Lash-Up

5 Summons

Jane Suzuki was CNN’s lead correspondent in the western Pacific. She was already a household name in the broadcasting field when her coverage of the 2011 Great East Japan Earthquake and Tsunami not only earned her several prestigious journalism awards but also cemented her place in the public consciousness. For many Americans, she was their window into Asia.

For this report on the China-Vietnam crisis, she’d chosen a spot on the plaza in front of the National Diet Building. Most Americans wouldn’t recognize the structure, so she started her broadcast by letting the camera pan over the building and describing it as the Japanese equivalent of the U.S. Capitol.

“And the Japanese government is only one of several Asian powers watching China with growing concern. I’ve spoken not only with the Vietnamese ambassador, who is ‘alarmed,’ in his words, but also the South Korean and Taiwanese representatives here. They all used different words to express their greatest fear: Is this the end of the U.S. security umbrella?

“In the last decade, China’s economy and armed forces have undergone spectacular growth, and her foreign policy has become expansionist, aggressive, almost belligerent. Nobody here in Asia believes that the GPS attacks are an isolated or impulsive action. Earlier I spoke with Professor Eji Watanabe, of the China Study Group, here in Tokyo.”

Watanabe was seated behind his desk, a cluttered bookshelf in the background. His English was heavily accented, and the network had added subtitles. “American military power has dominated East Asia since the end of the Great Pacific War. China wishes to end that, so they create a crisis. First, they concentrate troops to threaten Vietnam. As expected, the U.S. responds by marshaling its own forces in the region as a deterrent. Next, the Chinese reduce U.S. military effectiveness by making bloodless attacks on their GPS satellites. Now, China waits for America to react again.”

The camera panned to include Suzuki in the view. She asked, “But why is China doing this? Why Vietnam?”

Watanabe answered instantly. “Because Vietnam is vulnerable. Her small military is no match for China’s in either size or quality. There’s a history of conflict between the two countries, with invasions during both centuries in the past and as recently as 1979. And that doesn’t include the Chinese seizures of Vietnamese island territories in the South China Sea in 1974 and 1988. But most importantly, Vietnam is not a U.S. ally, so the American commitment to protecting Vietnamese security is nowhere near as strong as if it was, say, Japan or the Philippines.

“The Americans reacted predictably to the Chinese troop concentration by massing their own forces as a counterbalance. But now, because of the loss of their GPS satellites, the American military is weaker and risks greater losses if the U.S and China actually fight.”

The reporter asked, “Is that the Chinese goal, to conquer Vietnam?”

The expert shook his head. “No. The Chinese did not do this to gain territory, although if this dispute goes as they have planned, they will gain Vietnam and much more. By increasing the potential cost in blood for something of marginal interest, China is betting America will turn away and lose face.”

Watanabe continued. “The Chinese wish to replace American military dominance in the region with their own. Economic influence follows from military influence. China doesn’t want a war with the United States. That would be costly for China, even if it wins. Instead, they are taking a page from their own master, Sun Tzu: ‘Hence to fight and conquer in all your battles is not supreme excellence; supreme excellence consists in breaking the enemy’s resistance without fighting.’ If they challenge the United States, and she does not or cannot respond effectively, nations in the region will see China as the new leader in the Pacific.”

Suzuki asked, “Don’t some Asians resent American military dominance anyway?”

Watanabe smiled. “Certainly, but small nations do best when they have powerful friends. America has been an ally and trading partner for over seventy years to Japan, South Korea, Taiwan, and the Philippines. Even nations that are not U.S. allies have benefited from the stable security environment created by America’s military might.” He sighed. “Nobody expects to flourish under a Chinese hegemony, but if American power fades, we will be forced to accept the new situation and adapt.”

He straightened is his chair. “The next move is America’s. What will they do? What can they do? Even doing nothing is a response, but we are all hoping that Washington will act, and act wisely.”

Ray automatically reached for the controller to turn off the TV, but then stopped himself. It was only noise, but he needed to hear other voices. The house was empty. He’d sent out an e-mail two days ago, telling everyone about Admiral Carson’s warning and urging them all to stay away.

Canceling the design sessions went head-on against the urgency he felt, the urgency that had driven him. There was still so much to be done, but continuing to meet would be in open defiance of Carson’s order. The admiral was angry enough to cashier not only Ray but anyone associated with him.

The place seemed dark and empty, although he’d turned on lights all over the house. It was just a typical three-bedroom rambler with a red tile roof, like every other home in Southern California. Ray liked having other people around and was happiest when his home was stuffed to capacity — for a party, a football game, a hearty discussion, or sharing his dream to build Defender.

Reflexively, he started to pick up the place. As busy as they’d been, packing materials from recently purchased computer equipment had been pushed into corners for later disposal. Paper plates and cups, takeout boxes, and empty bottles covered the tables, along with scribbled notes and printouts. Every horizontal surface was equally covered with litter. Many of his walls were heavily adorned with yellow stickies or early versions of Defender’s plans. As crammed and chaotic as his house was during those days and nights when the design team was going full bore, Ray had to admit those were good times. The vacant rooms, with the sound from the TV echoing off the walls, were crushingly depressing.

By rights, he should start breaking down the work-group centers throughout the house. The living room and bedrooms each had chairs clustered around a table with a networked workstation. Even the bedroom he actually used for sleeping had been taken over by the propulsion group, with his bed pushed to one side.

But he couldn’t do it. It would mean abandoning Defender. Carson was just plain wrong, but the man had the power and authority to block any progress. Instead, Ray had to find a way around Carson’s prohibition, somehow change his mind or get him overruled …

The phone rang while he was outside, trying to find more room in a grossly overstuffed recycling bin. The sound surprised him, because after his “stay away” e-mail, he wasn’t expecting any calls. He caught it on the fourth ring.

“Hello.”

“Ray McConnell?” The voice was that of an older man.

“Speaking,” Ray replied.

“Mr. McConnell, this is Vice Admiral Bill Schultz. We have a mutual friend, Jennifer Oh.”

An admiral? Calling him? Ray rooted through his memory, and when the caller mentioned Jenny’s name, made the connection.

“Admiral Schultz? Commander of NAVAIR?” Surprise mixed with curiosity. Schultz was a vice admiral, a three-star flag officer, and outside the SPAWAR chain of command. As one of the navy’s materiel commands, Naval Air Systems Command had frequent contact with Ray’s organization. Still, by contacting him directly, Schultz was completely bypassing the traditional chain of command.

“Ray, I’ve taken a good look at the Defender proposal you and your friends put together. I want you to come out to Washington so we can talk about it.”

Astonished but jubilant, Ray wanted to cheer, then remembered Admiral Carson’s direct order. “That’s really great, sir, but I’m afraid I can’t get any leave…”

Schultz cut him off. “Jenny explained everything. You’ll travel on official government orders; the CNO’s staff has already cut them and made the travel arrangements. The CNO has also spoken with Admiral Carson, so there won’t be any issues with your chain of command.”

Oh … my … God! thought Ray. Carson must be apoplectic. After screaming at Ray that he never wanted to hear about Defender again, it must have been quite the shock when the CNO told him the navy wanted to have a closer look. Ray tried to imagine the various shades of purple that Carson’s face passed through upon hearing the CNO’s instructions.

“Effective immediately, you are on temporary rotational orders to NAVAIR,” continued Schultz. “Everything has been e-mailed to both you and your supervisors. You don’t go back to work until I’m done with you. You’re on a flight out early tomorrow morning, and pack for an extended stay. And of course bring anything you need to make your case for Defender.”

Schultz hung up, and Ray just stood there, processing the news. Things to do and stray thoughts whirled about in his head, and after turning in place twice, he forced himself to stop and prioritize his list. He had plenty of time to pack. He wouldn’t even try to sleep.

But first, he had to call Jenny.

Captain Biff Barnes had paused only long enough to make sure his uniform was perfect before hurrying up two floors and into the E ring. He fought the urge to run. A direct summons to report immediately to the chief of staff of the air force filled him with questions, and some trepidation. He couldn’t remember making any major screwups, so his conscience was clear. Besides, if he’d committed some transgression, any punishment would have been handled by his chain of command. No, Biff was convinced something else was behind this unexpected call from on high.

The Pentagon has not only five sides but also five floors and five rings. The floors are of course numbered, and the rings have letters, going from the innermost, A, to the outer ring, E. Those two rings are the only ones with windows that have anything worth looking out to. The ones on the inner ring face the concrete-walled, five-sided courtyard, while the outer ones actually face the outside world. The coveted E-ring offices are occupied by the higher entities: the secretary and assistant secretary of defense, the service chiefs, and their associated hangers-on.

Biff had to show his badge just to get into the same corridor as the chief of staff’s office, but as the enlisted security guard examined his credentials, a four-star general came down the corridor toward them. The captain braced, and, seeing his reaction, the guard turned and then came to attention as well.

Tall, with salt-and-pepper hair, the general’s stern-looking face broke into an unlikely smile as he waved his hand, telling them, “At ease,” as he reached out to shake Biff’s hand. “Captain Barnes, I’m Clifton Ames.”

As in the vice chief of staff of the air force, Biff thought. He fought the urge to remain at attention and ventured, “Then am I reporting to your office, sir?”

“No, Captain,” the general replied, shaking his head. “We’ll be meeting with General Warner, but not in his office.” Ames set off at a brisk pace, and Barnes followed, automatically falling into step. The general didn’t speak, and Biff held his questions, for the moment.

Ames stopped in front of an unremarkable-looking door and punched in a key code. As the door opened, the general remarked, “You can reset that to your own code, of course.”

What the —

Before Biff could finish that question in his mind, a better one appeared. Why was General Mike “Spike” Warner, Chief of Staff of the Air Force, waiting for him in an empty office? The door closed behind Barnes and Ames, and Biff felt a sense of foreboding, especially when he saw a hard copy of the Defender file lying in front of Warner on the desk.

Warner was younger — well, he looked younger than Ames — and tall, especially for a pilot. No wonder he’d picked bombers. His hair was still jet-black, and the word was that he was as good a politician as he was a pilot.

“Captain,” Warner asked abruptly without an introduction, “did you send the Defender document to General Wissmann at STRATCOM?

“Ah, yes, sir. I met the general while I was in the astronaut program. He was a colonel then, part of the old Space Command…”

“And in your e-mail, you pointed out several issues with the design, but also said they were not insurmountable. You thought” — Warner paused to read from a sheet of paper — “‘It was better than anything else I’d heard of,’ and asked the general about the best way to get the air force to consider Defender.”

Biff could only nod. “Yessir, that’s correct.”

“Well, your idea worked, because General Wissmann sent it to me and said some nice things about you as well. Do you still think that Defender will work?”

“Realistically, it’s the only way to go, sir.” Then he added, “Unless there’s something in the ‘black’ world I’m not aware of.” The armed forces ran a lot of ‘black’ programs, top-secret projects with advanced technology that were shielded from public scrutiny. The F-117 had been one of the most famous; its debut in Desert Storm was dramatic and devastating. Was there one that could deal with this threat?

“Nothing that will help us, I’m afraid.” Warner shook his head, half-musing to himself. “The X-37’s operational, but she was never supposed to be more than a first step. She doesn’t have the payload, in any case.”

Looking at Barnes directly, Warner continued. “Yes, Captain, there is technology in the classified world that would help us — in anywhere from five to twenty years. The Chinese have jumped the gun on us.” He sounded angry.

The general complained. “We should own this crisis, and we just don’t have the tools to deal with it! And now some SPAWAR employee and his buddies in their free time have come up with this, and we’re all taking it seriously?”

Barnes waited for the general to continue. When it appeared he’d run down, the captain offered, “Well, sir, at least he’s former air force.”

Warner laughed, a little grimly, then glanced at the wall clock. “All right, then, Captain. As of now, you are the U.S. Air Force’s point man on the Defender program.”

Barnes answered, “You want me to develop a plan to actually build Defender.” He phrased it carefully, as if testing the concept.

Warner replied, “We’re going to stop the Chinese and protect U.S. space assets by any means necessary.” He gestured to Defender. “Including this. The question’s changed, Captain. It isn’t, ‘Will it work?’ anymore. I’m asking, ‘How do we make it work?’ And you’re going to answer that.”

General Ames added, “I’ve told your boss, Major Pierce, that we’re borrowing you for a few days. You’ll work here, alone, for the time being. The three people in this room are the only ones who know the air force is taking a hard look at Defender. I don’t want to imagine what the media would do if they found out, but it wouldn’t be good. And for heaven’s sake, we can’t let the navy hear about this. If they think we’re treating Defender seriously, they’ll try to stick their oar in the water.” Ames smiled at the metaphor.

Warner said, “There’s a National Security Council meeting in two days. I need a to-do list by then. What are the real problems? You don’t have to solve them all, but we must know if there are any showstoppers before we present this. If we can show them a coherent plan for actually building Defender, and the NSC approves it, I’ll put every resource the air force has behind it.”

He stood, offering the desk to Barnes. As the two generals turned to leave, Warner said, “The face of warfare is changing, and I want the air force to lead the way.”

General Shen Xuesen stood nervously in the launch center. It was hard to maintain the unruffled demeanor his troops needed to see. He needed all of his willpower to look calm and relaxed.

High-level visitors at such a time would make anyone nervous, and they risked being a significant distraction for the launch team. A television crew was unthinkable, and yet there they were. It was a state-run crew, of course, and they were being carefully supervised, but they brought lights and confusion and, worst of all, exposure.

Now they were filming an actual launch. Beijing had even asked if they could film the intercept, but Shen had refused absolutely, on security grounds. He understood the propaganda value of a Tien Lung vehicle smashing a satellite and offered to supply tapes of previous shots. They all looked alike. Who would know?

But the producer wanted shots of activity in the launch center, and the reporter would add his narration. At least the general had been able to avoid an interview, again citing security reasons.

The oval opening erupted in flame, and a dark blur shot upward. Mark Markin’s voice accompanied the video. “Released less than two hours ago, this dramatic footage from Gongga Shan Mountain in China shows the launch of a Tien Lung, or Celestial Dragon.” Markin’s voice continued as the scene shifted to a more distant shot. The mountaintop, a rugged texture of browns, was capped by a small white cloud of smoke that lingered in the still morning air.

“That is their name for the spacecraft, or ‘ASAT vehicle,’ as U.S. officials describe the weapon. They also confirmed the destruction of another GPS satellite just a short time ago, the time of loss consistent with the launch shown here.

“This footage was released through Xinhua, China’s official news agency. The narrator claimed that China had now demonstrated military superiority over the United States and that their superiority had halted American aggression in the region.”

The mountaintop and its fading smoke were replaced by a computer-drawn representation of the gun, angled upward inside a transparent mountain.

“Intelligence officials here believe that the gun is based on the work of Dr. Gerald Bull, a Canadian engineer who fiercely advocated using large guns to launch spacecraft into orbit. To further his goal, he developed large artillery pieces, at first for scientific purposes with the U.S. and Canadian governments. When funding for those programs ended, he worked for the South Africans developing advanced long-range artillery, then for communist China, and finally the Iraqis under Saddam Hussein.

“In return for improving the ballistics of Iraq’s Scud missiles, Hussein financed Bull’s idea for Project Babylon, a gun that would launch satellites into space. The full-sized design was to be one hundred fifty meters long and had a one-meter bore. That program ended with Bull’s assassination in 1990, likely by the Israelis.

“The Chinese experimented in January 1995 with their own supergun near the Taiwan Strait. Experts have already pointed out many similarities between Bull’s Babylon guns, the first Chinese weapon, and the current Dragon Gun.”

Computer animation showed the process of loading the projectile, the launch, and sabots falling away from the projectile before a rocket booster fired.

The animation disappeared, replaced with Markin, an image of a GPS satellite behind him. “This brings the number of GPS satellites known to have been destroyed by China to a minimum of five. Unsubstantiated rumors suggest the total is more likely seven satellites destroyed. While American officials have wondered publicly about how many Tien Lung vehicles the Chinese can build, China threatened during the broadcast to destroy the entire GPS constellation unless ‘America abandoned its plans for Pacific hegemony.’”

General Warner had made sure the office was fully supplied, and Barnes had started work immediately. To avoid questions, he hadn’t even returned to his own desk. There were a few personal items he’d retrieve later, after everyone had gone home, but he didn’t need them to work on Defender.

He was already familiar with the design, and even remembered a few rough spots that were going to require some research, but while his mind leapt ahead, spurred by urgency, he forced himself to organize a proper study of each subsystems group: space frame, propulsion, life support, and of course weapons. He really wanted to start there, but when he thought about it dispassionately, weapons were just cargo. First things first: the thing had to fly.

Luckily, Lockheed Martin had done most of the heavy lifting when they designed VentureStar. It had been designed as a reusable single-stage-to-orbit vehicle. No expendable boosters, and, like the shuttle, it was good for more than one flight — potentially hundreds. It was what most people imagined when they heard the word “spaceship,” but it was still at the ragged leading edge of human technology.

Like the shuttle, VentureStar was intended to be a “space truck,” hauling heavy cargoes to orbit and landing like an aircraft. Her revolutionary Aerospike engines were powerful enough to lift her into orbit without boosters, and she was a lighter, more efficient design. The shuttle had been built in the sixties and seventies. VentureStar was at least twenty years newer.

Barnes’s study quickly led him to what had caused the VentureStar’s cancellation. The biggest problem had been the composite cryogenic fuel tanks, new technology that made NASA decide it was too expensive to continue the program. But Lock Mart had continued to develop the fuel-tank technology on its own dime and appeared to have found a solution.

Of course they hadn’t applied the fix to the VentureStar prototype, which was mothballed at a storage facility at Edwards Air Force Base. It was ninety-five percent complete, according to what he could find out, although it was only “eighty-five percent assembled.” Biff lost a little time finding out that while some parts had been fabricated, they hadn’t been integrated with the space frame yet.

That was fine. He’d built kits as a kid. This was just bigger and a whole lot more complicated. With really expensive glue.

At least there weren’t any hydraulics. Everything was done with electric motors — the landing gear, control surfaces, everything. Eliminating an entire system like that simplified the design and saved a lot of weight. It was just a good idea when they designed VentureStar, but it was vital now.

While he studied the individual systems and made notes, a question kept pushing into his mind from the side. It wasn’t his first priority, but if he did come up with a plan, the next question would be, How soon? General Warner would expect at least a rough timeline.

Barnes added “power” to the list of systems. VentureStar burned liquid hydrogen and oxygen, which was nice because it could then use fuel cells to generate electricity, since the cells also used hydrogen and oxygen. And their output was water, which could be used by the life-support system.

But while McConnell’s fuel cells were state-of-the-art, in his work Barnes had seen new fuel-cell technology that increased energy efficiency from sixty percent to over eighty percent. They were new, and expensive, so they hadn’t been adopted commercially, but for this application they were worth it. Fewer cells meant saving critical weight, but he hadn’t looked at the power requirements yet …

By one in the morning, he knew enough about Defender to go home and sleep, after stopping off at his old office. He ignored a note on his desk from Major Pierce telling Biff to call him ASAP. It would be better if explanations came from someone with stars on their shoulders. He didn’t even consider pulling an all-nighter. He had all day tomorrow to work on the plan.

Unmarried, Biff lived in a two-bedroom apartment in Crystal City, right off the Metro. He didn’t have to risk his beloved Porsche in Pentagon traffic or fight for a parking spot. Two levels belowground, covered snugly, it waited patiently for the next weekend drive to Ohio or North Carolina or Connecticut. The challenge was finding two different routes, there and back, and of course doing it in as little time as possible.

On the way back to his apartment, Biff thought about Defender and Ray McConnell. Normally, one of his first phone calls would have been to the guy who created Defender, but that was out of the question — he worked for the navy, and Barnes had been specifically ordered to keep their sister service in the dark. For the same reason, he hadn’t called Lockheed Martin, although there were many questions he’d like to ask them. Biff had started a list, for those two and others.

McConnell was evidently a great organizer, and he wasn’t afraid to push a good idea. Putting it on SIPRNET had taken some courage. He had to be an aerospace engineer of some sort, and probably at a senior level. Biff hoped he’d be able to meet McConnell some day, possibly soon. It would be interesting.