Ningal smiled sadly. She felt so old. If Rim-Sin had lived, would she still possess a youngish body due to the treatments? How fast life had flashed by. What would happen to her beautiful son once she was gone? Assur was so clever, maybe even just as clever as his father the Chief Marshal was. It was too bad that Assur wasn’t more ruthless like his father.

  In any case, the Akkad continued its journey. Assur the cadet told her how the officers on the bridge watched the stars. Some of the sensors studied the nebula they were leaving behind.

  The Annihilator missiles would reach the nebula in a little more than five years. It would take another five plus years to see if the missiles made it though.

  “Ten maybe eleven more years,” Ningal whispered as she sat in bed. Would she even be alive then at the rate she aged? She sighed, shaking her head. The old saying was the best in this. Time would tell.

  -27-

  26.25 LIGHT YEARS FROM EARTH

  138 YEARS AGO

  Ningal, leaning on her cane, followed her son, Group Leader Assur. She was one hundred and eighteen years old, an ancient crone indeed.

  Eighty-eight-year-old Chief Marshal Enki was having a celebration today. If everything went according to plan, they would finally see the outcome at the nebula, the one the Akkad had smashed through eleven years ago.

  Enki predicted there would be no sign of the Annihilators. Enki’s grip on power had weakened over the past few years. A key reason was the implementation of a strict population control edict. There were 153,301 people aboard the Akkad, far too many and straining the ship’s resources.

  Enki had enforced age sterilization and a police committee to back it up. As Enki aged, the Valiant Police Committee (VPC) saw a significant increase in its power. In response, growing unrest had sprung up throughout the ship.

  There was one odd thing about Enki’s health and strength compared to his age. It was better than any other Valiant aboard that was in his age category.

  Ningal had come to believe that Enki used the Rim-Sin Longevity Treatments, which he no doubt hoarded for himself instead of sharing with her. The treatments didn’t work as well on him as they would have for her—that was given that Enki took them. His DNA simply wasn’t the same as hers was.

  During the past few years, Enki had demoted many Valiants from their command positions. More VPC enforcers guarded Enki wherever he went through the corridors or public spaces. He had started loyalty oaths and then tests among the crew.

  Ningal’s mind was still sharp enough to understand all this. To her, the best thing about the edict and troubles was a rise in status for her son Assur. Enki trusted Assur as much as he did anyone. That boded well for the twenty-eight year old for as long as his father ruled. But if Enki should be deposed by coup…

  Ningal didn’t like to worry about such things. She worried about family and little else. She didn’t think she was going to live much longer. Her bones hurt and she had colds all the time. If only sweet Rim-Sin were still alive. He would have kept her alive, too, and in young health. Rim-Sin had loved life. It had taken Ningal far too many years to see this. Yes, Rim-Sin had expunged the old-style People. But he had sought for the elixir of life, immortality. Who but a man in love with life would have done something like that?

  The difference with Rim-Sin was that he’d had the brains to do it. He’d worked tirelessly. Enki shouldn’t have castrated her second husband. That had been needlessly cruel.

  One thing still troubled Ningal about Rim-Sin. They’d never had any children together. Could Rim-Sin have possessed defective balls? It clearly hadn’t been her, as she’d produced a son through Enki.

  “Hurry, mother,” Assur said. “You must concentrate on what you’re doing.”

  “Yes, dear,” Ningal said, trying to hobble faster.

  Assur had turned twenty-eight two months ago. He lifted hard and practiced hand-to-hand combat techniques all the time. He couldn’t really compete against full Valiants, but damn if he didn’t try.

  Ningal tried all the time to get Assur to concentrate on his mind. That was the thing. Physical prowess was important, but the mind was a greater tool and power than mere muscles.

  Look at Rim-Sin for example. He’d held the Valiants at bay for many years because of his intellect and little else.

  The main hatch opened and Ningal and Assur walked onto the bridge.

  “All rise,” Chief Marshal Enki said in his deep voice.

  All the bridge officers, ensigns and cadets stood, saluting Ningal as she hobbled onto the bridge.

  Ningal felt a chill. She hadn’t been up here what seemed like forever. Why did all these big strong Valiants salute her?

  Damn if Enki didn’t supply the answer. Maybe he could still tell what she was thinking.

  As Enki spoke, Ningal looked at him. He was still imposing, but he had a gut on him. He had wrinkled skin as well and huge bags under his eyes. He didn’t look like the all-powerful soldier that he’d once been. He looked old and used up, although not as old or used up as she did.

  “The oldest living person aboard the Akkad,” Enki said in his ringing voice. That still sounded good.

  Ningal could have told Enki that he was wrong about her. Sargon was older still, but he was in stasis. So did that even count?

  “Here’s a seat, mother,” Assur said.

  Her son helped her sit so she faced the great screen that Enki had installed a year ago.

  “At ease,” Enki said.

  The officers turned back to their stations.

  How odd, Ningal realized. The situation aboard the Akkad was constantly changing. Once it had been akin to a pirate vessel, the Valiants releasing their pent-up sexual needs on a mere two thousand women of the old-style People.

  That pirate age or era had long passed. Order had returned with a vengeance as the Valiant Police Committee enforced the Great Edict. Enki was attempting to go back to the old way before his making. No one could have a child unless someone else died. Since the ship was already overpopulated, that might not work over time.

  Ningal was sure Enki understood that.

  Someone spoke in a hushed voice.

  Ningal realized she’d been dozing. She raised her head, looking around, trying to understand what this was all about.

  “The screen, Mother,” Assur said.

  Ningal turned to her left, seeing her son standing there. He must have seen her confusion and come to help her.

  “The screen?” Ningal asked.

  Assur pointed.

  Ningal fixed her weak gaze on the giant screen before her. She sat ahead of Enki in his command chair.

  Assur strode to the screen, and he clicked on a laser pointer. He showed everyone, but mostly Ningal, the outline of the distant nebula.

  “Now we learn,” Assur said.

  Ningal smiled. Today they might learn the truth. Could the massed particles of the nebula have worn down the armored hulls on each of the Type Four Annihilator cones? Might the second nebula have destroyed the Vim missiles for them?

  Enki had said it was so. For some reason, he’d staked his reputation on that.

  Ningal realized why. Enki’s reputation was falling. He struggled to maintain his post as the head bull, the strongest bull of the herd. Could everything really be that simple and primitive?

  Ningal turned around and stared at her third husband.

  Enki glanced at her and then stared fixedly at the screen.

  Ningal was astonished to realize she saw his worry. It might be the first time in her life she saw it. Might he have worried at other times, but been able to hide it? Or did age and the accompanying weakness bring worries that hadn’t existed in youth, or a more youthful time?

  “Look!” Assur said.

  All eyes, including Ningal’s weak ones, were glued to the big screen. There was an unexpected flash of bright light, and then it was gone.

  “What does that indicate?” Enki said.

  Ningal heard the catch in the Chief Marshal’s voice. If she did, surely others on the bridge did as well.

  “Group Leader Assur, what was that flash?” Enki asked.

  Assur walked sedately to his station. There, he studied something. “Spectral analysis says the flash was an antimatter explosion,” he said.

  Enki considered that. “Why, that has to be from an Annihilator warhead.”

  “Agreed,” Assur said.

  Enki shouted with joy. A moment later, so did others.

  Ningal noticed that Assur did not join the others in the shouting.

  Soon enough, Enki must have realized that. “What’s wrong, Group Leader?”

  “If you will give me a moment, Chief Marshal,” Assur said. “I’m trying to understand…” His voice droned away.

  “Yes, yes, figure it out…” Enki trailed off. Maybe he understood he was sounding too needy.

  Assur tapped screens, manipulated buttons and began to nod as he examined a monitor.

  “Well?” Enki demanded from the command chair.

  “As we surmised,” Assur said, “an Annihilator warhead ignited. We are even now learning the power of the warhead. I won’t say it’s off the scale, but it’s greater than anyone anticipated.”

  Enki grunted. That was obviously bad news.

  “Good thing the second nebula destroyed all the missiles then,” an officer said.

  Enki pointed at the man.

  Assur looked up, witnessing that. Then he went back to studying his monitor.

  Ningal watched the big screen but focused more on Assur. She saw the tension in her son’s shoulders. Something deeply bothered him. What did Assur know that he didn’t want to share with everyone else?

  Assur worked harder at the monitor, almost as if he was double-checking. At last, he straightened slowly and regarded Enki. “Sir,” he said, “could I speak with you in private?”

  “Nonsense,” Enki said, as he glanced around the bridge. “What have you learned? Tell us.”

  “Uh, If I could speak to you in private…”

  Enki scowled thunderously. “I said spit it out. Do it now, Group Leader. That is an order.”

  Ningal knew that was a mistake. Enki had misjudged the moment. He could probably ill afford to do that.

  “As you wish, Chief Marshal,” Assur said. “The first of the Annihilator missiles, or its warhead, ignited. After further study, I do not believe the ignition was an accident, but on purpose.”

  “What possible purpose could there be?” asked Enki.

  “To make a path through the nebula for the other two missiles,” Assur said. “It appears as if the blast was shape charged or aimed.”

  “You see the other two missiles?” Enki asked, his voice rising.

  “I am not one hundred percent certain,” Assur said. “But given what I’m seeing, I believe two missiles have survived and will continue to give chase.”

  Enki stared at his son wordlessly.

  Ningal blinked from her seat. This was a disaster for her third husband and maybe for the Akkad.

  Several officers glanced sharply at each other. Their wordless glances seemed conspiratorial.

  Ningal saw it. Maybe Assur did as well.

  “Congratulations, Chief Marshal,” Assur said suddenly in a ringing voice.

  “What?” Enki asked.

  “Your maneuver was a success, sir,” Assur said. “You destroyed an Annihilator missile. No one has ever done that before. Our odds for victory have just risen sharply. Now we must merely contend with two missiles instead of three.”

  Enki stared at Assur. Then it must have penetrated his old gray matter. He forced a broad smile onto his face and in his voice. “Just so, Group Leader. We have destroyed one of the Vim missiles. It is proof that we are going to win.”

  “Yes, Chief Marshal,” Assur said.

  “A song,” Enki said loudly, looking around. “Let us give cry to the Valiant victory paean.”

  The bridge crew broke out in the victory chant. Some sang loudly, but it still rang false. Assur had tried to wring a positive out of this, but…

  Ningal felt sure that her third husband’s hold on power had just taken its hardest shot yet.

  -28-

  Exhausted from the bridge’s events, Ningal slept for days. She woke up, used the bathroom, nibbled on some concentrates and then went back to bed. She was mentally and physically exhausted after the ordeal.

  She was nearing the end of her life. That was obvious to her. Her skin was so wrinkled and spotted. She hated looking in a mirror or examining any part of her once beautiful body.

  Age was a curse.

  After a week, Ningal began to feel a little more human again.

  Later in the day, her hatch opened and Assur her son rushed in. “Mother, are you well?”

  Ningal looked up from the tablet she read at a desk. “What happened to your arm?”

  A sling supported Assur’s left arm, with his forearm encased in a cast.

  “What happened I asked?” Ningal said.

  “You’ve ignored all summons,” said Assur, sidestepping her question.

  “Young man,” Ningal said. “You will answer me.”

  After a moment, Assur nodded. “I helped to defend the Chief Marshal. There was an incident in a main corridor. The incident involved Valiants pushing, shoving, and shouting.”

  “Is Enki hurt?”

  “To a degree,” Assur said.

  “What’s been happening?” Ningal said.

  Assur sighed. “There have been several assassination attempts against the Chief Marshal and three formal challenges to a duel,” Assur said.

  “All focused against your father?”

  “Yes,” Assur said.

  “How hurt is he?”

  Assur eyed her closely.

  “What’s this?” Ningal said. “Don’t you trust your own mother?”

  “It has nothing to do with that,” Assur said. “You’re to come with me.”

  “No. I’m tired. I don’t want to go anywhere with anyone.”

  “You must, Mother. This is an official command.”

  “Is Enki planning to kill me?”

  “What?” Assur asked. “No. Why would you think that?”

  “You’re being secretive,” Ningal said. “That isn’t like you. What’s the matter with you?”

  “Nothing’s the matter,” Assur said. “I’m practicing your policy. Don’t you remember? I’m using my mind instead of my brawn. I’m not going to win higher rank through fighting prowess, but by outthinking others and maybe by utilizing a ruthless drive.”

  “Is Enki dying?”

  “Not yet,” Assur said. “But his hold on the ship is shaky at best. The VPC still back him. Without the police, he’d be dead, I’m sure.”

  “Enki shouldn’t have made that prediction about the missiles being destroyed,” Ningal said. “That was a needless mistake.”

  Assur shrugged. “It hardly matters now. Mother, you must come with me. I implore you, do this the easy way.”

  “Yes,” Ningal said. “You’re right. Let me get my cane.”

  Soon, with Assur guiding her by an elbow, Ningal shuffled through ship corridors. She left her area and entered the command region of the ship. There were black-uniformed VPC personnel everywhere. Most had holstered beamers and wore body armor and helmets that were proof against shredders.

  Finally, Assur helped her into Enki’s grand suite. Several beautiful Valiant women looked up. They were sitting on cushions playing a board game. They were tall, big-breasted females, wonderfully beautiful with the smoothest of skin and thickest, longest hair.

  “Father stints himself nothing,” Assur said under his breath. “For your own good, be polite to them, Mother.”

  “Greetings,” Ningal said to the women.

  All three beauties stood and nodded their longhaired heads to her.

  Assur led Ningal into an inner sanctum. Medical machinery surrounded a large bed. A Valiant doctor and nurse attended the bedridden Chief Marshal. Enki looked wan with his old head on a set of pillows and a blanket almost up to his chin. Tubes ran under the covers and no doubt into his side. According to the outline under the blanket, he was long but seemed shrunken compared to his old self.

  Time breaks us all, Ningal thought.

  “Sir,” the doctor said in his blue gown.

  Enki didn’t respond.

  The doctor shook a shoulder.

  Enki’s eyes opened slowly. They were bloodshot. “What?” he said in a husky voice.

  “Old Mother is here to see you,” the doctor said.

  Ningal hated that name. It was for her. She was the oldest person aboard the Akkad. Whoever thought she would play the part of the old one. She longed for her youth or even afterward. Encased in this withered form—

  “Ningal,” Enki said hoarsely. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  Ningal said nothing.

  “Go,” Enki wheezed to the others. “Everyone leave but for her.”

  The doctor complained.

  “Go,” Enki said, the strain of command weakening him.

  Soon, the others filed out, including Assur. He looked back at her, then went through and closed the door behind him.

  “Come here,” Enki said.

  Ningal hobbled to the side of the bed.

  “I’m dying,” Enki said.

  Ningal said nothing. She could see he was dying.

  “Do you hate me?” Enki whispered.

  “No.”

  “You hate me,” Enki said. “You loved Rim-Sin, didn’t you?”

  “Yes,” Ningal said.

  “I know. Rim-Sin died hard.” Enki paused to cough weakly. “I shouldn’t have done all those things to him. But I did. There’s nothing I can do to change that.” He breathed heavily. “Assassins almost killed me. I might recover, but I doubt I’m going to have the time to do so. That means I need to take a longshot.”

  “I don’t understand,” Ningal said.

  “I took many of the treatments Rim-Sin had left for you.”

  Ningal’s features tightened. She felt like cursing Enki for that. But what was the point?

  “I have another secret,” Enki said. “I could never pierce it. Maybe you can, I don’t know. If you can, use it on me, I implore you.”

  “I still don’t understand,” Ningal said.