Read Online House of the Sun by Nigel Findley - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Nigel Findley
Tags: Science-Fiction, Fantasy
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declaration of independence, encrypted messages downlinked from military satellites to the flagship of the Pacific fleet—no doubt the military equivalent of "get your sorry asses back there, and clean this mess up."
While the new King Kam was consolidating his control at home, his new allies weren't idle. A delegation of megacorps—led by Yamatetsu, it seems—was already pressuring Washington to recognize Hawai'i as a sovereign state. The feds told the corps precisely what they could do with that idea, and ordered the Pacific fleet to flank speed.
I wish I'd been there for the next act of this saga—it must have been quite a show. Mere minutes after Washington's rejection of the megacorps' "polite suggestion," a barrage of "Thor shots" bracketed the USS Enterprise, the flattop that was the flagship of the Pacific fleet.
("Hold the phone," I hear you say. "What the flying frag is a 'Thor shot ' ?" Thought you'd never ask.
(Project Thor dates back—way back, apparently, to the middle of the last century or thereabouts—but it's an idea whose time had come. Project Thor envisioned putting a whole drekload of "semismart" projectiles in low Earth orbit, equipped with little more than a retro-rocket, some steering vanes, and a dog-brain seeker head on the tip. No warhead, because one isn't needed. Basically, they're just "smart crowbars." When you need to send a blunt message to someone, just send the appropriate commands to a couple dozen Thor projectiles. They fire their retros to kick themselves out of orbit, then plummet free toward the ground at some horrendous speed. Their seeker heads now start looking for an appropriate target, depending on their programming—a Main battle tank, maybe, or the dome of the Capitol Building ... or something that looks like an aircraft carrier. Down they come, packing Great Ghu knows how much kinetic energy, and whatever they hit just kinda goes away . . . probably accompanied by much pyrotechnics. In essence, then, Thor shots are just guided meteorites. Elegant idea, neh!
(That was the idea, but as far as anyone knew—up to 2017, at least—nobody had actually implemented Project Thor. To this day, nobody's precisely sure who fired the rounds that vaporized a couple of tons of seawater off the Enterprise's bows.
(But I can make a pretty good guess, based on some interesting coincidences. Coincidentally, 2017 was the year in which Ares Macrotechnology took over the old Freedom space station, the one they eventually modified and renamed Zurich-Orbital. Just as coincidentally, Ares was the only megacorp with orbital assets anywhere near the correct "window" for a Thor shot into the central Pacific. And—also coincidentally, of course—Ares was one of the megacorps with which our friend Danforth Ho had enjoyed the longest and most intense private discussions . . . Quelle chance . . .
(End of digression.)
So that was it. Screened by Aegis cruisers or not, there was no way a carrier battle group could intercept Thor shots, or survive them if they landed. Once more, the task force reversed course, and slunk dispiritedly into San Diego harbor. The feds recognized Hawai'i's independence, and King Kam IV became the head of a constitutional monarchy that still exists today. And they all lived happily ever after ...
Null! As I said before, megacorps don't give gifts; they make investments. Now they came to King Kam looking for some major return on their investments. Like special trade deals, extraterritoriality, and basically almost complete freedom to do biz as they saw fit in the islands.
The people of Hawai'i liked the idea of independence from the U.S., and they weren't convinced that immediately giving up that independence to the megacorps was such a swift idea. The leadership of Na Kama'aina —yep, it was still hanging around—decided that this was a perfect lever to pry away King Kam's popular support (and, ideally, to put their own figurehead—a real figurehead this
While the new King Kam was consolidating his control at home, his new allies weren't idle. A delegation of megacorps—led by Yamatetsu, it seems—was already pressuring Washington to recognize Hawai'i as a sovereign state. The feds told the corps precisely what they could do with that idea, and ordered the Pacific fleet to flank speed.
I wish I'd been there for the next act of this saga—it must have been quite a show. Mere minutes after Washington's rejection of the megacorps' "polite suggestion," a barrage of "Thor shots" bracketed the USS Enterprise, the flattop that was the flagship of the Pacific fleet.
("Hold the phone," I hear you say. "What the flying frag is a 'Thor shot ' ?" Thought you'd never ask.
(Project Thor dates back—way back, apparently, to the middle of the last century or thereabouts—but it's an idea whose time had come. Project Thor envisioned putting a whole drekload of "semismart" projectiles in low Earth orbit, equipped with little more than a retro-rocket, some steering vanes, and a dog-brain seeker head on the tip. No warhead, because one isn't needed. Basically, they're just "smart crowbars." When you need to send a blunt message to someone, just send the appropriate commands to a couple dozen Thor projectiles. They fire their retros to kick themselves out of orbit, then plummet free toward the ground at some horrendous speed. Their seeker heads now start looking for an appropriate target, depending on their programming—a Main battle tank, maybe, or the dome of the Capitol Building ... or something that looks like an aircraft carrier. Down they come, packing Great Ghu knows how much kinetic energy, and whatever they hit just kinda goes away . . . probably accompanied by much pyrotechnics. In essence, then, Thor shots are just guided meteorites. Elegant idea, neh!
(That was the idea, but as far as anyone knew—up to 2017, at least—nobody had actually implemented Project Thor. To this day, nobody's precisely sure who fired the rounds that vaporized a couple of tons of seawater off the Enterprise's bows.
(But I can make a pretty good guess, based on some interesting coincidences. Coincidentally, 2017 was the year in which Ares Macrotechnology took over the old Freedom space station, the one they eventually modified and renamed Zurich-Orbital. Just as coincidentally, Ares was the only megacorp with orbital assets anywhere near the correct "window" for a Thor shot into the central Pacific. And—also coincidentally, of course—Ares was one of the megacorps with which our friend Danforth Ho had enjoyed the longest and most intense private discussions . . . Quelle chance . . .
(End of digression.)
So that was it. Screened by Aegis cruisers or not, there was no way a carrier battle group could intercept Thor shots, or survive them if they landed. Once more, the task force reversed course, and slunk dispiritedly into San Diego harbor. The feds recognized Hawai'i's independence, and King Kam IV became the head of a constitutional monarchy that still exists today. And they all lived happily ever after ...
Null! As I said before, megacorps don't give gifts; they make investments. Now they came to King Kam looking for some major return on their investments. Like special trade deals, extraterritoriality, and basically almost complete freedom to do biz as they saw fit in the islands.
The people of Hawai'i liked the idea of independence from the U.S., and they weren't convinced that immediately giving up that independence to the megacorps was such a swift idea. The leadership of Na Kama'aina —yep, it was still hanging around—decided that this was a perfect lever to pry away King Kam's popular support (and, ideally, to put their own figurehead—a real figurehead this
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