Invasion: Alaska

with China over it.”

“They’re about to invade Alaska.”

Green hunched toward her. “That’s an incredible leap of logic. It would mean war, a massive war. Look what happened when the Japanese struck at Pearl Harbor or al-Qaeda blew up the World Trade Center. We went ape, nuking two cities one time and invading countless countries the other. Can you imagine what we’d do if China actually invaded American soil?”

“We’re not as powerful now as we were then,” Anna said.

“Those are practically treasonous words. We’re America. We’d go to war with China for a hundred years if they did something like that.”

“Well,” said Anna, pointing at the TV. “Then we’d better get started, because they’re already at war with us.”

Green frowned as he stared at the TV. “Why do you think this happened? Can you tell me?”

“I’ve been telling you. It’s because of Alaska.”

“You’d better start explaining what that means instead of just blabbing the same words over and over.”

“Carriers are the best ships in our Navy,” Anna said.

“I have people who tell me differently. If you remember, we had to move our carriers away from Taiwan when the Chinese invaded there.”

“Because of the nearness of the Chinese airfields,” Anna said.

“Whatever,” Green said. “We’re not here to argue naval tactics. I want to know first, why would the Chinese dare to go to war with us? And second—well, answer me the first one first.”

“Food,” said Anna. “They’re hungry. But I know you know that. You’re one of the architects to the Grain Union.”

“Not one of,” said Green, “The architect of it.”

“Admiral Carlos Fox of Argentina first suggested it.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Green said testily. “Let’s go back to this idea about China needing food. We offered them a trade deal in Sydney. I helped draft the brief myself. We were getting ready to agree to a massive trade of oil- for-grain. Deng Fong himself came in secret, I think as a sign of their serious intent. Then, a few hours before the meeting, someone blows up our oil rig.”

“The Chinese blew it up.”

“That’s crazy! The Chairman runs China. I know he’s ailing, but everyone knows nothing happens over there without his permission.”

“Everyone may know that,” Anna said, “but the Chinese blew up the rig just the same.”

“Bah. Give me a good reason why they would do something so foolish. It doesn’t make sense.”

Anna pressed her lips together and shook her head. “I don’t have a good reason why. I don’t understand that part of it yet. What’s important is that they’re making these moves. They blew the oil rig, maybe even to stop the meeting in Sydney. Now they’ve destroyed two carriers, crippling our Navy in the Pacific. This all points to one thing: they’re attempting a surprise attack. Historically, it’s the Chairman’s trademark method. The proof is obvious: Siberia and Taiwan.”

“A surprise attack? Like Pearl Harbor?”

“Only much bigger,” said Anna. “Imagine a Pearl Harbor where the Japanese brought troops and invaded Hawaii in order to keep it.”

“And you’re saying they want Alaska why?”

“Do you even look at the source evidence uncovered by our agencies?” Anna asked.

Mashing the cigarette into a coffee saucer, Green scowled. “I don’t need a smart mouth, young lady. I need answers to give to the President. So far, you haven’t told me anything useful.”

“You should let me speak to the President,” Anna said. “I know the Chairman better than anyone else in Washington.”

Colin Green turned away, becoming thoughtful. Finally, he grunted as he stood. “I want you back at the White House. You’re to prepare a brief for the President. I thought I was stopping a war before. It looks like I was wrong. Will you serve your country?”

Anna knew then she was never going to get an apology from him for what he’d done. “Yes,” she said.

“Good. Then let’s go.”

MUKDEN, P.R.C.

Captain Han Qiang of the Chinese Space Service sat at his remote control panel. He was deep underground in the Command Bunker. The east wall of his cubicle held a large computer screen. On it was a collage of Japanese schoolgirls in plaid skirts and knee-high socks of varying colors.

He was a plump man in his late thirties, with the top two buttons of his uniform undone. Because of his thinning hair, he had shaved himself bald. He had several computers surrounding him. The Meng 950Z to the side contained his gaming information. He had just been playing the game Lord Yamato, his ninety-eighth level character, Ur-dominator, the deadliest soldier in the Nangsi World. He’d just logged off, because a priority AAA signal had beeped.

Cracking his knuckles, Captain Han Qiang activated the forward cameras of his Red Thunder missile. It was the latest in Chinese satellite-killer technology and had rocketed up out of the thermosphere some time ago.

Han pressed his tongue against the gap between his front teeth, blowing air through them. He did it when he was excited. An image on the screen appeared. It showed the stars. The Red Thunder was in Low Earth Orbit, or LEO, which was between the atmosphere and below the inner Van Allen radiation belt. In kilometers, that was one hundred and sixty to two thousand kilometers above the Earth’s surface.

Han shoved his fingers into twitch gloves. With practiced ease, he twitched his fingers. The signal left the tower built over the command center in Mukden. Han rotated his missile, making the star patterns change. The Earth appeared below on his screen, making Han blow harder between the gap of his two front teeth. He twitched more as he activated the grid pattern and external radar. Seconds later, the grid map appeared on his screen, with an American Osprey recon satellite blinking red at the left corner.

Han made rapid calculations, swiveled in his chair to glance at his second favorite Japanese girl and twitched a finger, applying thrust to the Red Thunder.

Eight hundred kilometers above the Earth, the Red Thunder missile hunted the Osprey satellite.

Captain Han was aware that Space Service and Army generals would be watching his progress in the Nexus Command Center. This was his moment to shine, and he grinned, relaxing because he was the best at what he did. This was nothing like running Ur-dominator in the computer games. This was pathetically simple. Still, he needed success here. It would help him gain his request of “pit” remote controlling with the latest virtual reality imaging.

The intercom light on his Red Thunder screen blinked pink. It meant a message came from Nexus Command.

“It’s moving,” a general told him.

“I’m tracking, sir,” said Captain Han, while clicking a button, making the microphone several centimeters from his lips live. He wore a Lord Yamato headset, using it instead of the Command Center electronics. Lord Yamato was Japanese and of superior workmanship. Han grinned. It was good the general had warned him of the recon satellite’s movement. Of course, he’d seen it moving. He’d simply waited for one of them to see it. Yes, that had frightened the old general and it must have made him wonder if the young captain could achieve success at this critical moment. This would improve his success, because it would now stand higher in their eyes and possibly gain him a recommendation.

The precise reason why he needed to kill the American recon satellite, he did not know, although he had some ideas. Truthfully, he didn’t care why. It wasn’t any more real to him than Ur- dominator in Lord Yamato.

He saw that the recon satellite was over the Arctic Circle. The rumors concerning an invasion of Alaska must have merit.

Captain Han had been in the Space Service since his graduation from high school. He had gone to college on the Space Service’s coin. In the early days, he’d been in the Laser Anti-Ballistic Missile branch of the service. Huge laser batteries stationed at strategic locations and connected to the power-grid protected China from Russian, Indian and American ICBMs. Once the enemy missiles lofted, the giant lasers would target them. Either they would