“I’m sorry to have to call you in on a
holiday. This may be the Soviets heavy-handed idea of irony, but
they’re threatening us with some real fireworks.
“You know that the Soviets launched an
operating laser and used it to destroy the FireEye satellite, which
had recently been placed into orbit last April.” You don’t know
why, though, he thought. He caught Pat Danielson’s eyes on him from
where she sat in a rear corner looking remarkably alert despite
their late flight. She returned his gaze steadily until he looked
on around the room and continued. “The US appropriated that laser
satellite with the shuttle, but the Soviets launched another. The
US response was to put a small atomic device in orbit near the
laser. The device is specially shielded with a reflective coating,
difficult for the laser to penetrate. There are also heat sensing
circuits that will trigger the device if the laser is used on it.
The Soviets have been informed of this. We have promised to
detonate the device if the laser is used.
“They have now made their countermove.
They’ve surrounded the two satellites with a pack of six
hunter-killer satellites. These contain only conventional
explosives, but they’re powerful enough to neutralize our nuclear
device. The concern is that the protective circuits will not
respond to a blast wave. The Soviets are betting, or bluffing, that
we are vulnerable to the hunter-killers.
“Our task is to anticipate the intelligence
gathering operations that will be necessary to map out their
tactical possibilities, and our appropriate responses. As of
forty-five minutes ago, the Soviets had not tried to aim the laser,
but they could force the issue at any moment.”
Isaacs signaled, the lights were dimmed, and
a slide projected at the end of the room. The people sitting too
near the screen shuffled their chairs around and craned their
necks.
“This was taken from one of our KH-11
satellites from about 5,000 miles,” Isaacs continued. “The laser
satellite is the cylinder at the tip of the yellow arrow. You can
make out some details on it if you look closely, and, of course,
the image can be reprocessed to bring them out. The small spot at
the tip of the white arrow is our device.”
“What’s the actual spatial separation there?”
a voice asked.
“About two hundred meters,” Isaacs replied.
“The effective range of the device is much greater, the proximity
was chosen mainly for psychological effect. You’ll notice that our
device is located along the long axis of the laser satellite; the
laser fires out the side. The small dots at the tips of the six
shorter yellow arrows are the hunter-killers.”
“That’s an odd configuration they’re in,”
said Bill Baris from somewhere down the table. “Unless there is a
funny projection effect, they seem to be in two groups of three and
closer to the big laser satellite than to ours. Why would they do
that? Won’t they do themselves as much or more damage as they do
us?”
There was a silence for thirty seconds, then
a sudden voice.
“Shaped charges! I’ll bet they’re shaped and
specifically aimed away from the laser and toward our device.”
There were murmurs of agreement, then Baris
again.
“We’ll need some close-up photos to see if
the hunter- killers have distinguishing features and if there is a
pattern in their orientation that suggests they are aimed. I bet we
find they’re positioned so that any recoil will miss the laser.
We’ll need ground intelligence concerning their manufacture.”
Another voice. “If we assume they’re shaped,
we can work out the spread angle of the explosion from the
positions they’ve been deployed in, assuming they’re all designed
to hit us and none to damage the laser.”
Isaacs listened to this interchange with the
satisfaction he always took when the ideas began to flow in one of
these sessions. He had worked hard to assemble this crew and rarely
failed to admire their performance. It was a good thing someone
could think this morning. His mind was numb.
“How did we get in this fix?” someone
inquired. “Surely we saw the hunter-killers converging?”
“The Soviets play good chess,” Isaacs
responded. “They know how to use their pawns. They correctly
anticipated our dilemma as they moved the first one up. We had
promised to fire the nuke if the laser were used. But it’s a very
different story to fire the first nuclear device in space in a
generation when neither the laser nor even the hunter-killer is
actually used, just repositioned. I think there was also a failure
to realize that the heat sensitive circuits might not be triggered
by an explosion until extensive physical damage was already done.
In any case, once they had bluffed the first one into position,
adding others wasn’t much different.”
“We could up the ante,” someone suggested.
“Put up another nuke at a greater distance, but still in kill
range. If the hunter-killers take out the first, we take out
everything left with the second nuke. And we lay down an ultimatum.
Use one or both nukes if any hunter-killers approach the
second.”
Isaacs made a couple of personal notes to
augment the record of the session, which would be transcribed and
stored in computer memory. “The President may not want to escalate
in that direction,” he replied. “Let’s see what else we can come up
with.”
“What’s to keep the Russians from putting up
their own nuke?”
“They may be trying to keep some lid on this
in their own way,” answered Isaacs. “But that’s clearly one of
their options.
Let’s come back to that and see if we can map
out what would drive them to it.”
“How fast are those hunter-killers?” a new
voice asked. “Can the nuke be scooted somewhere else before they
can respond? For instance out of their range, but still within
nuclear range?”
Another voice answered. “Tough to outrun an
explosion.”
“Yeah, true,” the first voice answered
thoughtfully, “but at least you would be putting the pressure on
them to make the first overt move.”
“Maybe,” came the second voice, “but if you
force them to blast the nuke, they may figure they’re already
committed and start using the laser on everything else in
orbit.”
Isaacs had the projector turned off and the
lights back on. Around the room, people sat erect from the postures
they had assumed to peer at the slide.
“Let’s talk some more about the options of
the Soviets,” Isaacs requested. “What are they apt to do?”
“Well,” said Baris, “they could fire a charge
over our bow, so to speak, if the charges are shaped and the
explosion can be directed, just a little sabre rattling without
changing the status quo. Or they could go for broke, zap us with a
hunter- killer then use the laser with impunity. Or they could just
fire the laser, betting that we won’t use the nuke even if the
laser is actually used. Hunter-killers don’t do them much good
then, but there is some chance any explosion would trigger the
nuke, and they may not want to risk that.
“Come to think of it,” Baris wagged a finger,
“maybe they would want to try exactly that, just go ahead and use
the hunter-killers. If the nuke goes, they have us for using
atomics in space. If we chicken out, they have free use of the
laser and our vaunted nuclear threat comes to nothing. Just the
kind of pitiful giant posture they like to trap us in.”
Baris scratched his head as he thought. “If
that’s their most obvious move, then we just force them to it if we
try to move the nuke out of range of the hunter-killers. That seems
to me to be the question. Will they risk our wrath and perhaps a
nuclear explosion by using the hunter-killers, or just sit tight?
Do we use the nuke without direct provocation, or try to horse it
out to a greater distance? Or do we just sit with them and sweat
blood?” He stopped and looked around the room for a reply.
The discussion continued for an hour and a
half. They continued to produce ideas, filtering out the
unproductive ones, refining and developing the good ones. A
priority list of intelligence targets was constructed and
assignments handed out. Isaacs finally called a halt so that all
could turn to their individual tasks.
The next day, Monday, Isaacs finally found
some time to pursue his personal agenda. He’d promised Danielson
more data to refine her predictions of the upcoming event in
Nagasaki. Now he looked across the desk at the young Navy
lieutenant. Philip Szkada had been placed in nominal charge of the
Navy’s surveillance of the strange sonar signal. Although the day
was officially a part of the three-day holiday weekend, he had
agreed to meet Isaacs in Rutherford’s old office.
“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Mr.
Isaacs,” said Szkada. “I guess the last time was when you came to
visit Captain Rutherford just before—just before—.” His face took
on a heavy pinched look. “It’s still difficult to believe he’s
gone. By all rights I should have made that trip, but he insisted
on going himself.”
He was silent for a moment, then met Isaacs’
gaze.
“What can I do for you today?”
“You know that Avery Rutherford was a good
friend of mine. I’m interested in his death for both personal and
professional reasons. When we spoke over the phone at the time, you
indicated uncertainty as to whether the ship’s sinking was related
to its surveillance mission, but that the surveillance program was
downgraded afterwards. I was hoping to learn more about the
circumstances and the mission.”
“There’s not too much to say. In fact, under
the shock of the moment, I may have said too much. From reports of
the survivors and some scattered physical evidence, it appears that
the ship’s turbine exploded. There’s no firm reason to conclude
that the fate of the ship was related to her mission.”
He paused and made a tent of his fingers. He
cleared his throat before continuing.
“The mission itself is a confidential Navy
investigation. With all respect, sir, I’m not sure you have a need
to know.”
Isaacs expected and admired that response. He
would have demanded it of his own subordinates. He could not accept
it, however. He turned the tack back to the personal issue.
“You said you should have been on the ship.
Avery wasn’t the sort to pull rank unnecessarily.”
“No, sir, he wasn’t. But in this case I had
worked out the ideas that were the basis of the mission. I expected
to go.”
“Avery had nothing to do with the planning?
Strange then that he should have involved himself in that way.”
“Well, of course, we discussed the mission.
Some information had been kicking around and I managed to make
sense of it.”
“Avery had no role in that?”
“Not really. Some things just fell into place
for me after one of our discussions.”
Szkada paused and looked thoughtful.
“He did ask me some leading questions. With
the pleasure of seeing it fit together, I didn’t give much thought
to the actual process that brought me to the conclusion.”
He looked up toward the far wall over Isaacs’
right shoulder. Isaacs remained silent, reading the workings of his
face. He saw the frown lines disappear, to be replaced by arched
eyebrows and a look of mild surprise. After a moment another idea
hit him and he leaned forward and locked eyes with Isaacs.
“He fed me the idea, didn’t he?”
He pointed an index finger at Isaacs.
“And you gave it to him!”
Isaacs admired this perspicacity, even if
somewhat belated. No wonder Rutherford had spoken highly of
him.
“Lieutenant, I sent my best friend to his
death. I want to know what killed him.”
“Mr. Isaacs, I really can’t help you. I
presume you already know what the mission was.”
Isaacs wanted to make it easy for him.
“You’re monitoring a sonar signal that moves
on a trajectory that is fixed with respect to the stars.”
Even having deduced Isaacs was aware of the
mission, the frank statement startled Szkada. Isaacs continued.
“We have some seismic data showing the same
behavior. In case you’re curious,” he smiled, “the idea of the
fixed trajectory actually came from one of my people, a counterpart
of yours in the Agency.”
“You must know all I do then,” Szkada
commented. “I don’t have the authority to push for a full
investigation here, so we’re just in a monitoring mode. We’ve
learned nothing new. Perhaps we could collaborate,” Szkada
suggested, “with an official request from the Agency.”
Isaacs cut him off with a raised hand.
“Lieutenant, we have a similar problem. Our
mission has been officially shelved, partly because my superior
knows that your superiors are nominally continuing the
investigation. I want to say that I am here unofficially today.
“Let me ask you,” Isaacs looked intently at
the young officer, “do you think the ship’s destruction was related
to its mission?”
“I think we should be doing a lot more to
find out.”
“I believe I have a way to open this case up.
I’ll handle it in the Agency and if it doesn’t work out, I don’t
want you involved. Your data is intrinsically more accurate than
ours. I can’t ask you through channels, but if you could give me
the most precise values you have for recent sonar data, times, and
locations, I may be able to exploit them in a way that is
satisfactory to us both.”
Szkada contemplated the man across from him
for some time.
“I’ll show you the numbers we have. You copy
what you want on your own paper in your own handwriting. And good
luck.”
Isaacs nodded his acceptance of these terms
and reached in his portfolio for paper and pen. Enough time, he
thought, to get this data to Danielson before the crisis team
reconvenes. He could sense the presence of the hunter-killer
satellites orbiting, Damoclean, overhead. For the moment, at least,
the thread still held the sword aloft. He knew Danielson was
stealing moments from the hectic press of other duties to analyze
the positions of Soviet satellites to check for any correlation
with the seismic signal. He wondered whether she were having any
luck with that. He needed to see Martinelli to arrange surveillance
of Nagasaki, only two short days away, but that would probably have
to wait until tomorrow.