“I need the precise description, capabilities, status, and location of each and every antisatellite weapon system in your arsenal,” Gryzlov said, “including your antisatellite missile submarines. And I need to establish a direct secure connection to each site and submarine so I can launch a coordinated attack against the American military space station.”
“N? tā mā de fēngle?” Zhou shouted in the background. Gryzlov knew enough Chinese expletives to know he’d said “You f*cking crazy?” From the interpreter, he instead haltingly heard, “The president strongly objects, sir.”
“Russia has many more antisatellite weapons than China, Zhou—if I sent you a tiny bit of our data, you would be quickly overwhelmed,” Gryzlov said. “Besides, I do not think your military or your space technicians have the capability to coordinate the launch of dozens of interceptors spread out across thousands of miles belonging to two nations against a single spot in space. We are much more experienced in orbital mechanics than China.”
“Why do I not just turn over all the launch codes to all of our nuclear ballistic missiles to you, Gryzlov?” Zhou asked derisively. “Either way, China is dead.”
“Do not be a fool, Zhou,” Gryzlov said. “We have to act, and act quickly, before the Americans can place more weapon garages in orbit and reactivate the Skybolt laser, if that drivel about the college students’ microwave laser replacing the free-electron laser is to be believed. Give me that data—and it had better be accurate and authentic—and I will determine the exact moment when the maximum number of antisatellite weapons is in range to strike at Armstrong . . . and then we will attack.”
“And then what, Gryzlov? Wait until American nuclear missiles rain down on our capitals?”
“Kenneth Phoenix is a weakling, as are all American politicians,” Gryzlov spat. “He attacked that S-500 site knowing we would retaliate. The minute he fired that microwave laser from the station, he knew the station would become a target. He did both thinking we would not respond. Now I have responded by destroying his spaceplane, and he has a choice: risk intercontinental thermonuclear war over this, or forfeit the military space station for peace. He is predictable, cowardly, and sure to be emotionally crippled. He is nothing. There is no threat to either of our countries except nuclear war if Armstrong Space Station is destroyed, and I do not believe Phoenix or anyone in America has the stomach for any kind of war, let alone a nuclear war.”
Zhou said nothing. Gryzlov waited a few moments, then said, “Decide now, Zhou, damn you! Decide!”
TEN
The God of War hates those who hesitate.
—EURIPIDES
IN EARTH ORBIT, THIRTY MILES FROM ARMSTRONG SPACE STATION
A SHORT TIME LATER
From about a mile away, all Boomer and Ernesto could see was a dense cloud of white gas, as if a cumulus cloud had broken free of Earth’s atmosphere and decided to float around in Earth’s orbit. “Still can’t see anything, Armstrong,” Boomer reported. “Just a very large cloud of frozen fuel, oxidizer, and debris.”
“Copy,” Kai replied. “Get as close as you can, but mind the fuel and oxidizer—don’t get close enough to ignite it. Even one spark of static electricity in that mess could set it off.”
“Roger.”
It took several minutes to close the gap, but the cloud still obscured the scene. “I’m about fifty yards away,” Boomer said. “This is about as close as I dare get. I can’t make anything out. Ernesto, you see anything in there?”
“Negative,” Ernesto said. “It’s a pretty dense— Wait! I see it! I see the Midnight! It looks like the right wing and part of the tail have been torn off, but the fuselage and cockpit look intact!”
“Thank God,” Boomer said. “I’m going over there to take a look.” He unstrapped and went back to the airlock. For a long-exposure spacewalk, in addition to wearing the EEAS for more protection against micrometeors and debris and for better temperature control, Boomer put on a lightweight unpressurized space suit resembling coveralls, then donned a large backpacklike device called a Primary Life Support System, or PLSS, and plugged his EEAS and environmental umbilicals into it. The backpack contained oxygen, power, carbon-dioxide scrubbers, environmental controls, communications gear, and a device called a “SAFER,” or Simplified Aid For EVA Rescue, which was a smaller version of the Manned Maneuvering Unit device, which allowed tethered and untethered astronauts to move unassisted in space. SAFER was only supposed to be used in an emergency, in order to return an untethered astronaut to the spacecraft—well, this was definitely an emergency. “How do you hear, Ernesto?” he radioed.
“Loud and clear, Boomer.”