Chapter 18: Recusal

Ryder didn't say anything for a second.

The phone sat on the blanket between us.

"Haldane?" the chief pilot said. "You there?"

"I'm here, ma'am."

"Good. Bellini, study your engine-outs. He's mean about engine-outs." She hung up.

I turned and grinned at him.

He was looking at the ceiling.

"The best she's got," I said. "Did you hear that?"

"I heard it."

"You're going to have to give me a better word than fine now. Officially. On paper."

He smiled. It didn't get all the way to his eyes.

I didn't notice that until later.

For a week everything was good.

He made me fly engine failures in the sim on our days off until I could do them in my sleep.

Then he made me do them half asleep to prove it.

He made me pancakes, which he burned, and then he made more, which he also burned.

Sunny called Pop and told him about the lasagna.

Pop called me and laughed for four full minutes without saying a word.

On the next Monday I walked into the crew room at five in the morning for a Bethel turn.

The bid sheet was pinned on the corkboard. The training schedule was pinned next to it.

BELLINI. UPGRADE CHECKRIDE. MARCH 10, 0600.

Check captain: a line had been drawn through HALDANE in red pen.

Above it, in the chief pilot's square writing, was her own name.

The kid from Fairbanks was at the coffee pot.

He saw me reading it.

"Haldane recused himself," he said. "Thursday. Everybody knows."

"Everybody."

He looked at his coffee. "Sorry. I thought you knew."

I didn't.

I stood there looking at the red line through his name.

Four years of a man who didn't think I was good enough to know anything.

And now one more who didn't think I was good enough to pass.

Ryder came in at five-fifteen with snow on his shoulders, for the Fairbanks turn.

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