“What is that?” Sardu grumbled.

  “It demonstrates that we are obedient.”

  “I haven’t been obedient,” Sardu said. “You’ve put my life at grave risk. I thought we had a better plan than this.”

  “Patience, you must have patience, Spymaster.”

  Sardu looked intently at Naram Sin. “This is not the whole plan then?”

  “No,” Naram Sin said. “It is not.”

  “What is it?”

  “We must capture the king, “Naram Sin said.

  “I do not understand what that means.”

  “We must kill Assur.”

  Sardu’s eyes widened. “Are you mad? Assur is better protected than any Valiant you have ever known.”

  “That may be, but we will get close to him. This message will ensure it.”

  Sardu studied Naram Sin’s face and finally said, “I am beginning to perceive that you are very clever, Chess Master.”

  Naram Sin allowed himself the slightest of nods. It was time to send the message and see what Assur’s response and perhaps the elders’ would be to it.

  -11-

  The next day on Titan, Chief Marshal Assur stalked out of the Elder Board Meeting and, in silent fury, moved along the sidewalks of the colony. People greeted him. He nodded absently. His security detail walked with him, giving him some room so it made him look like he was one of the people. Even so, their weapons were ready to gun down any who might make a suspicious move toward the leader of the Valiants.

  Assur walked swiftly, even though he knew— He grimaced and put a hand against his stomach. Pain twisted his gut. He stopped, shivering. He heard voices, people speaking around him. Then he noticed two of his bodyguards looking at him anxiously.

  “I’m fine, I’m fine,” Assur whispered.

  “You’re sweating, sir,” the larger of the bodyguards said.

  “Yes, yes, it’s just a bit of indigestion, nothing more.”

  “Of course, sir,” the bodyguard said, stepping back.

  “I need to get to my quarters.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  Assur resumed walking, but not at a swift pace anymore. He needed to see a medic about this. What was causing the stomach pains? Was it a deadly disease, or was it stress?

  That old dullard Sardu hadn’t killed Baal as ordered. It was obvious what had happened. It had the Chess Master’s fingerprints all over it. That had been such a clever speech Baal had made. Those fools, those dupes on the Elder Board, had gobbled it up like dogs did vomit.

  Assur had seen a ghastly Earth nature show. Dogs ate their own vomit. How could the Earthlings stand those ghastly four-legged beasts? Those fools on the Elder Board thought Baal was noble by taking the responsibility for the failure. The elders did not want to oppose Baal for his stupidity, for his lack of imagination, for his lack of brilliance.

  Assur shook his head. He had sent a dullard to do a war captain’s job and this is what had happened: damn failure.

  Assur noticed a few women looking away as he stalked by with his thunderous scowl. He quickly smoothed it out, as it wasn’t the demeanor he wanted the public to see.

  Instead, Assur smiled, nodded, and chucked a toddler under the chin, saying the lad was the future of the colony and the Valiant race. Then Assur continued along the path under the dome, which was under the orange smoggy sky.

  Baal was such a clever fat bastard, even though Baal did not look fat anymore. Assur had picked the blowhard as the excuse, able to toss him aside at a moment’s notice. No, Assur told himself. The truth was, he had chosen Baal because he didn’t think men like Naram Sin and Sardu would rally around him. Those two had chosen sides. Baal was a weak reed. What were they thinking? That is what bothered Assur.

  It also bothered Assur that the pathetic speech had swayed the majority of the elders. Therefore, Assur couldn’t simply depose Baal. He must move carefully.

  “Oh, Sardu, Sardu,” Assur muttered under his breath. “Why didn’t you kill that fool like I told you to?”

  It must be because Sardu had switched sides.

  Assur’s stomach twisted again.

  It was a warning sign, but not one to see a medic about. It was a warning sign that he was making a mistake, an error.

  Assur thought about that.

  He was older by many lifespans than anyone else in the colony. It was due to the drugs his mother’s second husband, Rim Sin, had concocted. Rim Sin had also refined the Valiants out of the People.

  When you ran everything for so long and were successful every time, you lost the sense of danger and the sense that you could lose. You became sloppy, making mistakes.

  Assur was determined not to make a mistake. He must survive long enough to smash the Earthers. Maybe afterward the scientists could find another set of drugs so he could live even longer. Assur did not want to die. He did not believe in An’Kar, the sky god, or any of those superstitions. He believed in the here and now and wanted to continue in the here and now and not end anytime soon.

  “Then focus, you old fool.”

  Assur entered a lift with several of his bodyguards and soon reached his apartment, where he went to his room. There he sat on a cushioned chair and undid his suit’s throat collar. He sat back.

  He was overlooking something, and needed to understand what that was. His opponent wasn’t Baal, although overtly it certainly was. No, his true opponent was the Chess Master. The Chess Master and Sardu had not obeyed him. Therefore, Sardu had told the Chess Master about the secret message.

  Assur finally understood what his gut was trying to tell him. Naram Sin understood his underhanded ways. Assur had used underhanded ways all his life. He was smaller than most of the soldier Valiants. Therefore, he had to use his wits and cunning to outthink them at every step. Now, he was facing a Valiant who had once been far too honest.

  “Have you remained honest, Naram Sin?” Assur asked aloud. He didn’t think so. So, he knew what he needed to do.

  Even three years ago, Assur had wondered if Sardu would switch allegiance. That had always been a problem. The Spymaster knew too much. So, three years ago, Assur had installed fail-safes.

  There were several of them aboard the Enkidu. Whom should he use? Ah, he knew the one. No one there would suspect Father Wolf as the assassin. There were code words, ways to reach the priest of An’Kar. Could Father Wolf kill two birds with one stone? Both Baal and Sardu needed to die.

  Naram Sin… Assur knew how to deal with the idealist. Naram Sin surely couldn’t have changed that much, though he certainly must think himself a clever boy these days.

  With that, Assur grunted as he stood, walked to his desk, and began penning his orders.

  -12-

  A message arrived from the Titan colony to the flagship of the invasion fleet, which was now decelerating hard.

  Deep within the Enkidu’s guts, in his small cubicle, Father Wolf sat on an acceleration couch with a straw connected to a large pot of beer. He had drunk a lot of beer before he strapped himself here, and now, as he watched a video from Earth, a scandalous one, he slurped more beer. He was a priest of An’Kar, but he was also a security operative, nominally under Sardu’s control.

  As he watched a sexually explicit scene, Father Wolf noticed a flashing light on a nightstand. It was close enough that, even in the heavy Gs of deceleration, he could reach it and put a special earbud into his ear. There, a special sequenced code of notes played.

  Father Wolf blinked, blinked again, and then he reached up and switched channels on the earbud. He heard two names: Baal, the first and thus the most important target, Sardu, the second name.

  A twisted expression crossed Father Wolf’s fleshy face.

  He had gained excessive weight since the journey, and it was due to a lack of exercise and a love of beer. He drank it whenever he had the chance. Nothing compared to the sweetness of intoxication. Why would a priest of An’Kar want intoxication so much? He had asked himself that. It just felt so good. Probably, An’Kar wouldn’t want him intoxicated. Now his mind reeled as conflicting thoughts ricocheted within his drunkenly conditioned mind.

  Father Wolf had undergone a new therapy before leaving the Titan colony. It had involved hypnotism and autosuggestions. They surfaced after three years of implantation and struggled with his intoxicated thoughts, his doubts, and self-loathing.

  That was probably the biggest part: self-loathing. He wished he were stronger, wiser, better, smarter, and more successful with the ladies. But beer—

  Father Wolf slurped some more through the straw, gulping it down. Beer would always be his friend until the day he died.

  Now he blinked and blinked, and a glazed look came over him.

  That was funny. The beer tasted off all of a sudden. He took the straw out, closed the pot, and set it at his feet, clamping it securely. Then he sat there, thinking.

  Because the braking maneuver took so long, an overwhelming desire to use the facilities built up in his groin. He used a special device and took a whiz right there, closing that container and setting it to the side as well. It was disgusting, sure, but better than wetting his pants, wasn’t it?

  Finally, an alarm rang, and over the intercom system, an officer spoke of a one-hour intermission.

  It was time to get up and move around.

  Robotically, Father Wolf took the container and emptied it into the toilet unit, flushing it. Then he went back to his desk and took out a weapon. It was a small handgun with large-caliber slugs. An old-fashioned chemical reaction, gunpowder, would spew the slugs. These were heavy slugs, and he had practiced in the past, three years ago. He only had a few shots, though.

  Father Wolf tucked the short, bulky gun under his belt, put on a uniform coat, and started through the corridors. Some of the people he passed along the way nodded to him. Others turned away from him. He had reported those before. He had lost friends. In fact, Father Wolf was something of a loner among the crew. Had those who implanted these auto-commands in him known that would happen? It was hard to tell.

  He made his way into command territory. He was here often in order to give his reports. Those had been with Sardu. He now avoided the man’s hatch and continued until he reached Marshal Baal’s hatch.

  Conflicting thoughts warred in Father Wolf’s heart. The compulsion soon overcame his alcoholic fog. He knocked.

  “Yes?” Baal asked through an intercom system.

  “This is urgent, sir,” Father Wolf said. “I need a word with you.”

  “Very well,” Baal said.

  A lock snicked.

  Father Wolf entered the quarters, twice the size of his. It seemed grossly unfair.

  Baal turned around as he sat at his desk. “How can I help you, Father?”

  Father Wolf withdrew the pistol from his belt and aimed it at Baal.

  Baal’s eyes widened and his face grew pale. “What is the meaning of—?”

  Father Wolf pulled the trigger three times, so the bulky little gun barked three times. Each slug burrowed into Marshal Baal’s flesh, with one piercing his heart. The leader of the fleet collapsed, falling back.

  Father Wolf then turned on his heel, exited the room, and headed for Sardu’s quarters. He was panting, with perspiration running down his face. He felt sick, like he was going to throw up. He had just killed…

  The auto-commands kicked in again. Father Wolf knocked at the hatch of Sardu’s quarters. There was no answer. He knocked again, harder.

  “Enter,” came the muffled response.

  Father Wolf did just that.

  Sardu lay in his bed and rolled over to look at him. There was no communication. Old, canny Sardu must have understood. As Sardu scrambled for something under his pillow, Father Wolf extended his arms, held the pistol with both hands, and emptied the chambers into the body.

  The gunshots earlier must have given him away. The hatch opened again and a big Valiant stood behind him. Father Wolf turned as if to explain. The Valiant struck him with a chop to the base of the neck.

  Father Wolf collapsed. That was the last part of the autosuggestion. A device implanted beside his heart now sparked with amazing force.

  Father Wolf jerked, spasmed and perished during a vicious heart attack, vaguely understanding that there would be no more beer for him ever again.

  -13-

  They did not begin braking maneuvers immediately afterward.

  Soon, Naram Sin learned of the murders. He informed the other ships that there was a malfunction, and they needed to delay deceleration to investigate.

  Naram Sin then studied Father Wolf’s corpse in Sardu’s quarters. He considered the two slain and knew Assur had to be behind it. How had the Chief Marshal done this, though?

  Naram Sin thought back to the message from Titan. Afterward, he called the medics, had them take the corpse to medical, and perform an autopsy on Father Wolf. Surprisingly, they found the device that had sparked the heart attack. The chief medic reported this to Naram Sin.

  “You think the device fired up and killed him?” Naram Sin asked.

  “I most certainly do, considering what I saw.”

  “Why did he kill those two?”

  “I have no idea,” the chief medic said. “But he killed them and then this unit went off. It seems that whoever did it wanted those two dead and then killed Father Wolf so we would never learn how it was done.”

  “Interesting,” Naram Sin said.

  Soon, Naram Sin went alone into Father Wolf’s quarters. He searched until he found the earbud. He tested it and found it linked to the main communication board on the bridge.

  That was enough evidence for the Chess Master. He reviewed the communication the Enkidu had received. But no matter how much he studied, he couldn’t figure out how Assur had gotten the message to Father Wolf.

  “What did you get yourself into, Father Wolf?” Naram Sin asked himself later.

  With this, Chief Marshal Assur had removed two pieces from the chessboard. Naram Sin already had a weak hand or board to begin with. Now it was weaker still. There hadn’t been any exchanges. There were just removals of his pieces. Assur was a master of this sort of game. What did that tell Naram Sin about his opponent?

  A little later, Naram Sin stood at a viewing port, gazing at the stars, realizing he was entering a nest of vipers without knowing how to handle it.

  It hit him.

  He’d always known Assur moved according to his own lights. The Chief Marshal struck fast and hard and killed those in his way. That was Assur’s method: to kill and kill again. He had killed to gain his post and had killed mercilessly to keep it. Therefore, Naram Sin was not dealing in a chess game but in a knife fight or maybe a gunfight.

  Naram Sin attempted to be cunning and clever. But really, it was just who could shoot hardest and fastest. Perhaps the best way to greet Assur would be to jump him and snap his neck when they first met.

  No, Assur would expect that. Naram Sin needed something more devious. He had to out-Assur Assur if he was going to survive. Or should he cast himself at Assur’s feet and seek mercy?

  While I am on this ship, I hope I am safe. I must think. I must think more deeply because the game has changed. It isn’t a gentlemanly chess match but something else altogether.

  Even so, in a death match, cunning and logic should still prevail. The key was to learn how to fight and defend himself in this vicious realm of death-match politics.

  This was a wake-up call. Naram Sin was shaken by the events. The question was: could he learn the new, harsh game in time to win it?

  -14-

  NEPTUNE SYSTEM

  As Assur and Naram Sin fought their long-distance duel, strange events took place on Triton, Neptune’s largest moon. Triton is unique among large moons due to its retrograde orbit. That meant it orbited Neptune in the opposite direction as the planet’s rotation. Triton was also geologically active, with geysers of liquid nitrogen and a surface composed of water ice, dry ice, methane ice, and nitrogen ice. While the surface was predominantly icy, there were some rocky elements mixed in, particularly in the form of frozen crust materials and embedded rocks within the ice layers.

  The icy surface lay in perpetual twilight. The distant sun, a mere point of light, barely illuminated the rugged, frozen moonscape with its smooth plains, ridges, and rugged terrain. Triton was a world of extremes, with temperatures plunging to hundreds of degrees below freezing. Geysers of nitrogen periodically erupted from beneath the surface, adding to the eerie desolation.

  Moving across this inhospitable terrain was a Valiant construction robot named Sentinel 9. It moved in a spider-like fashion, its eight articulated legs ending in ice-penetrating claws that allowed it to cross the uneven ground. As it moved, the robot scanned the surface with an array of sensors.

  Sentinel 9 was part of a larger team of robots left behind by the Voyager Akkad, which had reached the Titan colony some time earlier. The robots’ mission was to find and log mines on Triton, assessing the viability of the remote moon for resource extraction. Sentinel 9’s specific task was to explore and evaluate geological formations, mapping the subsurface for valuable minerals.

  Today, Sentinel 9’s sensors detected an unusual thermal anomaly beneath a layer of ice, suggesting a cavernous structure below. Intrigued, the AI directed the robot toward the source of the anomaly.

  The moonscape around the anomaly was even more rugged, with ice cliffs and deep fissures. Sentinel 9 approached cautiously. The anomaly was located beneath a thick ice sheet.

  Working down a crevasse, Sentinel 9 deployed its thermal drill, boring into the ice with a high-pitched whine, melting and cutting through the layers.

  As the ice gave way, a hidden cave entrance was revealed, shrouded in darkness. Sentinel 9’s floodlights activated, piercing the gloom. After AI analysis, the robot descended into the cave, its legs adapting to the rocky areas.

  The cave walls were smooth, almost polished, hinting at geological activity or perhaps something more. Inside the cave, Sentinel 9’s sensors detected an unexpected object. The AI analyzed the readings, identifying metallic components and a large, irregular shape. The robot advanced, its lights reflecting off a long-buried vehicle partially encased in ice. The vehicle was unlike anything in the robot’s databanks, possibly an ancient relic from a time long past or a modern, unknown intruder.