Brown, Dale - Independent 01 (59 page)

           
“Get your
butts up here. I’ve been waiting all day to show you this.”

           
They had to
step lively to keep up with Clancy, who rushed up to the bridge and then around
the catwalk facing aft across the huge device sprawled over the
California
's
fantail.

           
“All right,
all right, Admiral,” Saint-Michael said as they finally stopped and stared out
over the top of the curved stack of dishlike plates mounted on the ship. “What
is all this?”

           
“The future, Jason.”
Clancy turned to a lieutenant commander
waiting behind them. “Hit it, Commander.”

           
“Aye, sir.”
A few moments later a loudspeaker blared,
“Attention on deck. Stand by to deploy array panels.”

           
A
deep-throated rumbling began on the pedestal below them, and suddenly the
curved panels on top of the pedestal began to move, unfolding like giant flower
petals. In less than a minute they had dropped into place. The device was now
an oblong dish one hundred feet long and forty feet wide at its broadest point,
deeply curved in the center. At the precise center was a receiver horn. On the
face of the dish was painted “USS CALIFORNIA.” Then the dish began slowly to
incline and swivel until it was pointing almost directly south, its rim almost
touching the two pedestal legs supporting it.

           
“Not a bad
piece of work, right, Jas?”

           
“Not bad,
Admiral, but what
is
it?”

           
“You
haven’t figured it out?” He gestured at the dish with a sweeping wave of his
hand. “This, sir, is my new California-class SBR fleet command and control
ship. And
that
is my space-based
radar data transreceiver.”

           
“That’s an
SBR receiver? Amazing-------- ”

           
“Dedicated
one hundred percent to sending and receiving SBR data signals,” Clancy said.
“Four thousand square feet of antenna, over fifty tons—the largest antenna
afloat. Shielded and hardened against electromagnetic pulses and designed to
operate even in a nuclear environment. But that’s not the best part.”

           
Again Ann
and Saint-Michael had to scramble to follow Clancy as he led them down through
a series of hatches, past crewmen standing at attention along the bulkheads,
and into a circular room labeled “CIC.”

           
“The
California
's
new combat information
center.
The admiral motioned toward the center of the circle, where a
raised platform, fifteen feet in diameter and curved like a shallow bowl, was
under construction. “It’s not quite finished but you’ll get the idea. We call
it the ‘DANCE floor’—but you don’t dance on it.”

           
He led them
over to the platform so they could examine it. “DANCE stands for Digital
Advanced Near-space Communications Equipment. A mouthful, I grant you. It’s a
twenty-first century version of the old craps-table situation-boards they used
to have on command ships, the ones with the operators with long croupier sticks
moving little ship models around. DANCE floor is actually a horizontal screen
that displays SBR data in three dimensions. With it a fleet commander can get
an instant three-dimensional map of the area around his fleet for thousands of
miles. Images are put on the screen by laser projectors, so ships and their
datablocks appear to be hovering in midair in perfect relationship to the
fleet. When SBR data aren’t available the images can be frozen or the computer
can predict where the ships or aircraft would be and update the board
accordingly. We can also integrate shipbome radar and other satellite sensor
data into the DANCE floor for real-time mapping.... I think that station of
yours, and its gear, got to me. You and Ann saved thousands of lives out there.
When I realized none of my ships had the capability to fully utilize SBR
signals, well, I decided we should commit our resources to building one as soon
as possible. The navy and the Joint Chiefs backed me all the way. What the hell
choice did they have?

           
“The
California
's
new combat information center should
be finished in a month,” Clancy said, moving out of CIC and back up on deck.
“One month after that she’ll be ready for her first shakedown cruise.” They reached
the port rail near the gangway and stopped to watch as the huge SBR
receiver-antenna was being folded up again.

           
“I wish you
luck, Admiral,” Saint-Michael said. “She’s a beauty.
Silver
Tower
should be fully operational
in two months and as long as the
Arkhangel
and the
Brezhnev
stay in the
Middle
East
, the station will be there—”

 
         
“Not so fast, Jas.
You still don’t get it. I’m going to need someone special aboard
California
.
Someone who has command experience and knows Armstrong’s SBR
system.
I can think of only one man who fits the bill.”

           
“You want
me?”

           
“Hell, yes,
I want you. As commander of the new SBR section you’ll oversee all operations,
fleet integration and training for the new system. We’ll knock the stuffy old
U.S. Navy kicking and screaming into the twenty-first century, Jas.”

           
Just then
the loudspeaker clicked on. “Attention on deck. Admiral Clancy to the bridge.
Admiral Clancy to the bridge.”

           
“Got to go, Jas.
I need your answer. Soonest. You’ve got to
look over your new command and get ready for your new trainees in one month.
Ann, you’re a wonder.... Please give my love to your mother.” He turned and
trotted down the deck.

           
“He’s a
little bit crazy,” Ann said, smiling. “Well, do you think you could spend a few
months at sea with a fifty-year-old kid?”

           
“Depends.”

           
“On?”

           
“Us.”
He took her hand in his. “I’d love to go, you know
that. But I want you, I want us to be together on this. We deserve it. You
could go back to the station and—”

           
“No.”

           
“Ann, listen.
Leaving Space Command won’t change anything. If they have plans to turn that
station into an armed fort and Skybolt into an offensive as well as defensive
weapon, just leaving won’t change that. It’s a cliche, okay, but you’ve got to
work within the system, not outside it if you’re going to accomplish
anything....”

           
“What could
I do? I wouldn’t have any effect on the big brass’s decisions—”

           
“Maybe not
right away, but you could sure as hell speak up. And they’d have to give some
weight to your opinions.... After all, not all the bugs in the laser have been
worked out yet. You’re still probably the only one around who really knows how
Skybolt works....” He smiled. “At least I’d know
Silver
Tower
was being well taken care
of.”

           
She moved
closer to him. “I’d like to take care of
you”

           
“No
problem. Clancy can spare me for a few days? We could take off, Acalpulco
maybe, the
Bahamas
,
Lake Tahoe
—”

           
“General....
I’ve been in space. Can’t we just—”

 
         
“We can,” he said, taking hold of her
arm and signaling to their driver.

           
Ann was not
coy. “Wherever we’re going, let’s hurry.” Saint-Michael leaned forward,
instructed the driver, then settled back into her waiting arms.