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it that?” Martindale asked.
    “Because it lost out in the Next Generation Bomber competition,” Jon explained. “They didn’t want an unmanned plane; they wanted it stealthier and faster. I was going for payload and range, and I knew I could arm it with hypersonic standoff weapons, so we didn’t need stealth.
    “Besides, I’ve been designing and building unmanned aircraft for years—just because they weren’t comfortable with it doesn’t mean it couldn’t be considered. Isn’t the Next Generation Bomber supposed to be next generation? The design wasn’t even considered. Their loss. Then, to add insult to injury, I was prohibited from building the plane for ten years.”
    “But you built it anyway?”
    “It’s not a bomber, Mr. President—this is a multirole transport,” Jon said. “It’s not designed to drop anything; it’s designed to put stuff into it.”
    Martindale shook his head woefully. “Tap-dancing around the law…who else do I know likes to do that?” Patrick said nothing. “So you use an unmanned aircraft—that’s not a bomber—for the test of a laser that’s not an offensive weapon, but then put yourself in the line of fire to test its effects on a human? Makes perfect sense to me,” Martindale said drily. “But you certainly did water my eyes.”
    “Thank you, sir.”
    “You have how many of the Losers flying now, Jon?” Patrick asked.
    “There are just two others—we built three for the NGB competition but stopped work on the second and third when our design was rejected,” Jon replied. “It’s still a research-and-development program, so it was low priority…until you called, Mr. President. We’re considering putting our system on commercial planes as well as high-tech airframes.”
    “Let’s have a closer look at it, Jon,” Martindale said.
    “Yes, sir. I’ll have it fly over slowly so we can take a look, then I’ll bring it in for a landing. Watch this flyby—you won’t believe it.” He picked up his walkie-talkie and tried to call his control center, but the laser beam had fried it. “I forgot to take it out of my pocket before the test,” he said sheepishly, smiling at the others’ muffled chuckles. “I lose more phones that way. Boomer…?”
    “I got it, boss,” Boomer said. “Low and slow?” Jon nodded, and Boomer winked and radioed the mobile control van.
    Moments later the XC-57 appeared on final approach. It leveled off just fifty feet above ground, flying amazingly slow for such a large bird, as if it were a huge balsa-wood model drifting gently on a soft breeze.
    “Like a pregnant stealth bomber with the engines on the outside,” Martindale commented. “It looks like it’s going to fall out of the sky at any moment. How do you do that?”
    “It doesn’t use any normal flight controls or lifting devices—it flies using mission-adaptive technology,” Masters said. “Almost every square inch of the fuselage and wings can be either a lift or drag device. It can be flown manned or unmanned. About sixty-five thousand pounds of payload, and it can take up to four standard cargo pallets.
    “But the Loser’s unique system is a completely integral cargo handling capability, including the ability to move containers around inside while in flight,” Masters went on. “That was Boomer’s first idea when he came on board, and we’ve been scrambling to refit all of the production aircraft to include it. Boomer?”
    “Well, the problem I’ve always seen with cargo planes is that once the cargo’s inside you can’t do anything with the plane, the space, orthe cargo,” Boomer said. “They’re all wasted as soon as it’s loaded on board.”
    “It’s cargo on a cargo plane, Boomer. What else are you going to do with it?” Martindale asked.
    “Maybe it’s a cargo plane in one configuration, sir,” Boomer replied, “but move the cargo around and slip a modular container through an opening in the belly, and now the cargo plane becomes