Fade Out by Patrick Tilley

SAINTS was equipped with TV cameras and carried fifty tiny guided missiles with conventional explosive warheads.
    Their task was to spy on the growing number of Russian satellites launched in secret, for purposes known only to the Kremlin. Twenty-four SAINTS were now in orbit at varying heights.
    It was in June 1982 that one of the SAINTS recorded in secret a careful inspection by its first Russian counterpart. Since then, the Russians had put up a total of twenty ‘killer’ satellites. The Defense Department, in line with their usual policy of denigration, had christened them with the code name sows – for Soviet Orbital Weapons System.
    The control and deployment of the SAINTS was the responsibility of the Air Force – which may have explained why Clayson had to clear his throat a couple of times before he could answer.
    â€˜I regret to say that at the present time we are unable to put this craft under surveillance.’
    â€˜Why?’ asked Fraser.
    â€˜Because the latest operational status report indicates a total malfunction return from all SAINTS currently in orbit.’ At moments like this, Clayson tended to lapse into Pentagonese.
    Fraser stared at him. ‘You mean to say
none
of them are working?’
    â€˜That’s correct. We’re getting zero response to all signals that normally trigger off the transmission of visual and telemetric data, and we’ve been unable to activate the backup circuits that are designed to take over in the event of a primary malfunction.’
    â€˜Fucking hell,’ said Fraser. ‘When did all this happen?’
    â€˜Over the last forty-eight hours,’ said Clayson.
    â€˜And that’s not all,’ said Wedderkind. ‘We’re not getting transmissions from anything we’ve got up there. Research, navigation, weather, communications satellites – the whole civilian network’s blown a fuse. Intelsats,Comsats – everything.’ He shook his head. ‘I hate to think just how many millions of dollars’ worth of investment that represents.’
    â€˜Yeah, well, thanks for telling me,’ said Fraser. ‘How come I didn’t get any indication on the extent of these breakdowns before now?’
    â€˜I didn’t start to get the whole picture myself until this morning,’ said Clayson. ‘This was a progressive failure. Before I got on to this, there had been several determined efforts at lower command levels to get on top of the situation. A lot of this satellite circuitry is very temperamental. Often what looks like a major breakdown clears after you sidetrack or shut down some of the circuits for a while. I tried to contact you before we left the East Coast but you were, uhh…’
    â€˜What about the Russian satellites?’ asked Samuels.
    â€˜No one’s heard a bleep from them since Friday,’ said Wedderkind. ‘It confirms what Chuck and I have been saying all along. Everything points to a colossal burst of X-ray or gamma radiation as the cause of the breakdown. It would affect their satellites too.’
    â€˜They’ve been shut down,’ said Fraser.
    â€˜What about the cosmonauts aboard Salyut 7 and the Mir space-station?’ asked McKenna.
    â€˜There’s been no word from them since Friday morning,’ said Wedderkind.
    â€˜Of course not,’ said Fraser. ‘They’ve been told to stay off the air too.’
    McKenna frowned. ‘Why?’
    â€˜To keep us in the dark,’ said Fraser. ‘While those sons of bitches in the Kremlin work out what to do next.’
    Samuels closed his file of intelligence digests. ‘Who’s going to tell the Old Man about this?’
    â€˜I will,’ said Fraser. It would be a moment he would relish.

    In the study, Connors listened in on the line as the President talked to the Soviet Premier.
    Apart from having, as Fraser firmly believed, the advantage of being a good half inch