Now they were filming an actual launch. Beijing had even asked if they could film the intercept, but Shen had refused absolutely, on security grounds. He understood the propaganda value of the Dragon launch, and offered to supply tapes of previous shots. They all looked alike. Who would know?
But the piece needed shots of activity in the launch center, and the reporter would add his narration. At least the general had been able to avoid an interview, again citing security reasons.
INN News September 30
The oval opening erupted in flame, and a dark blur shot upward. Mark Markin’s voice accompanied the video. “Released less than two hours ago, this dramatic footage from Gongga Shan Mountain in China shows the launch of a T’ien Lung, or Celestial Dragon.” Markin’s voice continued as the scene shifted to a more distant shot. The mountaintop, a rugged texture of browns, was capped by a small white cloud of smoke that lingered in the still morning air.
“That is their name for the spacecraft, or ‘ASAT vehicle,’ as U.S. officials describe the weapon. They also confirmed the destruction of another GPS satellite just a short time ago, the time of loss consistent with the launch shown here.
“This footage was released through Xinhua, the Chinese official news agency. The narrator claimed that China had now demonstrated military superiority over the United States, and that their superiority had halted American aggression in the region.”
The mountaintop and its fading smoke were replaced by a computer-drawn representation of the gun, angled upward inside a transparent mountain.
“Intelligence officials here believe that the gun is based on the work of Dr. Gerald Bull, who designed a smaller weapon for Iraq. That weapon had a barrel of almost a hundred feet and a bore of nearly a meter. It was capable of launching a projectile several hundred kilometers, and although it was fired successfully in tests, it was never put into service. The Chinese would have no problem obtaining this technical knowledge from the Iraqis, probably in exchange for weapons.”
Computer animation showed the process of loading the projectile, the launch, and sabots falling away from the projectile before a rocket booster fired.
“Before he was killed, possibly by foreign agents, Bull wrote of using such guns to launch spacecraft. Sources have hinted that a smaller gun, believed capable of firing across the straits of Taiwan, was built and tested. They now speculate that gun may never have been made fully operational, and have just served as a test bed for this much larger weapon.”
The animation disappeared, replaced with Markin, with an image of a GPS satellite behind him. “This brings to four the number of GPS satellites known to have been destroyed by China. While American officials have wondered publicly about how many T’ien Lung vehicles the Chinese can build, China threatened during the broadcast to destroy the entire GPS constellation unless ‘America abandoned its plans for Pacific hegemony.’”
United Flight 1191, En Route to Washington. D.C. September 30
Ray McConnell turned off the screen and put his head back against the seat. He hated being right, and he knew those “American officials” were indulging in wishful thinking. China’s space program had a good base of design experience. The kill vehicle, the T’ien Lung, was not trivial, but it was well within their capabilities. The GPS satellites were unarmored and had only the most limited ability to maneuver. Technically, it wasn’t a problem.
And logically, if they’d committed themselves to this premeditated confrontation, would they only have four or five bullets for their gun? I’d have two dozen stockpiled, and a factory making more, Ray mused.
It was bad news, although it helped strengthen his case.
He said it again. His case. Schultz had called him from Washington last night, telling him to come out ASAP, on Navy orders.
Sitting in his apartment, still depressed about his meeting with Carson, Schultz’s call had struck like lightning. McConnell hadn’t known what to think or hope.
He’d called Jenny to thank her, then frantically packed. He’d spent most of the night trying to organize the jumble of material that had supported the Defender design effort. McConnell hadn’t even phoned work, just sending an e-mail asking for leave.
Ray glanced at his watch, still on California time. By rights, Rudy only got the e-mail at seven, about the same time the plane had taken off. Ray would be on the ground in another few hours, and hopefully by the time the brass heard anything, he’d know one way or the other.
McConnell decided he did feel hopeful, but he couldn’t tell whether it was for Defender or his own personal success. Ray hadn’t even realized that he personally had anything at stake until his meeting with Carson yesterday. He’d thought of Defender as just an engineering project. His personal stake in it was greater than he’d realized, but that was all right. Other people, like Jenny, were committed to it as well, and that spurred him on.
He hooked his data pad up to the screen built into the chair back and started opening files. Defender still needed a lot of work. He’d seen enough Pentagon briefings to know what was expected. He couldn’t make her perfect, but he could at least hit the high points.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is the pilot. We’ve just received word that Air Traffic Control has rescheduled our arrival into Dulles to fourfifteen instead of three-ten this afternoon. There’s no problem with the weather, but because of the recent problems with the GPS system, they’ve just announced they’ll be spacing aircraft farther apart near the airports, as a precaution.
“United apologizes for the delay. Passengers with connecting flights …”
McConnell smiled. For once, he was glad for the extra time in the air.
Office of the Chief Of Staff Of the Air Force, The Pentagon September 30
Captain “Biff” Barnes tapped his data pad and the file collapsed down into a small spaceship icon. His presentation had condensed McConnell’s hundred-page design document down to fifteen minutes. It had been a long fifteen minutes, with Warner, his deputy, General Ames, and a flock of colonels watching intently. They’d all asked a lot of questions. Barnes had been able to answer many of them, especially about the laser installation, but not all. Defender was definitely a work in progress.
General Warner opened the discussion. “Captain, you’ve told General Ames that you think Defender will fly.”
Well, thought Barnes, actually I passed the file to Ed Reynolds in the ABL Program Office and Eddie gave it to the general. Also, I only told Eddie that Defender was better than anything else I’d heard of. The next thing I know, I’ve got two hours to prep a brief for the Chief of Staff of the Air Force.
But Barnes didn’t feel like correcting either general. “It’s the best shot we have, sir,” trying to sound positive, “unless there’s something in the ‘black’ world.” The armed forces ran a lot of “black” programs, secret projects with advanced technology. The F-117 had been one of the most famous. Was there one to deal with this threat?
“Nothing that will help us, I’m afraid.” The general shook his head, half-musing to himself. “The X-40’s operational, but she was never supposed to be more than a test bed. She doesn’t have the payload for this in any case.”
Looking at Barnes directly, Warner continued, “Yes, Captain, there is technology in the classified world that would help us—in anywhere from five to twenty years. The Chinese have jumped the gun on us.” He sounded angry.
“We should own this crisis, and we just don’t have the tools to deal with it! And now some SPAWAR employee and his buddies in their free time have come up with this, and we’re all taking it seriously?”
Barnes waited for the general to continue. When it appeared he’d run down, the captain said, “Well, sir, at least he’s former Air Force.”
Warner laughed, a little grimly, then looked at the wall clock. “All right, then, Captain. Let’s go see if the Joint Chiefs have a sense of humor.”
National Military Command Center, The Pentagon September 30
Ray
McConnell looked around the fabled War Room. Every available chair was filled, usually by someone in uniform, and often by a uniform with stars on it.
The Joint Chiefs themselves sat on both sides of a long table, with the Chairman at the head on the left. A briefer’s podium stood empty at the head, and behind the podium, the entire wall was an active video display. Ray almost felt at home.
He also felt rushed and a little unorganized. His plane had landed just a short time before. The Metro had taken him straight from Dulles to the Pentagon, and Admiral Schultz himself had met Ray. The outgoing admiral had quickly filled him in and shared some of his enthusiasm with the hurried engineer. They’d dropped his bags in the CNO’s office, of all places, and made the meeting with only minutes to spare.
Several rows of chairs to one side of the main table were filled with a gaggle of aides, experts, and assorted hangers-on, including Ray. Nervously, he typed on his data pad, working on the design that was never finished.
The Vice Chairman, a Navy admiral, stepped up to the podium, and the buzz in the room quickly died. “Gentlemen, the Chairman.”
Everyone rose, and Ray saw General Kastner, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, enter and take his seat. McConnell wasn’t normally awed by rank, but he realized that this collection of stars could really make things happen. They literally were responsible for defending the country, and that’s what they’d met to do.
The Vice Chairman, Admiral Blair, tapped the data pad built into the podium. A bullet chart appeared on the screen. It was titled “Protection of Space Assets.”
“Gentlemen, our task today is find a course of action that will protect our satellites from Chinese attack. Any solution we consider”—and he started to tick off items on the list—“must include the cost, the technological risk, the time it would take to implement, and the political repercussions.” He glanced over at Kastner, who nodded approvingly.
Blair continued. “Above all,” he said, scanning the entire room, “it must work, and work soon. The material costs alone have been severe, and the potential effects on American security and the economy are incalculable.
“For purposes of this discussion, while cost should be considered, it is not a limitation. Also, the President considers these attacks by China an attack on American vital interests, although he has not made that decision public.”
Nor will he, Ray thought, until we can do something about them. So cost wasn’t a problem, just shut down the Chinese, and do it quickly.
Blair put a new page up on the display, listing some conventional methods of attack. “You’ve all sent analyses indicating that these are not viable options. Our purpose is to see what other means you’ve developed since those initial reports.”
Kastner stood up, taking Blair’s place at the podium. Blair sat down at his left. The Chairman looked around the room. “To save time, let me ask a few questions. The President has asked me if we can arm a shuttle and use it to defend the satellites.” His tone was formal, as if he already knew the answer.
Kastner looked at General Warner, who glanced around the table before replying. “The Air Force would recommend against that. Not only would it take too long to prepare, it’s too vulnerable during launch. Certainly if they can shoot down a GPS satellite, they can shoot down a shuttle.”
The Chairman nodded, then looked at the Chief of Naval Operations. “Can we use a missile to shoot down the kill vehicle?”
Admiral Kramer answered quickly. “We’d hoped that would work, sir, but we’re sure now that we can’t. We had two Aegis ships in a position to track the last ASAT shot seven days ago. We’ve been analyzing the data since.”
“The T’ien Lung,” Kramer pronounced the Chinese name carefully, “is too fast. Our Standard Block IVs can shoot down a ballistic missile, but as hard as a ballistic intercept is, it’s easier than this. At least a ballistic missile is a closing target, but the ASAT is outbound. It’s a tail chase from the start. Even if we launched at the same moment, the intercept basket is nonexistent.”
“Does the Army concur?” Kastner looked at the Army’s Chief of Staff. The Army also had an active antiballistic-missile system.
“Yes, sir. It has to be from above.” General Forest didn’t look pleased.
Ray realized the general had just told the Chairman that the Army didn’t have a role in solving the crisis. Of course, the Commandant of the Marine Corps looked even unhappier. This was one beach his men couldn’t hope to storm.
General Kastner announced, “I’m also allowed to tell you that there are no special assets that might be able to destroy the launch site using unconventional methods.”
In other words, Ray thought, they can’t get an agent into the area. McConnell didn’t even want to think about how he’d destroy the launcher. Talk about the Guns of Navarone …
Which meant they were getting desperate. McConnell saw what Kastner was doing, eliminating options one by one. He knew about Defender. He had to know. Ray didn’t know what to feel. Was this actually going to happen? Fear started to replace hope.
General Warner finally broke the silence. “Sir, the Air Force thinks we can make the Defender concept work.”
Admiral Kramer shot a look at Schultz, sitting next to Ray. Then both looked at McConnell, who shrugged helplessly. Warner’s aide was loading a file into the display, and Ray saw Defender’s image appear on the wall. This was becoming a little surreal.
“Captain Barnes from our ABL Program Office has put together a presentation on the design.” Ray saw a black Air Force captain with astronaut’s wings step up to the podium. As he started to describe the spacecraft, McConnell felt irritation, an almost proprietary protectiveness about the ship. His ship. Ray wanted to speak up, to protest that he could describe it better than anyone, but Kramer wasn’t saying anything, and Ray could only remain silent.
It seemed to take forever for Barnes to work his way through the different sections: space frame, weapons, sensors, flight control. The final slide was a list of unsolved design issues.
Ray spoke softly to Schultz beside him. “He’s got an old copy of the file. I’ve solved two of those questions and added a new one.”
Schultz nodded, then pulled out his data pad and typed quickly. Kramer, watching the presentation, looked down at his pad, and tapped something, then turned to look at Schultz, nodding.
General Forrest had started to ask about one of the issues when Admiral Kramer spoke up. “Excuse me, General, but that list may be a little old. Mr. McConnell, the engineer who designed Defender, is here, and has solved some of those problems.”
Schultz nudged Ray, and the engineer stood up and moved toward the podium. As he passed Admiral Kramer, the naval officer muttered, “Go get ’em, Ray.” The engineer never felt less like getting anyone in his life.
As he approached the podium, Captain Barnes shot him a hard look, seemingly reluctant to leave. Ray said, “Hello,” conscious of the captain’s sudden obsolescence, and tried to smile pleasantly. Barnes nodded politely, if silently, picked up his notes and data pad, and returned to his chair.
Ray was acutely aware of the many eyes on him. He linked his pad into the screen and transferred the most recent version of the file to the display. He used the moment’s fiddling to gather his wits. He’d given dozens of briefs. This was just a little more impromptu than most. And much more important.
“I’m Ray McConnell, and I designed Defender to protect assets in space from ground-based attacks. It uses the Lockheed VentureStar prototype with equipment currently available to detect launches, maneuver to an intercept position, and kill the attacking vehicle. It also has the capability to destroy the launch site from orbit.”
Barnes had said that much, Ray knew, but he’d felt a need to also make that declaration, to say to these men himself what Defender was and what it could do.
He opened the file, and rapidly flipped through the large document. McConnell realized that the pilot had done a pretty good job of summari
zing Defender, so he concentrated instead on the work that had gone into selecting and integrating the different systems. That was his specialty, anyway, and it improved the credibility of his high-tech offspring.
A message appeared on his data pad from Admiral Schultz as he talked. “Are there any Army or Marine systems in the design?” Ray understood immediately what Schultz was driving at, and spent a little time on the kinetic weapons, adapted from Army antitank rounds. There wasn’t a piece of Marine gear anywhere on the ship, and McConnell mentally kicked himself for not understanding the importance of Pentagon diplomacy.
Ray made it to the last slide as quickly as he could, and felt positive as he assured the assembled generals that all the questions listed there could be answered.
“Thank you, Mr. McConnell.” Kastner rose again and Ray quickly returned to his seat, barely remembering to grab his data pad. “I’m much more confident about Defender’s ability, and probability, than I was at the start of this meeting. It is my intention to recommend to the President that Defender be built, and soon.”
McConnell felt a little numb. Schultz gave him a small nudge and smiled.
“We haven’t really discussed the political implications of arming spacecraft.” General Forest’s tone was carefully neutral, but his expression was hard, almost hostile. Would he fight Defender?
Kastner was nodding, though. “A good point, Ted, and part of our task.” He looked around the table. “Admiral Kramer?”
“I believe the Chinese have solved that issue for us, sir. They’ve fired the first shot, and said so proudly and publicly.” He smiled. “I think Defender’s name was well chosen.”
General Warner added quickly, “I concur. GPS is dual-use. The gaps are already starting to affect civilian applications, and that will only get worse. And those civilian applications are worldwide, not just here in the U.S.”
“All of our public statements will emphasize that we are taking these steps only as a result of Chinese attacks,” Kastner stated.
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