The public fed on the red meat of photographs from the destroyed Centurian outpost with a vengeful zeal. Yet Evan Godfrey knew those images-from the fleet's gun cameras-would stave off anarchy for only so long.
Still, as it had done often in the past, anarchy served as the Senator's ally. He understood something that the best politicians and comedians knew: timing is everything.
Evan gazed into the mirror and recalled his stay in that same hotel three years prior. Back then his timing had been perfect, too, but with one tragic difference: Trevor Stone returned. Such would not be the case this time, of that Evan remained confident. Dante had done as instructed; he had persuaded Jon to send the body of Trevor Stone around The Empire, allowing all the loyal subjects to see the lifeless corpse.
Unlike three years ago, no uncertainty remained. There would be no sectarian strife between Trevor loyalists and the more reasonable crowd. Those loyalists concentrated on drowning their sorrows at the local pub or raising funds for this memorial or that. Evan heard that some two dozen schools had already been renamed "Trevor Stone Elementary" or "Stone High." "Let him have the high schools, I just want his job." "Did you say something?" "I said I'm about ready to go," he replied to his wife's question from the bathroom. Sharon strolled out from there wearing a white robe, still wet from the shower. "Going? Already? Is it that late?" "Yes, my lovely wife. It seems your hangover caused you to sleep in."
She frowned for a moment, and then smiled again. Sharon smiled a lot in recent days. She had, in fact, attended two of the Emperor's memorials, like going to see a good movie twice. As much as this amused him, he saw her enthusiasm for Trevor's fate as potentially hazardous. His wife failed to grasp the importance of appearances.
"Well, we were celebrating," she pressed against him. In addition to smiling, Sharon showed a lot more affection in recent weeks, too. "Now, are you set for today?" "You know I have everything lined up. People just need to play their part, remember?" "Ah yes, you're big on role playing, aren't you?" Evan could not help but return her smile. Yes, Sharon had shown a great deal more affection in recent days, and creativity.
Still, duty called. He told her, "Enjoy your day shopping. Be sure to pick up some Trevor Stone remembrance mugs or scrapbooks or whatever it is they're selling in the market."
"I don't think I can afford any of that, my dear, not with the way prices are skyrocketing. You'd think those damn politicians would do something about that, wouldn't you."
"I intend to do plenty. Now you have a wonderful day."
Sharon grabbed Evan's power tie, pulled him close and kissed hard.
Five minutes later the Internal Security motorcade arrived outside the hotel on Public Square in Wilkes-Barre. A short man with gray hair and a heavy bandage on his arm drove. Evan addressed him first, "How is the arm, Tucker?" "Getting better, Mister Godfrey, sir." Dr. Maple had fixed Tucker's dog bite and reported it as a glancing blow from a Centurian energy weapon. Ray Roos shared the back seat with Evan. "Big day for you, isn't it now, Senator?"
As the car pulled away Evan responded, "I like to think that it's a big day for our entire nation, Ray. Think about it, today we take our first steps toward democracy."
"Oh yeah, that's exactly what I mean, Senator. 'Course, sometimes people don't vote the way other folks are expecting. I seem to recall this Dewey fella…"
Despite how much he relied on him, Evan often found Roos rather grating. Probably because Roos saw through Evan at every turn, starting first with his maneuverings during the New Winnabow crisis then again during Trevor's absence three years ago.
"That's the wonderful thing about democracy, Ray, the results can be surprising sometimes. Of course, it can be easier to deal with those surprises when one stays in touch with the feelings of the people."
Ray nodded with a big grin.
"Well, Senator, you know I do my best to stay in touch with the people. Well, that's not exactly true. I stay in touch with the folks at the estate, as best I can. And since the only 'people' who'll be voting on the next Emperor are the 'people' on the council, well I've tried to keep my ear to the ground. You know, just to be sure everything is on the up and up."
"Of course. You know, Ray, I've come to trust your instincts. Tell me, what are your feelings on today's vote?"
The motorcade-led by two I.S. officers on hover bikes and trailed by a tactical response team in a black SUV-left downtown and traveled along the river bank. Warm weather had returned to Wilkes-Barre, bringing with it joggers and picnickers and street performers along the grassy dike.
"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Senator, but I'm thinking you may not even get one vote today. Unless, of course, you vote for yourself."
"Now Ray, that wouldn't seem like a gentlemanly thing to do. After all, my modesty…"
Roos snickered before saying, "Of course not, Senator. But I think one guy who might just punch his own number would be that Gordon Knox. If that's the case, I'm thinking he's going to make a real run at this thing."
The very mention of Knox's name brought a grimace to Evan's face. He could practically feel the cold barrel of the Intelligence Director's pistol against the back of his head. Evan felt Gordon Knox to be a man with whom he could not deal.
"That does not surprise me. Still, there are ten votes in all among the council."
"Well sure, I understand that. Like I was saying, Senator, I keep my ear to the ground; I hear things. There's been a lot of the council talking amongst themselves. See, most of them think there's really only two people in this race. People in one camp lean toward Knox. I guess part of that is because they might be a little afraid of him, isn't that something? In any case, folks in the other camp are leaning toward Jon Brewer, kind of a sentimental vote and seein' that he has all this experience and whatnot."
Evan told Ray, "Well, that's great. I think Jon should be the next leader. I'll tell you this much, Ray, he's got my vote. And I can think of a few others who are going to vote for him, too."
"Awe, now, that's terrific, Senator. But the way I see it-oh wait, the way I hear it-there might just be a few more people leaning toward Knox."
Ray's observation bothered Evan, but he had long since prepared for just this contingency. He turned and looked Roos straight in his brown eyes.
"Isn't that just the neatest thing about politics, Ray. You never know what's going to happen, do you? Especially when it seems there's only this two party system. Say, do you remember Clinton's Presidential runs?"
"Why yessir, I do. In fact, I remember watching one of his debates while I was marking time at Camp Hill. But I figure you've got something more to say on that, yes you do." "During his first Presidential election in '92, Clinton got less than half of the votes." "You don't say." "So you figure that the other guy had to have gotten more than half and won, right?" "Well, Senator, you know math has never been my strong point."
"But he didn't, Ray, because there was this third guy-Perot-and he took enough votes away from Bush that Clinton won with less than half the people voting for him."
Roos played along, "So let me see if I get this. Are you saying that some other fella could muck up the works for the guy that looks like he's going to win, even if this other fella doesn't get much support?"
"Oh, now, Ray, who knows what could happen in politics, right? I mean, there are probably a few people who think they can only choose between Knox and Brewer, so they'll pick Knox even though they'd rather have a third choice."
Roos' eyes grew wide and he scratched the thinning hair at the top of his head as he told Evan, "You know, it's funny you should say that, Senator. In fact, Eva Rheimmer and Brett Stanton were having a conversation last night about that very thing. Why, if I remember correctly they were saying something about not really wanting to vote for Knox but Brewer just screwed the pooch so much last time that they had no faith in him. Imagine that, huh?"
"You don't say."
"I hate to tell you, though, Senator, I don't think they would switch over to your side. Something about that being a slap in the face to Trevor and all. If you ask me-and I know you didn't but since we're talking anyway-that's very short sighted of them."
The motorcade climbed an on-ramp and merged onto the Cross Valley Expressway.
"I appreciate your sentiments, Ray, but I feel confident that Rheimmer and Stanton will sort things out. After all, it would be a shame if they had to vote for someone they did not think was right for the job. I bet they'll find someone else to support. Call it a hunch."
– Eva Rheimmer never wanted to be anything more than a farmer. She certainly never held any political ambitions. She had only joined Trevor Stone's council because people needed her. As the group of survivors grew into an Empire and Eva progressed into her seventies, she found less patience for the red tape and far more contempt for politicians.
Her husband told her to stick with it because she might be the only one in the whole darned works with half a head on her shoulders. However, that half-a-head could not sort out exactly what to do on this occasion.
She stood outside the sprawling fields surrounding what had started decades ago as a small family farm and waited for her ride to the estate, still undecided on whom to vote for.
Only two serious candidates were in the running. As much as that weasel Evan Godfrey might have the right credentials to do something with the position, he had caused so much trouble for the council over the years that even if she desired to vote for him she would be embarrassed to do so.
As for the rest of the council, most of them did not have either the desire or leadership skills to take the job. Eva could not imagine the nation governed by Omar, Lori Brewer, Dr. Maple, or even herself. Anita Nehru would have made a good choice a year ago, but that woman's work in the dungeon named Red Rock had taken her for a turn down some dark alleyway that might just end in a psychiatric ward.
That left Eva with Gordon Knox and all the trouble he might cause and Jon Brewer who had led things for a while when Trevor took his alternate-Earth vacation.
She considered Brewer a great General and sound thinker, but he lacked the balls to take the nation by the horns. For all his brilliant military maneuvers, Brewer came across as ill-suited for full-blown leadership; too timid in the face of political hardliners and always questioning himself. Besides, one look in the man's eyes clearly showed he did not want the position and he nearly said as much whenever the topic came up.
So in reality, that left Eva only one choice: Gordon Knox, and that's how she finally decided to vote, until she climbed into the Chevrolet Suburban sent by I.S. to collect her. In the rear seat waited Dante Jones. "Hey, Eva, good morning." "Mr. Jones? Interesting that you would come all the way out to fetch me yourself." Dante smiled, "Yeah, I thought we might have a little chat before the big vote and all." The car drove along the dirt road kicking up a cloud of dust. "I sense you have something to say, Dante, so out with it." As usual, Eva Rheimmer got straight to the point. The council learned long ago that this gray-haired woman suffered no bull shit.
"Well, it's like this. I'm not really good at this whole campaigning thing, but I just thought I'd let you know that I'm throwing my hat, you know, in the ring for this whole Emperor thing. Not that I like that title and all, you know?"
"I see."
"I don't want to know how you might vote, Eva, but I know that most people are thinking there's only Jon and Gordon in the running. I didn't want it myself, either, but I don't trust Knox as the head honcho and I'm thinking Jon doesn't really want it."
"And why should I vote for you?"
"I was Trevor's friend since he was a kid, I've been in charge of I.S. for ten years now and you know that Internal Security is involved in just about everything, from the war to guarding your farms and all that. Like I said, it isn't something I used to think a lot about, but now that I do I see I've got the experience this job needs. Oh and it helps that I've got friends in the Senate, too. I think Jon or Gordon will have a real tough time with them."
Eva glanced out the window, but still listened as Dante finished his sales pitch.
"Besides, like I said, most people think there are only two choices. I'm not going to put any pressure on you. Just think of me as another choice."
– "Daddy! Look what I drew!"
Jon Brewer worked the button on a cuff of his dress uniform and leaned over the breakfast table for a closer look at the piece of construction paper in front of his eight-year-old daughter. He saw a flower with four big petals in four different colors, a purple stem, and some kind of scraggly lines-maybe a butterfly-sitting on top.
"Wow, that's good. Now your mom said to go brush your teeth and get ready for school."
"But dad, school is just about over for the summer."
"Right. Just about over. Not over. Now hustle along." His dark-haired daughter scrambled off, passing her mother as Lori approached the kitchen dressed in a business suit. "Alright, you ready for the big day?" Jon shook his head and told her, "I can't wait to get all this off my shoulders." "Get what?" "This whole leadership thing."
Lori searched through her purse for her identification card. Security would be even tighter at the estate today with the entire council convening. As she rummaged through her purse, Lori said, "What makes you think you won't win the vote? You're the only one on the council who has any experience at the top. That means something."
Jon burst into a short, sardonic chuckle and replied, "Experience? Yeah, I've got experience. I screwed things up."
"Don't be so hard on yourself," Lori abandoned her search for a moment, stepped to her husband and threw her arms around his shoulders in her classic pep-talk maneuver. "Hey, you know I'm the first one to tell you you're an asshole when, well, when you're an asshole." "Gee, thanks." "That was a hard situation before. This is hard, too, but who else on the council is fit to be in charge?" Jon shrugged and answered, "Gordon. Maybe even Evan." Lori spat, "No one is going to vote for Evan, you can count on that." "Oh yeah? Why is that?" "It'd be a slap on the face to Trevor, after those two went head to head all the time."
"Remember, Trevor was on his way to patch things up with Evan when it, you know, happened. Evan has been President of the Senate for a while now. He knows how to get things done. He's got friends in the labor unions and that could help get the economy moving again."
"Oh, I get it, you just want to make sure you don't have the responsibility, is that it?"
He pulled her arms from his shoulders.
"I never wanted this kind of responsibility. It's not who I am. Besides, I can't handle all the crap that's going on out there: inflation, strikes, political bull shit. That's not me."
"Trevor never wanted the responsibility either, but he did it because he was right for it."
"It doesn't matter. Like I said, no one is going to vote for me. And if they were to ask me, I'd tell them not to."
He turned away from her to work on the other cuff. Lori considered for a moment, then walked up behind him and put her arms around her husband in a soft hug.
"You're a good man, Jon Brewer. I love you."
Jon, a fan of Clint Eastwood in the old world cinema, repeated one of his favorite Dirty Harry lines: "A good man always knows his limitations."
– The full council gathered in the basement of the estate: Evan Godfrey, Anita and Omar Nehru; Dr. Maple; Gordon Knox; and Eva Rheimmer all sitting around the table as Jon and Lori Brewer descended the basement stairs. After a few minutes, Dante Jones and Brett Stanton came down together, thus opening the meeting.
All ten sat in their usual positions, leaving the chair at the head empty although each of them knew that in a few minutes someone would earn the right to sit there.
Jon got things started, "We all know the procedure. I've placed paper ballots at each of your chairs. Those ballots hold the names of all council members. Circle the person of your choice, only one vote per ballot. Please do not abstain, this is too important. Also, this is a confidential vote, so there shouldn't be anything to say at this point. When everyone is finished, I'll pass around a box for you to put them in. Then I will pull the votes from the container and hold them up for everyone to see. The results of this vote are final, barring a tie in which case we will vote again. The person who wins this vote will immediately assume the responsibilities of the Emperor from this moment forward."
Jon glanced toward Evan, expecting some kind of outburst. To the contrary, Evan sat quiet with his arm in a sling.
"Okay then, mark your ballots."
Each of the council members examined the small paper at their place. Most marked that paper fast and folded it. A few, such as Eva Rheimmer, Brett Stanton, and Anita Nehru took considerably more time.
Jon circled the name of Gordon Knox, folded the paper and waited. When he saw everyone had finished, he placed his ballot inside a small square box and passed it around the table. A minute later the box returned to him.
His hand trembled as he pulled the first paper ballot, glanced at it, then unfolded it completely and showed the table, "Gordon Knox." Gordon folded his hands over his chest and leaned back slightly in his chair. Jon opened the next ballot and, to his surprise, read, "Jon Brewer." The process continued with, "Gordon Knox"
Knox struggled to suppress a smile. Evan, on the other hand, grew a shade pale. The following ballot, however, caused Knox's smile to fade.
"Jon Brewer."
Then, to the surprise of most and the delight of Evan, Jon read, "Dante Jones."
A moment later, Jon pulled the next ballot. His face twisted as he read it silently at first but he caught himself in time to read the vote aloud with a straight face: "Omar Nehru."
Omar burst a big grin, nearly dropped the smoke hanging from his mouth, and shouted to his wife, "Oh! Thank you honey!"
Anita flashed a half-hearted smile then returned her eyes to the table in front of her place.
Lori Brewer placed a hand over her mouth to stifle a chuckle. Gordon's chair made a thump as he leaned forward and stared intensely at the ballot box.
Jon pulled out the next paper and read, "Gordon Knox."
Evan glanced at Dante. The two fidgeted. Gordon eased slightly in his chair as he had taken a three to two lead over Jon Brewer with Dante and Omar each receiving one vote.
The next ballot, however, evened things up. The temporary leader swallowed hard before reading his name, "Jon Brewer."
Gordon bit his lower lip.
Jon grasped the next ballot with sweat building on his fingers. He prayed the name circled on the next paper would not be his. Those prayers were answered: "Dante Jones."
Gordon's eyes darted across the table to Dante who sat there trying very hard to remain stoic. Gordon's stare next found Evan Godfrey. The President of the Senate appeared rather calm with one vote remaining. Knox and Brewer remained tied at three votes a piece and Jones with two; the possibility existed for a three-way tie.
However, that was not to be the case. The final ballot was pulled from the box. Gordon peered as if trying to see through the paper with X-ray vision.
Jon did not have the composure to read the name on the paper. He held the ballot aloft for all to see. Evan Godfrey spoke the name of the new Emperor.
"Jon Brewer."
– The office on the second floor of the mansion truly belonged to Trevor Stone, so Jon did not want to go there after the council meeting dissolved. He did not want to loiter in the basement, either, not when he felt sick to his stomach and certainly not with Gordon staring at him. He hit upon the idea of hiding in his wife's office.
Before he could escape, he accepted the obligatory handshakes from Dr. Maple, Dante, and most of the others. He had expected some kind of speech or something from Evan, but instead received a hardy slap on the back and encouraging words.
"Good luck, Jon. When you get settled, we have to sit down and see how the Senate can be of assistance. As you know, I'm not in favor of this whole 'Emperor' thing, but I think the important matter right now is stability. Let's stay in touch. I know I can help you."
Jon then retreated in search of calm before the scheduled press conference on the front lawn. He made it to his wife's office, the old dining room on the first floor. Lori followed him in but before she could shut the door Ashley and JB entered. "Congratulations, Jon," Ashley offered. "Be strong now, for the sake of the people." Jon, still in a state of shock, merely nodded. Jorgie ran over and gave him a big hug. "I know you can do it, Mr. Brewer. Just keep things going until my father comes back."
Even if Jon had not been shell-shocked into silence by the result of the vote, he still would not have known how to answer the boy.
JB pulled away. Before the two well-wishers left, Ashley told Jon again, "It's all in your hands now. Trevor trusted you. Jon, be strong."
As the two left, Lori close the door. Jon broke out of his daze.
"You voted for me, didn't you?"
The tone of his voice suggested Jon planned to take out his fear and disappointment on his wife's one vote. Lori, of course, would not accept such blame.
"Alllrriiigghhty then, that's how this is going to be? It's my fault? There were three other votes for you. Even then, I figured Gordon would win. I never guessed Dante would get a vote, let alone two. But yeah, I voted for you. I thought I would be the only one after what you said this morning." He paced from one side of her office to the other. "Oh, a pity vote? Is that it? I don't need your damn pity." "Yeah, well, you don't need pity but it sounds like you need a good kick in the ass."
He growled at his wife, "I don't want pity, I don't want a kick in the ass, and I sure don't want this! Who are the idiots who voted for me? Didn't they see what happened three years ago? Is that what they want? They want me to ruin it all?"
"Maybe people think that if Gordon Knox were in charge then we'd have ourselves some kind of tyrant. He'd probably slaughter the Senate and turn this whole thing into a fascist paradise. Maybe they have a faith that you're a lot better than that." He clenched his fists and pounded his thighs. "I am a General, a soldier. I am not a politician. I am not a leader." Lori sighed then placed her arms on his tall shoulders as he stopped pacing and gazed at the floor. "Jon, don't try to be the same leader Trevor Stone was. Do what you think is best, not what you think he would do." "That's the problem. I think it's best for us that I'm not in charge." — Three hours after the press conference announcing Jon Brewer as the new Emperor, the freight handlers union went on strike demanding changed work rules to improve safety plus an insistence on regulations against mandatory overtime.
At midnight that same day, four off-duty soldiers were killed when an arsonist torched a popular military night club in Indianapolis; a caller claimed the fire was in response to the 'military' coup. Copycat crimes over the next two days included a homemade bomb detonating during a promotions ceremony in Bangor, Maine and bullets fired into the dreadnought shipyards at Pittsburgh.
While Evan Godfrey took to the air waves to urge calm and restraint, lesser known politicians sprung from the woodwork pointing to the General's ascension to the top post in the land as a sign that there truly existed a military-intelligence conspiracy.
More workers walked off the job on June 12 ^ th in a wildcat strike at the matter-making facilities in Atlanta. This caused a shortfall in the supply of lubricants and petroleum products, which in turn ratcheted up the inflation rate to double digits.
About half of the media remained optimistic over Jon's election. Several did long pieces on his exemplary battlefield record and credited him with the development of the dreadnought program. Those same newspapers and broadcast stations recapped Jon's voyage to South America aboard the Excalibur the year before, calling it a 'heroic' expedition into the unknown.
At the same time, a fair number of media outlets attacked his election, citing his personal failures during Trevor's absence three years ago and wondering why political leadership did not go to someone with political experience.
While the level of panic and problems did not rise nearly as high as three years ago, Jon felt uncertainty simmering out there. He felt it simmering in his own stomach, too.
Things changed on June 13 ^ th.
Jon sat at Trevor's old desk, having been invited by Ashley to look for any items that might be of use. He had the place to himself: Benjamin Trump took his daughter and his grandson to a movie at the small theater in Wilkes-Barre at the request of Jorgie, who seemed obsessed with attending a 'classic films' festival featuring The Manchurian Candidate.
In any case, Jon found stacks of papers covering a wide range of topics, the sheer scope of which generated a painful thump in his temples. The headache forming there was interrupted when Dante Jones and Evan Godfrey entered the office.
"Hey, buddy, what's up?"
"Hello, Dante. Just going through some stuff. You two in town for tomorrow's council meeting?"
Evan made a point of walking over to Jon and extending his hand (his sling finally off) but carried himself in a much more humble-perhaps cautious-demeanor than usual. His voice faltered a bit as he said to Jon, "It's good to see you."
Godfrey then glanced at Dante and seemed to hesitate over something. Dante, however, said to Evan, "Go ahead, tell him. He needs to know."
"Tell me what?"
Evan thought for a moment before saying, "Jon, my connection in the labor unions tells me that things are getting out of control. I don’t' know how to say this, but they sense a moment of weakness with a, well…"
"With me as leader."
"I wouldn't put it quite like that. But they do sense an opportunity to get concessions, both from their private employers and from government rules and regulations. I've heard rumors of at least another dozen strikes coming. The workers are trying for raises in the minimum wage, improved benefits packages, stronger safety regulation, tighter work hours, and so forth."
Dante added, "My people are saying that the black market is growing, what with inflation so bad and all. There have been supply shortages in some areas, partly because of these strikes but also because people are hoarding stuff. I don't know, but it seems like some people out there feel like the government is going to collapse or something."
"So? What do you want me to do?"
Dante answered, "Hey, man it's just info. We need to be prepared for these things. I mean, it's getting pretty bad."
Evan suggested, "We may need to take some, well, radical steps to bring stability back to the economy and, I think, society at large."
Jon's pride got the better of him for a moment, despite how little he wanted his new job. At over six feet tall, Jon towered above the other two as he got up from the chair and stood.
"I'm not doing enough, is that it? I'm screwing it up again?"
Dante calmed, "Jon, no, that's not it. But listen to him, man. Everything is hanging by a thread and it’s all on your shoulders."
Jon took a deep breath and nodded, giving Evan permission to speak his piece.
"Remember in the old world if you had a one-hundred dollar bill in your pocket you felt good? Why was that? Like our Continental Dollars, the old dollars were just printed on paper with ink. But right now, even the largest Contys aren’t held in much respect, are they?"
Jon closed his eyes knowing he could not avoid the coming lecture. Still, a small part of him welcomed Evan’s words. Maybe it was the way the man spoke. His voice sounded smooth and reassuring. Despite the economic chaos stretching from the Atlantic Coast to the newly assimilated territories in California, Evan’s voice suggested a simple answer to that chaos, if only someone would listen.
"It wasn’t the paper and ink of that one-hundred dollar bill that was worth anything, it was the confidence you had in what backed those dollars." "Oh? And what was that?" "The institutions of the United States of America and the confidence people had in those institutions." "Evan," the newly-elected Emperor said, "I know you have a point to make." "The people of this ‘Empire’ do not have those types of institutions."
"I thought that was what the Senate has been doing. You rebuilt D.C. You put together programs, government departments and offices, procedures and all that stuff."
"Yes, but everything was overshadowed by the Emperor. Whatever rule we passed, he could veto. Even after we managed to have the final word on budget allocations, even then the Emperor held so much power that he truly controlled everything in the government."
Dante chimed in, "Yeah man, let’s admit it. Trev didn’t really like all that stuff, that’s why he tried not to deal with it. But if something took his interest, then he could change things around whatever way he liked."
Jon snapped, "Trevor was a great man. He made this from the ground up. Without him, we would have been lost. Wow, I mean you, Evan, you would have been dead a long time ago."
Dante agreed, "Yeah, I would have been a part of The Order, so I know what you mean. He was my best friend, back in the day."
Evan said, "I know that, Jon. Just because I argued with Trevor did not mean I didn't appreciate his accomplishments. Yes, he built us from the ground up. But now where are we, Jon? Trevor was mortal, like any other man. We knew-all those years we knew — that sooner or later he would be gone. In recent years, as he took to the battlefield again, we should have prepared for his end. Three years ago we had a glimpse of what could happen on this day, yet we failed to take adequate precautions. No one prepared, other than a procedure for electing a new, all-powerful leader."
Jon grunted, but said nothing. Evan went on, "What you don’t understand is that I did not dislike Trevor. What I opposed was the idea of an Emperor. It does not matter if that Emperor be a good man or a bad one. What is happening out there, on the streets of our nation, only proves my point. I just wish it had not taken this tragedy for the truth to be revealed."
Brewer walked to the balcony doors. A soft rain fell from low, fluffy clouds. A solitary beam of sunlight appeared over the lake, then disappeared, then appeared again but it could not chase away the dreariness.
Dante said, "He makes sense, Jon. The whole thing has been depending on one guy; on Trevor being out in front. It was like one of those houses of cards. With him gone, it was going to fall apart. Now we have to pick up the pieces and not make the same mistakes."
Jon thought about the stacks of papers he had found atop Trevor's desk; papers on subjects ranging from agricultural output to industrial capacity to drawing political boundaries in new territories. To his eye those papers resembled a complex equation from a discipline of math he had never studied that he was expected to decipher, decode, and correctly complete.
"I didn’t want to be Emperor. I don’t even know how I won the vote."
"That doesn’t matter now. The point is that the council placed their faith in you to make the right decisions. You have the power Trevor had, and if you don’t do something fast you’re going to have to build it all up from the ground again because it’s falling apart right now."
Jon, still gazing out the doors, placed a finger on the glass and traced the slow streak of one tiny water drop. He spoke in a quiet, reflective voice.
"Wow, things have changed. Dante can tell you, in the old world I was pretty much an arrogant ass. I thought I knew everything. I thought I was, in charge," he spoke those two words in a voice that mocked the very idea of him being in charge. "Then, when it all went to Hell, I…I dropped the ball. Wow, sure did. When… when the chips were down I showed that I wasn’t in charge at all. That I had no business being in charge. Then Trevor came along. He gave me direction again, and I found that there were still a few things I was pretty good at. Things I had the confidence to do."
Evan encouraged, "You’re the best General in the military, Jon. Your accomplishments are extraordinary."
"Yeah, buddy, Trevor came to rely on you. He trusted you."
"That’s right," Jon agreed. "He trusted me to play my part. Then when he disappeared three years ago, I found myself in charge again. I found out that things hadn’t changed much. That I don’t have what it takes to be…to be at the top. Like I said, I didn’t want this."
The rain drop slipped out of reach. Jon turned to face the two men.
"So the question is, what do I do now? The economy is falling apart because I’m the Emperor. The people and businesses are afraid of what is going to happen with me in charge."
"Jon," Evan consoled. "It’s falling apart because Trevor is gone yet there is still to be an Emperor. It wouldn’t matter if Dante, or Shepherd, or myself were in your shoes. As long as one man or, I guess, one position can overrule all the institutions then those institutions and rules and procedures don’t mean a thing. That causes instability. People don’t have anything to rely on, not the bus schedule, electricity, or even the enforcement of the laws that are on the books."
"So what am I to do? I can resign this post. Have another vote and exclude myself."
Dante jumped, "Whoever takes over will have the same problems. Jon, you said you didn’t want to be Emperor, right? You have the power to change whatever needs to be changed. Use it to change everything."
Evan concurred with Dante, "You can set into motion a totally new form of government for The Empire. You can change us into a republic. Think back to the founding of America. George Washington won the Revolutionary War and was a beloved national figure. The politicians and the people were willing to hand him complete authority over the colonies, but he refused. He was elected President twice, but would not run for a third term because he felt that gave too much power to one man, a precedent that survived all the way up until FDR and then, after, the two-term limit was made a part of the Constitution because it was such a good idea."
"You’re talking about things I know nothing about. I don’t know the first thing about political systems and governments. I’m a General. I know how to fight wars. This other stuff…it’s for someone else."
"Point is," Evan focused, "sometimes the greatest leaders are those who give up power. That is what we need now, Jon. We need organization and institutions, not individuals. The people need to have faith and confidence in the government as a whole, not in a new Emperor. But right now, you are the Emperor and that gives you the power to do whatever needs to be done. Change the fundamentals of our nation and the economy will stabilize, the people will calm, and our nation will unite again."
Dante said, "We have a lot of it already. We have judges that just have to be organized into a new judiciary branch. We already have a Senate, so you’ve got the legislative branch."
"But the Emperor," Brewer conceded, "is not checked by those other branches. That needs to change. Is that what you’re saying? I’m not even sure how to do that."
"Then find someone who can," Evan said. "I’ll help, but I understand if you don’t trust me. There are plenty of political experts out there who can guide you."
"No," Jon spoke in a voice that sounded as if he had hit upon an idea. "I can’t do it. As long as there is someone with the title ‘Emperor’ then we’ll still have the same problem you just said. My first act as Emperor has to be the last act of any Emperor. This position has to cease to exist. I can go back to fighting the war and the people who know about this stuff can start building a new form of government."
Dante said, "Well, yeah, that sounds right. But you can’t just have the Senators bickering about this. Someone has to lead. We need an election for, what, a President? That will take time. I don’t know if we have that kind of time with the way things are falling apart out there."
Jon told them, "We already have an elected President; elected by the representatives of the people. You, Evan. We can morph your position into a new Executive Branch. From there, you can shape a new constitution and government through the Senate. You have friends in the trade unions and stuff, I got to figure you can use those connections to help calm things down."
Evan acted surprised. "I don’t know what to say. There are those in the military and Trevor’s old circle who will oppose me gaining such a position."
"You're already there," Jon said. "The only difference is ending the position of Emperor."
Dante offered, "Evan can appoint people who were Trevor's friends as advisors, plus the Senate will provide a check, just like the old President. That's what this country used to have, so it will be familiar, people will take to it quick."
Evan shook his head as if disappointed and said, "I’m afraid there is a certain amount of tension in regards to the military-intelligence complex. Many people fear the influence of this threat, real or imagined."
"Then you appoint the right people," Jon said, "in visible jobs. People who are trusted for their independent thinking. Me? I want none of it."
"Someone must command our armies. I can think of no one better than you."
"But not visible," Jon told Evan in a voice that sounded relieved, "As long as I’m visible people might think I’m pulling the strings. Find the right people, Evan, and put together a new government."