Lash-Up

6 In Decision

Ray McConnell closed the window with the news feed on his tablet and put his head back against the seat, shaking it in frustration. Usually, he liked winning a good debate, but he wasn’t reveling in the prospect that he was right this time. Ray knew that those “American officials,” the talking heads spewing their nonsense on the cable news programs, were indulging in wishful thinking. China’s space program had a good base of design and operational experience. The kill vehicle, the Tien Lung, was not trivial, but it was well within their capabilities. The GPS satellites were completely unprotected and had only the most limited ability to maneuver. From a technical viewpoint, it wasn’t a problem.

And logically, if the Chinese leadership had committed themselves to this premeditated confrontation, would they only have a handful of bullets for their gun? I’d have dozens stockpiled, and factories making more, Ray mused.

It was bad news, although it helped strengthen his case.

He said it again. His case. Schultz had called him from Washington last night, telling him to come out ASAP, on navy orders. Sitting in his house, still depressed about his meeting with Carson, Schultz’s call had struck him like lightning. Ray hadn’t known what to think or hope.

He’d then spent most of the night trying to organize the jumble of material that represented the Defender design. If Schultz wanted to talk about Defender, he’d want to see more than just the document that had been circulated on the net. There was a lot of supporting information behind the team’s initial work, but in the rush to get the basic document produced, they’d planned to put together the supporting annexes “later.”

And an admiral wanted to see it. Correction, at least two admirals wanted to see it. The CNO was also directly involved. Ray knew he had a lot of work to do. He’d seen enough Pentagon briefings to know what was expected. Ray finally quit at 5:00 A.M. and took a taxi to the airport. He could sleep on the plane.

Waiting at the gate, Ray dashed off an apologetic e-mail to Jake Olsen, explaining what he could and promising to make it up to his deputy somehow. Ray was pretty sure it would take something more than a fruit basket.

Rudy White wouldn’t find out about Ray’s absence until he came into work at seven thirty. Although Ray had official orders authorizing his travel, Rudy would still not be happy. Fortunately, Ray’s flight would be an hour in the air by the time his supervisor read his e-mail.

At the gate, Ray fidgeted, impatient and distracted. He typed, of course, trying to organize the thoughts crowding into his mind, but he kept checking the clock. It moved at an agonizingly slow pace.

Finally, it was time to board and then take off, but he found he still couldn’t relax. Ray realized that his stress had nothing to do with the flight, or the design, but with the thought of Defender actually becoming real. He’d been so emotionally braced for failure that he hadn’t prepared for success. It was time to start looking forward.

Ray paused to think about what it would mean for him personally. If Defender flew, it would, of course, mean professional validation. But would the powers that be let him be part of the program in some way? He was pretty sure he’d need a new job. His prospects at SPAWAR were problematic, even if Defender succeeded.

Once they were at altitude, Ray opened his tablet and continued to work and, now, plan for the future. Sleep was impossible. Thanks to Schultz’s call, the odds of Defender being built had improved from “slim” to “small.” Ray wanted to make them even better.

Triggered by a keyword search, the news broadcast had popped up, interrupting his work, but he’d welcomed the information. It reminded him what this was all about.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is the pilot. We’ve just received word that Air Traffic Control has rescheduled our arrival into Dulles to five forty-five instead of four thirty-eight this afternoon. There’s no problem with the weather, but, because of the recent problems with the GPS system, they’ve just announced they’ll be spacing aircraft farther apart near the airports, as a precaution. United apologizes for the delay. Passengers with connecting flights…”

Ray smiled. For once, he was glad for the extra time in the air.

Outside baggage claim, a balding man in his fifties, not particularly tall, was holding a sign that read, “McConnell, R.”

“I’m Ray McConnell,” he announced, and the other man offered his hand.

“I’m Bill Schultz.” He smiled warmly, easing Ray’s surprise at being met by the head of Naval Air Systems Command in civilian clothes.

“We’re keeping your visit low-profile, for the moment,” Schultz explained as they headed for the exit. “There’s a JCS brief tomorrow morning, and you’re going to pitch Defender.”

“To the Joint Chiefs of Staff?” Ray asked, shocked. He discovered it was possible to be both pleased and terrified at the same time.

There was a navy car waiting at the curb, and Ray’s bags went in the trunk.

Once they were in the car and moving, Schultz explained, “We’ll spend tonight and tomorrow morning putting together your presentation. Then you and Admiral Kramer will present Defender as a navy program at ten hundred hours.”

Concern growing, Ray protested. “You haven’t even seen what I brought out.”

“Have you discovered any fatal flaws in the concept since we spoke last night?” Schultz was smiling as he asked, and when Ray quickly shook his head, continued. “Defender is really all there is. If it doesn’t work, the Chinese win, so we are going to make it work.”

Relieved, Ray sat back in his seat and asked, “Where are we going?”

“First to get some dinner, then to the Pentagon. I’ve got a room at the Marriott Courtyard in Crystal City reserved for you. If we get enough done tonight, I might let you sleep a few hours.” Schultz was still smiling, and Ray could only hope for the best.

They ate at a sports bar a few blocks south of the Pentagon while the navy driver took Ray’s bags and checked him in to his hotel. “There aren’t many good and fast restaurants around here,” Schultz apologized, “but I found this place a few weeks ago. We’ve been pulling a lot of late nights recently, and I can’t stand delivery pizza.”

Schultz asked about how Ray had come up with the idea for Defender, how he’d found people to help, and then what the reaction had been within SPAWAR to his proposal. “Jenny passed on what you told her, but now I want all the gory details.”

As Ray gave a complete account of his climb and fall on the bureaucratic ladder, Schultz listened carefully, almost to the point of taking notes. Alternately frowning and smiling at his supervisors’ different reactions, he remarked, “Pay attention tomorrow. You’ll hear the same thing from officers who should know better. I’ve never met Admiral Carson, but I know the type. Anything that falls outside the wiring diagram is at best a distraction, and possibly a threat. Your idea was so big that it could only be a threat, to him and to SPAWAR.

“But you’re here, thanks to Jenny,” he continued. “So, how long have you two been going out?”

The sudden change of subject surprised him, and Ray had to pause before responding. “A few weeks. She showed up at the design sessions, and one thing led to another.” He shrugged, embarrassed for no good reason.

“Part of the reason — no, a big part of the reason I brought you out here was because of her support. She’s sharp, and I valued her judgment when she worked for me as a junior officer. If she thought you were worth something, then that was good enough for me.”

“I won’t disappoint you, Admiral.”

Schultz laughed softly. “I’m not the one you have to worry about disappointing.”

Captain “Biff” Barnes tapped his tablet, and the file collapsed down into a small spaceship icon. His presentation had condensed McConnell’s hundred-page design document down to fifteen minutes. It had been a long fifteen minutes, with Warner, his deputy, General Ames, and a small gaggle of generals and colonels watching intently.

Warner had called together his “brain trust” to hear about Defender and tear it apart, if they could. They hadn’t said a word, which Biff took to mean there weren’t any showstoppers. That didn’t mean there weren’t any questions.

“What about her radar signature?” one general asked. “Can you add radar-absorbent material?”

Biff shook his head. “We don’t know about its heat resistance. There’s been testing of some advanced RAM concepts to about Mach 5, but Defender’s going way above that. We can’t even put it on the nonaerodynamic surfaces, because the material is so dense. We don’t have the weight margin.”

A colonel suggested, “How about adding a gun?” Others in the room almost laughed at the suggestion, but he defended the idea. “I’m uncomfortable with the weapons suite. It’s all untried technology. We know a gun will work in space.”

“We considered it, sir,” Barnes answered. “And it sounds like a good idea. Without air friction or ballistic drop, you’ve got a flat trajectory out to many times its normal range, and it doesn’t even have to be an explosive projectile. The Tien Lung ASAT vehicle is most likely unarmored. So we looked at a long twenty-millimeter barrel firing shells loaded with something like double-ought pellets.

“The problem is the weight of the installation. You can’t mount it in the nose, like a traditional aircraft, because any orifice in the front compromises the heat shield. And rigidly mounting the gun means that the spacecraft has to be precisely aligned with the ballistic path of the projectiles. It’s hard enough to get the right angle on a target a mile away. Here, the target will be much farther out.” Biff noted all the fighter pilots nodding in agreement. “Aiming would also use up reaction mass as the attitude-control jets fired.

“It would have to be mounted in the bay, on a remote two-axis mount. By the time you’re done, the weapon and its mount take up just as much space and weight as a railgun or a laser, and have over twice as many components. Since the flexible mount would be a new design, the biggest chance of failure lies there. Clearing an ammunition jam would mean an EVA.”

Lieutenant General Towns was the Vice Chairman for Strategic Plans and Programs, and, like the rest of the officers there, this was his first encounter with Defender. He’d been furiously taking notes during the meeting, only half-listening to Barnes’s briefing and the discussion. He listened to another question about launch support before speaking up.

“I don’t understand how we’re going to be able to present this as a complete design. Captain, you’ve fitted all these components together, but I’m seeing pieces of four different programs at different stages of development. I see two civilian technologies that haven’t been certified for military use. And since this will be a major defense acquisition system, we need to go through the Joint Capabilities Integrated Development System and develop a requirement, which we then have to demonstrate can’t be met with existing systems or a change in strategy.”

Towns gestured toward the screen. “We can only proceed with the design, which Captain Barnes is presenting here, after that is approved. I’m ignoring the fact that several of the programs Captain Barnes talks about are compartmented and will have to be formally approved for fielding, or were you planning on keeping them on the ‘black’ side, Captain?”

General Warner cut in as Barnes started to answer. “Hank, that’s not fair. I directed the captain to use whatever technology he could find to describe a viable weapons system. Which he has done,” Warner declared approvingly.

The chief of staff continued, speaking carefully. “Having determined that an armed spacecraft is the only way to defend the GPS constellation, and having identified technology that will allow us to construct said spacecraft, my intention is to present the secretary of defense with an air force program already at the design-readiness-review stage. This will enable us to move on to Milestone C, production and deployment, expeditiously.”

Towns scowled. “So we’re just going to ignore the first two-thirds of the acquisition process, not to mention most of the DoD regulations? And what about competitive bidding? Using VentureStar makes Lock Mart the sole-source prime contractor, and you’ve also identified specific components for the rest of the design. The entire thing is sole-sourced!” He almost shuddered.

Warner smiled. “Hank, you’re in this room because of all the problems you just stated. Take your best people and have them write the world’s shortest, simplest requirement. Have another group work on the justification for sole-source contracts, another group…”

Lt. General Towns nodded impatiently. “I understand, sir. My staff will get on it immediately. Other programs will probably suffer, of course.” That remark forced him to pause for a moment. He then asked, “And where will the money for this wonder program come from?”

“From those other programs, of course,” Warner answered quickly. “But as long as the Chinese are shooting down GPS satellites, anything connected with Defender is the most important thing in the air force.” Biff noted a lot of frowns, but the general ignored them.

“This is a critical moment in military history. The Chinese have opened the door to a whole new type of warfare. We knew it would happen eventually, but we were in no rush to get there, until now. Just as the airplane changed the way ground troops operated, spacecraft will change the air force. Regardless of whether Defender is ever built, we must review everything we do — tactics, hardware, and especially future programs. Anyone who doesn’t think there will be changes hasn’t fully grasped the situation.”

Ray had wanted to get his breakfast to go, but Schultz insisted on their sitting down and eating in the restaurant. McConnell had protested. “I still haven’t solved all the power-management issues, and…”

The admiral cut him off. “Pace yourself, Ray. Five hours of sleep is only going to get you so far. And you can’t solve every engineering problem before today’s briefing. Besides, there are bigger things to think about.”

Ray’s expression as he worked on a steak omelet managed to ask the obvious question, and Schultz explained. “What part of the navy is going to run the program? I’m head of NAVAIR, and I don’t want it. I’d love to see some of the R&D folks at China Lake involved, because they’ve been very creative in the past. But this is way bigger than they can handle. And what about when it’s on the ground? We’ll need Marines to guard it, of course. Then there are launch-preparation considerations to be worked out. How long does a complete turnaround take under ‘combat conditions’? Can we work to shorten it?”

They took turns taking bites and exchanging ideas and questions. Schultz’s questions caught Ray flat-footed. He hadn’t given the slightest thought to how Defender would fit into the military once it was built.

During the ten-minute drive from the diner to the Pentagon, Schultz told Ray, “My goal is to present the JCS with a complete concept, not just of how this spacecraft will function, but how it will be supported and commanded.”

The admiral’s statements had surprised Ray, but also excited him. They assumed Defender would be built and take its place as a part of America’s military.

“For instance, we can’t run this kind of mission from Houston, or any of the existing space-command centers. That means we should have a rough idea of what that center should be like. We get enough of those questions answered before they’re even asked, and the JCS will let us build your baby.”

Answers to the admiral’s questions swirled in his mind, competing for attention as they passed through security and headed for Schultz’s office. Ray couldn’t wait to start.

“Bringing in a graphic artist was inspired, Captain.” General Warner was almost beaming.

“I knew he could get those diagrams done more quickly than I could, and they’d look a lot better.”

“What? I’ve found a pilot who wasn’t an art major?” Warner joked. “The important thing is that a dedicated artist let you concentrate on the content, while Sergeant Epperson made it look great.”

Warner’s aides had gone ahead to load the briefing and prepare the hard copies, and the two officers headed for the elevator down to the National Military Command Center, the “war room.”

As they rode down, the general said, “Biff, regardless of whether the JCS buys Defender or not, you’ve done a stellar job, and I’ll make sure Major Pierce knows about it. I know you’re looking forward to flying again, and I think you’re going to make an excellent operations officer. Unless you want to stay with the Defender program,” Warner added.

And miss a chance at ops officer, third in command of a fighter squadron? Barnes failed to suppress a wide smile. “Thank you, sir. I’ll do my best today.”

Warner laughed, a little grimly. “I just hope the Joint Chiefs have a sense of humor.”

Ray looked around the fabled war room. Every available chair was filled, most by someone wearing a uniform with stars on it.

The Joint Chiefs themselves sat on both sides of a long table, with the chairman at the head on the left. A briefer’s podium stood empty at the head, and behind the podium, the entire wall was an active video display.

Several rows of chairs to one side of the main table were filled with a gaggle of aides, experts, and assorted hangers-on, including Ray. Nervously, he typed on his tablet PC, working on the design that was never finished.

The vice chairman, a navy admiral, stepped up to the podium, and the buzz in the room quickly died. “Gentlemen, the Chairman.”

Everyone rose, and Ray saw General Kastner, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, enter and take his seat. McConnell wasn’t normally awed by rank, but he realized that this collection of stars could really make things happen. They literally were responsible for defending the country, and that’s what they’d met to do.

The vice chairman, Admiral Blair, clicked a remote. A chart appeared on the screen. It was titled “Protection of Space Assets.”

“Gentlemen, our task today is to find a course of action that will protect our satellites from Chinese attack. Any solution we consider” — and he started to tick off items on the list — “must address the cost, the technological risk, the time it would take to implement, and any political repercussions.” He glanced over at Kastner, who nodded approvingly.

Blair continued. “Above all,” he said, scanning the entire room, “it must work, and work soon. The material costs alone already have been severe, and the potential effects on American security are incalculable.

“For purposes of this discussion, while cost should be considered, it is not a limitation. Also, the president considers these attacks by China an attack on American vital interests, although he has not made that decision public.”

Nor will he, Ray thought, until we can do something about them. So cost wasn’t a problem — just shut down the Chinese, and do it quickly.

Blair put a new slide up on the display, listing some conventional methods of attack. “You’ve all sent analyses indicating that these are not viable options. Our purpose is to see what other means you’ve developed since then.”

Kastner stood up, taking Blair’s place at the podium. Blair sat down at his left. The chairman looked around the room. “To save time, let me ask a few questions.”

The chairman looked at the chief of naval operations. “Can we use a missile to shoot down the kill vehicle?”

Admiral Kramer answered quickly. “We’d hoped that would work, sir, but we’re sure now that we can’t. We had two Aegis ships in a position to track the last ASAT shot seven days ago. We’ve been analyzing the data since.”

“The Tien Lung” — Kramer pronounced the Chinese name carefully — “is too fast. Our SM3 missile can shoot down a ballistic missile, but as hard as a missile intercept is, it’s easier than this. At least a ballistic missile is a closing target, but the ASAT vehicle is outbound the whole way. It’s a tail chase from the start. Even if we launched at the same instant, the intercept basket is nonexistent.”

“Does the army concur?” Kastner looked at the army’s chief of staff. The army also had an active antiballistic-missile system.

“Yes, sir. It’s simply impossible from the surface of the earth.” General Forest didn’t look pleased.

Ray realized the general had just told the chairman that the army didn’t have a role in solving the crisis. Of course, the commandant of the Marine Corps looked even unhappier. This was one beach his men couldn’t hope to storm.

General Kastner announced, “I’m also allowed to tell you that there are no special assets that might be able to destroy the launch site using unconventional methods.”

In other words, Ray thought, they can’t get an agent into the area. He didn’t even want to think about how he’d destroy the launcher. Talk about The Guns of Navarone …

Which meant they were getting desperate. Ray saw what Kastner was doing: eliminating options one by one. He knew about Defender. He had to know. Ray didn’t know what to feel. Was this actually going to happen? Fear started to replace hope.

General Warner finally broke the silence. “Sir, the air force thinks we can make the Defender concept work.”

Admiral Kramer shot a surprised look at Schultz, sitting next to Ray. Then both looked at McConnell, who shrugged helplessly. He was equally surprised and confused. Warner’s aide began typing commands on the display, and Ray saw Defender’s image appear on the wall. This was becoming a little too surreal.

Others in the room thought so as well, although for different reasons. A low murmur rose and quickly fell, and Ray saw many shaking their heads in disbelief. Just because all other options had been eliminated didn’t mean they’d automatically accept this one.

“Captain Barnes from our Rapid Capabilities Office has put together a presentation on the design.” Ray saw a black air force captain with astronaut’s wings step up to the podium. As he started to speak, McConnell suddenly felt irritation, an almost proprietary protectiveness about the ship, especially when he saw that the graphic on the front had been changed to add U.S. insignia and “USAF.”

It was his idea. Ray wanted to speak up, then silenced his inner voice. This was what he’d wanted, to have his idea accepted and adopted. After all, the goal was to stop the Chinese and protect U.S. satellites. Remember the big picture, he thought. But the irritation persisted.

Barnes seemed enthusiastic about the design, and had to be some sort of engineer. He spoke knowledgeably and had resolved some design issues. Ray wasn’t familiar with all of the gear Barnes had added, but he understood its function. Some of the changes made sense, but the captain completely missed the boat on others. Ray tried to be fair. Nobody knew Defender as well as he did, or, at least, that’s what he wanted to believe.

Ray spoke softly to Schultz beside him. “He’s made some mistakes. Power management will not work like that.” Schultz lifted one eyebrow in response but didn’t say anything. The admiral pulled out his tablet and typed quickly. Kramer, watching the presentation from the long table, glanced down at his pad and tapped something, then looked over at Schultz, nodding. They watched the rest of the brief in silence. There was nothing about the larger questions that Vice Admiral Schultz had raised earlier that morning.

The last slide read “Questions?” and General Forest started to ask a question, but Admiral Kramer spoke up. “Excuse me, General, but Mr. McConnell, the engineer who led the Defender design team, is here, and can add to what Captain Barnes has presented.”

Schultz nudged Ray, and the engineer stood up and moved toward the podium. As he passed Admiral Kramer, the naval officer muttered, “Go get ’em, Ray.” The engineer had never felt less like getting anyone in his life.

As he approached the podium, Captain Barnes shot him a hard look, seemingly reluctant to leave. Ray said, “Hello,” conscious of the captain’s sudden obsolescence, and tried to smile pleasantly. Barnes nodded politely, if silently, picked up his notes, and returned to his chair.

Ray was acutely aware of the many eyes on him. He linked his tablet to the screen and transferred his own presentation to the display. He used the moment’s fiddling to gather his wits. He’d given dozens of briefs. This was just a little more impromptu than most. And much more important.

“As Vice Admiral Schultz said, I’m Ray McConnell, and I led the team that produced the Defender concept. It uses the Lockheed Martin VentureStar prototype with equipment currently available to detect launches, maneuver to an intercept position, and kill the attacking ASAT vehicle. It also has the capability to attack the launch site from medium Earth orbit.”

Barnes had said that much, Ray knew, but he’d felt a need to also make that declaration, to say to these men himself what Defender was and what it could do.

He opened the file and rapidly flipped through the large document. McConnell realized that the pilot had done a pretty good job of summarizing Defender, so he concentrated instead on the work that had gone into selecting and integrating the different systems. That was his specialty, anyway, and it improved the credibility of his high-tech offspring.

A message appeared on his tablet from Admiral Schultz as he talked. “Are there any army or Marine systems in the design?” Ray understood immediately what Schultz was driving at. There wasn’t a piece of army or Marine gear anywhere on the ship, and Ray mentally kicked himself for not understanding the importance of Pentagon diplomacy.

Ray spent most of his time explaining the command and control scheme and how the spacecraft would be supported on the ground. By the time he finished, he felt positive as he assured the assembled generals that there were no insurmountable problems in building Defender. He glanced at Barnes, but the captain was head down, typing.

“Thank you, Mr. McConnell.” Kastner rose again, and Ray quickly returned to his seat, barely remembering to grab his data pad. “I’m much more confident about Defender’s ability, and possibility, than I was at the start of this meeting. It is my intention to recommend to the president that Defender be built, and soon.”

Ray felt a little numb. Schultz gave him a small nudge and smiled.

“We haven’t really discussed the political implications of arming spacecraft.” General Forest’s tone was carefully neutral, but his expression was hard, almost hostile. Would he fight Defender?

Kastner was nodding, though. “A good point, Ted, and part of our task.” He looked around the table. “Admiral Kramer?”

“I believe the Chinese have solved that issue for us, sir. They’ve fired the first shot, and said so proudly and publicly.” He smiled. “I think Defender’s name was well chosen.”

General Warner added quickly, “I concur. There’s no guarantee that the Chinese will stop with just GPS satellites, and there’s every likelihood that their capabilities will expand. More frequent launches, and the ability to destroy satellites in higher orbits. That puts our communications satellites, even our nuclear-warning satellites, at risk. Consider the political implications of not acquiring this capability.”

“All of our public statements will emphasize that we are taking these steps only as a result of Chinese attacks,” Kastner stated.

Admiral Kramer quickly asked, “Should Defender even be made public? So far, it’s only been circulated on SIPRNET, so we can keep its existence classified. With enough warning, the Chinese might be able to take some sort of countermeasure.”

Kastner considered only a moment before answering. “All right. My recommendation will be that Defender remain secret until after its first use.”

General Warner announced, “I’ll have my people look for a suitable development site immediately. With all the air force bases we’ve closed…”

“Your people aren’t the only ones with runways, General. This is a navy program. Mr. McConnell is a navy employee,” Kramer interrupted.

“And that’s why he put his design on SIPRNET, because of the tremendous navy support he was receiving.” Warner fixed his gaze on Kramer, almost challenging him to interrupt. “It was my understanding that he offered this design to the DoD as a private citizen. Certainly the air force is the best service to manage an aerospace-warfare design. We’ll welcome navy participation, of course.”

“The navy has just as much technological expertise as the air force. And more in some of the most critical areas…”

Ray understood what was going on even as it horrified him. Defender would mean a new mission, and, if it worked, a lot of publicity, and more important, money. That mattered in these lean times, but the implications went beyond just a bigger slice of the pie. A revolutionary capability could have a significant impact on the defense industry, recruiting, and even the manned space program. It could also change the future in ways they couldn’t even guess. But now they were arguing over the prize like children.

“The army’s experience with ballistic-missile defense means we should be able to contribute as well.” General Forest’s tone wasn’t pleading, but his argument almost did.

Kastner spoke forcefully. “We will meet again at zero eight hundred hours tomorrow morning. Every service will prepare a summary of the assets it can contribute, and any justification it might feel for wanting to manage the project.”

Oh, boy, thought Ray. It’s going to be a long night.