Enkov:
13.
Near-Earth orbit swarmed with hundreds of major satellites. Yet more satellites orbited in the ‘higher’ LaGrange points. Most of these major-sized habitats were the huge farm platforms that supplied the people of Earth with the bulk of their food. They had been declared open, belonging to neither side. So far, each side had in practice left the farm habs open, or at least neither side had overtly used them militarily. Many of the biggest habitats rotated at the L5 and L4 points in higher Earth orbit. These were often industrial plants, using the raw ore of carefully maneuvered asteroids brought from deeper in the Solar System, or blasted off the moon, or purchased from the Comet Barons of Outer Planets. The profusion of habitats made Earth orbit the most cluttered portion of space in the Solar System. In near-Earth orbit, staring down at the planet, were the three laser platforms, the two missile and three orbital fighter stations of the Highborn.
Following their own particular orbits in and out of this profusion of satellites were small ice-coated pods. Year after year, the pods had orbited. Deep in the ice, about the size of a Twentieth century automobile, was a nuclear bomb with rods pointed outward. Those rods were presently trained at the Highborn military platforms.
Message pulses from Earth activated the almost invisible pods.
The explosions threw off massive qualities of x-rays. Those x-rays sped ahead of the rest of the blast. Before they were destroyed in the incandescent fury of the nuclear explosion, the special rods directed those rays in an invisible beam at the orbital fighter stations.
Unbeknown to most of Earth Command, both the Highborn strategists and their Spy Masters had predicted a massive surprise counterattack. Logically, and because of premen emotional makeup, the Highborn strategists believed the counterattack would take place from Earth. The indicators hadn’t been difficult to read. And the Grand Admiral’s strategy practically mandated such a counterattack. Thus, over the past few weeks the Highborn had slipped their orbital fighters off the platforms. They couldn’t afford staggering losses of these craft. Only now had the orbital-fighter construction factory at the Mercury Sun Works shipped its first batch of new and improved space fighters. Thus, only a few of the dreaded orbitals had been left at the platforms. They ran on full automatic. No living beings, especially not superior new men, were on the attacked platforms. The x-ray beams annihilated the few remaining fighters, the robots in the station and maintenance, and one of the laser platforms, which was also devoid of Highborn personnel. The ice-covered bombs destroyed mere shells; Highborn targets set to take the brunt of a blow they suspected had to be coming soon.
Operation Togo had begun with two deceptions, the Highborn’s trumping Social Unity’s.
14.
Seventy kilometers north of Beijing, in the Joho Mountains, lay a three hundred-year-old complex of coalmines. Deep within those mines was the mind of Operation Togo. This center coordinated the many and various military limbs of the largest amphibious assault in human history.
In the early morning of 10 May, and several minutes after x-rays demolished the Highborn platforms, dim green light flooded the inner command center, and the glowing eyes of a hundred-odd TV screens added to the illumination. The headquarters staff monitoring these screens and providing communication with the outer limbs spoke in quiet whispers and crept about on soft-soled shoes. Air Marshal Ulrich, a thick-shouldered bull of man and a main nerve nexus to the decision node of this brain, glared at the screens showing various northern Chinese airfields.
HB-13 Annihilators were catapulted out of underground runways, lofting the heavy bombers into the dark, morning sky. Behind them followed long-range NF-5 Night Owls and Wobbly Goblins 9000s, the latest in electronic counter measures aircraft. AL-101 Standoff Screamers, which launched near-space missiles, roared up last to do battle with the remaining space stations. Hundreds of aircraft per hidden base sped into the night sky, heading toward their rendezvous point over the East China Sea.
A colonel muttered quiet words to the air marshal. He checked his chronometer before grunting, “Scramble Korea.”
Airforce staff officers leaned toward their mikes, issuing orders. The screens switched to underground Korean airfields, where swarms of F-33 Tigers and A-14 Laser Razors buzzed into the night sky like angry wasps. They headed directly for the Tsushima Strait and Japan beyond. Lastly lofted sleek attack choppers, whomping a few feet above the waves all the way to the islands.
In the circular chamber, left of air control, Admiral O’Connor likewise studied screens. His showed Earth’s last carriers, the latest in ship design. The fast, submersible carriers rose out of the deep and whisked toward Japan on a cushion of air. First Fleet and Second Fleet together numbered over twenty of the sub-hover flattops. They launched bombers, fighters, surveillance craft and cunning ECM drones. Third, Fourth and Fifth Fleets contained every other major oceanic unit left to Earth. Serene underwater shots showed an armada of sleek hunter/killer submarines and the much bulkier cruise missile submarines. Yet other screens provided an idea of the incredible number of troop transport and cargo ships at Social Unity’s disposal. In the first wave alone fully seven hundred thousand SU soldiers, twenty-five hundred bio-tanks and one thousand cybertanks would land in the beleaguered Japanese Islands to hurl the hated invader off Earth.
Space control, to the left of Navy, waited to order the interceptors into action and to issue the go-word for the merculite missile batteries in Hong Kong, Beijing and Tokyo. Meanwhile, the newly placed and incredibly powerful proton beam stations in Manila, Taipei, Shanghai and Vladivostok clawed near-Earth orbit, obliterating the remaining space platforms. Already air-launched missiles from the Standoff Screamers roared into near-orbital space to finish off what the beams missed.
General James Hawthorne paced back and forth in the center of command. Against the Lord Director’s strictest orders he had kept observers in various farm habitats orbiting Earth. Despite the open habitat order granted by the Highborn, General Hawthorne needed military personnel there to give him far ranging eyes into space. His disobedience was a tremendous gamble in two completely different ways. If the Highborn found out, they might destroy the habs or they might rescind the open order. If they did either, those areas of Earth still under Social Unity’s control could face massive starvation. The second danger, a much more personal threat, was that Lord Director Enkov’s allegiance monitors—ruthless secret police agents—might uncover his disobedience. They pried everywhere, and were one source of Enkov’s unprecedented power. The bionic guards who lined the circular command chamber and watched everyone were the other source.
General Hawthorne briefly mused upon the Lord Director’s ways. Enkov believed in blunt power used brutally. The Lord Director had taken captive family members from each of his military officers ranked colonel or higher. These members had become hostages for their good behavior. It was an ancient trick, and so far, it had worked beautifully, at least in terms of maintained loyalty.
General Hawthorne paced as his air armadas gathered like hungry wolves off Japan’s shores. He paced as his fleets hurried to disgorge hundreds of highly trained battalions into battle. He clasped his hands behind his back and strode first one direction and then another. He wore no soft-soled shoes, but military gear that clattered on the tiled floor. He paced in the dim green light. He paced, and he smelled danger. Yes, four weeks ago he’d been in favor of Operation Togo. But since then… was this a trap? He couldn’t shake the feeling. And if it were a trap… who would shoulder the blame for it? Not the Lord Director.
The minutes ticked by. The general paced, and his staff officers pointedly ignored him as they studied their screens. Tension grew. He radiated it. They felt it. So far, the Highborn hadn’t reacted. No lasers stabbed out of space. The stations had been destroyed or damaged beyond use. No orbital fighters screamed down to face his
