Parallels

Huffman fell unconscious.

– The morning sun was out there, somewhere, but far removed from the conference room in the basement of the estate where gloom prevailed.

Jon and Lori Brewer, Gordon Knox, General William Hoth, and Omar Nehru sat at the conference table. A handful of aids waited in the wings.

'And that is all I can be saying,' Nehru finished his report. 'Other than the radiation on which you have been told already, there is no evidence of any place to which the structure has gone or to whom it might have belonged.'

'That’s just great,' Jon's chair squeaked as he leaned back. 'All this time and you’ve got nothing? Shit, we’ve got nothing.'

General Hoth said, 'Army Group North has temporarily pacified the surrounding countryside, and we’ve secured Cincinnati as a result of the…,' Hoth, uncharacteristically, stumbled to describe the mass vanishing in that southwestern Ohio metropolis. '…the situation there. However, I require the return of the brigades you pulled from the lines last week.'

Gordon jumped in, 'We need those brigades for domestic security. You’ll just have to tough it out until we can free them up.'

'Let me rephrase,' Hoth paused, gathered his thoughts, and then did just that. 'Short of additional mass disappearances, I can not take any more of the major cities with my current manpower. My forces are barely adequate for maintaining defensive positions.'

'Why are we even talking about your army?' Lori Brewer shot. 'We need to be focused on Trevor. It’s now or never.'

Jon explained to his wife, 'General Hoth either needs those brigades back or he needs to withdraw across Ohio. Maybe even abandon Cincy. Between Plats, Roachbots, and predatory hostiles, his position is becoming untenable.'

'Withdrawing now would be a sign of weakness,' Gordon said. 'At the same time, I think we’re going to need those brigades back here.'

'I do not understand why,' Hoth spent most of his time at the front where he received little information on the degenerating situation on the home front. Further, could not understand the idea of neglect of duty, therefore he did not understand why Internal Security units failed to do their job, or could not be trusted to do so. He did, however, notice that the day's meeting did not include Dante Jones.

'You want to know why?' Lori turned in her chair and grabbed a newspaper from the top of what had once been a basement bar. She read from the headlines. 'Riot at Governor’s mansion turns deadly…the ‘Sons of Trevor’ strike in Philadelphia…labor guild promises wild cat strikes if elections are not held…Senate refuses to allocate funds for the military…should I go on?'

Jon ran a hand across his forehead and closed his eyes.

Omar offered, 'If I may be suggesting, perhaps it is time for us to admit to tell the people of what has happened.'

'No,' Gordon nearly shouted. 'We need to assert military control and publicly recognize Jon Brewer as the acting head of state. We have to follow a military hierarchy.'

'And why is that being?' Omar asked.

'Because this is a war,' Knox answered 'Now is not the time for politics. We have to be tough on this. If we’re tough I know we can assert control over the situation.'

'It is a question of legitimacy,' Hoth’s voice sounded soft but seemed more an explosion to the ears in the room. The man commanded an entire Army Group of loyal soldiers. If he broke from the rest of the military, things could actually get worse in a hurry.

However, before anyone could react to Hoth, the basement door opened and Dante Jones descended the stairs and stood next to the conference table.

Jones did not look at Brewer as he said, 'Jon, there's a call for you on line one. You need to take it.'

'Who is it?' Lori somehow beat Knox to the question.

'Evan Godfrey. I think you should talk to him.'

Every eye in the room focused on a lonely phone sitting atop the conference table. On that phone blinked a solitary red light.

Lori placed a hand on her husband's shoulder as Jon reached for the receiver. His index finger extended and- trembling-pushed the blinking red button, activating the speaker.

Evan Godfrey's voice came across calm and self-assured. 'Good morning, Jon. I assume the usual cast is present. You know why I am calling. Things have reached a critical juncture. Jon? Are you listening?'

Brewer licked his lips, swallowed, and answered, 'I’m here.'

'Good. As of this moment, Washington D.C. is an independent city. That is to say, the Senate has taken direct control of administering this city. Notice I did not say Imperial Senate. '

'You can’t do that, Evan,' Jon protested in a stumbling voice.

'That’s where you are wrong. The D.C. garrison and the majority of senators support this position. However, this is a temporary move. One that will certainly be matched by more cities and voting districts across what used to be The Empire.'

'Used…to…be?'

Lori Brewer said, 'You’re going to destroy everything Trevor worked to build!'

'Where is Trevor Stone? He is not on a secret mission, Jon. Maybe he was, but he’s gone now. I have been patient so far but it is obvious that he is not coming back. I told you, there will be no new Emperor. The people loved him and followed him but he is gone.'

'Are you so sure?' Brewer did not so much confront Evan as confront his own fear of Trevor's disappearance. His way, perhaps, of finally admitting that Trevor was gone for good.

'It is time for our society to make the transition to democracy. I’m sorry but I don’t trust you, Shepherd, and the likes of Gordon Knox to run this nation. Neither do the people.'

Dante Jones implored the assembled, 'Listen to him. I know you don’t like him. I know you’ve had disagreements. Trevor always put those aside to do what was right. Now you have to do that, Jon. Now you have to do what is right for the greater good.'

Knox eyed Jones with a hawkish glare while Jon Brewer remained fixed on that red light.

Evan continued, 'We're getting things organized here in D.C. We’ve written a charter for a new governing structure. Of course, each of you will play an important part in the transition. And each of you is welcome to run for office. But Jon, we’re not staying in Washington forever. This is about our entire country and all the people. You have a few days or so. Then we’ll be coming up there to see you. We’re going to march on the estate. It will be a peaceful protest. I expect you to show restraint but just incase, there will be several members of the military marching with us. Some officers, some rank and file, as well as Internal Security, representatives of the labor guild and many more. So you wait up there in your bunker and think things through. In a few days, I’ll be coming to see you.'

– Trevor closed his eyes.

So this is how it ends? Maybe it won’t be so bad…

A sound. No, a voice. A Chaktaw voice from the crowd of surrounding Fromm. The human slave translated as if on instinct, 'Wait.'

Trevor saw movement among the assembled witnesses. A child squeezed to the front. She wore her hair in braids along the scalp and watched the world through hazel eyes that stood apart among the green eyes of her people.

'Wait. Father. Stop,' the girl’s pleas translated.

Trevor recognized the expression on Fromm's face. He saw that unique combination of annoyance and concern blended with the unmistakable love of a father for his child. The Chaktaw leader stooped to speak with his daughter who pleaded with him in their native language. The translator did not share the discussion but Trevor did not need to understand the words to see that the daughter's urgings caused her father no small measure of confusion.

Trevor saw something more there, too. The girl's ranting not only puzzled her father, but the way Fromm's mouth hung open and how he squinted-as if searching his daughter's eyes-suggested he stood in awe of her the