"Sorry, sir. But I think you're underestimating the threat factor."
"I am not underestimating the threat factor. I'm not sure what the threat factor is."
"Allow me to explain the principle behind the rail gun, sir."
"Do so." The President folded his arms.
"We've been working on them for more than a decade. They're the ultimate satellite delivery system. We can throw out the shuttle, and all our rockets and missiles. This baby works on magnetic propulsion principles. What we do is, we build a tube large enough to do the job and stick a magnetically charged rail on either side of the tube. Step up the power with maybe a zillion gigawatts. And zoom! Whatever we stick in one end is propelled out the other so fast your head would spin. Sir. Mr. President. Sir. "
"Rail gun?"
"The baby that shot that thing into orbit would have to be as long as the Holland Tunnel, sir. Of course, the more accepted term for it is electromagnetic cannon, or EM cannon. But the techies, they like to call it a rail gun."
"Rail?" asked the President, looking at the model in his hand.
"Rail. Obviously the Russians took the rail part a tad literally." The general cracked a weak, lopsided smile.
"There's only one thing wrong with your Russian-railgun theory."
"Respectfully, Mr. President, I believe my theory is sound."
"The second KKV was not launched from Russia."
"Sir?"
"NORAD says it lifted off from Africa."
"That's absurd, Mr. President. The Africans can't possibly have a rail gun. Hell, even we don't have a full-scale version."
"It came from Africa," the President repeated firmly.
"If you say so, sir."
"We're going up, General. To the surface."
"Glad to hear it, sir."
"When we get upstairs, I'm going to brief the press on this entire matter."
"Sir, I don't think that would be a good idea ... sir."
"But I do. And I am your Commander in Chief."
"As your surrogate, Mr. President-"
"Forget that surrogate stuff. From now on, I'm going to do my job. And so are you."
"Yes, sir," General Martin S. Leiber said miserably, accepting the plastic locomotive model the President thrust into his hands.
Chapter 12
Pyotr Koldunov threw the cutoff switches himself. It was a job for a lowly technician, not for one of the top scientists of the Soviet Ministry of Science. But he was not in Soviet Russia now and he didn't trust even the most intelligent of his Lobynian assistants not to accidentally bump the controls and trigger the launch sequence while he was inside the Electromagnetic Launch Accelerator, hurling him into orbit like a bug blown through a straw.
With all available power no longer diverted to the EM Accelerator, the overhead lights automatically brightened. The strong illumination seemed to take the curse off the underground complex. Months of dwelling under the Lobynian Desert with only the swarthy Lobynian technicians for company and no sunlight had reduced Pyotr Koldunov to a state of perpetual gloom.
As he stepped to the massive round chamber hatch, more like a bank-deposit vault than what it really was-the breech of the most powerful weapon ever created-Koldunov wondered if he were one of those people who suffer from light-deprivation mood swings. He made a mental note to check with a Moscow specialist if he ever got out of this sand burrow with his mind intact. Bitterly he punched out the access code on the wall-mounted keypad, carefully blocking the device so that none of the Lobynians could see the combination.
The light mounted over the keypad turned red, indicating acceptance of the access code. Koldunov turned quickly. The black-eyed Lobynians in their stupid green smocks were watching him avidly. The disappointment visible on their dark faces told him they had not gleaned the combination.
The final step was to hit the hydraulics button. He punched it angrily and waited. He was sick of the incessant Lobynian spying. Lobynia was supposed to be a Soviet client state, but their leader was a madman. As a rational, patriotic scientist, it sickened Pyotr Koldunov to be made subservient to the Lobynian dictator, Colonel Hannibal Intifadah. As a man, it infuriated him to know that if he slipped up, the Lobynians would slit his throat and take control of the EM Accelerator.
The huge hatch rolled aside and the square, tunnellike maw of the device gaped as black as a capitalist's heart, Koldunov thought morosely. The odor was worse than the last time. The ozone stink was nearly overwhelmed by the bitter stench of seared metal. Black. It smelled black. As black as it looked. Black as a Lobynian's soul, he thought with grim humor. Yes, it was that black.
Koldunov clicked on his powerful argon flashlight and stepped in. He breathed through his mouth. He wanted to gag. The light splashed along the walls of the tunnel. It was more than twenty feet high and inclined at a shallow upward angle. Not for the first time, Koldunov thought it was like walking into a serpent's belly.
The tunnel was constructed of four thick walls held together with massive external bolts. Mounted on each side wall was a flat copper rail. These were the power rails. Electricity pumped through them provided the magnetic pulse that could in theory propel a skyscraper into orbit.
The flashlight revealed that the left-hand rail had been damaged by the last launch. The copper surfaces were gouged and melted as if the powerful electric forces had boiled off the outer skin. The right rail was less damaged. But as he stepped further along, picking his way carefully as the incline grew steeper, he saw that the true damage was to the right rail. It had cracked at a joint. No wonder Soviet tracking systems had reported that the second projectile had tumbled in flight. Koldunov sighed. Both rails would have to be replaced.
Colonel Intifadah would not like this. Not at all.
The carrier rails were in worse shape. Mounted side by side on the launcher's flat floor, they were simply a section of the People's Lobynian Railroad System diverted underground through the complex and into the launcher itself.
The tracks ran up to the very mouth of the gun, a quarter of a mile away, where it poked out at ground level. These rails were twisted off their ties. He had half-expected that. They had been relaid after the first test and that had weakened them. He had told Colonel Intifadah exactly what would happen. But Colonel Intifadah had screamed at him for a straight twenty minutes until Koldunov had, in exasperation, stopped trying to make his case.
Now he would have to face Colonel Intifadah with the unhappy news that not only did the carrier rails have to be relaid once again, but also the power rails would probably have to be changed after each launch as a matter of routine maintenance. That would throw the Colonel's schedule completely off. It also meant that Pyotr Koldunov would be stuck in Lobynia far longer than he had planned.
Shaking his head, he left the breech and closed the hatch. He entered the sealing code, careful to shield that too. As long as only he knew those codes, the Lobynians dared not kill him. Even Colonel Intifadah was sane enough to know that.
Exiting the machine, he carefully stepped over the tracks leading into the hatch and mounted the concrete steps to the shielded control booth overlooking the launch-preparation area. He picked up the green-telephone hot line.
"Why do you not restore power to the device?" asked Musa Al-Qaid. Even in the air-conditioned chill of the underground complex, Al-Qaid's face had that greasy sheen of perpetual sweat. Probably it was fear.
"There is no need," Koldunov told him curtly.
"But our people will soon deliver the next revenge vehicle. Our glorious leader has decreed that it will be launched on schedule."
"Your glorious leader should have listened to me if he wished to maintain his precious schedule," Koldunov told him. "The device is inoperable."
"Then our glorious leader must be so informed immediately."
Koldunov shrugged, waited for the first ring, and quickly handed the phone to the other man.
"Be my guest. I was in the process of doing exactly that."
Al-Qaid took the receiver without thinking. Placing it to his ear, he got the switchboard of the People's Provisional Palace in the Lobynian capital.