Starfire (49 page)

“I hate to knuckle under to Gryzlov, guys,” he said after a long moment's consideration, “but I feel I have no choice. I want the Skybolt laser deactivated and the module detached from Armstrong Space Station.” Glenbrook and Hayes looked relieved; Ann looked dejected. “What are we left with on the station after Skybolt is deactivated, Ann?”

“The Skybolt laser module has a few targeting sensors and lasers that will be off-line when the module is detached,” Ann replied, “but station will still have the Hydra short-range laser, the Trinity modules that are stored on station's truss, and the weapon garages of the Kingfisher constellation already in orbit.”

“All defensive weapons?”

“The Trinity modules each contain three land-attack reentry vehicles and three antisatellite vehicles,” Ann said. “Those could be considered offensive weapons. Sir, I wish you'd reconsider your decision,” she added. “We can't deactivate every military system Gryzlov wants.”

“Unfortunately, I made the decision to allow a military weapon system to be used for that college experiment,” the president said. “A lot of people are making up stories, expressing outrage and horror, and threatening war, but the fact remains that I decided to turn a college experiment into a weapon. I have to live with the consequences. Shut it down and detach it, Fred.”

“Yes, sir,” Secretary of Defense Hayes said.

“Mr. President, I would like to go to station to help deactivate Skybolt,” Vice President Page said.

“What?”
Phoenix's eyes bugged out in absolute shock. “That request is
denied,
Miss Vice President! That station is already in Russia's crosshairs, and it could come under attack at any moment!”

“Sir, no one knows more about that module than I do. I spent three years designing it and two years building it. I know every circuit and rivet, because I personally drew them by hand on a real drawing board and did everything but operate the soldering iron and riveter myself.” The president didn't look convinced one bit. “One more ride in space for the old lady. If John Glenn can do it, I sure as hell can. What do you say, sir?”

The president hesitated, studying Ann's smiling face carefully. “I'd rather have you close to the White House or out campaigning for our reelection, Ann,” he said, “but I know Skybolt is your baby.” He shook his head woefully, then nodded. “I might be crazy for doing this, but your request is approved. The first president, first Secret Service agent, first teenagers, first paraplegic, and now the first vice president in space, all in one year. My head is spinning. God help us.”

“Thank you, sir,” Ann said.

“I'll head back to Washington right away,” the president said. “I'll plan on going on television to explain that Starfire was not a space weapon and that the United States will deactivate and detach the laser module right away.”

“Very good, sir,” Ann said. “I'll see you from station. Wish me luck.” And the video teleconference was terminated.

“We're all going to need some luck,” the president said half aloud, then reached for the phone to call Air Force One's flight crew. In moments, the president's plane was heading east toward Washington.

Next, the president called Moscow. “What did you decide, Phoenix?” Gryzlov asked through the interpreter without any pleasantries or preamble.

“The United States agrees to undock the Skybolt module from Armstrong Space Station,” Phoenix said, “and at an appropriate time deorbit it and allow it to reenter the atmosphere. Any parts that survive reentry will splash down in the ocean.”

“Then Russia agrees not to restrict its airspace above twenty kilometers,” Gryzlov said, “to all spacecraft . . .
except
your S-series spaceplanes and your Kingfisher weapon garages.”

“We need those spaceplanes, Mr. President,” Phoenix said.

“They represent as much a danger to Russia as your Skybolt laser, Phoenix,” Gryzlov said. “Maybe even a greater danger. No, sir. The United States flew in space for decades without a spaceplane, and you now have several commercial operators who can service the space stations and do other tasks. The commercial spacecraft are permitted to overfly Russia, as long as they report their mission details before they launch. But after ten days' time from today's date, we will consider any overflight by the spaceplanes or the weapon garages to be a hostile act and will respond accordingly. Do we have an agreement, Phoenix?”

“No, you do not, sir,” Phoenix said. “The spaceplanes allow us access to Earth orbit and to our in-orbit assets. They are not military weapons. We will agree to keep informing you of future launches and their flight paths, and we will keep the spaceplanes from overflying Russia in the atmosphere if possible, but we insist on access to space for all our vehicles, including the spaceplanes. Are we agreed, Mr. President?”

After a long pause, Gryzlov said, “We will be watching your military space station for signs that the laser module has been deactivated and detached. Then we will speak again.” And the call was terminated.

Phoenix pressed the button for the communications officer. “Yes, Mr. President?” she answered immediately.

“I want to speak with the national security team back at the White House again,” he said. A few moments later, the vice president, national security adviser, and secretary of defense appeared again on the video teleconference screen. “I made a deal with the devil, guys,” he said. “I want the Skybolt module detached from Armstrong Space Station as soon as possible. Ann, get up there as quickly as you can.”

A
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A
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LATER

“Is he insane?”
Brad exclaimed. “Gryzlov wants us to detach Skybolt and deorbit it? And now he's going to restrict all the airspace over Russia out to
three hundred miles up
? That's craziness!”

“Guys, I am so sorry about this,” Kim Jung-bae said over the satellite videoconference feed from the White Sands Missile Test Range. “I never said it was a space weapon—that was Dr. Nukaga's conclusion. I'm sorry I told him we used the MHD generator, but all I did was admit to him that my power transfer relays did not work, and he asked me what power source we did use. I am so sorry, guys. I had no idea this would blow up like this.”

“It's not your fault, Jerry,” Brad said. “I think Dr. Nukaga thought it was a weapon from day one. But he supported the project because of you, and then when Cal Poly won that big grant and we went international, he was fully on board.” Jerry still looked ashen and dejected, as if he had just lost his best friends in the world by getting caught stealing from them. “The question is: What do we do now?”

“That one's easy, Brad; as soon as we can, we're going to bring a spaceplane up and get you and Casey off station,” Armstrong Space Station's director Kai Raydon said. He was seated at the command position, and every other combat position was manned as well—including the Skybolt station, even though the Starfire microwave generator was still installed. “After that, I want to get this station ready for war, not only on the ground but imminently in space.”

“Can any orbiting body completely avoid overflying Russia?” Casey Huggins asked.

“Any orbit less than about thirty-five degrees inclination will not overfly Russia,” Valerie Lukas said. “We can still look pretty deeply into Russia, although we miss most of their farthest north regions, depending on the altitude. In contrast, if we put up the same restriction, Russian spacecraft would be limited to no more than about twenty-five degrees. But except for geosynchronous orbits or for ocean surveillance, equatorial orbits are mostly useless because so little of Earth's population lives on the equator.”

“But that's not the point, Valerie,” Kai said. “There are thousands of spacecraft that overfly Russia every day—Gryzlov can't simply tell everyone that they have to move them. It's all bluster. Even if he had enough weapons to attack satellites that overflew Russia, he knows he could spark a world war if he even attempted to shoot down a foreign satellite. Gryzlov is making wild accusations, and using his trumped-up scenarios to try to institute an emergency edict and circumvent international law.” His serious expression turned even darker. “Casey, how long would it take to get your microwave generator off Skybolt?”

“Less than two days, sir,” Casey replied, “with at least one spacewalk.”

“Plus another two days, maybe three, to plug in the free-electron laser, with at least one spacewalk,” Valerie Lukas added. “Plus a day or so to test it. We could sure use some technical assistance and more hands to help.”

“Trevor, get Alice together with the Starfire people and start to work getting the microwave generator uninstalled,” Kai said. The station manager, Trevor Shale, turned to his communications panel and started making intercom calls. “I'll call U.S. Space Command and start getting some help and permissions to reinstall the free-electron laser and get it ready to go.”

“Do you really think Gryzlov would attack the station, sir?” Brad asked.

“You heard him, Brad; the guy thinks we're going to start razing towns, villages, and the countryside with death rays,” Kai replied. “He's given us an ultimatum of just ten days, and anyone that overflies Russia will be subject to what he calls ‘neutralization,' whatever that means. Those are some pretty serious threats. I want this station fully operational just in case he's serious.”

Kai heard the incoming-call alert tone and hit a button on his command console. “Just getting ready to call you, General,” he said after the encryption channels locked in.

“I take it you've heard Gryzlov's remarks, Kai,” General George Sandstein, commander of Air Force Space Command, said.

“Pretty outrageous, General,” Kai said, “but I'm believing every word. I want to reactivate the free-electron laser and start rebuilding the Kingfisher constellation right away.”

“Unfortunately, the order from the White House is to deactivate Skybolt and detach the module from the station, Kai,” Sandstein said.

“Say again, General?”

“That's the order from the president himself,” Sandstein said. “We're launching an S-19 and an S-29 as soon as possible to get the students off the station and bring up some extra personnel—including Skybolt's designer.”

The entire command module occupants gasped in surprise. “They're sending up the vice president?”

“You heard me right, Kai,” Sandstein said. “It sounds a little loco, but she's an experienced astronaut, and there's no one who knows Skybolt better. Sorry about Skybolt, Kai, but the president wants to defuse the situation before things get out of hand. Everything else in the green?”

“The Hydra laser is operational,” Kai said, shaking his head in disbelief. “We are also able to use the Kingfisher modules on the central truss for station self-defense.”

“Excellent,” Sandstein said. “Good luck up there. We'll be watching. Hopefully everyone will stay nice and cool, and this will all blow over soon.”

M
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EVADA

L
ATER
THAT
DAY

“Thanks for coming in so quickly, guys,” Boomer said as he strode into the crew briefing room. Seated around the room were the six spaceplane student pilots and four instructor spacecraft commanders, along with mission support and maintenance technicians. “This might sound like some cheezy World War Two novel, but I'm sure you heard Gryzlov's nonsense, and I think we are inching toward war with the Russians. The president has canceled the rest of his campaign and is on his way back to Washington to make an address about the Starfire thing. He has ordered the deactivation of the Skybolt laser and detaching it from Armstrong.”

Everyone in the briefing room looked horrified. “This is bullshit!” Sondra Eddington exclaimed. “Gryzlov spouts off, makes all kinds of outrageous claims, and threatens us, and we kowtow to him? Why don't we tell him to bugger off instead?”

“I agree with you, Sondra, but we've got our orders, and time is of the essence,” Boomer said. “We've been tasked to bring up supplies and technicians to help detach the Skybolt module, and we'll also be flying more supplies to the ISS as well. I think we'll be doing a lot of flying in the next couple weeks.” He looked over the spaceplane crewmembers before him. “John, Ernesto, and Sondra, you have a year of training or more and are checked out as mission commanders in at least two of the spaceplanes, so you're going to go operational and fly as mission commanders before graduation.” All three of them wore excited smiles and gave each other high-fives, and the others looked dejected. “Don, Mary, and Kev, you guys might not get much spaceplane time for a few weeks, but you can keep up your studying and double up on the simulator and MiG-25 time. Kev, you're closest to the one-year cutoff and you're checked out as MC in the S-9 and S-19, so you may be called upon if this thing drags on.

“Now, Russian president Gryzlov threatened to attack any spaceplanes overflying Russia after ten days,” Boomer reminded them all. “I think the guy is doing nothing but chest-thumping, but we just don't know for sure. So if you think there might be too much danger—even more than we normally have in store on every flight—you don't have to fly. No one will criticize you at all if you decide to bug out. We're not in the military: we're contractors, and although we put our butts on the line every time we step into those flying machines, we're not expected to work in a combat zone. We take enough risks already to not have to fly with missiles or lasers being fired at us, right? You don't have to tell me now—tell me in my office, in private, and we'll redo the schedule.”