SpaceCorp (31 page)

“The world will only be safe, which is to say spiritually safe, when the nation is safely ensconced in a Theocracy!” Reverend Screven of the Southern Baptists said.

“We concur,” Bishop Lorenzo Frost for the Fundamentalist Mormons said.

“Noted, Reverend, Bishop,” Senator Kershaw said, nodding to each in turn. “Then we got the fiscal conservatives howling out another one of their Defense fraud, waste, and abuse hymns.”

“See?” Senator Pitstick said. “Just let them have their day. It’s only half time. Second half will bring the dawn of a whole new day!”

Later that night

Over a secure communication link

“‘Sorry I’m late for our conference, Minister Shirazi,” Senator Pitstick said. “I had to do all the hooking up myself.”

“Did you give Oswald the night off?”

“Oswald? No, I can get him if I really need him.”

“So tell me, Senator,” Government Minister Hashem Shirazi asked, “when were you planning to tell us about the laser cannon?”

“When were you planning to tell us you already knew about it?”

Minister Shirazi was visibly taken aback but recovered quickly. “So it appears our relationship has gone to a new level of honesty. How did you know we knew?”

“A little bird told me, Minister. A little bird named Oswald. Did you know he was a Muslim?”

“Where is Oswald?”

“Oh, he’s hanging around here somewhere. Let me see if we can find him for you. ‘Computer: locate Oswald.’”

The monitor view ‘walked’ to the outside of the house, to the inside of an old barn. There hanging from the rafter was the body of Oswald Perry. The neck was elongated and the head cocked at an unnatural angle where the axis bone of the neck separated from the atlas bone. Although the eyes bulged and his tongue protruded, the purplish features were still recognizable as the face passed back and forth in the zoomed image.

“He told us his real name was Babak Esfahani, Minister. You’ll want to let his family know that he’s had a neck injury… fatal unfortunately... we did all we could.”

Minister Shirazi’s face became beet red and his lower jaw muscles trembled with rage. It was several seconds before spoke. “I presume our arrangement to shoot down your space station if off.”

“Off? Over a little spat like this? Oh, no, no, no, Minister. I assure you our arrangement is still very much on.”

“What has happened to your voice… your accent? It sounds faintly… British?”

“Not hearing the country bumpkin you thought I was? Oxford will do that to you. I’m afraid the redneck ruse was a necessary affectation to appease the baser sensitivities of my constituents who are very much the kind of bumpkin you thought
I
was.”

“Who are you, Senator, if you even are a senator?”

“Oh, I’m a senator all right, duly elected by the people. As for the rest of who I am, you don’t have a need to know. But I will tell you this, I am much more than you ever thought.”

“And why should we help you now? After you have eliminated an Iranian citizen whose family is personal friends with the Supreme Leader? How can we ever trust one another again?”

“We can’t, Minister. Actually, we never could. Don’t forget it was your side who decided to put the spy in my house.”

“That was an unfortunate necessity. We had to know you were a man of your word.”

“I
am
a man of my word, Minister. I just don’t cotton to deceit.”

“Again, my apologies.” Shirazi had recovered his composure. “How shall be proceed?”

“That’s a good question, Minister. How shall we proceed? For starters, do you know anything about game theory?”

“My specialty is foreign relations, but enlighten me.”

“We no longer have a poker game anymore—we call that kind of game a game of imperfect information. Each of us gets little hints about what cards the other is playing. Now we have a chess game—perfect information. Each of us gets a clear view of the board. Each of us is fully aware of the other’s capabilities although not necessarily his intentions. Ordinarily, each of us must intuit the other’s intentions, but this time I’m going to make this easy for you. I’m going to tell you my intentions. I
intend
to use my space-based, ground attack laser cannon to destroy your country if you don’t shoot it down first.”

“Your laser is capable of ground attack?”

“Precisely! Looks like the press finally got one right.”

“But what if we miss? I told you our missile is only capable of 75 percent probability of a kill.”

“Well, I guess you better sharpen up your sights, Minister. You have until the end of the month to splash that space station.”

A few minutes later

Over the same secure communication link, different channel

“Yes.”

“Hello. Mr. Magenta here. I just got off the phone with Minister Shirazi. Per your instructions, I gave him until the end of the month.”

“Will they comply?”

“I believe they will try. Whether they will succeed is anybody’s guess.”

“What about Oswald Perry?”

“I suspended him.”

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY-
O
NE

September 20
^th
, 2071

Mission Control, ISA Launch Facility, Shahrud, Iran

“Once again, please, Dr. Rahmani—I’m not that technical.”

“Of course, Minister. We have made some modifications to the
Shahab-7
. It still does top attack from a suborbital trajectory as planned. Only instead of ballistic all the way, the terminal phase is guided. That’s to compensate for the space station using nuclear thrusters to maneuver out of the way. Come closer to the mockup, please.” Rahmani opened the nacelle exposing the nose end of the warhead. “See here, we have placed a Doppler radar unit—the same as is used in a fighter jet. In fact this one is courtesy of the Air Force. Be sure and thank them for me, General Farahavi.”

“I shall, please continue.”

“Yes, well, with terminal guidance we could not leave the warhead spin-stabilized—too confusing for the guidance computer. So we hollowed out the explosive charge to make room for a rather robust set of reaction wheels. When you spin them one way, whatever they are attached to goes the other way. We have three of them—x, y, and z-axes. Anyway, they can maintain pointing accuracy to within a few arc seconds.”

“But my good doctor, if they are buried inside the explosive charge, how can they see to aim?” Shirazi asked.

“They have eyes, my good Minister! See here. This is called a star finder. It sights on one of fifty-seven bright navigation stars to determine its heading which it sends to the guidance and control computer. The star tracker is very precise. It is cued by a magnetometer which is not so precise. Anyway, after the star finder has determined its direction, the guidance and control computer does some algebra to tell the reaction wheels how to make precise pointing corrections.”

“Fine, so now you’re pointed at the target,” General Farahavi said. “How do you maneuver if you are off course?”

“We have a cold gas—no flames—maneuver control system. It uses pressurized helium. It’s not as efficient as hydrogen but it’s inert, and efficient enough for our needs. The helium is stored in a central propellant tank mounted inside the explosive charge. It feeds an array of lateral thrusters mounted around the body of the warhead and one large thruster mounted aft. The warhead can speed up but not slow down. It’s all very reliable—systems like this were quite common when satellites dominated the space business.”

“How much of a lateral correction can you make?”

“The
Einstein
is still orbiting at 710 kilometers—the same as when she first deployed from the
Pelican
. The
Shahab-7
will use all three stages to swoop up to its apogee at 1131 kilometers, then tip over to begin its descent onto the
Einstein
intercept point. At that altitude the
Einstein
still will not be in view of the target acquisition radar, so the warhead will be dependent on target data sent from tracking stations on the ground. The target acquisition radar will be able to detect the
Einstein
as soon as it comes within 150 kilometers. From that range we will be able to shift our intercept point a half kilometer laterally in any direction.”

“How precisely do you think you can hit your target?” Shirazi asked.

“Well, our aimpoint is center of mass. I would say we will have no trouble striking somewhere inside the ring if the Einstein does not attempt any evasive maneuvers.”

“Center of mass? Don’t you risk passing right through?” Farahavi asked.

“Of course. The station’s interior ring is quite large and mostly empty space. That’s why we have a proximity fuse.”

“And the warhead is the same as before, the explosive part, I mean?” Farahavi asked.

“Yes, only less Composition B to make room for the terminal guidance system. We now only have 1200 kg of Composition B high explosive wrapped in the same steel fragmentation coil as before.”

“What happens if you miss entirely?” Shirazi asked. “What becomes of the warhead?”

“We will command detonate the warhead.”

“Will the fragments burn up in the atmosphere?” Shirazi asked.

“No. The warhead is suborbital—traveling well under the 27 thousand kilometers/hour that an orbiting vehicle travels at that altitude. The fragments will be small though—pieces of steel fragmentation coil and maybe some of the helium tank.”

“If they are retrieved, can they be identified back to us?” Shirazi asked.

“There are no identifying markings on the warhead or its components, Minister.”

Shirazi puzzled over Rahmani’s answer for several seconds.

“That troubles you, Minister?”

“Hmm? Oh, I am not sure, Doctor. I guess I assumed anything returning from space was subject to burning up in the atmosphere.”

“Well, that is generally true, Minister. Just not suborbital things.”

“What about the
Aqrab
?” Farahavi asked.

“Our little scorpion? Well, she does what scorpions do best. She waits until the right moment, then she strikes.”

“And when is that right moment?” Farahavi asked.

“I was thinking it would be after the
Shahab-7
has done its job. The
Aqrab
will be our backup if things do not go well.”

“Well done, Dr. Rahmani, you have thought of everything,” Shirazi said.

“Alas, ‘everything’ is at best something one
wishes
they could have thought of. I do the best I can. The rest is up to Allah. Now, gentlemen, if there are no further questions, you should take your seats. Our launch window is very narrow—about thirty seconds. If we miss it, all we can do is shut down and wait for the next launch window which won’t be for several weeks, assuming that accursed space station makes no further maneuvers.”

“It is maneuvering?” Shirazi asked.

“Constantly—they can’t seem to resist playing with their new nuclear rockets. It’s wreaking havoc on the maneuver fuel for the
Aqrab
. If we don’t engage soon, we will have to replace the
Aqrab
.”

*   *   *

Rahmani took his place at his command console and put on his headphones. He had no real duties unless things went wrong. Then he would be called upon to make the split second abort decision. For that he needed to remain cued in to the mission status. The rest of his team knew their parts well, the product of over 50 rehearsals. A successful mission would be one in which Rahmani remained a spectator.

“Launch control status?” Rahmani asked.

“Launch control systems nominal. Ready for launch.”

“Target status?”

“Target nominal. Thirty-one seconds late. Still within the engagement envelope.”

“Very well, gentlemen, let us begin and may Allah guide us.”

*   *   *

There was a mounting tension as the target entered the launch window. The Target Manager kept counting down, interjecting “Target still nominal” periodically during the count.

At last came the ‘Ignition’ command—more an action completed than a command. The launch ‘button’ had been pushed automatically by a computer. The only human interaction would have been a launch abort command and that did not happen.

The rocket floated upward on the monitor, more like a balloon than a rocket, like it might tip off its pedestal of flame any second only it did not. Lift-off and climb to main engine cutoff and 1
^st
stage separation were both nominal.

24 minutes later

On the bridge of the
SSS Albert Einstein

The
Einstein
had three shifts called the Rocket Watch or ‘Rock Watch.’ Their sole mission was to provide round-the-clock coverage of the airspace over Iran in case of a launch. In a like manner, the LWOC or Laser Weapons Operations Center maintained three shifts for the ‘Gun Watch’ in case the Rock Watch detected a bogey. Protocol required that the laser not be deployed until whatever was detected was deemed foe and within ten minutes of impact. Theoretically, this was so the hordes of
Einstein
watchers on the ground would not become alarmed if they suddenly observed a laser cannon in their telescopes. The
Einstein
crew did not like that protocol and many of them were quite bitter about it. They reasoned that by the time the laser was deployed and ready to fire, the incoming bogey could be less than five minutes away. Byerly was especially angry about the policy. The source of the policy was the State Department. Apparently, they did not want the
Einstein
deploying a weapon system allegedly able to strike ground targets while flying over friendly nations. In spite of the president’s best efforts to deny it, the press leak about the laser weapon system having ground attack capabilities had made the
Einstein
the most watched and photographed space station in history. Every day Internet news feeds showed high resolution pictures of the bottom of the
Einstein’s
hull with detailed arrows and notes as to where the external hatch concealing the laser might be located. The only thing they proved was that nobody really knew.