Beyond Armageddon: Book 03 - Parallels

by Anthony DeCosmo

  The three Greens crept along a thin hall. Trevor darted in front of them and fired as he raced from one room into another. With the enemy packed so close together, he could not miss.

  In a voice that sounded one-part panicked and another part sad, the referee shouted, "Pickering! You’re done!"

  Trevor ran through the building in sort of a big circle, racing across rooms and allowing his footsteps to be easily heard. Clearly, this unnerved the remaining two enemy fighters. They started in one direction, stopped, and stepped in a another direction, then back again to the extent that they did not move at all; like rabbits caught in an open field beneath a circling hawk.

  After a few moments of this, Trevor stopped. Everything went silent. The Greens lost any initiative. They hunkered down one each at the two internal door ways in a corner room.

  Trevor exited the building on the far side and re-entered through an exterior door directly behind the two soldiers who kept their eyes staring straight as if their foe could not approach from any direction other than the two interior hallways they guarded.

  Instead of taking the easy shots and shooting the two soldiers—one man, one woman—in their backs, Trevor entered the room without making a sound. He stood behind the two unsuspecting grunts and glared up at the instructor in his hovering bucket.

  Nina laughed as she watched from the stands. Reverend Johnny shook his head.

  Stone then clamped a hand over the man's mouth, and put his gun barrel to the fellow's temple. Next, he marched his captive to the center of the room. The red-headed woman remained oblivious to the events behind her as the hallway ahead held her complete attention.

  "BOO!"

  The red head turned and fired, hitting the human shield. Trevor, of course, shot her "dead" a split second later.

  The match—the demonstration—ended.

  Trevor exited the building as the instructor’s lift came to the floor and a medic attended to Brewer.

  "Just a training exercise," Trevor spat as the defeated soldiers gathered without a sound.

  Trevor thrust a finger toward the outer wall of the gymnasium but actually pointed at much more. "There is a world out there that is trying to kill you. Do you understand? There isn’t any mercy out there. They don’t use fake guns."

  "We know that," the instructor mumbled.

  "Then act like it! If you die, here, in this prison of a city then everything dies with you!"

  Nina and Johnny descended the bleachers.

  "Our city stands," one of the soldiers dared, yet Trevor heard something in the heckler’s voice that kept him from breaking the man’s neck. He heard the voice of defeat. He heard the sounds of a man who had been led down too many dead ends or who had seen too many comrades wasted. He heard the sound of a man resigned to his fate.

  "It will fall. You are not getting stronger. You are getting weaker. Your walls are crumbling. The enemy is reaching for your throat."

  Trevor found the eyes of every person listening and met them one after another.

  "You are better than this," his tone kicked up and he walked amongst them, touching a few shoulders along the way. "I know you're tired. Your city is attacked constantly. Supplies are almost gone. The weight of the world is crushing down on you. No matter where you look, there is no sign of hope. So you have to stop looking for hope from somewhere out there. You are that hope. Don’t surrender your power to the monsters out there. Take that power and use it."

  Stone maneuvered to the front of the pack, curled his arms, and made fists.

  "You were great, once," he looked toward Nina as he said that. She nodded.

  "Your armies were on the march. The monsters feared you. I say, make them fear us again. Let us pour out of these walls and strike terror into the hearts of those nightmares."

  He heard a mumble or two of approval. Just a little. Not much. But a spark.

  "We can’t march out of here," the instructor almost pleaded. "It would be suicide! Don’t fill them with empty promises. The Committee has decreed that we are on the defensive."

  "NEVER! It is never enough to sit and wait for death. If death is to come for us, then I say, meet it head on! Meet it where it lives!"

  "Easy to say, but we aren’t capable of launching attacks."

  "No," Trevor agreed with the man this time. "Not yet. We must prepare. We must train. Before we can challenge the enemy, we must challenge ourselves. But not like what I saw here. You do your men a disservice. If you don’t expect the best then they won’t be the best."

  "And what do you expect?" The instructor sneered.

  "Victory."

  A simple word that dared not be spoken in a long time.

  "And I will accept nothing less."

  The instructor shook his head. The other soldiers…they listened.

  Brewer—his nose bandaged and his eyes cast down—stood among the group. Trevor walked to him and while he spoke to everyone, he looked at this doppelganger of his friend.

  "You are full of potential, but you must set aside your egos. I know there is greatness inside you, there are leaders here waiting to rise. You just have to give yourself a chance."

  He stepped to the front of the crowd and said, "So we’re running through this again. Blue Team, with me. Green team," Trevor looked to Nina. "Major Forest, you have Green Team."

  "She’s not an instructor!" the man who was pointed out.

  "I don’t need instructors. I need warriors. We need warriors."

  This breech of protocol flabbergasted the drill supervisor, but he could do nothing.

  "All right Green team, let’s go," Nina called.

  The soldiers glanced at their instructor, then to Trevor, and then followed the Major.

  With that, the exercises began anew. Again, sloppy, but Trevor and Nina took the men aside and revisited basics; the fundamentals they had not practiced in a long time. He learned the terms of their army and introduced them to terms from his; the language of war translated easily.

  According to Nina, these men had been briefed on Trevor's origins and they accepted him without questions. He purposely steered clear of discussing his world, he wanted to focus on theirs. He also did not ask about the past because it made no difference now; today was a new day, the first day.

  On the second pass, things improved. The third time through, better still. By the time the fourth practice run began, spectators gathered in the gymnasium, some even joined in.

  They fought through the building, and outside it, even charging across the gymnasium.

  By late afternoon, he and Nina turned over unit commands to other soldiers. By evening a line of people waited to be a part of the war games. To be a part of the energy. To see the man who inspired the hard work: the man who looked like…no, it could not be.

  Trevor felt their thirst for direction and he met that enthusiasm with correction and encouragement.

  Nina arranged for the 3rd Legion’s Training Facility to stay open late that night. Trevor told her it would need to stay open late many more nights.

  But it was a beginning. He had planted a seed.

  13. Origins

  The dual rotor Chinook helicopter chopped through the air with an oversized van-like vehicle dangling from a winch underneath. The helicopter slowly descended to place its cargo in an open field adjacent to a dense, black forest.

  Ten days ago, Trevor landed a black-painted Eagle in that same field which, at the time, lay behind enemy Platypus lines. Much changed since then.

  Now tents, water buffalos, a latrine, and the Chinook's cargo—a mobile bio-weapons lab salvaged and modified from the old world--filled the field and created a command post for the Science and Technology task force named "Prodigal Son".

  If not for Hoth's costly-but-successful offensive, such resources could not have been brought to bear in the search for Trevor Stone.

  As the General watched the vehicle lower to the frozen ground, he reflected on events of recent weeks, starting with the foolhardy decisi
on for Trevor to lead the rescue mission.

  Hoth's knowledge of history taught him to distrust the title 'Emperor,' but he respected Trevor Stone and recognized the man's focus on the mission and his understanding of the new world order. Yet he could not fathom why a man who seemed guided by the cold logic of this changed reality would act in such a rash manner.

  This put those left behind in a difficult situation. They dare not announce Trevor's disappearance. Given the economic and political state of things back east, only chaos could come from such revelations; the type of discord that could derail the war effort that, despite Army Group North's recent troubles, went surprisingly well.

  Casey Fink approached Hoth and reported, "Sir, my casualty reports are piling up. Unless we get some armored support I don't want any part of Dayton. It's not the Plats that are the trouble; they're almost easy compared to all these damn hostiles infesting everything."

  Hoth replied, "Not possible. We suffered a damaged-or-destroyed rate over fifty percent this week, the natural outcome when an operation is rushed without proper reconnaissance and with poor weather restricting air cover. What first-line armor I have available has been organized into a mobile screening force on our southern flank to guard against any additional Roachbot incursions. It seems there is more than one slaughterhouse in that sector."

  "We captured the ground we needed sir, perhaps it's time to slow things up?"

  "I don't think we have much choice. We will focus on eliminating Plat stragglers and consolidating our position. At this point, it is not prudent to continue a general offensive. We need to conserve our forces for any eventuality."

  Fink cocked his eye and asked, "You expecting something, General?"

  Hoth zipped his parka zipper to his chin and pulled the fur-lined hood over his ears.

  "If you were planning to attack our Empire, you might first want to decapitate leadership. From what I can see, General Fink, we have been decapitated."

  Hoth swung his legs over a hoverbike; another piece of invader technology usurped by humanity, and said, "I am going to inspect progress at the site."

  Two bodyguards flanked Hoth on crafts of their own as he sped into the forest along a recently-cut path of toppled trees and trampled undergrowth. Squads of soldiers and K9s patrolled the area around the access road, turning what had been a dark, foreboding forest into pacified ground as evidenced by the body of a massive StumpHide lying just off the trail.

  After several minutes, they reached a clearing in the forest where trees and thick brush once stood, but something had changed that.

  Never had Hoth seen a tree crushed and flattened like a flapjack. Yet that is exactly how dozens of trees appeared in the middle of the otherwise thick forest at exactly the spot where the complex Shepherd described once stood, the one that disappeared with Trevor Stone inside.

  He dismounted the hoverbike and walked among the science team. The ground was a pulpous mangle of those flattened trees and vegetation. Gory masses of worms and slimy insects had frozen after being fooled to the surface by the warmth of the complex; a warmth described by Nina and the Dark Wolves and one that suggested power.

  Professor Nehru—Director of Science and Technology on the Imperial Council—led the investigation. He wore a white parka two sizes too large, a knit hat, big gloves, and a ridiculous orange scarf. He paced the edge of the artificial clearing while consulting notes on a PDA.

  Other researchers spread around the clearing with a variety of measuring devices and scanners. That variety of equipment reflected the puzzle they faced in the sense that no one knew from exactly what angle to approach the mystery.

  A large number of K9 Grenadiers researched the area in their own way; they sniffed and scratched apparently under the guidance of Trevor's personal dog, Tyr.

  Hoth approached Director Nehru, overhearing the man talk to himself, his voice muffled by the big scarf. "Oh, yes, yes, certainly, yes. Yes, that is of course, yes."

  "Dr. Nehru. What is the status of your investigation?"

  "Yes, yes, I am thinking is—"

  "Doctor."

  Nehru faced Hoth revealing the stubble of two days without shaving as well as driblets of frost around his hood and scarf.

  "Oh! Yes! General, Sir! Yes!"

  "What is the status of your investigation?"

  "I am sorry to say that our status is very preliminary at this time, yes."

  General Hoth did not dislike Dr. Nehru. He did, however, have little use for sarcasm and levity and coyness.

  "Dr. Nehru. What have you learned so far?"

  Omar waved a hand toward the empty clearing. "Ah! We can certainly say with no doubt that the building described as to have being here is, most certainly, no longer here."

  The General’s ears filtered through Nehru’s forced accent to try and understand. When he put the words together, his eyes narrowed.

  "Doctor, I did not come out here to listen to jokes."

  "No joke, Mister General Hoth. I am quite aware that your sense of humor is not as much as would appreciate humorous interludes. It was of the first objective to understand that the building had first been here and that its absence now was a matter of fact and not speculation."

  "What are you saying?"

  "The building was, in point of fact, here at one time. The disturbance to the ground and surrounding area is consistent with the presence of a structure similar in the size and nature of which General Shepherd reported."

  "So…it wasn’t an illusion? Is that what you're getting at?"

  "Yes! Or, I should be saying, no, it was not an illusion. We have since ascertained that its disappearance is no illusion either. It is, as a matter of fact and I can say most assuredly, gone. Disappeared. Vanished."

  "Dr. Nehru. Are you telling me that your investigation has managed so far only to prove what my eyes can see? Time is critical."

  "Well," Nehru's heavy clothing sagged as he sighed. "I will be telling you that we know that a large amount of energy was expended at this place. A significant amount of heat was dispersed through the surrounding area. Your eyes will be seeing that, I would be imagining."

  "Heat? Okay. That implies an engine or machinery or some kind of chemical reaction."

  "Oh my! Yes! Very good."

  A hawk squawked as it dipped into the clearing from the sky, swooped over head, then disappeared off again.

  Nehru offered one more revelation, "Then, of course, there is the radiation which I am much doubting your eyes are seeing."

  "Radiation?"

  Omar nodded and turned his attention to the PDA he held.

  Hoth waited. As a few seconds approached a minute, he considered throwing the Professor against a tree to grab his complete attention. Instead, Hoth's deep voice instructed, "Doctor, I require further explanation."

  "Oh, yes, you must excuse. I am quite busy I am sure you are understanding."

  "Of course."

  "There is a residual radiation that has permeated the area. It is not harmful radiation, not at the levels currently measured, at least. While that is quite a revelation of interest, there is something of much more importance. I have accessed records from the Department of Defense that remarked on radiation similar to this. It is the only match to which I have been making in regards to this energy signature."

  "And that is?"

  Omar went through the effort to pull the scarf entirely off his face so that he could be clearly heard. A stream of frosted air led the words from his mouth.

  "Before the invasion, radiation such as this kind was found in trace amounts in areas of mass disappearances."

  ---

  A heavy door marked a choke point in the containment system of the underground facility. Anita Nehru slid a key card through the slot. A red light turned green then a heavy bolt retracted and the bulkhead slid open.

  "This next area is focused on Hostile biology," she told the tour. "Here is where we try to gain a deeper understanding of our enemies by examining them on a
molecular level."

  President of the Senate-elect Evan Godfrey, standing at the front of the tour of three Senators and feeling a touch of claustrophobia from being far underground, asked, "What was this facility prior to the invasion?"

  "Red Rock started as a Cold War storage and survival complex, primarily for records and artifacts. Apparently in the 1980s it changed to a black-box scientific research facility, mainly for dealing with bio weapons. In the days before the invasion, when the alien creatures started showing up, the government decided to convert it into a containment facility."

  "Trevor finished the job?"

  "It was discovered as part of 'Task Force Boom', the initiative to find and secure nuclear and biological weapons to use against the invaders. As you know, none of those weapons have worked, for reasons yet unknown. But with a little manpower we've been able to finish the conversion of this complex. I think you'll agree that the location is nearly ideal; we're surrounded top side by forest and wilderness yet only an hour drive from the estate."

  Godfrey asked, "Is there any reason why this facility is being kept secret? I thought Trevor was convinced that the public supports the idea of killing off every last alien species."

  Nehru showed the men along a tight passage that felt like a submarine corridor, albeit with higher ceilings and wider girth. They passed laboratory and office doors as they moved.

  "We study these creatures in a variety of ways, Senators, including genetic testing, weapons research, physical tolerances…this is nasty, bloody business."

  "Ahh," Godfrey thought he cornered her. "So you admit that if the public knew about what happens here they might not approve?"

  "Senator, most people would be put off by what happens in a cattle slaughterhouse, but that doesn't stop us from loving hamburgers, does it?"

  Senator Wasnieski, an older man from Delaware, asked, "You said this area is for Hostile biology. What exactly does that mean?"