each time he hit it wouldn't shock him. He beat on
the fabric repeatedly, and each impact was punctuated
with that same hollow thud. Then he took
the fabric off the frame, folded it, and stuck it in his
shirt pocket.
"That's . . . that's unbelievable!" someone in
the audience gasped. "Amazing!"
"The applications for BERP are unlimited," Masters
said. "I thought about all the possible military
uses of the process-protecting vehicles, making
punctureproof tires, making bulletproof tents, even
creating portable roads resistant to land mines. But
there is one use for it that has always stuck in my
head: enhancing flight safety for the general public
by strengthening the cargo compartments of airliners
to protect against terrorist bombs or any other
catastrophic explosion destroying an aircraft, such
as the fuel tank explosion that brought down TWA
Flight 800 a while back. just a few hundred pounds
of BERP and its control equipment per airplane-far
less weight and cost than lining an airplane or cargo
containers with Kevlar or other armor material
can save hundreds of lives."
"Now how is this possible, Dr. Masters?" Fenton
asked incredulously. "That can't possibly be strong
enough to protect against a bomb blast or a fuel
tank explosion!"
"Glad you said that, Ed," Masters said. "That's
why I'm here talking to you on the satellite videoconference
from the Aerojet rocket-testing site near
Sacramento today-a satellite videoconference, by
the way, provided by Sky Masters, Inc.'s NIRTSat
small tactical communications and reconnaissance
satellite technology specifically for this demonstration
." Jon was never above plugging his own products
. "I'm in the first-class section of a surplus
Boeing 727 airliner fuselage." The shot of Masters
changed to an overhead shot of the Boeing 727, minus
its wings and engines. "Located within this fuselage
are three suitcases loaded with fifty pounds
of TNT apiece. One is -inside the cockpit in a large
Rollaboard suitcase, such as the flight crew might
carry on board; another is located directly underneath
the first-class compartment in the cargo hold;
and the third is located underneath the coach-class
compartment in the baggage space.
"I've placed my BERP material in two places in
the plane." The camera shot changed agami, revealing
an interior view of the plane's forward cargo
compartment. The only baggage in the compartment
was a lone crate marked DANGER IRGH EXPLOswEs
. In the background, illuminated by spotlights,
the gray BERP fabric could be seen clearly. "First,
I've lined the cargo compartment directly below the
first-class section with exactly eighty-three pounds
of BERP."
The camera shot changed again, this time to the
airliner's cockpit. Except for removed avionics and
upholstery stripped off the seat frames, it looked
like an average cockpit. A wheeled suitcase marked
DANGER mGH ExiPLosrvEs sat between the pilot's and
copilot's seats. "Second, I took off the headliners in
the cockpit and lined the fuselage there with fortyone
pounds of BERP, then replaced the headliners. I
also put some BERP in the cockpit door leading out
to the galley. In addition, I sandwiched some of the
BERP fibers into the Lexan cockpit windows on the
copilot's side of the cockpit, but not on the pilot's
side. This darkens the windows slightly, equivalent
to number one ultraviolet tinting. Tinting is not
currently allowable on cockpit windscreens in the
U.S., but maybe when you see this, the rules can be
modified a little."
The camera changed back to a shot of Masters,
amazingly still sitting in his seat. "I also made a
curtain of BERP material between the coach- and
first-class sections of the plane. There is no BERP
anywhere else on the plane. I'm leaving the coach
section unprotected just to show the kind of damage
we're talking about, and also just because I like to
see things blow up." Masters paused, grinning like a
kid at the zoo, then put on a set of headphones. "I
will now detonate all three crates of explosives,
starting with the cockpit. Here we go . . ."
"What!" Fenton and several of the others
shouted almost in unison. "Are you crazy, Masters?
Do you actually plan on blowing up that plane with
you inside it? Get the hell out of that plane, right
now! . . . "
But the screen had changed to four separate
shots: The upper half of the screen showed the overhead
satellite view of the airliner; on the lower half,
one shot showed Masters in the first-class section;
one showed the cargo compartment underneath the
first-class section of the plane; and a third showed a
shot of the cockpit from outside, right from the
nose of the airliner looking through the copilot's
windscreen. Masters waved once to the camera and
held up a box with three large red switchguards on
it.
"Is he serious, Dr. Kaddiri?" Fenton asked. Kaddiri
didn't know how to respond. They could very
well be watching Jonathan Colin Masters's last day
on earth, and she was powerless to stop him. "Is he
going to
As if in response, Masters lifted the first red
switchguard, gave a last jovial "Fire in the hole,
folks!" and pressed the button underneath. The entire
audience leaped to its feet in shock as the images
unfolded before them.
The cockpit was the first to go. It erupted with a
bright yellow fireball, but amazingly only the pilot's
windows blew out, sending a shaft of fire and smoke
sideways out of the plane-the copilot's windows
crazed into white spiderwebs but did not break. In
the first-class section, Masters jumped in surprise,
but there was no other hint that fifty pounds of
TNT, enough to bring down a small building, had
just exploded less than thirty feet in front of him.
"I'm fine! I'm fine!" he shouted gleefully. "Perfectly
all right! That was a fifty-pound TNT explosion
just a few feet away from me, and I'm fineV/
The airline executives looked relieved and angry at
the same time-relieved that he was all right, and
angry that they had been forced to watch such a
suicidal display.
"Washington, Washington, this is Range Control
," an excited voice cut in on the closed secure
link. "Helen, I'm picking up a power surge in the
BERP circuits. I've set the explosives continuity circuits
to safe. Jon, if you can hear me, you better get
out of the plane now. That surge could cause the
rest of the BERP to malfunction-it could even set
off the other explosives."
Jon touched his earset so he could hear better
through t
he ringing aftermath of the explosion that
had erupted right in front of him. "Negativi he
shouted. "Don't safe those circuits! I'm all right!
We can continue the
A second later, seen from the overhead satellite
view, the entire aft section of the airliner heaved
and flopped awkwardly into the air, the cargo section
completely blasting apart before it was obscured
by smoke and debris. Masters never touched
the detonate button-and if he had, it would have
had no effect because the range safety officer had
terminated the test and disconnected all detonation
power from both the arming switch and the explosives
. But the surge of energy in the BERP material
had discharged through the cabin, grounding on the
nearest available object-the fifty-pound case of
TNT. The electrical discharge was enough to bypass
the safety interlocks, set off the electrically actuated
blasting caps, and detonate the TNT.
Masters was thrown back into his seat as the entire
interior of the aircraft rocked forward from the
concussion, the deck jerked upward as it buckled,
and a new gust of smoke forced its way into
the first-class section-but again, Masters was unharmed
. The entire aft two-thirds of the Boeing 727
was either in pieces or lying crumpled and twisted
on the ground, but the forward third was intact.
More smoke rushed into the first-class cabin. Helen
noticed with horror that the large ventilators designed
to keep the air clear had malfunctioned. The
surge of power caused by the BERP system had
shorted out the ventilators.
"Jon! Can you hear me!" Kaddiri shouted. The
airline executives were watching in horror as smoke
partially obscured their view of the interior of the
first-class cabin inside the test article. "The ventilators
have failed! Get out! Range Safety Control, get
Masters out now!"
Inside the test plane, Masters jumped again as a
third explosion ripped into the plane. The camera
shot of the cargo compartment under the first-class
section disappeared in a blinding flash of yellow.
This time Masters really seemed scared. They could
see his eyes bugging out with the first hint of concern
and worry about whether this stunt was really
a good idea. The floorboards under his feet buckled,
a few of the first-class seats broke free and flew
through the air, they heard him scream . . . and
then the camera went dark. The overhead shot revealed
nothing-the first-class cabin appeared to be
intact, but huge billows of smoke and occasional
tongues of flame began pouring up from underneath
the fuselage near the already ripped-up coach-class
section.
"Oh my God!" Kaddiri screamed. She picked up
the direct-line telephone beside the lectern. lon,
come in! Range Control, come in! Is someone there?
Answer me, goddammit!
"What happened?" Fenton shouted. "What happened
? Is Masters
"I'm okay, I'm okay!" they heard a moment later.
The first-class, section camera came on again, showing
a disheveled but otherwise intact cabin, faintly
obscured by a thin haze of smoke. Then Masters's
face appeared behind a firefighter's positivebreathing
face mask, almost touching the lens.
There were some streaks of black under his nostrils
from exhaling smoke, and his short-cropped hair appeared
to be standing on end, but he looked unhurt.
A range-safety fireman was trying to pull Masters to
his feet. "The camera broke free of its moofinghold
on a sec."
"Is he insane?" Fenton shouted. "That plane is
on fire!"
"'Hold on a sec/ my ass!" Kaddiri shouted in the
telephone. "Range Control, pull Masters out of that
plane right now!"
Masters aligned the camera in its original place,
straightened his seat, sat back down, took a deep
breath from the oxygen mask, then handed it back
tothe fireman. He looked a bit shaky, his eyes darting
around the cabin, his breathing a little rapid, but
he was unhurt. "I'm all right, guys. The explosion
ripped the seat rails off the deck, and all the seats
went flying. Here." Masters grabbed the camera and
swung it around the cabin, focusing on the floor.
"But see? The deck is still intact. It ballooned UP
about a half-foot but didn't rupture." He swung the
camera aft toward the coach-class cabin. Smoke was
beginning to pour through the curtain, but he lifted
it so he could point the camera at the devastation
beyond. The cabin was completely destroyed, mangled
and blackened. Fire-fighting foam extinguishers
had already discharged to cut off the fire. "All I
had was a BERP curtain between me and all. that.
Awesome."
"He's crazy, Dr. Kaddiri, crazy!" Fenton shouted.
As if the explosions had been set off in the conference
room in Washington rather than a rocket-test
site in California, the airline and government execs
were scrambling for the door in shock and disgust.
"This is either some kind of trick, a publicity stunt,
or the work of a seriously deranged mind. in any
case, I'm not going to allow myself or the U.S. government
to be manipulated by such antics!"
"What are you saying, Secretary Fenton?" Kaddiri
"The department will not consider Masters's development
request and will block any efforts to utilize
that ... that BERP technology until we can
get someone in your organization to present a rational
, scientific demonstration and validation program
," Fenton said angrily. "And if he tries to sell
that technology overseas, you'll be sanctioned here
in the U.S., and any foreign aircraft using that technology
will be barred from entering U.S. airspace."
"But-but we proved the technology works!"
Kaddiri argued. "I'll admit, Secretary Fenton, that
Jon's methods were a little extreme . . . "
"Extreme! We could have watched Masters blow
himself to bits!" Fenton shouted. "He couldn't
place a robot or a dummy in that seat instead of
himself?" Fenton massaged his temples, in visible
discomfort. "I still can't get that picture out of my
head, Dr. Kaddiri-it's like watching images from
Vietnam, of Viet Cong prisoners being executed in
the streets or Buddhist monks immolating themselves
on TV
"Listen, Ed . . . I mean, Secretary Fenton," Masters
said through the satellite videolink, deciding far
too late that he had better be more diplomatic-and
fast. By this time, more rescue workers in breathing
apparatus had arrived and were hauling him to his
feet, trying to hustle him out of the stricken fuselage
. He looked like a hunted animal. "This technology
is too, important to ignore," he shouted.
"Forget this dem
o. No one got hurt. I'll turn over all
my test data to you. it's for real, believe me
But the fear and panic over the demonstration overrode
his protests. It was too late. Fenton and the
others were gone.
Helen Kaddiri plopped down on a nearby-chair in
the empty conference room, deflated. Years of research
, months of preparation-wasted. It would be
at least another year, maybe longer, before they'd be
allowed to present any information on BERP again.
Damn Jon, darrm his screwy project names, damn
his complete disregard for prudence! It could take a
complete change in administrations at the Department
of Transportation, even the White House, before
they got to present any more projects to the
government, to anyone!
The range-control phone rang, and Helen picked
it up. "Kaddiri."
"Helen, it was so cool!" Masters shouted gleefully
into the range-control officer's speakerphone.
"I mean, it was scary-man, when I saw that deck
buckle, I thought I was a goner-but it held! It
works!"
"Jon, everyone here is gone
"Hey, don't worry about the FAA or the airline
guys," Masters said. "They'll calm down, and when
they realize how important this technology is, we'll
have another dern-val program set up very soon.
We'll-"
"Not 'we/ Jon, " Helen Kaddiri said bitterly. i'I've
had enough of you and your complete disregard for
anyone else's feelings or thoughts or opinions. You
seem to think this is all a big game, and you don't
seem to give a damn how it affects our business."
Jon looked for the switch to turn off the
speakerphone and flipped it but instead turned on
the area-wide loudspeakers. Their conversation was
broadcast all around the testing area, making it easy
for the three dozen range personnel to hear Kaddiri
go on: "I tried to have you removed as president,
and I failed, so I'm not going to try it again. I'm
resigning as chairman of the board of directors, and
I'm leaving. I'm not going to work for a nutcase. If
you want to kill yourself, go ahead, but I'm not gomg
to stand by and watch you take the company
down from underneath us."
"Helen, wait a sec. Everything is cool! We'll be
fine ...
"You are not fine, Jon. You're obsessed. You're