Chapter Three

Spike sat at the bar, nonchalantly smoking his newly purchased cigarette and watching the fool sitting next to him nurse a glass of whisky. He was cradling his left arm. Spike didn't know if the guy realized he was doing this or not. The guy stared glumly into the drink, and Spike almost felt sorry for the poor sap. As soon as Spike walked into the bar, he recognized the brown haired man instantly as the one who had run into him the day of the crash. From the way the guy looked, he must not have taken care of himself properly since that day. Suspicious, Spike thought for a second before his thoughts were interrupted.

The familiar western tune that always began another episode of Big Shot started to play from the dinky TV in the corner. Spike looked up, hoping he would get an excuse to leave this godforsaken planet once and for all. He was thinking Mars or somewhere he could be warm. He wouldn't have been so intent on catching the bounty supposedly on Neptune if the reward wasn't so big. A cool 50 mil was waiting for him somewhere amongst the snow and ice.

"We have one whopper of a bounty for you cowboys today," Paunch said, in his falsely excited voice.

"All you cowgirls out there better make sure not to fall for his good looks," Judy added in her soprano tone. "This varmint is dangerous." Paunch ignored her, though, as he usually did unless the script called for him to actually acknowledge her presence.

"He's got a heck of a bounty on his head: 700 million woolongs to be exact." Spike almost swallowed his cigarette. 7-700 million woolongs?? That was more money that he had ever seen in his life. Now all eyes in the bar were intently watching the screen. All except the guy next to Spike, who was still brooding over his drink.

"Here he is; Drake James. Age 21. Charged with attempted robbery, theft, and eight counts of murder, including six ISSP officers." A picture flashed on the screen and Spike's eyes grew wide in shock and amusement. His gaze darted briefly to his bar top companion. The guy's head snapped up and he was staring in disbelief at the picture. His mouth fell open for a second before he gathered himself, paid the bartender and left. Spike watched his newest bounty head walk out the door. A small sardonic smile played across his face. He found a worthwhile reason to stay on the snowball after all. 700 million woolongs worth.

I couldn't help but be nervous. I tried my hardest not to show it, however. Showing it would get me caught faster, that much I knew. It was a kill or be killed world out there. Except that, I had already killed, there was nothing left for me to do but probably kill some more. I definitely didn't like that idea. Well, I was going to murder that son of a bitch that left me for the ISSP back on the docking port as soon as I found him. I'll teach him to run and leave me hanging.

Bounty hunters were anywhere and could be anyone. The really good ones, I heard, disguised themselves to the very end, right before they slapped some cuffs on you and marched you up to the nearest ISSP station for their reward. It seemed to me that my bounty could not have been the biggest in history, but it was up there, and everyone wanted a piece of it. 700 million was a shit load of money and money had a tendency to speak louder than words and actions combined. I was way out numbered, and I didn't know how to even the odds. I wasn't used to this. I was as good as caught. The only thing I could do was give whoever attempted to catch me a damn good chase.

Spike wandered down the streets of Aquatown, trying not to berate himself for letting the largest bounty he'd ever witness sit next to him, then walk away unscathed. He was right there and I let him go! Damn, money is powerful. Had Spike realized what was going on instead of drooling over the woolongs he would have been nice and warm at that moment, not freezing his ass off. I was being cocky, that's what it was. Damn.

"Where the hell did this amateur go? He couldn't have gone far with a busted arm and no ship," Spike muttered angrily to himself. If only he had a lead. Someone who knew the guy, knew how he acted or who he would go to for help. Something. Ed hadn't found anything on the guy, which meant he was a first time offender. Drake James was either an incredibly smart man, or a damn lucky son of a bitch. Neither instance worked in Spike's favor.

"Spike!" Jet's voice interrupted Spike's angry thoughts. "Spike, Ed's got something." Spike pulled out the communication device with semi-frozen fingers. He grumbled a few profanities to himself before answering.

"What? It better be good."

"That depends. What do you think of Pluto?"

"What?! It's even colder than here!"

"According to Ed, James and his accomplice were last seen on Pluto before the docking port incident. Someone there may know information that could help you find him."

"Jet, the guy is on Neptune and he's not going anywhere. It's only a matter of searching."

"Would you rather get a hint as to where on Neptune he may be or search the entire planet until you get frost bite?" Spike heaved a great sigh before replying.

"One of us should at least keep looking while I'm gone."

"I'll have Faye do it."

"Wonderful. We're going to be eating noodles for the rest of our lives."

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