Chapter D. What Comes of Talking to Girl-Folk - *Characters and their world belong to Mr. Whedon and Co. Mistakes and follies are mine. - “Captain Reynolds,” Inara said, all gracious warmth, “to what do I owe the surprise?” He was taken aback by her calmly formal greeting; her smile, and it looked to him genuine, was still not enough to melt off the civilized polish, the forms and life not his. “Fella ain’t to wave a how-do at an ex-passenger of his? That break some one or other of your Companion-y rules?” “I’d hardly call you breaking rules, those known and unknown, surprising behavior.” Inara kept her smile warm, but her eyes drifted over to the side. Mal fidgeted a moment, not sure of Inara or her gentle smile. Never know where you stand with her, he thought, always waiting... I could ask Zoe to walk into hell with me, Wash would fly us to the gates, and Kaylee would get them open, tyen-uh, even Jayne would watch my back long as he saw a percentage, but Inara... she’d be as like to turn and walk away laughing, as parley with the Devil. Do both just as easy, too. You can’t keep a ship the air, always wondering when people are going to cut and run. And you don’t think about what you can’t have or can’t change... Yet Mal had still turned on his screen, sent out the wave, and there she was smiling like a statue cut by the best hand out of the hardest stone in the whole of the spinning ‘verse. Inara lifted her chin, a bit, as if wondering why she had to keep the conversation rolling. “How fares your crew?” “Oh you know us. Yi fan feng shun.” “And yet you don’t look particularly content.” “‘Only fools smirk in the face of fortune,’ my mama always said. Like to get you turned about real fast.” “That would explain several things, as I recall.” Inara’s bemusement was plain—mhe was quoting his mother? Things had to be very calm or very strained to get him reminiscing about anything... Mal could see the puzzlement now clouding out her smile. “Yeah... maybe. We uh, well, speaking of fortune, we’ve landed a neat little shipping job.” “How nice for you. I suppose I shouldn’t ask for details,” she said, her voice full, sarcasm with familiarity. “They’d be too dull for a well-versed lady like you, anyhows” Mal smiled. “I bet,” Inara said back, dry as firewood, with laughter crackling underneath. Or at least Mal thought he heard it. “But,” he continued, “point is, it’s a good-paying job. And I was thinking, what with Kaylee’s birthday’s bein’ in a week or so...” “In eight days. You want to get her something?” “Well, I know what to get her, easy enough. She’s been after some hydro-electro- something. Wash knows the name. But, it’s not so much a gift, something for fixin’ the ship, and all. Was hopin’ to maybe get something just for herself...” Inara smiled wholly. The kind he did not often get to see. The kind he hoped none of her clients ever saw. But in a moment it disappeared, and she was back, the serene companion. “Jiliam,” she called. Mal watched, somewhat surprised, as a young girl, dressed in what he figured must be training robes, stepped into the camera’s frame. Looking like she had clearly heard and marked the whole exchange. She peered at Mal’s image for more than a moment. “The fashion logs. From Sihnon and... Osiris please,” Inara asked. The girl was still looking at Mal, though now it had to be from the corner of her eye, since she had turned towards Inara, as though listening. Mal’s lips quirked into a smile, more at the look Inara was now giving the girl than the attention he was garnering. He knew that look too well. “Jiliam. If there is a proper response other than swift compliance with the request of a teacher, I’ve yet to hear of it.” The girl snapped to. “Du bu qi, nü shi, yi liu yan. Zhuan yan.” She curtsied deeply, and almost fled the room. Inara watched, looked skyward. “Trouble with the recruits?” “My measure of trouble is very relative, these days.” “Conjure that’s so.” Mal swallowed nervously at her distant words, spoken to him as she still watched where, out of frame, the girl had gone. She must have opened a door or turned a switch, because, for a moment, golden light surrounded Inara. Made her glow, made Mal stare, forgetful of her skills in observation. Of reading people. But she was in her own thoughts, shaking her head, saying, more to herself than Mal: “In a moment—in a moment after she tells half the class their teacher is talking to her space pirate again....” Turning back, though, she was firm and calm, to match him. “So everyone’s all right?” “Still breathing. ‘Course Kaylee’s missin’ you something fierce. ‘Specially so near her birthday.” Inara put her lips together, looked down. “I’m glad to be of help, in this, Mal. Thank you for asking.” Her sincerity broke through him. Made him speak lightly, happily. Without thought. “Well, you’re the best, after all. Knowing what people want.” The words replayed in his head even as he said them. He froze. She froze. Except for her lips, which slowly pressed together. “I mean...” Mal tried. “Bu gan dang,” she said. Stiffly. “I’m sure you have many things to do, Captain, in the midst of a new job. When I have some suitable ideas, I’ll wave you. Zài-jiàn.” And she was gone. “Ta ma duh.” he breathed to himself, before the blank screen. “Ni shi sai gooa” Closed his eyes. Then shook his head and stood up. “It doesn’t matter,” he said aloud. It happened to everyone. No one stayed wholly compelling for long. You snapped out of it; she snapped out of it, eventually both sides moved on. You just had to give it enough time. He ignored the voice saying “Like with Zoe and Wash?” Instead he went up to the bridge to triple-check things the pilot had left perfectly in place. - Inara stared. She wished for a moment she had something to throw. She went with words: “You stupid, heartless, arrogant man.” Although she knew none of them applied to the discussion. Well maybe stupid. Her imprecision aggravated her further. “B?ng xi?o w? ji?” she snapped at the screen. Then turned around quickly to make sure Jiliam was not standing there, witness to her discomposure. Thanking Buddha for her moment of good luck, she left her room at a dignified pace. Finding it no longer suited to her peaceful mood. Jiliam could find her. - - Simon told himself he was reviewing charts and taking notes. Elias had rightly worked himself to the bone, the several patients in his small clinic were critical. Barely critical, perhaps, in a Core hospital, but out here, desperate. Although there was little Simon, or any doctor, could do, except observe and minutely alter drug and fluid levels. So Simon was taking notes. Imagine what they would say, he had thought, when he first sat down, if they could seem me now. Taking notes. On real paper. Except his notes looked more and more like drawings of a ship. Or a pair of oval eyes, with long, thin lashes. And the occasion list “to buy: cake of sorts. choc? van? fruit? fruit: strawber. mango. pinapple. flowers—pink. candles? music? idiot.” Then there were the scratched out lines that read suspiciously like birthday blessings. Poor ones. “Knock, knock, doc, I’m checking the hell out of here. You got things covered?” “Covered,” Simon said, with one gesture that took in the table, the clinic and his own sense of futility. Elias took in the mess on what used to be a neat kitchen table. He picked up one of patient’s files, with several med advisories clipped to the front. “Leaving, though?” Simon asked. “At night?” “You know,” Elias told Simon, laying the file down gently, “I never once took wrote on plain old paper. Four years at my Medacad, and never once. Not for an idea. Not for a dosage level. Not to get the number of a girl. I don’t know—can you even buy the stuff paper in the Core?” Simon shrugged. “These days, I have trouble rememberingPeople still write letters. Back and forth.” “Letters. Ah yes. To have eternal, never-shorted-out access to the cortex, and yet still write letters. The Core takes on a dreamlike quality, doesn’t it? After living out here. Course, I blame the dust. Eroding my brain.” “Your brain?” “Yeah, starts with teeth, you know. Dust in the bread—wears away the teeth. But I think,” and he leaned in close, conspiring, “I think, it sneaks into your ears, and then blows about in your head. Then Puff.” He snapped. “Off come the brain cells. Sandpaper, right on the gray matter.” “There just might be something wrong with your brain.” “Nothing R&R up by the lake won’t cure. I want to be there for the sunrise. Hence me leaving now. Gonna kick back and watch the sun split the sky. Just me, my lake, and Lucia.” “Lucia?” “Well, yeah. I said rest and recreation, didn’t I? You don’t recreate in an algae-filled swamp-water pond of unstable origins and more unstable contents. But, hey, man, look. You should go up. I’ll be back in four days. That’ll give you a couple to spend in my cabin. As thanks for helping me out, since you won’t take any coin. You could bring your assistant,” he said, as River breezed by him and into the room. Simon was flustered, and started to say thank you and no they couldn’t possibly at the same time, when River cut him off. “He’s not my boyfriend.” “What?” “What?” Simon was by far the louder and shriller of two questioners. “He thinks you’re my boyfriend,” River explained to Simon. “Yes, River, I got that, but—” River turned to Elias, as if he were the more promising in a pair of very dull students. Elias had already started backpedaling. “Meant nothing by it, River. Simon. Du bu qi:, I shouldn’t have presumed.” “It’s alright. Everyone does.” Simon stayed silent, as River started talking. She sounded very Core, he thought. The sort of lazy, knowledgeable tone, at home with the ‘verse and bored by it. “‘Course I’m not his assistant, either, seeing how I’m hardly old enough to be a first-year at any decent Medacad; it’s staggering the lies people will swallow whole out here on the edge. Thing is, my daddy’s friends with his, so they set this trip up.” She turned to Simon. “Yes,” he improvised. Badly. “Very good friends.” “Whatever my dad asks, his dad does.” River yawned. Simon caught on. “Not quite how I’d put it, River, but...” he mouthed “politics” to Elias. And added a silent “very spoiled” as he jerked his head her way. River kept pretending to focus on something else. Elias nodded though, bought the story whole. And gracefully bowed himself out of the conversation. “Never too early to start learning about meds, young lady. Or how the ‘verse works, out here. I think you picked a laudable way to spend a year out of school. May you profit from it greatly.” He ended with a familiar mark of blessing over her head, saying “Benedicite,” which had Simon almost laughing. River just narrowed her eyes. “Be good, friends. ?n j? lè yè.” Elias called, as he left, shutting doors. “I don’t like him,” River said, her voice normal. “You never like my friends,” Simon replied, going back to his notes. - - Kaylee walked at a clipped pace to the cargo bay. It was empty now, though the ramp was still down. She pulled open the doors and sat on the ramp, one hand in her pocket, playing with something. Looked over her shoulder. Seeing no one, she pulled a book out. Ran her hand over the cover. Could not believe she was holding it. That she had taken it. Diaries were sacred things. She knew that. She knew it. Would have She whipped her brothers and sisters black and blue, if they had even touched the one she kept, years ago. But here it was. Simon’s was beautiful, of course, the red-brown color of classical things. Oxblood, Inara had told her once. It even smelled rich, the earthy fullness of good leather. Nothing on the front, just a simple book. No lock or keypad on it either. Just like him, she thought, never being careful enough. Too trusting for this part of the ‘verse. And so, how could she even think of opening it? She stopped. Almost put it in her pocket. But turned it around in her hands instead. Turned it faster and faster, until it dropped. Dropped open to ink-filled pages. Kaylee moved to pick it up and close it, when her name jumped out among running lines of characters and words. Without thinking now, she grabbed the book, held it closer, trying to read in the dim light from the spaceport. .... Kaylee asked me to play..., she read. “Kaylee?” She started. Whirled around to see who was talking to her. But the cargo bay still looked empty. “Kaylee?” And she realized it was coming from outside, at the bottom of the ramp. A green flash caught her eye. Ledah was hovering at the edge of the ship, the brown bag over her shoulder, her left hand behind her back. “Ledah?” Kaylee stood, shoved the diary back into her pocket. So relieved she had not been caught by someone on the crew, she could barely think. “Whatcha doing here?” she asked. Trying to think, and see, and figure out Ledah’s odd stance and very presence here after nightfall. Her heartbeat was loud in her head. “Kaylee? Oh, I’m so glad it’s you.” Ledah’s relief flooded through her voice. She started walking up to Kaylee. “I’m here to ask a favor. It’s a small favor, really, please, please tell me you’ll help me.” “What’s going on? What’s wrong?” “Kaylee?” Zoe turned down the last few stairs, overhearing Kaylee’s comment. “Captain said to close up for the night, what’s this?” Ledah was already halfway up the gangway, dimly visible from the background lights. Zoe squinted at the faint green blur, made out enough to see a hand held behind her back. Zoe’s own gun was out and aimed in the sound of the safety release. “Kaylee.” Zoe said, slowly. Full of warning. Kaylee tried to get a grasp on things. The lights from the spaceport flickered crazily; and the soft glow from the landing docks made everything seem fuzzy, slow, and far away. But Ledah was edging closer. “Stop moving,” Zoe said to Ledah. “Hands on your head.” Kaylee started backing away, she knew Zoe wanted her to, edging towards the cover of the bay doors. But she also started talking. Trying to explain. “Zoe, it’s Ledah. Shepherd Book and I met her this afternoon. She likes ships, I showed her around Serenity.” “That right?” Kaylee flinched at her hard tone, though Zoe’s eyes never left Ledah. “I’m not going to say this again, get your hands up,” and Ledah dropped the bag with a heavy clank and some rattling and put her hands on her head. “Now, you’re gonna stand right there and tell me what—” A small voice stopped Zoe cold. “Momma?” something little said, circling around Ledah’s skirts. Kaylee made puffing sounds, which Zoe took as intense surprise. “My son, Daniel,” Ledah offered, dryly. “He’s also unarmed.” She did not move her hands, even though he was reaching up for her. Zoe lowered her shotgun an inch. “Respectfully,” Ledah continued, hands still on her hair, “I ask permission to board Serenity. To share a few words with your captain. Words, I am sure, mean profit for your crew, and ones I believe mean life for my son and I.” The words stretched out between the three women. “Kaylee,” Zoe said, slowly, deliberately. “Call the Captain.” She spoke still watching Ledah, rifle still at the ready. Kaylee backed up fast, almost tripped on the way to the comm. link. “Cap’n?” she called, hitting the button for the bridge, knowing if Zoe was here he was likely there. “Kaylee?” he immediately replied. Her voice was quivering enough for the comm. system to catch it. “Zoe says to come down to the ramp.” “Now,” Zoe added, without looking. “Now,” Kaylee repeated, but Mal was already on the stairs, keeping his gun holstered only so he could use both hands to vault down them, leaning on the railings. He hit the last set and pulled out his gun, noting Kaylee was fairly shielded by the blast doors’ edge, and Zoe was standing alone, in the middle of the wide bay. He followed her rifle’s aim to see what she had covered, training his own pistol on the shape, and started scanning the distant dark, at the same time asking her what was wrong. Then he realized what he was aiming at. Or rather, who. “Zoe,” he said, his rising pique bleeding into his voice, as he stretched out her name. “What’s going on?” “That’s Ledah, Cap’n.” Kaylee piped from the back. “She wants to talk to you.” “Ledah? And you know her because?” “I let her on the ship, this aft, Cap’n. She was real curious about—” “You what?” he interrupted. “Please. Captain Reynolds,” Ledah started. “I presumed on Kaylee’s openness. I meant no harm by it; I merely wanted to see the ship. As she said. She did nothing wrong.” “That’ll be between me and Kaylee, Miss,” he answered without warmth. “Of course,” she bowed her head. “I meant, I merely walked the ship. To ascertain that there were places passengers could ride.” “If this is about joining us, Miss Ledah, you said? You’re wasting your breath. We ain’t taking passengers.” “Please,” she said again. “Inside my bag.” She touched it lightly with a shoe. Mal caught Zoe’s eye. She looked at him for a moment, shrugged. Mal considered Ledah and the boy at her feet. “Momma?” he said again. “Danny, I need you to be very quiet, right now. Ok xiao gui? Very quiet and very brave. While I talk to these sky-sailors.” Mal breathed out quickly. His gun went up, and he nodded to Zoe. She walked carefully down the ramp, to Ledah. Ledah stepped back and to the side, slowly; the boy followed her. With her foot, Zoe kicked the bag open. Felt inside with her rifle, then reached in with a hand. Pulled out two bottles by their long necks. “There’s cash inside here, too,” she said to Mal, looking at the girl before her, standing resolute, despite arms starting to shake, having been held up so long, and a toddling boy at her feet, a round face gray in the half-light. “Kaylee said you wouldn’t take passengers for whiskey or gold. But I thought shimmer wine and cash might buy me some time. At least enough to tell my story.” Mal lowered his gun. “How ‘bout you spin it out for free, right here,” he offered. Ledah looked over her shoulder. “I’d like to, Captain. That’s almost all the money I have to my name. But I need to be inside. Or at least out of sight.” Mal shook his head. “Kaylee, one day we’re gonna have a chat about you talking to strangers.” “Yes, Cap’n,” she said, a smile breaking over her, as Mal waved Ledah on board. She picked up Daniel and walked quickly, Zoe following with the bag. Mal kept an eye at the spaceport, until the ramp raised above eye level. “Call everyone to the galley,” Mal told Kaylee, as she stood by the controls. He followed Zoe, his gun at his side, watching Daniel. Who was staring over his mother’s shoulder, who coughed and looked around, as if his eyes could not see enough. - - Translations - Yi fan feng shun: very smoothly, plain sailing (idiom) tyen-uh: Oh God. Du bu qi: Pardon me nü shi: mistress yi liu yan: in the blink of an eye Zhuan yan: In an instant bu gan dang: You flatter me. Zài-jiàn: Good-bye. Ta ma duh: powerful cussin’ Ni shi sai gooa: You’re a fool. b?ng xi?o w? ji?: melt like ice and break like tiles, dissolve, disintegrate. ?n j? lè yè: live and work in peace and contentment xiao gui: an endearing of address to a child; little demon (idiom) - - Tune in Sunday for Chapter E. The Plot Thickens. - Ha. Get it? Ledah makes her pitch. Simon makes a distinction. River tells Simon what’s on someone’s mind, but not hers. And other stuff, too. Be kind, review. Shiny.