Drone Command

TWENTY-ONE

Admiral Ji, commander of the East Sea Fleet, stood twenty feet above the carrier flight deck on the open-air observation deck of the Liaoning’s superstructure for an unobstructed view of today’s flight operations. The air thundered with the roar of turbofan jets and stank of jet fuel despite the buffeting South China Sea winds.

Ji stood next to Admiral Deng Zilong, the commander of the South Sea Fleet. Admiral Ji was only an observer of today’s exercises, since China’s only operational aircraft carrier was technically under Deng’s command. But the two men were former shipmates, old friends, and, most important, allies in a cause greater than themselves. Like Ji, Deng believed President Sun’s anticorruption reforms were too little too late. The Communist Party’s corruption and ineptitude threatened the very legitimacy of the state and the Party. Failure to forcefully and decisively resolve the ongoing Uyghur rebellion, the latest Hong Kong protests, or the reunification with Taiwan threatened China’s hard-won unity. They both fervently believed that only a corps of uncorrupted military officers led by the unwavering Admiral Ji could prevent China from falling into prerevolutionary chaos and return her to greatness in the twenty-first century. Standing next to Ji was Captain Augusto Da Costa of the Brazilian Navy. He served as a liaison to the PLAN and as a consultant in naval air operations. Da Costa was the former commander of Brazil’s only aircraft carrier, the French-built Clemenceau-class São Paulo.

A turbofan jet screamed as it went full power.

“Gentlemen, you are about to witness history,” Deng said.

The catapult fired. A Lijian (Sharp Sword) unmanned combat vehicle rocketed forward. A second later, the black delta-winged aircraft bolted off the ski-jump forward flight deck and screamed into the sky.

The flight deck crews in their color-coded uniforms exploded with cheers and applause.

The Chinese admirals grinned and shook each other’s hands, as well as the Brazilian’s.

“Congratulations, Admiral,” Da Costa said in heavily accented English. “It is a new world today.”

“Thank you, Captain. Your government has been instrumental in our success. China will not forget your friendship.”

The swarthy Brazilian nodded his appreciation. His people had been circumnavigating the globe for five centuries since the Portuguese explorer Magellan first sailed around the world and the tiny Iberian nation became the first global superpower — a naval superpower — founding colonies all over Africa, Asia, and Latin America, including his own native country. The Chinese-Brazilian military connection was a natural one. The BRIC nations — Brazil, Russia, India, and China — were the four largest developing economies in the world, rapidly gaining on the declining West. They shared many interests, including escaping the economic imperialism and political domination of Europe and the United States. In recent years, they had strengthened their political and economic ties; military relations quickly followed.

“There it is,” Ji said, binoculars pulled tightly to his eyes. “Two-hundred-eighty degrees, about five kilometers up.”

The other officers turned their binoculars in the same direction.

“I see it,” Da Costa said. “Amazing!”

“Once again, the Americans have given away their advantage,” Deng shouted in the stiff breeze.

“As Americans usually do,” Ji said, grinning.

Deng was right. The Americans were the first to successfully launch an unmanned vehicle from a carrier deck. The Northrop Grumman X-47B was also a delta-winged carrier-based jet aircraft. Originally intended to be a true unmanned combat aerial vehicle (UCAV), the X-47B would have carried the latest air-to-air missiles and stealth technology for air superiority combat missions. But the U.S. Navy changed the X-47B’s mission profile to UCLASS, an unmanned carrier-launched surveillance and strike system designed for antiterror operations in low-threat environments. Essentially turning the X-47B from a world-class automated fighter into a glorified Predator.

The Chinese weren’t about to make that mistake. Ji understood that lethal autonomous robotics — LARs — were the future of drone combat. The Americans were fools. Just one more reason for Ji to loathe them. He’d been raised by his mother to hate the Americans with every fiber of his being. His father, an army major, was killed fighting U.S. Marines during the Korean War. An unforgivable sin in his mother’s home.

A second Sharp Sword rolled into launch position as the first UCAV made the landing approach for the deck.

“A completely autonomous landing?” Da Costa asked, still incredulous.

“The entire flight plan is run by the computer,” Deng confirmed. “The next step in the program is combat operations.” Deng wondered if the Chinese cyberwarfare specialists who had managed to steal so many American defense secrets had been able to pilfer any combat software yet. The Americans spent tens of billions of dollars developing new systems like the X-47B and yet allowed the Chinese to steal them for free. It was no accident that the Sharp Sword looked nearly identical to the American UCAV.

A loudspeaker croaked in Chinese above their heads. Ji translated for Da Costa. “Prepare for landing!”

The approaching Sharp Sword lined up toward the angled retrieval deck, dropping its gear. Today the fighter carried no weapons, but if the next few days of testing proved successful, that would change. Moments later, the wheels kissed the runway. The drone’s tailhook snagged the third arresting wire and the Sharp Sword screeched to a halt. Again, the crew burst out in applause. The most dangerous moment in a naval aviator’s life outside of combat was the carrier landing. Even in good conditions, it was a hazardous undertaking. At night, in poor weather, or extreme sea conditions, it was nearly impossible for all but the most skilled aviators. The Liaoning had lost several manned aircraft in the last few years during such landings. Hardly unusual given that China was still learning how to run carrier operations. The advent of the Sharp Sword would accelerate their progress exponentially in the decade to come. Even America’s manned F-35C, the carrier-based version of the Joint Strike Fighter, was designed around a JPALS system, utilizing GPS and navigational software for “hands off” approaches and landings in inclement weather and adverse conditions.

But UCAVs had other advantages over manned aircraft. Like other manned systems, a significant amount of weight and technology was devoted to pilot safety and survival. Humans were incredibly fragile, particularly in combat environments. Humans required sleep, food, waste elimination, and even oxygen at high altitudes. Human pilots could also panic, become distracted or fatigued, or suffer wounds in flight operations, causing them to hesitate or falter while making crucial combat decisions. Decision delays of just fractions of a second could cost the pilot his life — or worse, the air battle or even the war — as fragile, imperfect humans in heavier aircraft competed with emotionless, faultless UCAVs flying far beyond human endurance at faster speeds, traveling longer distances, making sharper turns, executing coordinated swarming maneuvers, and firing larger numbers of missiles at their human counterparts.

A light flashed on the weatherproof phone-console panel attached to the rail. Deng picked it up. Listened. Handed the phone to Ji. “For you, Admiral.”

Ji thanked him and took the call. Ji nodded, smiled. “Excellent.” He listened further. His face darkened. “Yes, just as we discussed. You have it on my authority.” He hung up the phone.

Deng narrowed his eyes, a question. Problem?

Ji shook his head imperceptibly and offered a small reassuring smile. No. Everything was proceeding exactly according to plan.