Starfire (40 page)

“Forget about it, Jodie,” Brad said.

Jodie looked at her coffee, then at the tabletop. “Going up to the space station in just a couple days,” she said in a low, halting voice, “made me realize that . . . what I mean is, if . . . if something went wrong, I . . . I'd never see you again, and I wouldn't have had a chance to apologize.”

Brad reached over and took her hands in his. “It's okay, Jodie,” he said. “Nothing's going to happen. It'll be a successful flight and test firing, and I'll fly back. It'll be an adventure. It already
has
been an adventure. I wish you were coming with me.”

“Brad . . .” She squeezed his hands and lowered her head, and when she raised it again Brad could see the glistening in her eyes, even with just the light from the streetlights. “I'm . . . I'm scared, mate,” she said, a slight catch in her voice. “I know how badly you want to fly in space, and I'm happy you got this opportunity, but I'm still scared.”

Brad crossed over to a chair on Jodie's side of the table, put his arms around her, and held her tightly. When they parted, he lightly touched her face and kissed her. “Jodie . . . Jodie, I want—”

“Come with me,” she whispered when the kiss ended. Her eyes opened wide and locked on to his, silently begging. “Mate, don't you dare bloody leave me alone again. Please, Brad. Take me before you leave me.”

This time, in their next deep kiss, there was no hesitation in Brad McLanahan's mind whatsoever.

T
HE
W
HITE
H
OUSE
S
ITUATION
R
OOM

W
ASHINGTON
, D.C.

T
HE
NEXT
MORNING

“It's a good thing you decided to have me check other launch pads and spaceports, Mr. President,” National Security Adviser William Glenbrook said after President Ken Phoenix and Vice President Ann Page entered the Situation Room and took seats. “The Russians have indeed been very busy.”

“What did you find, Bill?” Phoenix asked, setting his coffee mug down, his second of the morning. His coffee intake had definitely risen as Election Day drew closer.

“A massive and rapid Russian outer-space rearming program under way, sir,” Glenbrook said. He hit a button and the first photograph appeared on the screen at the front of the Situation Room, showing a rocket with a winged lifting-body aircraft on the very top, replacing the rocket's nose cone. “This is the Plesetsk spaceport in northwestern Russia. The spaceplane we observed when the ROS was undocked from the ISS was confirmed as an Elektron spaceplane, likely launched from Plesetsk.

“There is another spaceplane already on the launch pad there,” Glenbrook went on, reading from the notes on his tablet computer, “and we believe these containers and this large storage facility near the launch pad is another Elektron and its Proton booster. We think it's a Proton and not an Angara-5 booster because of a lack of cryogenic oxygen storage nearby. The Angara-5 uses liquid oxygen and RP-1 kerosene, while the Proton uses hypergolic liquids: dimethylhydrazine and nitrogen tetroxide, two very toxic chemicals that burn when mixed, without need for an ignition source. The Angara-5 booster is more powerful, but its liquid oxygen needs to be replenished once it's aboard the booster because it boils off; the fuels in the Proton last almost indefinitely, so it can sit on the launch pad without needing service.”

The photographs changed. “This is the Baikonur Cosmodrome in Kazakhstan,” Glenbrook went on, “and as you can see, there appears to be another Elektron on a launch pad, on an Angara-5 booster this time. That's two that can be launched in fairly short order, maybe within days or even hours. The Elektron that was already launched when the ROS undocked from the ISS landed at the shuttle recovery airstrip at Baikonur yesterday. So we've accounted for possibly four Elektrons. We believe there are five in the inventory, although there might be more. So we set out to look for the fifth Russian spaceplane. It's nowhere to be seen in Russia . . .”

Glenbrook changed photos, and another picture of an Elektron spaceplane atop a large Russian rocket appeared. “We found it—not in Russia, but in the People's Republic of China,” he said. “This is Xichang spaceport in western China. Xichang was used for the largest, most powerful, and most reliable Chinese Long March rocket launches, but all those missions moved to Wenchang spaceport on Hainan Island, so Xichang wasn't being used that much.”

“So the Chinese are allowing Russian spaceplane launches from Chinese launch pads?” Ann remarked.

“Yes, ma'am,” Glenbrook said. He zoomed in the photograph. “Not only that, but these buildings are identical to the buildings in Plesetsk. It's possible that these are buildings either housing or meant to house a second Elektron spaceplane launch system, and if so, that means there are possibly six Elektrons out there, and there may be more. We're watching all these sites for future launches and recoveries, but based on our intelligence when those things were first deployed, the Russians can relaunch a spaceplane every ten to fourteen days after recovery. That is extraordinarily fast. It could be faster now.”

He stayed with the Chinese photograph but zoomed in on a different area. “Here's another interesting development.” He highlighted some objects with a laser pen. “The Russians usually install sophisticated S-400 Triumph surface-to-air antiaircraft missiles at all their spaceports and at major military bases,” he said, “but here we're looking at the S-500S, the world's most sophisticated surface-to-air missile, several times more capable and powerful than the S-400 or even our own PAC-3 Patriot. An S-500S is more akin to a medium-range ballistic missile than a regular surface-to-air missile, designed for extreme long-range air and space attack. This marks the first deployment of an S-500S outside of the Russian Federation, and the fact that it is on a Chinese military base is astounding—we assume that now the Chinese can access technical information on the best SAM system ever built.

“The ‘S' model indicates that it is designed to be effective against space targets—specifically, American space stations, spacecraft, and weapon garages in low Earth orbit, as well as ballistic missiles, low-flying cruise missiles, and stealth aircraft,” Glenbrook went on. “We searched the known S-500 launch sites around Moscow and elsewhere, and our suspicions are confirmed: they're moving some S-500s normally placed around some of their cities and dispersing them to spaceports. We're also studying the Almaz-Antney production facilities near Moscow and St. Petersburg to see if there's any evidence that the Russians are upping their S-500 production. We anticipate they will quadruple S-500S production very shortly, and every Russian military installation in the entire world will have at least one S-500S battery assigned to it.”

“Looks to me like they're preparing not just for operations in space, but to fight off another assault on their isolated bases,” Ann said. She and Phoenix exchanged knowing glances—the last American attack on a foreign military base from the air was the B-1B Lancer bomber raid on military targets in the People's Republic of China, led by Patrick McLanahan, whom everyone thought perished in the attack.

“So the intel guys thought as long as we're looking at other antispacecraft weapons that the Russians or Chinese are deploying, they'd look for fighter-launched antispacecraft missiles,” Glenbrook said. “There are three known bases for the Mikoyan-Gurevich 31D aircraft, which carries the Russians' frontline antiaircraft and antisatellite missile. We counted a bit more than their usual observed number, and we also counted more Ilyushin-76 aerial refueling tankers at each base. All of the bases are active, and the Russians fly patrols around the clock—at least two antisatellite flights are airborne twenty-four/seven. The bases at Petropavlovsk-Kamchatsky, Yelizovo Air Base, in the Russian Far East, Bolshoye Savino Airport in west-central Russia, and Chkalovsky Air Base near Moscow are particularly active. They fly patrols and do many training mock launches, zooming the fighters almost straight up to very high altitudes.

“The MiG-31 has been out of production for almost forty years, but it has some upgrades,” Glenbrook went on. “The plane itself is one of the fastest in the world. Carrying the ASAT missile turns it into a sluggish pig, but the system still works. It fires one modified 9K720 missile, the same as on the latest model of the Iskander theater ballistic missile, but with a millimeter radar-guided warhead with a high-explosive warhead for outer-space operations. There are about a hundred of the D-models in service—maybe more, if they are converting other models into antispacecraft models, or taking some out of storage.” He closed the cover on his tablet, signifying that his briefing was over.

“So it appears the Russians are responding to my space initiative by gearing up their space forces, and the Chinese are assisting them, at least with launch pads and support,” President Phoenix summarized. “Thoughts?”

“Not unexpected,” Ann said. “We've seen all of that stuff in action over the past several years, except the spaceplanes.”

“We have to assume they'll arm those Elektron spaceplanes the same as they did back fourteen years ago,” Glenbrook said. “They carried ten laser-guided hypervelocity missiles. No warhead, but a warhead is unnecessary—if an object hits the station or a satellite traveling several miles a second, it will definitely cripple it, and most likely destroy it. And the land-based missiles could very well carry a micronuclear warhead as well, the same used in the American Holocaust attacks, which, if it explodes within a mile of the station, could blow it right into oblivion. Even if it missed by more than that, the radiation and electromagnetic pulse would probably severely damage the station.”

“Our spacecraft are pretty well shielded against radiation, Bill, especially our manned spacecraft—they operate in cosmic radiation for years, sometimes decades,” Ann said. “But any kinetic weapon directed against the station is a serious danger.”

“The station has defensive weapons it can use, yes?” the president asked. “I got the tour of the command center on Armstrong. They said they could activate the big laser, Skybolt, in a matter of days, and they talked about a smaller chemical laser they could use, but the orbiting weapon garages are not active.”

“That's correct, sir, after the Starfire experimental stuff is removed,” Ann said. “Perhaps we should activate the Kingfisher weapon garages and place the inactive ones back in orbit.”

“I'm not quite ready to do that yet, Ann,” Phoenix said, “but I want to be ready in case we detect any movements toward our space assets, especially Armstrong. The rockets and air bases with those antisatellite MiGs can be targeted by sea-launched ballistic or cruise missiles, correct?”

“Yes, sir,” Glenbrook replied, “but it will take time to move a sub in position, and an attack by Russia against Armstrong Space Station can happen very quickly. If Russia can overwhelm the station's defenses, they could knock it out of the sky. A combination of an Elektron spaceplane attack, air-launched missiles, and ground-launched antisatellite missiles all attacking at once could do just that.”

The president nodded but remained silent for several long moments; then: “Let's give diplomacy and cooler heads a chance before we activate any more space weapons,” he said finally. “Knocking down Armstrong would be like attacking an aircraft carrier or a military base: an act of war. Gryzlov's not that crazy.”

“Russia has done both in the past, sir,” Ann reminded the president. “Gennadiy's father was the master of the sneak attack against the United States in the American Holocaust, with almost ten times more casualties than Pearl Harbor.”

“I know that, Ann, but I'm still not prepared to escalate this situation if I can avoid it,” Phoenix said. “I'll authorize use of all defensive weapons currently deployed, including the chemical laser, but no offensive weapons.”

“May I suggest we activate the magnetohydrodynamic generator on board Armstrong Space Station, sir?” Ann asked. Ann Page was the designer and builder not only of the Skybolt missile defense system but also of one of its many high-tech features: the MHD, or magnetohydrodynamic generator, a nuclear-powered device that produced hundreds of megawatts of power for the Skybolt free-electron laser without disrupting Armstrong Space Station's attitude controls or orbital path. “It's been in virtual mothballs for a couple years, and it will take a day or two to power it up and test it. If things do turn nasty it would be good to have Skybolt available as soon as possible.”

“You're talking about the generator that powers the big Skybolt laser?” Phoenix asked. Ann nodded. “I know we never ratified the treaty banning offensive space weapons, but we've been acting as if the treaty is in force. Would this violate the treaty?”

Ann thought for a moment, then shrugged. “I'm no arms-control expert or lawyer, sir, but to me a power generator is not a weapon, even if it is pumped with a nuclear reactor. Skybolt is the weapon, and some of its components are being used by those Cal Poly students to fire electricity down to Earth.” She hesitated, then added, “They could provide us some diplomatic security, should the need arise, sir.”

“They're not going to use the big generator, are they? I never authorized that.”

“The microwave-laser beam in Starfire is powered by the energy collected by the students' solar cells,” Ann explained. “The MHD generator is still physically hooked up to Skybolt, but the free-electron laser cannot be fired without disconnecting the Starfire components and plugging the Skybolt parts back in place. I have no idea how long that would take, but the students got Starfire bolted into place pretty quickly, so if it's needed I think we can get Skybolt back online fairly quickly.”