Hal did remove his feet, if only to make way for the blueprint. He rose, leaning over the image in front of him. "Right. Malfunction. Very technical," he remarked. The plane that had killed his father had simply had a malfunction and that was exactly what they had blamed his own, two year death on. No one ever wanted to get into specifics.
"We could get a model of this plane shipped here," he suggested. "You won't find any answers on a scrap of blue paper."