Unfathomed (The Locus Series Book 1)

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Unfathomed (The Locus Series Book 1) Page 28

by Ralph Kern


  “I want Grayson,” Slater called after them. The door slid shut behind the two men’s backs as they left.

  ***

  “Well, that didn’t go well for ‘em.” Wakefield’s feet were resting on his desk, watching the exchange on the huge TV screen on his office wall.

  “You want to intervene further?” Richard Hogarth, the Osiris’s captain, asked. “Commander Slater looks pissed. If this goes south, Ignatius looks hurt bad, but I still wouldn’t put a bet on that we can take her. She’s designed from the keel up to take hits. She only needs to land one good one on us and we’re done.”

  “Nah, fuck ‘em.” Wakefield swung his legs off the desk. “They’re just posturing. We have everything we need to start afresh, they don’t—not individually, anyway. They work it out or they don’t. Them being here is a bonus. We always knew others were going to get caught up in the Singlet beam, it’s just that somehow we managed to catch a bunch of real assholes.”

  “We could always go after the Titan’s fleet?” Hogarth phrased his statement as a question.

  “Richard,” Wakefield became deadly serious, switching off the false joviality he had previously showed. “We’re here to save the human race. Frankly, we can do without bringing conflict into our brave new world. I’m not going to attack Ignatius, Titan, or anyone else if I can help it. We have given them information, they can make of it what they will.”

  Chapter 66 – Day 25

  It was past midnight by the time Bautista had returned to the Liliana. Grayson stood on the shattered bridge, lost in thought as he gazed at the sleek superyacht alongside.

  The luxurious craft was familiar to him. Every line had been burned into his memory, even obscured as they were by the equipment and weapons that had been bolted on. But it was something he had never expected to see again. Not after so many years.

  Memories that had been filed away as irrelevant to his current situation were beginning to emerge. Memories that told—

  “I’m taking you home, Karl.” Bautista had paced quietly onto the bridge and stood alongside Grayson.

  Grayson started, before turning to look at his friend. “Home?”

  “To the Titan, to Kristen and James.”

  “It’s not really our home though, is it?” Grayson said.

  “No, and we’ll never be going there again. Home is where we make it now.”

  Grayson listened in dim shock as Bautista explained, as best he could in his ill-educated way, what Wakefield had told him and Vaughan’s decision to leave. And he told Grayson of Slater’s demand.

  Grayson turned and looked at the distant Atlantica, brightly lit against the nighttime sky, the smaller speck of the Ignatius next to her. “You know Slater will follow us. She wants me; I hurt her ship. And Kendricks? I did something far worse to his ship and to his crew, Urbano. I killed someone on there.”

  “We’ve all killed people.”

  “Yes, but that was battle. Slater gets that, even the crew of Atlantica, I reckon. They might not forgive it, but they understand it. No, what I did was cold-blooded murder.” Grayson held up two bunched fists. “With my bare hands.”

  Bautista turned and looked at him, a flicker of calculation behind his battle-weary eyes.

  “So to bring peace, they will need a sacrifice on the altar of justice.”

  “They do, Urbano.” Grayson leaned forward on the console. “But not yet. Take me back to my family. I want to see them first. Then we’ll do what we have to do.”

  ***

  ”Shit,” Donovan said. The color had completely drained from his face.

  A flicker of a smile washed over Kendricks’s face. He had expected nothing worse than “Gosh” from Donovan. Slater’s summary of events had been concise, to the point, and emotionless in its delivery. Donovan’s single word response spoke volumes of his worry.

  “So what now, ma’am?”

  “I don’t know, Perry. I just don’t know. But what I am sure of is that it is incumbent on you, me, and the other senior officers to look after the welfare of our crew,” Slater said.

  These two are soldiers without a country, along with the rest of the crew of the Ignatius, Kendricks thought. He frowned gently at himself. Was he being disingenuous by wondering if they would now exert their authority in a benevolent, or not so benevolent dictatorship? After all, if they wanted anything from the Atlantica, they could just take it.

  “Your mission,” Jack finally said as he reached across to Laurie and placed his hand over hers on the cramped Ignatius wardroom table. “Our mission, has not changed. We still have people to protect. People who in turn will provide for us and entrust us. To my mind, the model still works. It’s just on a much smaller scale.”

  “Young Jack makes a valid point,” Reynolds broke in. “Heather, the Ignatius and her crew still have a purpose in this new world. It’s the six thousand people on board we still have to find direction and hope for. And that is something we need to give them.”

  “And you have an idea?” Slater asked.

  “Yes.” Reynolds gestured at the bulkhead upon which a screen print of the map from the LEAP was hung. “Mainland America. It’s a lot further away than we expected. But we can make it, quite easily. Once there, we can hopefully renew our farming efforts and, well, begin the process of rebuilding civilization.”

  “And the pirates?”

  “We, and they, have a decision to make. Are we going to move forward together? With each other we’ll be far more than the sum of our parts. They must know that.”

  Chapter 67 – Day 25

  The hatch swung open with a creak.

  “Dad!” The boy darted away from his mother straight toward Grayson, who was already kneeling to accept James with open arms.

  “Hey, little fella.” Grayson clutched the boy to him so tightly the child gasped. He hadn’t seen him in a month. A month that felt like a lifetime. “You been looking after you mom?”

  “Yes he has,” Kristen said, wrapping her arms around both of them, squeezing the boy even more tightly between them. “Tell me you’re not going away on one of those damn scouting missions again?”

  “No, he’s not.”

  Grayson had dimly realized that Vaughan, and two crewmembers who seemed suspiciously muscular, had been in the room. Realized and not cared. Now Vaughan stood and approached the family, reaching out his left hand as he did so, his other in a sling.

  “Well done, Karl.”

  Standing, Grayson regarded the man who had given him a new mission since he had arrived here. In many ways, being welcomed into the community had been responsible for his meeting of Kristen, and his son’s existence.

  But Vaughan was responsible for what could best be described as the piratical political system they had adopted, too.

  “And, Urbano. Welcome back to the Titan as well, I suppose.” Vaughan gave a false smile. “We will have to have a chat about your actions at the locus later, though.”

  “Sooner rather than later,” Bautista nodded in agreement.

  Vaughan gave a frown. “Always good to clear the air.”

  “Honey.” Grayson kissed Kristen on the forehead. Letting it linger there for a moment. “I just have to have a chat with Eric. Then I’ll come join you and James.”

  “Okay.” A flicker of disappointment crossed Kristen’s face. “But hurry. We’re down on deck three. Someone down there will point you in the right direction.”

  “Thanks, honey.” Giving her another kiss, Grayson released his wife and watched his family leave the cabin. He turned to Vaughan. “We have a lot to talk about.”

  “Yes we do,” Vaughan sighed. “Slater and Kendricks want you. I don’t think they’ll stop until they have you, and that puts us in an uncomfortable position.”

  “That’s an understatement, Eric.” Grayson looked around the room. The two crewmembers were leaning idly against the wall. Grayson gave a mental nod to himself as he saw one of them clench and unclench his fist. Their idle demeanor was a
show. These two were ready.

  “You understand, I don’t want to give you to them, don’t you?”

  “I do.”

  “And you do know it would be in the best interests of your family if you were to go without any fuss or bother. We can then just sail away into the sunset and never see the Ignatius, Atlantica, or anyone else who can bother us again.”

  “The best interests of my family?” Grayson’s voice was little more than a whisper. “Are you threatening them again? I thought we’d discussed your motivational techniques before, Eric, and how much I disapprove of them.”

  The two men stood straight, and from the corner of his eye he could see Bautista moving closer to his left side.

  “You know me, Karl. I never like to threaten. But the thing is—”

  Grayson snatched the gun Bautista had given him from the back of his waistband. Smoothly but quickly he brought it up, sighted along it, and pulled the trigger. The shot was loud in the confined cabin. A red circle, the size of a dime, appeared on Vaughan’s forehead. The bulkhead behind splattered with blood.

  As Vaughan sank to his knees, Grayson trained his gun on the crewman to the right, Bautista aiming his own weapon at other.

  “The thing is,” Bautista finished Vaughan’s sentence, “someone has to pay the price. Please, drop your weapons. There need be no more killing.”

  The two crewmen had only managed to grip their own weapons and half draw them from their holsters. Slowly, they knelt down and placed their guns on the deck.

  Grayson cocked his head as he looked at the body of Vaughan, slumped on the deck. He felt no sympathy for the man and he suspected Bautista had less. He had wanted nothing more than his own empire, at any cost.

  “So, Urbano...” Grayson’s weapon was still trained on the crewman. “It’s time to ask them if this is a suitable sacrifice for that altar of peace you were talking about.”

  ***

  “Message on Channel 16, sir. It’s from the Titan.”

  Kendricks turned from where he stood, hands clasped behind his back staring out at the superyacht and pirate fleet beyond.

  “Let’s hear what Vaughan has to say. Put it through the speakers, Kelly.”

  “It’s a different voice. Not Vaughan.”

  “Oh? Put it through anyway.”

  “Captain Slater, Captain Kendricks, and the other man who seems to be in charge,” the thickly accented voice said. “We of the Titan wish to stop all fighting between us and talk about joining together.”

  Kendricks blinked in surprise. Why would the tone change so much?

  “Identify yourself,” Kendricks heard Slater demand.

  “I am Urbano Fernandez Bautista. I am now the leader of this community.”

  “Bautista, this is Atlantica. Why the sudden change of heart?”

  “You heard the man on the nice boat. Things have changed. Our leadership has changed to reflect that.”

  “And where is Vaughan now?” Kendricks asked.

  “Vaughan led this fleet into war with you,” Bautista’s voice, even over the radio, was earnest. Kendricks could tell he wanted to be listened to. “That war killed people on both sides. For that, we are sorry. Justice has been provided. Vaughan is no longer an issue.”

  So Vaughan’s dead, Kendricks thought. He surprised himself. The man of a month ago would have been horrified that someone he had spoken to less than a day before had been executed. Now, Kendricks felt nothing, other than perhaps a glimmer of satisfaction.

  “I’m afraid not, Mister Bautista,” Slater’s voice was cold, cutting across the coms. “We require Karl Grayson to be delivered to us, along with the rest of the leadership of your fleet, and the hostages too, of course. If you care about your people, that will be done.”

  There was a pregnant pause from the radio speaker. Kendricks looked at the grill.

  “Your hostages will be released as soon as we load them onto the boats. This is a gesture of goodwill.”

  “And the rest of my terms?” Slater asked.

  “No. Captain Slater, you are a soldier, no? Grayson was a bullet. Our fleet was a gun, but Eric Vaughan pulled the trigger—”

  “I’m not going to debate warrior philosophy with you. My terms or none.”

  “Then we leave,” Bautista said, his voice as firm as Slater’s. “But consider this. We have resources, fuel, and enough food to more than last until we reach the coast. That we will provide for you in recompense. In return we wish two things, to join your fleet as equal partners and, what is the word? Amnesty, yes amnesty for past actions.”

  “Wait, out,” Slater said.

  A moment later, Kendricks’s phone began buzzing in his pocket. Pulling it out, he saw it was Slater calling him.

  “What do you think?” Slater asked without preamble. “Is he bullshitting us?”

  “Heather, I want Grayson and Bautista hung from the yardarm as much as you. Those bastards attacked my ship and killed my crew.”

  “I sense a but.”

  “But, you heard Wakefield. We have to start thinking bigger. We might be the only people left. Can we really afford to cut them loose?”

  “Liam, I can just take the Titan.”

  “Before they scuttle her or do something equally silly?”

  “Possibly,” Slater said slowly.

  “And how many more would die, Heather?”

  “Lots, probably.”

  “You want to run it past John Reynolds? And Jack Cohen?”

  “Yes... no.” Slater sighed. “As much as it galls me to say, I can understand Bautista’s actions. In his own way, he is a soldier. Grayson is something different. He’s a goddamn American. How could he have done this?”

  “Trust me, I want him as much as you. Could we not say yes and, I don’t know, arrest him later?”

  There was a silence on the phone before finally Slater spoke wistfully. “That would be the easy solution, Liam, but not the honorable one. I’m an officer. My word is my bond. I would put that bastard in front of a firing squad in a heartbeat as part of either negotiations or a judicial process. I should not, however, lie, kidnap, and then murder him.”

  Kendricks smiled for what felt like the first time in a long time as his admiration for the woman grew. “I’m very pleased to hear that.”

  “Liam, Atlantica’s been wronged the most. You have the largest complement of people to look after. Until we decide otherwise, the model of government works. Your call. You are the taxpayer, after all.”

  Kendricks could sense her wry smile through the phone. Lowering it, he nodded at Maine to activate the bridge mic.

  “Mister Bautista?” Kendricks said formally. “Terms accepted.”

  “Thank you.” The relief in Bautista’s voice was palpable.

  “But, even if your people and ours become the most bosom of buddies, Grayson comes nowhere near my ship, the Ignatius, or our people. If he does, he’ll be detained on sight, tried, and fucking executed. Understood?”

  “Understood.”

  “Lady and gentlemen,” Wakefield’s voice came over the speakers. Kendricks was unsurprised he had been listening in. “I knew you had it in you to come to a mutually acceptable position. Bravo.”

  What a cocky asshole, Kendricks thought.

  Chapter 68 – Day 26

  The quiet and subdued—or sullen—passengers and crew of the Atlantica filled the promenade in front and behind the span.

  Kendricks gave a slight swallow. He had never addressed so many people at once. A mass of people filled the promenade. Nearly every one of the six thousand passengers and crewmembers who could be excused from duties were crowded before and behind him.

  Rallying himself, Kendricks started. “Passengers and crew of the Atlantica, I have called you here to tell you of the extraordinary situation we have found ourselves in, and what we’re doing about it.”

  Kendricks lowered his head, taking a moment. How did you tell people that everyone they ever knew were gone and long dead? How did you
tell them they had found themselves thrust far in the future? It was fantastical, inconceivable... and terrifying.

  “I have thought long and hard about how to tell you this news. And if I’m honest, I even considered if I should tell you.” A murmur washed over the crowd, the collective reaction to his somber tone. “The first thing you may be curious of, is that Captain Solberg has, unfortunately, been taken ill. For the time being, I am taking on his duties and I fully intend to step up to the plate. Your team is here for you, and you are safe.”

  Kendricks paused, giving the crowd a moment. “But that is not the most significant news. We have established where we are. Or more accurately, when we are.”

  Once again, Kendricks gave the crowd a moment to take in his wording. This was the bit they had elected to be somewhat sparing with the truth, lest the passengers and crew demand action against the Osiris for what they might view as a wholesale kidnapping. “By means we do not fully understand, we have been thrust far into the future, so far it is difficult to imagine. In that time, the world has changed and the continents have moved. That is why we have not been able to locate land. And that is why home, as we know it, no longer exists.”

  The shouts and cries that erupted created an unintelligible wall of sound. This was the moment Kendricks had feared, and what they had debated for hours. Jack Cohen had been a staunch advocate of simply locking everyone in their rooms and telling them there, over the TV PA system. At least that way, the shattered remnants of the security team wouldn’t have a full-scale riot to contend with. In the end, Kendricks had decided that if this new world were to work, it had to be built on trust, and that would only work if he, the captain, made the first gesture.

  “Please,” Kendricks repeated. “I need you to listen and be calm.”

  For long moments Kendricks feared violence was going to erupt. He waved Carrie over. “Turn the volume up full, as loud as you can.”

 

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