Beyond Armageddon: Book 03 - Parallels

by Anthony DeCosmo

  The car sped away. Trevor took a moment to crane his neck up at the tall, green structure stretching toward gray clouds where a few streaks of dying, orange sun flickered.

  Home.

  "Trevor."

  The voice came from a slender figure in technician’s coveralls. She wore a cap and a light windbreaker. Even from a distance, Trevor understood he should recognize her.

  "It’s okay," he warded off his bodyguards with a wave.

  Hmm…is that Jolene? It’d be nice to see her again.

  "Yes, I’m Trevor. Do I know you?"

  The woman removed her cap revealing dark hair.

  He moved closer to see her more clearly. A sharp jolt of fear shot along his spine. His legs wobbled, his heart pounded, and he stumbled back a step.

  Ashley.

  In that first split second of recognition, his mind screamed she came across dimensions to find me! And I’m not going back!

  In the next moment, he regained control, realizing that this Ashley wore shorter hair and a scar. These markings meant she came from this world, not the one he had left behind.

  "You know me," she said. "Maybe not here. Do you remember who I am?"

  "You…you’re Ashley Trump. I once knew someone…someone like you."

  He noticed her trembling yet noticed something else, too: determination. Obviously this confrontation scared her a great deal, too, but she found the strength to see it through.

  She held a small package to him. He retreated again.

  "Reverend Johnny told me about your life at home, and they killed him."

  "This…this is my home," the guards stepped to either flank of their charge as they realized Trevor wanted no more of this woman’s company.

  "No. Your home, Trevor. Where you have a wife and a son. Do you remember them?"

  "Stop it. Shut up."

  The guards grabbed for the woman. She avoided them long enough to shove her package in Trevor’s stomach, he had not choice but to clutch it.

  "For your son, Trevor! For your son!"

  He alternated his eyes from the package to the woman his guards pushed away.

  Get her out of here! Get her away!

  Then he hurried into the hostel. A moment later—after they had successful warded off the specter that had come to haunt the Emperor—the guards joined him inside. Trevor moved through the lobby then to the elevator then to his penthouse in an emotionless, zombie-like gait.

  Both guards followed him inside and then he slammed the door shut behind, bolting it.

  Get a hold of yourself, Emperor.

  While the bodyguards made themselves comfortable in the living room with a deck of cards and a pitcher of beer (or what passed for beer in Thebes), Trevor went into the bedroom and sat on the mattress, staring at the small wrapped box Ashley's doppelganger had shoved into his hands. He eyed it warily, as if it might be a bomb.

  Afraid, Emperor? A tiny little box scares you?

  As if to prove his courage, Trevor tore into the paper wrapping and opened the cardboard box inside. He found a key card and a slip of paper with a message.

  One dash one, industrial sector.

  See what your friend saw. Go alone.

  DO IT FOR YOUR SON.

  A memory burst into his head so hard and so clear that he raised a hand to his temple.

  "Father, could you promise me that while you’re gone you’ll think of me every day."

  "Oh, Jorgie, I think of you every day anyway. You know that. But yes, I promise."

  When was the last time he thought about his son?

  You broke your promise.

  "Stop it!" Trevor shouted.

  One of the guards hurried to the bedroom.

  "Sir? You okay?"

  Trevor stood, pushed aside the guard, and hurried into the living room.

  "Sir? You okay?" This time the question came from both men.

  "I’m fine," he said even though he trembled. "You men stay here."

  "Um, sir, our orders are to stick with you everywhere."

  "Oh?" His head cocked. "Whose orders?"

  "Director Snowe's…um, sir."

  "And who gives Snowe his orders? Who?"

  The other guard spoke fast, apparently worried the wrong answer might mean getting thrown out the penthouse window.

  "That would be you, sir."

  "Good. Don’t forget that. It’s important you don’t forget that, understand?"

  He grabbed a jacket, slipped it over his battle suit, and headed for the elevator. His hands fidgeted as he moved. Part of him screamed that he should burn the note and throw away the key card and forget he had ever seen the phantom of Ashley Trump in this universe.

  Once he reached the lobby he told the guard there, "I need ground transportation."

  "Yes, sir. To where?"

  Trevor snarled, "None of your damn business!"

  The sentry gulped and meekly pointed out, "Sir, I, um, need to have a general idea so I can hand the job off to the appropriate transportation hub."

  Stone huffed, "Okay. I need a ride to the…to the industrial sector," Stone studied the man’s reaction. As far as the guard was concerned, Trevor might as well have said Third Legion HQ or the Ops Center. It seemed to make no difference.

  Five minutes later a car arrived. Trevor gave the driver the exact directions.

  "Do you know where one-dash-one in the industrial sector is?"

  Again, the driver showed no concern. Apparently the Ashley of this world was the only one who thought any of this was a big deal.

  Trevor relaxed. Why so anxious? This was his world now. It belonged to him.

  I own it.

  ---

  Minutes after Trevor Stone departed, Major Forest parked at the curb in front of the skyscraper hotel. She slipped out of the sleek coupe and entered the tall building, rode the elevator to the penthouse, and entered the suite she shared with the Emperor, walking in on the two body guards in the midst of a conversation.

  "Should we call someone?"

  "Yeah, well, Snowe might be pissed if we don’t."

  "Director Snowe might be pissed if you don’t do what?" She surprised them.

  They did not have to speak, their wide-eyes and pale complexions told the story.

  She nearly screamed, "Where is he? Where did he go?"

  "I don’t know. Some girl started bothering him outside and gave him something. Really freaked him out. Next thing we know he’s telling us to stay put and heading out the door."

  "What? What lady?"

  "Don’t know. We just told her to get off, figured she was a crazed fan or something. Never saw her before. She was wearing techies, dark hair. She acted like she knew him but I've never seen her around him before."

  Nina’s eyes worked side to side as her mind calculated. As she found one potential, terrifying answer, she raced out of the room and down the elevator to the sentry in the lobby.

  "Trevor. Did he come down here a few minutes ago? Did he leave again?"

  "Yes, he asked for ground transportation."

  She leaned in close to his face.

  "To where?"

  "Industrial Sector. That’s all he said."

  That was enough. Nina put the puzzle pieces together. Panic sprouted in the center of her stomach and spread through her entire body. If she hurried, if she were fast, maybe she could keep everything from tumbling down.

  Nina bolted out the front door knowing that the race was on.

  ---

  Twilight turned into darkness. With nightfall came a sharp chill, part of a moist wind that suggested a rainstorm approached.

  Trevor’s taxi pulled away, leaving him on a street to the south of the wide, long building that resembled an industrial cathedral made from metal.

  A dusty taste of soot and a sour smell of combustible fuels filled the air. He heard a steady drone; the drone of machinery at work, machinery producing the supplies keeping Thebes alive and fighting.

  He avoided the front of the
building where he noticed activity on what appeared to be loading docks. Besides, markings on the key card he possessed pointed to the south side entrance. At the same time, he could not shake the feeling that he should avoid drawing attention.

  His nerves trembled anxiously. A part of him—a very big part—wanted to turn around, forget the place, and go back to killing aliens by day and partying by night. He found he preferred that simple approach.

  Still, he managed to subdue the urge to retreat, squashing it with bravado.

  I’m the Emperor! I can go wherever I want!

  Trevor approached the side door.

  Go back! Turn around!

  A security camera focused on the person who approached the side door, slipped a key card into the lock, and followed Reverend Johnny's footsteps into the heart of Thebes.

  ---

  Director Jakob Snowe sat in a windowless office inside the Operations Center scribbling another signature on another set of orders, this one approving the promotion of a junior officer who had served him well; one of his many friends well-positioned in the military, manufacturing, and administrative sectors.

  One of those friends walked in to his office after a quick knock. Snowe did not look up from his paper.

  "Mr. Director, security called. You wanted to be notified if The Emperor went to building one-dash-one. He was spotted on an exterior camera entering the building alone."

  Snowe jumped up and moved around the desk for the exit first at a walk and then at a slow jog.

  "Muster the men and warm up my Skipper."

  The Director joined the race.

  ---

  The room smelled of grease and cleaning chemicals. An eclectic collection of maintenance items—from mops to spare electronic parts—lay about the area in lockers and on tables, in corners and on shelves.

  He spied the trio of passages leading away from the room and felt as if he had accessed a sort of backstage entrance to the place. Those passages looked less like typical corridors and more like maintenance tunnels, resembling the type of hallways one might find running through a shopping mall behind the retail spaces.

  Of course, Trevor did not know which way to go. Thankfully, the sound of approaching footstep from behind a set of double doors directly in front of him made the decision easy: he pushed through a metal door and proceeded along a tunnel cutting behind offices and workshops. He walked in silent steps, moving fast but hiding all the same.

  Why am I hiding? I'm The Emperor! I own this place! Everything here is mine!

  Funny how petty that sounded when trying to convince himself. Yet he knew it to be true. From staked aliens to murdered Committeemen, Trevor Stone had purchased Thebes and all its people. Somewhere ahead waited another piece of that inheritance.

  ---

  A light drizzle fell, causing the black-topped boulevard to glisten in the street lights.

  Nina's car screamed around a corner, fish-tailing through an intersection in a fit of over steer. The squeal of the slipping tires bounced off the tall, empty buildings surrounding the lonely street. As she pushed the throttle, the roar of the engine sounded even louder.

  Her hands gripped the steering wheel. She bit her lower lip to the point of nearly drawing blood. The buildings on either side became one constant, ugly blur.

  Something caught her eye.

  Nina looked out a side window painted with droplets. Overhead, a Skipper flew by and she knew where it was going and she knew who was on board.

  "Shit! Shit! Shit!"

  Forest pounded her fists on the steering wheel then slammed the accelerator to the floor. The car’s rear wheels chirped from the onslaught of torque and propelled her forward even faster, but not nearly as fast as the Skipper.

  ---

  Trevor moved along a tight corridor. The background sound of grinding, turning, churning machinery continued at a constant, low hum.

  He passed supply closets and exit doors and fire control equipment and utility cabinets, traversing a labyrinth spider webbing through the entire building. Yet, the halls and passages, the door ways and intersections flowed like tributaries feeding a river, leading toward a central area. He felt it calling to him.

  ---

  The AATC came to an abrupt, rough halt on the landing pad atop building one-dash-one in the industrial sector. The ship had barely stopped moving when the hatch lowered open.

  Director Jakob Snowe and an entourage of well-armed faithful followers hurried from the craft.

  ---

  The car came to a halt outside the building. Nina swung open the door, exited, and ran through the cathedral-like entrance, avoiding a supply truck as it drove away from the docks. Two guards watched her enter but did nothing to stop her, a superior officer.

  Nina knew she needed to beat Snowe to the security control station on the upper level of the complex. From there she could track Trevor. If she could get to him before the Director, maybe she could stop this before it happened. Maybe things would be okay.

  As she hurried around palates and crates and drums, she checked to ensure her twin pistols were secure in their shoulder holsters, in case things did not turn out okay at all.

  ---

  The walls of the corridor became lined with power conduits and plumbing feeding into an eclectic collection of work rooms. From the few glimpses Trevor dared, he saw workers repairing equipment, patching uniforms, and inventorying supplies.

  Trevor wondered why he had never come to this building—or the industrial sector--before. On his Earth in his Empire—

  --old Empire—

  --he had gone out of his way to interact with the workers, the manufacturers; the people who fed the war machine. Without them there would be no bullets, no food, no uniforms, or no Eagle air ships. But here, in his new Empire, he focused purely on the fighting.

  The fun stuff…the stuff I like so much…

  After the assembly rooms came corridors of metal grates and catwalks, as if originally constructed to serve a temporary purpose, like scaffolding framing a building under construction. It felt to him as if the rest of the facility had grown outward from a central point, a point he neared with each step forward.

  ---

  Snowe led his hand-picked group of soldiers through a cramped hallway stepping over the frames of open bulkheads as he moved.

  Workers and technicians stepped aside. Despite his diminutive stature, the Director walked with the determination of a tank, his eyes fixed in a cold-blooded stare.

  ---

  Around this corner…

  Nina had followed the signs for the security control room as she climbed stairs and ladders through the building. One last turn remained but she halted at the corner when she heard a voice call, "Director Snowe!"

  Nina stood still, not daring to peek around the corner with Snowe and the building's security watch commander a few feet from her position, but she could hear well enough.

  "Chief, Billy, what have you got?"

  "Last we saw he was moving toward the holding cells, probably making for the core. But we haven’t spotted him since. Do you want me to put the facility on alert?"

  "No," Snowe instructed in a stern voice. "I want to do this quietly. The fewer people the better. Once it’s over, we can make up whatever story we choose. If we start making a lot of noise we’ll draw more attention than I want. Keep your people away from him; have them focus on guarding the exits. Don’t let him out of here. My men will take care of the rest."

  "One other thing, sir. My men saw Major Forest enter the building a few minutes ago. Is she looking for Stone, too? What are your orders for her?"

  Snowe snapped, "If she gets in the way, kill her. The little whore won’t have any friends left after this anyhow. Probably be doing her a favor."

  She clenched her lips to stifle a gasp.

  "Yes, sir. And I'll let you know as soon as we pick either of them up on cameras again. They seem to be staying away from the main areas."

  Nina steadi
ed her nerves and thought Trevor is heading toward the core.

  She had failed to beat Snowe to Security Control, but might yet reach Trevor first.

  ---

  Trevor’s feet clanged and clunked as he jogged along the metal framed corridor. Tiny bulbs offered alternating patches of light and dark. The air grew warmer the closer he came to the center of the complex. Beads of sweat peppered his forehead and soaked his arms beneath the sleeves of the battle suit. He felt a sort of electricity in the air, although he could not discern if this feeling came from the actual environment or his imagination.

  Voices came to his ear, a mix of harsh commands and forlorn cries but he could not make out the exact words.

  Trevor's jog threatened to turn into a sprint.

  Come see…

  The corridor emptied onto a catwalk above a long chamber. Below him, the source of those commands and cries.

  "Move it you dumb ass!"

  "Get over here! Yeah, you!"

  The sharp snap of a cracking whip; a howl of agony.

  Trevor slowed to a walk, his eyes fixed on the scenes of brutality playing below. Human guards wielding whips and clubs to beat and motivate Chaktaw prisoners.

  From what he could see, at one end of the long room entered a line of Chaktaw though a large archway. They carried boxes and packages of varying sizes. The prisoners then sorted the incoming supplies and placed them on larger palates that, no doubt, would eventually find their way to the loading docs, to the supply trucks, and to the people and soldiers of Thebes.

  Trevor did not know how to react. He had slaughtered an untold number of aliens over the years and sentenced some to dissection at Red Rock. But to use them like this, to torture them under whips and hold them in chains…this did not sit well in his belly.

  Perhaps this was why Nina and Snowe kept him sheltered from the supply side of the war; they feared he would not approve of slavery.

  However, he understood. Humanity lacked manpower and therefore required a work force to handle this type of—no, no this is not right. I shall put a stop to this.

  He resolved to have a chat with Director Snowe and Major Forest, one that involved the end of any secrets. Thebes belonged to him now, and he would know every inch of it.