by Max Jager
Jameson chuckled. "I bet the tourists are causing all sorts of mayhem. Guess it's more work and revenue for him."
Madeira started across the roof patio towards him. "Yeah. He bitches about the tourists this time of the year, but he always brings in the most money, too. It's whatever."
She found a sunning chair across from Jameson's makeshift work table, sitting down upright, leaning forward pensively. Jameson could easily tell something was on her mind.
"So what brings you up here? Lunch ready?"
Madeira smirked sarcastically. "I knew I shouldn't have started cooking for you two. Now you see my face and automatically assume I've got food." But she wasn't really upset; just jesting with him, like when he used the word "mermaid." "I actually wanted to know if you had any luck searching for Axus."
Jameson exhaled, shaking his head. "Not really. I have a few sources in the Expanse I keep tabs with, but…he's gone. He was gone the moment he shoved me overboard."
"I figured as much," she chimed in. "So did Mathison."
Jameson glanced up, arching one eyebrow. "You two have been talking?"
Madeira grinned slyly, glancing off to the side. "We keep in touch. He helps me whenever I have questions about your gear. He also talks a lot, telling me about some of your adventures."
"Oh boy…" Jameson could just imagine the two getting into all sorts of shenanigan conversations. Mathison seemed to like the idea of having Madeira around and had opened up to her during their visit to the Crimson. It seemed he had made a point to stay in touch since.
"Anyway, we've been talking about it the last few days. When Mathison heard that I didn't think you'd find Axus's trail, we started thinking up some other ways you might find him."
Jameson didn't try to hide the surprise on his face. Maybe he should have spent more time downstairs in Sergio's garage. Just what exactly had Mathison and Madeira discussed this whole time?
"In case you're wondering," Madeira continued, "yes, Mathison basically gave me profiles on the people you've been tracking from the Peacemaker Station event. He gave me a lot of back story, too. I asked him if any of it was classified and if I shouldn't be hearing it. He said it was better to ask for forgiveness than to ask for permission."
Jameson laughed.
Two weeks ago, he would have been furious at the thought of someone like Madeira getting first hand Intel from Mathison about their work. Some of it was classified. Most of it, though, was just private information about his work as a bounty hunter that he didn't feel anyone else really needed to know. But Jameson trusted Mathison, and evidently both of them were developing a much greater sense of trust towards Madeira.
Though he was curious why she had taken such an interest in it.
Madeira smiled guiltily, though she looked relieved by Jameson's reaction. At least she knew she wasn't in trouble.
"I guess I should mention then that Mathison and I have been doing a search of our own," she continued. "We figured you should track him through one of his partners. Someone close to him; someone who is probably still in touch with him after all these years."
Jameson nodded, recognizing a similar strategy he and Mathison had employed thus far. Any time they got word on one of the traitors from the Peacemaker Fleet, Jameson always hoped it was someone who might have an existing connection with Axus. That was half the reason he accepted the offer from Admiral Nakamura. Finding Axus had always seemed to be a line that would inevitably follow from one of his associates that pulled off the Peacemaker Fleet event. The problem was that none of the traitors Jameson had captured over the last four years had any remote idea what Axus was up to. As far as they were each concerned, he was in retirement on some deep space Draconian world far beyond the reach of any Gibraltar personnel or bounty hunters looking for him.
"You'd have to find someone pretty high level," said Jameson. "While Axus had a lot of friends that turned traitor to destroy the Station, only a few worked right alongside him. You would need someone he treated almost like a number two."
"Someone like Arkus?"
Jameson blinked, sitting up straight.
At first he thought she must be suggesting a name they could hunt for. But as he read her face closer, he realized she had actually found the guy.
Commander Lats Arkus. The literal second in command of Axus's Intelligence Flotilla. Jameson still remembered how calm and homicidal he had sounded the night the rest of the Flotilla fled from the Peacemaker Station. If anyone was still in touch with Axus and his plans to bring down Gibraltar, it had to be this man.
"How did you—?"
"He made a mistake," Madeira said simply, interjecting. "Mathison was the one who spotted it, once we decided to look for him. He said everyone in hiding eventually makes a mistake. It's usually something stupid, like packing everything up and moving at the last minute."
Jameson was still blown away that Madeira and Mathison had found the bastard. And apparently he was on the move.
That meant Axus was definitely in the middle of completing his plans. If Arkus was a part of it all, then this sudden movement meant things were accelerating.
Without thinking, Jameson scooped up his helmet and made for the stairs. Wherever Arkus was, the travel time it took to get there would be more than enough for Jameson to finish his repairs and regain enough physical strength to capture him. But he had to move; move now. If he got Madeira's help, maybe he could make a single trip with his gear to the skiff…
Madeira.
Jameson hesitated, blinking when he saw that he had traveled from the roof to the garage without realizing it. He turned on his heels, spying Madeira standing hesitantly in the doorway from the main apartment. She looked utterly crestfallen as she stared down at him from up the steps.
"You've got to hurry," she said suddenly, as if sensing his uncertainty. "Mathison and I saw the passage he booked. It's at least a week's journey from here; you'll barely catch him if you leave now."
Yes, Jameson did need to leave now. But all of the sudden all he could think about were all of those damn qualifications he had filed away about Madeira. Her medical training, her basics with his tech, her experience in space…
"Madeira…you knew I couldn't stay."
She nodded, trying to put on a brave face. "Of course I did. You're a Mason," she said, trying to sound funny. "You were always going to have leave…"
A new voice had cropped up in Jameson's head. He didn't like it; it was telling him dangerous things.
She wouldn't be a rookie; she's been in space before. Not to mention all of those skills you could put to work. Do you know how nice it would be to have someone else working aboard the Crimson?
Jameson tried to quiet this new voice. The part of him that was ready to invite her along. Not as a travel companion, but as an assistant. Someone who could work alongside Mathison, feeding him Intel and data live from the Crimson. Someone who could look after Grade when he went into hostile places. Someone who could revive him if enemies shot him down on a bounty run.
Someone who could help him find Axus.
"Madeira," he began tentatively. "I have a proposition for you."
She folded her arms, waiting.
"I don't know what commitments you have…to your friends or family. I don't even know what I've kept you from these last few weeks you've been in Furrow looking after me. And I would understand—"
Madeira grunted dismissively, running down into the garage. Jameson blinked as she started gathering up his gear.
"Yes, I'll come with you. Hell, I didn't think you'd ever ask."
She quickly scurried back out of the garage into the apartment proper. Jameson blinked, watching after her, stunned. By the time he had regained his wits, he found her inside, gathering a few of her own belongings. Mostly clothing.
"You've wanted to come with me?"
She glanced at him between her packing, giving him a "no duh" expression. "I thought I got that across when you took me up to your starship. You kn
ew I wanted to travel the galaxy. And the fact is: you need me Jameson."
He smiled ruefully. "Oh, I need you?"
"Of course," she replied matter-of-factly. She had started loading a work-cart Sergio owned; Jameson was surprised that most of it was occupied by his gear. Only a simple case held Madeira's clothes and a few cosmetics. "Mathison and I have been talking it over during our work."
"Of course," Jameson replied, mimicking her tone. Naturally Mathison had an opinion on the matter. Now that he thought about it, the errant AI probably would have turned Jameson around before he got the skiff off the landing pad. Mathison would have steered him right back to Madeira.
"You need an extra pair of physical hands. Someone to actually look over you when you're away from the ship. And I am just the girl you need for the job."
"I don't know," he said, although he did in fact know.
She rolled her eyes. "Yes you do, Jameson. Now are you going to help me load this or what?"
Jameson obliged. He couldn't stop from grinning, though. In hindsight, he could see how Madeira had planned this out. She had quickly made friends with Mathison and started learning the ins-and-outs of their work aboard the Crimson. She had made herself a part of that work. And now she had given herself an opening to go out.
It was clear she had prepared for a chance like this for some time. Her hodgepodge of trade skills and knowledge meant she had always looked for some kind of opening into a career in space. Maybe she came to Furrow regularly looking for such opportunities. How else did she have an association with someone like Sergio? She was here for a reason.
When she had seen Jameson fall into the ocean, maybe she had planned for this very moment.
"You're a scheming gal, you know that?" Jameson said as they made their way down the street to the landing pad.
"I like to think of myself as an opportunist." Then her expression turned somber. "Look, Jameson. When I rescued you, I really did want to save your life."
"I know," he said simply. "I never thought of you as the conniving type."
"Oh, well that's good."
"But you do know what this means for you," he said, his tone serious. "Maybe I was just a happy ticket for you off this world. But you realize what kind of work I do. What kind of dangers I get myself into. And I don't know when the next time is that we'll even be remotely near Aquarius."
Madeira shrugged. "I always intended to leave Aquarius. My parents knew that. Anyone that's ever been friends with me knows that."
That alleviated a few of Jameson's fears. While he had been building a case subconsciously for all the reasons he should bring Madeira with him, he wasn't sure how others would feel if she up and disappeared. Would a bounty appear on the market for him?
But as he glanced down at Madeira, something told him that this wasn't the first time she had tried to leave Aquarius. There was a certain spark in those eyes; a romanticism for this kind of sudden venture. She was an adventurous soul.
Why else would she have chosen to rescue him?
Team
Chapter 18
Team
* * *
Gibraltar space
En Route to Moab Star System
* * *
The acrobats were impressive.
Jameson watched from the sidelines as Madeira navigated through several custom designed zero-g obstacle courses. Most of it was simple stuff; games Jameson and his friends had grown up playing aboard their Space Habitats. But for a planetsider…they could be considerably more difficult.
Jameson nodded with approval, however, as he watched Madeira work her way through several careful kicks, dives, and twists in the zero-g space. The trick was learning to maneuver off stationary objects and calculate momentum without friction or gravity. For many planetsiders, it took years to get used to the idea of not being able to stop yourself once you started moving down a specific trajectory.
But Madeira was a natural.
That, or, as she claimed, she had had plenty of experience during her previous jaunts into space aboard various Aquarius Space Habitats. Either way, although she looked to struggle in a couple of points, she had the concepts down.
Jameson required himself to go through these exercises repeatedly, partly as a habit carried over from his strict military lifestyle. But also to keep himself physically fit for space work. He expected no less from Madeira and she had jumped at the challenge. During their week journey thus far, he had already caught her adding a few programmed courses of her own making.
To say that Madeira was taking to life aboard the Crimson would have been an understatement. She quickly figured out the environmental controls for her cabin and had them recalibrated to a specific taste. Jameson could tell the extra humidity was to compensate for her lack of water—there were no pools aboard the Crimson. It was impressive, and Jameson didn't mind; hers and three other cabins normally went unused aboard the small ship.
Among other things, she was also monopolizing Mathison's time. He was usually always a stereo projector away from making some comment or filling Jameson in on some detail. Now that Madeira had his attention at all hours, speculating and getting up to speed on what he and Jameson had worked on for the last four years, the rest of the ship was getting awfully quiet.
As a result, Jameson found most of his time better spent wherever Madeira was aboard the ship. It kept him in the loop about whatever the two were speculating or plotting next.
At least Grade still followed him wherever he went.
"How'd I do?" Madeira asked, panting as she eased herself down onto a resting pad.
"Not bad at all," Jameson said, nodding. "Though you're still not quite ready for Likuji."
Madeira nodded, wiping some of the sweat off her cheeks and onto her kadvair. The undersuit immediately absorbed the sudden moisture, as well as the excess sweat running down her cheeks and neck. It surprised Jameson that she had never owned a kadvair, much less worn one besides her few previous visits to space.
"Nereis don't really need them," she had explained. "The ocean acts as a kind of gigantic kadvair in that regards. It even supplies us with nutrients."
"Well, while we're in space and on missions, you know you'll have to wear one."
She of course knew that; had expected it, traveling through space. But while Jameson still had plenty of Fleet issued kadvairs, they had to pick up a civilian model at an outlet aboard one of the Space Habitats orbiting Aquarius.
"I'm not wearing your undies," she had replied, folding her arms.
"It's not technically underwear. And it has nano-fibers that adjust to your physiology."
"I'm still not wearing your undies. That's just gross. And wrong on so many levels."
That's how she had ended up with the bright white civilian kadvair she now currently adorned. It was marketed as both workout friendly and up to space code. At least she had stayed away from the crazy color schemes or patterns that were popular among various social trends these days. Her current choice was much more conservative in pattern and layout, for which Jameson was eternally grateful.
Especially since it tended to be all she wore around the ship most days.
"I wore less when we were on Aquarius," she countered once when he brought it up. "Nereis don't ever wear that much. Clothing weighs you down under water."
"Well we're not under water. We're on board a ship. My ship. And I know you feel like it covers up, but you're still just running around in your underwear."
Madeira's eyes burned with triumph and she cast an accusing finger at him. "Ah HA! So they are undies."
The memory made Jameson chuckle aloud.
"What?" Madeira asked, wiping off her face with a towel.
"Nothing." It certainly had been interesting having a new personality to fill space aboard the Crimson. Jameson was just glad he was in a better frame of mind these days to deal with it. Had Madeira showed up aboard a month ago, he would have been tempted at the time to throw her out the nearest airlock.
Living with another person was a big change.
"So when do we start the Likuji training?" she asked, throwing the towel aside. Clingers caught it as it drifted through zero-g, pulling it into a dispensary in the wall where automated systems cleaned and stored it away.
"Soon," Jameson assured her. "I just want you to build up your resistance a little more and get a better feel for zero-g. We're in no rush."
Madeira made a pouty face that begged to differ. But Jameson was going to put his foot down on this one. While the style of fighting was straightforward enough, he would have to hit back to properly train her. Hard. And unless Madeira was in the best shape, she would likely resent him for it.