by Dietmar Wehr
“Sure, but give me a hug first.” The boy gave him a quick hug and then returned his attention to the model.
Hours later, while laying in bed—Maureen already asleep beside him—Strider admitted to himself that the prospect of another attack DID keep him awake at night. He made a mental note to check the supplies in the shelter in the morning before leaving for the day. This micro-step seemed to mollify his sub-conscious, and he drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Two
Eight months later:
Strider carefully parked his car in the visitors’ spot outside of the Testing Range offices and looked around as he got out. He hadn’t been there since the time the General had showed him the X-12, and then it had been night. The Base was quiet now. Nothing was moving. If he didn’t know that aircraft were still being tested here, he’d come to the conclusion that the Base was inactive. Was it possible that the A-12 programme had been cancelled? The latest rumor that an experimental craft had crashed was disturbing, but if the project was cancelled, why would the General have asked him to come out here on his day off?
Once inside, he was quickly shown into the General’s office. The General seemed pleased to see him.
“You made good time getting here, John. Have a seat.” He waited until Strider was settled in one of the comfortable chairs facing the desk. “You’re wondering why I called you here.” It wasn’t a question. Strider nodded anyway.
“We’ve had an X-12 prototype crash. It happened three days ago. As near as the engineers can figure it, a malfunction caused the internal fire light to go on. The pilot reported the light, and instead of waiting for instructions, he panicked and tried to eject the capsule while the craft was still supersonic. The ejection system wasn’t able to get the capsule all the way clear of the craft. It was still jammed half-in and half-out when the craft slammed into the ground.”
“Oh, God,” said Strider in a low voice.
“Yeah. All further testing of the other three prototypes has been suspended for now, and two of the test pilots assigned to this project have requested transfers. They have families who have convinced them that the X-12 is too dangerous. They’re already calling it ‘The Widow Maker’ for Christ sake! One test pilot is still willing to continue, but we need one more.”
“Just one more? Didn’t I hear you say there are three prototypes left, General?”
The General nodded. “You did. The craft that crashed was the 01, the same airframe that you got a good look at. The 02 is almost identical in terms of systems. We’re going to use that one to re-test the ejection system remotely after we make some adjustments to it. The 03 and 04 all have upgrades that we hope will make them safer to fly. I’m offering you the chance to join the Project, John. It’s strictly voluntary and saying no will not hurt your career or my opinion of you. Quite frankly, we’ll be damned lucky if we don’t lose another craft by the time the testing programme is done. You have a family: a wife and a son. We tried to find someone with the right qualifications who’s single, but there isn’t anyone like that. Over ninety percent of you jet jockeys are married. The other ten percent don’t have the flight experience or temperament for this job. If you say yes, make sure it’s what you want and not what you think I want. The last thing I want to have to do is drive to your house and tell your wife that you died in a crash. I had to do that three days ago, and it’s a hell of a lot harder if the dead pilot and his wife are good friends of mine, which is what you and Maureen are. So, if you say no, I won’t try to convince you otherwise. Will you need some time to think it over? Maybe talk to Maureen about it?”
Strider shook his head. “No, General. I know what Maureen would say. She’d want me to turn this down, and that would just make it harder to say yes; so, I’m saying yes right now. When do I start?”
The General looked at him for what seemed like a long time before speaking. “It’ll take a couple of days for the transfer paperwork to go through. In the meantime, don’t say anything to anyone.”
“Understood.” Strider got up. “Anything else, General?”
“Just one more thing, John. Keep what I’m about to say in mind when you’re flying the X-12. Really good pilots are hard to come by. Crashed planes can be replaced with new ones. If the shit hits the fan, and you’re wondering if you should bail out or try to save the plane, your priority is to save yourself. That’s an order, John.”
“Yessir.”
“Good. Okay, we’re done for now. I’ll see you again when you report here for duty.”
Strider shook the hand that the General offered and left.
It actually took almost a week for the orders to arrive telling Strider to report to the Test Base. That was when he informed his wife and Richard of his new job. Maureen was clearly not thrilled, in spite of the higher salary he would be earning, but she accepted the news with a calm resignation that Strider found endearing. She later told him that her new fears of a testing accident were somewhat offset by the relief that he would no longer be risking death in combat. Richard was excited by the idea that his dad would be flying the hottest planes in existence but was disappointed when he learned that his father couldn’t give him any details of what jets he’d be testing.
Getting up to speed on the X-12 took two weeks. The first week consisted solely of classroom learning. The second week was spent in simulators, which was something new for aerospace force training. Strider had learned how to fly the Raptor by taking flights in the two-man training version, with an Instructor pilot occupying the rear seat, but there was no two-man training version of the X-12. The company that had designed it was still working on developing a training version. That meant test pilots and the initial batch of squadron pilots had to learn as best they could with the simulators. Strider was required to perform 100 simulated take-offs, flights and landings, and the last 50 simulated landings had to be perfect before they would hand him the keys to the real thing. Captain Scott Degrut, the other test pilot, flew the Raptor chase plane during Strider’s maiden X-12 flight. He and Degrut had quickly discovered that they were kindred spirits.
The maiden flight went off without a hitch, and Degrut performed the ceremony that had become a strictly unofficial ritual on such occasions. While he was pinning the emblem shaped like an X-12 onto Strider’s uniform, an accomplice sneaked up behind Strider to empty a large bucket of ice-cold water over his head.
With his status as X-12 Project test pilot now confirmed both officially and unofficially, Strider and Degrut each flew chase planes the next day to observe and record the ejection test of the modified 02 craft. The capsule separated cleanly from the rest of the airframe, and while Degrut kept the capsule under observation as it floated down, Strider kept the now crippled and plunging craft in front of his chase plane’s cameras. The crash left him feeling unsettled, even though no one was aboard her at the end. With the modifications to the ejection system now validated, the remaining two prototypes would be modified as well, one at a time, starting with Degrut’s 03. That meant that Strider was busy flying the 04 airframe every day. He didn’t mind at all. Not only did he need the practice but flying the X-12 was as much of a rush as he had expected it would be. That was partly due to the upgraded engines that the 04 airframe used. The final test of those engines was intended to set a new altitude record. The old record, which had just been set several weeks earlier, was slightly over 82,000 feet at level flight. Strider would now put the 04 into a steep climb and keep going until the ship (he refused to call it the plane or the craft) couldn’t go any higher.
Setting a new record wasn’t the only reason for the mission. Planners were already doing preliminary work on a rocket-powered plane that could literally fly into orbit and land like a plane. They needed data on how an aerodynamic airframe would behave at altitudes where the air was so thin that normal controls didn’t work. The worst-case scenario was that the X-12 would start to tumble in the near vacuum at the edge of space, and the pilot might not be able to regain control on
ce the ship started falling back down. Waiting for the ejection system modifications to the 03 to be completed was considered sub-optimal because the 03 didn’t have the upgraded engines and therefore wouldn’t get as high as the 04 airframe.
The first part of the flight went well enough. Degrut tried to keep up with Strider’s X-12 as long as possible, but when Strider opened up the X-12 engines to full power and pointed the nose up at a 45 degree angle, his ship very quickly left Degrut’s Raptor far behind. Just as the ship approached the current altitude record, Strider heard a warning sound and felt the ship slow down. Both right engines had suddenly shut down due to lack of fuel. Yet the fuel tank in the right wing still showed it was over half full. It had to be a problem in the fuel system. What he needed to do now was obvious. Losing even one engine in a test flight not only justified aborting the flight, doing so was actually mandatory. He throttled the left engines back and at the same time pushed the control stick forward in order to get the nose of the ship pointed down. When it didn’t respond right away, Strider felt a shiver of fear, but only for a second. The wing and rudder control surfaces were working and were still having enough of an affect to pitch the ship forward, albeit slowly. When he was certain that the ship would come back down in a controlled manner, he reported to ground control. The flight back down was exhausting because the two remaining engines wanted to push the ship to the right, and he had to manually compensate by pushing the control stick to the left. The landing, though, turned out to be a lot easier than he had expected. When the ship rolled to a stop and he was able to release the control stick, he found that his hands were trembling from muscle fatigue.
The engine problem was identified and fixed within 24 hours. The General ordered another altitude record attempt and decided that Degrut would fly 04 this time, with Strider in the chase plane. Degrut got the ship to reach 89,999 feet altitude before it started descending again. It began to tumble, and Degrut was unable to regain positive control. Several hundred miles from the Base, the X-12 number 04 crashed into a mountain range.
Strider accompanied the General when he drove to Degrut’s home to give his wife—his widow—the bad news. On the drive back to the Base, Strider pondered his own future and almost asked for a transfer, but in the end he kept quiet. By the time he reached home, Maureen had heard about the crash, and when he came into the house, she held him in a tight embrace, not saying a word. When he hugged his son, he could feel the little body trembling with fear. Strider held him until the trembling stopped. It took almost five days to find the wreckage and retrieve what was left of Degrut’s body. All testing stopped until after the burial. The Project was now down to its final prototype and last test pilot. The only silver lining to the whole situation was that 97% of the test programme had been completed. The remaining 3% would test the missile systems that the combat version A-12 would use.
Chapter Three:
The attack everyone was dreading came eight days later. During the time leading up to it, Strider had been testing the X-12, firing air-to-air missiles carrying chemical explosives and also kinetic energy warheads. The former were tested against unmanned drones, while the later were tested against large plates of armor placed atop a high tower on the top of a hill. The armor plates had been painted with special metallic paint that would enhance the radar reflectivity of the missiles radar guidance system but that wouldn’t negate the necessity for the X-12 to fly at far lower altitudes than Strider was used to while still at attack speed. Both kinds of tests were successful, which left just one more missile system to assess. All those months earlier, Strider had guessed right about the Zeus Project working on a low-yield tactical atomic warhead. The Mark 3 warhead had the explosive equivalent of 100 times the power of the chemical warhead Strider had tested just a few days before. When Strider had first learned about the Mark 3 warhead, he asked the General why they had even bothered testing the X-12 with the other non-atomic missiles.
“The fact of the matter is we’re seriously rethinking using the Mark 3 missile at all. What we failed to anticipate is the impact of using any kind of atomic device in the air over or near a city. Atomic explosions send out massive waves of electrons that can short-out power grid transformers, radios, anything electronic. The eggheads who came up with the technology call it Electro-magnetic Pulse or EMP for short. Testing the missile with the X-12 was almost cancelled, but I pointed out that having spent all that money on the damn thing, and believe me when I say we spent a hell of a lot, we might as well test it and then decide if we’re ever going to use it. My wife came up with an interesting analogy. It’s like a condom. Better to have it and not need it then need it and not have it. Your first flight with the Mark 3 will not be a live fire test. The warhead won’t even be armed, just to be on the safe side in case you have to dump it or, God forbid, you crash with it still onboard. The first test will check out the control circuits, including a simulated launch with the missile deployed in launch configuration, and also to see how the extra weight affects the aircraft’s flight performance. If the first test goes well, the second test will be a live fire test over a remote area.”
On the day of the first test, Strider stood near the aircraft as half a dozen technicians wheeled in the test missile, positioning it under the open weapons bay. He watched as the aircraft’s retractable launch system was lowered down so that the missile could be attached to it. It was then raised back up, and the control circuits were connected and tested. When they were making their final checks, Strider walked over to get a close look. He pointed to a hole in the warhead casing.
“Why the hole, Chief?”
The technician smiled. “That’s where the arming trigger goes, Captain. It screws right in. We could install it in a couple of minutes if we had to. Without it, this beast is just a big hunk of metal. You could blow up the warhead with a stick of dynamite, and you wouldn’t get a fission reaction. What you would get is a lot of radioactive shrapnel flying in all directions, but no big bang.” He stepped back and looked at the missile. “She’s a big fucker, isn’t she?”
Strider nodded. He could see now why the General had mentioned checking out the X-12’s flight characteristics while carrying this missile. It weighed almost as much as a small car.
“I don’t think I’ll be setting any speed records while I’m carrying this thing. Is it ready to go now?”
“Yup. You’re good to go, Captain. Good luck.”
Strider checked his watch. The final test briefing wasn’t due to start for another ten minutes. He had time to get into his flight gear first. As he got changed, he noticed once again that he was alone in the Test Pilot’s locker room. Normally one of the other pilots would be in there with him, getting changed in order to pilot the chase plane. But with Degrut and the others dead, there would be no chase plane flying with him, and that meant if anything went wrong, he would be entirely on his own.
The General and the two technicians who would be giving the briefing were already in the room when Strider arrived with his helmet under his arm. The General come over to him with a smile on his face.
“You must be raring to go—.” The rest of the sentence was cut off by the sudden blaring of the Red Alert siren. Strider’s first reaction was annoyance. Who was the idiot that decided to run an alert drill now? The siren cut off after two seconds.
“This is a space attack warning! All units go to full combat status! This is not a drill!”
The message repeated, but Strider was no longer listening, and neither was the General. “Let’s get down to the bunker!” he shouted.
Strider and the technicians followed him. The bunker, normally used to monitor and track test flights, was also equipped with large screens that could be connected to the Planetary Defense Center’s computers. The quiet chatter that normally filled the air during tests was now much louder. The main screen was already showing the radar data from the geo-synchronous satellite that was permanently stationed over the main continent. A flashing red dot wa
s moving rapidly down from the north. Tactical update text messages were scrolling across the bottom of the screen.
UNIDENTIFIED SPACECRAFT HAS ENTERED ATMOSPHERE AND IS APPROACHING THE CAPITAL. DEFENSE SQUADRONS 144, 233, 077 HAVE BEEN SCRAMBLED. NO TRANSMISSIONS FROM SPACECRAFT HAVE BEEN RECEIVED.
Three green chevrons appeared on the screen. Strider instantly recognized them as being the lead aircraft of those three squadrons taking off.
“Are those Raptors carrying the usual mix of HE and KEs, General?” asked Strider.
The General nodded. “Let’s hope that’ll be enough. It should be enough. Fifty-four planes with eight missiles each. Even if only one missile in ten…hell, one missile in twenty hits that ship, it should still do enough damage to at least make them seriously think about aborting the attack and trying their luck somewhere else.”
As the red dot and the green chevrons got closer, the screen zoomed in. A white circle appeared around each chevron. Strider knew that was the maximum range that the missiles could reach. They would hold their fire until the Star Wolf ship was inside the circle.
“Shit,” said the General in a low voice. “They’re firing their own missiles!” Strider held his breath as he watched tiny red arrows emerge from the red dot and head for first one and then another chevron. Each squadron was being targeted by only one missile!
