Beyond Armageddon: Book 02 - Empire (27 page)

           
“We’re isolationists,” she explained further. “We ask nothing from our neighbors. We care not what they do as long as they leave us in peace.”

           
“You can’t hide from the world,” Stone told them. “You can’t hide from what is happening out there.”

           
Parsons led them to seats around a small table. As the four sat, he said, “Tell me, Trevor, how is it you came to be…” Parsons struggled with the title. “
Emperor
of this…well, ‘Empire’ of yours. I’m sorry; I have trouble with those words.”

“It’s okay,” Trevor waved his hand gently. “I’m having a hard time with the titles myself. The word Empire…it’s an old word. And I sure don’t feel like an ‘Emperor.’ No crown and all. But we had to come up with a name and, admittedly, I wanted something that would intimidate our enemies. Maybe I miscalculated how it would sound to our friends. Perhaps we’ll change it down the road.”

           
Parsons nodded and rephrased his question, “So how did you go from one of the survivors to such a leader? General Shepherd tells me that you now rule a fair portion of the eastern seaboard. How did that happen?”

           
“It all started very small, and grew from there. I had some help…” Trevor stopped and struggled with what he wanted to say. Shepherd felt himself lean forward, perhaps hoping to hear one the secrets; secrets about the woods Trevor often disappeared into, about how he could communicate with dogs and how he carried a library of knowledge in his head.

           
Trevor re-worded his explanation.

           
“I survived the early days. From there I found one survivor, then two. Then dozens and hundreds. Then thousands. Eventually we became more than a band of survivors, we became a nation.”

           
“With all of these people swearing allegiance to you?” Parsons asked.

           
Trevor nodded. “Yes.”

Doss tried to hide the edge in her voice but failed as she asked, “What gives you the right to rule so absolutely?”

           
“Results.”

           
“Results on the battlefield?” The answer did not impress the councilwoman.

           
“Yes, but elsewhere, too. We have a complex system of farms and food services, healthcare including vaccines and surgeons and diagnostic equipment. We even have a couple of dozen guys playing baseball and calling themselves professionals. I’d love to take you to a game between the Yankees and the Red Sox. Of course, that’s the Newark Yankees and Erie Red Sox, but the uniforms look authentic.”

           
Parsons smiled and continued to listen.

           
“Seriously, though, everything we have is yours. Let me help you.”

           
“We don’t need help,” Elizabeth Doss answered, but Shep did not hear much conviction in her words.

           
Trevor narrowed his eyes and said, “Tell me you don’t have children who die from illness that antibiotics or a medical procedure could have cured; the type of healthcare that was common five years ago. Tell me that your life expectancy is even fifty years old here. Tell me that you don’t have monsters in that swamp that come out once in a while and grab someone.”

           
“We shoot em’ if they do,” a new voice entered the discussion from the chamber doorway.

           
Shep turned his head and spotted a big man with broad shoulders and a freckled face striding into the chamber. He fit the description Cassy Simms provided of a redneck/beatnik hybrid, but the grim, angry expression on his face leaned heavily toward redneck. Shepherd felt himself tense, as if a fight might shortly ensue.

“Billy Ray,” Robert Parsons stood and intercepted the newcomer.

           
“It’s okay. I’m okay,” Billy Ray—the redneck/beatnik—stopped and answered. “I’m okay now that I calmed down my kids after a couple of jets shook our house.”

           
Parsons introduced, “This is Billy Ray Phelps. He’s our Sergeant-at-Arms.”

           
Trevor stood and extended a hand but Billy Ray did not accept that. Shep remained tense. He did not feel comfortable about Billy Ray.

           
“Sorry about that,” Trevor apologized and returned to his seat while Billy Ray retreated a step and stood silent. “Standard procedure for us.”

           
“No it wasn’t,” Elizabeth Doss accused. “It was meant to intimidate us.”

           
“No, that’s not right, either,” Robert Parsons contradicted her. “It was meant to show us that The Empire is for real. Isn’t that right, Trevor?”

           
Trevor paused for a moment, and then admitted, “It was important to make a point.”

           
“Like I said, to intimidate us,” Doss repeated.

           
Once again, Parsons showed his wisdom and answered, “No. It was to show us that Trevor here could have overrun our town already if he had so chosen.”

           
“We can defend ourselves,” Billy Ray bragged. “Couple of ugly bastards came out here on some sort of flying bikes last year and we pasted them real good. Big ugly things with big ugly mouths.”

           
“Sergeant,” Parsons hit the man with reality. “If Trevor here so chooses, he will send thousands of well-armed, battle-hardened soldiers into this town. He will strafe our streets from helicopter gun ships and blast our beautiful brick walls with shells from tanks, no doubt. You and your men could not hold off such an attack with rifles, pistols, and shotguns.”

           
“I don’t believe it,” Phelps growled. “Why hasn’t he done it yet if he can?”

           
Parsons answered for Trevor yet again, “Because he’s a reasonable man. Because he doesn’t want humans to fight humans.”

           
Trevor added, “I look at your town here and I see the life I want for all people. Besides, I have spent the last five years fighting aliens and monsters. Why would I want to fight other people? I mean, we’re on the same side.”
           
“Then turn your army around,” Doss said. “March back north. Leave us in peace.”

           
“We want to leave you in peace,” Trevor said and Shepherd heard the tiniest sound of pleading in his voice. “But I have to march south. We are in the midst of a battle.”

           
Smugly, Doss told him, “We’ve never seen battle. At least not on
your
level.”

           
Shep said, “I’d call that pretty lucky, if you asked me. Most people haven’t had that kind of luck.”

Trevor spoke, “I wonder how long it took before the Native Americans in
Colorado
or
Oregon
saw any Europeans?”

           
Doss tilted her head and asked, “Excuse me?”

           
“That’s what this is like, you understand. It’s like
North America
in the 16
^th
and 17
^th
centuries. Colonists coming to our planet, first a few, then more and more. They have gateways and they are bringing in reinforcements. Time is on their side.”

           
“I see,” Robert Parsons responded.

           
“No, I don’t think you do,” Trevor corrected. “Because if you truly did, then we wouldn’t need to have this conversation.”

           
Doss put a firm finger on the table and argued, “You say there are thousands of these Hivvan aliens not far from here. That they have ruled all through the south the past few years. Well we have never seen them. They have never bothered us.”

           
Trevor told them, “The Grand Army of the
Hivvan
Republic
is based out of
Atlanta
. They take control of areas by occupying large cities and turning them into fortresses. Inside those fortresses they have big transfiguration equipment, what we sometimes call ‘matter-makers’. This is the basis of their industry. Do you know who runs their industry?”

           
Trevor looked to each of them one after another and said, “Slaves.
Human
slaves. Yesterday’s college professors and bellhops and cab drivers are being worked to death in slave labor camps. I know; I’ve seen the camps after we’ve liberated them.”

           
“That’s terrible,” Parsons admitted. “But it has nothing to do with us.”

           
Shepherd heard the pleading in Trevor’s voice exit and a growl of anger slip in.

           
“It has everything to do with you. Don’t you get it? I’m talking about your fellow human beings. Fathers and mothers and children. Living in hot, dark quarters sometimes going for weeks without seeing daylight. They eat food so horrid that some have starved to death because they simply can’t stomach what they’re given.”

           
“I wish you luck in freeing them,” Parsons sounded sincere. “But our town wants nothing to do with it.”

           
Shepherd saw red creeping into Trevor’s face; pure exasperation, something he rarely saw from his leader. He tried to buy his boss a few seconds to calm by jumping into the conversation with, “You see now, your town has everything to do with it. If you just let us pass, we can complete a move that will cut off thousands of these Hivvan things. We do that, and we’ll be able to drive right down the road to
Columbia
. There are ten thousand human slaves there.”

           
Elizabeth Doss looked to Shepherd and said, “Find another way.”

           
Shep’s mouth opened but Trevor beat him to the punch.

           
“It’s too late for that!” Trevor stood. Billy Ray responded by taking a step closer to the table. Trevor went on, “We are in the middle of this operation. I have only a few days to complete this march. If we don’t, our enemy will escape the trap and we will have to postpone our strike at
Columbia
. If they escape then when we do attack, more of my people will die and by the time that happens more of those slaves will die from exhaustion or beatings. Do you understand?”
           
“I understand,” Parsons smiled to try to ease Trevor’s frustration. “Please, sit down, Mr. Stone.”

The Chief Councilman gestured to the chair and Trevor returned to his seat. Phelps eased as well, but kept his eyes focused like lasers on Trevor.

Parsons said, “I understand, and my heart goes out to those who suffer under such conditions. But tell me, Mr. Stone, why is it you keep fighting and waging your war?”

“Like I said, those gateways are pouring reinforcements in.”

“More than that. Get down to the basic reason.”

“Because I believe it is the right thing to do. I believe that by winning this war we will save mankind.”

“Yes! And if the—what is their name again?—these
Hivvans
win battles and have you on the run, will you stop fighting? Would you just give up?”

Trevor shook his head, repulsed at the idea. “No, no. We will fight. In the beginning, we fought when the odds were against us. We fought when it seemed as if we had already lost, when the enemy was superior to us in every way. So no, we will never stop fighting until we win or we’re killed.”

Parsons smiled and asked, “So why is it you ask us to stop fighting our fight? Why is it you think we should give up?”

Trevor stared at Parsons, the red draining from his face, the anger slipping away. Shepherd wondered exactly what replaced that anger.

Finally, Trevor clasped his hands together and replied, “I’m hoping you can make this small little concession for the greater good of mankind. You have to know that if I wanted to occupy or destroy your town it would have been done already. I do not want that, I just want to pass through. Is that so great a compromise of your beliefs?”

“Yes,” Doss said. “It is. We have turned our backs on war. We believe that if we let you pass through our town that may be the mechanism that destroys us.”

Trevor turned to her and said, “I find that hard to believe. This is not some religious cult. I see reasoned people here. I see intelligence. You can’t believe that some force of fate would punish you like a vengeful god if our army spends a few hours marching through your town.”

“Of course not,” Parsons answered. “It is a slippery slope, Trevor. If we allow your army to pass because we are afraid of the consequences, we set a precedent that you or others might use against us in the future. This is our way of life. Not a religion in the traditional sense, but as important to us spiritually all the same. What good are our principles if we forget them when confronted?”
           
“That’s your decision?”

“No,” Robert Parsons told Trevor. “Unlike you, no one person makes the decisions here. We don’t have that advantage.”

Stone closed his eyes.

“Oh, Mr. Parsons, an advantage? I would trade places with you in a heartbeat. If only…if only the luxury of sharing that responsibility. For me? Well, every decision is my own. No blame to share. No hiding from the face in the mirror. Whatever happens here, in New Winnabow, you will be able to say it was the group. For me, it will rest entirely on my shoulders. There will be no where for me to hide.”