Anthony DeCosmo - Fusion

“Oh, really,” and as she usually did, Lori Brewer opted for preaching. “Maybe it’s exactly what you need right now.”

“I’m not in the mood to be lectured.”

“Tough shit. You spent three years bending my ear about how you were so afraid of yourself; of what you could become,” she struck a sensitive nerve. “Look at what’s happened in the last year, Trevor. The executions, the purges-what’s left of the Senate is just your rubber stamp now. There are no voices of dissent.”

He growled at her, “The treacherous bastards got what they deserved. It was bad enough what they did to me, but they let it happen to my son, too. They fell for that give peace a chance shit and now we’re on the verge of being wiped out. Hell, I had no choice but to weed out the traitors. Get out from behind your desk, administrator, and take a good look at what’s coming at us and then maybe you’ll know why we can’t afford distractions or political bullshit.”

She shot back, “I told you once, a long time ago, that if you plan to save humanity you had better start showing some humanity yourself. The only person in this whole world who managed to bring that out in you since all this started was Nina. You need to see her again.”

“Don’t preach to me.”

“All righty, then, how about this-you owe her,” Lori added a new element to the argument. “I see ‘thank you’ is not a word you’re good with, is it?”

His eyes burned into her but she pushed, “She didn’t need to go into the wilderness after you. She chose to. Not out of duty or loyalty to ‘The Emperor’, but for Trevor Stone. I don’t know everything that happened out there but something big did happen. She sacrificed for you, Trevor. She pulled you from the brink. Whatever it was that went on, I think it’s made her start asking questions about that first year again. She remembers something. I don’t know how much, and I don’t know how she knows it. But there are memories and feelings bouncing around in her head that she can’t explain, she only knows that they all tie together here and with you. It doesn’t take much, you know, to stimulate memories. A smell, a sight, a sound like a song-things may be coming back to her, I don’t care how impossible that might seem.”

He had worried that perhaps Nina learned more during their connection via the Old Man. That maybe his memories of their love slipped into her mind, perhaps ignited her emotions. He did not think it possible for her to ever truly remember that first year on her own, but if the bridge she had used to stabilize his emotional state worked in both directions then possibly some of his memories went into her head.

Part of him wished she would remember. Her memory loss had been a convenience to make their separation more palatable. The Old Man had insisted that he could not be with her, that she did not walk the same path. So when she forgot, he did not pursue even though he desperately wanted to.

Trevor’s anger toward Lori wavered. His eyes found the floor.

“It’s not that easy, Lori. You know how I feel about her. That hasn’t changed in all these years. Nina has a daughter. She has a life. And I have my duty. The truth is, even if she could remember everything-even if she had never lost those memories-we still could not be together.”

Lori did not argue the point. Instead, she threw in a new consideration.

“I think we all know that his is going to be the last meeting. When it’s over, we’re all going our separate ways. And I know things don’t look good. The point is, Trevor, you may never see her again. Do you want to miss this chance?”

He kept his eyes down. Lori slipped her arms around her friend’s shoulders and gave him a squeeze.

“Besides, she’s the best soldier you’ve got. What did you say she was once? Oh yeah, your sword. And that’s stayed true all these years. For the big jobs you turned to her, like she is an extension of your power kind of like the K9s. That’s why I think you owe it to her. Besides, she used to be in on these meetings, way back when. She’s a part of the original group.”

“Okay, okay,” he answered, although he realized he never really had a choice. With Lori Brewer, most seldom did.

Gordon came last, his arrival announced by the electric hum from the lift chair installed on the stairway after his injury. As far as Trevor could remember, this was only the third time Gordon used it.

He watched as the Intelligence Director move from the lift to his wheelchair with the help of Lori Brewer. Trevor otherwise kept his attention focused on a file folder open at his place at the head of the table.

In the past, the meetings in the conference room at the estate included Trevor’s advisory council. The events of last year had decimated the ranks of that council. Dr. Maple had died in a cemetery outside of Wilkes-Barre while serving as an unwilling investigator into the circumstances of the assassination. Trevor had impaled Evan Godfrey on the White House lawn with Stonewall McAllister’s sword. Moments later, Dante Jones had taken his own life. Most recently, Anita Nehru’s psychological condition made her unfit for service.

Of course, Reverend Johnny had been gone for four years although Trevor often thought he heard Johnny’s voice echoing in the room like a ghost reciting Bible passages.

The meeting on the afternoon of Thursday, May 21, included a less formal congregation but no less an important one. Jon Brewer sat to Trevor’s right. His wife, Lori, sat further down the table sandwiched between General Jerry Shepherd and Lori’s guest, Nina Forest, who wore an expression of a wide-eyed child beholding the wonders of FAO Schwartz.

Brett Stanton and Eva Rheimmer sat next to one another. The former’s eyes had grown more sunken and his hair thinner, possibly a result of Brett re-igniting his love-affair with alcohol.

As for Eva, her body had grown frail-looking from years of hard work on the farm and, no doubt, the stress of coordinating food distribution to a struggling-and now constricting-nation.

Omar sat in a quiet corner of the table with a full ashtray in front of his place. Gordon Knox occupied the foot of the long table in his powered wheelchair.

“Okay, then, let’s get this started,” Trevor pulled his eyes from the papers and did what he usually did: he looked each member of his audience directly in the eye-save for Nina. “Jon and Shep, break it down for us. The quick version. I think we all know the outlook.”

Jon Brewer stood to his full height of over six feet yet he appeared weak and unnerved in the presence of Trevor. He consulted a map mounted on a portable board.

“Preparations to defend the Mississippi are more than sixty percent complete with the anticipation that The Order will follow a similar vein of attack as they have since invading California.”

Trevor explained, “Simply put, they want to kill off our armies. No fancy stuff. They’ll go to where we are encamped.”

“Right,” Jon continued. “To be safe, we’re demolishing just about all river crossings and fortifying the major cities along the way including those to the west of the river like St. Louis. It seems Voggoth’s troops prefer to fight in the open. We made the decision to turn several key cities into hard points. We anticipate this will steer them into the open terrain. At that point we’ll be relying on artillery and defending the east banks of the river.”

Lori Brewer added, “The military has kept open several key arteries across the river to facilitate evacuations of the civilian population.”

“Those refugees could be a real problem,” Trevor said more callously than he intended. “We’re trying to get 1 ^ st Corp up to the front while these evacuees are clogging the roads.”