The only traffic I have is a TWA L-1011 in your six o""clock position.Range - fifteen miles.There""s an Allegheny DC-9 in your twelve o""clock position, fifty miles.Stand by one.I""ll take a look at Broadband.AirEast Pilot: AirEast 31 has traffic two o""clock, slightly above and descending.Air Traffic Controller: AirEast 31, Roger.I have a primary target about that position now.I have no known high-altitude traffic.Stand by one.I""ll check Low [Altitude].Over...AirEast Pilot: AirEast 31.The traffic""s not lower than us.He""s one o""clock now, still above me and descending.Air Traffic Controller: AirEast 31.Can you say aircraft type?AirEast Pilot: Negative, Center.No distinct outline.To tell you he truth, the target is rather brilliant.It has the brightest anti-collision lights I think I""ve ever seen - alternating white to red.The colors are a little striking.TWA Pilot: Center, this is TWA 517.Traffic now looks like extra bright landing lights.I thought AirEast had his landing lights on.As the not-so-routine communications continue, a few of the other Traffic Controllers crowd around the computerized radar screen as an UNK (Unknown) radar blip in the air-position display shows up next to the other two planes.Their oil ranch was discovered only after he died - she became a lonely millionaire overnight:He never realized how valuable the ground was he had his feet on.He tensely warned Cabot: "For you to get involved here, it""s like sleeping with another man""s wife, and what you are suggesting is that afterward, they can all live together under the same roof.Today of all days...That""s not my job.I haven""t any police authority...Dowg-gonnit, this is the Sheriff""s job, not mine." The Judge breathlessly rushes to the posse and hesitantly speaks to he assembled group on horseback who are itching to leave ("Aw judge, before you get ready to act, them rustlers will be clear down over the Rio"), but without his courtroom surroundings and judicial robes, he is powerless:I understand how it is, men...You can beat and starve our Saxons now, but when King Richard escapes, he""ll take you by the scruff of the neck and fling you into the sea.