“Food, water,” Naram Sin said.

  “We’re following a strict regimen,” the chief medic said. “That will have to wait.”

  “Yes, yes, follow the regimen by all means. But no, Naram Sin,” Assur said, looking down at the giant on the table, “we need to speak soon. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” Naram Sin said. “Thank you, thank you, Chief Marshal.”

  Assur looked around at the others. “Did you hear that? This is a grateful Valiant. He does not presume importance but rather is thankful. You are most welcome, Naram Sin. Now recover quickly. I will wait for several more hours. I want to talk to you and you alone.”

  “Yes, everything is—” Naram Sin coughed, his throat so terribly sore. His mind—a blinding headache struck. He groaned as if thunder pounded in his mind.

  “Everyone, out,” the chief medic said.

  “Do you dare to mean me?” Assur said.

  “Sir, I do not presume, but may I request that you leave so that we can give him our full attention?”

  “Yes,” Assur said. “Revive Naram Sin fully. He must be functional, and soon. Do you understand me?”

  “We do, Chief Marshal. We will do everything in our power to revive him.”

  “And I,” Assur said, “shall pray to An’Kar that he provide healing for our young Valiant.”

  With that, Assur turned, taking the others with him. The medical people remained to do their utmost for the weakened Naram Sin.

  -16-

  The medical personnel brought Naram Sin around, with the headache gone. His heart and respiratory systems had been faltering. Now, they had stabilized.

  Coming out of stasis had been a precarious situation. Naram Sin had been under for seventeen long months. That had acclimated his body with the process. It was not the same, however, as when old Sargon had gone under, and the humans had tried to bring him up.

  Naram Sin felt revived, ate, drank and went to an exercise chamber. At first, his joints ached. Then he started to feel better. As his heart pounded, he breathed heavily and began to sweat. Later, he drank copious amounts of water. Finally, after several hours, he took a long piss. It felt as if he rid his body of countless poisons. He donned his uniform, after being informed that Chief Marshal Assur wished to speak to him at one of the viewing ports.

  Naram Sin walked until he saw the bodyguards turn and stare at him.

  One spoke to Assur. Assur did not turn around but nodded slowly, like an ancient. He was seated at the viewing port.

  Naram Sin joined him, sitting on a different chair, viewing the blue-green Earth.

  “It’s beautiful,” Assur said, pointing at the Earth.

  “Yes,” Naram Sin said.

  “A pity,” Assur said a moment later.

  “Sir?”

  Assur shook his head. “A pity we have to annihilate the entire human race.”

  “Do we, sir?” Naram Sin asked.

  Assur turned his head slowly, like an ancient. “You know we do. You yourself gave me the pronouncements, the numbers, the calculus. If we do not, then everything we have done up to this point is for naught. The Earthers will submerge the Valiants in a sea of inferiority. We can never let that happen. The long journey from our homeworld has transformed us into a stronger, tougher, better people.”

  “Certainly bigger,” Naram Sin said.

  “I would say smarter as well,” Assur said. “Can we let such a marvel of Valiant bioengineering go to waste?”

  “I heard it was someone named Rim Sin who brought about the change.”

  “I know about Rim Sin. My mother used to talk about him.” A pained look crossed Assur’s face. He fell silent, staring at the Earth. “I won’t be around to see the glories of our people.”

  “Sir, why did you wake me?”

  Assur smiled but did not turn to look at Naram Sin. “You know why. Many around me are fools, but you are no fool, Chess Master. You are the brilliant one. You nearly defeated me, coming within a hair’s breadth of success. That was masterful play on Titan when you came back. I could hardly have done better myself.”

  “You did much better,” Naram Sin said. “You bested me. I’m no longer accustomed to others defeating me.”

  Now Assur looked at him. He indeed looked bent and old, his face drawn. “You can see that I’m dying, can’t you?”

  “Yes,” Naram Sin said.

  “Will you mourn my passing?”

  “I will,” Naram Sin said, using all his skill to make the lie believable. He tried to project truthfulness. For once, it worked. Maybe it was Assur’s old age; he was losing some of his former cunning.

  “Ah, you really will,” Assur said. “That cements my decision. You’re the one to take over after me. I have debated and thought. The Marshal of the Enkidu is an incompetent in the end. He has made too many mistakes throughout the voyage. I do not trust him. He belongs to your camp of followers. Perhaps that will stain you, but I am taking him with me to the Marduk. You will be in charge, placed amongst a swirling group of ambitious Valiants. They lack your cunning, Naram Sin…”

  Assur fell silent, frowning. He drew a deep breath, staring into Naram Sin’s eyes. “You must complete the destruction of humanity. They must be wiped out. It’s possible to let a few million live as servants and workers. But you can only allow that if you castrate them first. That way, humanity will die out with their generation. We have inherited their star system.” Assur smiled faintly. “There is some reason to believe our people may have originated in this star system.”

  “How can this be?” Naram Sin asked.

  “It is a secret I will grant you in my last will and testament. You must read it and use it upon my passing.”

  “No hint, sir, as to how you discovered this amazing fact?”

  “Do not get overbold yet, Naram Sin. I will run this battle and fleet. We will annihilate—” Assur raised his fist and shook it. “We will annihilate them! Do you understand me? You must not show the humans mercy. If some accident fells me, I demand you swear on An’Kar to slaughter the humans.”

  “I do swear by An’Kar,” Naram Sin said.

  Assur appeared to ponder that. “Swear also on your love of chess.”

  “By my love of chess,” Naram Sin said, “I swear to annihilate the humans.”

  Did Naram Sin really mean that? The young giant did not shrug. He would decide that when the moment came. For now, he acted genuine. He did not want to go under in stasis again. He never wanted that. It was a living death. He might never have revived. Now, he would cling to life. Assur was giving him command of the Enkidu. He would run it all right. He would not make the mistakes he had when facing Assur at the spaceport. He would first find loyal bodyguards, just as Assur had done. He would train the bodyguards to kill on command. He was going to rule… maybe even longer than Assur had.

  “What is your secret to longevity?” Naram Sin asked, curious.

  Assur shook his head. “I don’t remember if I put that in my last will and testament. It is my secret, one of my great powers. How I acquired it… that is for another day,” Assur said as he waggled an index finger. “We will speak now of dispositions, of possibilities.”

  For a time, Assur spoke until he became hoarse, outlining how they would initiate and drive home the attack. “Now, with your Chess Master mind, what flaws do you see in what I’ve said?”

  Naram Sin stared out the viewing port at the blue-green Earth. He considered carefully, reviewing in his mind what Assur had said.

  “I see two problems you may not have considered in great enough depth.”

  “Pray tell me what those are,” Assur said.

  “One, the Earthers love to use surprises,” Naram Sin said. “They love decoys and love to attack out of the black as if nothing’s there, but something is there.”

  “Yes, true,” Assur said.

  “Therefore, we must scan with greater diligence and we must be suspicious of everything we find. The Earthers may be trying to decoy us in one way as they attack from another quarter.”

  “They are devious little bastards, aren’t they?” Assur said.

  “Yes,” Naram Sin said, deciding he would agree with the Chief Marshal to the best of his ability.

  “What is the other thing?” Assur asked.

  “Their space marines were successful in the Neptune system,” Naram Sin said. “Therefore, we must be ready for a repeat of that type of boarding assault.”

  “It’s so risky on their part,” Assur said. “There are better ways to utilize space marines.”

  “Maybe so,” Naram Sin said. “But the Earthers were successful with the tactic once. Therefore, I expect it again, for they love to repeat what works.”

  Assur yawned, “I’m tired. I must return to the Marduk. You now run the Enkidu. I’ve said that over the intercom while you were resting. Naram Sin, I wish you luck.”

  Assur placed a cold hand on one of Naram Sin’s wrists. “Make the Valiant people proud. I am the father of this great nation, but I give you the burden of making sure we succeed with great vibrancy once I’m gone.”

  “I shall do as you say, Chief Marshal Assur, to the utmost of my ability.”

  Assur squeezed Naram Sin’s wrist with pitiful strength. “Good. Now I must leave. Guards!” Assur barked in a commanding voice.

  It told Naram Sin that even though the old man was weakening, he was far from gone. Naram Sin would bide his time.

  As Assur rose and left with his guards, Naram Sin looked at the blue-green planet. Who would rule the Earth after this battle? Would any of humanity be alive? The odds were stacked for Earther annihilation.

  Naram Sin grunted as he stood. He had much to do to cement his command of the Enkidu. It was time to begin.

  -17-

  With the enemy Enforcers two weeks out from Earth and braking hard, the command in the orbital stations prepared for one of the main deception maneuvers. In the control rooms of OS Aphrodite, engineers and military strategists prepared for the deployment.

  Outside, massive balloons with rigid reinforcement bands along the outer skins were prepared. These were decoys designed to mimic the imposing presence of 100,000-ton Orion ships. As technicians double-checked the equipment, the atmosphere in the Control room was charged with tension.

  Once inflated, each balloon presented a silhouette strikingly similar to that of an Orion ship. The outer skin was composed of a composite material, giving them the necessary rigidity to withstand the vacuum of space and, it was hoped, fool teleoptic scrutiny by the enemy. The reinforcement bands crisscrossed the surface, creating a framework that ensured the balloons maintained their shape even under harsh conditions.

  Small ion engines were affixed to the sides of each balloon. These provided the necessary thrust to maneuver the decoys into position beyond the Moon. As the first balloon neared the end of its journey, an array of instruments inside hummed to life. Technicians on Aphrodite monitored the readouts, confirming that the instruments were performing within the expected parameters.

  The balloons were not just empty shells but setups designed to fool enemy sensors. Signal emitters, receivers, thermal generators, and radar reflectors were all calibrated to simulate the operational signatures of an Orion ship. These decoys were the result of months of research and countless hours of fine-tuning.

  The thermal generators created heat signatures mimicking the output of nuclear pulse propulsion. By carefully modulating the outputs, the decoys could replicate the telltale thermal variations of a ship accelerating. Radar reflectors were configured to bounce back signals to fool enemy radars into reading the decoys as massive metal constructs rather than lightweight balloons.

  The signal emitters were the most critical components. These broadcasted a range of electromagnetic signatures consistent with a real Orion ship. Communications chatter, engine noise, and even the electromagnetic fluctuations caused by the ship’s systems were simulated in detail. The decoys also periodically emitted bursts of ionized particles, mimicking the exhaust from a nuclear pulse drive, further enhancing the illusion. These signals were engineered to replicate the complexities and nuances of genuine Orion communications, complete with intermittent bursts of encrypted data.

  The four balloons slowly moved into position two million kilometers beyond the far side of the Moon.

  Another four decoys ventured further out to provide an additional layer of deception, creating the illusion of a dispersed and strategically positioned defense force. This line of decoys was meant to suggest a broader, more complex defensive strategy, forcing the enemy to spread their focus.

  The decoys were not passive in their deception. They sent out electronic signals designed to confuse and mislead. Frequency jammers interfered with enemy communications, while false telemetry broadcasts cluttered enemy data streams.

  High-resolution cameras aboard the enemy ships would be scrutinizing every detail. To counter this, the outer surfaces of the balloons were covered with high-fidelity images and textures that mimicked the appearance of an Orion ship’s hull. From a distance, these details should present a convincing facade. Even the light reflections and shadows were calculated to match those of a solid metal hull. This attention to detail extended to the smallest rivets and panels, ensuring that the deception held up under scrutiny.

  As the decoys settled into their positions, coordinated movements were pre-programmed into their control systems, ensuring that the decoys would perform maneuvers consistent with those of a fleet preparing for battle. These pre-programmed actions included simulated evasive maneuvers, formation shifts, and even mock combat drills.

  In Control Central on OS Aphrodite, operators monitored everything. Large displays showed real-time telemetry, sensor data, and the relative positions of the decoys.

  Every decision mattered, and the success of the deception hinged on flawless execution of the plan. As the decoys waited, the operators on OS Aphrodite watched, hoping their efforts would buy Earth the time it desperately needed.

  -18-

  Six million kilometers from the Moon, the six Enforcers glided through space, their hulls barely reflecting the distant starlight. For days, the bridge crews had been monitoring the objects deployed by Earth, their sensors scanning for any sign of a trap. The officers aboard the Marduk were divided in their opinions about the nature of these objects. For one thing, there had only been seven Orion ships earlier.

  Three of those had come out earlier and retreated behind the Moon. So far, the sensors teams could find no reason why the three Orion ships had done this. Now, there was this new development.

  According to the sensors, there were eight Orion ships waiting. When had the Earthers built the eighth Orion ship, and why did the enemy place the fleet of them so far on this side of the Moon? It made no tactical or strategic sense.

  “Chief Marshal, I think those supposed Orion ships are decoys,” Sub-Marshal Harven said. He was a muscled officer with thick dark hair. “They don’t match the thermal profiles of any known Earth warship. They’re too light, too—”

  “Uncertain data doesn’t mean we can dismiss them,” Assur said, his wan gaze fixed on the main screen. “We need to treat every anomaly as a potential threat.”

  The bridge was tense as officers whispered together. Many cast nervous glances at the readouts, the hum of machinery and the soft beeping of instruments the only other sounds.

  Harven frowned. If he had a response to the Chief Marshal, he wasn’t making it.

  “Tactical,” Assur said, “prepare to engage.”

  The command went to the other Enforcers as well.

  Soon, missile bays hummed to life. With a mechanical whir, huge missiles slid out of the ships until far enough away from the Enforcers. At that point, they ignited, their engines flaring as they streaked away, heading toward their targets.

  Inside the Marduk, eyes were glued to the displays, watching the trajectories. Even at these velocities, it took hours for the missiles to reach the objects. The waiting was agonizing. Why didn’t the objects launch counter missiles or do something other than shift around? The officers monitored the data, analyzing the information.

  Even as the missiles closed, the objects refused to use any defensive countermeasures other than EW jamming. Then the first object exploded in a flash as the missile struck. Debris scattered into the void, shattering the illusion of an Orion warship. The explosion was captured in high-definition by the Marduk’s teleoptics, a blinding burst followed by almost no fragments.

  Usually, the destruction would have brought cheers. This was too odd. Why had there been almost no debris from the hit? What could that mean?

  Assur brooded, continuing to watch the displays.

  The other missiles found their marks soon thereafter. Those couldn’t be Orion ships.

  “The lack of debris is troubling,” Harven said.

  “We know those weren’t Orion ships,” Assur said.

  “I concur, sir,” Harven said, perhaps deciding not to say, “I told you so.”

  It took longer, but the next wave of missiles reached the objects closer to the Moon. Could these be the real Orion ships? Then why didn’t they launch missiles or fire their railguns?

  The missiles struck and the objects disappeared. That meant—

  “They were decoys,” Harven said. “We’ve wasted our missiles on decoys.”

  Assur nodded, with his expression grim. “We had to be sure. So the missiles weren’t a complete waste.”

  Harven grunted with frustration, possibly unsure how to rebut that.

  Assur squinted at him. “There is a greater problem or question than the missiles we expended. Why did the humans bother with the deception? What did this gain them other than a little more time? In the past, the humans did not make useless maneuvers. Thus, there is something we’re not seeing.”