Beyond Armageddon: Book 03 - Parallels (72 page)

"You okay?" her thirteen-year-old adopted daughter repeated.

            Nina’s head spun as she grabbed hold of her surroundings. Apparently a full day of training while waiting for her next assignment had exhausted her to the point of a nap.

"You were dreaming," Denise said. "I think…I think you were crying."

            Nina rubbed under her eyes finding the slightest hint of moisture there.

"I guess I…"

            "Must have been a really sad dream," Denise said although the girl appeared more concerned that mom’s noise had detracted from the TV.

            She thought about that and answered, "No…no I don’t think it was."

            Denise twisted around and said, "Um, mom, you’re not, like, going through
the change
or something are you? You know, hot flashes and—"

            "Denise! I’m only thirty!"

"Any cute guys in that dream? Huh?" the younger girl goaded.

            Nina paused. There had been…there had been someone. She thought…she thought she should remember but could only recall a feeling of warmth.

"I don’t know."

"Geez, mom, even your dreams are boring. But good thing you're up you DO NOT want to miss this."

            Denise slid aside so her mother could see the images on the television.

            "Looks like it’s all going crazy," Denise said. "What with Trevor gone and all."

            Nina ignored Denise’s casual toss of the Emperor’s first name and focused on the video. A reporter stood outside the Imperial mansion. Words in the corner of the screen announced LIVE VIA SATELLITE.

While she knew they had managed to access some communications satellites, someone had gone to a lot of trouble to ensure live coverage of whatever was happening at the lakeside estate.

---

            Evan Godfrey’s great march had started when hundreds marched out of Washington D.C., then boarded buses as well as cars and horse-drawn carts. Hundreds more joined after a rally in Baltimore, even more after another stop in Wilmington, Delaware.

            Between Evan Godfrey and Sharon Parsons, they covered all the talking points, from notes on democracy seemingly taken from Thomas Jefferson's pen to tender vigils in remembrance of New Winnabow. Guest speakers from union organizers to the relatives of dead soldiers excited the crowds with talk of workers' rights, a corrupt justice system, and the need to seek a peaceful solution to the invasion.

            Three thousand marchers rode chartered trains that rolled through Philadelphia where, on the steps of Independence Hall, the President of the Senate—Evan Godfrey—gave "the greatest speech since Armageddon" according to a National Broadcast Network commentator.

That particular speech added one new element to the usual checklist of grievances: Godfrey called for a moment of silence in memory of Trevor Stone. He said that it was for Trevor’s memory that they must march on the mansion and take away power from the military junta who presumed to have the wisdom and leadership of Trevor. That speech turned into an unabashedly glowing tribute to Evan’s ‘good friend’ and attracted hundreds of pro-Emperor sympathizers; people who knew a gaggle of Generals could not replace such a hero.

By that point, the number of Senators and local politicians hopping on the band wagon forced the chartering of luxury coach buses (for those politicians who shared the goal of the mob but preferred not to share accommodations). Of course, Evan's promise of 'live' satellite coverage for the big confrontation at the estate served as additional motivation.

The next morning, trains deposited the masses in Wilkes-Barre where they transferred to school buses, vans, horse-drawn buggies, and scores of pedal-powered bicycles. While the air-conditioned coaches quickly outdistanced the others, the group eventually mustered on the grounds of Joe's Pizzeria at the entrance to Harveys Lake.

            Reporters captured photos of uniformed soldiers standing alongside peace protestors mixed in groups with angry labor unionists shouting slogans in tandem with hard core constitutionalists all escorted by scattered formations of Internal Security personnel.

            Evan Godfrey filled with pride knowing that this collection of divergent interests should have meant a brawl but, instead, he focused them on one enemy: Jon Brewer and his cabal hiding behind the iron gates at the estate.

            He would lead them in lockstep around the lake to the mansion with a list of demands, the foremost of which being nationwide elections administered by the Senate.

The mass of humanity--dressed in everything from jeans and skirts to flashy colored costumes and Ronald Reagan Halloween masks--completely enveloped the thin road weaving around the lake. Additional I.S. agents arrived via helicopter to divert motor traffic and protect the mansion grounds.

This pleased Evan. He worried Brewer might call in hardcore military units or even some of Knox's paramilitary men. Seeing I.S. on the scene meant Dante Jones had prevailed.

            So as the protestors arrived outside the sealed iron fence they were greeted by Internal Security personnel and a number of K9 Grenadiers.

            More important, they were also greeted by the first functioning post-Armageddon live satellite feed truck, freshly painted "NBN". Not too many people outside of Godfrey’s closest friends at the network new that the timing of the march was based on a small window of opportunity for bouncing signals off a decaying and neglected telecommunications bird floating in a wobbly orbit above the eastern seaboard…

            …As Godfrey approached the gates with bullhorn in hand, Jon Brewer and a handful of council members convened in what had been Trevor’s personal office on the second floor.

            The General stood at the balcony doors with the curtains drawn almost—but not completely—closed. His wife was there, as was Gordon Knox, Omar and Anita Nehru, General Jerry Shepherd and Dante Jones.

            Gordon broke the silence, "You’re just going to stand there and stare at them? What happens when they climb the fence, Jon?"

            Dante snapped, "What do you want him to do? Open fire?"

            Knox answered, "That would be a start. Of course, a few weeks ago we could’ve just opened fire on select targets and this never would have happened. This is on your shoulders, Jon. All you had to do was tough it out. You failed."

            Brewer turned to the man with the bushy mustache.

            "I'm not going to murder anyone. Maybe you could, I can’t."

"And that’s why you shouldn’t have been calling the shots."

            Jon did not want to argue with Gordon anymore. Or more accurately, he could not argue anymore. His mind raced with possibilities ranging from wondering if Gordon was right…or maybe Evan was actually right.

            As much as he felt in control and in command on the battlefield, he desired no such position of political authority.

            Chants from outside carried across the mansion grounds and seeped in through the closed windows and doors: "No vote! No peace!" and "No More Dictators! No More King! Give us liberty…let freedom ring!"

            Dante Jones left the room as Ashley walked in. She wore a panicked expression.

"My son. Has anyone seen JB? He went to get a drink…he said he went to get a drink…then he was gone…" Ashley nearly cried.

Gordon roared, "What? Where the Hell is Dante? I told you! I told you, you should have brought in army units! Now someone snatched up Jorgie—"

            "Easy does it, Gordo. No one said nothing about Ashley’s boy gettin’ snatched. I reckon he’s just playing in one of the rooms," Shepherd placed a hand on Ashley’s shoulder. "I’ll go find him. Don’t seem like anything worthwhile going on around here anyway."

            Shep made to leave but stopped as a flood of persons poured into the room. Dante Jones and Evan Godfrey led that flood, followed by a camera broadcasting live and a perfectly groomed female reporter.

            Jon shouted, "What is this?" but managed to control his surprise enough to reach out and stop Knox from pulling his gun.

"Calm down!" Dante yelled. "Jon, I let Evan in so you two could talk. Just…talk."

Godfrey smiled as the camera rolled.

"Jon, I’m glad you finally decided to see me."

            Brewer hesitated in the face of the bright lights, the crowd, and the understanding that his next words carried across the entirety of the nation.

"Evan…you…um…"

            Knox interrupted, "Tell your mob to disperse."

            Godfrey would not be bothered or intimidated by Knox this day. No, this was Evan Godfrey’s day. Everything led to this. He had been patient, he had been resourceful, he had moved all his chess pieces into position masterfully. Why, he even impressed himself.

            Evan casually tugged at the lapels of his perfectly tailored suit and asked, "Jon, are you in charge here or is Imperial Intelligence running the show?"

Brewer swallowed hard and answered, "I am in charge."

            "Good," the President of the Senate projected a friendly smile. "Then you and I should talk. Right here. In front of the people."

            The crowd in the room stepped back like children on the playground clearing a ring for a schoolyard fight. Even Gordon Knox bit his tongue and gave way.

"This isn’t right, Evan. You’re tearing down everything Trevor built."

"Jon, I’m trying to protect what Trevor built. I loved Trevor," the Senator made sure to enunciate those words clearly for the sake of the reporter’s microphone. "I am here on his behalf. I am here to protect his interests."

"What? Wow, you really think I’m going to believe that?"

Evan raised his hands in an unthreatening manner and laid his palms bare like a messiah coming to bless the masses.

"Trevor prepared for this day, Jon. Why do you think he accepted the new Senate? As a means of succession. He never publicly named an individual to take over as Emperor should he depart, but he did help create the Senate and the representative districts throughout our great nation. This is what he wanted after he died."

Out the corner of his eye, Jon saw Gordon Knox's face glowing beet red and his fingers twitching just above his side arm. He expected the Director of Intelligence might just execute Evan there and then on live TV. However, Jon saw Knox's eyes dart around the room, first falling on Jones—who watched Knox like a hawk—and then to Ashley, who stood dangerously close to any possible crossfire.

At that point, Jon saw Gordon relax. Or, rather, stand down.

With that point of concern brushed aside, Jon returned his focus to Evan Godfrey and the man's argument. Again, his mind raced and he absently aired his thoughts aloud, "This is what Trevor wanted, after he died?"

"Yes."

Jon regrouped and accused, "I think this is what
you
want, whether or not Trevor is dead."

Evan feigned injury. "I have been the most loyal of Trevor’s friends," his voice was sure but calm. "I never followed him blindly; I always offered differences of opinion, because a true friend is not some yes-man dolt. No one weeps for him more than I. For the sake of the people, I would give anything to have him back here again. I miss his leadership and his friendship."

Evan wondered if that sounded as good over the air waves at it did in the room. Sometimes there was a difference, he knew.

"I miss you, too."

That confused Evan. He looked directly at Jon, heard the words, but it did not appear that Jon's lips moved.

"Guess it really all is in the timing."

Brewer’s eyes widened. An audible gush of air echoed through the room as the assembled cast of players and spectators drew in breathes of shock.

Godfrey realized the words had not been Jon's. He turned. So did the camera.

Trevor Stone stood in the doorway holding his son, JB, and wearing a strange black outfit under a more recognizable army camouflage jacket. Tyr the Elkhound hovered by his side.

"JB!" Ashley's relief came first for her son, the most important person in her life. As Trevor eased his boy to the ground, Ashley asked, "Where did you go?"

"I went to meet father at the runes. You should have seen the look on the guards’ faces!"

They were nothing, no doubt, compared to the look on Evan Godfrey’s face. His jaw hung open on live television, his eyes open even further. A visible quiver wobbled through the Senator as if he were made of guitar strings that had just been played by the devil himself. Sweat gleaned on his forehead from the camera light that suddenly grew scalding hot.

The Emperor joined Brewer and Evan in the ring of people.

"T-T-T-T-"

"Trevor," Stone finished for the Senator. He then glanced around the room at his people. Lori smiled, Jon appeared ready to cry with relief, Knox's forehead no longer glowed so red, and Dante trembled from head to toe. "Relax," Trevor placed a hand on the Internal Security Chief’s shoulder. "It’s okay. It’s okay."