Read Starfire Online

Authors: Dale Brown

Starfire (13 page)

“But you're not an astronaut, Mr. President!”
Hastings shouted again. “You're the
president of the United States
! You're not paid to take risks like that! With all due respect, Mr. President . . . are you completely
insane
?”

“He's not insane, Hastings,” Kai Raydon retorted, angered by her unprofessional outburst. “And now that he's had the courage to fly into orbit, he most certainly
is
an astronaut—a pretty damn good one, it turns out. He proved that any healthy, teachable, level-headed individual can become an astronaut if he so chooses, without years of physical training or scientific or engineering education.”

The bedlam seemed to subside, as if Raydon was a middle-school teacher admonishing his class to settle down and get to work, but the president could see that group of reporters was getting pretty riled up, and he was ready to wrap this up. “Any more questions?” he asked.

Another well-known television anchor seated in the front row got to his feet. “Mr. President, these space industrial proposals sound interesting, but they also sound expensive, as I'm sure everything dealing with space can be. You have been campaigning for well over a year on fiscal responsibility and paying for every new government program. How do you propose to pay for all this? You said you were going to cancel, postpone, or downsize other programs. Which ones?”

“I'm planning on targeting programs that I feel are costly, unnecessary, bloated, outdated, and wasteful, Mr. Wells,” the president said. “I have a long list of proposals that I will present to the congressional leadership. The three categories that make up eighty percent of the national budget—entitlements, defense, and discretionary spending—all need to be addressed. Modernizing our nation's defense and preparing for the challenges of the twenty-second century is my absolute priority.”

“So you're going to build space weapons by cutting Social Security, Medicare, Medicaid, and the Affordable Care Act?” a reporter asked.

“I want to stop adding more government entitlement programs, and I want to see real reforms in all entitlement programs so they can survive the century,” the president responded. “I think we can find cost savings when we do real reforms, which we can use to modernize defense. The same can be said about the military itself. One example would be a significant reduction of nuclear weapons in the American arsenal.” He could see another flurry of tapping and scribbling, and digital recorders moved closer to the speakers set up in the press briefing room. “I am going to propose that we reduce the number of nuclear warheads on alert from the current level of approximately seven hundred down to about three hundred.”

The level of excitement in the press briefing room began to rise again. “But, Mr. President, don't you think with what's happened in the South China Sea and western Pacific—China setting off a nuclear depth charge, firing on ships, downing our aircraft, and attacking Guam, not to mention Russia's military resurgence—that this is the absolute worst time to be reducing our nuclear deterrent?”

“You've answered your own question, Mr. Wells,” the president said. “We currently have about seven hundred nuclear warheads ready to strike within a few hours' time, but exactly what have they deterred? Russia, China, and other nations in response have all grown stronger and bolder. And when we retaliated, what kind of weapons did we use to stop them? Precision-guided nonnuclear weapons launched from aircraft and spacecraft.

“I feel the nuclear deterrent is no longer relevant and should be drastically downsized,” the president repeated. “The Russians took care of a lot of the downsizing during the American Holocaust, of course, with a horrendous loss of American lives. But there has been a lot of talk about replacing the bomber and intercontinental-ballistic-missile fleet, and I'm not going to endorse that. I propose that the strategic nuclear submarine fleet be the only forces on day-to-day nuclear alert, and it will be reduced so that only four strategic nuclear ballistic-missile submarines will be on alert, two in the Pacific and two in the Atlantic, with four more ready to put to sea on short notice. A few tactical air forces stationed on land and sea will be poised to generate forces for nuclear alert within a few days, if needed.”

The shocked, incredulous expressions on the correspondents' faces had returned—the reporters who were not texting back to their editors on handheld devices were making stunned comments to their colleagues, the noise level quickly rising. The president knew that this news conference was all but over, but he had a few more bombshells to let loose: “Not all the cuts will be from defense, but most will,” he went on. “I propose to decrease the number of Army and Marine Corps personnel and weapon systems such as tanks and artillery, reduce the number of aircraft-carrier battle groups down to eight, and cancel future purchases of ships such as the Littoral Combat Ship and aircraft such as the F-35 Lightning fighter-bomber.”

“But, Mr. President, don't you feel that you're gutting the military at a time when we should be gearing up the military to prepare to oppose adversaries such as China and Russia, both of whom have attacked us repeatedly in recent years?” a correspondent asked. “Are you going to replace these canceled weapon systems with something else?”

“Yes, in two key twenty-first- and twenty-second-century national security imperatives: space, and cyberspace,” the president replied. “I will propose that the bulk of American long-range offensive military systems be deployed from space or Earth orbit, and the bulk of our defensive military systems be deployed from cyberspace. The United States should dominate both realms, and I am going to see to it that America does exactly that. If we fail to do this, we will quickly and inevitably lose, and that's not going to happen on my watch. America will dominate space and cyberspace like we used to dominate the world's oceans. That is my mission, and I will expect Congress and the American people to support me. Are there any other questions for me?”

“Yes, sir, I have many,” Margaret Hastings said. “What exactly do you mean by ‘dominating' space and cyberspace? How do you intend to dominate them?”

“For one: by no longer tolerating the actions that have persisted over the past several years and are almost considered part of the price of doing business,” Phoenix said. “For example, I am told that American companies, government agencies, and military computers detect intrusions and outright attacks on a daily basis from governments all over the world, either sponsored by a government entity or done directly by a government. That will no longer be tolerated. A computer attack will be treated like any other attack. The United States will respond appropriately to any cyberattack.

“I am also told that American reconnaissance satellites are hit by lasers to blind or destroy optics; that jamming satellites are placed into orbit near our satellites to disrupt them; and that American GPS signals are jammed on a regular basis. I am told that several nations hit this very station on a daily basis with lasers, microwaves, and other electromagnetic forms of energy to try to damage or disrupt operations here. That will no longer be tolerated. Any such attack will be dealt with accordingly. We will closely monitor Earth orbit for any signs of possible interference or attack by any nation or entity. An American satellite in orbit, as well as the orbit itself, is sovereign American territory, and we will defend it just like any other American resource.”

“Excuse me, sir,” Hastings said, “but did you just say that you consider
Earth orbit
American property? Do you mean to say that no other nation can put a spacecraft into orbit if the United States already has a satellite in that orbit?”

“That's exactly what I'm saying, Miss Hastings,” Phoenix said. “A common technique for attacking American space assets is to launch an antisatellite weapon into the same orbit, chase it down, and destroy it when within range. That is how the Russians destroyed our Kingfisher weapon garage after knocking parts of it out of commission with directed-energy weapons, with the loss of an American astronaut. Any spacecraft launched into the same orbit as an American satellite will be considered a hostile act and will be dealt with appropriately.”

The bedlam that was growing and threatening to go out of control in the White House Press Briefing Room did not subside this time, and the president knew that it probably wouldn't for a very long time. “Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, thank you,” the president said, ignoring the upraised hands and shouted questions. “I think it's time to share a meal with the astronauts aboard station . . .” He turned to Raydon, smiled, and added, “. . . my
fellow
astronauts, and prepare to return to Washington. Good night from Armstrong Space Station, and may God bless the United States of America.” He saw so much clamor on the monitor that he doubted if anyone heard his sign-off.

“Good speech and good responses to questions, Mr. President,” Vice President Ann Page said a few moments later after her image reappeared on the director's station monitor in the command module. “A lot of veteran astronauts have trouble doing press conferences down on Earth, let alone just minutes after arriving in space for the first time. I didn't leak any parts of the military restructuring, as you requested, so everyone in the world got it all at once. The phones are even now ringing off the hook. Are you going to take any calls up on station?”

Phoenix thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. “I'm going to call Alexa, and then I'm going to sit down with the space station crew, try some of their food, check on poor Charlie Spellman, check out a little more of station, and prepare for the return flight. We talked about responses to several questions we anticipate reporters and heads of state will ask, and I'll let you handle those until I get back and get checked over by the docs. The last thing I want to do is spend my last couple hours on station talking on the phone.”

“I hear you, sir,” Ann said. “I'll take the calls from heads of state, then the major media outlets. You enjoy yourself up there. No more spacewalks, okay, sir? Go through the docking tunnel like the rest of us mere space travelers.”

“If you insist, Miss Vice President,” President Phoenix said with a smile. “If you insist.”

THREE

The mere apprehension of a coming evil has put many into a situation of the utmost danger.

—M
ARCUS
A
NNAEUS
L
UCANUS

T
HE
W
ATERGATE
H
OTEL

W
ASHINGTON
, D.C.

T
HAT
SAME
TIME

“Of course I saw it!” former U.S. senator, Senate majority leader, and secretary of state Stacy Anne Barbeau exclaimed on the phone, staring dumbstruck at the large high-def television in her hotel suite. “Get the senior staff in here
right
now
!”

Despite being in her early sixties, Stacy Anne Barbeau was still a beautiful, energetic, ambitious woman and a veteran politician. But those in the know knew that Barbeau was not a sweet Louisiana magnolia—she was a venus flytrap, using her beauty and southern charms to disarm and disable men and women alike into lowering their defenses and submitting to her wishes, willingly clamped tightly between her ruby-red lips. The whole world had known for a decade that she had presidential ambitions, and now those ambitions had been transformed into a high-powered, well-funded campaign that had maintained a small but consistent lead in the race against incumbent president Kenneth Phoenix . . .

. . . a race that had just been turned on its ear with that unexpected news conference from space.

Barbeau's Washington campaign headquarters occupied an entire floor in the Watergate Hotel and office building. She had just returned to her hotel suite from a fund-raising dinner and turned on the news to watch the press conference, full of energy and excitement over another successful appearance. Now she stood in complete shock, listening to the stunned and flabbergasted commentators trying to make sense of what they had just seen: the president of the United States speaking to the world from Earth orbit.

Luke Cohen, Barbeau's campaign manager and chief adviser, was the first to dash into her hotel suite. “That had to be faked or CGI'd,” he said breathlessly. Cohen, a tall, thin, good-looking New Yorker, had been Barbeau's chief of staff during her years as Senate majority leader and as secretary of state. “No president of the United States would ever be stupid enough to fly into space, especially six months before an election!”

“Shush, I'm listening,” Barbeau said. Cohen turned away to answer his cell phone while she listened to the commentary.

“CNN,” Cohen said at the next break. “They want five minutes.”

“They can have two,” Barbeau said. An aide whose only job was to record every word that came out of Barbeau's mouth rushed in, tablet computer at the ready. “It was the most audacious, sensationalist, dangerous, and irresponsible election-year stunt I have ever seen in my thirty years in Washington,” she recited. “President Phoenix is risking the safety and security of the entire nation and the free world with this reckless act. I seriously question his judgment, as should all Americans. For the good of the nation, as soon as he returns, he should undergo a series of medical and psychological examinations to check to see if he has suffered any ill effects of traveling in space, and if any are found he should immediately thereupon resign his office.” The aide tapped a button, and the words were sent to Barbeau's chief speechwriter, who would put together talking points for her and the campaign's spokespersons within minutes.

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