Anthony DeCosmo - Schism

Trevor arrived at the mansion and entered. Lori Brewer's voice carried along the hall from her office in the old dining room: "Alllrrigghtty then, would you like me to get Trevor on the phone? He personally requested those food stuffs get up to Renton this week."

Of course, Trevor did not know a word of what Lori discussed but he approved, nonetheless. She had her own way of getting things done.

Just like Dante? Maybe he has his own way, too?

Trevor climbed the stairs to his second floor office where Dante Jones stood at the glass balcony doors, staring out toward the front grounds of the estate and the lake waters.

He spoke without turning, "I really didn't want this job when you first gave it to me. But I figured it would be easy, right? I mean, back then there were hardly any of us. So even though I didn't have any experience being a cop, I figured I could just use my common sense and all. Man, things have gotten a lot more complicated."

Trevor crossed the room and stopped several paces behind his old friend.

"Yeah, well, I didn't want you to handle Internal Security because of experience. Back then, no one had experience doing anything. The way I saw it, the slate was wiped clean. A new start for everyone. So I wanted you nearby. Maybe I was selfish, but the truth is that I wanted my friend at my side because I always could trust your judgment." "Seems to me, Trev, you don't trust my judgment anymore." Trevor ran a hand through his hair, sighed, and stood alongside his friend. "I'm sorry. Two weeks ago, at Stonewall's service, I jumped all over you. I shouldn't have done that."

"Yeah, well, I kinda guessed that you weren't jumping all over me. You were jumping all over the Senate, I just happened to be standing nearby."

"I suppose," Trevor admitted. "They're old style politicians, the type of people who let Earth fall the first time. I don't trust them to do what is right."

Dante glanced at Trevor then away, refusing to hold eye contact.

"Well buddy, you had better start listening to what's going on out there, because there's a lot of people on the street who don't trust you right now, either."

In the last two weeks the idea of a military-intelligence conspiracy and questions about the prosecution of the California war grew from isolated columns and protests to speeches on the Senate floor, news specials, and 'rallies' in Washington D.C. Not out of control; not yet, but reminiscent of the problems after New Winnabow.

"Things will calm down," Trevor tried to convince himself. "Most of the media is still pro-war. We just have to sit back and let the fires burn themselves out."

"That sounds like Knox talking. Truth is, if you do nothing it's going to get worse."

"Oh? What is it you think I should do, Dante?"

Trevor stopped himself. He heard a tone creeping into his voice again, the same tone he had used with Dante at the Capitol two weeks ago. Dante had come today for some kind of reconciliation- something. Trevor did not want to chase him away.

Dante asked, "Tell me, why do you think people are giving you shit about this?"

Trevor waved a dismissive hand, "There are some politicos out there who want to stir up headlines for themselves. Don't think I haven't noticed Godfrey doing most of the talking. Of course, politics is his game, not mine."

"Then you better make it your game. This isn't a handful of survivors any more, Trevor. This is a full-blown nation, man. Like it or not, it is a lot like America was."

"No, it isn't. I won't let it become that again," Trevor walked away from Dante with disgust building in his belly. "America lost the invasion. Do you want politicians to come back into style? Do you want the Evan Godfreys of the Senate holding us back?"

"I'm not the one who wants that, Trevor. You are. You're the one who makes them hold things back."

Dante moved away from the window and spoke in a pleading voice but still looked more at the ground than at his friend.

"The more you fight the Senate, the more it drags things down. The people are complaining because they're worried that the Senate means nothing. They're worried you're going to be a dictator for life. Hey, like it or not most of the people living in your Empire were Americans before. You know, land of liberty and freedom and all that. They've followed you this far, but they need some assurances before they take this fight around the world." Trevor grunted and said off-the-cuff, "That sounds like Evan Godfrey talking." "It is." Trevor whipped around on Dante and glared.

Before he could say a word, Dante Jones reminded, "When things went to Hell after New Winnabow, I worked with Godfrey to keep it under control. When you went away, I worked with him and Jon to hold together the mess you left us in. With everything happening now, Godfrey came to me off the record to offer, I guess, an olive branch."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, really. And he makes sense, man. People are worried about the future." "There won't be a future if we don't win this war, Dante." "There won't be any war if this falls apart. Can you put aside your ego for five minutes?" "Ego? You think I like this?"

"No, man, I know you never wanted any of this. I get it. But when it comes to Godfrey, you've got an ego. You once told me that you'd do anything for the great cause, right?"

From the moment he had been given responsibility for humanity's survival he knew he had to be a leader like no other. Everything he did must be to further the cause. Sometimes that meant standing his ground with complete resolve, other times that meant a humiliating retreat in order to live to fight another day.

He could do all that…yet refused to swallow his pride and deal with Godfrey.

Dante said, "Some of the shit that's happened these past few years has really, you know, divided everyone. You act like you don't trust Internal Security and you don't trust the Senate. In fact, you really dig on them sometimes, like you're trying to insult them. You got to remember, those people got elected so each one of them has some kind of following. When you pick on the Senate, their voters take that personal."

Trevor opened his mouth, said nothing, and closed it again.

Dante went on, "You need to show some confidence in I.S. and in the Senate. Show the people out there that you respect these, I guess, institutions. Maybe you've got to kiss some ass, but you've done worse in the name of keeping things together." "What exactly does Evan want? A campaign donation?" Dante threw his arms up, grunted, and walked toward the door saying, "Never mind, Caesar. Forget it." "Wait." Dante stopped and turned to face Trevor but his eyes found the floor. "What does he want?" "He just wants to meet with you, man." "Great, have him come up and we'll meet." "No," Dante shook his head. "You need to go down there, to D.C." "What? Why?"

"To show that you respect what they're doing down there. Don't you get it? All you need to do is go down there, kiss some Senate ass, and meet with Evan on his turf. Show him and the other Senators some love. Show the public that you aren't some kind of brutal dictator. You know what people are thinking about that missile strike, Trev? They're thinking maybe next time it might just be your political enemies at home. That maybe anyone who speaks out against Trevor Stone might end up the same way."

It angered Trevor that Dante would suggest such a thing but the very emergence of that anger caused him to stop and wonder. On that other Earth, a Trevor Stone had led invaders to the Chaktaw's world for conquest. On that other Earth, this Trevor Stone had touched his own dark side. If alcoholics were told that they could never be cured until they admitted a problem, could the same hold true for despots?

He held his temper and replied, "So I go down there and bow down to the great politicians. All that does, Dante, is weaken my position."