The alien females watched them closely.

  Steele chose the one that looked the smartest. How did he tell? He just did.

  “You,” Steele said, pointing at the female.

  All the captives’ eyes grew wide.

  He aimed the beamer at the chosen female and swept it toward the bank of controls. Steele did this several times. Then he made a fist and pushed it along as he made a whooshing sound. Did that imitate a spaceship in flight? He hoped so.

  The chosen female’s eyes became even wider. Maybe she understood him.

  “This is it,” Steele said out of the side of his mouth to Smith.

  The female stepped up and sat at the obvious pilot chair.

  Steele cleared his throat.

  She looked back at him.

  Steele made an explosion sound as he opened his fist. Then, he shook his head and made a slicing move with a finger across his throat.

  The alien female stared at him.

  Two other females barked harsh words at her.

  “Get them out of here,” Steele told Smith.

  Smith and his team did just that, hustling them out.

  “What do you think?” Steele asked the exploratory lieutenant.

  “From what I can tell, the controls follow a logic and rationality that’s surprisingly comprehensible,” he said. “With her help, and me watching her, I can probably make sense of them soon enough.”

  Soon, the last marine boarded the teardrop-shaped alien spaceship. The main hatch to the hangar bay closed. Explosive devices detonated against the far bulkhead, creating an opening for the spaceship to use.

  The ship shook in its cradle as the atmosphere left the hangar bay and rushed into the vacuum of space.

  The lieutenant sat at the helm with the alien female by him. Everyone else was strapped in, tension palpable among the crew. The lieutenant had been testing for a time, watching her, and now he and she applied their knowledge.

  The cradle moved, pushing them toward the hangar bay door. It did not open.

  A light flashed on the screen.

  The blue female prepared to press it.

  “Wait,” the lieutenant told her.

  She looked at him, nodding, smiling.

  “Do it,” the lieutenant said with a shrug. “I hope she doesn’t blow us all to hell.”

  “Amen to that,” Steele said from where he was webbed into a station.

  Soon, the ship’s fusion engine came online. It propelled the vessel out of the hangar bay. Here, a piece of luck helped the Earthlings defend themselves. A hangar bay door blew open. Thirty aliens in spacesuits charged into the hangar bay. They carried beam rifles and what must have been a huge explosive. Five of them hauled the heavy explosive together. The aliens used magnetic boots to walk. As the aliens aimed the rifles and another set the explosive, the fusion engine exhaust burned them to death.

  The alien spaceship shot out of the derelict of the generational vessel. The mighty cylinder was torn open in places with thousands of dead and debris floating around it. Behind it—

  Steele shouted from his station. “Are we flying?”

  “We’re flying,” the lieutenant shouted.

  The alien female smiled at them, nodding and jabbering in her language.

  “Have you deciphered all the controls yet?” Steele asked.

  “Not by a long shot,” the lieutenant said. “But I’ve made enough sense of it, with her help, so we’re moving. The truth is, if it wasn’t for her, we’d all be dead. We need to get far enough away so I can experiment without worry about enemy missiles or maybe until she learns English and can explain all this.”

  The teardrop-shaped spaceship accelerated from the generational vessel. Not all the aliens were dead aboard it, but the vast majority surely must have been.

  A secondary particle beam began to move on the cylinder of a supership.

  “Sir,” a man said. “Do you see that?”

  A red light flashed on a screen.

  “Is that a target lock?” asked Steele.

  The lieutenant blinked and blinked more. “I’m not sure what this does.”

  The tall female shouted with alarm. She didn’t wait to look this time. Her strong fingers flew over the controls.

  “Has she lulled us into trusting her?” Steele asked, anxiety lacing his words. “Is she planning to detonate our spaceship?”

  “We’ll know in a second,” the lieutenant said.

  The teardrop-shaped spaceship increased thrust and thus velocity.

  The secondary particle beam cannon fired, and missed the ship. Likely, given enough time, the cannon would have tracked them before they could escape its range. In this scenario, Triton provided crucial cover, making all the difference. The alien spaceship flew past the moon and then over the horizon in relation to the alien supership. The moon blocked them from alien sight.

  “That was close,” Steele said. “Hey,” he said to the female.

  She turned to stare at him.

  Steele inclined his head to her. “Thank you. We owe you our lives.”

  She blushed, looking down. Did she understand them?

  The lieutenant shook his head in wonder. “This is far from over, sir. A lot of this is bewildering to me. But with her help, I’m getting the knack of it.”

  “We have a little time,” Steele said. “Concentrate on getting more distance from the generational vessel. Then—no forget about then. Just get us moving as far and fast as you can.”

  The lieutenant glanced at the female. He gave her a thumbs-up as he smiled.

  She nodded and gave him a thumbs-up back.

  The lieutenant turned to Steele. “I’ll do my best, sir. I’m thinking that we just might make it home with her help.”

  “Yes,” Steele said. “I’m thinking the same thing.”

  -68-

  The Corsair-class ship fled from the Akkad, Triton and Neptune. Ningal demanded the Akkad climb above the moon’s horizon. She wanted the corsair targeted before it flew out of range of the secondary particle beam cannon.

  A Valiant officer had the unfortunate task of informing her that it would be impossible. Much of the Akkad had been destroyed, with few motive systems intact and only three shuttles available. The motive systems wouldn’t be enough to chase the fleeing corsair for now.

  “We have captured some of the Earthlings alive, however,” the officer said.

  Ningal stared at him.

  “My men have pried them out of their battlesuits.”

  “The Earthlings are alive?”

  “A few,” the officer said. “Others require medical attention.”

  Ningal shrugged. “Let those die.”

  “Their knowledge could prove useful to us.”

  Ningal frowned. She hated anyone contradicting her these days. This was an unmitigated disaster. The Akkad had taken horrific damage. Thousands of Valiants had perished—perhaps as many as ten thousand.

  “How many survivors are there?” Ningal asked.

  “We can’t know yet,” the officer said.

  “A thousand?” asked Ningal.

  “I would hope more than that.”

  “I don’t want to hear about hope, but know the actual numbers,” Ningal said.

  “I’m guessing more than one thousand but less than two thousand.”

  “How did the Earthlings murder so many of us?” Ningal asked.

  “We have their battlesuits. We will learn from them and from videos of the fight.”

  Ningal’s eyes felt gritty. She felt tired and oh so old. Why hadn’t the old gods protected them from the ravages of these vicious Earthlings?

  “Continue to help our survivors,” Ningal said. “Save Earthlings if you think it’s important. I need to speak to my son.”

  The officer bowed and took his leave.

  Ningal swallowed in a dry throat. The horrible Earthling assault was over. The Earthling had escaped from the Akkad and had taken some of their precious Valiant technology. Could the corsair reach Earth?

  Ningal nodded. She knew she must send the dreaded message to her arrogant son on Titan so he could address the situation.

  ***

  Assur received the message from his mother and sent many questions back to her. In several days, he learned all the facts.

  The Earthlings had stormed the Akkad with special soldiers. A Colonel Steele had led the space marines into victory. They had left the Akkad in tatters. It was likely that the generational ship would stay in Neptune orbit forever. It wouldn’t be worth trying to bring the wreck to Titan. Perhaps, in ten years, the Valiants might salvage the Akkad and use its components to build a base on Triton.

  That struck Assur as the wisest course.

  He sat down with several strategists and worked out a plan to destroy the corsair. A week later, missiles launched from Titan, trying to intercept the craft before it reached Earth.

  The corsair held not only Valiant technology but also Valiant females. It seemed that the lecherous Earthlings had kidnapped thirty Valiant females. What were the bloodthirsty space marines doing to the captured females?

  The idea of it enraged Assur and his highest officers. Imagine the idea of Earth filth fondling their women.

  In any case, the missiles left Titan. Would the missiles intercept the corsair? Assur told his mother to pray to the old gods. Assur wasn’t counting on destroying the corsair, but chance might work in their favor, even if the odds were against it. He had to try.

  Now, however, with knowledge of how Earthlings conducted war in space, what lessons could the Valiants glean?

  The Earthlings were daring, bold and imaginative. The Valiants had similar qualities. From experiments gained from the broken Akkad, they learned that Earthlings were extremely like Valiants in all ways but for strength and size.

  How was that possible? Could similar evolution have caused this to happen?

  Assur and the strategists doubted that. The Earthlings and Valiants must have similar or the same antecedents. How far in the past would that have been?

  Given the similarity of the captured Earthlings, Assur would guess a ten thousand to twenty thousand-year ancestor.

  As all this occurred, robots and workers on Titan labored overtime to hasten construction. Work on the dreadnought had accelerated. There was no telling when the next round of Orion spaceships would launch from Earth.

  In truth, knowledge about Earth and humanity had increased tremendously since capturing the space marines. A few had become very cooperative indeed.

  Still, despite all, Assur loathed the idea of Valiant females in enemy hands. That was the worst situation any true Valiant could conceive.

  A month, two, three passed.

  The missiles launched from Titan failed to cross the path of the stolen speeding corsair vessel.

  The Earthlings had learned how to operate the Valiant warship. Could the females have helped the enemy in that? Assur hoped not. Surely, Valiant females from the Akkad were made of sterner stuff than that.

  It appeared the corsair vessel would reach Earth. That would change the war, although it was uncertain how fast the Earthlings could use the stolen technology.

  Assur shook his head. He couldn’t worry about that now. He needed the dreadnought so he could launch a direct assault on Earth and finish the war in one swift blow.

  He needed time, just a little more time. The question was: Would the Earthlings afford him that?

  -69-

  EARTH

  OCTOBER 2064

  Small Manfred A.S. Huber glanced around in consternation as big space marines marched him down a curving, orbital corridor. He had woken up on Earth several hours ago, and these men had taken him against his will, forcing him to accompany them.

  Earlier, a step outside from his rented house had shown Huber that his guards were gone, stunned, or dead on the ground. The little resistance Huber had felt had left him then.

  The kidnapping space marines took him to a spaceport and joined him on a rocket plane to LEO. Now he was here on an orbital station.

  Which one is it?

  Huber wasn’t sure. The space marines refused to tell him, although they otherwise treated him with accord.

  Much had changed since the stolen alien spaceship from Neptune raced past and then sped far ahead of the Titan-launched missiles. A subtle power play had started between CEO James Petty and Director Anwar Gray. Was that power play finally coming into the open?

  Petty had been increasing in influence for years. Two years ago, he’d created a special service, a secret service responsible only to him. Lately, James Petty remained in space, flittering from orbital station to orbital station, never finding the time to return to the Earth’s surface.

  Huber suspected that Petty was deliberately carving his niche in the Corpocracy hierarchy, that of orbital space expert.

  Now, the marines marched Huber to a hatch. It opened. One of the space marines gently prodded Huber against his back, pushing him. Huber stumbled into a spacious chamber, one with a grand view of space from a huge viewing port as the station rotated.

  Behind a huge desk, a chair swiveled so James Petty regarded him. The man was older. They all were. Petty had lines on his face where before there had been none. He had greater calculation in his eyes. He was still big and worked out. Perhaps he even continued to use steroids, the more fool him.

  “Sir, please,” Petty said, “come sit down with me.”

  Huber noticed a chair in front of the desk, one fitted to his size. It didn’t appear to be a mockery. Huber went to the chair and sat, making himself comfortable. He noticed a button on the armrest and pressed it. The chair rose, bringing him to eye level with Petty.

  “I take it you engineered my kidnapping,” Huber said as calmly as he could.

  Petty shook his head. “Not kidnapping, my friend, not kidnapping at all. I had my security detail grab you before Gray’s assassins arrived at your house.”

  “I’ve seen no evidence of assassination in the works for me.”

  “I know,” Petty said. “That’s one of the things that make you such a valuable man, such a keen brain. You see the big picture, the aliens, in this instance, to the exclusion of your own safety.”

  “You’ve taken a big risk doing this,” Huber said.

  “I have,” Petty said. “But then I’m impulsive at times, given to certain…proclivities, shall we say.”

  “Do you mean the skirts, sir?”

  Petty couldn’t help it, but grinned, “I do indeed. It helps calm my thinking, if you know what I mean.”

  “I suppose,” Huber said.

  “But that isn’t why I brought you here. We need to decide, you and I—” Petty pointed at himself and then at Huber, and back and forth. “You and I need to decide how we’re going to deal with the alien females and with Colonel Steele and his marines.”

  “I don’t understand,” Huber said. “Doesn’t that fall under Director Gray’s purview?”

  “The females and the victorious marines are an intricate linchpin toward defeating the greater alien menace. Gray, unfortunately, believes otherwise.”

  “Sir?”

  Petty nodded. “I have learned that Gray intends to have Steele and his marines slaughtered in order to forestall any nationalist nonsense from the enclaves. The alien females may be eliminated, as well, although I’m not as certain about that.”

  “Surely Gray wants the alien technology,” Huber said.

  “Oh, yes, Gray wants the technology. He isn’t a total fool.”

  Huber shook his oversized, longhaired head. “The others—the females and the marines—possess critical and invaluable information. Steele can tell us how the aliens fought and how they reacted to various stimuli.”

  “Gray says that can all be gleaned from the battle tapes.”

  “No, no,” Huber said. “That’s not the same at all. We must study the marines’ reactions as they speak, measure all sorts of things. It would be a terrible mistake to kill the marines. It would be an even worse mistake to kill the alien females. It would be senseless, a senseless waste.”

  “It makes sense for Gray,” Petty said. “The Director has already started a subtle campaign against the alien females. He seeks to make people hate them. One plan I’ve heard is that of Gray’s people killing the alien females openly and broadcasting that to the aliens at Titan.”

  “But why?” asked Huber, astonished.

  “To demoralize the invaders,” Petty said, “to show them that no quarter will be given when they lose.”

  “Would such a demonstration demoralize the aliens?” Huber asked.

  “I don’t know. Can you tell me?”

  Huber shook his big ugly head. “I don’t know either. It does strike me as counter intuitive.”

  Petty folded his thick hands on the desk. “My service has been studying Gray more intensely. A year ago, one of the psychologists made a startling discovery. Gray is xenophobic. He hates the aliens for reasons that have to do with his personal psychology more than anything else. However, if Gray continues to head the Corpocracy, we will likely kill the females openly, wasting them as a possible tool or lever.”

  “You don’t believe we should do that?” Huber said.

  “If that’s the only way we can win, certainly I would sanction it. Winning is everything, winning is everything,” Petty repeated in a quieter voice.

  “I know you believe that, sir,” Huber said.

  Petty looked up. “And you don’t?”

  “Well, in this instance, I do, yes,” Huber said.

  “Excellent,” Petty said. “That’s the difference between Gray and me. He loves to pose for the sake of it. I do not love to pose more than I love to win. I love to be the one gaining the garlands of victory, but more than that, I want to be the one who succeeds. That means I want Earth to win. If that means cooperating with the aliens at times…” Petty shrugged. “Whatever it takes is fine with me.” He grinned lecherously. “And these alien women… I’m told most of them are pregnant.”

  Huber said, “But that’s impossible if they’re aliens. Our sperm cannot possibly mingle successfully with their eggs.”

  “You’re wrong,” Petty said. “It’s already happened.”