"Okay. But keep it quiet until Murdock's announce- ment. It's gonna be Kinsman."
Calder put his glass down on the bar carefully. "Chester A. Kinsman, the pride of the Air Force? That's hard to believe."
"Murdock okayed it."
"I know this mission is strictly for publicity," Calder said, "but Kinsman? In orbit for three days with Celebrity maga- zine's prettiest female? Does Murdock want publicity or a paternity suit?"
"Come on, Kinsman's okay."
"Really? From the stories I hear about him, he's cut a swath right across the Los Angeles basin and has been working his way up toward the Bay Area."
Tenny countered, "He's young and good-looking. The girls haven't had many unattached astronauts to play with. NASA's gang is a bunch of old farts compared to our kids. And Kinsman's one of the best of them, no fooling." 70
"Wasn't he going around with that folksinger . . . what's her name? Diane Lawrence, wasn't it?"
"Yeah, while she was out here. But lemme tell you about what he did over at Edwards. Him and Frank Colt have built a biplane, an honest-to-god replica of an old Spad fighter. From the wheels up. He's a solid citizen."
"And I hear he's been playing the Red Baron with it. Is it true he buzzed Colonel Murdock's helicopter?"
They were cut off by a burst of noise and laughter. Half a dozen lean. lithe young men in Air Force blues—shining new captain's double bars on their shoulders—trotted down the carpeted stairs that led into the bar.
"There they are," said Tenny. "You can ask Kinsman about it yourself."
Kinsman was grinning happily at the moment as he and five other astronauts grabbed chairs and circled them around one little table in the corner, while calling thf ir orders to the bartender.
Calder took his drink and headed for the table, followed by Major Tenny.
"Hold it," Frank Colt warned the other astronauts. "Here comes the media."
"Tight security."
"Why, boys," Calder tried to make his gravelly voice sound hurt, "don't you trust me?"
Tenny pushed a chair toward the old reporter and took another one for himself. Turning it backward and straddling it, so that his chunky arms rested on the chair back, the Major told his young captains, "It's okay. I spilled it to him."
"How much he pay you, boss?"
"That's between him and me."
