Soon, the Congressman wrapped up his presentation with a grave flourish. “Let us not be deceived. The Chinese invasion of Taiwan is the opening gambit in a move to dominate the world — to make the 21st Century the Chinese century. If we suffer a failure of nerve at this defining moment, we will pay the price as assuredly as Britain paid the price for Neville Chamberlain’s failure to stand up to Hitler.”
In spite of the fervor the pro-resolution side enjoyed, the final vote was surprisingly close: 229 in favor, 191 against. For the first time since 1941, the United States House of Representatives had passed a declaration of war and sent it on to the waiting Senate where the more deliberative body was just gathering for an evening of debate. It was 7:40 PM on Monday.
Half a world away from Washington’s war of words a different aspect of war, also involving words, was being prepared. In Sichuan province in the southeast portion of China, a Long March 2C/SD (“2” for two-stage, “SD” for Smart Dispenser, a special satellite dispensing device used to place multiple low earth orbit communications satellites into their orbits) commercial rocket was nearing lift off. The rocket was a mainstay of China’s lucrative commercial launch vehicle market. How it got to be that way is an interesting story. After NASA’s Challenger disaster in 1986 there was a string of American launch vehicle failures as the U.S. tried to restart its unmanned space program. At the same time, the European Ariane program was beginning to have success with its launch vehicles. Fearful of a European near-monopoly in the commercial launch vehicle market, American satellite manufacturers lobbied the U.S. government to allow them to launch commercial satellites on Chinese rockets. Unfortunately, Chinese rockets had a disconcerting habit of exploding with their quarter billion dollar cargoes on board. Eventually the satellite insurance industry demanded that Chinese launch vehicles be made more reliable — if not, the satellite owners would have to self-insure or use other, safer (and more expensive) rockets. Rather than fatten Europe’s space industry coffers, the Americans decided to improve China’s launch vehicle reliability and accuracy.
At T minus zero the booster’s engines ignited, sending a tremor through the two-stage rocket. The launch vehicle lifted off on schedule (the launch window was half an hour long) and cleared the pad in a deafening roar. Ten seconds into its flight the rocket began its pitch over maneuver. Instead of heading in the normal easterly azimuth of 94 to 104 degrees (taking the rocket over fairly unpopulated areas in the shortest distance to the South China Sea), the rocket tilted over to the northeast. Normally, this would have been cause for alarm and the rocket would have been command detonated to prevent a civilian catastrophe. Instead, the rocket was allowed to continue its climb for space. Just 122 seconds after liftoff the first stage shut down. A fifth of a second later the second stage ignited, sending the first stage tumbling back to Earth. Less than four minutes into the flight the payload fairing separated, revealing the Smart Dispenser and its cargo of five spherical vehicles.
Had the Chinese launched an intercontinental ballistic missile (ICBM) from one of their established missile fields, U.S. missile launch warning satellites would have detected the launch within seconds. A few moments later, the satellites’ data would have enabled the sprawling underground complex at Cheyenne Mountain in Colorado to determine where the missile was headed and whether or not it was a threat. The Chinese weren’t willing to risk American nuclear retaliation over this mission, so they chose to use a civilian launch vehicle (stated U.S. nuclear retaliation policy was to wait until confirmation of a nuclear explosion — but the Chinese didn’t believe any nation could be so stupid as to wait until a bomb actually detonated before launching a counterstrike). They even went so far as to have the China Satellite Launch and Control General in Beijing officially communicate to America their intent to launch a commercial satellite sometime during the morning hours.
The ploy worked. The launch was spotted by America’s early warning system but it was deemed non-threatening. Concern was much higher for a suspected North Korean three-stage missile test launch that was threatened anytime soon. The Americans viewed North Korea as a dangerous rogue state with less to lose from reckless behavior than a wealthy up-and-coming nation such as China. As was often the case with Western perceptions about Asia, it was wishful thinking backed by a skewed view of history.
The young female U.S. Air Force lieutenant was just beginning her day under a thousand feet of rock at Cheyenne Mountain. A Defense Support Program satellite in geosynchronous orbit had just picked up the Chinese Long March rocket’s intensely hot exhaust plume as it cleared the thick cloud deck over southern China. While fairly new to the post, she quickly noted the rocket’s trajectory was atypical. Frowning, she called the watch officer over to her console where she was roughing out some preliminary flight paths, “Sir, please take a look at this.”
The major walked over to the lieutenant’s station with its two large computer screens, “What do you have?”
“Sir, very unusual. This Chinese commercial launch is way outside of its normal azimuth. The flight path will take it just to the southeast of Beijing — fairly dangerous given their safety record.”
The major first looked at the technical data on the lieutenant’s screen. Satisfied she used the correct sensors and algorithms to draw an appropriate conclusion, he asked her, “Tell me what you think they’re doing.”
“Hmmm,” she was delighted the major asked her her opinion. She had already developed her suspicions about Chinese intentions for this launch and was ready with a well thought out answer, “Sir, the Chinese announced the launch beforehand. This usually indicates a commercial launch. However, given the state of near-war we are in, I think that this is a reconnaissance satellite mission. The bird they’re launching is going to keep tabs on our West Coast port facilities.”
“Good analysis. But why would the Chinese need to use a spy satellite when they probably already have at least 50 agents at each West Coast port site anyway?” The major retorted with a slight smile. The rocket advanced another few hundred miles since their conversation began.
“Maybe just to show us that they have modern capabilities too?” the lieutenant was reaching now — the major had blown away her theory.
The major stroked his chin, “Waste of money. No, I’d say the Chinese are launching a commercial photosat. Wasn’t a Canadian-Israeli joint venture company going to try to launch a commercial photoreconnaissance satellite and then sell the pictures to farmers over the Internet? As I remember it, the French weren’t too happy with the competition for SPOT so they blocked a launch on Ariane. The Russians have had problems at their launch facility recently and we’re backlogged for at least two years at Cape Canaveral. All the same, let’s call the colonel. Fascinating…”
The U.S. Embassy in Beijing had been on the ragged edge for three days now. Every foreign service officer was straining to prevent a wider conflict from breaking out between America and China. The phone call from Beijing’s Foreign Ministry was extremely unwelcome news. About 12 minutes after the launch of the Long March rocket, the Chinese called to tell the Americans that one of their commercial rockets had malfunctioned and was heading on a course that might take it over heavily populated areas of America’s Pacific coastal region.