Brown, Dale - Independent 01 (18 page)

 
          
MOSCOW
,
USSR

 
          
“Are you crazy, Govorov?” First
Deputy Minister of Defense Khromeyev asked in a low, biting tone. Both Govorov
and Deputy Minister of Defense Rhomerdunov, commander in chief of the Soviet
Aerospace Forces, stood at attention in Khromeyev’s spacious office just
outside Minister of Defense Czilikov’s conference chamber. Govorov had caged
his eyes forward, unblinking, but Rhomerdunov’s eyes followed Khromeyev’s
nervous pacing. The two senior officers had once spent eighteen straight days
together in a muddy foxhole in Mukacevo near Budapest during the last weeks of
the Great Patriotic War forty-eight years earlier, and there was little
Khromeyev could say or do that could really frighten Rhomerdunov. The chief of
the general staff finally waved both Rhomerdunov and Govorov to chairs.

           
“Sergei,”
Rhomerdunov urged, “listen to what General Govorov has to say—”

           
“We’ve
heard it before, Alexi,” Khromeyev said. “Your cosmonaut has already made quite
a name for himself in the Kremlin, thanks to his rather undisciplined speech
before the Kollegiya. Now he wants to speak with the minister of defense
again
about postponing Operation
Feather.” Khromeyev stared at both Rhomerdunov and Govorov for long, tense
moments. “What the hell is going on, Govorov? Is this some sort of challenge to
your superior? A move for attention? Minister of Defense Czilikov spoke with
Marshal Lichizev. The GRU knows of no such super-radar on board the American
space station Armstrong. They acknowledge that the sensor capabilities of the
station are indeed advanced, but not advanced enough to track hundreds of land,
air and sea vessels for millions of cubic kilometers—let alone direct the
defenses of the American rapid deployment force in the region.”

           
Khromeyev
abruptly moderated his voice. “The minister of defense appreciates your concern
and attention to detail, General Govorov. But he has conducted his own surveys
of members of the Kollegiya and of the scientific community and decided that
the space station Armstrong is not a threat to the success or failure of
Feather. Your comments have been duly noted but—”

           
Govorov
could no longer take it. “Excuse me, sir, but it isn’t necessary to address me
like an overzealous child. I’m willing to stake my professional career on what
I say. If Feather is to succeed, if this country is ever to be secure, the
space station Armstrong has got to be destroyed or at least crippled.”

           
“That’s enough....
Rhomerdunov,” Khromeyev said, now ignoring Govorov, “I can’t allow this
insubordinate officer of yours to see the minister of defense. He’ll have all
our heads, and he’ll be right. I suggest, Alexi, that you explain the chain of
command to General Lieutenant Govorov. Have him review the oath he took,
especially the part about unquestioningly carrying out the requirements of all
military regulations and orders of commanders and superiors. He seems to have a
deficient memory in that area. Explain to him that if we were not approaching a
period of great need he would be relieved of his position. Be sure that he
understands that the Kollegiya is not here for his personal aggrandizement.
Dismissed, damn it.”

           
Rhomerdunov
could barely wait until he was back into his staff car. “Govorov, your career
may have ended five minutes ago. Aerospace Forces won’t be heavily involved
with Feather—the minute things calm down you’ll be relieved of duty and
reassigned—”

           
“No.”

           
“Very brave
of you, Alesander. Brave to the last. Your big mouth has destroyed you, just as
I warned you it would.”

           
“And I tell
you that this has not ended. I remember my oath of allegiance very well. I
swore to protect my country and my people to the last drop of blood in my body.
I’m
trying
to do that.” As the dark
Mercedes sedan swung onto the heavily crowded
Volokolamskoje
Highway northwest
toward
Moskovskij
International
Airport
,
Govorov turned intently to his superior officer.

           
“I need
authorization, sir,” he said in a low voice. “One launch. In twenty days.
Aboard the Elektron....”

           
Rhomerdunov’s
face drained. “Elektron... ? Govorov, you
are
a fool.” He shook his head, speaking almost to himself, as if the young officer
was no longer in the car. “I was wrong to try to support your ideas.... You’re
letting your obsession cloud your common sense.” “You know damn well that’s not
true, sir. What I’m saying is a fact. ... The power of Armstrong Station, the
danger our forces will face because of it—all true. Feather will be crushed or
at least helplessly stalled in the mountains or the
Arabian Sea
.
A stalemate for Feather is just as bad as a defeat. It is a defeat
..
.please, hear me out.... The Space Defense Command has
the ability to stop Armstrong Station from becoming the pivotal unit in the American
defense. Three Elektron spaceplanes armed with Scimitar hypervelocity
projectile missiles—”

           
“Scimitar?
What the hell are those? I’ve never heard of
them.” “Code-named
Bavinash.
Low-cost, so-called throwaway missiles developed in secret by my people. They
are little more than long bottles of gas with a molybdenum-uranium
armor-piercing nose and a rocket engine. An Elektron can carry ten of them on a
rotary launcher in the cargo hold. They’re laser-guided from Elektron and they
fly at nearly a kilometer a second to their target. They—”

           
“You have a
weapon designed for the Elektron spaceplane? But the Elektron is a cargo ship,
a damn space taxi. Whatever possessed you to develop an offensive weapon for
it? In
secret
, no less....”

           
Govorov
allowed a smile. “It was an American idea, actually. When I first flew the
Elektron five years ago the Americans were convinced it was a Soviet space
fighter plane. Ordinarily I wouldn’t have paid any attention to such blatant
anti-Soviet propaganda ploys —at the time the Americans were trying to
discredit
our
shuttle program to mask
their own shuttle failures. But the idea intrigued me, and I did some research
to discover the exact plans for the so-called Soviet space fighter-plane. I was
shocked to learn there were
no
such
plans. So when I was chosen to head the Space Defense Command I began a secret
program to develop a twenty-first-century space force that would be
superior....”

           
Rhomerdunov
was speechless, not able to take in what he was hearing. But as the Mercedes swung
onto the specially constructed off-ramp from the
Volokolamskoje
Highway
, he turned to Govorov, shaking his head.

           
“These
so-called
Bavinash
missiles ... are
they ... ready for use?” “Within twenty days, sir.” Govorov felt his face flush
with excitement, realizing that Rhomerdunov was at least listening to him. “I
have already given orders.... Two Elektron spaceplanes will be readied at
Tyuratam for launch in three weeks. Each will be fitted with ten Scimitar
missiles—more than sufficient to destroy the American space station. As long as
it exists our own survival is only a matter of time—”

 
         
“You
have already given the orders?”

           
Govorov
checked himself. Now, with Rhomerdunov interested in the project, this was the
time for fence mending. He didn’t want his superior thinking him a loose
cannon.

           
“I have
briefed my staff on the project, yes. But, of course, it waits for your
approval. I have not ordered any attacks on Armstrong, per your orders and the
orders of the Kollegiya. But I felt that, under my limited authority, at least
the groundwork should be laid for preparation of the Elektrons, should my
observations on the capabilities of Armstrong’s space-based radar be true....”

           
The
Mercedes slowed and stopped at a guard house on the outskirts of
Moscow
Airport
. Papers were exchanged and
a quick search of the car was conducted by an army sergeant accompanied by a
Rottweiller guard dog. Rhomerdunov, distracted by what he’d heard, did not
protest when the massive black-and-tan animal was allowed to sniff the interior
of the car for explosives. A few moments later the car was speeding toward the
separate VIP terminal where Rhomerdunov’s jet was waiting.

           
Inside the
terminal’s waiting room Rhomerdunov finally spoke to Govorov: “I’ve been
ordered to
Tashkent
, to supervise
the southern TVD air defenses in case retaliatory strikes into the
Soviet
Union
occur during Feather. Otherwise I would go with you back to
Tyura- tam to inspect this... this so-called secret space force you’ve
developed. Bear this is mind, General Govorov. Normally I would consider all
you have said and done as the ultimate in insubordination and abuse of power.
The secret development of a weapon, regardless of its necessity, its use, or
the intentions of its developer, is a treasonable offense. If the information
about this Scimitar missile or the arming of Elektron spaceplanes leaks out and
is discovered by the Politburo or the general staff, you may find yourself in
Lubylanka Prison for a very long stay.”

           
Govorov
kept quiet, and it was then that Rhomerdunov decided to trust the young
officer. There were really only two choices: ignore Govorov and quietly remove
him as a threat to Rhomerdunov’s authority, or believe in him and his
convictions and back him. If Govorov had shown any hesitation or uncertainty,
Rhomerdunov would have let the matter die then and there. But with his steely
blue eyes convincingly steady, Govorov looked, spoke and acted like a man
firmly committed to his beliefs. And just because those beliefs were hugely
upsetting didn’t make them wrong. It would have been easier to believe Govorov
was carried away by his
idee fixe.
But if he was crazy, he was the most intelligent and well-organized psychopath
in history.           

           
“We must
take steps, Govorov, to be sure that the development of this Scimitar missile,
the arming of Elektron spaceplanes and the formation of a space-borne attack
unit have been
thoroughly
documented.
These programs must become authorized as revived projects of the Aerospace
Forces and the Space Defense Command, not as the clandestine and illegal
activities of a renegade.”

           
Govorov’s
attention was on the word
we,
and he
had to struggle to resist the urge to break out into an unmilitary cheer.
Deputy First Minister of Defense Rhomerdunov had just identified himself with
the plans. There was still hope....

           
“We’ll
discuss this further, Alesander.”

           
Govorov
nodded, noticing that boarding preparations were being completed. An air force
Starshiy Serzhant
came up now to
Rhomerdunov and reported that his plane was ready for boarding. Govorov picked
up Rhomerdunov’s briefcase and carried it to the boarding ramp outside an
Antonov An-72 military transport jet.

           
“Sir.”
Govorov handed the briefcase to a crewmember but looked directly at
Rhomerdunov. “About my ongoing preparations ... ?”

           
“They are
to continue. Quietly. I will contact you when it’s possible. Be prepared to
fully brief myself and the Kollegiya on the project.” He paused as a few
officers stepped behind him: “And be prepared to dismantle it. Both with equal
speed.”

           
Govorov
saluted, and Rhomerdunov stepped onto the escalator and disappeared from sight.

 
          
ARMSTRONG SPACE STATION

           
“It’s
ready.”

           
Kevin Baker
and Ann Page floated next to Baker’s master laboratory-computer console,
looking expectantly at a “READY” message on the terminal screen. Baker
maneuvered himself down to the console near a microphone but then stopped short
and motioned to Ann.

           
“Be my
guest.”

           
Ann slipped
down to the microphone. “Toaster checksum.” Her words were typed across the
computer monitor screen, and immediately a message flashed across the screen:
“TOASTER. CHECKSUM READY.”

           
“Run,” Ann
said.

           
Instantly a
chart was drawn on the screen showing a graphic presentation of the
sixteen-thousand memory locations available in the Skybolt superconducting
circuit relay. The screen asked, “WOULD YOU LIKE A TEST RESULT PRINTOUT?”

           
“Yes,” Ann
told it.

           
Another
prompt requested, “READY TO START.”

           
Ann said,
“Start,” and immediately several columns were filled with figures representing
the memory location being examined by the computer.

           
“I can’t
believe you put this together in just eight hours,” Ann said to Baker. “I
couldn’t have done it in eight weeks.”