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“Mr. Slattery, you are the director of spaceflight operations at NASA, correct?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“It is your job to know these things.”
“These are the things that keep me up at night, Madam President. A nuclear attack on our space systems has always been one of our doomsday scenarios.”
President Wall’s gaze slid back to Sergey’s. “Are we certain this is not an act of war?”
Sergey’s lips thinned. Suddenly, he wasn’t exhausted. He burned white-hot, his jaw clenching, his shoulders tensing. Mark watched him take a slow breath, hold it. His eyes went hard, knives under starlight instead of endless oceans.
Two days ago, Mark had joked with Sasha and Sergey and later watched as Sergey spun Sasha on the dance floor. He’d been a carefree man: joyous, warm, and open.
This Sergey was as far from that man as the sun was from the moon.
“Madam President, this isnoact of war.”
“Then what options do we have?” President Wall asked. “Doing nothing is not an option.”
“We launch.” Mark spoke before anyone else could. He heard Erica’s neck snap as she whipped her head toward him. Chris’s eyes narrowed, but he stayed quiet. “We launch two emergency missions within the next week: one from the Lunar Gateway back to the ISS and another from Earth. A crew from the Lunar Gateway can get to the ISS faster than we can, and they can conduct preliminary reconnaissance of the Soviet satellite. Simultaneously, an emergency response team from NASA launches on the next SLS. After rendezvousing at the ISS, we board this Soviet bird and find out what’s going on. We can rip out whatever programming has activated her and upload new guidance telemetry. We can send her far away, all the way out to a graveyard orbit—or beyond.” President Wall’s gaze was fixed on him, laser focused. “Madam President, from up there, we don’t have to worry about an uplink. We can interface directly with the satellite and solve this problem. We can also conclusively determine what the nuclear situation is. Are we looking at nuclear warheads in orbit? Or are we looking at a nuclear engine that’s lost containment? Either way, we need to know.”
“And what about the rail gun?” General Duncan snapped. “Have you forgotten? That satellite is armed. NASA isn’t a military organization, and you aren’t the Space Force.”
“The Space Force doesn’t deploy into space either,” Mark shot back. “This isn’t cowboy heroics. From the ISS, we’d execute a transfer orbit and come in from the satellite’s blind side.” he said, “Soviet satellites, especially military ones, point in a single direction: toward the Earth. They weren’t interested in fighting little green men. With your permission, Mr. President…” He trailed off, for the first time meeting Sergey’s gaze through the video link.
Sergey had the poker face of a world champion. He was marble, as frozen as Sasha ever was. If he recognized Mark, the man whose house he’d just spent two nights in, he didn’t show it.
“With your permission, we can board the Soviet satellite and secure her. After that, we can reprogram her trajectory. If there’s a nuclear reactor leak, we might just want to point her right at the sun.”
“And if it’s not a reactor? If this country’s previous government put nuclear warheads into orbit? Are NASA astronauts trained in their safe disarmament?” Sergey’s eyebrows arched sky-high. “I was not aware NASA offered such training.”
Not something you saw on the tour, no.“NASA scientific astronauts, no. But we have military members in the astronaut corps, and several of them have nuclear backgrounds. Nuclear engineering is a transferable skill set, from rockets that devastate to rockets that send people to Mars.”
“How soon can you put a mission like this together?” President Wall asked.
Bob answered quickly. “We have alotto consider, Madam President. We have to move crews around. We have missions on the calendar for the next three years, and crews in training simulations for eighteen to twenty-four months leading up to each of their specific missions—”
Mark spoke over him. “I can put a crew up in nine days.”
The office went silent. Over the videoconference link, Mark heard static, even though it was a digital signal.
No, not static. That was Sergey’s sharp inhale, his sudden hiss and jerk. The squeak of leather from the chair in his office.
Finally, President Wall blinked. She narrowed her eyes. “Mr. Keating?”
“This would be an emergency launch, Madam President, but my astronauts are prepared for such a contingency. We train for this. And I know every one of my astronauts. I know who is ready to slot into a mission tomorrow.”
“The SLS cannot be prepped in nine days,” Bob said.
“We have Artemis 13. The Orion capsule has just been fitted to the core stage at the VAB at Kennedy.” The Vehicle Assembly Building, the final prep location before the SLS—or the shuttle orbiter, or the Apollo rockets before that—was brought to the launch pads at Kennedy Space Center. “She’s slated to go up for the next Gateway mission,” Erica said, stepping forward. Her gaze darted from Chris to Mark. “From a technical standpoint, it is possible. We need three days to transport her to the pad. Another three days for systems checks. And then twenty-four hours for fueling.”
“Atbestpossible speed,” Bob cautioned.
“Mark is right,” Chris said. “We’ve trained for rescue and emergency missions. How fast can we launch if we need to get out to the Gateway or rescue stranded astronauts? Well, this isn’t a rescue, but it is an emergency.” He nodded at Mark and Erica. “They’re right, Madam President. We can get this done. Colin Perth, Kennedy director, can get the ball rolling as soon as we’re off the line.”
“How fast do we need to move?” President Wall asked. “While I do not want to lose any further satellites, I also do not want to risk human lives over replaceable technology. What is most concerning is the potentially catastrophic nuclear attack. If this satellite is carrying nuclear warheads, and if they are on track to attack the homeland, how soon until such an attack is feasible?”
General Duncan spoke, clearing his throat. “Based on its orbit and its speed, twelve days, Madam President.”
