Earth Has Been Found Read Online Free

too hopeful.
    “Back in March of last year, we had an item reporting the disappearance of an Aeroflot Ilyushin IL-14P — yeah, a real oldie — on an internal flight from Moscow to Irkutsk. Following usual Soviet practice for internal losses, no public announcement was made. Now — and this is the strange part — a previously reliable source says the plane has turned up again, at Vorkuta, North Russia.”
    Heads turned to study the wall map.
    “As you see, that’s way off the Moscow-Irkutsk flight line. In fact it’s about fifteen hundred kilometers north. Collateral intelligence suggests great Soviet concern; a plane load of high-power KGB men are known to have left Moscow in a hurry, destination maybe Vorkuta.” He shrugged. “What that adds up to, you tell me.”
    Lieutenant Colonel Frank Arcasso, section head of AI (Tech) 4, and Major Chester Holmes, an old friend from Academy days and a top-drawer intelligence man, exchanged meaningful glances; the latter shook his head almost imperceptibly. Neither took part in the short discussion. The item would be kept on file; supplementary intelligence might clarify the matter.
    The meeting broke up, but the two men did not leave. Arcasso got up and stared at the bleak scene out the window, while Holmes took his time packing up his papers. The room finally empty, Arcasso turned to his friend.
    “Well?”
    Holmes hesitated, fiddling nervously with the handle of his dispatch case. “I only saw the report. An awful lot’s happened since — since whenever it was — ”
    “August ’74.”
    “August ’74. It’s not surprising we’re the only ones who remember it. Chances are no one else even heard of it.”
    Arcasso gestured impatiently. “That’s not what I mean, Chet.”
    “Give me a chance. I was going to say that the angle that really bugs me is the absence of the F-4 report. It should be tied to this item. That in itself is strange — never mind the item itself.”
    “Could be a foul-up — the computer failed to spit out the F-4 papers.”
    “I don’t think so,” said Holmes. He looked up accusingly. “And neither do you.”
    Lieutenant Colonel Arcasso (to his surprise but no one else’s, he’d been promoted) clicked his artificial hand on his case. “We can’t walk away from it. It could be a hang-up in the computer.”
    “How about a private word with the chairman?”
    Arcasso shook his head. “I’ll do a little checking first. Joe Grauber is now the boss of my old outfit. We were together on the F-4 case.”
    “Watch where you put your feet, Frank.”
    “You can bet on it. This is the scariest thing I’ve ever heard, and I have a shrewd suspicion I’m not alone in that opinion.”
    *
    Arcasso flopped in his office chair, lit a cigar and examined the ceiling as if it were a hostile sky. The cigar was half gone before he lifted the phone.
    “Joe? Frank Arcasso. How would it be if I dropped by for a few minutes?” He sounded casual, but both men knew that “dropping by” involved a good fifteen-minute walk. The Pentagon is, after all, the largest office building in the world.
    “Thought I might hear from you, Frank.”
    Arcasso sat up in his chair. “Oh — why?”
    “The tom-toms can be heard quite clearly up here,” Grauber said evasively. “Frank, I’ve got a stack of paper to clear before I leave for a duty cocktail party. Meet me at the east door in half an hour. We can talk on the way to my car; I’ll deliver you to yours.”
    Arcasso replaced the receiver as if it were a sweaty stick of gelignite. Old Joe had not said so many things.
    *
    They met on time, for — as Arcasso knew — Grauber was a fanatically punctual man. But he was not prepared for the way his old colonel chose to play it.
    “Frank — nice to see you!” A warm handshake, a firm grip on his arm, steering him to one side, out of the mainstream of workers flooding homeward. They went out slowly, down the steps into the bitter cold evening, Grauber talking