Chapter Thirteen: Hopes and Dreams

The sun shone brightly over the Candy Kingdom as the Captain and the Princess strolled through the garden. Butterflies flew carefree about the fruit gummy trees and the delicate flowers. Songbirds chirped pleasant tunes that carried through the air. The air was sweet and crisp. To the casual observer, it was a perfect day. But all was not well.

Warren was no casual observer. Shaped by intense training and the experience of war, invisible red flags dotted the scene. The Gumball Guardians were absent from the walls, still out of commission from the battle now two weeks ago. Banana Guards patrolled the walls as sentries in their place, supplemented by volunteer Civil Defense personnel. The Candy People, normally social and lively, walked the streets in near silence, focused on their business and little else. Indeed, the amount of time he had spent with Princess Bubblegum lately would certainly have been the talk of the town otherwise.

The amount of time she had spared for him lately wasn't the only change Warren had noticed about the Princess, for that matter. There was something different about her appearance, though he couldn't quite place his finger on what. Perhaps he was just being paranoid given his ulterior motives, but somehow his instincts told him his inner reservations were valid. Spying was never something that he felt comfortable performing, though perhaps spying was a harsh word. His discrete investigation seemed to validate at least one of the Veritas Brigade's claims thus far. Even in this tranquil garden, he caught a glint of light off a camera lens tucked away in the foliage of a bush. Who but Bubblegum knew how many there were total?

For one whose activities concerned him so, Bubblegum was actually quite pleasant to be around, however. It turned out they shared a good number of interests and tastes. They had even found and watched an old pre-war holovid that was among both their favorites. Warren also couldn't help but admire her intelligence and passion for knowledge. They had already had several deep and engaging conversations on matters of science, philosophy, history, art, and culture.

"Are you thirsty at all?" she asked as they ambled.

"A little, I suppose," he replied, cocking his head to the side.

"Would you care to continue our discussion over some tea in my personal chambers?" she asked softly and politely.

Bubblegum's personal chambers? Warren hesitated for a moment before answering.

"I'd like that very much, but I'll leave the final decision to you, if you don't mind."

Bubblegum smiled.

"Follow me,"

The journey did not take long, but Warren found it slightly awkward nonetheless. He kept quiet as she led him. When they reached her room, the suited mint was already standing outside with a platter of tea.

"Thank you, Peppermint Butler."

They entered, and the mint proceeded to set a small table on the far side of the room from her bed. They got situated, the butler bowed, and left. Bubblegum spooned some sugar into her tea and delicately raised her cup.

"Where were we?" she asked semi-rhetorically.

"Well, we were discussing the concept of transition between integers if there's an infinite number of decimals in between them…" he didn't quite finish his sentence.

"Is something wrong?" she asked sweetly, taking a sip of her tea.

"No, it's not that," he shifted in his seat. "It's just that the setting seems a bit… personal."

"Yeah, well…" she said almost in a whisper. Even through her pink cheeks Warren could tell she was blushing slightly. "There's something I wanted to show you, if that's alright."

"What is it?" Warren asked. His mind was racing, and as much as he didn't want to admit it, he was downright embarrassed about some of the places it was taking him.

"Something very old and very precious to me," she replied, smiling.

Warren felt somewhat relieved, but now he practically itched with curiosity. She rose slowly and smiled, her eyes asking him to follow. Slowly, he rose. Smiling wider, she led him to one of the many dressers in the room. Pulling it open revealed a large electronic touchpad screen in place of hanging clothes. She punched in a long string of codes, and the drawers began to re-arrange themselves.

A glass case rose from the drawers, sealed and armored around the sides, like the kind of safe box Warren had seen in pre-war museums to seal and climate control precious artifacts. In it was a small book. There were scorch marks on its cover amidst the general wear; the pages between were ragged on the edges and bright yellow with age. Despite its damage, it was clear that this was a children's story book from before the war. The touchscreen now displayed large-print text.

"Das Reich der Sonne" he read aloud. Touching the screen and sweeping his fingers across, the digital pages turned, and he silently read the contents within.

The tale began describing a world in despair, fraught with evil and suffering. In the midst of this darkness, a kingdom struggles to survive as it is left bereft of its king and queen while corrupt bureaucrats, military warlords, and outside menaces fight for the last scraps of the dying land. The kingdom's young princess cannot bear to witness the cruelty and injustices of this harsh world, and takes it upon herself to defend the innocent, serving as the sentinel and protector of her people, and though they face many harrowing challenges, they prosper under her leadership. Nearby communities follow their example, and together they begin to rebuild the lost beauty of their world.

"This was the first book I ever read," Bubblegum explained. "When I was little, I idolized that princess. She was just a storybook character, but she was my hero. I used to pretend to be her, champion of justice and peace. In time as I learned and grew, I became less enamored with the character and more with the ideas she represented. Her creators believed that one light in the darkness could trigger the beginning of something bright and beautiful. It was an inspiring vision."

"Indeed," Warren agreed.

"I've dedicated my life to making that vision a reality. Life's never as simple as in the stories, of course. I've had to make a lot of tough decisions over the years, and I'm not always proud of them," she admitted, hanging her head. "I've never really talked to anyone about all this. Not even Peppermint Butler. The Candy People are like my children, but children don't always make the best confidants."

Warren eyed the Princess as she seemed to fumble for words.

"I suppose what I'm trying to say is that I'm very happy I can call you a friend, Gary," she said, smiling sheepishly and blushing slightly.

"I'm honored, Bonnie. I'm glad I can say the same of you."

They returned to their tea shortly thereafter and after about a half an hour of regular conversation, it was time for Warren to head for home; a log cabin about halfway between Finn and Jake's tree house and Raven Rock. It would be an hour drive, at least, and with an unlit makeshift dirt path, he would need all the visibility he could get. The now-closer friends said their goodbyes and Warren began to make his way out of the castle. Then he heard something.

A squeak. Looking around, it didn't take him long to find the source. Science the rat lurked in a doorway. Not looking directly at it in case there were cameras around, Warren briefly checked his surroundings and spoke softly.

"I have nothing for you. I'll report in when I've got something."

"Squeak, squeak." The rat accompanied these squeaks with odd motions. Warren followed them with his peripheral vision.

"What is it?"

"Squeak." It darted back and forth between Warren and the doorway.

"You want me to follow you?"

It nodded. Warren sighed.

"Lead the way."

Bubblegum remained in her chambers, pensive over what had just transpired. Two weeks ago, she had set her plan in motion. It was to be a simple psychological operation: obtain the good will of Captain Gary Warren to prevent potential resistance to the Candy Kingdom's interests. With luck, she might even be able to recruit him for its cause. Then something happened.

She'd thought it over several times. She had learned through her interactions with him that Warren was driven by a strong sense of purpose. That was her ticket in. His purpose before had been to serve his nation and its people, but they were dead now. If she could harness that dedication for her people, she would secure her interests, but also be able to offer him some emotional peace in return. She would have to be careful about how she introduced the concept; he would be much more likely to accept it if he came to it on his own, but to do that he needed some coaching. That had been the true purpose of showing him the book.

But as she was watching him read it, something had stirred inside her. She felt vulnerable, but also a warm and pleasant sensation. Her guard slipped, and her words explaining its meaning just flowed out, uncensored and unfiltered. She had lost sight of her objective. Instead of providing thoughtful and delicate influence, there she was pouring a piece of her very soul into him. Realization set in that she had come to care about him on a very personal level. It wasn't really a bad thing, as it didn't necessarily put the Kingdom's interests at risk, but it certainly raised the stakes.

The likelihood of Warren becoming a danger to the Candy Kingdom was becoming increasingly low by her estimation, but the prospect troubled her nonetheless. She was no stranger to the concept that responsibility demands sacrifices, but Bubblegum was beginning to question just how far she was willing to go should the worst come to pass, especially now that she had allowed her personal feelings to become involved. She remembered Shoko. Bubblegum would have forgiven her, but she died in the heat of conflict, before she had a chance. That was the main reason why Bubblegum had kept a good number of her friends at a distance since, even Finn.

For now though, she couldn't get caught up in what may come. She could only continue and hope for the best. A tone began to sound. It was her emergency contact video phone. She was seriously beginning to regret installing those, at least the ones in her lab and bedroom. Walking over to it, she answered the call. A familiar yellow face appeared on the screen. For once, he seemed pleased.

"Hello, Lemongrab," she greeted him unenthusiastically.

"It has begun."

Science had been leading Warren for several minutes now. The route seemed lost and aimless and Warren was beginning to lose his patience. Whatever the rat wanted with him better be good, he thought to himself as they rounded yet another corner in the maze-like innards of an area of the castle he hadn't been to before.

Suddenly, the rat stopped and reared itself onto its hind legs, scanning the area.

"Squeak, squeak!" it chirped at him.

"Right, so you've led me here. Now what?"

The rodent began making several unhealthy sounding noises and began to twist and heave. Warren stood worried but unsure of what, if anything, he was supposed to do. Fortunately, this did not last longer than a few seconds. Reaching into its mouth, it produced an electronic data storage device, and held it up to him.

"Lovely," he thought. Taking the wet, slimy device, he wiped it off on his pant leg before examining it. What he found gave him pause. Its only distinguishing feature was a serial number stamped onto the back of the casing, but it spoke immensely to the value of what he had just been given. The serial number contained a prefix code that Warren found all too familiar.

It was proprietary to the United States Department of Defense.