“Well, I’m somewhat relieved to hear that, but back to Archer, is there any place you haven’t been able to get into where the president or I can help?”
“Not at this late date. With nothing to point to so far, I’m having a tough time deciding where to look next. Anyway, I have to run. If anything pops up, I’ll get in touch immediately,” Cooper promised.
The two shook hands and then Cooper left, giving a nod to the Secret Service detail parked in front of Slade’s Georgetown townhouse.
Slade saw it was a little after 6 A.M. and decided he might as well get into work early. He went upstairs, donned a tie and jacket, then locked up and left with his detail.
Once he arrived, he wasn’t surprised to find President Wilcox in her personal office.
When she saw him, she said, “You’re in early. Couldn’t sleep?”
“Had an early meeting with Cooper.”
“And was there anything forthcoming from your spook?” she inquired.
“Yes, and no. he hasn’t uncovered anything actionable on Archer, but he did demonstrate just how easily it is to get people to give up confidential or secret information regardless of any oath they’ve taken.”
“That’s disturbing. What are we talking about, selling out to the highest bidder?” she asked.
“Not even the highest bidder in many cases,” replied Slade.
“And our people?”
“It’s pretty much not a matter of cash. It takes a completely different approach. But that wasn’t the point this morning. He’s got people everywhere, even in the launch crew at Edwards. He says the payload is as advertised, there’s been no weapon replacing the satellite. Also, Edwards has been buttoned up tight as a drum. Cooper hasn’t been able to find anything suspicious,” Slade concluded.
Wilcox sighed in frustration and leaned back in her chair. “What now?” she asked.
“Hell if I know. Maybe we’re barking up the wrong tree. It could be he’s nothing more than a misogynist asshole who’s never going to change.”
“Do we dare take a chance on that? What if he does try to attack the colonists? The possible collateral damage from such an act is what’s keeping me up at night.”
“So far, Cooper hasn’t found anything to worry about. I know that’s little comfort at this point, but if Archer makes any kind of move in the next two days, Cooper’s sure he’ll get wind of it, and hopefully before Archer pulls the trigger.”
“Any idea where he’s going to be during the launch?” she asked.
“Cooper said the General was scheduled to be at the Pentagon.”
“I assume Cooper has that covered?”
“I believe it’s well covered, ma’am,” he replied.
“If it’s going to go down with the launch, we don’t have long to wait. All our other sources are quiet as well. I just hope we’re both worried for nothing. By the way, I’ve decided not to go to Edwards for the launch. If it doesn’t make it into orbit, I want to play this like I expected it to fail,” she said.
“And if it gets into orbit? What then?”
“Then I’ll release a statement praising the wisdom of NASA to ask for permission to allow the humanitarian launch, but to not raise expectations for any further launches in the future. You know, presidential like,” she said, grinning.
“So no statement ahead of time,” said Slade, winking.
“Absolutely not. I think I’m going to call General Archer this afternoon to inquire about whatever preparations he’s made in the event of the colonists trying to interfere with the launch,” Wilcox said, twirling her pen.
“Oh, you are so completely twisted!” Slade said laughing.
“Just being Presidential, looking after the people and all.” she paused, then said, “If Cooper or anyone else comes up with something, I want to know about it from you immediately and I’ll do the same.”
“Got it,” Slade said, getting up to leave.
“And let’s just pray that the asshole hasn’t got something up his sleeve that’s going to get people killed,” Wilcox said.
“From your mouth to God’s ear,” Slade said, then left.
* * *
The Earth station crew were studying the mission parameters for the launch, planning out their intercept course, backup course for the second jumper covering for the crew taking out the rocket, and any other contingencies they and the A.I. could come up with. It was agreed that Zelda would intercept the rocket with Clarice flying high cover. The current discussion was if all four would be needed on the mission. There was no discussion about both jumpers participating, that was one of the unbreakable safety protocols in case of one of the jumpers needed assistance. Dorothy was adamant about all four participating in the mission.
“Let’s say that something happens to either jumper. If one of the jumpers malfunctions, most likely the one doing the intercept, the high-cover jumper pilot will be busy flying and trying to assist. Screw it, all of us are going. Besides, if something does happen, the worst possible tragedy where both jumpers are destroyed, how’s the one left behind going to manage alone?” Dorothy asked. “If it was me, and I saw all three of you blow up, I couldn’t handle it, I’m not afraid to say it out loud.”
The others were silent. Finally, Clarice said, “Okay, you’re right. And you’re right about the high cover ship if something does go sideways, it would be better if the pilot concentrates on flying while the copilot initiates whatever rescue protocol is needed. I’m convinced, we all go. I’m going to go inspect the jumpers.”
“I’ll go with you,” said Zelda.
“Why don’t you put together a message to go with the mission protocols and have G2 send it back to Ops for review. Wait, we could grab the rocket and stash it with the ISS and GST station. That way they could use the satellite when the embargo is lifted. It could buy us some capital once they return to space,” Clarice suggested. “See what the council says about preserving this satellite.
“Will do. Let us know if you all need any help with the inspection,” Dorothy said.
“No problem,” Zelda replied.
With G2's assistance, it only took forty-five minutes to compose the mission plan and interrogatives for Ops and the council. Once it was sent off, the two made their way to the hanger and helped test the ships’ systems and safety equipment. They finished just in time for the evening meal and for G2 to inform them that the reply to their mission plan and interrogatives had arrived.
Clarice opened the message and announced that Ops approved their mission plan. The second part of the message was a reply from the council, signed by Margaret.
“The council says that if we can retrieve the rocket without risking ourselves or the jumpers, they give the okay to make the attempt. There’s the usual warning that though it appears the rocket has nothing but the satellite aboard, we should treat it like it’s nuclear-tipped,” she said. “Peanut included a warning about the railguns mounted on those destroyers down there.”
“But Ops approved the intercept?” Alice asked.
“They sure did. And ‘as is,’ too!” Clarice replied.
“Is everyone cool with the plan now that we’ve all had a little while to think it over?” Zelda asked.
The others nodded.
“I think we’re all prepared as much as we can be for never having performed an intercept before,” Clarice added. “There’s probably nothing to it, especially since we’re not going to just drop it in the drink. G2?”
“Yes, Clarice. How may I be of assistance?” replied the AI.
“Will you be able to reprogram the rocket’s guidance and power systems after launch?” she asked.
“According to the onboard computers and the software, I will be able to cut the propulsion after first stage burnout, preventing the second stage from firing.”
“And will you be able to cut communications between the rocket and ground control?” asked Clarice.
�
�I can take control of the rocket as soon as it leaves the ground. However, if control is taken away from ground control any time before launch, the launch itself will be aborted.”
“Thank you, G2. We will proceed as planned unless there are unforeseen issues that crop up mid-mission.”
“Is there anything else I may assist you with, Clarice?”
“No thank you, G2. That will be all,” she replied.
“So we’re still on to pick up the rocket after first stage burnout?” Alice asked.
“We are. We’ll fly a parallel track with it until it’s out over the Atlantic and the first stage is jettisoned, then we grab the rocket and haul it out by the two space stations,” said Clarice. “So, everybody get a good night’s sleep. I want us on station by 5 A.M. local time. That will give us an hour to nose around before they launch.”
“And let’s not forget, the US military is going to know when we leave the station, they can still track our jumpers. They’re going to know we’re there. What if they decide to do something about us this time?” asked Alice.
“Like what? Fire off some missiles? It’s not like we can’t outrun them,” scoffed Zelda.
“With all of Angela’s flight and avoidance training, I’m feeling fairly confident we should be able to stay out of trouble,” Dorothy assured them.
The four went over the mission parameters, checking frequently with the station’s A.I. on various technical details. As they refined the mission details, they transmitted updates to Ops.
The next morning, the team was up at 3 A.M, ate a light breakfast and then adjourned to the hanger making last minute inspections. Dorothy and Alice were assigned to one jumper and Clarice and Zelda were in the other. Clarice and Zelda’s jumper would grab the rocket once the first stage burned out while the other jumper would be flying high cover for safety.
* * *
“Madam President,” Agent Miller announced, bursting into her office with four other agents, “we’re relocating to the PEOC, now!”
“Where’s Slade?” Wilcox inquired.
“On his way, Ma’am, now move!” Agent Miller replied as she and another member of the Secret Service grabbed either arm, practically dragging her to the concealed entrance of the elevator surrounded by a phalanx of agents.
When she arrived at the operations center, Slade was already there and the main display showing near Earth space with two ships inbound toward Earth.
“Looks like the satellite isn’t going to make it into orbit,” she said, sitting down next to Slade.
“Being able to track their ships is still kind of amazing,” said Slade.
“Tracking gravitational anomalies is obviously a hell of a lot easier than making them. Dr. Harris has been trying to understand how they do it for several decades now. I dare say that hundreds of thousands of hours—maybe millions—have been expended around the world trying to figure out how it’s done. What a waste,” Wilcox said regretfully. “And we’re never going to make up for those fucking Russians who fired on their habitat, or the one who chased them out of orbit with nukes. One way or the other, we should be out of here in a couple of hours, might as well make the best of it,” suggested Wilcox.
At the Pentagon, General Archer was currently ensconced in the Pentagon Military Command Center, monitoring Edwards Air Force Base and the feed from Shelter 14 showing the progress of the colonial spacecraft. The command center was fully manned, and the United States military elevated the Defense Condition from DEFCON 5 to the current level of DEFCON 3.
“Send flash traffic to all forces that we are now at DEFCON 3 and prepare for attack,” General Archer ordered.
Along with the military personnel in the command center were two technicians from GST as observers. As the countdown came closer to launch and the colonial spacecraft approached closer and closer to Earth, the tension in the room increased.
In the PEOC, the President and the rest of the staff present observed the DEFCON indicator change from 5 to 3. And though she had direct communications access to the Pentagon, nothing untoward occurred yet.
“If Archer has anything planned, we’re about to see what it is,” she said to Slade.
* * *
Above the atmosphere the two jumpers were vectoring toward the west coast of the United States, arriving several hundred miles above California an hour before launch. The crews were updated by the space station’s A.I. about the military’s posture, looking for any specific orders concerning them. The weather below was clear with no cloud cover to conceal the ground, nor to conceal them from eyes on the ground. Both ships were ready to drop into the atmosphere, run parallel to the rocket, and then grab it when it was several hundred miles down range.
Conversation died down as they watched the camera feed of the launch pad from Edwards going out over the media channels.
The satellite was being launched into orbit aboard an Antares III rocket. The colony had intercepted several before at the onset of the embargo when the United States, as many of the other space-faring countries, tested the colony’s resolve. Edwards Air Force Base and NASA were as prepared, now it was merely a matter of waiting for the rocket to launch.
* * *
“Did you hear anything from Cooper yesterday?” Wilcox asked Slade.
“Nothing. If something’s afoot, it’s likely too late to do a damn thing about it.”
“And so we wait.”
Everyone in the bunker waited to see if the satellite would miraculously make it into orbit.
* * *
As the countdown wound down to zero, General Archer turned to the two GST technicians and said, “Okay, gentlemen. Do your thing.”
The two sat down at a newly installed console and powered it up. The console had two systems, tracking circuitry hooked into NORAD radar, and firing control.
As the rocket fired its engines and slowly lifted off the launch pad, the console centered its track on the rocket and locked on. As it accelerated into the sky, the feed from Shelter 14 showed the two colonial spacecraft rapidly vectoring in on the rocket as it headed east.
The technician tracking the colonists’ ships activated the firing control. All across the country, every DS500 railgun powered up and turned to face west. Alarms were triggered in San Diego as the DS500s installed there tracked east, completely out of local control. Alarms were triggered in Washington, D.C. as the DS500s deployed there to protect the White House emerged from their protective underground bunkers, rose and then tracked west. The Ardmore and it’s two sister destroyers at dock at Naval Station Norfolk activated their DS500 tracking systems despite all local efforts to stand down and tracked west.
None of the DS500s were responding to local commands, and since they were all equipped with hardened, redundant power supplies, they were incapable of being easily shut down.
Those manning the consoles in the Pentagon Command Center were all trying to see what was going on with the GST technicians and the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs; they had no indication what was going on from their consoles, nor on the many displays before them. The consoles manned by the GST personnel were isolated from the rest of the room.
“How’s your track?” Archer inquired.
“Perfect, all units report ready to fire,” the tracking tech replied.
General Archer looked at the Shelter 14 display and saw two of the spacecrafts closing on the rocket.
“How far are those ships from the rocket?” he asked.
“Closing to fifty miles.”
“Count it down for me,” Archer ordered.
“Forty miles. Thirty miles.”
“Prepare for first stage separation,” came over the feed from Edwards.
“One colonial spacecraft appears to be within a thousand yards of the rocket, near as I can tell sir,” said the man on the tracking console.
“Hold to see if they approach closer,” Archer warned.
After a moment, he reported, “Five
hundred yards and holding, sir.”
General Archer watched for a few more seconds, then said, “Fire!”
Time Has Come Today
“Booster separation, we’re going in,” Clarice announced.
“Roger that,” Dorothy replied.
Clarice and Zelda’s jumper lurched, then lurched again, then two metal rods penetrated the forward viewport, immediately flushing its atmosphere into space.
Zelda and Clarice reached for their helmets, but Clarice was impaled by another rod crashing through the shattered viewport and was killed instantly.
As she was trying to secure her helmet, Zelda killed the tractor beam holding onto the rocket and sent the jumper straight up, away from the planet’s surface only to find it was barely changing direction. As the jumper slowly turned away and rose from the Earth, Zelda managed to seal her helmet and activate the radio.
“. . .please respond.” she heard.
“I’m here. Clarice is dead, and the controls are extremely sluggish.”
“We’ll be right there to grab you and get the hell,” Alice began, then was cut off.
“Alice? Dorothy?” Zelda called out as the jumper shuddered again from the impact of the railgun projectiles. This time, several of the rods tore through the back end of the jumper, one striking Zelda in the leg, tearing the fabric of the suit. She felt the impact. but there was no sensation of pain alerting her to the injury. She surveyed the readouts and controls and saw that the jumper was still traveling away from the planet. Seconds later, the artificial gravity failed, and several pieces of equipment and debris floated off the floor drifting toward the crack in the viewport through which the last eddy of atmosphere was escaping.
The jumper shuddered, and Zelda was pressed back into her seat as the other jumper grabbed on magnetically, towing it toward the space station.
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