Eagle Station

Lavrentyev and Tian studied the fuzzy image of the American space vehicle with great care. One alteration was immediately obvious. The wing and fuselage pods Russian and Chinese intelligence had tentatively identified as microwave emitters were gone. Both men nodded in sudden understanding. Removing those microwave pods and their associated electronics had allowed the Americans to add additional life-support and navigation equipment to the spaceplane.

“Which leaves a turret-mounted laser as its chief weapon,” Tian commented.

“In combat against our own less-capable Elektron spaceplanes, this laser scored kills at nearly five hundred kilometers,” Lavrentyev said slowly. He frowned. “It represents a serious threat to our base.”

“But your plasma rail gun has a significantly longer effective range,” President Li argued, reappearing on their monitor. “Correct?”

“Da, Comrade President.” Lavrentyev nodded.

Li shrugged. “Then I fail to see what you have to fear. Yes, the Americans have surprised us with this unexpected gambit, but you will still have the upper hand in any combat.”

Tian held his face carefully immobile, hoping that Lavrentyev would have the good sense to do the same. It was easy enough for Li, safe on Earth and surrounded by the whole might of the People’s Republic, to dismiss the threat posed by the approaching enemy spaceplane. Those stationed here at Korolev Base, however, understood how vulnerable they were to an enemy attack from orbit. Right now, their lives depended on a single inflated habitat module. Its half-meter-thick Kevlar, foam insulation, and Nomex cloth walls were ample protection against the moon’s airless environment, wild temperature swings, and radiation. But a two-megawatt weapons-grade laser would slice through them like butter.

“With respect, Comrade President,” he said evenly. “Our choice of tactics depends on whether we believe the Americans will opt to fire on us first. Before they obtain hard evidence that we destroyed their two satellites.”

Leonov spoke up from Moscow. “I do not believe the Americans will come in shooting, Colonel Tian.” He shrugged. “Farrell may be far more aggressive than some other recent American presidents, but even he will be reluctant to order what could be painted as an unprovoked act of war against what the world has been told is a peaceful Sino-Russian science outpost.”

“Especially since the Americans know our own Lagrange point satellites give us a complete picture of everything happening on the moon’s far side,” Li agreed. “Besides being futile, any surprise attack against your base would destroy their whole international reputation and shred the military and economic alliances they’ve built up against us.”

Which would be small consolation to those of us who were killed, Tian thought acidly.

Leonov nodded when China’s leader finished speaking. “In the circumstances, I’m confident this spaceplane is making a reconnaissance first — undoubtedly intended to gather intelligence that will let the Americans make a more determined and effective attack during a later orbit… or on a later mission, if the S-29 only swings around the moon once and then heads back to Earth on a free-return trajectory.”

“Your reasoning is persuasive, Marshal,” Lavrentyev acknowledged. “However, although we have camouflaged our more warlike installations to some extent, our maskirovka is unlikely to deceive that American spaceplane’s powerful radar and thermal sensors for long. By the time it finishes its first pass over Korolev Base, its crew will know all our secrets.”

“Quite so,” Leonov said with a cold smile. “And that is why, regardless of whether or not the Americans open fire on you, you will destroy that spaceplane before it can report back to Earth.”

Tian saw Li nod his approval. A chill ran down his spine. Their undeclared war against the United States was about to turn hot.

Thirty-Nine

Space Vehicle Assembly Clean Room, Sky Masters Aerospace Inc., Battle Mountain

A Short Time Later

Followed by his father and Nadia, Brad McLanahan entered the large space vehicle assembly room wearing a hooded sterile coverall, surgical mask, safety goggles, and slip-on booties over his shoes. Nobody wanted bacteria, dust, or other contaminants damaging sensitive electronics. The room itself was close to the size of a football field, with a hundred-foot-high ceiling. At the far end, a floor-to-ceiling door led out to a loading dock. From there, the Sky Masters satellites and other space vehicles assembled here could be ferried off to different launch sites by cargo aircraft, tractor trailer, or rail.