ally speaking, human beings are fine buck-passers--but there's one circumstance under which they refuse to pass on responsibility. If the other fellow says ''Your method won't solve the problem!''--then they get mad!
with the little black circle in the middle. How does that work again?"
Grant straightened up and carefully massaged the small of his back. "It's for precise manual navigation if you need it. You sit up straight and sight through it."
"And what do you sight at?"
"A star, of course."
"Put it in the little black circle?"
"An A for you. Then you snap in Automatic Navigational and you're in business. Or you can navigate manually by using Gyroscopic Navigational if you want."
"I'm ready to get out now." Bridget lifted her hands where Grant stood on the platform of the boarding device.
Back or no back, Grant couldn't resist the opportunity. He pulled her by the hands to where she was leaning out the opened canopy, then he stooped and grabbed her under the arms and swung her up. For a moment her soft hair brushed his ear, and a light scent from her neck suggested he keep her pliant form close to him a little longer than necessary.
Pilots of low-Earth-orbit Air Force fusion patrol rockets keep crashing their planes and dying. Engineers and technicians can't figure out why. So the Pentagon sends out a psychologist, which upsets everyone, especially since she is a "shape" (female).
The love interest part of the story seems forced and unnecessary, possibly a product of the time the story was written. The woman is given a brain and assertiveness, and manages to contribute to the plot by doing more than looking pretty.
Glib but relatively interesting story set in the flying branch of the armed forces of the future, and efforts to solve a life-threatening technical problem.