Executive Intent

“ Gipper Range Control, this is Midnight One, I show two minutes to release,” Scott Bream radioed. “Checklist is complete up here.”

“Copy that,” the senior controller at the Ronald Reagan Ballistic Missile Test Site in the Kwajalein Atoll responded. “Range is clear and ready.”

“Range is clear, SC,” Bream reported to Boomer. “Release program up and ru

“Checked,” Boomer said. “Counting down, thirty seconds to go.”

“Select computer control to ‘AUTO,’” Bream reminded his spacecraft commander.

“Nah, I think I’ll hand-fly this one,” Boomer said.

“The test program called for ‘AUTO’ maneuvering.”

“I asked about it, and they said it was okay.”

A moment later: “Midnight, this is Casino, select ‘AUTO’ maneuvering, Boomer,” the chief engineer of Sky Masters Inc. and builder of the test article, Dr. Jonathan Colin Masters, radioed from the company headquarters in Las Vegas. Masters was an executive vice president and chief of design for Sky Masters. “Don’t screw around now.”

“C’mon, Doc,” Boomer protested, “it’ll be okay.”

“Boomer, if we didn’t have half the Pentagon watching, I’d say okay,” Masters said. “Switch it to ‘AUTO.’ You can fly the reentry and landing.”

“You’re all as bad as the military,” Boomer said. He sighed and configured the mission computer as necessary. “Maneuvering mode set to ‘AUTO.’ Where’s the fun in that?” Moments later hydrazine maneuvering jets arrayed around the Midnight spaceplane came to life, which stabilized the craft during release and would maneuver the spaceplane away from the test article after release.

“Bay doors already open…maneuvering complete…payload locks released, extender arms powering up, standing by for release…now,” Bream reported. They heard a low rumble behind them as the extender arms lifted the payload out of the cargo bay, then several short bangs as the thrusters maneuvered the payload ahead and away from the Midnight spaceplane. “Payload in sight,” Bream radioed back to Sky Masters headquarters. “It looks good.”

The payload was the experimental Trinity mission module, a twelve-foot-long robotic multimission spacecraft with a rocket booster in the rear; maneuvering thrusters; a guidance, datalink, and sensor section in the nose; and three chambers inside. Trinity was able to reposition itself into different orbits, detect and track other spacecraft, rendezvous and even refuel with a spaceplane or the Armstrong Space Station, and deploy and retrieve packages stowed in its mission chambers.

“Lost sight of it,” Bream reported as the craft moved away in its own orbit. “Cargo-bay doors closed, the spacecraft is secure.”

“That’s the way I like every flight-boring and secure,” Boomer said. He checked the flight computer. “Looks like thirty minutes to our orbit transfer burn, and then three hours until we chase down Armstrong. Wish we could be down there to watch this thing light off.”

RONALD REAGAN BALLISTIC MISSILE TEST SITE, KWAJALEIN ATOLL, PACIFIC OCEAN

THAT SAME TIME

“We’re just two minutes to release, everybody,” Deputy Undersecretary of the Air Force for Space A

It was a balmy and tranquil day on the water, but that didn’t prevent several observers from shakily stepping across the deck, holding on to railings and bulkheads. A

“Are…are you quite sure we’re safe, this close to the target area, Dr. Page?” a pale-faced congressional staffer asked. He was sweating so badly that she thought he had fallen overboard. “How far did you say we were?”

“Four miles,” A

“It’s a pretty humid day out, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, so we should see a very impressive sight as the projectiles descend,” A

“I’ve seen your presentations and animations, Miss Undersecretary,” a Navy lieutenant commander commented, sca

“Thirty seconds, everyone,” A

“‘Mjollnir.’” The naval officer sneered. “Couldn’t you find a good ol’ fashioned American name to give it, Miss Undersecretary?”

“It’s pronounced ‘me-ole-ner,’ Commander, not ‘muh-joll-ner,’” A

The observers stared out into the ocean. Everything was perfectly still, and the only sounds were the waves gently tapping on the sides of the barge. Nothing happened for several moments. The Navy officer lowered his binoculars and rubbed his eyes. “Did it work, Dr. Page?” he asked irritably. He looked at his watch. “It’s been almost fifteen seconds since-”

Suddenly there was an impossibly loud ccrraacckk like the world’s largest thunderclap had just erupted directly overhead. For those observers who hadn’t closed their eyes, there appeared in the sky over the target several streaks of white vapor, like a searchlight beam had been turned on. The target barge disappeared in massive geysers of ocean water and clouds of steam towering several hundred feet into the sky. The white vapor streaks seemed to hang in the air for several moments, finally begi

“What…was…that?” someone asked, as if he hadn’t listened to any of the briefings on the weapon.

“That was Mjollnir, ladies and gentlemen: Thor’s Hammer, the next generation of land, sea, and space-attack weapons delivered from Earth orbit,” A