While Evan and Jon Brewer finished their press conference to announce what Gordon Knox thought to be the worst decision since the Bay of Pigs, the Director of Intelligence paid a visit to Omar's personal laboratory.
Mr. Nehru sat at a work bench wearing a pair of safety goggles, dressed in a white lab coat and—of course—smoking a cigarette. Omar wore something else that day; something he had been wearing often since receiving one vote during the council meeting last week: a smile.
"Hello, Mr. Gordon Knox," Omar stopped playing with some small gadget. "What is it I may be of doing for you today?"
Knox eyed the garage. Two technicians gathered in one corner playing what might be a video game and another closely examined a Witiko jet pack. Lockers, cabinets, display cases, and trunks contained all manner of co-opted gear.
"I need the item you were working on for me, Omar."
Omar's smiling face changed to a confused expression. "I do not understand. The war with California ended. There is no use for the device. Besides, it was only a prototype."
"But it worked, right?"
"Yes, Mr. Gordon Knox, it worked during the only test we ran."
"Give it to me."
"Um…well…if I were to speak in official terms then I would be needing a requisition from you to…to…"
Gordon's narrow eyes and red face convinced Omar he would not require an official requisition. The engineer removed his safety goggles, walked away from the work bench and retrieved a leather pouch from a storage cabinet. The small bag appeared to hold something about the size and shape of a baseball. Knox zipped open the carrying case and glanced inside.
"This is it?"
"Yes, yes, this is it. But I am confused as to why you need to have such a thing? The Witiko are all but gone from here, are they not?"
Gordon considered the fifty Witiko officers waiting to testify before the Senate. He wondered if those aliens would ever pass through the runes.
"I'm not so sure about that, Omar. And if the Witiko are going to hang around a while longer, something like this could be rather valuable."
"You are a confusing man, Mr. Knox."
Gordon told Omar, "I'm a big believer in insurance."
Omar's good mood re-surfaced as he quipped, "Auto policy, Mr. Knox? Home and fire?"
The Director of Intelligence considered the change in power. He thought about an Empire with Evan Godfrey atop the pyramid.
Knox told Omar, "Personal injury insurance."
---
Jon Brewer undid the top of his dress uniform and threw it over the couch. He then plopped onto that couch himself. Lori sat in the adjacent easy chair in their small living room watching the end of the special news bulletin.
A broadcast summed the day's events: "To those who have been watching the tug of war between the Emperor and the Senate over the last several years, it appears that match up has been settled, and Evan Godfrey is the big winner. There are many questions about the scope of his powers, but in the short term the most intriguing question is whether or not he can reach out to the pro-Imperial elements he has clashed with in the past and still maintain the fractured coalition of labor, peace activists, and political idealists that serves as his base."
Lori switched off the channel and snorted in disgust.
"So you handed everything over to Evan, just like that."
Jon placed a hand over his eyes. "Not you, too. Not now."
"Okay, you did what you wanted to do. You handed off the responsibility. Now what?"
He kept that hand over his eyes and answered, "Now Evan becomes President. He and the damn Senate spend months coming up with big long documents and papers that turn our government into a republic, like it used to be. The rest of us go on fighting the war."
"And you feel okay with Evan in charge?"
"Evan isn't in charge by himself. He has to work with the Senate, and he's got Dante advising him and he'll have a bunch of others doing that, too, as he gets settled."
"But—"
"No buts, please. I never wanted any part of it. I'm not Trevor Stone, nobody is. No one could take his place and do the things he did. I'm a soldier. I get to keep on fighting, now the people who want to play politician can do that."
Lori stood and walked to him. He still would not return her gaze. She spoke in a tone between sad and angry.
"Trevor fought all the time, too. One fight was out there on the battlefield against the things that came here to wipe us out. The other one was at home. Every day was a fight for him to keep us focused on the goal of winning this war. No matter how tired people got, he managed to keep us looking forward. So yeah, Jon, you're a fighter. But today you chose not to fight; today you chose to run away. Sooner or later you're going to either have to fight this one again, or surrender. Truth is, my husband, since the day the aliens invaded there hasn't been a middle ground. Trevor knew this. You do, too, you just don't want to deal with it."
He finally pulled his hand away from his head and met her eyes.
"I love you Jon. But today you let a lot of people down, Trevor Stone most of all."
---
Evan Godfrey slid open the top desk drawer and rifled through the pens, scrap paper, and notebooks inside.
He had trouble believing the day had finally arrived. There he stood in Trevor Stone's office on the second floor of the mansion and while he may not be Emperor, he might as well be.
He would be President of The Empire. No, eventually they would hold a vote and he would be President of the reborn United States of America. Between now and then he held nearly as much power as Stone had wielded, only poor Jon Brewer did not realize as much. Trevor had ruled with an authority derived from his actions since the invasion. People saw him as a savior and his initial bunch of lackeys pledged an oath of complete devotion.
Evan knew his authority came from a different place. He wielded the power of uncertainty. With only the vaguest of guidelines and parameters on paper, he could expand his authority as far as he cared. Oh, there were a few bumps in the road that needed smoothing, but as the reporter had suggested the title "President" might as well be "Emperor."
Trevor, Evan thought, used his power to create a cult of personality spiced with the fervor of a crusader. In contrast, with Evan Godfrey in charge, the people would not be wasted on some foolish crusade. Instead, he would help them build a utopia, of sorts. While perfection could never truly be achieved, Evan knew his vision of government and society would come as close to the ideal as any man dared to dream.
A 'normal' President in the old days might achieve one or two initiatives of note. But not Evan. Through the cloak of uncertainty he would command the authority to mold the new world to his liking; in his image.
Evan chuckled and played the past few weeks over again, enjoying the memory of each scene, of each victory, of each piece falling into place.
His fine mood spoiled as in walked Gordon Knox. The Intelligence Director paused at the doorway between the two Doberman Pincher dogs guarding inside the room, locked eyes on Evan, and then strolled forward in careful steps.
Evan, feeling the strength of his new position, did not let his stare waver. For the first time ever, he held the advantage over Knox. He planned to enjoy every moment of what few moments of their rivalry remained.
Knox spoke first, "Well, looks like you're moving right in."
Evan kept his voice calm, cordial, yet the glare in his eyes carried much darker overtones.
"I feel it's important to get right to work. There are so many…so many projects I'm looking forward to completing. Things I think are long overdue."
A grin flickered at the corner of Knox's mouth. "I wish you the best of luck, Evan. With everything you're contemplating, you're going to need it."
"I believe we make our own luck, Gordon. In fact, I'd say that luck is when preparation meets opportunity. I've been preparing for this for a long time, and now I have the opportunity to do the things I've dreamt of."
&nbs
p; "Just be careful, Mr. President, that you don't bite off more than you can chew. People who do that have been known to choke."
"Rest assured, when I put my mind to something I complete the task."
Gordon asked, "Is that a fact?"
"You can count on it. And let me say, your contributions over the last several years have been much appreciated. In fact, I feel a debt of personal…personal gratitude to you. Alas, with the restructuring I envision, I think your services will need to be terminated."
"I'm sorry to hear that, Evan. You know, Trevor came to rely on me. He could always count on me to get the job done. He knew what I was capable of."
Godfrey reminded, "Trevor Stone is gone."
Gordon grew a big, sadistic smile. His tone dropped and he spoke in a slick and smooth voice that could have been a wizard casting a spell: "Trevor is gone? Is he really, Evan?"
Gordon walked over to one of the dogs guarding the entryway. The perfectly black and impressively muscular Doberman sat rigidly in a Grenadier's version of military attention.
Knox glanced at the stoic dog then to Godfrey and warned, "I don't think Trevor is gone at all, Evan. Look close now. Look into the eyes of each of the K9s. Can you see him, Evan? Can you see Trevor Stone looking back at you? Watching you?"
Evan licked his lips and, on impulse, glanced at the canine. He saw the dark, obsidian eyes of the mysterious beast. He saw the power Trevor held over the animals; the way they did his bidding without question, the way Trevor had been able to communicate—somehow or another—with the creatures. And in those dogs he saw all the things about Armageddon he tried to ignore: Trevor's jaunts into the woods, nuclear weapons that would not detonate, the mystical runes.
Evan's eyes wavered for a split second but that split second gave Gordon a victory.
Before Godfrey could recover, Ashley stormed into the room in big steps. Gordon's evil grin disappeared immediately; he felt a woman of Ashley's stature should not be exposed to his dark side.
She glanced at Knox quickly but reserved her anger for Godfrey.
"Get out of here."
Evan's mouth hung open for a moment before he replied, "But my dear, my new duties require that I—"
"I said get out of my home. This is Trevor's personal office. My family lives on this second floor. I will go through the desk and forward to you anything of relevance."
Between Gordon's disturbing remarks about the K9s and the ferocity of Ashley's indignation, Godfrey realized he held a weakened hand. He bowed politely and made for the door. He stopped when Knox said, "See you around, Mr. President."
"No, Gordon, you won't."
With that, Evan Godfrey left the lakeside estate. He would never return.
Ashley and Gordon lingered.
"I should be going," Knox volunteered, but did not move.
Ashley stood in the middle of the room staring at the floor with her body sort of swaying in a mixture of relief at Godfrey's departure and unease at being alone with Knox.
"Gordon, you were always a good friend to Trevor. He counted on you a great deal."
"He counted on me? Isn't that funny. All these years I really think it was me counting on him. He gave me purpose. You know, I spent a lot of my years in the old world working some dirty jobs in the intelligence community. At first I did it because I believed in the 'home of the brave' and all that. Over time, I just did it because it was all I knew."
Gordon stepped closer to Ashley. She kept her eyes on the floor.
He continued, "But when aliens invade your world, enslave and murder children…well then you know you're on the right side. You learn that maybe there is a time when the ends do justify the means. That's my time, you understand? That's where I live. Trevor let me be who I am and still feel like one of the good guys."
She said, "You are one of the good guys."
He did not know how to respond and she did not have anything more to say. An awkward silence screamed through the room. Outside a car or truck or something drove around the lake; the chop-chop of distant helicopter blades echoed.
Gordon's hand slowly rose in the air and gently reached to her cheek. She closed her eyes and stood as still as if I hunter's knife touched her throat. For him—for one moment—no glass separated them. He felt the warmth of her life and knew her to be flesh, and blood, and real.
She trembled in what could only be fear.
He told her, "We each have had our bit to play in all this. The only difference is I've enjoyed what I've had to do. I think that makes me a bit of a monster."
"Gordon," she stumbled her words without pulling her eyes from the floor. "You're not…you're not a monster."
He felt that to be very nice of her to say. She trembled at his touch, yet she still maintained the front. Still played the role.
Gordon said, "I loved Trevor, do you understand? I would have done anything for him. With him gone I want you to know…I want you to know that if you ever need anything…"
He stopped, unsure how to finish the thought without sending the wrong message. Ashley was a work of art far beyond his station. To feel her warmth for that moment was as close as he dared ever get. Monsters did not deserve so much.
"Gordon…"
His hand retreated. "It's okay. I can be very scary."
"I'm not afraid of you," she lied. Again, he thought it very nice of her to try so hard.
"It is good to be afraid of monsters, Ashley. Fear is a basic, fundamental response to danger. It's healthy. But Ashley, Trevor sometimes needed a monster to do the jobs that others…that others should not be polluted by. The time may come when you need just such a monster. If so…well, if so, then just come catch a game."
Gordon pulled a small slip from his pocket and held it to her. Ashley examined the paper before accepting the mysterious gift. It was a ticket. More specifically, a ticket voucher for 'any event' at the "Miami Orange Bowl."
"I don't understand. You'll still be around. Evan will need an Intelligence Director."
Gordon shook his head. "I think Evan has enough of his own monsters."
"Where will you go?"
Gordon's eyes glazed and he waited several seconds before answering.
"I'm going home."
---
Ray Roos strolled the first floor of the mansion. He had already packed his bags and shipped off to D.C., his valuables from his home on the far side of the lake. He had also cleared out what few files, equipment, and paperwork he kept at the mansion and handed over all his important stuff to Tucker, who would handle security for the Stones for as long as Ashley and her boy would need security. Roos expected that that would not be long at all.
Nonetheless, one bit of business remained.
He waited until Lori Brewer left for lunch. The Chief Administrator of the Empire—who would soon serve in a greatly diminished capacity—left the mansion with her husband and General Jerry Shepherd, who had come to town for a week of meetings with the other brass. That brass, Roos knew, would soon be operating out of the Pentagon building in D.C., just as President Godfrey would soon occupy the re-opened White House.
In any case, he walked into Lori Brewer's office, moved to her desk, bent over, and removed the small silver eavesdropping device he had affixed there months before.
He stood and examined the electronic bug. He considered how one tiny little listening device changed things so much.
Ray smiled to himself, stuffed the bug into a pocket in his sport jacket, and marched out of the room. He had a plane to catch.
13 – The Day They Tried to Kill Gordon Knox
Three helicopters buzzed across the Potomac River moving northeast. The merchants and customers doing business in the ad hoc marketplace on the Ellipse south of the White House recognized the lead chopper as Marine One, an H-3 Sea King that had served the last President of the old world and now served the first President of the new world.
Two Internal Security UH-1 "Huey" helicopters flanked the lead bird as the trio flew
for the south lawn of the White House. An elated Evan Godfrey rode onboard Marine One accompanied by his wife Sharon, Dante Jones, Ray Roos, and a handful of bodyguards.
Evan took in the view from a starboard window. He saw the Washington monument—still scarred from Hivvan energy weapons—reaching into the sky. His skin tingled.
Roos, sitting in a high-backed chair, asked, "What's the first order of business, Mr. President?"
Evan answered the new Director of Internal Security, "We have a reception tonight and I'll be interviewing candidates for the positions in Agriculture and Science."
Dante had been sitting with his head hung low but the discussion piqued his interest.
"What about Eva Rheimmer? Or Omar? They've been pretty much doing Agriculture and Science all along."
Evan shook his head. "Yes, they've both done a great job. But like we discussed, Dante, we need to start fresh. Remember what we talked about; about not going half way."
"Yeah, I know. Just I thought it would be easier and all."
"I appreciate that, Dante. Let's just stick to our playbook, shall we?"
Roos said, "Well now, along those lines let me say that our man Tucker is all set to get Ashley out of the estate and down to their summer home. Then again, I guess you knew that."
Evan wished Ray had not brought that up in front of Dante but, then again, Roos had a way of trying to make Evan feel uncomfortable now and then, as if keeping his boss on his toes.
Dante jumped, "Ashley? JB? We never spoke about anything happening to them."
Evan calmed, "Easy, Dante. We're just moving them to their summer place in New Jersey. Like we talked about, we have to erase the estate from the public's mind. The new center of power is Washington D.C., where the Senate is, where the Presidency is. It's psychological."
Beyond Armageddon IV: Schism Page 20