July, though, we weren’t hearing much. Rumor had it the top guns-you know the brass-got wiped out. Don’t know about that, though.'
'Tell me mister Prescott, sir,' Omar asked. 'What about the President?'
Prescott scratched his head again as if the memories needed help coming forth.
'Well, I suppose you heard he got out of DC early on, right? The only thing I heard after that were some Pentagon folks saying he had lost freedom of movement. I guess they were having real trouble with communications and such. Point is, by August there was no President any more. No Congress. Nothing. Last I heard in September there were still a lot of army units fighting in California and the navy was out there doing some good, but otherwise there wasn’t any U.S. military any more. Same goes for overseas. The Russians got their asses kicked, or so I heard, but no details. As for us, we got torn apart little pieces at a time. Like piranha on an elephant, I suppose.'
Shepherd nodded. 'I figure we all guessed that’s how it went down.'
Trevor said, 'Couldn’t have happened any other way. I think the troops could have handled one big army dropping from the sky. Not the chaos, though. Not all at once.'
'We had no warning, no time to prepare,' Prescott gripped his fists tight. 'When I look back, I can think of a thousand things I would have done different. I’ll tell you, I would have turned off my radio. What’s that they say? Yeah, too many chefs, you know?'
Stonewall said, 'Perhaps, Mr. Prescott, divine providence has steered you through the shattered lands to this place where you can fight once again with a purpose.'
The Major sighed and changed the subject. 'Maybe. In the meantime, I suppose it’d be a good idea for Mr. Nehru here to take the engineers under his wing and put them to use.'
'Oh my goodness yes,' Omar beamed.
'That sounds like a plan,' Trevor agreed but his thoughts already raced ahead with a flurry of ideas now that trained and armed soldiers had joined the estate. Nonetheless, one issue hung in the air. As the meeting broke, Trevor took Prescott aside.
'Major, there is something we need to talk about.'
The soldier raised his hand.
'Don’t worry none. I’ve spent the last six months barely surviving and wasting a lot of men’s lives. I look ‘round here and, geez, you’ve been doing some damn fine work. So yeah, I know whose giving the orders.'
– One day later, Trevor formed a council of advisors. Evan Godfrey’s enthusiasm for the move faded when Trevor eschewed elections and handpicked the members.
Ironically, Godfrey’s work in helping new arrivals earned him a spot on the council overseeing housing and needs. Trevor put Reverend Johnny in charge of medical concerns and appointed Brewer as the point man for combat issues (with Prescott assisting).
Dante-still out scouting-would head internal security. This met with grumbles but Trevor wanted Dante on that council; the man had a way of seeing both sides of coins, even if his background lay in computers, not policing. Trevor knew that his best law enforcement people-Shep and Nina-would be needed on the front lines, not on guard duty.
Trevor placed Lori Brewer in charge of resident tracking and convinced Eva Rheimmer to travel in from her farm periodically to discuss the food supply.
Finally, Omar would handle 'Science and Technology'.
At the first council meeting-sans Dante-Evan bitched about the need for elected representation. Omar bitched about too many projects and not enough help. Reverend Johnny bitched about the lack of medical facilities. Eva Rheimmer bitched about having to travel all the way in from the farm to listen to all the bitching.
– On December 10 ^ th 'Bear' Ross and McBride returned after having traveled all the way to Grove City in western Pennsylvania. During that trip, they contacted more than twenty survivors and spied a slew of solitary alien animals but no organized threats.
The next day Bird and Cassy Simms arrived home after having pushed far into New Jersey with the same results albeit on a grander scale: if all the people they met during their scouting trip managed to return to the estate then the ranks of survivors would grow by more than one hundred.
Dante and Kristy Kaufman completed their round trip on December 12 ^ th but brought no good news. Instead, they found something ominous outside of Binghamton, New York.
Trevor stared at a photograph as the council and other prominent survivors gathered in the command center.
Dante told them, 'It’s one hellish looking thing. I mean, you stand anywhere near it and there’s like an electricity in the air.'
Kristy added, 'And lightning. All up there above it. Flashes in the sky.'
The sphere in the photo stretched ten stories tall. It did not look as if it had been built; more as if it had been grown.
'Something bad, man,' Dante explained. 'I tell you, it gives me the creeps.'
'And there’s things guarding it, too,' Kristy said. 'Disgusting things.'
Reverend Johnny looked at the photo. 'Perhaps it belongs to The Order, but I'm not sure.'
Trevor tapped the picture.
I know someone who can.
– 'I don’t be needin’ no picture,' the Old Man said. 'I know what you're talkin’ ‘bout.'
'So it’s a gateway.' Trevor stood by the fire in the forest.
'Boy, you’ve gotten really smart since the last time we powwowed.'
'So these gateways are how all the aliens got here so they could kill off mankind.' 'I just knew you were gunna start thinkin’ you figured this shit out. Lemme tell you somethin’, if this was about killin’ off mankind you’d all be killed off by now. Some of the things out there, hell, they could rip the at-mos-fere off this world. Shit, some could crack the core and roast marshmallows on your cities as the whole ball of wax melts from the inside out.' 'So what? So what is all of this about?'
The Old Man clued him in… a little.
'It’s about defeat’n mankind. Beatin’. Sub-jew-gait-ing. Killin' ya’ll off, that’d be sort of anti-climatic. Turnin’ ya’ll into second-class nobody’s, now that’s an accomplishment. But it ain’t my job to go fillin’ you in on all this. Mind your bees wax.'
'Wait a sec,' Trevor formed an idea. 'What if there’s a way to reverse the gates: suck everything back to where it came from.'
'Yeah, yeah,' the Old Man encouraged. 'In one shot you could go sendin’ em’ all packin’! Why, it’d be over lickity-split!'
The Old Man paused for a moment to let his sarcasm sink in and then mocked, 'What you expectin’? You think there’s an exhaust port on this Death Star? One lucky shot and- whammo — everything is as right as rain? Maybe you haven’t seen the light of it yet. Face it, whatchya got here is an ole’ fashioned slugfest, Trev. The Martians ain’t gunna catch cold and die. You can’t kill the mother creature and all the little ones waste away. No magic bullets.'
'So, what? It doesn’t matter about this gate thing?'
'Sure it matters. The more of em’ gates are around the more re-in-force-mints the bad guys get. Take a gate out and you take a step toward wipin’ em’ all out. Cause that’s what you got to do, Trev. You got to wipe em’ all out.'
'That’s it? Just shoot, kill, and blow things up?'
'Eureka! I think he’s got it! What did it used to say on that T-shirt? Oh yeah, ‘kill em’ all and let God sort em’ out.’ That’s your motto, Trevor. And you know what? You got it in you.'
'You really think so?'
'Before this is over, Trevor, you’re gunna realize one important thing ‘bout yourself: your soul was damned before you was born.'
27. Destruction
