Pakistan in 1947, conflict between the two newly independent nations had never died down. Other nations bordering the Indian Ocean took natural sides, with Muslim states supporting Pakistan, and non-Muslim ones supporting India. Yet after the nuclear holocaust that threatened not only India and Pakistan, but also the entire region, and possibly the world, the states in the region began to distance themselves politically from the two nuclear rogue nations.
Thus the small island nation of Sri Lanka, which had been under virtual Indian control since the partition, took initial steps to remove itself from India's sphere of influence. The reaction of India to Sri Lanka's attempt to declare independence was quick and fierce. India was determined to retain control of the island nation; and might even have managed to do so if the rivalry of the island's Sinhalese and Tamil populations had followed its traditional course. The Indian government had learned the art of 'divide and rule' all too well during two centuries of English domination. After independence was declared in India, the ruling class put those lessons to good use, playing the divergent interests and goals of many minority groups off against each other in order to keep a firm grip on national affairs. But the current disaster had changed the Indian subcontinent forever. And in the days that followed, India would discover that the old rules had changed.
Aboard the Command Ship USS
Vice Admiral Matt Connelly was always happiest when he was at sea. His current post as commander of the U.S. Fifth Fleet, and the naval component commander (NAVCENT) for the U.S. Central Command (CENTCOM), had kept him out at sea for months now, overseeing a mission vital to his county and the world. He was in charge of the Navy's ships and aircraft in a place that was as geographically far as you could go from the miserable climate and politics of Washington, D.C. Even better, he was a
The ship he was aboard, the
Several hundred miles to the east was the new carrier USS
Also aboard the
Connelly also had an MEU (SOC) aboard the three ships of his amphibious ready group (ARG), as well as a dozen highly capable escort vessels. Eight of these were Aegis-capable cruisers and destroyers, while the rest were new SC-21-class land-attack and ASW destroyers to protect the underway replenishment train ships. Finally, he had four nuclear submarines prowling about, just in case the Indians decided to get aggressive with their fleet of diesel boats.
A few Allied ships would rotate in and out of what he was calling Task Force 58 (named in honor of Admiral Raymond Spruance's famous World War II force), but by and large this was an American force, protecting American interests and values. Not that Connelly didn't enjoy working with coalition allies. Over the years he had become known as a master of naval diplomacy. But like any commander, he felt more comfortable with a force whose personnel and capabilities he knew intimately, whose commanders spoke his language without the need to resort to translators, and whose ships and men did what he told them to do without him needing to say 'please' first.
His mission was essential, even if it could sometimes grow rather monotonous. He had learned the quarantine game back in 1990 during Desert Shield, and knew how to make it work. Backed up by patrol aircraft out of Diego Garcia and satellite surveillance from the U.S. Space Command (USSPACECOM) warfighting center at Colorado Springs, Colorado, Task Force 58 had the whole region under tight control. His force would keep it that way as long as the equipment, crews, and food held out. He was an American naval officer doing what he had spent a life training to do. Here in the
University of New Mexico High Energy Physics Laboratory, February 5th, 2016
Jill Jacobs was a lovely blonde. She could have been a college cheer-leader in Texas, or possibly a starlet in Beverly Hills. She turned heads wherever she went; she had the kind of looks that made most people assume she got by on body, not brains. Most people would be wrong. She was a well-regarded doctoral candidate in high-energy physical chemistry, exploring rare earth properties for her thesis. It was slow, painstaking work, typically done at night when the lab spaces were open and she could mix and test the bizarre concoctions that were the basis of her ideas about superconductivity. Tonight's work was typical of what she had been doing for almost six months- another apparent failure. It had not generated any of the improvements that her computer models had projected two years earlier.
She stared then at the next batch on her list-samples of a hybrid copper-platinum-scandium mix that represented a sort of cul-de-sac in her projected family of superconducting materials. Always a low-probability set within her computer-modeled group, she had mixed it only because she had the time and materials at hand, and needed to try this particular formula out
She knew the world needed metals that were superconductive at average atmospheric temperatures, but wondered if she would ever find them. If she didn't find them soon, would she ever make a difference with this work? Most likely, she would wind up in a corporate lab somewhere working on improved alloys for jet engines or household appliances. It was the first time she'd even allowed herself to visualize failure, and it surprised her. Maybe the sleep she was losing every night to acquire the lab time for her tests was taking its toll. Or maybe it was the news in the paper every morning. That was enough to depress anyone. But something wasn't right, she decided. She was normally an optimist with a rose-tinted world-view. She needed a break. Perhaps after she finished this test, she would take off for the weekend, and drive to Taos for an overnight visit to a spa, or up into the mountains for a camping trip. If she could get away for a little, maybe she'd feel human again. Maybe.
Turning her attention back to the sample in the test stand, she began to run current through it at a variety
