Chapter 5 Chapter Four

Robert Langdon's Sabu 900S drove out of the Callaghan Tunnel at lightning speed and appeared on the east side of Boston Harbor not far from the entrance to Logan Airport.He checked the direction, found Airport Road, and turned left after passing the old Eastern Airlines Building.Three hundred yards from the entrance road, a hangar loomed in the darkness with a large "4" emblazoned on it.Langdon drove the car slowly onto the tarmac and leaned out of the car. A round-faced man in a blue flight suit flashed out from behind the building. "Is that Robert Langdon?" he called.

The man's tone was friendly, and Langdon couldn't tell what his accent was. "It was me," Langdon said, locking the car. "It's better to come early than to come early," said the visitor. "I have just landed. Please follow me." As they turned the building, Langdon felt a little nervous.He was really not used to this kind of mysterious phone call and this kind of secret date with a stranger.Since he didn't know what he was doing, Langdon put on his usual school uniform—silk yellow twill pants, a crewneck sweater, and a Helix tweed top.The two walked side by side, Langdon was still thinking about the fax in his jacket pocket, and still found everything on the fax unbelievable.

The pilot seemed to sense Langdon's anxiety. "Flying is not a problem for you, sir?" he accosted. "It doesn't matter," Langdon replied.Burned dead bodies are the problem for me.It's easy to deal with by plane. The pilot led Langdon to the hangar, turned the corner, and they walked onto the runway. Langdon stopped abruptly on the runway, staring dumbfounded at the plane on the tarmac. "Are we going to take this?" The man smiled and said, "Which one?" Langdon looked at it for a long time: "That's it? What is this?" The plane in front of you is a huge one. If it weren't for its bare and smooth top, you might really think of it as a space shuttle.The plane was parked on the runway, like a huge wedge.Langdon thought he must be dreaming.The thing looked like a Buick sedan, with no wings at all, just two stubby dorsal fins aft of the fuselage.A pair of guides extend from the stern.The rest of the plane is the hull—about 200 feet long from tip to tail—with no windows, nothing but the hull.

"This guy can reach a full speed of 25,000 kilometers per hour." The pilot introduced, like a father showing off his newborn child. "It is driven by hydrogen containing antioxidants. The shell is a titanium die made of silicon carbide fibers. The thrust of this aircraft is 20:1, while the thrust of most jet aircraft is only 7:1. The director must be anxious He wants to see you, but he will not easily send this big guy out." "Can this guy fly?" Langdon asked. The pilot smiled and said, "Oh, of course." He led Langdon across the tarmac and headed straight for the plane, "I know this guy looks scary, but you'd better get used to it." It. Five years from now, you'll be seeing these little guys—the HSCT, the high-speed civilian aircraft. Our test center is one of the first users of this aircraft."

Must be a great experimental center, Langdon thought. "This one is a prototype of the Boeing X33." The pilot continued: "But there are dozens of other national aerospace aircraft, the Russians have jet interceptors, and the British have level takeoff and landing aircraft. The future is here, It’s just going to take time for it to become ubiquitous and you can kiss the traditional jet goodbye.” Langdon looked up at the plane and said, "I guess I'd rather go with a conventional jet." The pilot pointed to the upper step, "Mr. Langdon, come here, be careful of the steps."

A few minutes later, Langdon was already sitting in the empty cockpit.The pilot ushered Langdon into the front seat, buckled him up, and stepped forward, disappearing into the cockpit of the plane. The plane's cockpit was strikingly similar to that of a wide-body commercial airliner, the only difference being that it had no windows, which made Langdon uncomfortable.Langdon has been plagued by claustrophobia all his life - an accident as a child still affects him to this day. Langdon's distaste for enclosed spaces was by no means a weakness, but it often made him feel frustrated, in subtle ways.He always avoided enclosed sports like racquetball or racquetball, and, despite the availability of affordable housing for school staff, he was willing to spend a small fortune on the bright, high-ceilinged Victorian mansion. mansion.Langdon often suspected that his childhood obsession with the art world stemmed from a love of the spaciousness of museums.

The plane's engine roared desperately below, causing the entire fuselage to tremble.Langdon endured in silence, waiting.He felt the plane taxiing, and the soft country music rang leisurely above his head. The phone on one side of the bulkhead rang twice, Langdon raised his hand and picked up the receiver. "Hello." "Are you comfortable, Mr. Langdon?" "Not pleasant at all." "Relax, we'll be there in an hour." "So, where exactly is 'there' you said?" Langdon suddenly realized that he had no idea where he was going. "Geneva." The pilot replied while speeding up, "Our experiment center is in Geneva."

"Geneva," Langdon repeated, feeling better, "upstate New York, to be honest, I have relatives around Seneca Lake. I never knew there was a test center in Geneva. " The pilot laughed and said, "It's not the Geneva of New York, Mr. Langdon, but the Geneva of Switzerland." Langdon didn't come to his senses for a long time, "Switzerland?" Langdon said a little excitedly, "I remember you said that it's only an hour's journey to this experimental center." "It's an hour's journey, Mr. Langdon." The pilot chuckled softly. "The flight speed of this plane is Mach 15."