and find out what their issues were.Bel looked at her watch.In fact, if the major didn’t hurry up and come back, maybe she’d haul the campaigners in to take his place.When she looked back at the door, the campaigners’ placards had moved.Before, they had been spread out in a line; now they were bunched together around something, and there was shouting.The conference centre security guard pulled open the door and went outside.Curious, Bel followed him.Before she even got as far as the door, the guard was coming back.He had a sheltering arm around Major Kurtis and was barging protestors out of the way as he escorted him back into the foyer.‘What happened to you?’ said Bel.‘The rent-a-mob guys collared me.’ The major had an Oz Protectors leaflet in his hand.He crumpled it into a ball and dropped it into the rubbish bin.‘They see the uniform and they all think the worst.’Bel folded her arms.‘Well, that’s not entirely surprising, is it? The United States has the worst record on green issues.These people protest because they care, and thank God they do.’‘I’m not arguing with that,’ said the major, still clearly rattled by his encounter with the protestors.‘But not every bad thing that happens in the world is the fault of the US, you know.’Bel stepped aside to let a group of delegates go through into the auditorium.‘Time’s getting on, we need to talk about this debate.We’ve had to change the other speaker … Ah, here he is.’ She waved, and a figure walking down the stairs waved back and started walking towards them.‘Dr Yamanouchi?’The elderly man in a rumpled corduroy suit, his black hair threaded with grey, was about to greet Bel when his eyes opened wide with surprise.‘Brad Kurtis.I didn’t recognize you at first.’‘Dr Yamanouchi,’ replied the major.‘How are you?’‘Do you two know each other?’ said Bel.‘Dr Yamanouchi was my tutor at Harvard,’ replied the major.The doctor looked at the major again, shaking his head.‘You know, the last thing I would have expected was to see you in a military uniform.’The major gave Dr Yamanouchi a broad Texan smile.‘It’s not what I imagined myself doing twenty years ago, but it’s worked out quite well.’‘Don’t tell me you’re a soldier,’ said the doctor.‘You must have sold them one of your vastly impractical schemes.’Bel was interested.‘His schemes?’Major Kurtis smoothed his hand over his cropped hair.‘My strength was theoretical research.Whereas Dr Yamanouchi thought I should be finding new ways to analyse rainfall.’‘Yes, I still remember Brad going on about weather control.He talked about nothing else for months.You had your head in the clouds in those days.’Major Kurtis gave a forced laugh.‘Well, at least I’ve moved on from that.Those corduroy trousers look like the same ones you used to wear twenty years ago.’Bel put her hands up to call for silence.‘Time out, guys.Save it for in there.If you two argue like that on the stage we’re going to have a great debate.Let’s get this show on the road.’As Bel shepherded them into the auditorium, she heard a rapping noise on the window outside.She turned and saw one of the campaigners waving.He pressed a placard up against the window and rapped on the glass again, as if trying to reinforce its message:STOP SECRET US EXPERIMENTS.Chapter SevenBen was up in the microlight again.Down below were the gentle hills and valleys of the vineyards.Kelly had planned a flight path that steered well clear of the fire area.And Ben had control.Kelly’s voice came through on his headset.‘Let’s practise those turns.Remember, don’t just use the stick, use the pedals as well.Don’t turn too sharply because you’ll lose airspeed.Feel what the craft is doing by watching your horizon.’Ben executed a flawless turn.The horizon barely tilted.‘Very good,’ said Kelly.‘Now try the other way.’Ben had a little think about what each hand and leg had to do, then turned the craft expertly left.Whatever Kelly might say, it wasn’t that different from flight sims on the PC.‘Always make sure you come back to level after you’ve turned; don’t just assume you have.We try to keep the plane as level as possible.Now tell me your height.’She certainly was giving him a thorough lesson.Ben took a moment to locate the altimeter.‘Eleven hundred feet.’‘That’s getting a bit low
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