Anthony DeCosmo - Beyond Armageddon 04

by Schism

  Dante smiled, “Yeah, I thought we might have a little chat before the big vote and all.”

  The car drove along the dirt road kicking up a cloud of dust.

  “I sense you have something to say, Dante, so out with it.”

  As usual, Eva Rheimmer got straight to the point. The council learned long ago that this gray-haired woman suffered no bull shit.

  “Well, it’s like this. I’m not really good at this whole campaigning thing, but I just thought I’d let you know that I’m throwing my hat, you know, in the ring for this whole Emperor thing. Not that I like that title and all, you know”

  “I see.”

  “I don’t want to know how you might vote, Eva, but I know that most people are thinking there’s only Jon and Gordon in the running. I didn’t want it myself, either, but I don’t trust Knox as the head honcho and I’m thinking Jon doesn’t really want it.”

  “And why should I vote for you”

  “I was Trevor’s friend since he was a kid, I’ve been in charge of I.S. for ten years now and you know that Internal Security is involved in just about everything, from the war to guarding your farms and all that. Like I said, it isn’t something I used to think a lot about, but now that I do I see I’ve got the experience this job needs. Oh and it helps that I’ve got friends in the Senate, too. I think Jon or Gordon will have a real tough time with them.”

  Eva glanced out the window, but still listened as Dante finished his sales pitch.

  “Besides, like I said, most people think there are only two choices. I’m not going to put any pressure on you. Just think of me as another choice.”

  * * *

  “Daddy! Look what I drew!”

  Jon Brewer worked the button on a cuff of his dress uniform and leaned over the breakfast table for a closer look at the piece of construction paper in front of his eight-year-old daughter. He saw a flower with four big petals in four different colors, a purple stem, and some kind of scraggly lines-maybe a butterfly-sitting on top.

  “Wow, that’s good. Now your mom said to go brush your teeth and get ready for school.”

  “But dad, school is just about over for the summer.”

  “Right. Just about over. Not over. Now hustle along.”

  His dark-haired daughter scrambled off, passing her mother as Lori approached the kitchen dressed in a business suit.

  “Alright, you ready for the big day”

  Jon shook his head and told her, “I can’t wait to get all this off my shoulders.”

  “Get what”

  “This whole leadership thing.”

  Lori searched through her purse for her identification card. Security would be even tighter at the estate today with the entire council convening. As she rummaged through her purse, Lori said, “What makes you think you won’t win the vote You’re the only one on the council who has any experience at the top. That means something.”

  Jon burst into a short, sardonic chuckle and replied, “Experience Yeah, I’ve got experience. I screwed things up.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Lori abandoned her search for a moment, stepped to her husband and threw her arms around his shoulders in her classic pep-talk maneuver. “Hey, you know I’m the first one to tell you you’re an asshole when, well, when you’re an asshole.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “That was a hard situation before. This is hard, too, but who else on the council is fit to be in charge”

  Jon shrugged and answered, “Gordon. Maybe even Evan.”

  Lori spat, “No one is going to vote for Evan, you can count on that.”

  “Oh yeah Why is that”

  “It’d be a slap on the face to Trevor, after those two went head to head all the time.”

  “Remember, Trevor was on his way to patch things up with Evan when it, you know, happened. Evan has been President of the Senate for a while now. He knows how to get things done. He’s got friends in the labor unions and that could help get the economy moving again.”

  “Oh, I get it, you just want to make sure you don’t have the responsibility, is that it”

  He pulled her arms from his shoulders.

  “I never wanted this kind of responsibility. It’s not who I am. Besides, I can’t handle all the crap that’s going on out there: inflation, strikes, political bull shit. That’s not me.”

  “Trevor never wanted the responsibility either, but he did it because he was right for it.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Like I said, no one is going to vote for me. And if they were to ask me, I’d tell them not to.”

  He turned away from her to work on the other cuff. Lori considered for a moment, then walked up behind him and put her arms around her husband in a soft hug.

  “You’re a good man, Jon Brewer. I love you.”

  Jon, a fan of Clint Eastwood in the old world cinema, repeated one of his favorite Dirty Harry lines: “A good man always knows his limitations.”

  * * *

  The full council gathered in the basement of the estate: Evan Godfrey, Anita and Omar Nehru; Dr. Maple; Gordon Knox; and Eva Rheimmer all sitting around the table as Jon and Lori Brewer descended the basement stairs. After a few minutes, Dante Jones and Brett Stanton came down together, thus opening the meeting.

  All ten sat in their usual positions, leaving the chair at the head empty although each of them knew that in a few minutes someone would earn the right to sit there.

  Jon got things started, “We all know the procedure. I’ve placed paper ballots at each of your chairs. Those ballots hold the names of all council members. Circle the person of your choice, only one vote per ballot. Please do not abstain, this is too important. Also, this is a confidential vote, so there shouldn’t be anything to say at this point. When everyone is finished, I’ll pass around a box for you to put them in. Then I will pull the votes from the container and hold them up for everyone to see. The results of this vote are final, barring a tie in which case we will vote again. The person who wins this vote will immediately assume the responsibilities of the Emperor from this moment forward.”

  Jon glanced toward Evan, expecting some kind of outburst. To the contrary, Evan sat quiet with his arm in a sling.

  “Okay then, mark your ballots.”

  Each of the council members examined the small paper at their place. Most marked that paper fast and folded it. A few, such as Eva Rheimmer, Brett Stanton, and Anita Nehru took considerably more time.

  Jon circled the name of Gordon Knox, folded the paper and waited. When he saw everyone had finished, he placed his ballot inside a small square box and passed it around the table. A minute later the box returned to him.

  His hand trembled as he pulled the first paper ballot, glanced at it, then unfolded it completely and showed the table, “Gordon Knox.”

  Gordon folded his hands over his chest and leaned back slightly in his chair.

  Jon opened the next ballot and, to his surprise, read, “Jon Brewer.”

  The process continued with, “Gordon Knox”

  Knox struggled to suppress a smile. Evan, on the other hand, grew a shade pale. The following ballot, however, caused Knox’s smile to fade.

  “Jon Brewer.”

  Then, to the surprise of most and the delight of Evan, Jon read, “Dante Jones.”

  A moment later, Jon pulled the next ballot. His face twisted as he read it silently at first but he caught himself in time to read the vote aloud with a straight face: “Omar Nehru.”

  Omar burst a big grin, nearly dropped the smoke hanging from his mouth, and shouted to his wife, “Oh! Thank you honey!”

  Anita flashed a half-hearted smile then returned her eyes to the table in front of her place.

  Lori Brewer placed a hand over her mouth to stifle a chuckle. Gordon’s chair made a thump as he leaned forward and stared intensely at the ballot box.

  Jon pulled out the next paper and read, “Gordon Knox.”

  Evan glanced at Dante. The two fidgeted. Gordon eased slightl
y in his chair as he had taken a three to two lead over Jon Brewer with Dante and Omar each receiving one vote.

  The next ballot, however, evened things up. The temporary leader swallowed hard before reading his name, “Jon Brewer.”

  Gordon bit his lower lip.

  Jon grasped the next ballot with sweat building on his fingers. He prayed the name circled on the next paper would not be his. Those prayers were answered: “Dante Jones.”

  Gordon’s eyes darted across the table to Dante who sat there trying very hard to remain stoic. Gordon’s stare next found Evan Godfrey. The President of the Senate appeared rather calm with one vote remaining. Knox and Brewer remained tied at three votes a piece and Jones with two; the possibility existed for a three-way tie.

  However, that was not to be the case. The final ballot was pulled from the box. Gordon peered as if trying to see through the paper with X-ray vision.

  Jon did not have the composure to read the name on the paper. He held the ballot aloft for all to see. Evan Godfrey spoke the name of the new Emperor.

  “Jon Brewer.”

  * * *

  The office on the second floor of the mansion truly belonged to Trevor Stone, so Jon did not want to go there after the council meeting dissolved. He did not want to loiter in the basement, either, not when he felt sick to his stomach and certainly not with Gordon staring at him. He hit upon the idea of hiding in his wife’s office.

  Before he could escape, he accepted the obligatory handshakes from Dr. Maple, Dante, and most of the others. He had expected some kind of speech or something from Evan, but instead received a hardy slap on the back and encouraging words.

  “Good luck, Jon. When you get settled, we have to sit down and see how the Senate can be of assistance. As you know, I’m not in favor of this whole ‘Emperor’ thing, but I think the important matter right now is stability. Let’s stay in touch. I know I can help you.”

  Jon then retreated in search of calm before the scheduled press conference on the front lawn. He made it to his wife’s office, the old dining room on the first floor. Lori followed him in but before she could shut the door Ashley and JB entered.

  “Congratulations, Jon,” Ashley offered. “Be strong now, for the sake of the people.”

  Jon, still in a state of shock, merely nodded. Jorgie ran over and gave him a big hug.

  “I know you can do it, Mr. Brewer. Just keep things going until my father comes back.”

  Even if Jon had not been shell-shocked into silence by the result of the vote, he still would not have known how to answer the boy.

  JB pulled away. Before the two well-wishers left, Ashley told Jon again, “It’s all in your hands now. Trevor trusted you. Jon, be strong.”

  As the two left, Lori close the door. Jon broke out of his daze.

  “You voted for me, didn’t you”

  The tone of his voice suggested Jon planned to take out his fear and disappointment on his wife’s one vote. Lori, of course, would not accept such blame.

  “Alllrriiigghhty then, that’s how this is going to be It’s my fault There were three other votes for you. Even then, I figured Gordon would win. I never guessed Dante would get a vote, let alone two. But yeah, I voted for you. I thought I would be the only one after what you said this morning.”

  He paced from one side of her office to the other.

  “Oh, a pity vote Is that it I don’t need your damn pity.”

  “Yeah, well, you don’t need pity but it sounds like you need a good kick in the ass.”

  He growled at his wife, “I don’t want pity, I don’t want a kick in the ass, and I sure don’t want this! Who are the idiots who voted for me Didn’t they see what happened three years ago Is that what they want They want me to ruin it all”

  “Maybe people think that if Gordon Knox were in charge then we’d have ourselves some kind of tyrant. He’d probably slaughter the Senate and turn this whole thing into a fascist paradise. Maybe they have a faith that you’re a lot better than that.”

  He clenched his fists and pounded his thighs.

  “I am a General, a soldier. I am not a politician. I am not a leader.”

  Lori sighed then placed her arms on his tall shoulders as he stopped pacing and gazed at the floor.

  “Jon, don’t try to be the same leader Trevor Stone was. Do what you think is best, not what you think he would do.”

  “That’s the problem. I think it’s best for us that I’m not in charge.”

  * * *

  Three hours after the press conference announcing Jon Brewer as the new Emperor, the freight handlers union went on strike demanding changed work rules to improve safety plus an insistence on regulations against mandatory overtime.

  At midnight that same day, four off-duty soldiers were killed when an arsonist torched a popular military night club in Indianapolis; a caller claimed the fire was in response to the ‘military’ coup. Copycat crimes over the next two days included a homemade bomb detonating during a promotions ceremony in Bangor, Maine and bullets fired into the dreadnought shipyards at Pittsburgh.

  While Evan Godfrey took to the air waves to urge calm and restraint, lesser known politicians sprung from the woodwork pointing to the General’s ascension to the top post in the land as a sign that there truly existed a military-intelligence conspiracy.

  More workers walked off the job on June 12th in a wildcat strike at the matter-making facilities in Atlanta. This caused a shortfall in the supply of lubricants and petroleum products, which in turn ratcheted up the inflation rate to double digits.

  About half of the media remained optimistic over Jon’s election. Several did long pieces on his exemplary battlefield record and credited him with the development of the dreadnought program. Those same newspapers and broadcast stations recapped Jon’s voyage to South America aboard the Excalibur the year before, calling it a ‘heroic’ expedition into the unknown.

  At the same time, a fair number of media outlets attacked his election, citing his personal failures during Trevor’s absence three years ago and wondering why political leadership did not go to someone with political experience.

  While the level of panic and problems did not rise nearly as high as three years ago, Jon felt uncertainty simmering out there. He felt it simmering in his own stomach, too.

  Things changed on June 13th.

  Jon sat at Trevor’s old desk, having been invited by Ashley to look for any items that might be of use. He had the place to himself: Benjamin Trump took his daughter and his grandson to a movie at the small theater in Wilkes-Barre at the request of Jorgie, who seemed obsessed with attending a ‘classic films’ festival featuring The Manchurian Candidate.

  In any case, Jon found stacks of papers covering a wide range of topics, the sheer scope of which generated a painful thump in his temples. The headache forming there was interrupted when Dante Jones and Evan Godfrey entered the office.

  “Hey, buddy, what’s up”

  “Hello, Dante. Just going through some stuff. You two in town for tomorrow’s council meeting”

  Evan made a point of walking over to Jon and extending his hand (his sling finally off) but carried himself in a much more humble-perhaps cautious-demeanor than usual. His voice faltered a bit as he said to Jon, “It’s good to see you.”

  Godfrey then glanced at Dante and seemed to hesitate over something. Dante, however, said to Evan, “Go ahead, tell him. He needs to know.”

  “Tell me what”

  Evan thought for a moment before saying, “Jon, my connection in the labor unions tells me that things are getting out of control. I don’t’ know how to say this, but they sense a moment of weakness with a, well.”

  “With me as leader.”

  “I wouldn’t put it quite like that. But they do sense an opportunity to get concessions, both from their private employers and from government rules and regulations. I’ve heard rumors of at least another dozen strikes coming. The workers are trying for raises in the minimum wage, improv
ed benefits packages, stronger safety regulation, tighter work hours, and so forth.”

  Dante added, “My people are saying that the black market is growing, what with inflation so bad and all. There have been supply shortages in some areas, partly because of these strikes but also because people are hoarding stuff. I don’t know, but it seems like some people out there feel like the government is going to collapse or something.”

  “So What do you want me to do”

  Dante answered, “Hey, man it’s just info. We need to be prepared for these things. I mean, it’s getting pretty bad.”

  Evan suggested, “We may need to take some, well, radical steps to bring stability back to the economy and, I think, society at large.”

  Jon’s pride got the better of him for a moment, despite how little he wanted his new job. At over six feet tall, Jon towered above the other two as he got up from the chair and stood.

  “I’m not doing enough, is that it I’m screwing it up again”

  Dante calmed, “Jon, no, that’s not it. But listen to him, man. Everything is hanging by a thread and it’s all on your shoulders.”

  Jon took a deep breath and nodded, giving Evan permission to speak his piece.

  “Remember in the old world if you had a one-hundred dollar bill in your pocket you felt good Why was that Like our Continental Dollars, the old dollars were just printed on paper with ink. But right now, even the largest Contys aren’t held in much respect, are they”

  Jon closed his eyes knowing he could not avoid the coming lecture. Still, a small part of him welcomed Evan’s words. Maybe it was the way the man spoke. His voice sounded smooth and reassuring. Despite the economic chaos stretching from the Atlantic Coast to the newly assimilated territories in California, Evan’s voice suggested a simple answer to that chaos, if only someone would listen.

  “It wasn’t the paper and ink of that one-hundred dollar bill that was worth anything, it was the confidence you had in what backed those dollars.”

  “Oh And what was that”

  “The institutions of the United States of America and the confidence people had in those institutions.”