The Kessler Gambit
by Matt Bille
U.S. SPACE FORCE BOTTOM LINE UP FRONT (BLUF) SUMMARIES: ARCHIVED
USSF BLUF DAILY SUMMARY – 0600 9 June 2034
<CLASSIFICATION>
At 1625Z on 7 July, China launched a spacecraft which appears to be in the Shǒuhù ASAT family. Satellite and transfer stage remained in Low Earth Orbit (LEO), but imaging from ground and space indicates it carries the large transfer stage used in flights to Geosynchronous orbit (GEO).
At 1330Z on 8 July, Pakistan launched a spacecraft of unknown type. This may be the first of their Talwar satellite inspectors/killers intended to counter Indian satellites. <CLASSIFICATION>
USSF BLUF DAILY SUMMARY – SUPPLEMENTAL - 0600 10 June 2034 <CLASSIFICATION>
The USSF issued a preliminary warning that what we believe to be Talwar-1 will pass within 10 km of Transport Layer Satellite No. 1935.
Pakistan was cautioned to avoid causing a collision. Pakistan has not registered the satellite or formally claimed ownership.
A collision event was reported concerning an old Iranian test satellite, Fajr-3, and a tracked object believed to be a French satellite fairing: inclination 39, altitude 430km, over West Africa. <CLASSIFICATION>
USSF BLUF DAILY SUMMARY – SUPPLEMENTAL - 1600 10 June 2034 <CLASSIFICATION>
Transport Layer Satellite 216 appears to have had a collision event. This event is probably but not certainly related to the satellite Pakistan still has not named or registered in accordance with the Registration Convention.
At 1400, the U.S. advised China, the International Telecommunications Union, and the Global Space Clearing Center that a Shǒuhù spacecraft may violate the reserved slot for USSF space station Guardian One. China acknowledged receipt but did not reply. <CLASSIFICATION>
USSF BLUF DAILY SUMMARY – 0800 11 June 2034
<CLASSIFICATION>
No final resolution on the June 9 collision event.
Still examining details and debris from collisions on 10 June. <CLASSIFICATION>
USSF BLUF DAILY SUMMARY 0800 12 June 2034
<CLASSIFICATION>
No resolution of previous collision events.
Guardian One carried out a routine maneuver to avoid known debris.
Russia reported an event, with its commercial Yabloko 5 slightly damaged by two very small objects (debris or micrometeoroid).
Analysis by the Space-domain Brilliant Recognition Artificial Intelligence Neurosystem (SpaceBrain) indicated a 20 percent chance a of limited (Type 1 autotrophic self-replicating chain of events) Kessler event in low-inclination LEO from 600 to 1200km, centered on inclination 39 degrees, is underway.
[UNCLASSIFIED NOTE for release to Public Affairs: Kessler Syndrome, proposed by NASA’s Donald J. Kessler in 1978, is a scenario in which the density of objects in low Earth orbit (LEO) is high enough that collisions between objects could cause a cascade in which each collision generates space debris that increases the likelihood of further collisions. In the worst-case scenario, entire orbits could become unusable. The portrayal in the 2013 movie Gravity, while inaccurate, popularized the term.]
U.S. and allied planners directing a total of 15 Space Domain Awareness (SDA) constellation avoidance maneuvers so far: commercial firms and all nations notified.
Other nations also taking precautions, but most of the objects in this orbit are uncontrolled debris or dead satellites. <CLASSIFICATION>
USSF BLUF DAILY SUMMARY – SUPPLEMENTAL – 1330 13 June 2034 <CLASSIFICATION>
Collision of Chinese and Russian objects reported, no official pronouncements. Space Fence reports debris cloud spreading, centered in orbital inclination 45.5 and altitude 855km.
Iran says it will demand damages from France under the Liability Convention. France immediately responded they do not think fairing involved in 10 June event was theirs, also that the Fajr-3 had been inoperative for three years.
USSF BLUF DAILY SUMMARY – SUPPLEMENTAL - 1420 13 June 2034 <CLASSIFICATION>
U.S. issued warnings to China over suspected Shǒuhù ASAT: spacecraft is on a trajectory bringing it close to Guardian One in GEO. Guardian One has eight USSF crew on board.
Chinese intentions unknown: may be there to inspect, attack, or intimidate. <CLASSIFICATION>
USSF BLUF DAILY SUMMARY – SUPPLEMENTAL - 1440 13 June 2034 <CLASSIFICATION>
Cyber Command reports an upsurge in routine penetration attempts into Space Command and Control (SC2) and other systems. Specific targets appear to be USSF, Missile Defense Agency (MDA), and links connecting ground-to-ground and ground-to-space. Degradation so far is minimal, but this is assessed as a serious attempt to disrupt SC2 and related systems. Origins still unknown at this time. <CLASSIFICATION>
***
THE CRITICAL DAY
0000Z
Joint Space Operations Center, Vandenberg Space Force Base
0240Z, 13 June 2034
In the softly lit expanse of the JSOC, Major Laura J. Wallace of the U.S. Space Force looked at the console and shook her head. “This just keeps getting more complicated, sir.”
Wallace sat in the center seat of the main Space Control Console, the nexus within the coordination center of American space power. She was tall and slender, and she took a second to find a comfortable groove in a seat chosen by some general to look like it belonged on a starship bridge.
Around the SCC stretched semicircles of computer stations with neat signs labeling stations such as “Launch Range Coordination,” “Operational Intelligence,” or “NATO Liaison,” staffed by USSF personnel with a sprinkling of other services and allied nations. Screens and holographic projectors dominated the front of the gym-sized room, along with Space Force emblems and the official motto, Semper Supra. Wallace knew a couple of people who had tattoos of the unofficial motto: Sumis custodes costellatio licisci, butchered Latin for “We’re the Guardians of the Galaxy, bitches.”
On her right sat Major Tom Neufeld, a stolid, neatly mustached officer of the Canadian Forces, as space tracking and prediction expert. Wallace’s station was meant to be in the left seat, but brigadier general and ex-astronaut Tony “Gorilla” McGill liked to take the traditional pilot’s position and see how his junior officers handled the center spot with its always-changing array of screens and holograms.
“Think it through, Major,” he said. “Give me the key events from the top.”
Wallace nodded. She blinked, a habitual signal to her brain to clear the decks, and focused in on the facts.
“Yes, sir. First, TL 1935 and the Pakistani satellite collided. We assume it’s a Talwar ASAT due to general characteristics and two orbit-raising maneuvers in quick succession. Pakistan says it was a test satellite for Iran, so anything that happened is Iran’s fault. Iran says it’s doing nothing and suggested we’re tracking an old Russian stage. Russia says no and this must be either Pakistan’s or Iran’s fault. We did have a couple of substantial debris objects on the High-Interest Event Tracker. There’s a point where the Space Domain Awareness birds couldn’t be sure because three objects about the same size were in such close proximity.”
“Visual,” McGill said. “Replay it.”
Wallace twisted her hands in front of her screen, as if kneading dough. Video from one of the SDA satellites came up. The satellites involved appeared in the air in front of them, and he studied the moving objects. “Two objects can collide, but three? In space? Major Neufeld, it looks like a half-dozen objects now that were or may have been involved in collisions in low-inclination LEO orbits within an altitude range of three hundred kilometers. Correct?”
“Yes, sir. That’s before we even add in this Iran-French collision.”
Wallace looked at the video again. She had the inkling something was off, but she couldn’t form the thought.
“Major Wallace. Speculate. Do you think Pakistan, Iran, and Russia are telling different stories because they want the liability to be on someone else, or because there’s something more complicated going on?”
“There’s something more complex going on that ties this all together, General. I’m certain of it. But I’m still trying to generate a more specific hypothesis.”
Major Neufeld spoke. “Pardon me, sir, but Japan told us their radarsat spotted a new collision, and now we’ve got it too. Looks like a fragment. First guess is it’s from the 1935 collision and a spent kick stage from the Pakistani launch. It was within a tenth of a degree, 50 kilometers altitude, and only about 150 kilometer slant range from where the last event happened.”
The jabbing in Wallace’s brain intensified. What are we missing?
“Major Neufeld, your branch has run these kind of sims a thousand times in the 3Vid,” McGill said, using the common shorthand for the AI-run 3D Virtual Reality simulation systems. “Where does it go from here?”
“Countless variables, sir, but with that slice of LEO getting crowded, just a few collisions might set off a Kessler event.”
“Be careful using the K word, Major Neufeld, it panics people. Major Wallace, how bad is the debris from 1935 so far?”
“Worse than we would have expected, sir. Space Fence has 214 objects, plus whatever is too small or nonreflective to pick up. Collision was at an acute angle and works out to about sixteen thousand kilometers an hour.”
“Do we have any other likely collisions forecasted?”
“Not yet, sir.”
“Major Neufeld, get the 3Vid gang online to run continual updated scenarios as observation data comes in. I’m starting to think someone here is on our six, and we don’t know who.”
Two hours later, Wallace, McGill, and Neufeld were replaced on console to meet with other analysts in the briefing room. From here they watched the Tracking Layer Satellite 935 incident replayed on the 3D wall, this time from the satellite’s point of view. There was a collective gasp at the violence of the collision and the way debris scattered like fragments from an exploding warhead.
“So now, we’ve got four LEO collisions,” McGill said. “China claims something hit what they call a ‘military satellite conducting peaceful materials and technology tests.’ What’s the inclination on that one?”
Neufeld answered, “Sir, only three degrees higher than our 1935, and it looks like the debris clouds will overlap. There’s more coming at us.”
“That’s our view, sir,” said Jack Haaren, the white-haired contractor lead analyst, an ex-officer with more space ops experience than any of them. “We need to shift some of the Transport Layer and Custody Layer birds. We have to stop feeding the fire of these collisions.”
McGill looked at Major Neufeld, who said, “Sir, I agree, but understand that we’ll burn up the fuel on some of the satellites we move.”
“Burn them,” McGill said. “General Riordan needs to approve that, but that’s what he’ll say. Deorbit them if there’s no other way. And we need to find out what that Chinese spacecraft is doing headed for Guardian One’s GEO slot. We don’t have any traffic in last few minutes from USSPACECOM Headquarters, so let’s see who’s got the stick right now.”
The contractor brought up a picture on the secure comm on the room’s control console.
A thin-faced, graying two-star general appeared. “This is Hux.” Hux was the Operations chief, J3, under General Riordan.
“General, Tony McGill. We need to brief General Riordan and review possible warfighting options if our situation is not accidental. Is he in yet?”
“On his way in. Go ahead and brief me.”
“Yes, General. First, I’d like to recommend we get one thing out of the way and go to Space Condition 3.”
“Agreed. Go to SPACECON 3.”
“One other thing can’t wait. I need approval to lose some satellites in the layers. We believe it may take that to avoid a Kessler event.”
“Send us your projections, best case to worst. If anything becomes critical before we send new orders, you have authority to take the actions required to avoid that situation.”
USSPACECOM BLUF DAILY SUMMARY SUPPLEMENTAL 0748Z 13 June 2034
<CLASSIFICATION>
A Shǒuhù spacecraft was confirmed to enter the slot reserved for Guardian One and that Armadillo refueling depot. U.S. reissued warning: as in the last incident, China signaled receipt but did not respond. <CLASSIFICATION>
USSPACECOM BLUF DAILY SUMMARY 0940Z 13 June 2034
<CLASSIFICATION>
China’s Xi’an Satellite Monitor and Control Center announced they believe a Kessler event is imminent and are shifting six Earth-imaging satellites and four experimental satellites to slightly different orbits.
The Center had no comment on the Shǒuhù spacecraft. <CLASSIFICATION>
JSOC
0945Z, 13 June 2034
Major Wallace, on the second way-too-interesting stretch in her shift, briefed General McGill on the latest.
“The infrared track has it launching twenty-one minutes ago from the Iranian launch center, the new site they built with Chinese help. Not on a ballistic trajectory like an ICBM. Projecting it as an orbital launch.”
“What’s the inclination?”
“Around thirty degrees, sir.”
“If it’s orbital, we should know soon,” McGill said. “Who’d have thought the Iranians would be such a potent space power? When I was a lieutenant, they could barely fire a model rocket.”
“This could be more of a joint Iran-Pakistan-Korea pact launch, sir, or even a Chinese one.” Wallace turned back to her screen and studied the 3D image and accompanying alphanumerics.
“Okay, sir, It’s definitely orbital. Inclination 29.9, initial altitude 320 kilometers. Eccentricity and parameters TBD, but we should have them in less than two hours. SpaceBrain is updating now.”
“Now, what do we have, in your opinion?”
“General, with an orbit that low, either tactical comms or an imager.”
McGill considered the possibilities. “Also could be something a lot nastier. Let’s see if we can arrange a visit from CORVUS.”
“CORVUS is in routine orbit and not currently tasked, sir, so that should be doable. Only other activity is spaceplane Rook-3, General Bruce Medaris, approaching docking with Guardian One.”
“Any reason that last is important to us, Major?”
“Uh, no, sir, just routine information.”
“Carry on.”
She refocused on her console, just a bit rattled. She could swear McGill had flicked an eyebrow in what might have been a humorous way.
Pakistan Space Center, Rawalpindi
1122Z, 11 June
Colonel Mukthi Batra inserted the flash drive in the console. In the fifteen years since the Center had been opened, originally as part of the civilian-focused SUPARCO agency but hosting an ever-larger military wing, its network had not been updated with any consistency. The old civilian computers remained highly vulnerable to attacks. Transferring equipment from his own military research branch to Iran labeled as propellant tanks hadn’t been noticed yet, thanks to some altering of records, and the component swap two of his co-conspirators had made on the Talwar satellite had likewise gone undetected. It amused him his country was going so far as to disclaim ownership of the Talwar as experts tried to sort out what had happened.
U.S. Space Force Experimental Station, General Michael Collins, aka Guardian One
1144Z, 11 June
The six modules, giant solar panels, and forest of antennas making up the USSF’s space station hung together in the velvet black, prepared to receive visitors. The station’s 190 metric tons of mass, with 348 cubic meters of habitable space, had been completed only a year before using a series of Osprey and Sigma commercial boosters. Now the Medaris approached Docking Port 2.
The docking was routine. The station commander, Colonel Rick Schlosser, watched impatiently until the inner airlock hatch opened. Three men floated there: the Medaris’s copilot, the flight engineer, and the new intelligence officer, Major Martellus Jenkins. “Major Jenkins, with me please,” Schlosser said. Jenkins, a tall black man, glanced up at the airlock threshold as though afraid he’d bump his head on it, then reoriented himself from Earth to space and floated through horizontally.
The two “flew” through an equipment-encrusted corridor to the dark, small, but critically important space called the Warfighter Information Center. Jenkins had his first look at the liquid-crystal display walls and holograms that projected the environment around the station in all directions and dimensions.
“Major, I hope you’ll pardon me for not giving you a chance to get organized, but I don’t like what I’m hearing. China seems to intend a visit, but give me a quick update on Iran while we’re waiting for data.”
Schlosser pointed to the WIC’s tiny waist-high conference table behind the two seats of the central control console. The two men tagged their feet onto Velcro pads to “stand” in place. Jenkins, on only his second trip to space, took a moment to orient himself again. This is the floor, so that’s the ceiling. Got it.
“Well, sir, this all started three years ago when the mullahs couldn’t keep Iran under control and General Mossadeq had himself declared a caliph and instituted a military government. He poured money into the space program for more military satellites. Then came the IPK space pact, where they found common ground with Pakistan and North Korea. China is supplying some help and some tech under their ‘Space Silk Road’ initiative. Mossadeq said once the last two attempts to renew a caliphate failed because the opposing coalitions had space power and they didn’t.”
“I’ve heard the part with Iran and Pakistan called a caliphate, but can it be? Pakistan is three-fourths Sunni, while Iran is Shia.”
“The intelligence community consensus is that they somehow papered all that over, sir.”
Jenkins hesitated, and the colonel caught it. “Major, that’s a gigantic bit of ‘papering over,’ and I don’t think you’re buying it. Give me your personal opinion.”
“My best friend in CIA hinted that CIA people think it’s some kind of international military action that’s added enough theocratic elements to give it cover. But CIA is still in bad odor since the Siberian nuke mess. No one’s listening to them.”
Schlosser closed his eyes a minute and pondered.
“Set that aside for a moment, Major. What else?”
“Yes, sir. That first stunt of theirs was a good one, flying the giant aluminized balloon everyone in the world could see when it passed over. They took the idea from our Echo communication balloonsats, which we stopped launching seventy years ago because they didn’t have much utility.”
“Sure made good propaganda, though. Do the spooks trust what we know about the military side of the IPK confederation?”
“Right now, yes, sir. It’s a loose coalition, not a military alliance, but they managed to shoot down—no pun intended—in the UN the strengthening of the Missile Technology Control Regime to tighten the controls on space boosters. Side note is that Pakistan has been edging away a little from the others lately.”
“We still haven’t seen any ASATs from them, right?”
“Not from IPK nations, sir, but we know China and Russia can reach all the way out to GEO and some distance into cislunar. China has tested four Shǒuhù co-orbital inspectors slash ASATs, three successfully, the last one transiting GEO, although it stayed within a slot assigned to a Chinese satellite.”
Schlosser looked out the window, although the Chinese craft was far too distant to be visible, and called back to the JSOC. “Tony, what’s with that thing? We sure as hell didn’t order takeout!”
Over the South Atlantic
1210Z
Six hundred and forty kilometers above the planet, the CORVUS 1 inspection craft cruised in a low-inclination orbit, complementing the polar-orbiting CORVUS 2. On Earth, the JSOC validated the appropriate order and channeled it to the 4th Space Control Squadron. Major Wallace reported the commands had been relayed from an Earth station through the Transport Layer of smallsats—unofficially, the Woodstock layer, thanks to all the chattering it carried—to CORVUS 1.
The eighteen-meter delta-winged CORVUS 1 activated its propulsion systems and began to shift its orbit. The Priority 1 USSPACECOM had assigned to the mission authorized burning the main engine as well as the ion thrusters.
“We were lucky CORVUS was on an inclination only two degrees off,” Wallace said. “SpaceBrain says contact in forty-two minutes, unless the target tries to avoid us.”
McGill smiled at the report. “Well, if it does, that’ll tell us something right there.”
USSPACECOM BLUF DAILY SUMMARY SUPPLEMENTAL 1249Z 13 June 2034
<CLASSIFICATION>
After no response to repeated warnings U.S. informed China we will protect Guardian One and other spacecraft by all means necessary, including the use of force.
CORVUS 1 is closing on an unidentified satellite in LEO.
<CLASSIFICATION>
Over the Central Pacific
1252Z
CORVUS 1 acquired the target after two deviations to avoid debris. The visual and infrared feeds went to the commanders at JSOC, the USSPACECOM HQ, and various other points around the Earth and off the Earth. General McGill had his counterpart on Guardian One patched in.
The image of the satellite came through various filters and AI-driven error correction to show up on the various screens as a medium-sized spacecraft, perhaps three hundred kilograms, with a central bus, broad solar panels, and three cylindrical objects about a meter long housed in protective covers.
JSOC
Lieutenant Colonel Gauthier, the sharp-featured Senior Intelligence Duty Officer (SIDO), spoke first. “Sirs, that resembles an unconfirmed design leaked on the Web for a satellite housing three close-inspection vehicles, which double as kinetic ASATs. But the bus looks adapted from Shamshīr, the IPK’s joint space surveillance satellite launched last year.”
A holograph appeared in a frame next to the JSOC console. It showed General Riordan and his shift lead, Chief Master Sergeant Kris “Sally” Ride.
“Major, that’s what I’m hearing here too. Who built the interceptors?”
“We can’t see enough to tell, General. The unconfirmed data would say Chinese, although it’s possible one of the other actors managed to steal it or parts of it.”
“It looks like a polyglot,” said Major Wallace. She and Neufeld would normally have left console by now, but they were the most experienced crew and McGill had asked them to stay on, splitting some duties with their replacements. McGill himself was doing the same thing. “But is it designed that way so it’s hard to identify, or is this a garage build by someone who got hold of a few parts from different countries?”
“While we’re answering the major’s excellent question,” General Riordan asked, “what’s it there for?”
“Unknown, sir,” General McGill replied. “Something like that could take out any satellite it could reach, and we don’t know the range or delta-V of the interceptors.”
“And wouldn’t that add to our debris problems,” Colonel Schlosser said. “It could cause a Kessler Syndrome all by itself.”
“Holy hell!” Wallace exclaimed to her audience of colonels and generals.
“Care to translate that, Major?” General Riordan asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Sorry, General, sirs. But debris. Kessler. I think I just figured something out. It’s on the first scenario Major Neufeld’s buddies did on the 3Vid. Let me call it up.”
Wallace waggled her fingers to bring up the images.
In the main holographic projection space in front of the console, a densely populated image of low orbital space appeared, with the congested area in LEO from 630 to 1450 kilometers around thirty to forty degrees highlighted. The first collisions from recent days appeared as red spheres, then as modeled fields of spreading debris. The affected area grew until several other collisions occurred in a matter of the next twelve hours, shown in two minutes in the simulation.
Feeling her pulse race under the scrutiny, Wallace added the satellite just imaged. “Tom, you’re faster than me with this thing. Add the three interceptors we saw spreading out from what I just tagged as Object 1. Show them colliding with three satellites in nearby orbits. I don’t care which three. Hurry!”
“Doing it now,” he said.
The simulation showed three red trails to other satellites. Then the red collision spheres appeared again. Next came the debris fields, spreading out until they overlapped with the ones from previous impacts. The red spheres blossomed all over the larger sphere of the space projection as impacts with all types of objects tracked by the Space Fence and the satellites occurred. The debris fields became an almost-solid organism, like an ever-growing amoeba devouring the screen as the orbit continued.
Wallace grabbed a pointer made to light up spots in the hologram. “Now. Run it back to the 1935 collision, zoom it in. Forward slo-mo, and show tracks with delta-V on the ten largest pieces of debris.”
Neufeld made the inputs. “What are you looking for?”
“I wasn’t sure at first,” she said. She used the pointer to highlight two chunks of debris. “Sirs, look. This piece of debris, and this one? After the collision, these accelerated. That can’t happen unless they were still being propelled.”
“There’s a lot of uncertainty in this system, Major,” Gauthier said, his southern accent growing stronger. “Let’s go through this more slowly and check your data.”
Wallace responded before her seniors could and more strongly than she meant to. “Sir, do we have time for slow? Our data is good and the interpretation is correct. Sir.”
McGill raised his hand a few inches from the console and slashed it left to right in a gesture only Wallace could see. “Sir,” she said with forced calm, “we have triple phenomenology and know the velocity down to oh-point-two meters per second. Sir.” She sat down hurriedly, her mouth closed.
“Colonel, my officer was a bit abrupt, but ‘Holy hell’ is right. This is a Kessler event, but it’s an artificial Kessler event. Cause a few collisions in the right orbits, put little minimotors on a few pieces you deliberately separate, and watch the results. And I’ll bet that Iranian bird didn’t hit that old fairing by accident, either.”
“Sir, it’s worse than that,” Neufeld said. “Look at debris item 1935-9. It and the one nearest to it. They fragment. They fragment without hitting anything. Dozens of new hazards!”
“So we’re under attack,” Riordan said, with a well-practiced calmness neither he nor anyone else felt. “Who gains the most from something like this?”
On Guardian One, Colonel Schlosser nodded to Major Jenkins to answer. “General, the IPK powers have 13 operational satellites between them, 9 in the hazarded zone. The U.S. and allied militaries have 968. I think the number for the other space powers is around 500. Commercial firms have over 6,000.”
Another holographic face appeared in front of General McGill. “Sir, Colonel Stark in J2. We’ve decoded traffic from Pakistan asking Iran and North Korea what the hell is going on. If this is real, someone screwed the Pakistanis and SUPARCO over and is using their systems without permission. Their Talwar satellite got away from them, this new launch is a complete surprise, and they’re still getting major cyber interference with their space C2.”
Riordan consulted with someone outside his holovision frame. “If this is really an IPK plot, it’s beautiful. Trade nine assets for hundreds or thousands? We always assumed our ability to strike both spacecraft and spaceports created deterrence, but we forgot something. You can’t deter when the enemy has a lot less to lose than you. AND thinks we’re not even going to know who did it.”
McGill said, “General Riordan, we also assumed the threat to orbiting global utilities would deter anyone who used them. These clowns—and we’re not really sure yet whose clowns they are—decided they could live with that. But the attribution’s still muddled. Someone may be using Pakistan and even China as cover. I recommend we ask the president to approve an immediate warning to IPK nations—including Pakistan for now—to cease any maneuvers in space and all launches.”
Riordan nodded. “He’ll need to get the allies on board and do it jointly. Let’s check for context here. J2, what do we have on the ground? Anyone ginning up for war?”
“No one is set for immediate hostilities, we don’t think, General,” Stark replied. “But Iran has gone to a higher defense posture. There are some air-unit movements, and they kicked off a drill yesterday where half their army reservists reported to their units.”
“Thank you,” Riordan said. “What we need to do is blockade space for those countries. Somewhere back in my Academy education, we talked about that. Technically it might even be legal. I’ll speak to Washington. In the meantime, we need to take every precaution to protect our assets. Now what about this damned Chinese ASAT?”
“Now we’ve got two possibilities, sir,” McGill said. “They either launched before this mess by coincidence, or they knew it was happening and waited until we were focused on LEO problems.”
Major Neufeld spoke. “Sir, SpaceBrain is recommending a second wave of moves to protect our LEO satellites from most debris. Also, British are confirming the loss of two comsats and one satellite in the Cook telescope array.”
“Acknowledged,” General McGill said. “Route a Proteus microsatellite swarm in orbit around that new LEO satellite, too, if there’s a carrier that can get there quickly. Make it obvious we’re crawling all over them. Split the other one and protect the NASA and CosmicView space stations, if they’re in the danger zone. See what we or maybe France can do for the UN station. Chinese station will have to take care of itself. Also make sure the FCC and company notify the commercial folks to implement their Kessler contingency plans.”
“Tony, we also have our Guardian One Proteus guards ready to launch,” Schlosser said.
General Hux spoke to Riordan. “With your okay, sir, we’re adding two more Proteus groups.”
“Timeline?”
“Guardian Scout at the Cape is integrating now. They can launch in forty-five minutes if State and Defense waive launch-notification protocols.” He tried to stop any trace of a smile, but one corner of his mouth twitched up for just a second.
Everyone noticed. They all knew this was Hux’s baby. He’d championed having Space Force keep a rapid-launch capability and rotate guardian officers for hands-on experience in a time when almost all launches were contracted out. Now it was front and center. The Proteus carriers released twelve-satellite groups to shadow targets with inspector nanosats that would also sacrifice themselves to deflect impact weapons or major debris.
General Riordan chuckled. “Bill, don’t look so damn smug just because you convinced CSO to keep funding your model-rocket boys. Beers are on me next time. Where are you sending them?”
“One will help protect the UN station. The other will go to a higher orbit to shield the laser.”
“Good. I know we’re going to have power up our friendly neighborhood Space All-altitude Laser to get some of the bigger debris objects. It’ll set some teeth on edge, but we need it. We’ll issue the proper warning notice. Tony, as long as it’s just debris and you’ve got separation, authorize SPALL control to fire at your discretion. If you need to take out a satellite, though, call me back.”
Pakistan Space Center, Rawalpindi
1300Z, 11 June
Colonel Batra dropped the flash drive into a half-full can of wonderfully acidic American-made cola. He crinkled the can shut and buried it deep in the bin from where it would be crushed further, then melted for reuse.
He pondered the near future. He was a man of action, his boldest ideas stifled by his own country but encouraged by the people creating the new caliphate. He himself was a religious man only for appearances’ sake; he didn’t care what they called it. Pretending to be devout for one’s own gain was al-Kaba’ir, one of the great sins under Islamic law, and the punishment was death. To him, that danger just added to the thrill. Being part of a new empire, one where military professionals like himself held sway rather than the unpredictable clerics, meant power, not just wealth. The network he had helped General Mossadeq conceive and nurture was manipulating religious authorities and three governments to establish that empire. He thought of the “trusted channel” the computers here had to counterparts in China and upped that to four governments.
JSOC
“General,” suggested McGill, “we need to authorize Sprint to take out the LEO and GEO threat satellites without debris. According to the recommendations from the last Schriever wargame, it’s politically safer to use ground-based weapons than the laser on foreign satellites. Russia and China can’t complain, since we built Sprint only after they dumped on our proposal back in the Biden administration to limit ground-based ASATs and instead built new ones.”
‘They’ll complain anyway, but I agree,” Riordan said. “I’ll need to take that up through the channel to SecDef and the president, but I’ll light a fire under their—” He stopped to switch to diplomatic language. “I’ll make it quick. I’m also directing SPACECON 2, effective now.”
“Sirs,” Wallace reported. “This is getting redundant, but we’ve got a problem.”
“What now? Klingons?”
“No, sir, it’s that cyberattack. SPALL Control Center connectivity is going in and out.”
“Hell, that’s one of our most secure systems, or I hope it is. Who’s in the Cyber Command Cell?”
A wall monitor came alive and a very young-looking contractor appeared. “Sir, this is David Chang in the Cyber cell. We’ve got an attack along three different paths on the computers connecting SPALL Control Center with the uplinks. Very sophisticated, lots of mutations. Pretty advanced quantum-based stuff. Someone was holding their best tech back until now, I’d say.”
“From who?”
“China, North Korea, and Russia are among the countries with this level, sir. We can’t say which. Sir, this was all-out.”
McGill thought about that a moment. “Does the attack include nuclear command and control?”
“No, sir. STRATCOM Cyber says nuclear systems are good. It’s space focused.”
“Finally, something to be thankful for. Keep us informed.” He shut off the link and said, “We’ll transfer SPALL to the backup control system on Guardian One.”
“Sir?” Wallace asked. “I thought that was still in testing.”
McGill grinned. “No one’s read into everything in this business, Major. Not me and certainly not you.”
Twenty minutes later, the cyber contractor appeared on his screen again. “General, the video from the Sprint base has dropped out, but we’ve restored secure audio. If you want it, I can pipe in the launch preparations.”
“Do so.”
“Have it up in one moment, sir.”
Wallace looked up a schedule. “Sir, the voices should be Major Frank Washington and Major Cindy James, 18th Space Defense Squadron at Vandenberg Forward Operating Location-1. That’s—”
“I remember,” McGill said. “To be sure about treaties, we put the ASATs so they were over a hundred kilometers from the nearest space launch site. General, if you agree we’ll go ahead with two Sprint-L interceptor missiles for LEO and two three-stage Sprint-Gs for GEO.”
“Meaning we need to go to SPACECON 1,” Hux said. “I don’t like how fast we’re ramping up. I feel we’re just barely staying on top of it, if we even are. But they’ve forced our hand here.’
General Riordan nodded agreement. “Go to SPACECON 1. Washington says Sprint launch is authorized.”
The voices from Forward Operating Location-1 (FOL-1) came in, cool and professional.
“Step 50: Both officers confirm Zeus has directed SPACECON 1,” James said, her voice steady.
“Verify SPACECON 1,” returned Washington.
“Step 51: Reconfirm good Enable indication.” “Check.”
“Step 52: Confirm four launches, two salvos, two targets indicated.” “Check.”
“Step 53: Reconfirm all status lights green.” “Check.”
“Step 54: Primary and backup battery lights, all eight green.” “Check.”
“Step 55: Auxiliary power lights.” “Check.”
“Step 56: Guidance Go.” “Check.”
“Step 57: Keys inserted.” “Check.”
“Step 58: Power Arm.” “Check.”
“Step 59,” James said. “Key turn on my mark. Three, two, one, mark!”
“I have good launch on Sprint 1.” “Check.”
Thirty seconds passed as the group in the JSOC leaned unconsciously toward the speakers and tried to picture the environment where the first ASAT ever fired in anger had just been launched.
“I have good launch on Sprint 2.” “Check.”
Two minutes passed.
“I have good launch on Sprint 3.” “Check.”
A final thirty seconds.
“I have a hold on Sprint 4. Guidance Go indicator has gone red. Recycle at Step 22.”
“Agreed, recycling from Step 22.”
In the high, cold darkness above the Pacific Ocean, the thrust termination ports on Sprint 1’s booster second stage opened. The stage backed off, and the ASAT surged ahead. A few kilometers away, the same actions happened for the Sprint 2. At approximately the same time, the second stage of Sprint 3 separated and the third stage ignited.
In the JSOC, McGill took another look at the ASAT as the Sprint grew ever closer. “They’ve popped the covers off those interceptor tubes,” McGill said. “We’d better get this done quick.” He looked again as the visible-light imager captured more and more details. “Majors,” he said slowly, “take a good look at the seeker warheads in the interceptor tubes.”
Neufeld, who had recent experience with ASATs, looked at the seeker heads. Three concentric circles, the outer one showing within it a gold dish from which projected a cylindrical sensor. “I don’t see what you’re noticing, General. It looks like I’d expect.”
“Exactly. Because it looks like one of our old Exoatmospheric Kill Vehicles. That’s either an American Plutronics seeker or a copy, right down to where they placed that little connector on the left side of the dish and what it looks like. On top of everything else, we’ve got industrial espionage on our hands.”
Inside Sprint 1, the computer evaluated the inputs from five navigation satellites, cross-checking with the sensor feed from CORVUS 1 and from the SDA systems, and fired tiny blips of its hydrazine thrusters to adjust its trajectory. Three minutes later, the Sprint’s webbed mechanical arms extended into a catch basket as the spacecraft matched course and speed with the target. The collision was managed at just a few meters per second. The target began thrusting, but Sprint was designed to have more thrust and delta-V than likely targets, and the combined spacecraft began their deorbit.
JSOC
McGill said, “Okay, we’ve launched the first deliberate ASAT attack in history. Now let’s see who does protest.”
“We just found out, sir,” Wallace said. “Apparently someone in China fired off a message that interference with their ‘inspection’ satellite in GEO would not be permitted.”
“Not permitted. Hmmm. Time to GEO intercept?”
“One hour twelve minutes, sir,” Wallace said. “Sir, Sprint 4 is hard broke. USSPACECOM is prepping the Jacksonville site for backup.” She realized how much she was sweating in her gray USSF fatigues despite the coolness of the room—but then, everyone else was too. Her left hand drifted toward the drawer holding the caffeine tablets as she talked. “New incoming traffic being forwarded from SPACECOM Ops Cell.”
“And?”
“Sir, they say Sprint 3 has disappeared!”
“What? How?”
“They lost the feed thirty seconds ago.”
“Confirmed,” Neufeld said.
“Who got them? Cyberattack?”
“No, sir, ISR sources indicate a Chinese laser from the base in Xinjiang.” He looked at a new message. “Sir, we have confirmation it was the laser.”
There was a moment of silence as McGill pondered that. It could, technically, be an act of war. In practice, they couldn’t let it become that. Not while they lacked full information.
“How’d they do it?” Wallace wondered. “How’d they target that far out to a missile moving that fast?”
“I suspect we’ll find they got it when the third stage was still thrusting,” McGill said. “Used infrared telescope to read the heat signature coupled with radar.” He turned toward another console to his left.
“Mr. Logsdon! Come on up here. Take the jump seat.” He pointed to an extra chair on his left with a miniconsole in front of it.
The State Department liaison, Ed Logsdon, took his spot. “Sir, no communication yet from China. The president’s consulting with General Riordan.”
“Do we have indications of any further force ramp-up—IPK countries or China?”
“State has nothing.”
General Hux added, “Intel and IndoPacific Command have nothing new.”
Colonel Schlosser broke in from Guardian One. “Sirs, General, our command links with SPALL are green and all SPALL status indicators are green. Do we have permission to retask it target the Chinese spacecraft?”
“Retask SPALL,” Riordan said. “We’ll warn China one last time, but take no chances. Then resume debris clearance. We are in really, really dangerous territory, and we’ve got the stick because no one else can take all the actions fast enough. According to Major Neufeld’s analysis and what General Hux is showing us from SpaceBrain, we still might be able to strangle this Kessler thing before it gets too big.”
“Copy, General.”
Major Neufeld said, “General, the civilian SpaceSweeper satellites have been retasked and are cleaning up as assigned by SpaceBrain. The commercial constellations have executed their contingencies, moving satellites and so forth. All except one, Argus.”
Mr. Logsdon pulled out an earbud. “Sir, I’m listening on a call with SecState and SecDef. The Argus CEO doesn’t want to implement this, said the value of space constellations is already down ten billion dollars on Wall Street and he’d rather ride it out than look panicked. We’re reminding him this was finalized in their license agreements.”
General Riordan responded. “Tony, Mr. Logsdon, please inform Argus we will not extend Space Force assets to protect their satellites until they follow their agreement. I think he’ll come around.”
“Sir,” McGill asked, “are we losing much military capability yet?”
Riordan held up crossed fingers. “Not bad yet. The layers’ redundancy and the GEO sats are keeping us connected. But it could get worse.”
“Message traffic from Washington, General,” Wallace announced. “Being repeated from China.”
The text appeared on Wallace’s screen as an AI translator using a robotic but not unpleasant female voice added a vocal track. “We regret the necessity of destroying your Sprint antisatellite vehicle. Our satellite is on a peaceful inspection mission that is permitted and was being targeted.”
Logsdon shook his head emphatically. “Our position since those close passes in 2020 has been emphatic. Inspection within someone else’s assigned slice of geostationary orbit is NOT permitted without an agreement.” He paused, his brow wrinkling. “They’re not there to fight. They’re there to push us to see if they can establish a new precedent.”
General Riordan nodded and turned to Ride. “Ask State to tell them no. I suggest we say, ‘As is well known, the United States recognizes no such right. Any approach within one hundred kilometers of our station or depot will be construed as hostile and we will take all necessary measures. In addition, we protest in the strongest possible terms the use of any Chinese technology or equipment in the provisioning and launching of the ASAT vehicle Sprint 1 destroyed.’”
“General,” McGill said, “There’s something else. Sprint 3 wouldn’t have reached their ASAT for an hour. They were either just showing off their laser, or maybe testing it with us providing the target.”
Riordan’s face tightened. “One more thing to deal with after we resolve this crisis.”
Ride asked, “JSOC, can SPALL safely target something that close to Guardian One? I thought it wasn’t tested for GEO at all.”
“Yes, Chief,” McGill replied. “They can use the Proteus guardians as beacons. You’re right we haven’t tried it, but LEO to GEO is a tenth of a second. We need to know what safety margin Guardian One needs, though.”
“We’re on it,” Hux said.
“Space Force Basic Course 101, quoting Joint Publication 3-14,” Wallace said quietly to her console colleagues. “‘Just as the United States would not allow interference with navigation of a ship on the open seas, it will take all necessary measures to ensure there is no interference with free navigation in space.’”
She started as General Riordan replied. She had forgotten his link was still live.
“You don’t have to give me the quote, Major, I wrote it,” he said. “We put an exception in there for regulating navigation in orbits or sectors assigned by treaty, but I can’t remember the last time it came up. Either way, we’re going to protect our people.”
Guardian One
In space, four Proteus nanosatellites were already maneuvering to get as close to the Shǒuhù as possible while remaining between it and Guardian One. As moving satellites keeping station on a moving target, though, they were burning through their hydrazine quickly. The station’s own xenon-fueled ion station-keeping thrusters were activated, but they moved the station off its regular course only very slowly, and the attached spaceplane degraded the performance with its added off-center mass.
JSOC
“Do we have a response from China?” McGill asked.
The AI voice translation came on again, and McGill realized someone had amped up the link so they were talking in text in real time.
“We insist on our right to inspect your station. However, as proof of our peaceful intentions, we are willing to stand off one hundred kilometers during discussion. We will also use our laser to destroy critical debris items threating your satellites as our own requirements permit if you send us targeting data.”
“This is acceptable,” Riordan said.
“Sir, State agrees,” Logsdon said. “I see they didn’t mention the ‘Chinese technology’ part.”
“It would make sense, though, that that figured into their whole ‘peace out’ position,” Wallace said to no one in particular.
The Chinese voice track came back on. “There is a cybernetic attack on our control systems. You have betrayed us.”
Riordan looked startled. “It sure as hell wasn’t us! Tell them we didn’t do it and ask what that means for their ASAT.”
The reply was swift. “Your reckless attack has broken links with our inspection satellite. It has defaulted to a routine directing it to pursue and collide with its surveillance target, which is your Guardian One.”
“We did not do this. This is not an American attack. Ask why we would create a risk to our own station!”
This time, someone in China took a half minute to think. “The cybernetic attack may be from Pakistan, in which case we will retaliate. Can you defend your Guardian?”
“Yes.” McGill looked up, as if he could see his comrades in orbit. “Guardian One, direct Proteus satellites to make minimal-speed magnetic contact with Shǒuhù and try changing its course. Activate the Proteus beacons and SPALL!”
Guardian One
“Acknowledged,” Schlosser said. “Going to protective posture and arming SPALL.”
All over the station, covers extended over sensors and windows while nonessential equipment shut down. “Doesn’t look like the nanosats are affecting it much. Shǒuhù must have a lot of juice. This close, SPALL might fry something on Medaris, but no other choice,” he said grimly. “Wait, is Major Kukral still on board?”
“Yessir,” the spaceplane copilot said from behind him. “She didn’t like a propellant gauge. She decided she was going to recheck the propellant tank safing steps and check the valves manually.”
The colonel looked at his display and that of the SPALL controller next to him, Major McCoy. “One minute to collision. Get her out now!” he called.
“Yessir!”
The last act began in high LEO, where SPALL rotated to train its laser. The compact reactor inside fed in a megawatt of power, and the SPALL tracking antennas picked up the Proteus signals.
“Where’s Kukral?” Schlosser barked.
“Headed for the airlock.”
“Dammit, hurry her up! We’re going to die in about 30 seconds.” He gritted his teeth and punched in a code as he nodded to McCoy to make the last control inputs. “Fifteen seconds to impact, authorizing SPALL to fire on best solution NOW!”
The AI controller on SPALL had aligned itself using signals from Proteus, Guardian One’s radar, its own low-power laser ranging device, and SDA sources. In less than a second, the beam flashed from LEO to GEO.
The Shǒuhù was pushed away by the photon pressure and outgassing of its surface under intense heat even as its structure began to melt and collapse. In a few more seconds, it was a lump of melted metal and silicon, with debris spinning off, most of it spreading away from Guardian One.
Two loud pings reverberating through the station, one startlingly close to Schlosser’s command console, told them they hadn’t been entirely missed. Within the space of seconds the station shuddered, first as if punched from the left, then as if punched from below. A third, more muffled, impact sound came from the area of Docking Port 2. Half the lights went out, a built-in action when power levels dropped. Their LCD panels blinked, but came back. Schlosser could hear thrusters going on and off as the autopilot stabilized the station.
“Status!”
“Airtight integrity’s looks like high nineties, sir,” the engineer floating up behind Schlosser said. “We can handle that. Structural integrity looks good so far.” He asked the panel near him for a different set of readouts. “At first look, reflected energy and debris took out one telescope, two unprotected cameras, and the backup quantum transmitter. Solar Array 1 took a big one. Batteries are taking up the slack.”
The copilot spoke up. “Sir, the Medaris took a bad debris hit. Atmosphere’s dropping to zero and most readouts are dead. “
“Did Major Kukral get out?”
The engineer spoke hesitantly. “Sir, one more second and we’d have all been destroyed.”
“What are you not telling me?”
The copilot floated closer, his face white. “She waved off the airlock crew. She left us intact and took her chances.”
JSOC
2003Z, 13 June 2019
Major Neufeld tried his best to speak over the excited voices and applause for SPALL’s success which resounded from all circuits. “General Riordan, General McGill, SpaceBrain’s projections of the Kessler event indicate we reduced damage enough that most debris bigger than a marble is being cleared.”
McGill saw wavering in one of the holo displays and traced it back to Major Wallace’s suddenly unsteady fingers. He leaned close.
“Major?” he whispered.
“Sir.” The word dragged itself out between her teeth. “General, request ten minutes off console.”
“Granted.”
She vanished.
McGill waved another officer into her spot and rejoined the main conversation.
“More good news,” General Riordan was saying. “We see China’s acting with its laser as promised.”
Neufeld maneuvered his display with his hands. “We’ll likely still lose several more satellites in the Transport Layer and below, General. We’ll need to keep up all the cleaning efforts as long as we can.”
“Acknowledged,” Riordan said. “Our future launches will need a lot of replanning, but we’re still in business. Mr. Logsdon?”
“General, State and Defense are coordinating response to China over their role in our officer’s death.”
Neufeld winced as the pen in McGill’s hand snapped like a matchstick before the general could compose himself.
“It’s going to be touchy,” Riordan continued, “but my assessment is we won’t go to war. The demonstration of SPALL and our other capabilities caught everyone’s attention at just the right time. A little shock and awe never hurts. Their ‘inspection’ gambit happening during this event was a coincidence in timing. But they or the Iranians, we don’t know which yet, need to answer for that seeker head too.”
Neufeld felt the fatigue wash over him. McGill had supported his and Wallace’s request to be on console whenever McGill was, but caffeine and adrenaline could only do so much. “I’d hate to be Iran right now,” he said.
“Or North Korea,” a voice he recognized as Chang came on. “We’ve neutralized the attacks and traced them to the culprits. Cyber Command approved a strike on a cyberwarfare and satellite control center and the air defense around it.”
General Riordan nodded. His holographic face, wearied by the events of the last day, turned toward the JSOC crew who were in turn visible to him. “Good work to you and your crew, Tony. The fallout here will keep us and the diplomats busy for a while. Pakistan has arrested a rogue officer in cahoots with Iran. Everyone’s gunning for Iran: I’d expect sanctions and probably a lot worse. In the meantime, we’ll break the relay links in North Korea they use to complete their satellite control connections. General Hux, what do we have on the North Korean site?”
Hux traded nods with his intelligence officer and looked at his watch. “I’ll answer that for everyone in about forty-five minutes.”
USS Enterprise (CVN-80)/Carrier Air Wing Nine
Korea Strait
2140Z, 13 June 2034
On the Northerly Threat Axis at 50 kilometers and angels 15, Captain Jon “Irish” Flannigan, Commander Carrier Air Wing Nine, circled with his package of twenty-two Super Lightning strike fighters plus their electronic warfare and tanker drone companions. His aircraft had launched, completed inflight refueling, and rendezvoused with hardly a glitch. The brass made it clear they didn’t just want to damage this target: the strike plan was meant to leave a lasting impression.
His earpiece beeped. “Champion Lead, Hummer 13. Cougar Strike passes you are cleared to push. I say again, you are cleared to push. Switch Tactical and happy hunting, Champion Flight.”
With North Korea’s C2 air node out of commission thanks to the cyber geniuses, plus the Air Force fighters out of South Korea flying cover and defense suppression, this would indeed be a show to remember. The General Satellite Control Center near Pyongyang was deemed too sensitive, but an installation northwest of Kuupri airbase, with satellite control and relay antennas plus buried cyberwarfare centers, was having visitors.
Irish called “feet dry” to the Big E and pushed his throttles up to reach his ingress airspeed.
JSOC
“That’s it,” Logsdon said as they watched the smoke and explosions from the satellite control base.
“I wonder if the Navy or the Air Force might have broadened the strike plan a little bit,” Neufeld said dryly, noting more smoke rising from the direction of the airbase itself. “Sir, why did they risk the planes? They could have used the Skybolts for a kinetic attack from orbit.”
“The titanium ‘Rods from God’? The SecDef thought it best to keep those in reserve and not show anyone we have them. Besides, the Space Force can’t have all the glory. Let the other branches think they still matter,” McGill added with a tired wink.
“And the First Space War is over,” General Riordan proclaimed, more relief than triumph in his voice.
McGill looked thoughtful. “For some of us,” he muttered, in a voice no one heard.
He knocked on the privacy cubicle. “Laura, let’s talk.”
She let him in. “Sir, I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but I was on a personal call. I was—”
“I know why you were here,” he said. “Kukral’s family.”
Wallace snapped her phone off. “You knew we were—”
He closed the door. “You were top-secretly engaged. You going to be together as soon as she divorced Dr. Stewart.” He raised a hand and covered up the rank board on his right shoulder. “Laura, I don’t care who my people marry or sleep with, but I hear almost every fact and rumor whether I want to or not. Off-off-off the record, that’s why I’ve spoken to Colonel Gauthier once about hitting on younger officers including you. He was going to oppose anything you said, which is why I let you get away with that. Besides, I’ve seen you and Major Kukral in the same room. You’re in love. I’m sorry. I know how you feel right now.”
Something snapped in her. “How would you? General—sir”—she looked at where he still had his rank covered up—“no, you don’t. Your family’s safe in Dallas. I know you mean well, but you haven’t lost anyone like this.” She fought back tears and didn’t quite succeed. “I’m sorry, sir, I’m sorry.”
A spark of anger flashed in McGill’s brain for a moment, and he bit his lip to shut it down. “Laura, I know why you say that. Now this no-rank thing is good for one more minute while you look up the last conflict they called the ‘First Space War.’ The Persian Gulf. Look up the B-52 that went down over the Indian Ocean.”
She picked up her secure Spacemilnet comm unit and spoke quietly into it. “B-52, 8 February 1991, call sign Hulk 42, three men lost, navigator Captain Eric McGill . . . . . . . . . Oh, my God, he was your father.”
“I was a kid. But I know what you’re feeling.”
She straightened her back and met his gaze. “I understand, sir.”
“Major Kukral willingly risked her life. A hit like that with an open airlock could have killed us all.
“Laura, you can take time off, or ask for anything else you need.” He took the hand off his rank. “However, you’ve got two jobs to do, one now and one later. Later will be escorting Lieutenant Colonel Kukral’s body to meet her family at Arlington for the award of the Silver Star and her burial. Right now is we have a changed world to adapt to and a nation to protect. And this conversation never happened. So get back on console and do shift change. Ready?”
“Yes, sir.”
***
Matt Bille is a former Air Force ICBM officer and now a science writer, historian, and novelist living in Colorado Springs. He is the author of the NASA-sponsored history The First Space Race: Launching the World’s First Satellite (Texas A&M, 2004) and numerous papers and articles on space. He is also a defense and space consultant for the firm Booz Allen Hamilton and an early advocate of microsatellites and responsive launch. This story was written by the author in his personal capacity. Matt can be reached via his website www.mattbilleauthor.com.
This story is dedicated to L. J. Hachmeister: science fiction writer, humanitarian, rescuer of puppies, and my friend to infinity and beyond.