Sharma cocked her head. “It seems you are attempting to flatter me, but it is clear you are half delirious. I’m not even sure you know what you’re saying. We shall talk again after the conference.”

  “Good luck to you. Till I see you again,” Bain said.

  “Till then,” Colonel Sharma said. “May Kali rise in power.” Afterward, the colonel pivoted and marched out the door.

  Bain crashed lengthwise onto his bed. His head thumped onto the pillow. He felt the gun beneath him. He was beyond caring. Yeah, he needed to whiz, but right now, he was so tired.

  Colonel Sharma was going in his place. How would that hurt him with the Director? Bain didn’t know, and at this point, he didn’t care.

  Thus, Senior General Tom Bain closed his eyes, not realizing that he had just given himself an extension of life, and some would wonder how he’d been wise enough to escape going to the Greenland Conference.

  -6-

  All the Earth orbital stations had a similar design: a long cylinder in the center with a large wheel connected by spokes to it. This cylinder and wheel rotated to create pseudo-gravity using the same principle as a child twirling a water bucket. These stations were all in low Earth orbit.

  On Orbital Station Aphrodite, one of the largest and most complex, there was a small room containing the second most important person in orbital space. His name was Dr. Manfred A.S. Huber. He was short, barely four feet tall. He had a large head, proportionate to a normal-sized person, and in it resided the highest IQ in orbital space. He was a polymath, a genius in various areas. He had long, stringy, hippie hair, and wore an old-style overall with sandals, making him look like a throwback to the 1960s.

  Dr. Huber was in his 50s and had become a little pudgy over the last few months. He had been eating more and exercising less, possibly because the great threat that the Valiants had posed to Luna, and thereby Earth, was presently attempting a gravity assist around Jupiter.

  Earth had pulled a draw against the Valiants. The Valiants had left because their mass drivers were destroyed. Therefore, the Moon base, as such, had been of no use to them.

  While the Valiants had made the correct strategic decision to leave the Moon, it had hurt them. The reason was that it gave the Earth time. Could the Valiants turn that around in their favor?

  Dr. Huber was not considering that particular problem now. Instead, he was contemplating the Greenland Conference that was coming up in several days. It was a grand peace gesture on Livia’s part. It reminded him of the Madagascar Conference from many years ago.

  Colonel Mike Steele had been alive then. He was the father of John Steele, the space marine. Young Steele and a sergeant had placed a nuclear bomb on the dark side of the Moon that destroyed the critical auxiliary vessel. That had destroyed the alien mass drivers. It had been critical to the war effort.

  In the past few days, young Steele had gone down to Earth on an elite mission. Huber couldn’t remember what the mission entailed. Instead, he concentrated on the Greenland Conference. Huber was thinking specifically about Director Livia Drusus and her Machiavellian tactics.

  Huber sat on the floor in a corner, drinking a concoction of his own making, a protein drink with too much added sugar. He sipped with his eyes half-lidded, contemplating Livia’s methods, and her actions the last two months. The two did not jibe. Then Huber considered how Livia had gained supreme power. Livia used to be Anwar Gray’s lieutenant. She had even run the Orbital Space Marine Training Facility because she was considered hard-hearted and ruthless enough, a match for Petty.

  Huber took another sip.

  He was putting on weight and didn’t like it. It wouldn’t help him live longer. A short person often had medical problems. Therefore, he had taken a page from Petty’s book, training more than one would expect, given his flaccid muscles.

  That wasn’t the key at this point. Though Huber looked like a hippie, he did not think like one. He pondered, struggled to his feet, set his half-finished drink down, and walked out of his office.

  He went down several corridors, soon reaching a desk where a gorgeous secretary sat in a revealing outfit. She was a beauty, one of Petty’s many favorites.

  “Is the CEO in?” Huber asked.

  “He is, sir, but he is indisposed right now.”

  Huber heard faint sounds coming from the main office behind the closed hatch. He rolled his eyes. They sounded like feminine moans of pleasure.

  “I’ll wait,” Huber said.

  The secretary gave him a knowing nod.

  Huber waited another fifteen minutes. Soon a slightly disheveled secretary, as equally beautiful as the first, left the office without giving Huber so much as a glance.

  The secretary at the desk said into an intercom, “Sir, Dr. Huber is here to see you.”

  “Oh,” Petty said over the intercom, “yes, send him in, send him in.”

  Huber entered through the main hatch, noticing Petty as he put his tie back on while standing before a mirror.

  James Petty was big, blocky, and mostly muscular, even though he was in his sixties. He had iron-colored hair, a jock’s features, and a hardened winner’s scowl.

  The man grinned at Huber, picked up a shot glass, and sipped whiskey from it. “Well, well, well, what can I do for you? I’m in a good mood, as you must realize.”

  “Yes, sir,” Huber said, desperately wanting to avoid the topic. Lately, Petty had been bragging about his amorous conquests. That was the last thing Huber wanted to hear from the CEO. The bragging likely had something to do with Petty’s aging and his diminishing strength compared to five years ago.

  “Forget it,” Petty said. “I see you have something on your mind. Would you like a drink?”

  Huber said he would like a sherry.

  Petty stared at him, finally opened a drawer and pulled out Huber’s special bottle. He filled a small glass, got up, and handed it to him.

  They both moved to chairs to the side.

  “Well?” Petty said, keeping both feet on the floor as he sat. He did that per his custom, not crossing his legs like a fancy boy.

  “The conference is in a few days,” Huber said.

  “Indeed. We’ll soon see whether Livia is going to live up to her word. I’m actually looking forward to it.”

  “I do not think you should go,” Huber blurted.

  “What?” Petty said. “This is a last-minute change. I thought you were all for it.”

  “After deep contemplation, I realized her probable course: assassination.”

  “With all of us there?” Petty asked.

  “How did Anwar Gray die?”

  Petty grunted and turned his head. He set his shot glass to the side, and he cracked his knuckles. “My good mood is vanishing. It will be some time before I can raise it again.”

  Huber was afraid Petty would give him a knowing leer and a wink, but that did not happen.

  Petty concentrated, hunching his head. “You think that is Livia’s plan? You think that is what she is going to do to us?”

  “The possibility exists,” Huber said.

  “But—”

  “I should have seen it sooner.”

  “Livia is in Greenland now,” Petty said. “How can she detonate a nuke if she’s at the conference?”

  “I struggled with that for a time,” Huber said. “Then I realized the duplicity. Is Livia there or a body double?”

  Petty’s eyes widened with astonishment.

  “I do not trust her,” Huber said.

  “Why is the conference at Greenland?” Petty asked.

  “I finally realized it was to allay our fears, so we’ll show up,” Huber said. “It is one of her islands, but far from her power positions. She could ring it with submarines, however.”

  “We have our VDSs.”

  They had seven now, as they had expanded by two more since the Valiants had left the Moon.

  “We can get our people down there fast with the VDSs,” Petty added.

  “And if Livia uses a nuke like she did against Gray, killing everyone there?”

  “A nuke,” Petty said, as if tasting the word. “You mean using the same signature method twice.”

  “People do what works. And what do we know about Livia?”

  Petty scowled. “Why haven’t you said something before this?”

  “Because all indications showed Livia was serious about the peace offer. It is the logical step for us to unite in order to defeat the aliens. Livia may still be serious. The nuclear assassination is merely a possibility. But if she is intent on killing you… I suggest you send down a body double in your place.”

  “But who can look like me?” Petty said.

  “We have that one man.”

  “No. He’s far too skinny, and not quite my height.”

  “Secret platform shoes will help there,” Huber said. “A little padding under his suit will complete the disguise.”

  “Padding?” Petty said, as if tasting a lemon. “If someone finds out about that, people will think I’ve been padding all along. They’ll think I don’t have the muscles I actually do.”

  “Wouldn’t you prefer to keep your life?”

  “I suppose,” Petty said.

  Huber knew the CEO was a vain man. Petty also wanted to win at whatever he did. He wanted to win so much that he would often attempt things others would not do in case they looked silly. Petty cared less about looking silly—other than his muscles—than about winning. Winning was critical to the man’s self-esteem.

  “You’re saying I should send a double down to Greenland?” Petty asked.

  “With a double of me,” Huber said. “Everyone we send should be a double.”

  “We could be sending these doubles to their deaths.”

  Huber nodded. “It may seem heartless, but they knew what they were signing up for when they agreed to be doubles.”

  Petty pursed his lips. “You think Livia would really do something like that?”

  “She did to Anwar Gray. As I’ve been contemplating, I realized she might try that with us.”

  Petty nodded. “This was a gift of insight from your brilliant mind. Why all of a sudden did you see it instead of earlier?”

  Huber began to explain about little things that weren’t adding up. Then he said, “It was also due to the bombing of that mosque in Iran.”

  “You’ve completely lost me,” Petty said.

  “Livia works hard to consolidate even against the JFP.”

  “Do you mean the Jihadist Freedom Party?” Petty asked.

  Huber nodded. “They are far larger than we at first understood. Perhaps they’re larger than Livia realizes.”

  “How could that be? The JFP are right there. They live with Livia.”

  “Because the people joining the JFP are often the lowest ranked,” Huber said, “the disaffected. Ever since the Valiant railgun attacks, Islam has been on the rise in certain areas of the world, particularly Iran, Afghanistan, and the surrounding regions.”

  “Huh.” Petty pointed at Huber. “Send the body-double, although I’ve been looking forward to this.”

  “That’s another thing,” Huber said. “Livia has been far too pleasant lately. That goes against everything we know about her. She’s most pleasant just before she’s the most devious. We’ve almost been outmaneuvered.”

  “Should we warn Chavez about this?” Petty asked.

  “That would be a mistake.”

  “The New World Conglomerate is our ally,” Petty said.

  “I realize that. I also think to defeat the Valiants we must unify the Earth. I’m starting to suspect that means we must rule the Earth.”

  “You and me?” asked Petty.

  “Yes. Just like H and L.”

  “I completely don’t understand what you’re saying.”

  “Hindenburg and Ludendorff,” Huber said. “They were the German Empire’s leading generals during World War I. They soon led the entire empire because their ideas produced the best results. You are Hindenburg, of course, while I’m Ludendorff.”

  “Which of them was first?”

  “Hindenburg, of course,” Huber said.

  “Okay,” Petty said.

  “Ludendorff was the brains,” Huber said, wincing after doing so.

  “You’re saying you’re the brains?” Petty asked.

  Huber just looked at him.

  “Yeah, I guess you are at that,” Petty said. “You’ve done superlative work, my friend. I’m most appreciative. I would not have lasted as long without you.”

  There it was. Petty said such things in order to win. He must think keeping Huber happy helped him win. Thus, he gave the needed compliments. It helped that Petty believed what he was saying.

  “If I’m wrong about all this,” Huber said, “we can still recover from the double incident.”

  “You’re sure about that?”

  “It might prove difficult, but better that we attempt to recover from that than we’re annihilated by a nuke.”

  “I agree.” Petty pointed a blunt finger at Huber. “Get things in motion. I’ll give the okay when needed.”

  Huber stood, nodded, and hurried out. There was a lot to do.

  -7-

  A WEEK EARLIER

  “John,” Dawnstar said. “Why do you have to go? Can’t they find someone else to do this?”

  The kids were asleep, as it was nap time for them on OS Aphrodite. Husband and wife were in the small living room, John was in his silver and black space marine uniform, and his wife Dawnstar was wearing a jumpsuit. He wore boots, which made him taller than usual, as she was barefoot.

  John Steele was in his mid-twenties, on the slight side with a blond buzz cut and intense blue eyes. Dawnstar was slender, with green eyes and her blonde hair in a ponytail. She also had the grace of a gymnast and had once been an intelligence operative for the World Government.

  Dawnstar was actually her maiden name; her first name was Jondelle. John had never called her that, though, but Dawnstar, and it had stuck even after their marriage.

  “You’re not even telling me what this is about,” she complained.

  “I’m supposed to keep it secret.”

  “I’m not going to tell anyone.”

  John looked conflicted, which didn’t happen often. Finally, “I’m going to the Persian Gulf.”

  “What? That’s crazy. Are you inserting from space?”

  “No, no, nothing like that,” he said, hoping she’d drop it.

  Dawnstar glared at him instead.

  “I’m landing by space plane in Australia. I’m taking a submarine to the Gulf.”

  “The Orbital Stations don’t have any submarines,” Dawnstar said.

  He’d expected her to say something else. They had first met on a submarine in the Persian Gulf, where they had been enemies. In fact, John was going on his mission precisely because of the episode earlier.

  “Well?” she said, with her hands on her hips.

  “It’s a New World Conglomerate submarine,” he said.

  Dawnstar nodded. That made sense. The New World Conglomerate had a superior submarine fleet. It was one of the reasons they had been able to pick off so many of the Earth’s islands, taking them away from the World Government.

  “The submarine is going to slip through the Strait of Hormuz?” Dawnstar asked sarcastically. “The World Government will look the other way, right? Are there bribes involved with this?”

  “Everything is planned out.”

  “Oh, I bet it is.”

  He squirmed.

  “Why do you have to go?” Dawnstar asked. “It’s only been a few months since the Moon operation.”

  John nodded. That was true. But since then he had been going stir crazy just sitting around the apartment. He practiced all the time, but it wasn’t the same. He had an itch. He needed activity, the more dangerous the better.

  Maybe the truth was that he wasn’t normal.

  John almost snorted. He was abnormal. He and Dawnstar both knew that. Of course, she was abnormal, too. If she hadn’t been a nursing mother, she could be the agent going on the clandestine mission.

  “I’m going to be all right,” he said.

  “You don’t know that.”

  “You’re right, I don’t. But I need to go.”

  “Did you request this?” Dawnstar asked.

  Should he lie about it? No. He didn’t want to start doing that. “I did request it.”

  She rolled her eyes, her features hardening with anger.

  “Honey…” he said, not sure what to add.

  Dawnstar stared at him, and then she rushed into his arms, hugging him tight. “You’d better not die. I hate this. I couldn’t live without you.”

  “I feel the same way.”

  She hugged him more tightly. “Do you really?” she whispered.

  “Yes! I most certainly do.”

  “Then why are you going?”

  He groped for the words to explain it.

  She watched him, and she must have seen something. “I know why. You’re an idealist. Even after all this time, it’s part of you. You’re also a romantic. You think your actions can change the world. Maybe a person can do that once, or maybe even twice like your dad did. But for most of us—”

  “I’m going crazy,” he said suddenly. “I have to do something. Can you understand that?”

  She searched his eyes and slowly nodded. “You’d better make it home. What do you think will happen to the kids if you don’t?”

  John felt guilty about that. Yet, he was a space marine. This time, he was going underwater. It really shouldn’t be dangerous—well, maybe a little in the Gulf, but he wasn’t sure.

  “It feels like events are rushing into place,” he said. “When I heard about this the other day… Does it make sense saying I have a gut feeling about it?”

  “Not if you don’t give me a hint.”

  John debated with himself. “My dad was a separatist once. He belonged to the Western States of America.”

  “They don’t exist anymore,” Dawnstar said.

  “Not as a separate political entity,” John said.

  Dawnstar eyed him harder than ever. “This is about separation from the World Government?”

  “I’ve said too much.”