responsibility.' 'You don’t understand.' 'Then explain it,' she invited, expecting a story she had heard many times. He held his hands aloft, clenching and unclenching his fingers in frustration.
'Over there,' his voice came in forced calm. 'The other Trevor…the other me…he was a horrible man. Vicious, cruel, even to his own people.'
She helped him along, 'And when the people over there gave you his same power..?'
Trevor closed his eyes and saw visions of alien bodies hung from crosses, the ruling Committee dying in the coup d'etat he led, the alternate Nina Forest fearing an abusive and controlling Trevor Stone.
'I began to turn into him.'
'Turn into him?' Her question did not ask for clarification, but suggested an improper choice of words on his part.
'That’s wrong,' he admitted. 'I let loose that part of me that my alternate had let loose. I threw away my conscience, indulged my every whim because I could. Because I had the power.' 'And who gave you that power?' 'Gave…gave it to me?' 'Power is never taken, Trevor. It’s always given.'
He nodded and answered, 'They did. The people of Thebes. The humans over there. But I did the things I did. They didn’t force me.'
'They deceived you,' Lori reminded.
'It was my fault. The truth of that other Earth still can’t excuse what I did. How I acted.'
Lori knew most of what he had done including many stories left out of the written reports; stories told behind closed office doors over lunch.
She knew he had shared a passionate and self-destructive relationship with an alternate Nina Forest, a woman he had loved on his Earth only to lose her when her memories had been stolen. In that other dimension, that Nina had unlocked his most hidden desires; desires hanging on the border between lust and violence, between love and possession.
Lori also knew Trevor had killed his enemies without mercy, only to learn that his crusade over there had not been one of a just people but of an unjust invader.
'You keep thinking you’re going to become that evil dictator?'
'I am a dictator, Lori. I’m the Emperor. I have all the power.'
'Your friend Senator Godfrey might disagree. He’s got a fair amount of power these days. Most of it you’ve given him. I guess it’s because you don’t trust yourself.'
Trevor stared at the ceiling.
'That other Earth…they weren’t different people, they just made different choices. What choice did I make over there that made me so bad? What choice will I make here, that changes me from the hero to the villain? Maybe it’s California.'
'But you’re so sure. You just told me that.'
'That’s the problem. I was so sure over there that I was doing the right thing, and I wasn’t. How can I trust myself to know where the line is?'
Lori shook her head and said, 'Things are a lot different here than they were over there. Look across this desk from you. Think about your life here. Think about the decisions you’ve made on this Earth. Think about your memories.'
'What are you talking about?'
'You have me, Trevor. And Jon. How different is Jon from the advisors you had over there? Your Jon, here, had to deal with his own demons, and it made him a better man and a better leader. You can trust him to tell you when you’re crossing that line. You can trust me. What about Dante? He’s on your case all the time.'
Trevor smiled. His best friend prior to Armageddon had been Dante Jones. In The Empire, Dante served as the head of Internal Security and he constantly questioned Trevor’s actions, but fell dutifully in line when decisions were made.
Lori pressed, 'On that other Earth, the other Trevor had everything he desired. Do you have everything you desire, Trevor?' He closed his eyes and pinched his nose yet again. 'The best advice I can give you is this: get over it.' His eyes shot open. 'Oh, that’s great, counselor.'
'We make mistakes. All of us do. It’s what makes us human. You’ve made mistakes, you’ve made hard decisions, and you’ve lost a lot. That’s what keeps you from crossing the line; your humanity. When you begin to believe that you’re a god, that’s when I’ll worry. Until then, I’ll place my faith in you, just like everyone else does.'
Stone relaxed in his chair.
She doubted her words could cure all his doubts and she knew that allowing him to vent his fears was not enough to make them go away. Her words, she figured, would sound hollow and distant in the middle of the night when he lay awake questioning his decisions; they would carry little weight when his armies marched into California and killed fellow human beings.
Trevor sighed and stood.
'You’re a real pain in the ass, you know? How does Jon put up with you?'
'Well, it helps that you’ve got him out leading armies half way across the country, so he’s not around to have to put up with me.' Her light hearted tone did not mask the truth in her words. 'Yeah, well, I wish I could say it’s going to end soon. California is just the next battle, it’s not the last.' 'You’re not going to stop at the Pacific Ocean?' Trevor told her what she had heard a dozen times over the years.
'This war isn’t about the United States; the United States doesn’t exist anymore. Mexico, Canada, South America, Europe. Those are the battlegrounds our children will fight on.'
There had been a time when those words sounded defiant. Now, after a decade, they served merely as a reminder of how great their task. 'Okay,' she walked him to the door. 'At least that means we might have Chinese for lunch some day.' He smiled, laughed, then placed a kiss on her forehead. 'You’re a good friend.' 'No, I’m a pain in the ass, remember?' 'Good friends usually are.' He straightened the black and gray shirt he wore, one that mirrored the uniforms of his officer corps. 'Big meeting next week,' he reminded as he grasped the knob. 'That means big decisions. Can you handle it?' 'I think so, yeah.' 'Well, if not be sure to bring me some Florida oranges for lunch next time. They’re hard to get around here.'
Trevor opened the hall door, sending a small breeze across the office. That breeze gently pushed one of the discarded sandwich wrappers to the floor.
Lori watched him go then bent and retrieved the wrapper, brushing the bottom of the desk as she reached; brushing within an inch of the small silver object stuck to the underside of that desk. An object the size of a watch battery but with a silver, wiry face.
She threw the garbage in the waist can and mumbled, 'Back to work.'
– Nina Forest stood in the dark amidst a cluster of White Ash trees, doing what she did often: watching and waiting. This time she watched a second floor window and waited for movement. Her task tonight revolved not around infiltration or assassination, but surveillance.
Unlike her combat missions, the rest of the Dark Wolves commando unit did not accompany her on this night. Instead, she waited alone. A disposition that, she had come to know, came with the territory called motherhood.
The gentle, peaceful gong of chiming bells drifted through the night, no doubt from the spires of St Anne’s over at Church Circle. Those bells rang out twelve midnight.
The bells, Nina suspected, served as the signal. A sudden squeak as the second floor window edged open confirmed those suspicions. A moment latter a rope fell from the tiny concrete ledge and swayed against the brick wall of the apartment building. Two young legs dressed in faded blue jeans swung over the ledge.
Nina’s heart would have jumped, but she knew those young legs to be agile and athletic. She had trained them herself.
Sneakers pressed against the brick and gloved hands clasped the rope, then Denise-Nina’s adopted, teenage daughter-descended so quietly that the professional soldier in Captain Forest could not help but be impressed. She jumped the last two feet to the ground, her sneakers made a muffled thump. The blond haired girl peered through the darkness. 'Jake?' A cricket answered. 'Jake?' Nina summoned the mother inside, furled her brow, and stepped forward. Her footfalls drew the girl’s attention. 'Jake? Is that you?'
Denise’s hand rested on the pistol grip protruding from a hip holster. There had been only one attack by hostile, alien creatures in the greater Annapolis area in the last six months. Nonetheless, the survivors of the post-
