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."