As much as he felt in control and in command on the battlefield, he desired no such position of political authority.

  Chants from outside carried across the mansion grounds and seeped in through the closed windows and doors: "No vote! No peace!" and "No More Dictators! No More King! Give us liberty…let freedom ring!"

  Dante Jones left the room as Ashley walked in. She wore a panicked expression.

  "My son. Has anyone seen JB? He went to get a drink…he said he went to get a drink…then he was gone…" Ashley nearly cried.

  Gordon roared, "What? Where the Hell is Dante? I told you! I told you, you should have brought in army units! Now someone snatched up Jorgie-"

  "Easy does it, Gordo. No one said nothing about Ashley’s boy gettin’ snatched. I reckon he’s just playing in one of the rooms," Shepherd placed a hand on Ashley’s shoulder. "I’ll go find him. Don’t seem like anything worthwhile going on around here anyway."

  Shep made to leave but stopped as a flood of persons poured into the room. Dante Jones and Evan Godfrey led that flood, followed by a camera broadcasting live and a perfectly groomed female reporter.

  Jon shouted, "What is this?" but managed to control his surprise enough to reach out and stop Knox from pulling his gun.

  "Calm down!" Dante yelled. "Jon, I let Evan in so you two could talk. Just…talk."

  Godfrey smiled as the camera rolled.

  "Jon, I’m glad you finally decided to see me."

  Brewer hesitated in the face of the bright lights, the crowd, and the understanding that his next words carried across the entirety of the nation.

  "Evan…you…um…"

  Knox interrupted, "Tell your mob to disperse."

  Godfrey would not be bothered or intimidated by Knox this day. No, this was Evan Godfrey’s day. Everything led to this. He had been patient, he had been resourceful, he had moved all his chess pieces into position masterfully. Why, he even impressed himself.

  Evan casually tugged at the lapels of his perfectly tailored suit and asked, "Jon, are you in charge here or is Imperial Intelligence running the show?"

  Brewer swallowed hard and answered, "I am in charge."

  "Good," the President of the Senate projected a friendly smile. "Then you and I should talk. Right here. In front of the people."

  The crowd in the room stepped back like children on the playground clearing a ring for a schoolyard fight. Even Gordon Knox bit his tongue and gave way.

  "This isn’t right, Evan. You’re tearing down everything Trevor built."

  "Jon, I’m trying to protect what Trevor built. I loved Trevor," the Senator made sure to enunciate those words clearly for the sake of the reporter’s microphone. "I am here on his behalf. I am here to protect his interests."

  "What? Wow, you really think I’m going to believe that?"

  Evan raised his hands in an unthreatening manner and laid his palms bare like a messiah coming to bless the masses.

  "Trevor prepared for this day, Jon. Why do you think he accepted the new Senate? As a means of succession. He never publicly named an individual to take over as Emperor should he depart, but he did help create the Senate and the representative districts throughout our great nation. This is what he wanted after he died."

  Out the corner of his eye, Jon saw Gordon Knox's face glowing beet red and his fingers twitching just above his side arm. He expected the Director of Intelligence might just execute Evan there and then on live TV. However, Jon saw Knox's eyes dart around the room, first falling on Jones-who watched Knox like a hawk-and then to Ashley, who stood dangerously close to any possible crossfire.

  At that point, Jon saw Gordon relax. Or, rather, stand down.

  With that point of concern brushed aside, Jon returned his focus to Evan Godfrey and the man's argument. Again, his mind raced and he absently aired his thoughts aloud, "This is what Trevor wanted, after he died?"

  "Yes."

  Jon regrouped and accused, "I think this is what you want, whether or not Trevor is dead."

  Evan feigned injury. "I have been the most loyal of Trevor’s friends," his voice was sure but calm. "I never followed him blindly; I always offered differences of opinion, because a true friend is not some yes-man dolt. No one weeps for him more than I. For the sake of the people, I would give anything to have him back here again. I miss his leadership and his friendship."

  Evan wondered if that sounded as good over the air waves at it did in the room. Sometimes there was a difference, he knew.

  "I miss you, too."

  That confused Evan. He looked directly at Jon, heard the words, but it did not appear that Jon's lips moved.

  "Guess it really all is in the timing."

  Brewer’s eyes widened. An audible gush of air echoed through the room as the assembled cast of players and spectators drew in breathes of shock.

  Godfrey realized the words had not been Jon's. He turned. So did the camera.

  Trevor Stone stood in the doorway holding his son, JB, and wearing a strange black outfit under a more recognizable army camouflage jacket. Tyr the Elkhound hovered by his side.

  "JB!" Ashley's relief came first for her son, the most important person in her life. As Trevor eased his boy to the ground, Ashley asked, "Where did you go?"

  "I went to meet father at the runes. You should have seen the look on the guards’ faces!"

  They were nothing, no doubt, compared to the look on Evan Godfrey’s face. His jaw hung open on live television, his eyes open even further. A visible quiver wobbled through the Senator as if he were made of guitar strings that had just been played by the devil himself. Sweat gleaned on his forehead from the camera light that suddenly grew scalding hot.

  The Emperor joined Brewer and Evan in the ring of people.

  "T-t-t-t-"

  "Trevor," Stone finished for the Senator. He then glanced around the room at his people. Lori smiled, Jon appeared ready to cry with relief, Knox's forehead no longer glowed so red, and Dante trembled from head to toe. "Relax," Trevor placed a hand on the Internal Security Chief’s shoulder. "It’s okay. It’s okay."

  "I reckon you’ve got a tale or two to tell," Shepherd wore his own grin even though he noted that Reverend Johnny had not yet appeared.

  Stone nodded in agreement then looked to Evan again. His eyes grew sharp as he grabbed hold of Godfrey’s right hand and shook it firmly. The Senator's arm bounced like over-cooked penne.

  "I’m glad I can count on your loyalty, Evan. I want you to know, what you just said here in front of the camera for all to hear…I want you to know that that means a lot to me. Really."

  "Ummm…"

  "So how about the two of us go and tell my people that everything is okay, that the big march is over, and Trevor Stone is back and in charge."

  It was not a suggestion. Of course, it did not matter. Godfrey’s will was temporarily on hiatus. He had suffered one of the heaviest knock-down punches in history, captured on the live cameras the Senator had gone through so much trouble to make arrangements for.

  "Ummm…"

  "Good. C’mon…it’s just over here," Trevor led Evan to the balcony like an orderly helping an elderly patient to supper. Gordon Knox smiled, pulled the curtains, and then opened the sliding glass doors for the men.

  Trevor addressed his people, leaving the organizers of the march shell-shocked and alone. They no longer controlled the mass. The people fell in line behind their beloved Emperor who shared hints about a fantastic but top-secret mission that revealed many truths about the invasion; truths that would help them march toward victory. He told them to go home and get to work, because there was much work left to be done.

  The cheers rang out from below and across the nation. Trevor was home.

  – It took Evan several hours to recover from the shock. In the time after Trevor's return and the dispersal of the made-to-order mob, the Senator sat in the basement meeting room paying little attention to Trevor’s tale of alternate universes, multiple Earths, eight races, and the loss of Reverend Johnny.

  After that meeting, the President of the Senate returned by limousine to his Wilkes-Barre hotel room. By the time he reached his suite, the enormity of his defeat not only sank in, but grew from a simmer to a boil.

  Sharon Parsons managed to force its release. When he entered the hotel room, she circled her 'husband,' her fists pounding at the air in frustration.

  "This is what you get for moving too slow! I told you to move faster! But you had to weave your web and make your plans. Now look at you! You outsmarted yourself, Evan! You had to play tennis and talk to the labor guild and have your covert meetings and dinner parties! If you had grabbed power when all this started it would have been your guards in the cave when Trevor came through! He never would have made it to the estate!"

  Evan stood still in the middle of the suite, surprised how neat his suit remained after going through so much in one day.

  "You’re a failure, Evan! You think you’re so smart but you’re gutless and weak-"

  Sharon lost her voice with a sudden, hard thud. She spun and fell to the floor.

  Evan hovered over her with his fist cocked.

  Sharon rolled away and turned to escape. He grabbed and threw her against the wall, one had clamped over her throat.

  "You…shut up."

  "Evan, so you’re strong enough to hit your wife."

  "Don’t play games, Sharon. Not now. I’m not in the mood for games any more."

  A dribble of blood dripped from her busted lip. That did not stop her. She had tasted her own blood drawn from the fist of a husband before.

  "You played games, Evan. That’s why you’re not in power right now. That’s why they’re laughing at you. That’s why Trevor is stronger than ever."

  "No more games," he grumbled.

  "What are you going to do? What can you do?"

  "It was mine! All mine! I planned it perfectly!"

  "And he ruined it," she said even as he pinned her against the wall with his fingers on her neck. "He always outthinks you, Evan. Doesn’t he? You were patient, but you got burned. You played nice, and now you lost again. Poor Evan, maybe you should just give up."

  He shook her head, the back of which hit off the wall. She ignored the pain. She received lumps before, too.

  "Never! I’m never going to give up! Even if I have to…if I have to…"

  Sharon Parsons hissed, "Kill him?"

  Everything stopped. Evan’s hand released. Sharon eased and brushed her hand across her mouth to swipe away blood.

  Evan did not look at her. Instead he gazed into the future.

  "Even if I have to kill him."

  – Trevor walked out of his son’s room, paused, and peeked back inside one more time. He saw JB curled in bed with a smile on his tired face and his arms wrapped around his plush bunny stuffed in a tiny blanket.

  Ashley met Trevor in the hall. They walked together along the corridor, passed the guard dogs, and into the main office. A pair of lanterns lighted the room while a brighter light eased into the chamber from the adjacent bedroom.

  His work desk was there, of course. On top of that wide desk waited a map, complete with push pins and markers.

  "I’m glad you’re home," Ashley said as they stopped next to that desk.

  "Yeah," he conceded. "I’m glad I’m home, too."

  His finger traced the map. He felt her eyes staring at him and he felt something else, too. He felt a change in the wind.

  "I know," his pseudo-wife spoke with a sad calm.

  "You…know?"

  "I know about your life during that year I was gone."

  Trevor returned her stare but his body felt out of balance to the point that he thought he swayed a little.

  Ashley went on, "And I know where you’ve been. I can figure out why it took you so long to come home. I can pretty much guess what you’ve been doing, too."

  "Ashley, I-"

  "Don’t. Just don’t. There really is nothing to say, is there?"

  He opened his mouth, paused, and then shut it.

  "You are an important man, Trevor Stone. And we have a very special little boy. And I realize…I realize that I have a part to play in all that, too. I’m a mother, not only to JB but to the people. I am the Emperor’s wife for all to see, yet not the woman you desire."

  In her eyes, Trevor saw strength. Resolve. Something he never would have guessed he could have found in the pampered Ashley of the pre-Armageddon world.

  "I understand why you're not with her. I will keep the secret. What good would it do to tell?"

  She did not really expect an answer. He did not have one, anyway.

  "I will stay here, in the mansion, with you. I will dance with you at official receptions and I will always smile and hold your hand. Together we will raise our son and he need never know the truth. At night, the people will see us retire to our home. They do not need to know that while we may share the same bed, I shall no longer share my…my heart with you. We will be together, but alone."

  "Ashley…"

  "I will be your wife for show, for the good of The Empire. But I will not be your concubine. If there is no love between us, then there will be no love between us."

  Trevor did not know what to say. Even if he could think of words, he would remain silent. Ashley had earned the right to speak. He owed her that much, at least.

  "You have my sympathy. For what happened…I…I understand. I don’t blame you. But I can’t cry for you, Trevor. I’m saving my tears for myself."

  – Catherine Nina Brewer slept safe in her bed. Jon and Lori sat in front of a silent television in the glow of a candle, each holding a glass of wine.

  Jon had had enough television for one day. Lori wondered if her husband had had enough talking, too. He had been silent for several minutes.

  "You okay?"

  "Huh?" He pulled himself from a trance.

  "I guess that answers that question."

  "I messed up," he confessed. "I really, I mean really, screwed up."

  "Hey, wait, Trevor’s back. All’s well, right?"

  Jon shook his head. "Wrong. Things almost fell apart. God, when I think about what almost happened, maybe I…maybe…"

  "Maybe you should have let Gordon kill off Evan?"

  The very suggestion tasted bitter to Jon.

  "What? Are you crazy?"

  "Allrrigghty then…what? What should you have done?"

  General Brewer rested his glass on the coffee table.

  "I’m a soldier."

  "Know that already. Next?"

  He tried to understand it himself as he explained, "What I mean, I’m a leader on the battlefield. I can see how fights shape up. I can sort of think like my enemy now and then."

  "Okay. So what are you saying?"

  "I’m saying I’m a soldier, not a politician. Trevor is kind of both. Evan is a politician."

  "And an asshole."

  "You can’t blame him, Lori. What happened wasn’t his fault. He was kind of right. We didn’t know if Trevor was alive. I mean, I think we all thought he was-wow-dead."

  "So? What is it you’re trying to say?"

  Jon placed a casual hand on her leg.

  "Someday Trevor isn’t going to come back. Someday he’s going to be dead. Someday some one is going to have to deal with what we do after Trevor Stone."

  "And what is it we do after Trevor Stone?"

  Jon sighed. "I think…I think we’re going to have to listen to people like Evan Godfrey. What almost happened today, it could have been a civil war. Next time we can’t let it get out of control like that."

  – The fire crackled and its radius of light illuminated the dry stream bed in the middle of the forest. While Trevor figured that the flames were some kind of illusion, the heat they threw felt real, even if that heat was not needed on such a nice, early spring night.

  "Sounds like you had yourself a hoot of a time, Trev."

  Stone gaped at the mystical Old Man. "That’s it? I tell you I know about the parallel universes, I know about Earth as an arena, I can name the other players in this little game, and I figure Voggoth is even more important than I ever thought before. And that’s all you can say?"

  Trevor gasped in frustration.

  The Old Man said, "Oh, calm down and enjoy the fire. Don’t go spoilin’ it for me. You don’t come to see me as often as you used to, so let’s try an’ keep this pleasant."

  Trevor thought about that while the flames danced and cast shadows over the white wolf that lay next to the fire and Tyr who curled at his Master’s feet.

  Suddenly Stone chuckled. Not a happy chuckle. Not at all.

  "What’s that ticklin’ your belly?"

  Trevor controlled his laugh and answered, "You were right, you know? Way back when…when we first met… you told me you were going to be the closest thing to a friend I was ever going to have. Well look around. You’re it."

  He gazed across the fire at his benefactor. The Old Man watched him closely. In those eyes there was something. What was it? Pity?

  Trevor stood and changed the subject. "So, what was it you and your buddies did? Huh? How’d you pick Earth to be the spot? Let me guess, you took a look down and saw this nice planet that could support all of the eight races. Ooops, look, there’s dinosaurs and shit like that crawling around down there. So then what? You toss an asteroid at Earth then wait a few million years until things cool down then drop human DNA into the mix down here? Or Chaktaw? Or Hivvan? Tell me, are you really a God or do you just try to play like one?"

  The Old Man tilted his head.

  "You just tryin’ like crazy to piss me off, that it Trev? Saints alive, you just don’t want any friends no more."

  "You’re never going to tell me anything, are you?"

  "I told you a heap more than I was ever suppose too."

  Trevor wagged a finger at the man. "Yeah, but I keep catching you in lies, old timer. The K9s, they weren’t a gift from you, they were built into my genes. Something more powerful than you put them there. That’s my bet."

  The Old Man chuckled.

  Trevor went on. "Then you told me I was going to break the rules. But it wasn’t me, was it? I didn’t break the rules."

  The Old Man stopped laughing.