She was the Director of the World Government, a political entity run along corporate lines. Once, she had ruled the entire Earth. Now, the New World Conglomerate had wrested North and South America from her, along with Australia, New Zealand, Indonesia, Britain, and Ireland. It was a galling situation, especially when James Petty ruled orbital space as another, separate fiefdom.

  What was particularly galling was the disparity in numbers. The World Government controlled over fifteen billion, the New World Conglomerate a third of that. Petty had fewer than 700,000 people in twenty-three orbital stations, five 100,000-ton Orion ships, the Orbital Space Yards, and the Orbital Space Marine Training Facility. Oh, and he controlled the Moon. Not that the Moon held much after the Valiants had vacated it.

  The retreating aliens had taken their lunar captives with them, fewer than 500 humans.

  Livia was presently in a vast subterranean bunker system near Delhi, India. It had been several months since the Valiants had retreated from the Moon. Their spaceships hadn’t even reached Jupiter yet to perform the gravity assist to the Titan colony in the Saturn system.

  Petty had sent word about the aliens constructing three new Enforcer-class warships, which might be completed by the time the alien invasion fleet returned to Titan. The Valiants also seemed to be heavily modifying three asteroids, each around one kilometer in diameter. Likely, the aliens had towed the asteroids from Saturn’s rings.

  The intense construction was taking place in Titan’s orbital yards. Titan was Saturn’s largest moon, one of several the Valiants had colonized.

  Most of this intelligence came from a newly deployed orbital telescope trained on the Saturn system. Some must also have come from Watchdog satellites deployed years ago, which had penetrated into the Outer Planets.

  Livia stepped to a cabinet, opened a tall door, and examined the wine bottles there. She selected Imperium Noir 2055. The grapes had been cultivated in the renowned Villa Drusilla Estate in Tuscany, Italy. The estate’s history dated back to the Roman Empire of antiquity. These days, the estate limited themselves to only 300 cases annually of this brand, making this a pricey bottle.

  Livia uncorked it and poured herself a modest amount. She raised the goblet, swirling the wine and sniffing delicately. The heady aroma almost made her smile.

  Instead of indulging herself, Livia took the goblet with her, moving to the main desk and sitting on the chair. She set the goblet on the desk, reached for the tablet, and reread a portion of the memo. Then she sat back, contemplating.

  Bain had agreed last strategy session that the Valiants would wait for the returning fleet before they launched a second assault, perhaps against Earth this time instead of the Moon.

  The assembling of the asteroids, the heavy modifications to them, indicated the Valiants wished to turn them mobile. They had done that once before. A one-kilometer asteroid had fought in the Second Battle of Saturn in 2069. That had been a defensive situation for the aliens, one they deceivably won. Could the Valiants think to turn three such asteroids into mobile platforms that could travel to Earth, and do this in a timely fashion? That was at least 1.2 billion kilometers of space travel.

  Livia glanced at the goblet tempting her, wanting to sip the wine, but still hesitating to do so.

  Suppose the aliens could achieve this amazing construction within a year. That meant the World Government had at least twenty months before humanity had to deal with the aliens near Earth. During that time, within ten months or less, her previously inept military, now guided through her cunning and stiffening, could surely reconsolidate its hold on all the Earth and gain control of the orbital stations and the Orion ships.

  Livia’s eyes shined at the thought. She hadn’t clawed her way to supreme power to let others strip pieces from her. She was instituting a new program—an increase in military authority for her favorite secret service. Over time, that should change the military equation in her favor.

  The new program was to make sure there were no more military coups as had happened in the Indonesian islands or the poor military showing in Australia.

  The Kali Intelligence Division (KID) was in the process of extending its influence into the WG’s military. That was according to her orders. Livia had patterned this after the NKVD in the Soviet Union prior to WWII.

  This meant political commissars were being integrated into the military hierarchy. They would ensure ideological purity and greater aggressiveness. That would ensure absolute loyalty to her at every level of command.

  The training program for the KID commissars was rigorous and comprehensive, beginning with indoctrination in political ideals and the historical context of the regime. The inductees were undergoing intensive education on the principles of loyalty, combined with psychological ops and tactical training.

  The first commissars were already embedded within major military units. In time, each army and police brigade would not only have a commissar but also an action squad under his command, ready to enforce compliance and execute critical operations.

  Livia glanced at the goblet again.

  The temptation was too great. She finally picked up the goblet and took a delicate sip. The wine was heavenly. She let it sit on her tongue before gently swallowing. Then she set the goblet down before she sipped more.

  She didn’t want to indulge too much but control her alcohol consumption. She had read the briefings on Petty and his increasing drunkenness. The man was becoming a beast.

  The KID operation squads would be composed of elite teams trained in both traditional and cyber warfare, capable of handling any threat from within or outside the military ranks. Theoretically, their presence would neutralize all dissent or disloyalty.

  Livia sat back and swiveled around. She didn’t want to wait until this military reform was complete. She needed to strike and consolidate her full rule over the Earth.

  What should she attempt first? Should she begin a direct war against the New World Conglomerate or attempt to capture the orbital stations with a secret operational strike?

  Both could inadvertently turn into nuclear exchanges. Ultimately, that would mean a victory for the aliens. Thus, she needed to avoid that, meaning she had to use cunning and guile.

  Livia smiled for the first time. Guile was her greatest strength. How had she dealt with the former Director, Anwar Gray? She had played the perfect lieutenant until she maneuvered him into a position where she placed a nuclear bomb under his ass and detonated it.

  That seemed like the answer now. She should play nice and then entice Maria Chavez of the New World Conglomerate and CEO Petty of the Orbital Stations into one place. It would be wisest if she could entice as many powerful leaders of each side to the same location. And then—

  “Boom,” Livia said quietly, letting the fingers of one hand expand outward, with her eyes shining with murder lust.

  What would be the best way to entice them into this place?

  After a time of contemplation, Livia nodded again. It was time to extend the olive branch and have a critical peace conference where they could hammer out their differences for the sake of unity against the alien threat.

  Livia pondered, trying to determine the perfect location. As she mulled it over, she leaned forward, picked up the goblet, and sipped a little more.

  Soon, the wine was gone. She felt the heady fumes in her mind, the very first touches of it.

  Then the answer came to her, the location. Greenland would be the perfect site, one of the last islands controlled by the World Government. Could she entice Chavez and Petty to come to Greenland, as it was separated by an ocean from the rest of her dominion?

  She believed she could.

  Livia rubbed her hands together. This was what she did best—subterfuge with a murderous twist. It was time to lay the groundwork for what would surely be her masterpiece.

  As the New World Conglomerate and Orbital Stations reeled from the disaster, they would be ripe for the picking, soon surrendering to her control.

  -3-

  TWO AND A HALF MONTHS LATER

  Incredibly, the members of the New World Conglomerate bought into Livia’s sincerity. Perhaps the relief from the alien retreat had something to do with it. Whatever the reason, it took two and a half months of intense negotiations to hammer out the details for the grand peace conference.

  Many highly ranked CEOs in the New World Conglomerate put pressure on Maria Chavez to normalize relations with the World Government. The embargos between the two power blocs had severely curtailed trade between them. That had led to massive revenue losses.

  Besides, everyone knew that Earth had to begin heavy industrialization again so that humanity could manufacture more Orion ships to face the aliens.

  CEO Petty controlled five 100,000-ton Orion ships. That was a powerful force, but still not the eight the World Government had launched at Saturn in 2068.

  No new Orion ships had been produced since the Valiants had sent their invasion fleet against the Moon.

  The projectiles from the Iapetus railgun, the civil war fought between Earth forces and the distrust and hostility badly needed mending.

  Livia Drusus was offering the olive branch of peace. There would be a World Council with two houses, one based on the three separate blocs, and one based on population.

  The second house would heavily favor Livia. Her intelligence operatives were busy painting a different picture of the World Council. Most of the executive power would go to the first house.

  To sweeten the possibilities, Livia’s representatives to the New World Conglomerate and Orbital Stations offered immediate trade deals, saying they could hammer out the political decisions later.

  Petty wanted more Orion ships immediately. The CEOs and populace of the New World Conglomerate wanted prosperity. Both lures pulled Chavez and Petty into agreeing to a face-to-face conference in Greenland, at the former Eastern Settlement where the Vikings lived from 985 AD to the early 15th century, for roughly 400-450 years.

  The place was nestled in the fjords of southwestern Greenland, with mountains and glaciers adding breathtaking scenic beauty.

  Back in the day, the Vikings had lived in wooden longhouses and raised a stone church—after they turned from Thor and Odin to Christ. These days, people lived in prefabricated homes.

  Work on erecting the necessary structures had begun two months ago, including a spaceport with an extra-long landing strip.

  During the Peace Initiative, as it was called, Livia’s internal security services took care of a small matter. This included bombing a desert mosque in Iran. The site was roughly twelve kilometers from where the plane had crashed, the one John Steele had sabotaged with his revolver, with Colonel Garvey coming down in a Vehicle Descent Shuttle (VDS), rescuing Dr. Huber, Dawnstar, and Steele from jihadists.

  This bombing of the desert mosque proved critical to the Jihadist Freedom Party, as its founder, Mohammed Khamenei, had started the JFP in the historic mosque twelve years earlier.

  M. Khamenei’s youngest and favorite son Selim had been worshiping at the mosque when the WG forces destroyed it.

  M. Khamenei was still very much alive. His vision of a greater Islamic Republic had gained traction since the Iapetus railgun catapulted forty projectiles onto Earth. They had each hit with the destructive power of a nuclear device. The annihilation of critical factories and transport hubs had seriously weakened Earth industrially and economically. The downward spiral had hurt this part of the world in particular, causing many suffering individuals to embrace Islam with greater fervor.

  The bombing and destruction of the M.K. Mosque—as it was known—inflamed many in the JFP, including the highest leadership.

  The growing unrest did nothing to disrupt Livia’s Greenland plot. But it would have ramifications in the weeks and months to come.

  In any case, the preliminary meetings between the Orbital, NWC, and WG people continued, laying the groundwork for the coming conference. There were several direct video-link talks between Drusus, Chavez, and Petty. It was all very cordial and promising.

  In most regards, Livia and the World Government possessed the best secret services. The New World Conglomerate came in at a far second, with the Orbital people the worst. The NWC possessed the best ground soldiers, the Orbital people the best space marines, as they had the only space marines.

  At the site in Greenland, Livia allowed both the NWC and the Orbital people to send security details to overlook everything. Those details did not find anything suspicious.

  The weeks piled up, and the conference drew nearer, presenting the possibility of unity against the aliens.

  Livia started to become ecstatic over the prospects. She expected a decapitation strike to take out the best New World Conglomerate and Orbital leaders. Both places would be reeling from the blow. In anticipation, she had already deployed several of her best Thuggee operatives to the orbital stations.

  The Thuggees were an old Indian cult of garroting experts, using a cord or cloth to choke their victims to death. The modern Thuggees served Kali and thus served in the Kali Intelligence Division, its secretive branch.

  Those few Thuggee experts on the orbitals would know what to do once Petty died from the…

  Livia often chuckled, and many wondered at her improved mood. She never said the nuke part aloud.

  Livia smiled even more as she made a list of her most troublesome generals or other high-ranking WG individuals, those she distrusted but lacked the damning evidence needed to execute. Chief among the list was Senior General Tom Bain of Missile Command.

  Bain was too clever and fearless for her tastes, though he had ensured that the World Government possessed the best missile force, along with a secret space force ready to blast off into orbit.

  As she thought about Bain’s impending death, Livia chuckled with true appreciation.

  Bain would attend the Greenland Conference, adding his atoms to the mushroom cloud along with her most hated enemies.

  The weeks wound down, and the first day of the conference drew near. Soon, the event was only days away, but that was when others began to conspire against Livia’s brilliant solution to the Gordian knot of Earth unity.

  -4-

  Senior General Tom Bain lay in bed coughing, sneezing, and then hacking his lungs out. He had an apartment in Delhi, India, not in the underground bunker system where the Director stayed, but in the vast metropolis. He lived in one of the high-rise apartments where many of the higher-level Missile Command officers also lived.

  Bain was single, his wife having divorced him two years ago. An aide sat in another room on the off chance he needed something or someone.

  Bain wasn’t deathly sick, but he started hacking again, finally spitting phlegm into a nearby basin beside his bed.

  The aide, a young man, poked his head into the bedroom. “You okay, sir?”

  Bain nodded miserably, lying his head back on the pillow.

  The Senior General was a big man, with disheveled black hair and once rock-steady nerves. Those nerves had saved his life and the lives of the World Government’s highest command staff during the Indonesian Island fiasco. The Director had been ready to institute decimation amongst them. That meant every group of ten would draw lots. The one who drew the black lot would submit to death by clubbing by the other nine. It was an old Roman custom brought forward by the Director.

  In the Delhi bedroom, Bain stared up at the ceiling, remembering. So much had happened since that day. For instance, certain industries had retooled from Guardian III missile construction to secret Phoenix rocket ships. Bain had been so certain the rocket ships would give him everything he desired. Had that desire been space command? No, it would have meant ruling over everything, particularly the Earth.

  You see, Bain had a devastating secret. It had gone a long way to ruining his health.

  As if to prove the point, the general began coughing and wheezing again, his huge frame shaking as he lay in bed.

  Bain was in his mid-forties, probably the most competent general in the World Government. That included the evil people in the secret services, particularly those in the Kali Intelligence Division.

  Bain groaned just thinking about it. Then he coughed more and spat more phlegm into the bedside basin. Looking at the contents—

  Bain made a face. That was disgusting, but at least it wasn’t bloody. He had picked up a bug while playing soccer last week against the younger officers.

  Bain sighed morosely.

  He was sweaty and it was hard to think straight. He was obviously feverish, and he was supposed to go to the great Greenland Conference a week from now. Just thinking about it made him start coughing again.

  The aide returned and set pills and a glass of water on the nightstand.

  Bain struggled up, popped the pills into his mouth, and chugged them down with as much water as he could stand.

  The aide left with the empty glass.

  The problem came an hour later.

  Bain struggled out of bed. He wore a nightgown that failed to cover his ankles and half his calves. He was a big man, although not a giant like the females that guarded the Director. Nevertheless, Bain was normally strong. Now, he felt powerless.

  He stood beside the toilet and whizzed for what seemed like forever. He coughed and shivered, and meandered back to bed, collapsing into it. He shivered until he pulled the blanket to his chin.

  He couldn’t sleep, although he stopped shivering. He’d been feeling well a week ago when he inspected one of the secret launch sites for the Phoenix rocket ships.

  They were three times the size of Guardian III missiles. If all the Phoenixes launched together, the World Government would have approximately 40,000 tons-worth of a space force. That didn’t match even half the tonnage of a single Orion ship. But Bain had been so certain the Valiants’ Enforcers versus Admiral Tojo’s Orion ships would have destroyed each other in a near parity slugfest around the Moon.

  Instead, the cowards hadn’t faced each other, but had each cautiously hung back. That meant all three Enforcers had left the Moon, while four Orion ships turned into five. That was five times too much tonnage: as one Orion ship could take out the entire Phoenix space force.