Bounty's Call

by Max Jager

  "Then how the hell do we know about it?"

  "Gibraltar tries to keep tabs on the main Cannons Draconia has sprinkled around their territory. No one knows about any this close to the border with the Expanse. But that's where Axus needs to go to initiate the plan and commence first strike. He wouldn't want to waste time travelling deep into Draconia space. Especially now that he knows I'm still alive and after him. No, he'll use a classified location; one Draconia thinks they've hidden from the rest of the galaxy."

  "It gets worse," Mathison added. "The corrupt MATHISON on Andorra is operating from a secure server hard lined into the mainframe. Any time I try shunting it around, the MATHISON doubles back and reasserts its place. Otherwise I'd purge it from the database and deny Axus the key signal he needs."

  "And we don't have time to go back to Andorra and root around for the hidden server," Jameson pressed. "Axus probably had backups. With more time we could root it out…but time is running out fast."

  "Yeah," said Mathison. "We know one way for sure to track its exact location. It'll have to broadcast a long sequence to Axus with the coords when it's time to launch first strike. That's more than enough time to lock it down and decompile it. But it wouldn't be enough time for me to hack the signal and prevent the Draconian Strategic Grid from getting solid target locks."

  "You take out the MATHISON," Madeira began, understanding, "but then Draconia takes out everyone else."

  "Precisely."

  Madeira frowned. She stood up, pacing around the table. Eventually she kicked off gently, floating into null space laterally. Resting on her stomach in the zero-g, she floated towards a monitor, looking at the diagram Mathison had on display. It showed Andorra deep within Gibraltar space, a line tracing the signal's path to the projected location of Axus's secret cannon platform.

  "I'm still trying to wrap my head around how everything is so instantaneous."

  Jameson cocked his head, watching her muse. "It's pretty basic. The Strategic Cannons work much like the superluminal communications grid and net. They both run on Lauritzen tech."

  "It's ingeniously terrifying," Mathison added. "The cannons beam energy instantly across vast distances of space at targets thousands of lightyears away."

  "Yeah, but the same doesn't work for space travel," Madeira said, glancing down at Jameson. Or up, as might be construed from her perspective.

  "C'mon, Madeira," Jameson teased. "You studied space flight, but you never understood that basic principle? Energy and information are distributed much faster via Lauritzen fields. Matter, like a friggin' heavy starship, has a much bigger impact on space-time. The Lauritzen field can't zap that across the cosmos so easily."

  "And that's why it's so hard to stop Axus?"

  "Precisely," said Mathison. "As soon as the corrupt MATHISON inputs the location of all Gibraltar Cannons, the Draconians can open fire. The reason the corrupt MATHISON is waiting for a signal from Axus is because he has one shot; as soon as a MATHISON in Gibraltar starts sending signals to Draconia, they'll know something is up and launch into action. They're waiting for just the right moment."

  Jameson exhaled loudly. "I think it may be time to take things to Gibraltar. They deserve to know. And maybe they already have plans to escape this checkmate."

  0.0.0

  They moved back to the bridge. Jameson felt it only right to make this official. Rappel would want it that way.

  Plus the guy would probably only take him seriously if it were this way. He couldn't see this conversation happening back in the galley. That…that would just irk Rappel more than he probably already was.

  "We have a connection," Mathison suddenly chimed in, surprise evident in his voice.

  "That was fast," Madeira muttered.

  Jameson thought he knew why. "Well, don't keep the poor man waiting."

  Across vast lightyears of space, deep within the heart of Gibraltar out to where the Crimson raced over the last of the Expanse to Draconia, Rappel's face appeared on screen. He looked unsettled.

  "Jameson," he began with a sigh. "You're in a bit of trouble with Fleet Command."

  Jameson shrugged, resisting the urge to retract his faceplate. No, Rappel needed to look him in the eye. See that this was urgent.

  "I figured as much," he eventually replied.

  Rappel growled, rolling his eyes. "Damn it, Gray, what the hell were you thinking?"

  Jameson folded his arms. "And just how much did Torik tell you?" He assumed that's who would have notified him. Rappel was too far out of the loop overseeing his auxiliary fleet to have heard word. That was the great thing about old friends: they kept you apprised of the stupid things other old friends were up to.

  At least for the few still alive.

  "No more than what was already posted in Fleet transmissions," said Rappel. "That you were snooping around classified materials using highly illegal software. Why? Do you know that Fleet Intelligence has a bounty on your head now? What the hell did you even read?"

  "Torik doesn't know, then?"

  "Know what?"

  That was good. It meant that Torik was absolved of whatever evils Command had planned with Helios-One. As far as his old friends knew, Jameson was just sticking his nose where it didn't belong.

  Also, it seemed Command was aware their secrets were out.

  "Listen, Rappel; we don't have a lot of time. I had to come to you because I know Torik probably feels betrayed right now, and we need to get past formalities."

  "Then spit it out. The fact that I'm having this conversation without reporting you is rationale for my court-martial."

  Jameson sucked in a long breath. "Axus is getting ready to spearhead a first strike from Draconia. We have maybe a week tops."

  Rappel groaned, bowing his head, shaking it.

  "You don't believe me?"

  "Jameson, did you really call me just to state the obvious?"

  Jameson blinked. Had he missed something? Were Gibraltar ships mobilizing at this moment for war?

  "Fleet Command has been on high alert for awhile," Rappel continued. "We're all preparing for an immediate response. As far as I'm concerned, the attack could come tonight. Why are you so sure it's coming next week?"

  Shit. Jameson realized something. "What did Fleet Command tell you exactly?"

  Rappel shrugged. "The same thing they always say every briefing. That hostilities with Draconia are rising daily; diplomacy is breaking down. Warships are moving. Though no one's said anything about Axus except you. Are you sure the guy is an active element in all of this?"

  Jameson held back a curse. His eyes grew distant, losing focus on Rappel.

  Suddenly Strange's words seemed prophetic. Gibraltar was going to have their war. Regardless of Axus moving in the shadows, they were building up this rhetoric and propaganda that Draconia was readying to strike. And they were disseminating it down to their top Fleet Commanders.

  Rappel had no idea that he was a pawn for something else entirely.

  "Rappel…" Jameson began tentatively. "This will take too long to explain. But Fleet Command isn't planning a defensive first strike; they're planning a war of conquest."

  Rappel snorted. "That's preposterous! Treasonous, even."

  Jameson grunted, tapping into his personal files. "Yeah, well, we'll see how you feel about that after you have a look at these."

  He selected the summary files Mathison had scooped up on Helios-One. Those would be enough to convey the strategic plans Gibraltar had in mind. The Kraven Approach and others were already in Rappel's possession, guised as defensive strategies.

  Rappel blinked, watching the files stream into his database across the galaxy. "And what am I supposed to do afterwards?"

  "Form a circle of trust. Get in touch with the rest of the old friends in the Eighth Flotilla. The ones still alive. Things need to change in Gibraltar command…if we survive what Axus is planning."

  Rappel looked dubious, but there was little to help that. He'd been veiled under the sam
e lies that Jameson had eaten up for the last six years. Only recent events had shown him the truth.

  Either way, this call was turning into a dead end.

  "Look, Rappel, I need to go." Jameson shifted uncomfortably. "Do what you gotta do; report that I contacted you. But make sure you read those files in confidence before the Fleet swipes them away. Condemn me if you want afterwards."

  They said their goodbyes and then Jameson promptly killed the comm link. Not that it mattered; Fleet couldn't do much with them this far across the galaxy, essentially on Draconia's doorstep. He was going to miss their paychecks, though.

  "Well that went well," Mathison chimed sarcastically.

  Madeira groaned, running a hand down her face. "Now what do we do? Gibraltar isn't looking for a threat because they've already imagined up one they can start a war over."

  Jameson nodded, sinking back in his command chair. "Sounding the alarms is worthless. Even if we convinced someone that the attack is really about to go down, they'd just use it as an excuse to start an early conquest."

  "Yeah, and not doing anything is going to give Draconia time to slaughter more than just Gibraltarian military assets," said Mathison.

  "This is insane!" Madeira cried out. "Whichever side we help, the other side gets wiped out!"

  Jameson nodded glumly.

  They had gone beyond Mutually Assured Destruction. Only one side was going to escape annihilation; either they warned Gibraltar and let them slaughter Draconia, or they did nothing and let Axus lead Draconia to massacre Gibraltar. Either way, billions were going to die next week.

  And somehow Jameson had been chosen to pick who would live and who would die.

  0.0.0

  Jameson grunted, turning over in his bed.

  Grade had long since left him. Jameson's insomnia tonight had turned into a noisy creature, irritating the poor animal to other, quieter parts of the ship. Jameson suspected he wouldn't get much sleep in the coming days. It didn't help that they were crossing into Draconian space some time tonight.

  Time was almost up, and he still hadn't made a decision.

  Jameson exhaled, lying flat on his back and staring up at the ceiling, watching lights wink in and out across the surface of various devices. He had to pick someone; someone to win. In his heart, he knew he always wanted it to be Gibraltar. It was his country. Even thinking about it brought back the familiar rising notes of the Fleet Anthem.

  But in the darkness, those familiar notes seemed hollow and distorted. Gibraltar had a right to defend itself and prepare for inevitable conflict—but not conquest. He couldn't stand the thought of ships like the Victorious cruising sinisterly between Draconian worlds, burning them with the horrific Helios-One radiation.

  Jameson was well aware of what that beastly stuff could do to a person.

  Still, conquest or not, Helios-One or not, Jameson could never let Axus get away with such evil. He would never allow himself to sit by idly while that man led Draconia into a hope-crushing subjugation of Gibraltar. He was going to beat the people into the same kind of submission Jameson may have done once upon a time to Kraven, if Axus hadn't played God with time itself.

  Jameson lurched at the sound of Mathison's comm chime. He usually did that in the night to let Jameson know he was about to speak. It scared the crap out of him at the moment.

  "We just crossed over into Draconia space."

  Jameson exhaled. "We're here."

  "We're still a few lightyears behind Axus, which is probably for the best. I pegged his destination coords and it looks like we're going into a very restricted fly zone. The moment we enter it, Draconia warships will no doubt respond quickly."

  "How long do we have?"

  "About thirty hours."

  Thirty hours until they crossed the point of no return. Thirty hours to solve the defining moral dilemma that would forever alter the course of human history across the galaxy.

  "We'll have a really brief opportunity to dispatch Axus and that's it," Mathison continued. "If you're going to try warning Gibraltar again, now's the time."

  Jameson grunted in acknowledgement, pushing himself up out of bed. Not bothering to put on his gear, he strode in his kadvair in the general direction of the gym. He wasn't going to get any sleep, and he really just needed to get it through his head what he wanted to do.

  He should just tell Gibraltar to go to war. Maybe see how fast they could whip their partial Fleets together.

  Halfway down the corridor to the gym, Jameson froze, a familiar melody creeping into his ears. It was Madeira's vocalizations again. He swallowed hard, but after a moment the faint song seemed to have no hypnotizing effect on his mind.

  He sighed in relief, leaning against the wall for support. Absently, Jameson listened, realizing that it wasn't just vocalizations. There were words in there; soft, but sincere and passionate. It was really quite beautiful, but deluded by distance from wherever she was in the ship.

  Following the sound, he floated through zero-g down to the lower deck of the Crimson, where storage and cryo was located. He hadn't been down here for awhile; not since he stopped hunting traitors.

  He found her in cryo, sitting among the quiet machinery, backed into a little alcove that seemed to amplify the acoustics of her voice. She smiled as he walked in, still continuing her enchanting song. Up close now, he realized she was singing in a different language. Perhaps Nereis; he didn't recognize it.

  It was almost better that way. The sound of her voice didn't need to be interrupted by whatever words she spoke.

  Walking softly, Jameson padded around to where she sat in the confined space, sitting directly across from her in a similar alcove. The space was much smaller than Jameson realized, and with both their legs stretched out, their feet touched easily. Without realizing, Jameson had mentally commanded the kadvair material around his feet to retract, letting the bare flesh on his remaining foot touch Madeira's bare foot.

  Jameson wasn't sure how long they sat in the quiet recesses of the Crimson's deep belly, but he almost felt himself slip off to sleep several times. There was a peaceful lulling effect to her music. Jameson had never believed much in lullabies, but he was willing to revise that now.

  Then Madeira was quiet, the song having come to a gentle end. She leaned to one side, resting her head against one of the cryo units.

  "Couldn't sleep?" she asked cheerfully.

  Jameson yawned. "Not before. But maybe I just needed a song."

  Madeira grinned mischievously. "If you think I signed up to sing you to sleep every night, you've got another thing coming."

  Jameson returned the grin, trying not to let his heavy-eyelids droop. "My ship; my rules."

  Madeira glanced away slyly. Suddenly Jameson couldn't help but think about the spontaneous kiss she had shared with him back on Kraven.

  "I might be persuaded to break out a song every now and then…"

  "I didn't know the Nereis sang for recreation."

  "We're not trying to hypnotize everyone, now."

  "I dunno; that was pretty hypnotizing there for a bit."

  She rolled her eyes playfully. "You're just not as strong minded as you'd like to think."

  "Apparently not. You cracked me open after a few days on Aquarius."

  "Damn straight. And don't you forget it."

  The two of them lulled into silence, absently rolling their feet back and forth off the bottoms of each other. Madeira giggled at one point from a brief tickle.

  "I hate to break things up," Mathison bugged in, "but you're going to want to hear this, Jameson."

  Jameson sighed, the momentary respite quickly fleeing from him. He nodded to Mathison's omnipresent eyes and ears. "Let's have it, then."

  Mathison cleared his throat—a completely irrelevant mannerism for an AI. "I just received two separate but coordinated communiqués from Torik and Rappel."

  Madeira perked up. "They want to talk now?"

  "Not face-to-face. The messages were text only. But
both of them seem to have come to their senses and realize that you were right about Axus." Mathison chuckled. "A good chunk of Rappel's letter is begging for your forgiveness. Apparently he feels pretty bad about chewing you out the other day."

  "He better," Jameson grumbled. "Good to hear they're onboard. Maybe we can coordinate some kind of strike against Axus before this goes down. Maybe they can convince High Command not to turn this into a war for conquest."

  "You think so?" Madeira asked hopefully.

  Jameson opened his mouth to reply, but hesitated.