by Max Jager
And all the time Axus was getting farther and farther away from him.
"…which is where the slur Silver comes from."
Jameson blinked, losing his focus as he tried walking on two feet. "Sorry?"
"Silvers," Madeira replied, taking his hands and helping him grip the pedestrian rail. It wasn't much for a recuperation therapy, being along a public sidewalk, but it was better than nothing.
Jameson gripped the rail tightly with his right hand—the one without so many cybernetics—holding on for dear life as he stretched out with two stiff legs. He hadn't realized Madeira was still jabbering as he walked. But now he was curious.
"Silver-tesrha, to be precise," Madeira went on. "One of the original noble families of the Nereis. They were the only ones willing to open correspondence with the next wave of colonists that showed up in later centuries."
Jameson grunted painfully, tweaking his ankle. His feet still wouldn't walk right. "And what does this have to do with Kora again?"
Madeira brushed a stray strand of blonde hair out of her face, taking Jameson by his left hand. He suddenly felt more balanced, having her steadying him on the left, the railing steadying him on the right.
"Nereis don't care much for humans. Never did after they spent all those years adapting on their own. But the Silver-tershas knew how important it was to network Aquarius. So while they were becoming all cozy with the new colonists, the rest of the Nereis held nothing but disdain for their traitorous brothers and sisters. If it weren't for their tersha ranking, we might never have built the Raft Cities or Space Habitats. So, when someone calls you a Silver, it's just a fancy way of saying human-lover."
Yes, yes, that was well and all, but Jameson was starting to tire of these little lectures Madeira was giving him. Yes, it was nice that she happened to have friends and family with moderate Silver opinions. Yes, it was nice that she had willing shed her tail to spend time up here out of the water to help him.
It was all irrelevant anyway. Not when Axus was getting away.
The therapy started getting better, but Sergio was still struggling with the gear. He finally admitted that he needed a special piece of hardware to interface with the internal energy mechanics. That would at least get them operational, but the part had to be ordered in from orbit. It could be down as soon as a day or as long as two weeks. Furrow wasn't a high trafficked Raft City, and Sergio wasn't a high priority mechanic.
So they were back to more waiting.
"My family even sponsored several exchange trips for me to a Space Habitat," Madeira was explaining. They were back at the pier again, Jameson worn out after another long afternoon of self-medicated physical therapy. He felt more exhausted than strengthened.
"It's not as difficult as everyone made it out to be," she pressed on. "Floating in zero-g is a lot like floating in the ocean. Even without my tailfin, I could navigate it just fine."
She glanced up, realizing that Jameson had zoned out again, his eyes glazed over as they watched the sunset.
"You traveled in space a lot," she said pointedly.
"Yeah," Jameson muttered.
"But you don't have a crew aboard your ship."
Jameson arched an eyebrow, but still didn't bother glancing her way.
"They would have come looking for you," she said when he remained silent. "No, you were definitely working solo. Maybe on an expressly automated system; maybe even with a MATHISON. I know they've been selling a few of them wholesale in the Expanse."
She paused, staring him down with those pale blue eyes of hers. Jameson slumped in his wheel chair, trying to zone her out. Yes, she was making some fine guesses, but again, they weren't helping him…
"C'mon," she grumbled, her characteristic cheer suddenly gone. "Let's go back to Sergio's. Maybe your parts got shipped in."
She turned his wheelchair around. Instinctively, Jameson reached down with sore arms and started wheeling himself forward. It was an older style chair, since Madeira didn't have money to get them one of the automated kinds. She didn't really have money period.
To Jameson's surprise, he found he still had strength to wheel himself. Maybe the physical therapy was paying off.
"Well look at you," said Madeira, her exuberance starting to come back. "I wouldn't be surprised if you were walking by tomorrow."
Neither was Jameson. In fact, he intended to do so. If Sergio was lucky and got the parts tomorrow, then he could contact the Crimson, have Mathison pilot the skiff down to Furrow, and be gone before the evening was out.
The thought made him speed up a bit, racing slightly ahead of Madeira.
"Slow down, speedy-pants," said Madeira. "You act like Sergio has already got the part back at his shop."
"Maybe he does," Jameson replied. "Maybe I can get in touch with my ship and be out of here as soon as tomorrow night."
"Wow, jetting off that fast." Jameson couldn't see Madeira's expression, but her tone sounded a little dejected. It surprised him, but only briefly. He was already planning what channels to have Mathison start searching for signs of Axus. He was probably headed towards a core world…
"I bet you're going after whoever pushed you overboard," Madeira suddenly continued. "I saw it in your eyes from the moment it came up during your recovery. Whoever this person is, you really hate them."
Jameson felt a sudden flare of frustration spike up. Ms. Conversationalist didn't have any business discussing his feud with Axus.
"But I can't blame you. If I had been left for dead—"
Jameson let off the wheels, quickly rolling to a stop. "Enough," he growled. "This is none of your concern."
Madeira had frozen somewhere off to his right, not having quite caught apace with him after he had sped up. He could instantly sense the shock of his words upon her, especially by the way she hovered tensely in his periphery. Then she did something unexpected.
Stomping around in front of him, her bare feet padding loudly on the metal roadway, her face instantly creased into aggravated fury. It was a strange contrast to the last couple of weeks of her characteristic cheer.
"What the hell is the matter with you?!"
Jameson blinked, temporarily speechless. It scared him how quickly this girl had turned so vicious. Fortunately, or so her thought, there was still enough former frustration that hadn't evaporated away. He tapped into that as quickly as he could.
"It's time to end your vow, Madeira," he said, though not as forcefully as he would have liked. "It's time you went home where you belong."
That was the wrong thing to say.
The vehemence spelled out across her face turned to wrath. She threw up her hands, scoffing.
"Where I belong?! After all of this shit I did for you, and this is the attitude you repay it with?"
Jameson dropped his head to the side wearily, letting his left eye roam away from her face. So she was going to throw a temper tantrum…
"Damn it, Jameson! I know you. You're not some heartless jerk; you're just being down on yourself. Bastard…get over it."
Then she stalked off, back in the general direction they had come from. Jameson sat up straight, startled by her response. He had thought she was going to throw in his face all the work she had done for him; all the sacrifices she had made to help him convalesce.
He hadn't expected…this.
Jameson spun his wheel chair around as best he could. He realized that he hadn't really mastered steering so much; Madeira had taken care of that for him. But he managed to get it turned around in time to see Madeira disappear down the empty street, making her way back towards the piers.
Jameson watched her quietly as her figure grew small in the distance.
Who was this girl? She had chosen out of her xenophobic people to care for him; not only a human, but a scarred and cyberneticly augmented human. Who was she, that after a mere two weeks, she was calling him out like this?
There was more to her than Jameson realized.
Inching forward, Jameson final
ly built up his original speed, gliding lonely down the vacant streets of Furrow. Most people were at the more beautiful or expensive parks this time of the evening. No one would want to hang around down by the maintenance or work areas of the Raft City.
By the time he had returned to their pier, the sun was set and the orange glow in the sky was quickly turning to faint blues and purples. Madeira was in her favorite spot, down close to the water where she let her legs dangle in. Only she didn't have her legs submerged, instead hugging them close to her chest and resting her arms and chin on top.
Without thinking, Jameson stood up, making his way down on weary legs beside her. His physical therapy was a lot further along than he realized.
Madeira must have heard him coming, because she didn't flinch or move at all, even when he sat next to her, staring out over the ocean.
"You wanna know something?" he said absently, feeling suddenly talkative.
Though he could understand if she didn't want to listen. He had been a royal dick to her earlier. Maybe he just needed to talk to himself more than anything. Sort things out.
"I was in line to be the Fleet Commander of the Gibraltar Peacemaker Fleet," he continued. "Even before that, I held the rank of a Flotilla Commander. Men and women—fellow officers and soldiers—all listened to orders I gave. I was going to lead every warship in the galaxy against enemies of Gibraltar and peace. I would have been one of the most powerful men in the galaxy. But that was just a job."
The words were flowing faster than he knew what to do with them. It felt strange.
"Because what really mattered were my friends. There were about ten of us, in a Flotilla of the Fleet competing for Command. To protect Gibraltar. We had all known each other since our parents signed the orders to ship us away to boarding schools. We were a family; and as long as we were together, it didn't really matter if we were Fleet Commanders or just regular officers."
Jameson paused, glancing sideways at Madeira out of the corner of his eye. She hadn't tuned him out; she even seemed to be listening.
"That all ended four years ago," he continued. "And you were right earlier…I have been alone that whole time. I forgot what it was like to have someone by you that you depend on. But they depend on you as well. Someone that, no matter what you're doing, it matters because they're with you."
Madeira finally glanced over at him, and Jameson turned his head to make eye contact.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I kinda checked out these last couple of weeks."
Something twinkled in her eyes, a faint smile playing at her features. "Well at least you woke up."
She reached over and hugged him. Jameson returned it, surprised that he actually understood this girl better than he realized.
Yes, he had checked out mentally, his thoughts focused on Axus and their encounter, but some of Madeira's jabbering had apparently gotten through. It just took some time for it all to assemble somewhere in his brain.
"C'mon," she began, getting to her feet. She extended a helping hand and hoisted Jameson up. How often had she done that over the last few days and he hadn't realized how strong she was? The Nereis had some extra strength hidden in their slender builds.
"Let's get back to Sergio's," she continued. "See if your parts are in."
Jameson walked beside her, leaning on his wheelchair for steadying support. He really was getting along much better than he had realized.
It was a lot different being able to walk beside Madeira now.
Beauty
Chapter 16
Beauty
* * *
Gibraltar space
Aquarius Star System, Planet Aquarius
Planetside Raft City Furrow
* * *
"Well, well, well, look who's back from the dead."
Jameson ignored the jest, quickly running through his faceplate HUD reboot. The damage was pretty bad; most of the screen was shattered, the images completely useless.
"Did I miss anything?" Jameson asked offhand, taking off his helmet. He had equipment aboard the Crimson to fix it fully, as well as replacement material for the damaged screen.
"Aside from Grade going stir crazy? Not really. A couple of Gibraltar patrol ships passed through, but didn't stop when I gave the appropriate parking codes."
Sergio's supply order had come in earlier than Jameson could have hoped. The good news was that it created a stabilizing power field that activated most of his gear, including some of his implants. The bad news was that all of it was going to need some serious repair. While the Crimson had everything he needed, it meant more time lost instead of tracking Axus.
But that could wait.
"I really thought you weren't coming back," Mathison began, his tone somber. "Every scrap of process time I wasn't spending in Aquarius surveillance looking for you was spent reprioritizing my goal seeking matrix… I literally had no idea what I was going to do."
The thought left a pit in Jameson's stomach. At the time, he was certain that he could defeat Axus. His only other thought had been that if he failed then nothing else would matter. He had been wrong.
He had been very wrong.
"I'm sorry," Jameson breathed, taking a long sigh. "I was so ready to destroy Axus. At least we have a second chance."
"This is more like chance number three for you, buddy. I can't wait to hear the whole story."
A door creaked open. Jameson glanced over his shoulder, spying Madeira peaking into the workshop.
"Everything going all right?"
"More or less. Come here; I want you to meet someone."
Madeira slid through the rest of the door, treading quickly across Sergio's empty garage to the work table where Jameson had set up. Jameson wasn't sure where the dark skinned mechanic had gotten off to for the day. Maybe a job on site.
Madeira squeezed onto the bench next to Jameson, leaning in close to his detached communications transmitter.
"Who am I talking to?" she asked curiously, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes.
"Oh, hello," Mathison replied, his tone sly. "Jameson, I see you've been making some new friends."
"Madeira, this is Mathison. He's…a MATHISON."
"Very original name," Madeira replied dryly.
Mathison chuckled. "Don't even get me started on the rhyming game we play with my name."
Madeira made a face and Jameson shrugged. Apparently in old English there was an expletive that rhymed with Mathison's name, but no one had spoken old English since the first colony ships set out from Earth nearly five thousand years ago.
"Mathison, this is Madeira. She…well, she saved my life."
Jameson explained in brief his encounter with Axus, noting as Madeira soaked it all in for the first time. He hadn't yet told her who Axus was, but she was intrigued as it was with their fight. After his defeat, he recounted Madeira's faithful care and treatment while they got his equipment working enough to send a signal to the Crimson.
"Ms. Madeira, you have my sincerest thanks," Mathison said when Jameson finished. "If you hadn't saved Jameson, I surely don't know what I would have done with myself. As a humble oversized computer, I don't do much else except take care of this guy."
"And who takes care of you?" said Madeira. "Or Jameson, for that matter, when he's not in space with you?"
Mathison chuckled. "Good question. Well Jameson, you'll be glad to know that during our conversation I not only triangulated your geographical position, but managed to get the skiff on a course to rendezvous with you. There's a public landing platform in Furrow just two blocks down from your current location."
Jameson grinned. "You don't waste any time, Mathison."
"It's really all about Grade, you see. He's so desperate for some company; I couldn't just let him wait a moment longer."
Madeira laughed. "I didn't know you had a dog."
A thought crossed Jameson's mind.
"Madeira…would you like to come to the Crimson with me?"
That gave Madeir
a pause. But he could tell she was intrigued by the offer. "Really? Right now?"
"Yeah. It's only a short flight; the Crimson is just docked in high orbit."
Madeira thought for a moment. "Aren't you getting ready to leave, though?"
