THE DINNER

An uneasy silence hangs over the Tam house.

Gabriel Tam reads the evening edition of the newspaper while his wife Regan directs the house servants in preparing her husband's favorite meals. The supper will be a lonely one, however; there are no guests to share tonight's evening meal, and both Gabriel and Regan are quietly, calmly dreading the silence that will stretch between their awkward and polite conversations.

For River and Simon are not there to pick up the slack, to boost the conversations when they falter, to enliven the family table with their laughter, stories, and jokes.

Gabriel tells himself, as he has done so many times, that he did what he could for the two of them, and that it was Simon's own pig-headed blindness that prevented the plan from being carried out. River would have to suffer, but only for a little while, he had been assured. Then, she would go farther in her studies-- and her usefulness to the government-- than any Tam before her...

Or so her father had been promised.

He sighs and continues to read the paper.

His wife flits into the den and asks a brief, meaningless question as to how he would like his food to be prepared, and Gabriel gives her a stock answer that he doesn't have to put much thought into. He really doesn't care about his food that much. He doesn't look forward to eating meals with his wife at all.

All too soon, the meal is ready, and Regan and Gabriel smile at one another as they head for the dining room.

The food sits on the dining table, and as always Gabriel is struck by how out of place the large mahogany dining table looks with only two chairs pulled up to it. That table could easily seat ten people, but for this evening, only two chairs will be necessary. He looks over at his wife and he sees the look of apology in her eyes and he knows that she spent hours on the telephonix today, trying to invite some guests over to the house for supper.

Nobody wanted to come, apparently. The neighbors are getting tired of being invited to the Tams' house for supper. Once it would have been an honor, but the air of disquieting falsehood that hangs over the household chokes any outside enthusiasm. There's nothing to be found inside the Tam house but stilted conversation and unanswered questions. After all, the neighbors have never really understood what happened to the Tams' children. Gabriel has considered selling the dining table, for it holds too many memories for close comfort, but they do need it for large dinners, and so the table stays where it is.

They sit and eat, and never really speak to each other. Gabriel tries to keep his mind focused on the food; on it's expensive spices and exquisite taste. His own thoughts are too uncomfortable to focus on, and he welcomes any distraction from them.

Food, however, is an old distraction, and it's comforts are wearing thin.

There is a distant ding from the doorbell. A servant comes and informs the Tams that there are visitors at the front door.

Regan's face lights up with hope, but her husband struggles to keep his composure. Friends rarely come knocking at mealtimes.

He accompanies the servant to the front door.

Two men stand there in the doorway. Their faces are calm and collected; their suits are clean and neatly pressed.

Their hands are resting in their pockets.

"What can I do for you?" Gabriel asks. He has seen these men before.

One of the men takes out his hand and extends it in a handshake. A smile crosses his face; it looks odd and unpracticed, as though the man has not smiled in decades and has long since forgotten how to do so.

Gabriel takes his hand and shakes it. He feels warm thin plastic covering the man's skin. He looks down.

Blue gloves. He'd been expecting that.

"A warrant has come up on the Cortex for your son's arrest," the man says. He does not let go of Gabriel's hand. "A new warrant, Mr. Tam." He cocks his head. "Have you had any contact with the fugitives?"

Gabriel freezes. Fugitives. His children are fugitives.

And he had had such hopes for their futures after all...

"May we come in?" the other man asks. It is not really a question.

"Of... of course," Gabriel replies. It's dangerous to let them in, but more dangerous to keep them out. He steps aside and lets them sweep into the room.

The blue-gloved men follow him into the den. "Please, have a seat," Gabriel says, gesturing to a pair of chairs. The men accept the offer, and sit, keeping their eyes on their host all the while.

"Mr. Tam, have you had any contact with the fugitives?" one of them asks. Gabriel gets the feeling that lack of an answer will not be tolerated this time.

"No, not at all. I told Simon that I wouldn't help him when he first started snooping about."

"And yet you did not have him arrested when he did start 'snooping about'. You should have stopped him." The man leans forward. "You had the power to do that."

"I-- he's my son."

"And your son is hindering our project." The man's voice becomes soft, almost wondering, as he adds, "Your daughter was the best student we had. And our work on her was almost complete. But your son's 'care' for her could upset everything we have worked for. She could be ruined. You don't want that to happen, do you, Mr. Tam?"

"No. It's just that--"

"Just what, Mr. Tam?"

"Simon cares for her so much. He's under the impression that your work was hurting her, that she was being injured."

"Your son is very foolish." The men stand up in unison. One of them pulls a thin wand-like instrument from his pocket and clicks a button on it. Two thin plastic rods slide out from its sides. "You were very foolish for allowing your son to subvert the Project."

Gabriel hears a piercing, almost inaudible whining noise and wonders if it is only his ears ringing. Then, he feels something warm beginning to drip from his nose.

He reaches up and touches his face, directly below his nose. Blood.

He gives a choked cry and looks almost pleadingly at the men with the blue gloves. The man with the wand snaps it off suddenly, just as the pain starts to build in his brain. Tam sighs in relief, and sags into a chair.

"Remember our agreement, Mr. Tam." The men drift away and in the distant Gabriel can hear the door shut behind them.

Gabriel touches his nose and wipes the blood onto his sleeve.

Then he walks back to the dining table, where his wife is waiting.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Far, far away, out in the black, a little ship drifts along on its course. Outside the ship, there is only the cold nothingness that stretches between the stars.

Inside the ship, there is light, warmth, laughter, and love.

The crew of Serenity sits at the dining table. There is hardly enough room for all of them, but there they sit, a motley group of folk from all corners of space.

Simon and River sit among them. River is quiet, but from time to time she smiles at some comment that catches her fancy.

Suddenly her eyes widen and she turns to her brother. Her eyes are distant and filled with a cool sadness. "He's gone."

Simon stares at her. "Who?"

"Gabriel. Two by two, hands of blue. They cracked his mind. He never woke up."

Simon's blue eyes widen slightly as he realizes who she is speaking of. "Father..."

"The settings are different, but the effect is always the same. The humming snaps the mind." She hums softly.

Simon realizes that all the other crew members are looking at them. He turns to them. "Our father is dead. Murdered."

River continues to hum tunelessly.

THE END.