Fly by Wire

Chapter NINETEEN

Davis listened to the words, but he also registered the tenor of the voices. Not for the first time, he put himself in Earl Moore's place.

The recorder had four channels of input: CA1 was the captain's microphone, the voice of Earl Moore; F02 was the first officer, Melinda Hendricks; CAM was the cockpit area microphone, picking up everything, including extraneous sounds on the flight deck; ATC was air traffic control on the number 1VHF radio. The local time for each entry was also listed.

Davis recognized it as the autopilot disengage warning.

The airplane had begun its descent, and from the edge in the voices, Davis decided it was not a gentle maneuver.

FCC1 was Flight Control Computer 1. Davis circled this entire line on his copy of the transcript. The airspeed warning was referred to as a clacker — it sounded like a pair of castanets in rapid fire — and the meaning was clear enough. The craft was headed down in a severe dive, exceeding its maximum allowable speed.

The first officer was reading from the aircraft's emergency procedures checklist. It gave no help, just told them there wasn't a problem. Told them that what was happening couldn't happen.

The Doral engineer stopped the recording. He said, "At this point, ladies and gentlemen, we have a problem. It seems that the voice recorder's power was somehow interrupted. There is no more data until roughly ten seconds before impact, at which point, everything returns."

The recording fell silent.

The room did the same. In the middle of this massive, clinical examination of the demise of World Express Flight 801, all were clearly struck by the humanity of what they had just heard. The tape would be gone over again and again, and each time the silence would grow shorter, propriety giving way to the relentless drive for facts. As the pause extended, those in the room began to look at one another guardedly, like a congregation waiting for the minister to issue his "amen."

The technician from Doral, already running the show, finally said, "Dr. Bastien?"

Bastien, having slumped over the table, sat more erect in his chair. "Yes, very well. Your thoughts, ladies and gentlemen?"

Nobody ever wanted to be first at such a moment, even in a room of Type As like this. Davis let the silence sit as long as he could. Then, just as a Japanese air traffic control guy was about to open his mouth, he lobbed his mortar. "We have to issue an emergency directive — ground the entire fleet right now."

"What?" Bastien sputtered. "For what possible reason?"

There were other reactions around the room. Davis watched one in particular. Then he said, "The number of catastrophic events that will bring an airplane down in this manner is very limited. In my mind, I've already eliminated a fair number of them, and it leaves me with one overriding concern." Davis got up and walked to the screen at the front of the room. He said to the Doral technician, "0600:51, please."

The screen flashed and Davis pointed to what he wanted. "Here." The line referenced was:

Davis looked over the crowd and locked eyes with Jaber before he spoke. "The captain says 'FCC1… no 2.' I think it is very possible that we are dealing with multiple flight control computer failures."

The Egyptian stiffened, maybe flinched, but he said nothing.

Another guy with a CargoAir ID spoke defiantly, "No! There are many possible explanations for an FCC warning light. And even if there were two failures, the third channel would have taken over. What you suggest is simply not possible!"

Bastien said, "And we still have the issue of Captain Moore. It is clear from the recording that he was the pilot flying during the mishap sequence. If his intent was as we suspect, he might say anything — he knew the voice recorder was active and would be reviewed. I suspect he also knew that the data recorder was disabled. Moore even says goodbye to his loved ones at the end, knowing we will be here today listening to his words. This, I tell you, is evidence of what I have been suggesting all along."

Davis said, "Saying goodbye simply means he knew he was done for. You just said it yourself — all pilots know their words are recorded. What Moore said is the second most common thing to hear at the end of a tape. The first being, 'Aw, shit!' "

"No!" Bastien insisted. "No! We cannot possibly recommend grounding the fleet."

Davis went back to his spot. He didn't take his seat just yet, but he eased up. "All right," he said. "The voting members of our investigation team are all here. Maybe it's time for us to tally things up."

Bastien bristled openly. He scanned a room awash in undercurrents. Davis figured he was calculating his odds. The idea of grounding an entire fleet of airliners worldwide was extreme, but not unprecedented.

Bastien finally said, "I suggest the following course. We will not recommend grounding the fleet. However, Mr. Davis, since you feel so strongly about this possible mode of failure, I will instruct Dr. Jaber to commit his team at CargoAir. They will address specifically this avenue of our investigation. Should Dr. Jaber find any firm — I repeat firm — evidence of flight control anomalies, we will then revisit the possibility of an emergency grounding directive."

Davis thought it was ridiculous to put a company rep in charge of a branch analysis, even if the guy was an expert. The conflict of interest couldn't be more obvious. He decided to let it go for now.

Bastien said, "A show of hands, please — those in favor of the course I suggest."

Three hands shot right up, including Bastien's. Two others followed slowly.

"And against?" Bastien said, now looking rather pleased with his little display of democracy.

Davis raised his hand. Behind a grave expression, however, he too was pleased — and not quite done with his own touch of showmanship. He got up brusquely and stormed from the room.

Jammer Davis careened out the front entrance of Building Sixty-two, a bowling ball just looking for a few pins. He found them idling by a news van. With no further briefings scheduled today, the press pool had thinned down — two bored camera crews. Davis only needed one.

He paused, made sure his board member ID was prominently displayed. He waited for the reporter to hold out his microphone, waited for the red light on the camera. Then Davis made his statement in clear French.

"We continue our investigation into the crash of World Express Flight 801. With respect to possible causes, we have identified a new theory to explore, a technical issue not related to the headlines of yesterday."

And he stopped right there. Left it at that.

"Can you give any further details of this new theory?" the reporter asked.

"No." Davis began to walk away.

The reporter held out his microphone like a fencing foil. "But, sir. Surely there must be more—"

"Go to hell!" Davis yelled in English.

The reporters hand dropped, the microphone dangling by his knee. "Idiot American!" he muttered under his breath.