Executive Intent

“They’re doing great work on a shoestring budget, Conrad,” Turner said. “Every time they go out and capture, repair, refuel, and reorbit a satellite, they save us about a hundred million dollars compared to the cost of launching a satellite from Earth.”

“If he shoots his mouth off at Barbeau again like that, he’ll be beached faster than any rocket ship,” Carlyle said. “After putting up with McLanahan for so long, Barbeau’s not going to let another cocky space cowboy stay put.”

“Speaking of the space station, I got the initial report from Air Force about a test of a new space weapon,” Turner said. “They call it Mjollnir, or Thor’s Hammer, a system that reenters titanium bars through the atmosphere at thousands of miles an hour. They hit a small ship-size target from a hundred miles in space with one big metal bar. They had a bunch of congressional staffers observe the hit-I guess it really watered their eyes.”

“The ‘Rods from God’ actually worked, eh?” Carlyle remarked idly.

“Blew the hell out of the target. Direct hit.”

“Mil, I gotta admit: The space stuff is cool, and I’m sure the Air Force’s recruiting numbers are going through the roof, but there’s not any money in the budget for Rods from God or any more space stuff,” Carlyle said dismissively. “The president wanted aircraft carriers, Congress said yes, so there’s going to be aircraft carriers.”

“I know, Conrad, I know,” Turner said. “Building four more carrier battle groups has sucked up every available dollar out of the next ten defense budgets. But I’m already getting queries from Congress about the space stuff. When the word gets out about this incident in the South China Sea and then the success of this space-weapon test, the obvious questions will arise: Why are we building carriers that are so vulnerable?”

“We, especially the president, have the answer: The carriers are the ultimate in power projection,” Carlyle said. “You park an aircraft carrier battle group off someone’s coastline, and the negotiations start soon afterward. And they’re far more versatile than space-based assets. The space guys watched the incident in the South China Sea, but what could they do about it? Even if they had the Rods from God, or even that big laser they used to have up there, would they have sunk the Chinese carrier in response? The president is making the right decision, Mil.”

“The Air Force undersecretary in charge of space, A

“That’s her job,” Carlyle said. “But she was brought into the Pentagon so we could monitor and control her public comments. She can talk all she wants, but she still has to support the president and the administration as long as she’s in that post. If she doesn’t toe the line, we’ll make sure she’s disgraced as well as dismissed. It’s your job to make sure she stays on the right side.”

“I know that, Conrad. I’m just giving you a heads-up. We may be building carriers like crazy, but space is not going away.”

ARMSTRONG SPACE STATION

THE NEXT DAY

“Attention on the station, hostile spacecraft detected, all perso

Kai Raydon was on his way from the latrine cubicle when the alert came, and he propelled himself across the large command module faster than he had ever done before. “Why do these things always happen when I’m in the latrine?” he muttered. “Report.”

“Pirinclik has detected liftoff of a large rocket from an unknown launch site in southern Russia, designated E-1,” Lukas said, referring to the U.S. Air Force’s AN/FPS/79 space tracking radar facility in Turkey. “Confirmed by DSP and SBIRS-High. E-1 does not appear to be going into orbit, but is on a very high-altitude, very high-speed ballistic path.”

“Aimed at us?”

“Yes, sir,” Lukas said. “Time to impact, six minutes.”

“No a

“No, sir.”

“Then it’s a bad guy,” Kai said. “Designate E-1 as hostile. Are we tracking it yet?”

“Negative, sir. Our tracking radar and Doppler are off-line.”

“Perfect. Pirinclik still have it?”

“They’ll lose it in ninety seconds,” Lukas responded. “Globus-2 and Diego Garcia aren’t tracking. Shemya might pick it up about sixty seconds before impact.”

“They attacked at the perfect moment-right where our space surveillance coverage is the worst,” Kai said. “Okay, we’re down to our own infrared and optical sensors. Let’s have a look. We’ll have Pirinclik aim the sensors for acquisition.”

The large multifunction display between Raydon and Lukas changed from a radar graphic of the launch to a split-screen view of Earth. The left split showed Earth as a cool gray mass in the background, with flashes of light here and there from lightning and reflected sunlight, which computers were attempting to tune out as much as possible. The right split showed Earth through a telescope, set for wide field of view as it searched for the incoming missile.

“Four minutes to impact,” Lukas reported.

“C’mon, guys, find the sucker,” Raydon said.

“Too much background clutter…”

“Try manually tuning,” Raydon said. “The computers are tuning out the background clutter-tune for the target.”

Lukas switched the infrared sensor’s tuning to manual, and the left side of the monitor flared almost to complete white as the energy being radiated by the Earth washed out the heat-sensitive sensor. Seeker carefully adjusted several controls until the background faded, then began tuning even more carefully. “The sensor slaved to Pirinclik’s radar-it’s gotta be right in front of us, and hotter than hell,” she murmured. “Anything on the camera?”

“Nothing yet.”

“You’ll find it, Seeker,” Raydon said. “Countermeasures?”

“Standing by, sir,” the officer in charge of the station’s active defenses replied. “All systems active.”

“Three minutes. Pirinclik radar lost contact.”

“Seeker?”

“It’s gotta be cooler than I’m expecting,” the Air Force senior master sergeant said. “Unslave the camera and search separately in case I’m way off.”

“You’re not,” Raydon said. “Relax and find it.”

“Damage control parties in position, sir.”

“Copy.” On the stationwide intercom he said, “All perso

“Got it!” Lukas crowed. “It’s cold, not hot-they must’ve figured out a way to cool it off to make it harder to pick up on infrared.” She immediately slaved the camera to the infrared seeker and zoomed in. The visual image showed a simple black bullet-shaped object. “It looks like a payload, not the entire rocket-it must’ve already staged.”

“Countermeasures ready?”

“Defensive systems ready, sir.”

Raydon punched in instructions in his computer keyboard, then opened a red-covered switch and activated it, giving commander’s authority to fire weapons. “Attention on the station, countermeasures under way. Permission to engage, Seeker. Shoot when ready.”

“Radiating now.” Lukas entered commands into her computer, activated her own authorization switch, and hit a keyboard button. Moments later, an alert flashed on the monitors. “Automatic tracking failed,” she a