The US Air Force, which runs Cheyenne Mountain, invited me here because it wants to show off its new computer system, the result of a $1.8 billion overhaul that may be the most expensive and nightmarish upgrade ever attempted. One general compared the process to changing the engines of a jet in flight. Another likened it to turning a black-and-white TV into a color one without switching the set off.

The upgrade was outrageously tough because Cheyenne Mountain was burdened with a formidable legacy problem. Its Systems Center, in charge of the complex's hardware, networks, and software, maintains more than 12 million lines of code on 34 separate systems written in 27 languages. The site's array of machines, many of which survived this upgrade, encapsulates a history not just of the Cold War but of modern computing. Bearing old nameplates from companies like Honeywell and Data General, hardware that uses the hoary technologies of core memory and magnetic tape is still whirring away in there.

"We've even got one of those washing-machine computers somewhere," says Dean.

Washing-machine computers?

"The ones with the big tape reels that look like washing machines."

The upgrade started more than two decades ago, mainly to address Cheyenne Mountain's inability to process the increasing amounts of information fed into it. Despite this system weakness, the mountain has kept us safe since its inception - and the official word is that this latest upgrade makes us that much safer. But today, safety seems slightly beside the point. The Cold War is over. Despite its brass and bustle, Cheyenne Mountain has become an anachronism.

As far back as 1980, the Pentagon's assumption was that all the bunkering-in here was for naught - that Norad couldn't last more than half an hour or so in a targeted nuclear exchange. Although the mountain is the ultimate monument to "command and control" as an idea, in a real nuclear war the action would quickly switch over to mobile hubs. The president has a 747 called the National Airborne Operations Center, as well as the Commander-in-Chief Mobile Alternate Headquarters, a fleet of mysterious truck-based units that roam the nation's interstates. The Air Force maintains the Post Attack Battle Management Aircraft - better known as "Looking Glass," a flying duplicate of the mountain's systems - fueled and ready to go at all times.

The E-4B serves as the National Airborne Operations Center (NAOC) for the National Command Authorities. In case of a national emergency or destruction of ground command control centers, the aircraft provides a modern, highly survivable, command, control and communications center to direct U.S. forces, execute emergency war orders and coordinate actions by civil authorities.

Background

The E-4B evolved from the E-4A, which had been in service since late-1974. The first B-model was delivered to the Air Force in January 1980, and by 1985 all aircraft were converted to E-4B standard. These aircraft are assigned to the 55th Wing, Offutt AFB, NE.

In August 1994, the E-4B assumed an additional role. With the approval of the JCS chairman, the E-4B will support the Federal Emergency Management Agency's (FEMA) request for assistance when a natural disaster occurs. The E-4B would be tasked to fly the FEMA Emergency Response Team to the disaster site, and become the FEMA command and control center until the emergency team's own equipment and facilities can be set up. With E-4B support, the emergency team's response is a matter of hours, as opposed to days.

Originally posted by Zaphod58
Except that NORAD was only in charge of the initial response. That's what Looking Glass was for in the 80s, and NAOC is for now.