by Larry Bond
McConnell was evidently a great organizer, and he wasn’t afraid to push a good idea. Putting it on SIPRNET had taken some courage. He had to be an aerospace engineer of some sort, and probably at a senior level. Biff hoped he’d be able to meet McConnell some day, possibly soon. It would be interesting.
6
In Decision
United Flight 1191, en route to Washington, D.C.
October 6, 2017
Ray McConnell closed the window with the news feed on his tablet and put his head back against the seat, shaking it in frustration. Usually, he liked winning a good debate, but he wasn’t reveling in the prospect that he was right this time. Ray knew that those “American officials,” the talking heads spewing their nonsense on the cable news programs, were indulging in wishful thinking. China’s space program had a good base of design and operational experience. The kill vehicle, the Tien Lung, was not trivial, but it was well within their capabilities. The GPS satellites were completely unprotected and had only the most limited ability to maneuver. From a technical viewpoint, it wasn’t a problem.
And logically, if the Chinese leadership had committed themselves to this premeditated confrontation, would they only have a handful of bullets for their gun? I’d have dozens stockpiled, and factories 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 house, still depressed about his meeting with Carson, Schultz’s call had struck him like lightning. Ray hadn’t known what to think or hope.
He’d then spent most of the night trying to organize the jumble of material that represented the Defender design. If Schultz wanted to talk about Defender, he’d want to see more than just the document that had been circulated on the net. There was a lot of supporting information behind the team’s initial work, but in the rush to get the basic document produced, they’d planned to put together the supporting annexes “later.”
And an admiral wanted to see it. Correction, at least two admirals wanted to see it. The CNO was also directly involved. Ray knew he had a lot of work to do. He’d seen enough Pentagon briefings to know what was expected. Ray finally quit at 5:00 A.M. and took a taxi to the airport. He could sleep on the plane.
Waiting at the gate, Ray dashed off an apologetic e-mail to Jake Olsen, explaining what he could and promising to make it up to his deputy somehow. Ray was pretty sure it would take something more than a fruit basket.
Rudy White wouldn’t find out about Ray’s absence until he came into work at seven thirty. Although Ray had official orders authorizing his travel, Rudy would still not be happy. Fortunately, Ray’s flight would be an hour in the air by the time his supervisor read his e-mail.
At the gate, Ray fidgeted, impatient and distracted. He typed, of course, trying to organize the thoughts crowding into his mind, but he kept checking the clock. It moved at an agonizingly slow pace.
Finally, it was time to board and then take off, but he found he still couldn’t relax. Ray realized that his stress had nothing to do with the flight, or the design, but with the thought of Defender actually becoming real. He’d been so emotionally braced for failure that he hadn’t prepared for success. It was time to start looking forward.
Ray paused to think about what it would mean for him personally. If Defender flew, it would, of course, mean professional validation. But would the powers that be let him be part of the program in some way? He was pretty sure he’d need a new job. His prospects at SPAWAR were problematic, even if Defender succeeded.
Once they were at altitude, Ray opened his tablet and continued to work and, now, plan for the future. Sleep was impossible. Thanks to Schultz’s call, the odds of Defender being built had improved from “slim” to “small.” Ray wanted to make them even better.
Triggered by a keyword search, the news broadcast had popped up, interrupting his work, but he’d welcomed the information. It reminded him what this was all about.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is the pilot. We’ve just received word that Air Traffic Control has rescheduled our arrival into Dulles to five forty-five instead of four thirty-eight 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…”
Ray smiled. For once, he was glad for the extra time in the air.
Dulles International Airport
Sterling, VA
October 6, 2017
Outside baggage claim, a balding man in his fifties, not particularly tall, was holding a sign that read, “McConnell, R.”
“I’m Ray McConnell,” he announced, and the other man offered his hand.
“I’m Bill Schultz.” He smiled warmly, easing Ray’s surprise at being met by the head of Naval Air Systems Command in civilian clothes.
“We’re keeping your visit low-profile, for the moment,” Schultz explained as they headed for the exit. “There’s a JCS brief tomorrow morning, and you’re going to pitch Defender.”
“To the Joint Chiefs of Staff?” Ray asked, shocked. He discovered it was possible to be both pleased and terrified at the same time.
There was a navy car waiting at the curb, and Ray’s bags went in the trunk.
Once they were in the car and moving, Schultz explained, “We’ll spend tonight and tomorrow morning putting together your presentation. Then you and Admiral Kramer will present Defender as a navy program at ten hundred hours.”
Concern growing, Ray protested. “You haven’t even seen what I brought out.”
“Have you discovered any fatal flaws in the concept since we spoke last night?” Schultz was smiling as he asked, and when Ray quickly shook his head, continued. “Defender is really all there is. If it doesn’t work, the Chinese win, so we are going to make it work.”
Relieved, Ray sat back in his seat and asked, “Where are we going?”
“First to get some dinner, then to the Pentagon. I’ve got a room at the Marriott Courtyard in Crystal City reserved for you. If we get enough done tonight, I might let you sleep a few hours.” Schultz was still smiling, and Ray could only hope for the best.
They ate at a sports bar a few blocks south of the Pentagon while the navy driver took Ray’s bags and checked him in to his hotel. “There aren’t many good and fast restaurants around here,” Schultz apologized, “but I found this place a few weeks ago. We’ve been pulling a lot of late nights recently, and I can’t stand delivery pizza.”
Schultz asked about how Ray had come up with the idea for Defender, how he’d found people to help, and then what the reaction had been within SPAWAR to his proposal. “Jenny passed on what you told her, but now I want all the gory details.”
As Ray gave a complete account of his climb and fall on the bureaucratic ladder, Schultz listened carefully, almost to the point of taking notes. Alternately frowning and smiling at his supervisors’ different reactions, he remarked, “Pay attention tomorrow. You’ll hear the same thing from officers who should know better. I’ve never met Admiral Carson, but I know the type. Anything that falls outside the wiring diagram is at best a distraction, and possibly a threat. Your idea was so big that it could only be a threat, to him and to SPAWAR.
“But you’re here, thanks to Jenny,” he continued. “So, how long have you two been going out?”
The sudden change of subject surprised him, and Ray had to pause before responding. “A few weeks. She showed up at the design sessions, and one thing led to another.” He shrugged, embarrassed for no good reason.
“Part of the reason—no, a big part of the reason I brought you out here was because of her support. She’s sharp, and I valued her judgment when she worked for me as a junior officer. If she thought you were worth something, then that was good enough for me.”<
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“I won’t disappoint you, Admiral.”
Schultz laughed softly. “I’m not the one you have to worry about disappointing.”
Office of the Chief of Staff of the Air Force
The Pentagon
2215 hours
October 6, 2017
Captain “Biff” Barnes tapped his tablet, 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 small gaggle of generals and colonels watching intently.
Warner had called together his “brain trust” to hear about Defender and tear it apart, if they could. They hadn’t said a word, which Biff took to mean there weren’t any showstoppers. That didn’t mean there weren’t any questions.
“What about her radar signature?” one general asked. “Can you add radar-absorbent material?”
Biff shook his head. “We don’t know about its heat resistance. There’s been testing of some advanced RAM concepts to about Mach 5, but Defender’s going way above that. We can’t even put it on the nonaerodynamic surfaces, because the material is so dense. We don’t have the weight margin.”
A colonel suggested, “How about adding a gun?” Others in the room almost laughed at the suggestion, but he defended the idea. “I’m uncomfortable with the weapons suite. It’s all untried technology. We know a gun will work in space.”
“We considered it, sir,” Barnes answered. “And it sounds like a good idea. Without air friction or ballistic drop, you’ve got a flat trajectory out to many times its normal range, and it doesn’t even have to be an explosive projectile. The Tien Lung ASAT vehicle is most likely unarmored. So we looked at a long twenty-millimeter barrel firing shells loaded with something like double-ought pellets.
“The problem is the weight of the installation. You can’t mount it in the nose, like a traditional aircraft, because any orifice in the front compromises the heat shield. And rigidly mounting the gun means that the spacecraft has to be precisely aligned with the ballistic path of the projectiles. It’s hard enough to get the right angle on a target a mile away. Here, the target will be much farther out.” Biff noted all the fighter pilots nodding in agreement. “Aiming would also use up reaction mass as the attitude-control jets fired.
“It would have to be mounted in the bay, on a remote two-axis mount. By the time you’re done, the weapon and its mount take up just as much space and weight as a railgun or a laser, and have over twice as many components. Since the flexible mount would be a new design, the biggest chance of failure lies there. Clearing an ammunition jam would mean an EVA.”
Lieutenant General Towns was the Vice Chairman for Strategic Plans and Programs, and, like the rest of the officers there, this was his first encounter with Defender. He’d been furiously taking notes during the meeting, only half-listening to Barnes’s briefing and the discussion. He listened to another question about launch support before speaking up.
“I don’t understand how we’re going to be able to present this as a complete design. Captain, you’ve fitted all these components together, but I’m seeing pieces of four different programs at different stages of development. I see two civilian technologies that haven’t been certified for military use. And since this will be a major defense acquisition system, we need to go through the Joint Capabilities Integrated Development System and develop a requirement, which we then have to demonstrate can’t be met with existing systems or a change in strategy.”
Towns gestured toward the screen. “We can only proceed with the design, which Captain Barnes is presenting here, after that is approved. I’m ignoring the fact that several of the programs Captain Barnes talks about are compartmented and will have to be formally approved for fielding, or were you planning on keeping them on the ‘black’ side, Captain?”
General Warner cut in as Barnes started to answer. “Hank, that’s not fair. I directed the captain to use whatever technology he could find to describe a viable weapons system. Which he has done,” Warner declared approvingly.
The chief of staff continued, speaking carefully. “Having determined that an armed spacecraft is the only way to defend the GPS constellation, and having identified technology that will allow us to construct said spacecraft, my intention is to present the secretary of defense with an air force program already at the design-readiness-review stage. This will enable us to move on to Milestone C, production and deployment, expeditiously.”
Towns scowled. “So we’re just going to ignore the first two-thirds of the acquisition process, not to mention most of the DoD regulations? And what about competitive bidding? Using VentureStar makes Lock Mart the sole-source prime contractor, and you’ve also identified specific components for the rest of the design. The entire thing is sole-sourced!” He almost shuddered.
Warner smiled. “Hank, you’re in this room because of all the problems you just stated. Take your best people and have them write the world’s shortest, simplest requirement. Have another group work on the justification for sole-source contracts, another group…”
Lt. General Towns nodded impatiently. “I understand, sir. My staff will get on it immediately. Other programs will probably suffer, of course.” That remark forced him to pause for a moment. He then asked, “And where will the money for this wonder program come from?”
“From those other programs, of course,” Warner answered quickly. “But as long as the Chinese are shooting down GPS satellites, anything connected with Defender is the most important thing in the air force.” Biff noted a lot of frowns, but the general ignored them.
“This is a critical moment in military history. The Chinese have opened the door to a whole new type of warfare. We knew it would happen eventually, but we were in no rush to get there, until now. Just as the airplane changed the way ground troops operated, spacecraft will change the air force. Regardless of whether Defender is ever built, we must review everything we do—tactics, hardware, and especially future programs. Anyone who doesn’t think there will be changes hasn’t fully grasped the situation.”
Caesar’s Diner
Crystal City, VA
0830 hours
October 7, 2017
Ray had wanted to get his breakfast to go, but Schultz insisted on their sitting down and eating in the restaurant. McConnell had protested. “I still haven’t solved all the power-management issues, and…”
The admiral cut him off. “Pace yourself, Ray. Five hours of sleep is only going to get you so far. And you can’t solve every engineering problem before today’s briefing. Besides, there are bigger things to think about.”
Ray’s expression as he worked on a steak omelet managed to ask the obvious question, and Schultz explained. “What part of the navy is going to run the program? I’m head of NAVAIR, and I don’t want it. I’d love to see some of the R&D folks at China Lake involved, because they’ve been very creative in the past. But this is way bigger than they can handle. And what about when it’s on the ground? We’ll need Marines to guard it, of course. Then there are launch-preparation considerations to be worked out. How long does a complete turnaround take under ‘combat conditions’? Can we work to shorten it?”
They took turns taking bites and exchanging ideas and questions. Schultz’s questions caught Ray flat-footed. He hadn’t given the slightest thought to how Defender would fit into the military once it was built.
During the ten-minute drive from the diner to the Pentagon, Schultz told Ray, “My goal is to present the JCS with a complete concept, not just of how this spacecraft will function, but how it will be supported and commanded.”
The admiral’s statements had surprised Ray, but also excited him. They assumed Defender would be built and take its place as a part of America’s military.
“For instance, we can’t run this kind of mission from Houston, or any of the existing space-command centers. That means we should have a rough idea
of what that center should be like. We get enough of those questions answered before they’re even asked, and the JCS will let us build your baby.”
Answers to the admiral’s questions swirled in his mind, competing for attention as they passed through security and headed for Schultz’s office. Ray couldn’t wait to start.
First Floor, E Ring
The Pentagon
0950 hours
October 7, 2017
“Bringing in a graphic artist was inspired, Captain.” General Warner was almost beaming.
“I knew he could get those diagrams done more quickly than I could, and they’d look a lot better.”
“What? I’ve found a pilot who wasn’t an art major?” Warner joked. “The important thing is that a dedicated artist let you concentrate on the content, while Sergeant Epperson made it look great.”
Warner’s aides had gone ahead to load the briefing and prepare the hard copies, and the two officers headed for the elevator down to the National Military Command Center, the “war room.”
As they rode down, the general said, “Biff, regardless of whether the JCS buys Defender or not, you’ve done a stellar job, and I’ll make sure Major Pierce knows about it. I know you’re looking forward to flying again, and I think you’re going to make an excellent operations officer. Unless you want to stay with the Defender program,” Warner added.
And miss a chance at ops officer, third in command of a fighter squadron? Barnes failed to suppress a wide smile. “Thank you, sir. I’ll do my best today.”
Warner laughed, a little grimly. “I just hope the Joint Chiefs have a sense of humor.”
