[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
Fade Out by
Patrick Tilley
Published by Orbit Books.
ISBN:1 85723 828 1.
To my wife Janine who, as always, helped me in every possible way but didn't want her contribution acknowledged. This one is for you. With love.
Fade Out by Patrick Tilley.
Mckenna was the last one through the door. As he shut it behind him the President said, Maybe you'd all better sit down.'
Claysore Fraser, Samuels, and Wedderkind each took the nearest chair. Mckenna chose one end of the wide ledge of the window facing the sea. Connors took the other corner. As he settled back against the glass, he caught Fraser looking at him warily.
"The talk I've had with my friend in Moscow,' said the President, 'and the unequivocal nature of the reassurances I have received make it quite clear that our preliminary conclusions about this spacecraft are based
on a fundamental error.'
"You mean it's not a weapons system?' Fraser sounded disappointed.
"I mean it's not Russian.'
The reaction, predictably, was one of stunned disbelief.
"Or anyone else we know.'
"You mean,' said Clayson, 'it's - ?'
Extraterrestrial. The thought exploded like a star-shell inside Wedderkind's brain. Sentient life, perhaps. Some kind of artefact, at least. From another planet. Another solar system. Maybe even from another galaxy. Here. Overhead. Within his own lifetime. It was ...
Friday, August 3rd, MMOFFUTT AIR FORCE BASE, OMAHA, NEBRASKA
For the Headquarters Staff of the Strategic Air Command, it was the tensest situation they'd faced since the Cuban missile crisis of 1962.
Created in 1946 as the backbone of America's nuclear deterrent policy,
SAC had been, and still was, the best equipped, most highly trained and motivated force in the world. Its organization was superb, its planning faultless - a brilliant fusion of American money, skill, and dedication.
That dedication had been needed. For over forty years, SACS bombers had stayed alert and ready behind an increasingly sophisticated screen of electronic devices that monitored every move the Russians made.
Suddenly, at 11'13 A.M. Central Standard Time, every radar screen SAC owned turned into a plate of luminous spaghetti.
Momentarily off balance; SAC started burning the wires between Omaha and the North American Air Defense Headquarters at Ent AFB, in neighbouring Colorado. Roughly translated, the high-speed teleprinter message asked just what in hell was happening. NORAD couldn't tell them. The worldwide network of American owned radar stations, designed to give early warning of a sneak Russian missile attack, was feeding back nothing but confused static to NORAD's Operations Center deep inside the Cheyenne Mountains.
Instead of tracking Russian planes and missiles, setting up interception courses and simultaneously relaying the appropriate instructions to all Air Defense Command bases, the serried ranks of computers at the heart of the complex system clicked and whirred like distraught fruit machines. It was a totally unforeseen and frightening breakdown of the most foolproof system ever devised by man.
For years, both the Americans and Russians had spent billions of dollars trying to find a way to jam each other's radar defences. Was this sudden snafu proof of a Russian breakthrough? And if it was, would they follow it up with a Sunday punch?
General William Mitchell Allbright, Commander in Chief, Strategic Air Command, pondered these questions as he took the elevator down from the daylight to his underground headquarters at MOFFUTT AFB. To Allbright, it looked like the moment he and the rest of the SAC staff had spent the better part of their lives preparing for.
Allbright had already set things in motion from his upstairs office in the yellow brick headquarters building. As he settled into his basement seat, he got a quick rundown from his senior staff. The around-the-clock airborne patrols were already on their way to failsafe points around the globe. The remaining aircraft, streaming off runways scattered across the USA, would fly to similar holding points, their radios tuned in on SAC's special side-band communications network over which would come the crucially important Presidential Go-Code that would, if necessary, transform this defensive alert into an all-out attack on Russia.
But something had gone badly wrong. Contact had been lost with the orbiting Air Force communications and navigation satellites, and the static that was fouling the radar screens was also causing severe fade-out on the vital UHF frequencies that would carry the President's order. And without radar responses, there was nothing coming down the line from NORAD in Colorado. Nothing for the millions of dollars' worth of machinery to translate into coloured position markers on the huge situation maps. Nothing to show what might - or might not - be on its way in from Russia.
Their birds may already be up, thought Allbright - and we are flying blind. His wife and daughter were on vacation in Santa Barbara, California. His son was in his fourth and final year at the Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs. From the intelligence reports he had read on Soviet targeting, Allbright knew that both places lay within designated first-strike zones. If the Russians had launched their nuclear missiles, it meant that his family would be obliterated within the next seven to ten minutes.
Allbright lifted his gold telephone and conferred with the Joint Chiefs of Staff in Washington. They had an open line to the Secretary of Defense who, in turn, was briefing the President on the situation. Washington was desperately trying to establish the degree and nature of the crisis that seemed to have engulfed them - and whether or not it had been engineered by the Russians.
Five minutes and forty-two seconds after Allbright had called the alert, the last of SAC's big B-52s lifted off the runway at Loring AFB, Maine. It wasn't the best reaction time the crew had turned in, but they had blown a tyre on the main undercarriage and had had to stop to change a wheel. A! !bright reported to Washington that his entire force was airborne.
At 11:23, after ten minutes of total fade-out, the White House authorized Allbright to bring his ICBMS to Condition Red.
Instantaneously, via armoured underground telephone lines, the signal went out to alert the crews of the concrete missile silos sunk deep into the wheatfields and the Rocky Mountain spine of the Midwest. Keys turned in sealed locks to start complex preignition sequences. Target data fed automatically into inertial guidance systems. The great countdown began.
At 11:24, while General A! !bright was still on the line to the Joint Chiefs of Staff, a call came through from an Air Force base in Turkey.
An airborne electronic surveillance unit patrolling the borders of Soviet Armenia had reported that the Russian radar network was fouled up too. Allbright asked for independent verification of the report. While he was waiting, the Russian Premier came through on the hot line to the White House.
At 11:33, while the two leaders were still reassuring each other of their peaceful intentions, the radar screens blipped back into life and the sitation maps in SAC's ,nderground headquarters lit up like overloaded hristmas trees. There were plenty of Russian planes in the air, but their missiles were still on the ground. General Allbright sat back and watched the screens for the next hour as the US and Soviet Air Forces pulled off their collision courses and headed for home. It was all over.
Somewhere around 15:30, Allbright handed over control to his senior duty officer and drove from MOFFUTT Air Force Base to his nearby home. He dismissed his aide, poured himself a large drink and took a long, thoughtful shower. As he dried himself, he saw in the mirror that the stress of the sudden alert plus the gut-wrenching breakdown in the radar defences had turned his face into a taut, deeply-lined mask.
Allbright poured himself another drink and put in a person-to-person call to his wife in Santa Barbara. He asked her about the weather on the West Coast and his daughter Lynn. His wife told him, adding that she'd heard on the car radio that there had been a sudden breakdown in the Air Traffic Control system covering the major California airports. It had happened around 9:15 local time. Airlines had been diverted to avoid midair collisions and flight schedules had been disrupted throughout the day. The people next door were anxiously awaiting news of a relative who had, so far, failed to signal his safe arrival in Los Angeles.
Allbright told her he'd heard most of the states had been briefly affected but that he didn't know what had caused the breakdown. He checked the date of her return to Nebraska and hung up without telling her about the alert.
Saturday/August 4 THE WHITE HOUSE/WASHINGTON
The urgent inquest on the twenty-minute radar breakdown instituted by the Joint Chiefs of Staff did not produce any satisfactory answers in time for their breakfast meeting with President John "Jake" Lorenzo at
the White House.
When the three of them arrived, they found Mel Fraser, Arnold Wedderkind and Bob Connors already sitting around the table with the President.
Fraser was Secretary of Defense, Wedderkind was the Administration's chief scientific advisor. Connors' title was Special Assistant to the President.
There were plenty of rolls, bacon, and coffee on a side table, butno one seemed to want any.
The President raised a hand to acknowledge the arrival of Admiral Edward Garrison, Air Force General Chuck Clayson and Army General Vernon Wills. Admiral Kirk, the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, was cruising somewhere north of Diego Garcia aboard the US Navy carrier Lexington, getting a firsthand impression of the growing Russian naval presence in the Indian Ocean.
As the three Chiefs of Staff sat down, Arnold Wedderkind recapped briefly what he'd been saying about solar flares. "The interference that hit us on Friday is known to radio buffs as "fade-out". It's a familiar problem and, in varying degrees, one that is with us most of the time -'
"Except nothing on this scale has ever happened before,' interjected Clayson.
"Not in the last ninety years,' admitted Wedderkind. "But until Marconi invented the radio, the problem didn't exist.'
The President, Fraser and the others nodded in sombre agreement but General Chuck Clayson found little comfort in Wedderkind's reply. Of the three armed services, the Air Force had been the hardest hit by the paralysing effects of the radar breakdown and he was probably the most worded man in the room.
Wedderkind directed his explanation at the President and kept it as simple as he could. "Fade-out is caused by magnetic storms in the upper layers of the Earth's atmosphere. They, in turn, are usually caused by bursts of short-wave radiation coming from the sun and they're emitted by volcanic eruptions of incandescent matter known as solar flares.
Flares are associated with sunspots - which I'm sure you've heard of.
"By our scale of measurement, they're all huge but some are absolutely gigantic - exploding with the force of a billion H-bombs and flinging great archirig plumes of molten lava tens, sometimes hundreds, of thousands of miles into space. These eruptions - which are even brighter than the sun itself - are accompanied by an equally massive blast of radiation which travels outwards like a shock wave. Twenty-six hours later, it hits the Earth - BAM!' Wedderkind thudded his fist into an open palm.
"I'll spare you the details of what happens in the ionosphere. Let's just say it starts quivering like a bowl of Jello. And instead of going where they should, our radar and radio waves start bouncing around all over the place. After a while it settles down - just like the Jello and we're back in business.'
"That's all very neat, Arnold,' said Fraser. "But don't we have people watching out for these things?' As Secretary of Defense, Fraser had been over at the Pentagon harrying his own experts for most of the night.
Bob Connors, a friend and ally of Wedderkind, saw him blink rapidly and adjust his glasses. A purely defensive reflex.
"Yes. I have to admit that is one of the things that is puzzling me.'
The President waited for a few seconds then asked, "Do we have to guess what it is or are you going to let us in on the secret?'
"Yeah, go ahead,' said Fraser. "This should be interesting.'
Wedderkind adjusted his glasses again. "What Mel is referring to is the fact that Mount Wilson - which constantly monitors sun-spot activity - recorded unusually large solar flares over a six-hour period last Thursday morning. As I was explaining, the resulting short-wave radiation could be expected to cause a partial fade-out in the high-frequency radar and radio wave-bands - rising to a maximum
intensity some forty-five hours after the initial eruption.' "And did it?' Another Presidential question. Wedderkind threw a sideways glance at Mel Fraser before answering. "As expected, the magnetic storm peaked around seven this morning. The problem is, the interference, although severe, didn't even begin to compare with the level of disruption we experienced on Friday.'
"Let me play that back to you to make sure I've understood,' said the President. "If whatever hit us on Friday came from the sun then it would have been picked up by the people at Mount Wilson earlier in the week.
In fact, from what you're saying, the explosion, or eruption, or whatever it is, would have to have been so big it would be impossible to miss.' "Right ... '
"But there wasn't one ... '
"No.'
The President threw up his hands. "Then why are we wasting time talking about this!?'
Wedderkind leaped to his own defence. "Because the disruption had all the hallmarks of what happens when the Earth is hit by a heavy burst of cosmic radiation.'
"Hold on, Arnold,' said Connors. "You just moved the goal posts. Don't you mean "solar" radiation?' "Solar, cosmic. it's the same thing.'
"Except it wasn't a solar flare that screwed things up for us yesterday,' said Fraser, appearing to relish the fact that Wedderkind had painted himself into a corner. "My science is a little hazy but, as I understand it, solar radiation comes from the sun while cosmic radiation comes from some other point in the cosmos.'
"If you want to split hairs, yes.' Wedderkind fingered the bridge of his glasses. "The people at Mount Wilson and some other colleagues of mine are looking into it. Until I hear from them we can't dismiss the possibility that some, as yet undetected, solar activity is the cause of the problem. What I can state, quite categorically, is that the source of the interference lies somewhere in outer space.'
"A meteorite, perhaps ... ?'
Wedderkind aimed a beady eye at Fraser. His staff over at the Pentagon had certainly been doing their homework. He turned back to the President. "Several stations around the world have been tracking a large incoming meteorite. It was expected to enter the Earth's atmosphere and burn up harmlessly at about 11:15 on Friday morning.'
"About the same time we got hit by the fade-out,' said Connors. "Could this - ?'
Wedderkind shook his head. "It's possible that it might have had some temporary effect on the ionosphere - and thus the propagation of radio waves - but what we're discuss'rag is of a different order of magnitude altogether.'
All this may have been clear to Wedderkind, but it was hard going for General Wills. He pulled out a large stogy, lit up and chewed on it aggressively to combat a sudden feeling of inadequacy.
The President picked absently at the corners of his scratch-pad. "What d'you think, Mel?'
Fraser weighed up Connors and Wedderkind then exchanged a covert glance with the Chiefs of Staff before replying. "Well, we all know Arnold has stars in his eyes but - based on what my people have told me, I think we'll find the cause of the fade-out is a little nearer to home.'
"You mean the Russians ... '
"Who else?'
Wedderkind snorted dismissively. "You can't be serious! Have you any idea just how -'
Fraser cut him off. "Why not, Arnold? They've got themselves a nice new shiny space-station up there now. I'd say that was in "outer space" - wouldn't you?'
Fraser was referring to the growing collection of space modules that had been locked on to the orbiting Russian spacelab Mir, launched in 1986 to reinforce the ageing Salyut 7. Skylab - America's answer to the Salyut program and long since abandoned - had plunged earthwards in the early eighties, burning up on re-entry. It had not been replaced and, following the disastrous loss of Challenger in February '86, NASA's space-shuttle program had slowly foundered as interest switched to the development of an orbital vehicle that could take off and land like a conventional Jumbo jet. Since the first flight was years away, the net result had been to leave the Soviet cosmonauts in sole possession of outer space. Mir was the Russian word for "peace" but everyone around the table knew that ever since Marx had dreamed up dialectical materialism on a wet afternoon in the British Museum, communists the world over have tended to say one thing and mean another.
President Lorenzo turned to the Navy Chief of Staff. "Any thoughts on this, Ed?'
Admiral Garrison tapped the file of intelligence reports into line with his notepad. "We don't have any data that would indicate they have developed or deployed this type of capability.'
It's in moments like this, thought the President, when I long for people who can say 'yes' or 'no'. "However-' Garrison paused.
"They must have a few things we don't know about.'
"True, but- '
The President bypassed Garrison and glanced at the others around the table. "Is it possible for them to knock out our radar like this?'
"You mean theoretically possible?'
"I mean in any way possible, Arnold.' Then as Wedderkind opened his mouth, the President added, "Within the known limits of science.'
"Possible, yes, but in this instance not probable.' It was Air Force General Clayson, halfway down the table. "The reports from our border surveillance units all indicate total disruption of Russian radar frequencies during the same period.'
"I know that, Chuck. They also know we're listening in. Supposing they put this whole show on for our benefit?'
"You mean - ?' Admiral Garrison was still trying to get it together.
"This could be a dry run - just to test our response. If it is them, then the next time they black us out, we could be in real trouble.
Right, Bob?'
Bob Connors was the President's closest aide. Some people thought he was too close. Like Mel Fraser, who faced him across the table. Connors advised the President on a wide variety of subjects that ranged from defence and foreign affairs down to what tie to wear. The State Department hated him, and so did certain people in the Defense Department. Like Mel Fraser.
Connors remained relaxed, with one arm over the back of his chair. "We could be, but there's no reason why we should. We have a whole raft of trade agreements, our people at Geneva say they're only a whisker away from a deal on nuclear weapons, you went to Moscow this April and only last week the Russian Ambassador confirmed that Leonovich would come to Washington next year.'
"That's right,' said the President "Hell, don't you remember - when we were over there - he said he wanted to bring his grandson and his daughter-in-law over with him so that they could visit Disneyland. I'm not saying they don't need watching but since you came into office they've responded to our approaches in a reasonably positive manner. I really don't see why they would want to pull a stunt like this,'
"Well, it sure as hell shook me up. I know what these bastards can do.'
General Wills had helped put the original backbone into NATO. He'd been trying to keep ahead of the Russians ever since he'd faced up to them as a twenty-year-old lieutenant during the Berlin blockade back in 1948.
Clayson came back in. "No one could dummy up an operation this big. They couldn't risk it blowing back in their faces.'
I'm right, thought Clayson. I have to be. The Civil Aeronautics Board had reported twenty minutes of almost total confusion as civilian air traffic control centres lost radar contact with the midmorning domestic airline flights. All the European air traffic control centres had had their radarscopes wiped out too. But by some freakweather miracle, there was almost perfect visibility right where the densest traffic happened to be. By switching to emergency procedural control on the unaffected lowerfrequency radio wavelengths, the Air Traffic Control Centers had managed to keep the ball in the air. All the same, there had been some hair-raising near-misses, and although there had still been plenty of daylight over Eastern Europe, the weather had been bad.
The President sucked in his breath as Clayson described how a Moscow-bound Tupolev had sheared through an ageing Polish Airlines jet stacked up in ten-tenths cloud over Warsaw. "Nasty ... '
"Fortunately, they were only half full,' added Clayson.
Yeah, but they don't have to make a profit, thought Connors irreverently.
Clayson continued. "And Malev - the Hungarian line lost one of their Ilyushins on a mountain top in Moldavia. Total - one hundred and ninety-five dead.'
Admiral Garrison voiced what the President was thinking. "Is this what they say? Or have we had this checked out?' Iron Curtain countries rarely, if ever, publicized airline crashes within their borders.
"We had an air attache on board the Tupolev,' said Clayson.
"Anyone I know?' asked the President. Not that it really mattered. He was thinking about the people in those three airliners. Could the Russians have knowingly sent them to their deaths? Would they? Would any government? Still, look what the Russians had lost fighting the Germans in World War Two. What was it, ten, twelve - plus the civilians - twenty million?
Set against this scale of sacrifice, what was another one hundred and ninety-five people? It would depend, he supposed, on what was at stake. The Russians had proved they were prepared to bite the bullet with the shootdown of KAL 007. Faced with the violation of a highly sensitive segment of Russian air space they had not baulked at blowing the off-course South Korean Jumbo jet out of the sky, killing all 269
passengers and crew. With luck, he would never find himself in a similar situation. If he did, he hoped like hell that somewhere down the line was a hatchet man who would make that kind of decision for him.
Bob Connors' voice cut through further speculation. "I think we can reasonably take the Soviet Premier's message at face value. From what he said over the hot line, it seems pretty clear they thought we had pulled out the plug on them.'
"Did you all read the transcript?'
Everyone nodded at the President.
"As I remember it,' said Connors. "You ended up reassuring him.' "True.' "Then it backs up General Crayson's theory.'
"Which is?'
Clayson leaned back on to the table again. "A temporary, total disruption of radar and ultra high-frequency radio waves on a worldwide basis caused by some as yet unknown solar-generated phenomenon.' "Arnold?'
"Yes, I'll go along with that.'
"Melt "Chuck could have the right answer,' said Fraser. "But I don't think we should preclude the possibility of some technological breakthrough by the Russians.' He eyed Connors briefly. "Even though they are making the right diplomatic noises.'
Connors stared back at him. "How come they had the same kind of foul-up?'
Fraser shrugged. "It could have been a test transmission from a secret research unit - that even the armed forces don't know about.'
That's all we need, thought Admiral Garrison. Ordinary Russian secrets are bad enough.
The President beat him to the punch line. "How do you propose to check this out?' asked the President.
"The whole of Eastern Europe and Asia is covered photographically by Air Force satellites,' said Fraser. "We'll just have to go over every inch of the ground and re-evaluate each installation.'
"That's a big chunk of the map. How long is that going to take?'
"I'm gonna have to come back to you on that.'
"Okay, but let's keep it on a short line.' The President turned to Wedderkind. "Do you have any ideas how we can follow up this geophysical angle?'
Wedderkind replaced his thick-framed spectacles. "General Clayson and I have already got a study group together on this. The top Air Force physicists are talking it over with people from Cal Tech, MIT and NASA right now. ' "Pull in the best men, Arnold. Get whoever you need.' "And let's hope they come up with something,' growled Wills. "We don't want to get caught in this kind of mess again.'
Wedderkind felt honour bound to defend the cause of science. "If we are, the one thing you can be sure of is that the Russians will be in big trouble too.'
"Arnold,' said Wills, 'don't ever confuse Russian scientists with Russian soldiers. They can still fight without all this electronic shit.
And if they ever run out of guns and ammunition, they'll try to beat us to death with their mess tins. Take it from me, Arnold, we're the ones who need the radar.'
"Point taken,' said the President, perversely pleased to see his trusty friend put down. "Looks like the bali's in your court, Arnold.'
It was indeed. Wedderkind didn't say anything, but a sharp increase in
his blink rate signalled a direct hit.
After the others had gone, Connors poured out two cups of coffee. Both he and the President were on artificial sweeteners. Connors had gone off sugar after reading somewhere that it was destroying his brain cells.
The President was back behind his heavy blue leathertopped desk. He had swung his chair around to gaze out of the window.
"Would you like a roll with it?'
"No.'
...
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]