Beyond Armageddon: Book 03 - Parallels

by Anthony DeCosmo

  She growled but her words carried no weight. "I did what I did for our people. We have a chance again. He can give us that chance. You’ve seen what he’s done already."

  Snowe said, "Oh, he's done some good, that's true, and just getting him here means we're going to receive a little outside assistance. That's enough to make it worth it. But remember, if he turns on us we have to hold up our end of the bargain. He doesn't go home, Major."

  She said, "You're hoping for that, aren't you? He's done your dirty work and knocked off The Committee. If he turns on us, then maybe you take over now that they're out of the way. You think the people will follow you? They love him for a reason."

  "The people will get used to one person in charge again. Eventually they won’t care who that one person is as long that person keeps them alive. Trevor has made a lot of friends but I still have enough friends, friends who were with me the last time and new friends, out there."

  She grunted and walked for the exit.

  Director Snowe offered one last observation for her consideration. She stopped in her tracks as he spoke, but did not turn to face him.

  "You know, I never thought your plan was going to work. The way you explained it, capturing the Trevor Stone of the other Earth depended on him racing to the front lines to save his Nina Forest."

  "Yeah, that's right."

  "Major…Nina…if you had disappeared here, our Trevor never would have gone running after you. He would have just found himself a new play thing."

  ---

  Across Thebes that day harsh words were exchanged and guns drawn, but no more violence. Trevor’s disposal of The Committee came so brutal and fast that it shocked any opposition into silence.

  With the coming of night, the change in the human city became visible for miles. Trevor turned on the lights and opened the shutters. Spotlights defied the heavens, street lights turned dark thoroughfares into bright boulevards.

  Thebes lived again.

  22. The Art of War

  "Whattaya lookin' at? You're all a bunch of fucking assholes. You know why? 'Cause you don't have the guts to be what you wanna be. You need people like me. You need people like me so you can point your fucking fingers, and say that's the bad guy. So, what dat make you? Good? You're not good; you just know how to hide. Howda lie. Me, I don't have that problem. Me, I always tell the truth--even when I lie. So say goodnight to the bad guy. Come on; the last time you gonna see a bad guy like this, let me tell ya. Come on, make way for the bad guy. There's a bad guy comin' through; you better get outta his way!"

  --the character of Tony Montana in Scarface

  Despite a few grumbles here and there, Trevor Stone controlled Thebes. He spent two weeks consolidating that control, relying on Director Snowe and Nina to spot potential problems before any disgruntled elements could organize opposition.

  The weather helped. Eight inches of icy snow fell on the city and surrounding countryside, creating a sense of isolation and making control over power and food distribution an even stronger tool at his disposal. Any attitudes that required adjusting found their heat cut off and meal credits suspended.

  As his grip solidified, he considered the big picture; a picture that involved dealing with the Chaktaw in a more permanent fashion and, eventually, turning his attention to the Geryons. Although Major Forest insisted otherwise, Trevor felt certain he could find more survivors out in the wasteland, or perhaps in alien slave pens.

  He vowed to find out one way or another and planned a spring offensive, a move that would require training and preparation.

  Much to his delight, Director Snowe and Major Forest saw to the details, leaving Trevor free to concentrate on grand plans. In that sense, he found this new throne far more pleasant than the old. Here, Trevor did not concern himself with supplies, logistics, industry, health care, or any god damn Senates. He faced no challenges from wannabe politicians and the people followed his orders as obediently as the K9s of his home world.

  In short, he focused completely on the fighting and not fighting with push pins, either; fighting with a gun in his hand amidst the storm of battle. And all with Major Forest…the lovely, accommodating, Major Forest…at his side during the day and during many wonderful nights.

  He organized intense training exercises, even blocking off much of downtown for large-scale war games pitting legion against legion, the victors earning extra rations and luxuries. When Snowe expressed concern over diminishing fuel reserves, Trevor assured that with the victories to come they would find and exploit more resources.

  The time came for Trevor to share his plan. He gathered his Generals in the Operations Center, utilizing one of the huge monitors to display a map of the surrounding territory.

  Nina’s people referenced sectors and grid numbers instead of names; part of what she said had been their Trevor's plan to forget the old. It seemed an awkward and inefficient approach, but since Trevor thought he would not recognize the names from this alternate Earth anyhow, he kept the system in place. Nonetheless, he knew the map they examined that day showed the topography of the area that on his duplicate Earth was 'Pennsylvania'.

  He also recognized the Great Lakes to the west, the converging three rivers to the southwest, and the Appalachian Mountains cutting across the center of the region. He knew the vacant old estate was a couple of hours east and that the Chaktaw came from somewhere to the north from what he thought of as New York.

  The geography was essentially the same, just not developed in an identical fashion, meaning he could not trust his memories of cities, roads, or other man-made points.

  Nina’s people did not talk about the old world. She explained they had gone to great lengths to erase many of the reminders. Again, she said the 'old' Trevor had introduced this concept to which the new one responded, "Who am I to argue with myself?"

  Again, he thought such an approach awkward and inefficient for them, but for himself it made no difference since learning the names her people gave to cities and places might actually confuse him more than generic numbers and sector designations.

  In any case, he told a technician to, "zero in on grid reference W-F Five," an area some twenty miles southwest of Thebes.

  "What do you see?" Trevor asked his assembled officers and confidants.

  General Goss—a white haired pot-bellied man who grunted a lot—answered, "I see steep hills and forest."

  "Look closer."

  Snowe said, "According to recon, there’s a Windigo living in that area."

  Trevor did a mental translation. "That’s what my people call a Goat-Walker."

  "That’s not what you’re looking for, is it?" General Gronard asked.

  "No. I look at that hillside and you know what I see? I see oil. Plenty of it. Enough to take care of our fuel problems for a while."

  Goss scoffed, "Bah! How do you see oil there?"

  "Because on my Earth that area was the site of the world’s first commercial oil well. So if all you have here is mountain and forests that means…"

  "That means there’s oil waiting to be found," Snowe said.

  "So?" Goss asked.

  "So let’s go pop that cherry."

  Each them gaped at Trevor, confused at the reference.

  "What does that mean?" Nina asked.

  "Um…never mind. Give me W-A Six through W-A Fifteen."

  The video map pulled out, scrolled, and then tightened on an area northeast of Thebes.

  "And then there are these guys."

  Goss: "Huh? What guys?"

  Snowe answered, "The Chaktaw."

  Nina said, "They came at us from somewhere up north. I mean, they’ve got to have a base up there or something. Right?"

  Gronard added, "We haven’t heard from them in weeks, not since their force got wiped out by…by Trevor," he nodded at their new leader.

  "Maybe the warning has scared them off," Nina thought aloud.

  Director Snowe said, "Recon units found a Chaktaw outpost in that area."
r />   "That outpost isn’t their main base," Trevor said. "They were using it as a staging area for hitting Thebes. If there isn't a sizeable force there now, there will be when they reconstitute."

  "So? So what?" Goss asked.

  "This is pretty obvious, don’t you think? Tell him, General Gronard."

  "We wipe out that outpost. It might lead us to their main base. Maybe take that out, too."

  Trevor ordered the technician, "Show me W-C Four."

  The monitor displayed a close up of what the map noted as a ‘Class Two Lake WH 3’ or what Trevor recognized as "Lake Erie."

  "I give you a big food source. Fish. More specifically, what I would call walleye, perch, small mouth bass and more."

  "One problem," Director Snowe said. "There’s a city in that area occupied by Duass infantry. They’re well armed with support vehicles."

  Trevor now knew that the Plats his people fought in Ohio back home actually went by the name 'Duass'.

  "We swoop on in, clean em’ out, and set up shop. Then we secure a road between here and there."

  "We don’t have the resources to do that," Goss objected.

  To Trevor's surprise, Snowe said, "I agree with General Goss. We should concentrate on the Chaktaw."

  Trevor ignored their objections. "Sure we do. We just have to work a little harder. And trust me on this, we start poking around out there," Trevor jabbed his thumb over his shoulder in reference to the world outside, "we’re going to start finding the things we need to survive."

  "Big plans," Nina said. "Maybe we should forget the Duass and hit the Chaktaw again."

  Trevor glanced at her. He sensed how thrilled she was to be a part of the meeting. No doubt another reason why she had wanted Trevor back. There she was, hanging with the Generals planning grand strategy.

  "We may reach too far," Goss protested. "I hope saying as much won't cost me my head."

  Trevor put a hand on his shoulder. "Now is the time to present different opinions. But once the decision is made, it will be followed. Failure to do that will cost you your head."

  ---

  "Team one, stand by, here he comes," Nina transmitted via radio.

  Ahead of her stretched a wide open mountaintop surrounded by tall, frosty pine trees.

  The ground rumbled.

  An incoming transmission reported, "Standing by. Damn, is this really going to work?"

  She radioed, "Corporal Brewer, just get your team ready to fire. You get one shot."

  "Copy that."

  Nina raised her binoculars and peered into the clearing. She saw puffs of snow pop off branches as trees swayed violently side to side.

  General Gronard spoke in her ear, "He sure is a crazy one, isn’t he?"

  "Crazy? No. He’s not crazy. He’s brave."

  "I suppose that’s why you went to the trouble of bringing him here. You're really walking a thin line with him, aren't you?"

  She replied, "Just make sure your men keep up their end and I'll take care of the rest. He might be our only hope of staying alive. Keep that in mind and we'll get by."

  The trees beyond the rim of the clearing swayed as if a tornado approached.

  "Watch your aim, Brewer," Nina communicated a warning to the man whose nose Stone broke a month ago.

  Trevor ran out from the forest and across the glaze of snow on the open mountain. Behind him, trees crashed and splintered as the pursuing monster stepped into the clearing.

  Standing some twenty-stories tall, it wore a scaly, tinny skin that occupied some middle ground between flesh and artificial armor. Its thick legs resembled industrial-sized support struts of a biological nature while ram horns wrapped its head to either side of a goat-face sporting glowing red eyes. Instead of hands at the end of two gigantic arms the creature used cloven hooves that could serve no purpose other than adding to the beast's power to destroy.

  This fiend appeared demonic in nature, certainly one of the most horrid of the invasion’s horrors. And Trevor Stone had just duped its Hell-born ass.

  The new leader of humanity’s war on this Earth crossed the field and stopped. Trevor knew that a dozen soldiers watched. A dozen of his soldiers; a new breed birthed from the ashes of a neglected army.

  So why not a show?

  Trevor turned and faced the massive monster. It glared at the puny prey. Trevor held his two hands aloft with one finger on each above the rest.

  "Drop this BITCH!"

  Anti-armor missiles shot out from the tree line, trailed by strands of black and gray smoke streaming from flares of burning red propellant. The projectiles smashed into what Nina’s people called a Windigo and Trevor called a Goat-Walker.

  The impact sent it falling backwards. Explosions knocked off thick slabs of skin and gory, colorful innards splattered onto the snow below.

  The soldiers cheered Trevor, the man who mocked the monsters.

  Nina's radio crackled, "Tactical team, this is Mother. You ready for that delivery?"

  "Ten-Four, Mother. We’re ready."

  The hum of jet engines drifted over the mountain top. After a moment, another giant came to the clearing, this one man-made. To Trevor's eye it resembled a large cargo airliner except with the center stretch of fuselage hollowed out in favor of a harness and hoist.

  It moved lazily, more like a helicopter than a plane. Its turbines rotated down putting the craft into a hover. Then the plane descended vertically toward the surface of the clearing aided by a soldier with bright blue directional cones.

  A portable drilling well dangled from the hoist and lowered toward the mountaintop not far from the destroyed giant demon. The engines roared as they struggled to ease the payload to the mark. The drill touched the ground and the hoist cables unhooked in a series of metallic clanks. Workers shouted orders over the roar of the huge cargo vessel that retreated to the sky after delivering its package.

  "We’re going to need a couple of days worth of oil from the well just to make up for the fuel used by the Heavy-42 to get it here," Gronard approached Trevor and said.

  "You’ll get it, General. You’re going to get everything you need."

  ---

  Three days after establishing several drilling sites they found black gold. Dozens then hundreds of barrels began arriving at Thebes via ground convoy.

  Trevor assigned General Goss the job of finding and blasting the predatory hostiles who disrupted the convoys, mainly a pack of Jaw-Wolves. However, the drill sites and convoys shut down for a couple of days anyway as a nasty early March snow storm ravaged the area dumping nearly a foot of grainy white stuff.

  Trevor turned the annoyance of bad weather into one gigantic party. He arranged sled racing and snow-fort building contests in the name of "Winter’s Last Hooray."

  Surprised at this sudden soft side, Nina wondered why he became so magnanimous. Trevor admitted that the partying served a practical reason. He wanted socializing; he wanted mating. If they were truly the last batch of humans on Earth, then the only way to save the race was to start repopulating the planet. That meant babies. That took social interaction.

  As was often the case with late snow, it did not stay around for long. A blast of warm air sent the temperature into the fifties and melted everything away.

  The time came to get back to work.

  ---

  Reconnaissance reported large numbers of Chaktaw soldiers and equipment, including artillery, occupying an outpost north of Thebes. Like so many of the structures on this Earth, the 'outpost' was comprised of mountainside buildings that came across as one part cave and one part building. In this case, those buildings were lined up at the base of a steep red rock hill in a manner suggesting an old commercial district, maybe even this world's version of a strip mall.

  As he led the assault from onboard a Skipper, Trevor found the situation had changed.

  Below, a column of infantry transports and armored attack vehicles moved north on a series of dirt and concrete roads cutting through forest-covered hills.
Ahead, columns of smoke marked the Chaktaw outpost despite the fact that no human weapons had yet fired.

  "Say again, recon?" Trevor responded to a message from a forward ground team.

  Corporal Brewer repeated, "Severe damage to enemy position. Perimeter barricades breached at multiple points, I have eyes-on destroyed heavy weapons and looks like a lot of Chaktaw casualties."

  Trevor turned to Nina. "One of the other legions playing games?"

  "No," she said with surety. "Not a chance. The Generals know you don't like games."

  She steered the craft in close but instead of making the originally planned attack run, Major Forest flew slow for a good view of the outpost.

  As the scouts reported, the flat stone lot in front of the mountainside showed signs of battle; blast craters, a rock wall smashed in several places, and the destroyed carcasses of Chaktaw vehicles and artillery pieces, some of which still smoldered. Around everything, poncho-clad bodies sprawled on the ground.

  The buildings of the compound sprouted from the mountain and had been constructed of some kind of rock, making Trevor think of the cliff dwellings of the ancestral pueblo tribes from the southwestern United States back home, very much like what he had seen at the lake when he went searching for Trevor's estate. What had been a rather isolated, regional architecture on his Earth had apparently gained wider acceptance on this one.

  Of course, style did not matter to Trevor. Who had beaten them to the outpost did.

  Brewer's scouting party reported, "Got some live ones hiding out on the western side of the compound. We took small arms fire."

  Trevor ordered Nina to, "Set us down by the west side."

  She complied, easing the Skipper to the ground between the ruined remains of two catapult-like artillery pieces.

  Trevor radioed, "Skipper flight one, fly a recon mission around the enemy base. Skipper flight two, stay on station overhead to provide cover for ground forces."

  Three of the flying machines banked off to survey the surrounding mountains and forests, another three buzzed about in the sky above with their missiles and guns ready to fire.