Since taking office with 63 percent of the popular vote, their administration had been characterized by hard-nosed policies, draconian budget cuts, a tax increase, a paucity of diplomatic niceties, the first budget surplus anybody could remember, and a trimming down of the international trade deficit. On the day after inauguration, the two men slapped stiff tariffs on auto imports for a two-year period. They told the American car makers, "You've got two years to put your house in order, then it's open season." The United Auto Workers and industry executives howled, "That's not enough time!" The President snapped back, "It's more than I got. We won World War II in four years. Two years is plenty of time to get off your ass and make a better car." The UAW and executives gulped, then decided to quit fighting each other and fight the Japanese instead, and when the tariffs came off the Americans seemed to hold their own.
Both men, however, saw space as America's future, and here they opened the checkbook — and to spearhead their military effort in space they selected Whittenberg, who now sat before them.
The President took his place in the middle of the table, with the Vice President sitting direcdy across from him.' 'All right,'' said the former auto executive, "what's this all about?"
The Vice President nodded to Bergstrom, who began. "Mr. President, we have a serious situation with the space shuttle Intrepid. An unprecedented situation. I've asked General Whittenberg to come out from SPACECOM and oudine what's happened."
The President nodded a greeting, "Hello, General."
"Good afternoon, Mr. President. As Admiral Bergstrom has said, we have an unprecedented problem here, and I would like my intelligence officer to give you a detailed overview of the situation as it now stands. Then I'll field any questions."
"Fine," said the President, apparentiy impatient to get on with it.
"Yes, sir," said Whittenberg. "Colonel Lamborghini, if you please."
The President cocked an eyebrow. "Lamborghini?"
"Yes, Mr. President," replied the colonel.
A genuine smile came over the former auto executive's face. "You any relation to Ferruccio?" he asked, referring to Ferruc-cio Lamborghini, founder of the legendary Italian sports car company.
Lamborghini shook his head. "Only in the sense that all Italians are brothers, Mr. President."
The chief executive, who prized his Italian heritage, laughed. "Right on, Colonel. Go ahead."
Peter began to understand why he'd been selected for this particular briefing. He spun a dial on the lectern, causing the lights to dim and a slide projector to come to life. "Sir, on Wednesday, at twelve forty-seven hours Zulu time, zero four forty-seven hours Pacific Standard Time, the space shuttle Intrepid was launched from Vandenberg Air Force Base on a mission to ferry certain components up to the prototype SDI platform." A slide popped up showing a globe of the earth with the initial ground track of the Intrepid's orbit aiming out of California.
For the next twenty minutes Peter Lamborghini explained in detail how communication had been lost with the spacecraft after a suspected on board fire, how a rescue effort had been started, and how the Eardrum satellite had picked up a radio transmission between the Intrepid and "a Russian Orbita earth station in Chaunskaya Bay, on the far northeastern coast of Siberia."
The President blinked. He wasn't sure he'd heard what he'd heard. "Siberia?" he repeated.
"Yes, sir."
He blinked again. "But that's in Russia."
"Correct, sir," noted Lamborghini. Finally it hit home, and the chief executive came out of his chair. "Our shuttle is talking to the Russians?"
Lamborghini took a deep breath. "Yes, sir. That is what the data indicated. That there was communication between the spacecraft and the Soviet earth station."
"Why wasn't I told this earlier?" He eyeballed his Secretary of Defense in the low light.
"Sir," said Lamborghini, gently but firmly, "if I may, the Eardrum information indicated there was communication, but as you can see on this slide, we had only three signal sources, and the Eardrum satellite operates from such a distance that there was significant possibility for error."
The National Security Agency Director chimed in, "That's correct, Mr. President."
The President plopped back down in his chair and adjusted his rimless glasses. "So? What does that mean?"
"It means we felt it prudent to confirm the information before notifying the White House," Peter explained. "We contacted the Strategic Air Command and arranged for an electronic listening flyby with the SR-71 reconnaissance aircraft." Another slide flashed up showing the ground tracks of the SR-71 and the Intrepid, and the Russian earth station at Perm. "After we received the approval of the Secretary of Defense, the SR-71 penetrated Soviet airspace and inserted itself between the spacecraft and the earth station at Perm. The Blackbird aircraft was fired upon during the mission but made it out safely, and it was successful in picking up a secure voice transmission between the Intrepid and the ground. In short, we have definite confirmation that our spacecraft is talking to the Russians, and not to us."
The ordinarily loquacious President was at a loss for words. "I…1 don't understand… I mean, how could this happen?''
Whittenberg started to interrupt, but Lamborghini kept on. "Sir, the crew consists of Shuttle Commander Colonel Julian Kapuscinski, Air Force Major Frank Mulcahey as copilot, and Mission Specialist Geraldo Rodriquez, a civilian on loan from NASA. We have reviewed the service records of these three men in meticulous detail and have found nothing to indicate they would do anything disloyal."
"Kapuscinski?" The President's eyebrows twitched in recognition. "Isn't he the one I decorated a year or so ago? Saved that shuttle from blowing up?"
"Yes, sir," said Peter tiredly. "As I mentioned, the records of all three showed they were the finest crew we had. But the fact remains that one of the crew is in control of the spacecraft and is talking to the Soviets. I have one of my best people working with the FBI to review the service records again to see if we can ascertain who on board has… defected."
The President was still in shock. This was a little different from choosing tailfin designs. "Well, still, I, uh, what does this mean?"
Now Whittenberg was on. "Can we have the lights, Pete?"
The lights came on and the projector powered down.
"What it means, Mr. President," said the general, "is that we are in jeopardy of losing the shuttle Intrepid and its payload to the Soviet Union. There can be no other explanation of the spacecraft's behavior as far as we can see, and there is no sense in mincing words, sir. The loss of the shuttle would be severe, but the loss of the payload would be devastating. With regard to the orbiter itself, its loss would be mitigated by the fact the
Russians have already developed their own shuttle system. Their most recent mission occurred last November, as you will probably recall. Make no mistake — losing the Intrepid would be damaging and expensive, but it would be sustainable. However, the loss of the pay load would be something else again. Admiral Bergstrom has brought Drs. Havelichek and Sharp out from Livermore to explain exacdy what is on board and what the loss could mean. Dr. Havelichek, would you outline the situation on the PRISM system?"