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Authors: Dale Brown

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“Mr. President, I am so sorry about this,” Spellman said, his deep monotone voice not masking the depth of his chagrin. His face was very puffy, as if he had been in a street fistfight, and the faintest whiff of vomit nearby was unmistakable. “I have never in my life been seasick, airsick, or carsick—I haven't had so much as a stuffy nose in years. But when that pressure hit me, my head started to spin, and before I knew it, it was lights-out. It won't happen again, sir.”

“Don't worry about it, Charlie—I've been told that when it comes to motion sickness, there's them that have and them that will,” the president said. To Roth, he asked, “The question is: Will he be able to return to Earth without getting another episode?”

“I think he will, Mr. President,” Miriam said. “He is certainly healthy, easily on a par with anyone on this station. I gave him a little shot of Phenergan, a longtime standard antinausea medicine, and I want to see how he tolerates it. In fifteen minutes or so, I'll let him get out of the cocoon and try moving about station.” She gave Spellman a teasing scowl. “I think Agent Spellman failed to take the medications I prescribed before takeoff as he was advised.”

“I don't like shots,” Spellman said gruffly. “Besides, I can't be medicated while on duty, and I never get sick.”

“You've never been in space before, Agent Spellman,” Miriam said.

“I'm ready to get out now, Doc. The nausea has gone away. I'm ready to resume my duties, Mr. President.”

“Better do as the doctor says, Charlie,” the president said. “We've got the return flight in just a few hours, and I want you one hundred percent for that.” Spellman looked immensely disappointed, but he nodded, saying nothing.

They made their way through yet another connecting tunnel, longer this time, and entered a third module, lined with computer consoles and large-screen, high-definition monitors. “This is the command module, Mr. President, the top center module on the station,” Raydon said. He floated over to a large bank of consoles manned by six technicians. The technicians were floating before their consoles in a standing position, their feet anchored in place by footholds; checklists, clipboards, and drink containers with straws protruding were Velcro'd securely nearby. “This is the sensor fusion center. From here we collect sensor data from thousands of civil and military radars, satellites, ships, aircraft, and ground vehicles, and combine them into a strategic and tactical picture of the world military threat. Armstrong Space Station has its own radar, optical, and infrared sensors, with which we can zoom in on targets in both space and on Earth within range, but mostly we tap into other sensors around the globe to build the big picture.”

He floated across the module to four small unmanned consoles behind two sets of three consoles and computer screens, also unmanned. “This is the tactical action center, where we employ the space-based weaponry,” Raydon went on. He put a hand on a technician's shoulder, and the man turned and smiled broadly at the president. “Mr. President, I'd like to introduce you to Henry Lathrop, our aerospace-weapons officer.” The two men shook hands, with Lathrop grinning ear to ear. Lathrop was in his late twenties, very short, very slim, wearing thick glasses and sporting a shaved head. “Henry, explain what it is you do here.”

Lathrop's mouth dropped open as if he hadn't expected to say anything to the president—which he hadn't—but just as Raydon was about to be concerned, the young engineer pulled it together: “Y-yes, sir. Welcome to station, Mr. President. I am the aerospace-weapons officer. I control station's weapons designed to work in space and in Earth's atmosphere. We have some kinetic weapons available, but the Skybolt laser is not active per presidential order, so my only weapon is the COIL, or Chlorine-Oxygen-Iodine Laser.”

“What can you do with it?” the president asked.

Lathrop gulped, a bit of panic in his eyes now that he had to answer a direct question from the president of the United States. But he was in his element, and he recovered quicker than before: “We can defend ourselves from space debris out to a range of about fifty miles,” Lathrop said. “We also use it to break up larger pieces of debris—the smaller the debris, the less danger it is to other spacecraft.”

“And can you use the laser to protect the station from other spacecraft?”

“Yes, sir,” Lathrop said. “We have radar and infrared sensors that can see oncoming spacecraft or debris out to a range of about five hundred miles, and we can tie into other military or civilian space sensors.” He pointed to a computer monitor. “The system is now on automatic, which means the COIL will automatically fire if the sensors detect a threat meeting certain parameters. We set it to manual as you were arriving, of course.”

“Thank you for that, Mr. Lathrop,” the president said. “So the laser can protect the station and break up space debris, but that's all? Didn't you once have the capability of attacking targets on Earth?”

“Yes, sir, we did,” Lathrop said. “The Skybolt laser was powerful enough to destroy light targets such as vehicles and planes, and disable or damage heavier targets such as ships. The Kingfisher weapon garages held guided kinetic payloads that could attack spacecraft or ballistic missiles, and also precision-guided projectiles that could reenter Earth's atmosphere to attack targets on the ground or at sea.”

“Do we still have those Kingfisher garages? I know President Gardner was not in favor of them—he used them more as bargaining chips with the Russians and Chinese.”

“President Gardner allowed seven of the garages to reenter Earth's atmosphere and burn up,” Lathrop said. “Another thirteen garages were retrieved and are stored on station's truss. Ten garages are still in orbit but are inactive. They are periodically retrieved, refueled, serviced, and placed back into orbit by the spaceplanes so we can study their long-term effectiveness and make design changes, but they are not active at this time.”

“The COIL laser is different than Vice President Page's laser?” Phoenix asked.

“Yes, sir, it is. We are prohibited from using any weapons with a range of more than approximately sixty miles, and Skybolt, the free-electron laser, can attack targets in Earth's atmosphere and on the surface out to a range of about five hundred miles, so it's currently inactivated.”

“Inactivated?”

“Not active, but capable of being activated if necessary,” Raydon said.

“In fairly short order?” the president asked.

“Henry?” Kai asked.

“We would need some expertise from Sky Masters or other contractors,” Lathrop said, “and a few days to bring the MHD's reactor online.”

“And an order from you, sir,” Raydon added. “Controversy over Skybolt nearly cost us the entire military space program.”

“I remember very well,” Phoenix said. “I aim to fix that. Please continue, Mr. Lathrop.”

“The COIL uses a mixture of chemicals to produce laser light, which is then magnified and focused,” Lathrop went on. “We use different optics than the Skybolt free-electron laser to focus and steer the laser beam, but the process is very similar. We use radar and infrared sensors to continually scan around station for objects that might be a hazard—we can detect and engage objects as small as a golf ball. The COIL has a normal maximum range of three hundred miles, but we've detuned the laser by eliminating some of the reflectors that increase laser power, so we're right at the legal limit.”

“Can you show me how the sensors work?” the president asked. “Perhaps do a mock attack on an Earth target?”

Lathrop looked panicked again, and he turned to Raydon, who nodded. “Show the president how it's done, Henry,” he said.

“Yes, sir,” Lathrop said, the excitement quickly growing on his face. His fingers flew over a keyboard on his console. “We occasionally do attack drills on a series of targets that are continually tracked and are prioritized.” The largest computer monitor came to life. It showed a large area of the earth with the space station's track and position approaching the North Pole from eastern Siberia. There was a series of circles around several spots in Russia.

“What are those circles, Mr. Lathrop?” the president asked.

“We call them ‘Delta Bravos,' or duck blinds,” Lathrop replied. “Locations of known antisatellite weapons. The circles are the approximate radius of action of the weapons there.”

“We're coming awfully close to that one, aren't we?”

“We fly over many of them in a day, located in Russia, China, and several countries aligned with them,” Lathrop said. “That particular one is Yelizovo Airport, a MiG-31D fighter base that we know has antisatellite weapons they can launch from the air. They routinely fly patrols from there and even practice attack runs.”

“They
do
?” the president asked incredulously. “How do you know if it's a real attack or not?”

“We scan for the missile,” Kai explained. “We can see the missile and have less than two minutes to launch defensive weapons or hit it with the lasers. We scan them and analyze any signals they transmit, and we can study them by radar and optronics to find out if they're getting ready to do something. They almost always track us on long-range radar, but every now and then they'll hit us with a target-tracking and missile-guidance radar.”

“Why?”

“Try to scare us, try to get us to hit them with Skybolt or an Earth-attack weapon, so they can prove how evil we are,” Trevor said. “It's all cat-and-mouse Cold War nonsense. We usually ignore it.”

“It does keep us on our toes, though,” Valerie added. “Command, this is Combat, simulated target designated Golf Seven will be in range in three minutes.”

“Prepare for simulated Skybolt engagement,” Raydon said. “Attention on station, simulated target engagement in three minutes. Operations to the command module. All crewmembers go to combat stations and report. Secure all docks and hatches. Off-duty personnel report to damage-control stations, suit up, and commence prebreathing. Simulate undock Midnight.”

“What is that about, General?” the president asked.

“Off-duty personnel have damage-control responsibilities,” Kai said. “Up here, that may mean doing a spacewalk to retrieve equipment or . . . personnel lost in space. Prebreathing pure oxygen for as long as possible allows them to put on an ACES space suit and do their rescue duties, even if it means a spacewalk. They might need to do a lot of repair and recovery operations in open space. For the same reason, we also undock whatever spacecraft we have on station to use as lifeboats in case of problems—we would use the lifeboat spheres and await rescue by a spaceplane or commercial transport.” The president swallowed hard at those grim thoughts.

“Command, this is Operations, request permission to simulated spin up the MHD,” Valerie Lukas said from her place on the bulkhead, observing the mock engagement.

“Permission granted, simulate spinning up the MHD, make all preparations to engage simulated terrestrial target.” It was like a tabletop play rehearsal, the president noted: everyone was saying their parts, but no one was actually moving or doing anything.

“Roger. Engineering, this is Operations, simulate spinning up the MHD, report activation and fifty percent power level.”

“Operations, Engineering, Roger, simulated spin up the MHD,” the engineering officer, Alice Hamilton, reported. A few moments later: “Operations, Engineering, the MHD is simulated active, power level at twelve percent and rising.”

“Command, this is Operations, the MHD is simulated online.”

“Command copies. Combat, what's our simulated target?”

“Simulated terrestrial target Golf Seven is a deactivated DEW Line radar site in western Greenland,” Lathrop said. “Primary sensor data will be from SBR. Stand by for secondary sensor source.” His fingers flew over his keyboard again. “Simulated secondary sensor source will be USA-234, a radar-imaging satellite, which will be above Golf Seven's horizon in sixty seconds and will be in range of the target for three-point-two minutes.”

“What does all that mean, General?” President Phoenix asked.

“We can fire Skybolt fairly accurately with our own sensors,” Kai explained. “The SBR, or Space-Based Radar, is our primary sensor. Station has two X-band synthetic aperture radars for Earth imaging. We can scan long swaths of Earth in ‘stripmap' mode, or use ‘spotlight' mode to zero in on a target and get precise pictures and measurements, down to a few inches' resolution.

“But because we're shooting at such a great distance, traveling hundreds of miles a minute, for even greater accuracy we can tie into any other sensors that happen to be in the area at the same time,” Kai went on. “USA-234 is a U.S. Air Force radar-imaging satellite that takes radar pictures and transmits them to the National Reconnaissance Office in Washington. We are lucky enough to be a user of the images, so we can request that the satellite focus in on that particular target. We can merge the satellite's images with our own to get a more accurate look at the target.”

Lathrop entered more commands, and on a large monitor to the left of the main monitor there appeared an overhead still photograph of the simulated target, a remote radar site with a large radome in the center, several communications pointed in different directions, and several long, low buildings surrounding the radome. “This is what it looks like in a recent overhead photo,” he said. A few moments later the photo disappeared and was replaced by a different image, this one showing a dot surrounded by an H-shaped box against a mostly black background. “This is the radar image from the reconnaissance satellite. The background is black because snow doesn't reflect radar energy very well, but the buildings show up nicely.”

“Operations, Engineering, MHD is at simulated fifty percent,” Alice reported.

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