by T I WADE
“So, what can I do to help?” Ryan asked.
“The whole world is in total meltdown at the moment. Bill Withers called me and said that with ongoing, slow destruction throughout all communications systems including military surveillance and GPS satellites, things will only get worse in the short term. CIA headquarters in Langley is keeping the FBI at arm’s length. Meanwhile, large divisions of the FBI are uniting with reliable areas of FEMA, Homeland Security, SBI, and several other agencies, as well as commanders of reliable sections of the U.S. military. Members of Congress who we know to be just and conscientious are being visited, and we should have an idea of whose side everybody is on within the next few weeks. Only then can we prevent any more fiascos like those belated explosions of nukes, due to inexperienced personnel while the president has control.
“We have followed the likes of Bishop, Ward and Mortimer for years. They began abusing military funds years ago, but we could never get close enough to get them into court. Now Bishop believes he’s been appointed Director of Everything on the West Coast and is rattling his saber. He will begin to make mistakes very soon.
“Unbeknownst to many on several sides, we still have limited world surveillance, but it is only operational for several hours a day, and we have repositioned several surveillance satellites over problem areas. Iran is about to head south and wipe Israel off the map. North Korea is trying to start a war, as are Pakistan and India. From what’s left of our satellites, we learned yesterday that hundreds of tanks and military vehicles illegally crossed into Iraq from Iran. There is nothing anybody can do about it with our limited GPS directional controls to coordinate rocket, missile, or even drone strikes against this army. We don’t know if they will reach their target before our satellites go offline. If something else happens up there, we could lose a drone’s directional feed halfway through a flight. The U.S. military lost two more satellites just this morning. From the look of it nothing can be done about the lack of communications by any country for the foreseeable future. All we can do is wait for the destruction up there to end and see what’s left.”
“We will be receiving an update on the clearance of LSO within a few hours,” said Ryan. “One of my shuttles will be heading back to earth. Many here believe that most of the destruction in the lower space orbit zone is done.”
“Yes, the USA and several other first world countries still have satellites operating in the LSO zone, but the mid zone is where most of our more important military satellites are located, and we should know in a few days what’s left,” replied Joe.
“About seventy-two hours,” added Bill Withers.
“As far countries attacking each other, we need some kind of weapon to deter these attacking forces and hopefully stabilize the world’s status quo.”
“So, how can I help?” Ryan asked.
“Ryan,” stated Bill Withers calmly. “I took the liberty of telling the FBI about your lasers in space, and your showing at Cape Canaveral in Florida. I hope you don’t mind. My reasoning was that you showed your enemy your strength, but you never thought about telling the good guys. Too much happened too fast for us to do anything about it.”
“That’s fine, I was going to relay the message to you, but all this action got in the way. I’m glad you did some of the work for me, Bill. They weren’t ever thought as weapons. Joe, our entire space operation is still active thanks to these two lasers.”
“You want to help, I appreciate that Ryan. We might need you to use these lasers of yours to warn any attacking armies that the United States still has teeth. You can do that. Virtually nobody else can at the moment,” Joe confirmed.
“If I do that, and the president finds out, I will have the entire military knocking at my door, weapons firing before they even land,” Ryan replied simply.
“I’m prepared to fortify your airfield with 250 fully armed FBI agents who will be under your direct command or the command of Allen Saunders while they are here. I don’t have tanks, fighter jets and nukes, but we do have agents who will not appreciate being attacked by other American agencies. And I’m sure that the other American forces will not fire on hundreds of FBI agents protecting a vital security base. That is all I can offer in return for you blowing up a few tanks or aircraft, to force enemy forces around the world to go home. Believe me, they will back down when they are confronted with weapons they’ve never encountered and don’t know what they are or where they came from. I’m afraid some countries might use a stronger force like an EMP (Electromagnetic Pulse) blast to deter attacking forces. If we destroy any attacking army’s most powerful weapons, tanks or fighter aircraft, one by one, they will realize that ‘Big Brother’ is still up there watching them, their forces can be destroyed, and they can do nothing about it.”
“Where did this idea come from?” Ryan asked.
“From me, the former president, Allen Saunders and Joe, working out our future from the limited resources we have,” replied Bill Withers. “Ryan, I was employed by Joe and the FBI while I was at NASA. I was to keep an eye out for any mysterious events; I believe was why I was pushed out by the current administration after the election. They are doing their best to plug any holes to set up a watertight system for themselves. Over the last two days while you were running your space survival tactics, I spent hours on a conference call using the only phone line we have here trying to find a way of to deter the start of World War III. And, if we aren’t careful China will start it very soon. They are angry, very angry. They believe that the USA purposely destroyed their space station and communication satellites, using the asteroid explosions as an excuse. Ryan, if the Chinese were as advanced as our armed forces are, I believe we would have seen an attack on the United States already. Our mutual friend is sending emissaries to several countries in private aircraft to try to mitigate the frustration they have against us. The White House hasn’t even thought this far ahead yet.”
“Why didn’t you tell me all of this, Bill?” Ryan replied shocked to hear what had been going on behind his back. Now he really wanted to get into space and put an end to all of the “Spy vs. Spy” shenanigans.
“I wanted to make sure you were legit, Ryan. I found that out when Air Force One arrived. Those guys don’t like you, and it cleared the way for the FBI to begin protecting you from any possible attacks; yours is the only space program worth something to this country. The former president trusts you, always did, but you were always a lone wolf and we needed to make sure you were above board, hadn’t broken any laws, and are worth protecting as an asset. Allen Saunders will arrive in a few minutes. He is trying to get air support and a few more pieces of armor to protect this airfield.”
As he was speaking, Allen knocked and walked in. Ryan looked at him angrily, still shocked that his tight security had been compromised.
“And you gave me your word that you wouldn’t give out information,” Ryan, angrily addressed Allen Saunders.
“I kept my word, Ryan,” answered Allen sincerely. “Nobody knows anything about areas of your program that is not a threat to National Security. Joe doesn’t know anything about your space ventures, only that you have weapons that can defend this country. Joe, I have two C-130s with fifty men in each coming in from Nellis with a couple of armored Humvees, several heavy machine guns, mortars, and empty sand bags. I couldn’t get any more without making waves. I also have two Air Force BFVs, Bradley Fighting Vehicles, arriving on flatbeds by road. The eyes in the sky are blind, and I doubt anyone will see them arrive. Ryan, we can protect you if you allow us to house troops in your empty accommodations. A contingent of 100 air force and more FBI agents will certainly be a safeguard so that you can continue your project, in return for a little homeland defense and international persuasion now and again.”
“Ryan, your project hasn’t been compromised,” added Bill Withers. “Actually you are in a stronger position than before. We know that Bishop, Mortimer, or Ward will arrive shortly with troops; maybe not today, but as soon as the p
resident’s men can get back to normal business. I bet you that not one of his team will be subject to scrutiny by Capitol Hill over this debacle. He has already cleared McNealy, who really wasn’t the blame. Mortimer was the one who sent out the orders to fire those belated nukes. Now let’s get back to completing your project.”
It was time to move on. Even though Ryan felt betrayed, he knew that maybe the moves were necessary; he had already lost one launch, and three days, and needed the next flight’s cargo to replace the broken corridors on America One.
After a meal and a milkshake Joe returned to Los Angeles and Ryan’s entire team got back to work. It was thirty-six hours before New Year’s Eve, and thirty more of his crew and families were leaving on the last day of the year. That would leave him only sixty scientists, several family members, and his entire security force; there would be plenty of room to accommodate the arrival of agents and air men to help. He hoped he wouldn’t see Americans killing each other over his airfield.
Chapter 22
Flights resume
Jonesy was tired of space for this flight. A space shuttle wasn’t the best place to be cramped up with your future wife without household necessities for days on end, while shooting down the odd piece of junk that came their way.
They had just heard that America One had resumed her initial position after collecting the unharmed freighters. One of the freighters had taken a hit from something, as part of its solar array was missing, but the freighter’s search beacon was still working and Asterspace III had managed to connect to the vitally needed supplies floating around space.
VIN told ground control that the communications satellite they had used to hide behind had been destroyed. Ryan gave his crew the OK to resume the mother ship’s external building operations, with the first task to complete the large thrusters on the aft section. He wanted the whole craft to descend to a lower orbit, hoping to speed up operations by bringing her down to a 300-mile altitude. Bill Withers thought that within a week it should be safe to do so. Low space orbit was the cleanest place in the solar system.
The next problem was that although SB III could defend herself from space junk, the next shuttles due up with Penny and Michael, and then Allen and Jamie Watkins on her first flight together, didn’t have a laser, so this next week was important to get the supplies through unscathed. He couldn’t let the launches stop. He was getting tired and now that Kathy was off flights, she followed him around helping him out with food and coffee.
Jonesy was given orders to descend, and he slowly worked his computers to figure out his descent from the craft’s high altitude to get to his usual orbital “Top of D” for final reentry. Since the objects on his radar screen were still numerous and dangerous, he decided to make a slow descent over twelve orbits, which would take twenty-four hours.
On the second orbit at 500 miles above earth he began to see an increase in debris rising upwards. It shocked him to see so much; over a hundred pieces alone were flying into his radar screen at hundreds of miles an hour, in an area twice the size of Delaware. Compared to the rocks days earlier, the movement of the bits of destroyed satellites was like shooting ducks on a pond, and he easily cleared a path for Maggie to descend through.
For several hours he was continuously dodging or shooting metal satellite parts flying around them. Many of the objects floated passed without danger as they headed out of the orbits they had spent years in; he could see solar panels, silver walling, gold covers, docking hatches, butterfly panels, thruster exhaust, and every sort of man-made junk possible. Several small pieces hit the deflector on the nose and they could actually hear and see small objects the size of a screw or small bolt bounce away from them.
Since the craft was on autopilot with Maggie monitoring the controls, she had time to work out the density of the cloud of debris. It was spreading out and would become less dense as the cloud floated farther and farther from Earth. She calculated that the dissipating cloud was a thousand miles wide and most pieces moved past them at slow speeds. Objects of all sizes were still moving in all directions; the pieces they could actually see with their own eyes or on the radar were pieces of junk a few inches wide and over a pound in weight.
“Jonesy, I don’t know what is coming from the direction of Earth from the higher 12,000-mile level,” said Maggie. “I’m sure these pieces are going to hit each other, bounce around, and ricochet off in different directions. I expect that they will collide in a few days.”
“What about the geostationary altitude?” asked Jonesy.
“The average pieces we see are rising away from Earth and traveling at hundreds of angles. It takes about forty-eight hours to hit the mid-level layer and then about a week before those pieces get to the geostationary level. I don’t know how much energy is lost when two pieces collide, but it will be years before everything up here settles down. As an aerospace engineer, I think that 50 percent of the stuff heading up will have passed an altitude of 22,500 miles in about seven to ten days.”
“SB III to America One, do you copy? Over?”
“Hey! Are you heading down to Earth, partner? I had better tell the boss to lock his liquor cabinet.” VIN smiled, knowing that everybody at ground control was listening to him.
Maggie got on the radio to explain her findings to the entire Astermine team, and that VIN better get his cannon ready in about six days to repel junk that would pass through his area.
“Makes a good movie title,” relied VIN, laughing. “‘Attack of the Space Junk’, or how about ‘Space Junk Invaders’?”
****
Planet Earth was in real trouble. How could people survive without texting 24/7? The downed satellites caused havoc with communications. Some countries didn’t have communication systems like the Internet, cell phones, and pagers at all; their single or few satellites were totally destroyed. Many other systems were on overload; their populations competing for use on the remaining satellites caused the infrastructure to collapse. In a retro-world, dial-up modems, land line telephones and even call boxes were the best way to communicate.
The military were having the hardest time, trying to see through eyes that no longer gave them unlimited sight around the globe. The drones were useless. Creech Air Force base and dozens of other bases were on emergency standby; most of their flights in the air could not always be controlled. Air force jets patrolled the U.S. borders, their radar screens watching for any incursions. The couple of dozen satellites remaining, mostly orbiting earth a couple of times a day at the 12,000 mile altitude, went on and offline several times a day as they headed over a horizon. There was just enough feed to see what was going on for several hours a day, but here and there a valuable satellite was pushed off course, went into defense mode, or was broken up by “Space Junk Invaders”.
The president was kept informed of the proceedings around the world, but was far too busy trying to figure out what and who needed protection. He also worried about who he could trust for information on his own team and who might be suspect.
Everything on Earth not dependent on satellite communications still worked. Several television stations were still running, showing the news on a virtually permanent feed. Much like 9/11, everybody was shocked and trying to figure out how life had operated before the Internet and 4G communications.
Hal McNealy was working with a few trusted scientists on how to get satellites up with new communication relays. It would take years. Tom Ward was working on trying to get into the FBI databases to gather information. Joe Bishop was ordering relief people this way and that, and generally making the recovery situation on the West Coast even worse. In other words, the president and all the president’s men were doing squat to help the country and its allies. Nobody was interested in Ryan Richmond, yet.
****
Jonesy maneuvered the shuttle down to 100 miles above Earth over the next twenty hours. Once he reached the 300-mile altitude, nothing showed up on his radar. It was as if a vacuum cleaner had cleaned up lowe
r space. In his final orbit, he had to wait six hours before the C-5 took off with the next shuttle, full of cargo to repair and replace parts on America One.
Seven hours later they could see each other as Penny Sullivan in command of SB I climbed up into a clear black space.
None of Ryan’s craft used the Cloaking Devices anymore. Who would notice them? Maggie was in contact with the ISS. They gave her a report that they would need oxygen, food, and other supplies within fourteen days; and Maggie relayed the message down to Ryan. On their descent they had actually orbited close enough to visually see the ISS for the first time; it was thirty miles away. Maggie also suggested to the crew on the ISS that descending was now safe and the commander who had been ordered by NASA to stay at a higher altitude decided to ignore the orders. It would be easier for them to be supplied from LSO, and NASA wouldn’t be supplying them.
Jonesy and Maggie passed SB I still heading upwards. Both crews chatted over the intercom, catching up with the problems on earth while Penny increased the thrust to rise faster, behind the cloud of debris Maggie told them was heading upwards. It would take them the next four days to follow the debris, because it was too dangerous for them to go through it. SB III needed to reenter, her fuel was low and so were the provisions aboard.
