Paul kept hitting.

  The door opened behind Fredrickson. The big man flopped back and down onto the carpet to a startled lady, probably his wife. Her hair was in curlers and she wore a pink dress. She’d opened the door, and she was okay looking, too, not a hag that a husband needed to cheat on her.

  “That your husband?” Paul said, breathing hard.

  Her head snapped up so she stared at him.

  Paul’s fists were bloody. So was his mouth, because Fredrickson had gotten in some licks himself.

  “What are you doing, you horrible man?” she said.

  “Tell Harry that if he sees my wife again, I’ll kill him,” Paul said.

  “What?” she said, aghast.

  Fredrickson groaned from on the floor.

  “Harry has been seeing your wife?” the woman asked.

  “He admitted it,” Paul said. “You tell him what I said.”

  She looked down at Fredrickson, and that was the last Paul thought about it.

  Paul pivoted and marched away. The beating had felt really good. He was still breathing heavily as from after a tough basketball game. Now it was time to see what Shelly had to say about all this.

  -34-

  Paul sat at the kitchen table, his gaze fixed on his wife—beautiful yet unfaithful.

  “Your knuckles are all bloody,” Shelly said. She sat across from him, her long fingers moving a coffee cup in its saucer. She’d already caused some of the coffee to slosh over the cup’s rim into the saucer.

  Paul raised his hands, displaying his bloody knuckles like trophies. “I did that while beating the crap out of Harry Fredrickson.”

  Shelly stared at him. She didn’t yell. She didn’t start screaming or doing anything. But her shoulders slumped.

  “Harry’s size alone should have made it impossible for you to beat him,” she said.

  “I did it anyway,” Paul said. “You’re married to me. Why do you want to leave, Shelly?”

  “What,” she demanded, anger rising, “are you going to hit me too?”

  “Never,” Paul said. His heart ached that she could think that way. How was it possible his wife could think he’d lay a hand on her? That was insane. “Never,” he said again, “not in a thousand years.”

  “I know,” Shelly conceded, her anger fading as quickly as it had flared. “You have a temper, and I know you’re a warrior. I accept all that. But Paul, I can’t live like this anymore. I can’t live separate from you. I need my husband at home.”

  “Did you sleep with Fredrickson?” Paul said.

  Shelly shook her head, not looking at him.

  Paul said nothing, wondering if she was telling him the truth, or just what he wanted to hear. How could he know?

  Shelly turned the cup again. “Not yet. Not yet, I swear. I’m telling you the truth.”

  “Did he try?”

  “Yes,” Shelly said, barely glancing at him, “but I told him I couldn’t yet. I called you that night to tell you I wanted a divorce. I had to find out what you thought.”

  “All right,” Paul said, sensing a glimmer of hope for reconciliation. He believed Fredrickson hadn’t screwed his wife. That was important, very important.

  “I beat him good,” Paul said. “If Fredrickson comes around again, I’m going to kill him. Do you hear me, Shelly? I will kill him. I will not let him lay a finger on you, whether you allow it or not.”

  “I know,” she whispered.

  Then, this man of war, this man who had sat in a cockpit ready to launch nukes at communist bombers, he found that his throat constricted. He found that he could barely force the words up. He felt tears rise in his eyes. Paul Steele hated that. He hated any show of weakness. He was from a long line of warriors, of soldiers, of men of valor. Why then did this question clench at him so?

  “Shelly,” Paul said hoarsely.

  She was staring at him. There were tears in her eyes. She even brought up a handkerchief and blew her nose. She dabbed at her nose afterward.

  Paul found that he’d balled his hands into fists. They were shaking and his fingers hurt. This was so hard. This was so desperately hard to say. But he forced himself to speak anyway.

  “Shelly, do you really want a divorce?”

  When Paul said that, his voice cracked. That made him so angry that he closed his eyes. When he opened them, Shelly was standing beside him. He felt her hands on his head, pressing his face against her stomach. She was sobbing.

  “No, Paul. No, I don’t want a divorce. I want you to love me forever. I want you to be beside me. But this being apart, I just can’t take it anymore. It’s too much. I’m so sorry for even messing around the way I did. I swear to you, I did not sleep with him. Seeing how bloody your knuckles are, you beat him good.”

  Waves of relief were flooding through Paul.

  “Oh, Paul, I wish you would stay. I wish you would stay and be with me all my life.”

  “Children,” he said.

  “I want many children, Paul—yours and only yours.”

  Paul pushed his head against her hands on his head and looked up. Tears were streaming down her face. He felt tears on his own face. He wiped them away savagely. He stood up and turned away from her. He could feel her small hands on his shoulders.

  “Paul, Paul.”

  He disengaged gently, facing her, and held her tight. Then he kissed her face and kissed her tears.

  “Darling,” he said, “I’ll resign my commission. I’m done with the Air Force. I’m not going to lose you. I’m not going to lose my family.”

  “But, but,” she said, “you’re a pilot. You’re one of the best.”

  “I’ll follow my grandfather’s way. I’ll become a cop if I have to. That way at least I get to carry a gun.”

  “But what if Harry decides to press charges against you?”

  “We’ll worry about that when and if it happens. Fredrickson asked if I was a private eye. He didn’t say it that way. But if that’s what it takes, I’ll do that for work. You’re going to be beside me, love, as far as I can help it. We’re not going to be apart anymore.”

  Paul knew that was the right decision because thinking that she had left him, he’d gotten himself good and drunk. He’d almost started World War III with a nuclear attack against Russki bombers.

  The bombers tested America’s airspace and resolve. It was a game the two sides played. The U.S. did the same to the Soviet Union. So, in one way, it was no big deal. But to lose his wife, this girl, this one God had given him, yeah, he would kill any man that came between him and his wife.

  What did it say in the Good Book? That if a thief stole, he could repay triple or whatever, and get out of it. But if a man took another man’s wife, there wasn’t any payment he could give. The allusion was the cheater would have to pay with his life.

  Fredrickson had tasted some of that. The big man was lucky he hadn’t slept with his dear Shelly.

  Thus, unlike his ancestors, Paul Steele was going to resign his commission. He was going to live with his wife and raise a family. He decided that, in the end, keeping the Steele line alive was more important than anything else.

  ***

  Author’s Note: According to Wikipedia, a Genie missile was detonated only once, in Operation Plumbbob on 19 July 1957. USAF Captain Eric William Hutchison launched the Genie over Yucca Flats in the Nevada Test Site. The nuclear blast occurred between 18,500 to 20,000 feet above mean sea level.

  A group of five USAF officers volunteered to stand uncovered in their light summer uniforms underneath the blast to prove that the weapon was safe for use over populated areas. Gamma and neutron doses received by observers on the ground proved negligible, or so the report read.

  -35-

  3.04 LIGHT YEARS FROM EARTH

  16 YEARS AGO

  Ningal walked as fast as she dared. The Chief Marshal had summoned her for some critical purpose. He’d almost sounded frightened. Thus, she was hurrying.

  For some reason, as Ningal hurried, she recalled the day her son had taken authority of the Akkad. That had been so long ago, a little over one hundred and twenty years, in fact.

  Ningal shivered in what she conceived as superstitious dread. Had it really been that long? Despite the extended passage of time, little had happened since then in terms of ship upheavals and reversals. Assur had taken charge and instituted carefully thought out ship procedures. Perhaps the most monumental change had been assigning supernatural causes to her and his remaining younger than anyone else, and basing his authority on that.

  Because of the People’s growing religious beliefs, the gods of the old star system had solidified hers and Assur’s hold on power. Perhaps, about fifty years ago, when the adults of the older generation passed away, the newer generation began to regard them with even greater superstitious awe.

  Each year, that awe grew, as did their hold on ship authority.

  An interesting facet concerning the immortality serum was that Assur had never offered it to any of his wives. He’d let each of them age—he only had one at a time—and then retired the old wife, taking a newer and younger woman as wife.

  In other words, Ningal and her son Assur had been the only recipients of the fantastic serum. What would Rim-Sin have thought of that?

  Ningal shook her head. She wasn’t sure.

  Unfortunately, during the past several years, she’d begun to detect signs of aging in herself. At one point, that might have bothered her. These days…

  Have I lived too long? Am I becoming tired of life?

  It was funny now that Ningal thought about it, but in all that time, she’d never really considered thawing out her grandfather. Sargon yet lived according to the stasis unit controls. Would her grandfather still lie frozen after the Akkad arrived in the new star system?

  Ningal looked around, realizing she’d reached the bridge hatch.

  VPC enforcers came rigidly to attention. The blue-tinged Valiants were big and clear-eyed. Ningal wasn’t sure, but Valiants seemed to have grown in stature since the first group so very long ago.

  Former Chief Marshal Enki would have been able to tell immediately if that was so or not.

  Ningal smiled thinking about her second husband. He had been a vain and arrogant Valiant, but he’d been quite competent despite all that.

  The hatch opened.

  Ningal squared her shoulders and walked sedately onto the bridge as befitted the Old Mother of the ship.

  “All rise,” a deck VPC said.

  Everyone, including the Chief Marshal, rose from his station and bowed at the waist before her. None would look directly at her. This was so different from her early days with the Valiants.

  “Old Mother,” Chief Marshal Assur said. “Thank you for coming.”

  Ningal inclined her head. She no longer minded the title. She deserved it. She was so much older than anyone else. And she was the mother of the Akkad. That was true, as she guarded the People by helping to keep order.

  “Could I ask you to come into my special chamber?” Assur said.

  “Of course, dear boy,” Ningal said.

  Assur looked so good in his black uniform. However, despite all the treatments, he had white hair and beginning facial lines around the edges of his eyes. He would never let himself grow a potbelly as his father had done. Instead, Assur was trim and efficient, the greatest Chief Marshal the Akkad had ever known.

  Assur headed toward a side hatch. It opened and he preceded her in.

  The chamber was much smaller than the bridge, with a desk and several screens, and couches to the side.

  Assur stepped behind his desk and sat down.

  Ningal sank onto a couch.

  The hatch shut, leaving them alone, cut off from the bridge crew.

  Ningal watched as Assur folded his hands on the desk. He only did that when he was troubled. That was so seldom these days.

  “Is there a problem?” Ningal asked.

  “Yes,” Assur said, with his pretense dropping as he stared right at her.

  “Is it unrest on the ship?”

  “No. Nothing like that,” Assur said. “The problem is outside the ship.”

  “Have the Vim missiles accelerated at us?” Everyone feared that happening.

  “No, no,” Assur said. “I mean in the opposite direction.”

  It took Ningal a moment to realize he was referring to the approaching star system—the one where the Akkad would arrive and establish orbit.

  “I don’t understand,” Ningal said.

  “We’ve discovered the star system is inhabited by a technologically sophisticated alien race.”

  Ningal stared at Assur for several seconds before the import of his words penetrated her thoughts.

  “Aliens live there?” Ningal asked.

  “Precisely,” Assur said.

  “How do you know this?”

  Assur inhaled through his nostrils. “I’ve had the technicians studying the star system for some time. We’ve mapped out the planets and their orbits around the star. Our targeted gas giant is the ringed one. It will be closest in position to us once we come to a stop there.”

  “How far will the Vim missiles be behind us at that point, and what implications does that distance have for our safety?”

  “Days only,” Assur said.

  “We’re cutting it that close? That seems like a dangerously narrow margin for error?”

  “I have an idea about that. We may only have to face one missile.”

  “This is news,” Ningal said. “What is the process?”

  Assur inhaled deeply through his nostrils. He kept his fingers interlaced as he leaned toward her.

  “I’ll get to that in a moment. For now, I want to concentrate on the nearing star system. My Chief Technologist hit upon the idea of searching the system for radio waves.”

  “Did you have reason to think the system inhabited?” Ningal asked.

  “An old legend,” Assur said.

  “What legend?”

  “That this part of the spiral arm was seeded in the past by…by those like us.”

  “I don’t understand,” Ningal said.

  “There is a legend that we did not originate in the old star system. Our ancestors were immigrants to it.”

  Ningal sat back, thinking. “I may have heard that before. So this testing was a precaution?”

  “It seemed like a wise idea.”

  Ningal nodded. “Yes. I quite agree. What did the Chief Technologist find?”

  Assur cleared his throat. “I’m getting to that. The CT and his team tested various frequencies for months. Three days ago, he found something other than stellar static. Through swift work, he discovered words, alien words. They were faint to be sure. The team focused the antennas so the alien radio signals strengthened. There’s no doubt about it, Mother. Aliens thrive on the third terrestrial planet at the star system. Are they like us as the legend might suggest? Are they warlike or peaceful?”

  Assur shrugged.

  “You don’t know?” Ningal asked.

  “My technicians have no idea. Fortunately, they should gain more information as we continue closer to the system. I’ll have scientists working on the alien language, seeing if they can crack it and understand what they’re saying.”

  “Dare we arrive in the star system if it’s occupied?” Ningal asked.

  Assur snorted. “At this point, we have no choice. My analysts have proven that our society will not last another hundred years while aboard the Akkad. There are already serious if hidden cracks in the social fabric and we’re badly running out of supplies. We must stop at the star system or perish.”

  “I’ve seen no signs of social disintegration,” Ningal said.

  Assur shook his head. “Have no doubt, Mother. The signs are growing and already in abundance. I’m not going to go into detail concerning them. Sufficient to the point, it’s true. We’re going to arrive in the star system because we must. However, we’re not going to head straight to the third planet. That’s even though we know it could easily sustain us, as the planet seems perfect for our kind. Instead, we must scout out the aliens and determine if we can defeat them or not. That might entail a system-wide space war.”

  “Or we could make friends with the aliens,” Ningal said. “That might be possible if they’re like us.”

  Assur smiled wanly. “I’m surprised at you. Two alien species cannot live in harmony in one star system. If the Vims have taught us anything, that is it. If the aliens are weak, we shall conquer and possibly exterminate them.”

  “And if the aliens are too strong for us?”

  Assur shook his head. “Here’s a comforting point. We’re approaching their star system. They are not approaching ours. The only radio signals are from the third planet. It’s possible the aliens do not yet have space flight capabilities. That will make conquering them easier.”

  “But a world,” Ningal said. “Do you think you can conquer an entire world?”

  “The star system is a worthy prize,” Assur said. “We must conquer the aliens and ready ourselves for the eventual arrival of the Vims.”

  “You’re not just talking about the two missiles?”

  “No,” Assur said. “We must grab the star system and build an impenetrable fortress that will be able to withstand the Vims for the next several hundred years. After that, I’m hoping the Valiants can go on the offensive, as my father would have planned. In the end, we must conquer the Vims or they will conquer and exterminate us.”

  “You mean like Rim-Sin planned,” Ningal said.

  “What are you saying?” Assur asked sharply.

  After a moment of thought, Ningal shook her head. “It’s nothing. Please, continue.”

  “News of the aliens in the star system might shake ship morale,” Assur said. “We have two Vim missiles bearing down on us. Keeping the People from panicking is hard enough. Until we destroy one of the missiles, I want to keep knowledge of the new aliens to just a select few.”

  Ningal had her doubts about how wise that was. Keeping secrets of that nature and portent was difficult. Then it occurred to her what he’d said at the end.

  “How can we destroy one of the missiles?” Ningal asked. “There are no intervening nebulas for us to use.”