Free Able One by Ben Bova

Diminutive Taki looked like a lost little waif in the gray webbing.
    The intercom hummed briefly, then, “Mr. Hartunian, could you come up to the flight deck, please?”
    Harry’s brows shot up. “What the hell for?” he wondered aloud.
    “Maybe she wants to give you a flying lesson,” Delany wisecracked.
    “Or maybe she’s lonely up there,” said Rosenberg, with a smirk.
    She’s got a copilot, a communications officer, and a navigator up there, Harry thought. All men. And all of them a lot younger than me. She’s not lonely.
    Puzzled, he unlocked his safety harness and went to the forward hatch of the compartment. As he did, he heard the whine of the second of the plane’s four turbojet engines start up and quickly turn into a roar. The plane began to vibrate noticeably.
    Ducking through the hatch, Harry made his way past the plane’s minuscule galley and up the ladder that led to the flight deck. A lanky young black lieutenant was on his feet up there, tall enough that his closely cropped hair nearly brushed the overhead. Harry had never seen him before this morning. He recognized the communications officer, though: a stubby little red-haired captain seated at his board full of dials and screens, headphones clamped to his ears.
    The lieutenant introduced himself. “I’m the new navigator, Lieutenant Sharmon. You must be Mr. Hartunian.”
    “Harry.”
    Sharmon nodded and put out his hand. “I’m Jon. Without an aitch.”
    “Jon,” Harry said, grasping the lieutenant’s proffered hand. The kid’s grip was firm, his long fingers wrapped around Harry’s hand.
    “I’ll tell Colonel Christopher you’re here.”
    One by one the plane’s engines were growling into life. Harry stood uneasily next to the communications console while Lieutenant Sharmon ducked through the cockpit hatch. Harry caught a glimpse of the control panel, studded with instruments and sensor screens, and the windshield above it. It still looked miserably gray and foggy outside.
    Maybe they’ve canceled the flight, Harry thought. But then he countered, So why’s she powering up the engines?
    Lieutenant Colonel Christopher came out and forced a smile for him. She was small, petite really, but he could see that she had an adult’s body beneath her blue fatigues. Dark hair, bright, intelligent eyes. Really pretty, he realized once again. For a moment he thought she looked familiar, as if he’d seen her somewhere before. But that’s impossible, Harry thought. Our paths haven’t crossed before this. Still, he couldn’t shake the nagging thought that they had.
    “Mr. Hartunian,” she said without offering to shake hands.
    Harry nodded. The colonel looked as grim as death.
    “We have a situation on our hands,” she said.
    “A situation?” Harry asked.
    “I just got a top-priority message relayed from Washington. There’s been an attack on our orbiting satellites and--”
    “An attack?”
    “A missile fired from North Korea detonated a nuclear device in geosynchronous orbit several hours ago. Just about every civilian satellite around the world has been knocked out of service.”
    Harry gaped at her, his heart suddenly pumping wildly. “From North Korea?”
    “We’ve been ordered to proceed to a position over the Sea of Japan and be prepared to shoot down any more missiles that the North Koreans launch.” Christopher spoke crisply, with no hesitation, no doubts in her tone.
    “But we can’t... I mean, we’re supposed to be testing the laser. We’re not ready for a shooting war.”
    Colonel Christopher said, “You techies are never ready for reality, but ready or not, Mr. Hartunian, those are our orders. Get your people on the mark. Make sure that ray gun of yours works right.”
     
    Jefferson Hotel, Washington D.C.
    It had started to rain. Looking out the window of the penthouse suite’s sitting room, the Secretary of State saw brittle dry leaves gusting across the pavement far below. The afternoon sky was clouded