“Missiles away,” Henry Lathrop announced. “Two Trinities outbound, tracking. Next launches in ten and twenty seconds.” Exactly ten seconds later: “Missiles away. Good track on first salvo—damn, lost control on second Trinity for the second engagement, launching a third salvo on second inbound . . . fourth salvo on third inbound away, good track . . . good track on first salvo, intercept looks good . . . Hydra is ready on all inbounds, good track, stand by . . . coming up on first intercept . . . now.”
At that instant all the lights on Armstrong Space Station brightened to more than twice their normal level, then flickered and went dead. Several computer terminals went blank momentarily, but seconds later started an automatic reboot. “What was that?” Kai shouted. The intercom was dead. “What happened?” The crew remained calm, but they were staring at momentarily useless displays and readouts, then at each other—and a few were gauging their distance to the hatch for the lifeboat spheres. “What do you got, Valerie?”
“I think it was an EMP, sir!” Valerie shouted. “I think the warhead on that Wasp interceptor had a nuclear warhead on it!”
“Shit,” Kai cursed. He looked over at all the monitors around him. Thankfully they hadn’t been fried—Armstrong Space Station was heavily shielded against cosmic radiation—but the power spike had reset all their computers. “How long before everything is back up?”
“Most will be back up in ninety seconds,” Trevor shouted across the command module, “but the synthetic-aperture radar might take three minutes or more.”
“Do you still have contact with the Trinities?”
“I got nothing until my computers reboot, sir,” Valerie said. “About a minute. Hopefully that EMP took out the Wasp interceptors as well as all our stuff.”
It was an agonizingly long wait, but soon the command module began coming back to life as computers rebooted and other systems were reset. “One Wasp missile remaining inbound!” Henry shouted when his computer monitor began displaying useful information. “All S-500 missiles still on course, about two minutes to intercept!”
“Nail that Wasp missile, Valerie!” Kai shouted.
“Trinities away!” Valerie said. “Hydra is not online yet—we can’t back up the intercept with the Hydra on this engagement! Trinities will launch against the S-500s in fifteen seconds!”
“Crew, report to Command on damage or injuries,” Trevor said on intercom. “Casey?”
“I just got my test computer back up,” Casey said from the Skybolt module. “Another forty minutes.”
“That’s too much time,” Kai said. “Casey, go on oxygen, put a space suit on, and report to your assigned lifeboat.”
“No! I can do it in time!” Casey shot back. “I’ll hurry. I can do it!”
Kai punched the air in front of himself. “Hurry, Casey,” he said finally.
“Coming up on intercept on the third Wasp,” Henry said. “Trinities away on the S-500 missiles—we’re launching against everything on the screen, including what might be decoys. Wasp intercept in three . . . two . . . one . . .” Again, the lights flared brightly, then most of the lights and displays in the Command module went dark . . .
. . . but this time, not all of the computer monitors began rebooting automatically. “The Trinity fire-control computer didn’t reboot,” Henry shouted to the others in the Command module. “I’ve got to do a hard reset.”
“Starfire fire control is rebooting,” Christine said. “I have to do a hard reset on Hydra.”
“Command, Engineering, hard reset under way on environmental and station attitude-control computers,” the engineering officer reported. “Switching to backup environmental controls, but I can’t monitor if they came up yet. I’ll get a report in—”
At that moment there was a tremendous shudder throughout the entire station, and the crewmembers could feel a slight adverse spin. “Did we get hit?” Kai asked.
“All readouts still blank,” Trevor said. “Pass the word through the other modules to look out the windows for evidence of damage.” Seconds later they felt another shudder, and the station started a spinning motion in a different direction. “Do we have anything, Valerie? We’re definitely getting hit by something.”
“I should get the Hydra fire control back in a few seconds,” Valerie replied. At that moment most of the module lights and intercom came back.
“. . . hear me, Armstrong,” they heard on the radio. “This is Shadow, how do you hear me? Over.”
“Loud and clear now, Boomer,” Kai said. “Go ahead.”
“The number seven solar cell and the truss just inboard of number two solar cell were hit,” Boomer said. “Station has started a slight adverse roll. Are your positioning systems working?”
“We’re doing a hard reset,” Trevor said. “We don’t know the status yet.”
“Radar is back up,” Christine reported. “Scope is clear. No contacts. We’re down to three engagements on the Kingfishers on the truss.”
“I got another fault indication on Hydra,” Henry reported. “I’m doing another hard reset.” Kai looked at Trevor and Valerie, and their expressions wordlessly sent the same message: we’re running out of defensive weapons, and we haven’t reached the most deadly part of the orbit.