Trevor exited the building as the instructor’s lift came to the floor and a medic attended to Brewer.
'Just a training exercise,' Trevor spat as the defeated soldiers gathered without a sound.
Trevor thrust a finger toward the outer wall of the gymnasium but actually pointed at much more. 'There is a world out there that is trying to kill you. Do you understand? There isn’t any mercy out there. They don’t use fake guns.'
'We know that,' the instructor mumbled.
'Then act like it! If you die, here, in this prison of a city then everything dies with you!'
Nina and Johnny descended the bleachers.
'Our city stands,' one of the soldiers dared, yet Trevor heard something in the heckler’s voice that kept him from breaking the man’s neck. He heard the voice of defeat. He heard the sounds of a man who had been led down too many dead ends or who had seen too many comrades wasted. He heard the sound of a man resigned to his fate.
'It will fall. You are not getting stronger. You are getting weaker. Your walls are crumbling. The enemy is reaching for your throat.'
Trevor found the eyes of every person listening and met them one after another.
'You are better than this,' his tone kicked up and he walked amongst them, touching a few shoulders along the way. 'I know you're tired. Your city is attacked constantly. Supplies are almost gone. The weight of the world is crushing down on you. No matter where you look, there is no sign of hope. So you have to stop looking for hope from somewhere out there. You are that hope. Don’t surrender your power to the monsters out there. Take that power and use it.'
Stone maneuvered to the front of the pack, curled his arms, and made fists.
'You were great, once,' he looked toward Nina as he said that. She nodded.
'Your armies were on the march. The monsters feared you. I say, make them fear us again. Let us pour out of these walls and strike terror into the hearts of those nightmares.'
He heard a mumble or two of approval. Just a little. Not much. But a spark.
'We can’t march out of here,' the instructor almost pleaded. 'It would be suicide! Don’t fill them with empty promises. The Committee has decreed that we are on the defensive.'
'NEVER! It is never enough to sit and wait for death. If death is to come for us, then I say, meet it head on! Meet it where it lives!'
'Easy to say, but we aren’t capable of launching attacks.'
'No,' Trevor agreed with the man this time. 'Not yet. We must prepare. We must train. Before we can challenge the enemy, we must challenge ourselves. But not like what I saw here. You do your men a disservice. If you don’t expect the best then they won’t be the best.'
'And what do you expect?' The instructor sneered.
'Victory.'
A simple word that dared not be spoken in a long time.
'And I will accept nothing less.'
The instructor shook his head. The other soldiers…they listened.
Brewer-his nose bandaged and his eyes cast down-stood among the group. Trevor walked to him and while he spoke to everyone, he looked at this doppelganger of his friend.
'You are full of potential, but you must set aside your egos. I know there is greatness inside you, there are leaders here waiting to rise. You just have to give yourself a chance.'
He stepped to the front of the crowd and said, 'So we’re running through this again. Blue Team, with me. Green team,' Trevor looked to Nina. 'Major Forest, you have Green Team.'
'She’s not an instructor!' the man who was pointed out.
'I don’t need instructors. I need warriors. We need warriors.'
This breech of protocol flabbergasted the drill supervisor, but he could do nothing.
'All right Green team, let’s go,' Nina called.
The soldiers glanced at their instructor, then to Trevor, and then followed the Major.
With that, the exercises began anew. Again, sloppy, but Trevor and Nina took the men aside and revisited basics; the fundamentals they had not practiced in a long time. He learned the terms of their army and introduced them to terms from his; the language of war translated easily.
According to Nina, these men had been briefed on Trevor's origins and they accepted him without questions. He purposely steered clear of discussing his world, he wanted to focus on theirs. He also did not ask about the past because it made no difference now; today was a new day, the first day.
On the second pass, things improved. The third time through, better still. By the time the fourth practice run began, spectators gathered in the gymnasium, some even joined in.
They fought through the building, and outside it, even charging across the gymnasium.
By late afternoon, he and Nina turned over unit commands to other soldiers. By evening a line of people waited to be a part of the war games. To be a part of the energy. To see the man who inspired the hard work: the man who looked like…no, it could not be.
Trevor felt their thirst for direction and he met that enthusiasm with correction and encouragement.
Nina arranged for the 3 ^ rd Legion’s Training Facility to stay open late that night. Trevor told her it would need to stay open late many more nights.
But it was a beginning. He had planted a seed.
13. Origins
The dual rotor Chinook helicopter chopped through the air with an oversized van-like vehicle dangling from a winch underneath. The helicopter slowly descended to place its cargo in an open field adjacent to a dense, black forest.
Ten days ago, Trevor landed a black-painted Eagle in that same field which, at the time, lay behind enemy Platypus lines. Much changed since then.
Now tents, water buffalos, a latrine, and the Chinook's cargo-a mobile bio-weapons lab salvaged and modified from the old world-filled the field and created a command post for the Science and Technology task force named 'Prodigal Son'.
If not for Hoth's costly-but-successful offensive, such resources could not have been brought to bear in the search for Trevor Stone.
As the General watched the vehicle lower to the frozen ground, he reflected on events of recent weeks, starting with the foolhardy decision for Trevor to lead the rescue mission.
Hoth's knowledge of history taught him to distrust the title 'Emperor,' but he respected Trevor Stone and recognized the man's focus on the mission and his understanding of the new world order. Yet he could not fathom why a man who seemed guided by the cold logic of this changed reality would act in such a rash manner.
This put those left behind in a difficult situation. They dare not announce Trevor's disappearance. Given the economic and political state of things back east, only chaos could come from such revelations; the type of discord that could derail the war effort that, despite Army Group North's recent troubles, went surprisingly well.
Casey Fink approached Hoth and reported, 'Sir, my casualty reports are piling up. Unless we get some armored support I don't want any part of Dayton. It's not the Plats that are the trouble; they're almost easy compared to all these damn hostiles infesting everything.'
Hoth replied, 'Not possible. We suffered a damaged-or-destroyed rate over fifty percent this week, the natural outcome when an operation is rushed without proper reconnaissance and with poor weather restricting air cover. What first-line armor I have available has been organized into a mobile screening force on our southern flank to guard against any additional Roachbot incursions. It seems there is more than one slaughterhouse in that sector.'
'We captured the ground we needed sir, perhaps it's time to slow things up?'
'I don't think we have much choice. We will focus on eliminating Plat stragglers and consolidating our position. At this point, it is not prudent to continue a general offensive. We need to conserve our forces for any
