It hardly mattered. The original telemetry data had already reached C and C THOR Missile Station under Lexington, and the attack order to the single THOR bundle heading into position went out.
The THOR launch vehicle hidden in stealth cladding expelled cold gas propulsion as instructed by a burst of orders originating from C and C Lexington. As long as the vehicle stayed cool, Chinese sensors would have a difficult time finding it.
The only trouble was that time was critical. Even now, the Chinese carrier group would likely be racing elsewhere. The original data was extremely time sensitive.
The vehicle’s AI took over after the initial burst of orders. It expelled more cold gas, beginning to deorbit into attack position. A regular rocket exhaust would have created a bright plume—a beacon—for the enemy to see. Instead, the stealth vehicle continued to maneuver with a minimum signature. This was its most vulnerable stage. If the Chinese could find it now, they could destroy the weapons system.
Luckily, the THOR missiles did not need maximum penetration for their current objectives. Enemy silos or underground bunkers—hardened targets—demanded a nearly vertical attack from space. Ships were different. The THOR missiles could attack at a shallower angle. It meant the missiles could come from many different directions, making them harder to spot and defeat.
Unlike the attack against the GD Atlantic fleet in 2040, a single launch vehicle maneuvered into position, not many.
The Americans lacked high-flying UAVs or any over-the-horizon radar. Instead, several Seagull-3 drones converged on the enemy carrier group.
It seemed the Chinese understood the danger. Enemy attack UCAVs flew thick on combat air patrol, or CAP. They destroyed the small Seagull-3 drones as quickly as they spotted them. Fortunately for the THOR Launch Vehicle, its AI-enhanced receivers picked up the data needed. Another AI relayed the targeting intelligence to the individual missiles, giving them their priority objectives.
At high speed, miniaturized onboard computers went about their tasks. Finally, the vehicle burst apart, as a cloud of cold white vapor escaped. Sleek tungsten rods—fifty of them—separated from each other. Gravity did the rest, tugging at the crowbar-sized missiles. In moments, they sped Earthward, heading for the individual ships of the Chinese carrier group.
Alarms rang in the command center aboard the supercarrier.
“Sir!”
Admiral Ling saw it on the big screen. A hated American satellite had just launched a bundle of THOR missiles.
“They’re headed down, sir, coming straight at us.”
“Alert the rest of the ships,” Ling said in a calm voice. “Begin emergency evasive actions. We have to make it harder on then.”
“Sir—”
“Listen to me,” Ling said.
The deck captain snapped to attention.
“We have the battleship. Use the particle beam. Now would be an excellent time to see if it can truly destroy these wasps. Use the SM-4Bs too, and use the lasers. Throw whatever we have at these things. Now!”
The command center personnel went about their business with excited efficiency. This felt far too much like Alaska those many years ago. Then it had been ship-killing ballistic missiles coming at them. How the Americans loved missiles and loved using outer space.
Admiral Ling watched the big screen. The fleet bolted in every direction like frightened mice. That was good. The Americans were getting their chance. Once it was over, he would exact a fierce revenge on their invasion fleet. The Americans thought to bring ships into these waters, the arrogant devils. No, their day was over. China would yet prevail.
“Engage the hologram generators,” Ling said.
“Yes, sir,” the deck captain said.
From the Sung’s command center, the order dispersed to the fleet.
Each capital ship possessed a hologram generator, meaning the two aircraft carriers, the battleship and the cruisers. The limiting factors were power and the size of the machinery. The hologram generator sucked up power. That meant it could be on for only short amounts of time.
As Ling waited, Sung’s holo-imagers aimed at the sea, and a giant supercarrier ghost appeared. On the other side, a second ghost carrier came into existence. One after another, new Chinese capital ships shimmered into existence on the water.
A careful observer would have noticed important differences. The sea didn’t wash against a hologram’s hull, but swept through it and disappeared. Would that matter to small THOR missiles hunting for targets?
Admiral Ling knew that they were about to find out.
A twenty-pound tungsten THOR missile—one of fifty just like it—began its descent into the atmosphere. At the start of its rapid fall, the missile had an ablative nose tip.
As the rod plunged down through the atmosphere at meteor speeds, heating up by friction, the ablative nose tip wore away until finally it was gone. It had done its job as a mini-heat shield. Instead of a blunt nose or even a rounded one showing, the THOR missile had a sharp point and an arrow-like design. It sliced through the increasingly dense atmosphere, losing only a fraction of its terrific velocity.
Despite the intense heat, the internal guts of the tungsten rod began to work. At three miles above the Tasman Sea, the nose cap popped off. That exposed the sensors. They were high-grade and rugged, and this particular missile spotted the PRCN Sung supercarrier, its priority target. Small flanges at the rear of the rod steered the projectile, adjusting as the supercarrier churned through the sea.
At twenty pounds, the tungsten rod was less than an inch in diameter and four feet long. A luminous trail appeared behind it, as straight as a line.
Traveling at the incredible velocity, the THOR missile neared its target.
At that moment, the great Chinese battleship aimed its particle beam cannon at the speeding meteor. Giant generators roared with power, accelerating particles. A flash appeared for a microsecond. It was all that let anyone know the cannon fired its contents.
The accelerated particles struck the crowbar-shaped THOR missile. Despite the missile’s ruggedness, the beam weakened the twenty-pound tungsten rod. Incredibly, it snapped in half. At these speeds, the atmosphere caused it to glow with molten colors. Friction began destroying the rod, eating it away.
The battleship switched targets, tracking another THOR missile, destroying it too. It started on the third projectile…
From many of the destroyers, SM-4B missiles launched. They roared toward the fiery objects as the battle now approached the critical few minutes.
The sky was filled with downward streaking lines, glowing trails of the THOR missiles. From Chinese destroyers, more smoky lines appeared: the trails of the SM-4Bs.
Several spectacular collisions took place as the SM-4Bs struck descending THORs. The Chinese rockets did little damage to those they hit, but they did knock them off course.
The battleship destroyed its last THOR projectile. Now the space crowbars reached sea level.
One THOR missile struck Sung’s sister carrier. The projectile had become a molten, orange-glowing meteor. It punched through metal and sliced down through deck after deck as if it were a Titan’s dagger. Then it tore a hole out of the bottom. Fuel storage tanks began to blow. Terrific friction caused munitions to explode with tremendous force. The stricken vessel shuddered.