Drone Command

NINE

The twin-hulled catamaran raced across the water at thirty knots, a decent speed for a sixty-foot-long research boat. Clear sky and calm waters made for a perfect demonstration day.

Pearce stood on the high rear deck behind the tinted-window wheelhouse. He could feel the pulsating diesel engines in the soles of his feet. The open deck offered a 270-degree view of the empty sea-lanes on all sides. Standing next to Pearce admiring the view was Vice Admiral Sanji Hara of the JMSDF, dressed in blue digital camouflage and dragging on a cigarette. The short, barrel-chested Hara was an outspoken proponent for constitutional reform and naval rearmament, one of the few JMSDF flag officers to openly side with the Ito administration on these controversial issues. His recently published best-selling book, The Rise of the Red Khans, warned against China’s insatiable territorial ambitions, chronicling its ancient lust to possess the Japanese islands since the time of the Mongol empire. Winning him over to Lane’s perspective would be a real coup.

Clutching the rail next to Hara was the very tall and soft-spoken Dr. Nitobe Ikeda, director of NEDO, the Japanese version of DARPA. Ikeda rose through the ranks of a research department in one of Japan’s largest technology conglomerates before accepting the NEDO directorship. Reviving the Japanese economy in the face of its impending demographic winter was foremost in Ikeda’s mind, according to the dossier Pearce read.

Myers and Tanaka finished out the complement of guests for today’s demonstration. The weather, at least, was cooperating. Towering cumulus clouds sailed like dreadnoughts across a sunny blue sky. The catamaran’s powerful diesel engines churned up a sparkling white wake in the deep blue water behind them. A sealed launch tube angled up from the center of the otherwise uncluttered wheelhouse deck.

“Carolina Blonde?” Myers asked. She flashed a mischievous smile. “Must be quite a story.” She didn’t know much about Pearce’s former love life, but Cella was one of the most beautiful women she’d ever met, not to mention rich and brilliant. She’d seen her up close, admired her medical skill and personal courage. Knew all about her history with Pearce, too. Also knew the Italian doctor refused to follow him back to the United States. She was a closed chapter in his life, but no doubt there were many others like her in his past. That would make for an interesting read, she imagined.

Pearce shrugged, feigning innocence. He was glad Myers was comfortable enough with him to tease him. “Kenji named the boat, not me. You’d have to ask him.” Dr. Kenji Yamada was one of his closest friends, but the illustrious marine scientist was a notorious rake.

“A beautiful day for a boat ride, Mr. Pearce,” Tanaka said. “I don’t suppose you brought along any fishing gear?”

Pearce smiled. “No such luck.” Pearce wished he had. He was as familiar with a fishing rod as he was with an assault rifle. He’d used both all over the world. Unfortunately, catching fish wasn’t on the agenda today. At least not the kind that swim under the water.

“My grandfather took me out on his fishing boat when I was a small child,” Hara said. “I’ve sailed these waters for over sixty years now.”

“The Japanese people are always nostalgic for the sea, even if they have never sailed in a boat,” Ikeda said. Pearce leaned forward to hear him better, his gentle voice barely above a whisper. “We are an island nation. The ocean is our past and our future. Nearly everything we buy or sell sails across the waters.”

“Which is why we need a powerful navy to defend the sea-lanes,” Hara grunted. “A true blue-water navy.”

“The admiral is correct,” Tanaka said. “The United States became a great economic power because it acquired great naval power, and it became a naval power because it was bordered by oceans just as we are.”

Myers and Pearce exchanged a furtive glance. It was going to be a long day.

“The United States Navy is committed to the concept of open sea-lanes for everybody, especially our ally, Japan,” Myers said.

“And our navy is undergoing its own technological changes. I hope to show you the future of naval warfare today,” Pearce said.

Admiral Hara spun around, gazing up into the sky. “When will we see these drones of yours, Mr. Pearce? The morning is getting late.”

“Funny you should ask, Admiral.”

The other Japanese instantly raised their eyes, scanning the skies. Nothing. But Hara’s eyes, conditioned by years of keeping watch, spotted something on the water in the distance to the north. He pulled his binoculars to his eyes. “A surface vessel, ten to twelve meters in length, coming in fast, straight toward us. Sixty knots at least.”

Ikeda pointed excitedly to the east. “Another boat. Also coming fast.”

Tanaka called out two more, from the south and west.

The camouflaged vessels ran so fast that half of their mono hulls were out of the water, waking like drug-running cigarette boats screaming across the Gulf of Mexico. “Chinese warships!” Tanaka called out. “What are they doing here? These are Japanese waters!”

Pearce’s catamaran was only a few miles off the southwestern coast of Japan, far closer to South Korea than the Chinese mainland.

The four boats sped furiously toward their ship. They were clearly on a collision course.

“Pearce! Take evasive action!” Hara barked.

“I’m no sailor, Admiral. I’m a grunt.”

“Tell your captain!”

“Please, be my guest.” Pearce nodded at the door to the wheelhouse. He hadn’t given his guests a tour of the boat.

Hara charged over to the door and flung it open. He whipped around.

“There’s no crew!”

“No, I guess there isn’t.”

Tanaka’s eyes narrowed. Ikeda laughed.

“Troy—” Myers tugged on Pearce’s arm. The speeding boats were less than a hundred yards away, their roaring engines rattled the air. Just seconds to impact.

Pearce smiled at her. “What?”

At the last possible second, each boat veered just enough to pass the catamaran fore and aft, port and starboard, spraying the deck with water. The catamaran’s twin hulls sliced through the checkerboard of frothy wakes they left behind.

The Japanese ran to the rails, watching them each turn in a synchronous clover leaf.

“No pilots,” Tanaka observed.

“Those are Katanas. One of the latest autonomous surface vehicles. They’re fitted with anticollision software, so we were never in any danger. And, of course, we can take control of them at any time.”

“Impressive,” Ikeda said.

The admiral grunted skeptically.

The Katanas took up positions one hundred yards directly north, south, east, and west of the catamaran, assuming the identical speed of the much larger vessel.

“Our vessel is designated as a mother ship. The Katanas are synced with our control center. If needed, we could designate one of the Katanas as the mother ship or transfer control to an entirely different vehicle — air, land, sea.”

“Why only four Katanas?” Hara asked.

“Just a convenient number for the demonstration today. In practice, you could sync dozens, even hundreds of ASVs together, depending on your computing and bandwidth capacities. Swarming algorithms give them independent combat-decision capabilities as well. And, of course, almost any manned vessel can be converted into an ASV.”

“What is the advantage of deploying a mother ship?” Tanaka asked.

“If you want to operate continuously in open waters with smaller vessels like the Katanas, they’ll need regular refueling, restocking of weapons, and maintenance. Also, the Katanas are multimission platforms. A mother ship can store a variety of weapons and surveillance systems, and hot swap them out as mission requirements change. Missiles, machine guns, cannons, you name it.”

“But you have no crew!”

“In real-time combat, this vessel would have a full complement of human crew to carry out the tasks that automated systems still can’t accomplish. But for today, it’s just us. Please, follow me.”

Pearce led the group into the wheelhouse where, ironically, there was no wheel. A single captain’s chair with joysticks affixed to each arm sat empty in front of the command console — a bank of sonar, radar, and video monitors — along with communications gear and other sensors. Not all of them were active.

Pearce pointed at the captain’s chair. “Admiral, if you would do us the honors.”

The admiral fought back a grin as he mounted the chair. Pearce pressed a button on the command console. “You have the helm.”

The admiral gently gripped the joysticks as he scanned the gauges and monitors in front of him.

“Feel free to maneuver the vessel. She’s very responsive.”

The admiral worked the joysticks. The catamaran made a decisive port turn.

“Please observe the Katanas,” Pearce said. He pointed at the radar screen.

The Katanas moved in sync with the catamaran. Hara made another turn, sped up, slowed down. The ASVs matched him move for move. Myers noted the wicked Gatling guns affixed to the decks of each Katana.

Hara grunted his approval.

Pearce said, “I’m taking control of the helm.” He pressed the button again, and the joysticks went limp in Hara’s hands. The Carolina Blonde returned to autopilot and resumed its course.

“How does this vessel know where to go when it’s on autopilot?” Myers asked.

“Think of it like a Google car. All you have to do is set the GPS coordinates and the ship will do the rest, utilizing all of the same data points that a human captain would — weather, tides, winds, other vessels, you name it.”

“So you are dependent on satellite systems? What if the Chinese deploy their ASAT weaponry? Knock them out of space?” Hara asked.

The upper deck exploded on Pearce’s command with a rush of air as the pneumatic launch tube thrust a Switchblade drone into the sky. The command console’s HD video monitor instantly kicked on. The catamaran and the four Katanas appeared on the screen in real time, wakes trailing their hulls.

“An aerial drone like the one above us now can be used for visual navigation or as a comm link to other vessels with satellite access. A drone like a Global Hawk could be used as an AWACS platform, too. UAVs and AAVs can also be linked to form comm networks if necessary, and high-altitude drones can perform like satellites. In other words, GPS is great, but it’s not absolutely necessary to function.”

Ikeda nodded approvingly. “This is exactly the direction NEDO is taking. We firmly believe that the future of commercial oceangoing trade will be vast fleets of automated container vessels, both above and below the water.” He turned to Tanaka and the admiral. “With all due respect, Japan’s economic future will be better served by a buildup of our commercial robotics capabilities, not combat vessels.”

Tanaka’s eyes narrowed. He turned to Pearce. “Dr. Ikeda was a compromise choice to head up NEDO. Some of us wanted it to follow the DARPA model, pursuing advanced technology to solve complex defense problems. Unfortunately, our party was forced to make an alliance with the NKP, and one of our concessions was Dr. Ikeda.”

Ikeda nodded. “The NKP is a Buddhist party, Mr. Pearce. We are much more pacifist than some of the militarists in the LDP.” His soft voice now carried a biting edge. “We believe the purpose of NEDO is to pursue peaceful civilian applications of advanced technology. We are not opposed if some of those technologies have purely defensive applications. But war is never the solution to any problem.”

Hara grunted again. “That depends on who starts the war. Who do you think will have more problems if the North Koreans decide to smash Tokyo with their nuclear missiles? Or Fukushima? Us or them?”

Tanaka barked at Ikeda in Japanese. Pearce assumed it was a blue streak. Hara jumped in. Ikeda’s whispery voice rose to a near yell against Hara’s sharp staccato tirade.

Pearce felt a headache coming on. He warned Lane he was no politician. Not only had he not won them over to the president’s point of view, now they were screaming at one another. He’d spent months setting up the demonstration. Begged favors from every vendor he did business with, twisted the arms of those he didn’t. Even convinced a highly reluctant U.S. Navy to part with some of its most closely guarded tech to try to pull off today’s mission.

Myers saw the frustration in Pearce’s eyes. His demonstration was clearly failing. A massive Japanese naval armament program would likely lead to war with the Chinese. If Pearce could convince Hara, Tanaka, and Ikeda that drones were a viable third way, war with China might be both avoided and prevented.

Pearce’s eyes pleaded with Myers. You’re the politician. Fix this.

“Gentlemen, please. I believe there is something else to see,” Myers said.

“Apologies, Madame President,” Ikeda said. “But perhaps I have seen enough. Your autonomous capabilities are impressive, but those Katanas are still vessels of war. My agency is only interested in peaceful commercial technologies.”

“If the sea-lanes are closed by Chinese warships, you won’t have any commerce!” Hara said. “For that, we need our own powerful fleets.”

“There are other ways to defend the sea-lanes than building new missile cruisers and aircraft carriers,” Myers insisted. “Drone systems like the Katana can be deployed for convoy escorts, antisubmarine warfare, mine sweeping, surveillance—”

“But these are still military operations in which people will be killed,” Ikeda said. “Preparation for war inevitably leads to war. A man with a hammer always looks for a nail.”

Myers nodded sympathetically. “I understand your perspective, Dr. Ikeda, but imagine deploying Katanas as escorts against pirates for vessels delivering emergency food supplies to places like Somalia. Or patrolling drone ships could be used for search-and-rescue operations, or drug and smuggling interdiction. And drone vehicles like these could deploy nonlethal sonic technologies like LRAD sound cannons or other crowd-control devices. Painful, yes, but not fatal.”

Pearce was grateful Myers was here today. They made a good team.

Pearce turned to Hara. “Drone vessels would be cheaper, faster, and more efficient in a wide variety of deployments, combat or commercial. My company develops systems for both, but my expertise is in the security area. Unmanned systems will protect the lives of sailors who would otherwise be put in harm’s way. Autonomous and unmanned systems are not only an alternative to conventional weapons systems, they are also the future of combat.”

“And commerce.” Myers smiled at Ikeda. “I admire NEDO’s emphasis on commercial applications. I’m the CEO of my own software-engineering firm. I appreciate the importance of business. We seldom fight wars, but we conduct business every day, don’t we?”

Ikeda nodded. “Exactly. And war is not necessary! But economic growth is vital to the nation.”

“I agree. In the long run, robotics and other automated systems will prove to be even more disruptive in business affairs than they will in the military sphere. Military drones, however, will help prevent the wars that will allow commerce to prosper, and if needed, fight them, too.”

The admiral’s face darkened. “The Japan Maritime Self Defense Force is legally not allowed to have a navy. Our ships are only used for defense. But that is precisely our problem. We must absorb the blows of the red giant until he exhausts himself. That is not a strategy for surviving a war, let alone winning one. But thanks to the leadership of patriots like Vice Minister Tanaka, that might soon change. A powerful fleet is our best defense against Chinese aggression. I don’t see how your little toy boats can provide enough offensive power to counter the Chinese navy.”

“These ‘toy boats,’ as you call them, are just one example of what ASV technology can achieve. But for now, let’s see what the Katanas might be able to do. Please look at the radar screen. I’m extending the range of the radar unit.”

A new blip appeared on the screen a quarter mile away. “That’s a solar-powered surface drone. It’s currently used to measure water temperature. But for now, let’s pretend it’s a Chinese patrol boat.”

Pearce approached the radar screen. He tapped the blip, then pressed a button on the console.

The twin 560-horsepower engines on each of the Katanas erupted into full power, throwing rooster tails of water behind them.

“Please watch the video feed.”

Myers, Tanaka, and Hara hunched over the screen. Ikeda stepped back from the group, sulking. Nobody noticed the catamaran’s deck had stopped vibrating. The Carolina Blonde was slowing down.

Within moments, the four Katanas swarmed the small orange research vessel, flat like the solar panels that powered it, floating on the ocean surface. Four Gatling guns opened up and shredded the flimsy device in less than a second. The gunfire echoed over the water as the boats turned to resume their picket stations.

“Not much of an attack or a target, I grant you, but you can begin to see the power of fully autonomous swarming. The computers can make faster tactical decisions than a human can. And in a gunfight, the fastest draw always wins.”

“And if the Chinese deployed drone swarms against us?” Tanaka asked.

“There are counterswarming algorithms, too. Also, AAVs and ASVs can coordinate their swarm and counterswarm attacks from the air and water.”

“One of the greatest threats the Chinese possess are their diesel submarines. How can drones combat them? They are becoming increasingly difficult to find and track,” Tanaka asked.

“And the Chinese have now begun long-range Pacific patrols with their Jin-class fleet, also difficult to detect.” Hara had been briefed by the U.S. Navy. China’s newest nuclear submarines carried JL-2 SLBMs with a forty-five-hundred-mile range. If launched from the Western Pacific, those nuclear-tipped missiles could strike deep into the continental United States. The Jin-class ballistic missile submarines were now China’s most lethal nuclear threat.

Pearce reached over to the blank sonar screen and tapped it. It came alive. A sonar signature appeared a thousand yards behind them. “Looks like we’re being tracked by a submarine right now.”

Hara and Tanaka blanched.

“Please follow me to the rear deck.” Pearce led the way. Ikeda came, too, with Myers right behind him. They all reached the broad lower deck on the fantail just as a trihulled trimaran AUV broke the surface. The Carolina Blonde slowed to a crawl.

“That, gentlemen, is the Leidos ACTUV, the antisubmarine warfare continuous trail umanned vessel. It can track a submarine for thousands of miles continuously up to ninety days — longer in the future — by deploying electro-optical sensors, hydro-acoustics, pattern-recognition software for navigation, and both short- and long-range radar. Imagine a fleet of those deployed at the mouth of every Chinese submarine base, and another ACTUV fleet in reserve to relieve each of them, handing off the tracks. You’d never lose sight of another Chinese submarine, including the Jin-class boomers.”

Pearce turned to Ikeda. “You and my good friend Dr. Kenji Yamada will be glad to know these vessels limit the use of their sonar to avoid harm to marine animals like whales. In fact, our company has already been deploying AUVs similar to this one to track whale pods as they migrate around the globe.”

Tanaka pointed at the ACTUV. It remained a thousand yards back. “Does that thing have torpedoes?”

“Not that particular unit. But, of course, the same AUV technologies can be applied to fully armed attack subs and ballistic-missile submarines.” Pearce glanced at Ikeda. “Research submarines, too.”

“It’s all very impressive, Mr. Pearce,” Ikeda said. “But please tell us, if drones are the future of warfare, why is your own Pentagon cutting back on drone programs?”

Ikeda’s ingratiating smile was starting to annoy Pearce. He was right, though. Too many fighter jocks and sub drivers felt threatened by unmanned systems. He glanced at Myers again. Bail me out.

“Some of our generals believe that drone warfare is not as suitable for some of the missions they are currently planning for, and so they are shifting resources to other kinds of programs. But the U.S. Navy is still fully committed to systems like the X-47B.” Myers was referring to the bat-winged, carrier-based unmanned aircraft, part of the UCLASS drone development program. Privately, she worried the navy was loading the X-47B up with so many noncombat mission responsibilities that it would lose its effectiveness as a UCAV — an unmanned combat aerial vehicle, it’s original mission design.

Hara sucked air through his teeth, pulled his cap off, and rubbed the back of his head, thinking. “I’m still not convinced, but it was a good try. You Americans always know how to put on a good show.”

“Well, thanks, Admiral. I always try to entertain the troops. If you don’t mind my asking, what is it that still bothers you?”

“To tell you the truth, I just don’t believe you.” The fully stopped catamaran rocked in the gentle swells. The Katanas had stopped moving, too, naturally. They bobbed a hundred yards away on the four points of the compass.

“What don’t you believe?”

“All of these devices you demonstrated today. They are very impressive in peacetime. Nothing is at stake. But if we were truly at war right now? Where would you rather be standing? On a ten-thousand-ton guided-missile cruiser or on some plastic drone tub like this one?” Hara stomped on the deck with the sole of his combat boot for effect.

“That’s a fair question, sir.” Pearce motioned for Hara and the others to join him at the rail as he pressed a remote-control unit in his hand, activating a sonar pulse from an antenna on the bottom of the catamaran’s port hull.

“I value my hide and prefer to let machines do the dangerous stuff.” Pearce motioned toward the water. Everyone glanced in the direction he pointed.

“For the sake of argument, Admiral, let’s pretend for a moment that my ‘drone tub’ is a ten-thousand-ton steel cruiser.”

The catamaran jolted as the surface of the water broke violently. A five-foot-diameter sphere burst into view just ten feet away from the catamaran like a breaching whale. The bright red sphere bobbed in the waves but remained in place, obviously tethered.

“That’s our latest prototype of an upwardly falling payload. If that sphere was loaded with high explosives, it would function like a mine and explode, sinking our cruiser. Of course, a UFP can carry a wide variety of conventional, nuclear, biological, or chemical payloads. Each equally destructive.”

“These UFPs can be stationed almost anywhere on the ocean floor, hidden and easily activated autonomously or on command, transforming the ocean floor into a kind of missile range, taking out any submarine or surface vessel that passes within range,” Myers said. “And their cost is extremely low compared to the larger manned systems they’re designed to take out.”

“And so you would weaponize the entire ocean floor with these bombs?” Ikeda asked.

“Not necessarily. A UFP can have nonlethal applications as well. High-powered microwave payloads or even chemical EMPs could fry electronic components. In the case of our ‘missile cruiser,’ HPMs and EMPs would disable the missiles before they launched rather than sinking the cruiser itself. That way, you’re killing warheads, not sailors.”

Hara and Ikeda turned back toward the giant red sphere, still hotly debating.

Tanaka approached Pearce. “A most impressive demonstration today. Quite enlightening. But, I’m afraid, unconvincing to my colleagues or myself.”

“It’s not just a show. The fact is, the nation that leads in drone technologies will be the safest and most prosperous in the coming decades.”

“You were full of surprises today,” Tanaka added. “Perhaps you will indulge me in a surprise of my own?”

Pearce hated surprises. In his experience, surprises had a way of getting people killed. But he’d put off the powerful politician for a few days to carry out his ad hoc Vietnam assignment. Myers explained that Tanaka was offended by the delay in the demonstration, so Pearce knew he couldn’t offend him again.

“Yes, of course. I love surprises.”

Pearce wanted to kick himself. He hated lying. But the mission called for it.

Maybe he was becoming a politician after all.