and looked forward along the large, empty tube of the fuselage.
"What in the fuck is going on here?" he asked in a soft, trembling voice.
4
"I demand to know just what is going on here!" the man in the crew-neck jersey said in a loud voice. He strode into the service area at the head of first class like a corporate raider mounting a hostile takeover.
"Currently? We're just about to break the lock on this door," Nick Hopewell said, fixing Crew-Neck with a bright gaze. "The flight crew appears to have abdicated along with everyone else, but we're in luck, just the same. My new acquaintance here is a pilot who just happened to be deadheading, and - "
"Someone around here is a deadhead, all right," Crew-Neck said, "and I intend to find out who, believe me." He pushed past Nick without a glance and stuck his face into Brian's, as aggressive as a ballplayer disputing an umpire's call. "Do you work for American Pride, friend?"
"Yes," Brian said, "but why don't we put that off for now, sir? It's important that - "
"I'll tell you what's important!" Crew-Neck shouted. A fine mist of spit settled on Brian's cheeks and he had to sit on a sudden and amazingly strong impulse to clamp his hands around this twerp's neck and see how far he could twist his head before something inside cracked. "I've got a meeting at the Prudential Center with representatives of Bankers International at nine o'clock this morning! Promptly at nine o'clock! I booked a seat on this conveyance in good faith, and I have no intention of being late for my appointment! I want to know three things: who authorized an unscheduled stop for this airliner while I was asleep, where that stop was made, and why it was done!"
"Have you ever watched Star Trek?" Nick Hopewell asked suddenly.
Crew-Neck's face, suffused with angry blood, swung around. His expression said that he believed the Englishman was clearly mad. "What in the hell are you talking about?"
"Marvellous American program," Nick said. "Science fiction. Exploring strange new worlds, like the one which apparently exists inside your head. And if you don't shut your gob at once, you bloody idiot, I'll be happy to demonstrate Mr Spock's famous Vulcan sleeper-hold for you."
"You can't talk to me like that!" Crew-Neck snarled. "Do you know who I am?"
"Of course," Nick said. "You're a bloody-minded little bugger who has mistaken his airline boarding pass for credentials proclaiming him to be the Grand High Poobah of Creation. You're also badly frightened. No harm in that, but you are in the way."
Crew-Neck's face was now so clogged with blood that Brian began to be afraid his entire head would explode. He had once seen a movie where that happened. He did not want to see it in real life. "You can't talk to me like that! You're not even an American citizen!"
Nick Hopewell moved so fast that Brian barely saw what was happening. At one moment the man in the crew-neck jersey was yelling into Nick's face while Nick stood at ease beside Brian, his hands on the hips of his pressed jeans. A moment later, Crew-Neck's nose was caught firmly between the first and second fingers of Nick's right hand.
Crew-Neck tried to pull away. Nick's fingers tightened... and then his hand turned slightly, in the gesture of a man tightening a screw or winding an alarm clock. Crew-Neck bellowed.
"I can break it," Nick said softly. "Easiest thing in the world, believe me."
Crew-Neck tried to jerk backward. His hands beat ineffectually at Nick's arm. Nick twisted again and Crew-Neck bellowed again.
"I don't think you heard me. I can break it. Do you understand? Signify if you have understanding."
He twisted Crew-Neck's nose a third time.
Crew-Neck did not just bellow this time; he screamed.
"Oh, wow," the stoned-looking girl said from behind them. "A nose-hold."
"I don't have time to discuss your business appointments," Nick said softly to Crew-Neck. "Nor do I have time to deal with hysteria masquerading as aggression. We have a nasty, perplexing situation here. You, sir, are clearly not part of the solution, and I have no intention whatever of allowing you to become part of the problem. Therefore, I am going to send you back into the main cabin. This gentleman in the red shirt - "
"Don Gaffney," the gentleman in the red shirt said. He looked as vastly surprised as Brian felt.
"Thank you," Nick said. He still held Crew-Neck's nose in that amazing clamp, and Brian