CHAPTER 10 The next morning, the halls of Serenity came calmly to life. River, barefoot today, was curled up in the cockpit, using the known speed and trajectory of Serenity to estimate that of a comet heading out of the solar system. Book was engaged in his morning scripture meditation, taking extra time today to pray for Kaylee. Jayne had left Elle’s bunk early so as to change clothes before breakfast. Mal caught him in the corridor. Having waited all night to talk to Jayne without Elle present, Mal would not lose his opportunity. Despite Inara’s suspicion that Elle didn’t really know Jayne, Jayne’s actions said that he knew Elle and Mal wanted to know from where. “Jayne!” he called as Jayne kicked open the door to his bunk. Jayne looked relaxed, as if every morning he had a social chat with Mal. The look of innocence only further agitated Mal. “Yeah, Mal?” “Tell me about Elle. How do you know her?” “I don’t,” Jayne said quickly. “Saw her face on the cortex is all. She’s worth 300 credits if we turn her in.” Jayne grinned at the mention of money. Despite this sounding exactly like something Jayne would do, Mal didn’t believe him. Jayne would not leave his favorite gun for 300 credits. “What did I tell you about lying to my face?” Mal threatened. “Throw me out the airlock if you want. It’s all the truth you get.” “Caddock tried to kill her,” Mal began, searching for an argument. He couldn’t yet find one between the shrouded facts and fog of lies. “Caddock tried to kill you, too. I need to know what trouble I’m up against here. Tell me who she is.” The two entered a long face-off. Mal hated it because Jayne seemed to have the upper hand. The lie was practiced and consistent with Jayne’s character and Mal couldn’t deny that it made more sense than Jayne wanting to rescue some damsel in distress. “She’s just some girl, Mal,” Jayne said in cooly. “Check the cortex. Elle. 300 credits. There she was, layin’ there dyin’ on a world. That’s the truth that’ll keep us alive. You start suspecting more ‘n that, you get both me and her killed. Then you get yourself killed just for conjuring it.” Mal sensed that Jayne wanted him to guess the truth, safe or not. But then, Jayne was not always as smart as Mal gave him credit for. He had to ask. “So there is a different version of the truth?” “Equally as valid as the one I told,” Jayne confirmed. “So it’s just another lie?” This was getting confusing and infuriating. “But no one kills you for knowing this one,” Jayne pointed out. “I tell you another one, Caddock might kill you. But he already don’t like you, so that’s no surprise. Elle might kill you.” “Why would she kill me over something you said?” Mal asked, defensively. “I’m the one this truth is meant to protect.” Leaving those smug words hanging in the air, Jayne climbed into his bunk. Though Jayne seemed to be acting more like his normal self, yesterday’s lapse had opened a whole can of worms that Mal knew he’d have to deal with eventually. Mal hated worms, lies, and people who tried to kill him. He wanted the truth and some remote part of him wished he had a volcano so as to get it.

*~*

When Mal entered the dining room, Elle was up and cooking breakfast. She wore the same blue and gold robe as the day before. Her hair fell in soft brown curls around her face. Although she wore no make-up, Mal could tell she had the soft hands of the well-moneyed. The scent of cinnamon and strawberries filled the room. Mal watched, amazed, at the bit of magic she seemed to be performing about the last remaining burner of the stove, creating some kind of sauce for their bread. He wondered where she’d gotten the strawberries, knowing he’d brought none from the Neptune. “Are you gonna ask me what’s on your head or just stare at me?” Elle asked, breaking the silence. Mal was surprised at how smooth her voice seemed today compared to yesterday. The bandage was off her neck and a long scar was visible. Jayne denying that he knew her had thrown him for a loop. And given the invitation to ask, he would not start with strawberries. “How do you know Jayne?” “I don’t,” she said simply, never taking her eyes from the pot. The answer surprised him and ran contrary to the theory he and Inara had come up with. If she didn’t know Jayne, she should still be playing along like she did to stay safe. Unless she felt safe enough for truth… which also didn’t make sense. But then Jayne had hinted that this denial was some kind of safety precaution. Still, that was twice he’d been lied to this morning and Mal didn’t like it. “The look on your face when you saw Jayne says different.” “I was on Canton a few weeks back,” she answered. “Saw his statue. I don’t know him.” She seemed to have an answer for everything. Mal felt his blood begin to boil. “He seems to know you. He treats you different than other women. Hell, he left Vera behind so he could carry you. He knows you.” “That’s his mistake. I’m not complaining. It saved my life.” Elle did not seem to notice the frustration she was causing. Her attention was almost entirely on the food. When she removed the strawberry sauce from the heat, she looked up and met his burning eyes. “You don’t believe me do you?” she asked. “Not as such.” “I was much better at lying before my throat was slit. Can’t seem to focus now.” Was this a joke to her? “Jayne says you’re just a stray. He saw you and wanted to cash in.” “Is that so hard to believe?” “Are either of you going to tell me the truth?” “That is the truth!” Elle stated firmly. She began opening and draining a can of fruit, resuming her relaxed manner. “Besides, I don’t trust you.” “Why not?” Mal asked in mock defensiveness. Elle put down the fruit can, preparing to tick points off on her finger. “First, some guy with a statue in mudder-ville kidnaps me. Second, he brings me to a ship harboring Alliance fugitives – a man wanted for KIDNAPPING no less—and this fugi tries to tell me I’m safe. Third, you go trying to kill me by deliberately breaking atmo while being pursued by the Newhall authorities… Not inspiring trust.” “Hey, that last one was not a deliberate attempt to kill just you. That wouldn’t gotten us all dead.” “Not inspiring confidence either,” Elle scoffed. “Then you tell me you won’t take me anywhere until we track down this Caddock, who might I remind you, is responsible for the whole throat-slitting thing!” “You asked to go to Stolte! I’d be shot out of the sky before I reached orbit!” Mal couldn’t believe he was being reprimanded on his own boat! But with each passing moment, Mal became more convinced that she and Jayne shared a very dangerous history that would eventually come to haunt him. “Point is, I’d take it as a kindness if, when you get caught, you tell folks I’m just a stray with no attachment to your crew.” The scolding over, she shrugged her shoulder and resumed draining the fruit. Mal was surprised when she quietly continued. “It’s not guaranteed to keep you alive, but it’s … it’s pretty safe.” “Now who’s not inspiring confidence,” Mal retorted.

*~*

Mal entered Inara’s shuttle without knocking. The red tapestries draped around the room made it feel like he was leaving the ship entirely and entering a posh world. Inara had given up scolding him for now. Today she wore a teal top and a gold and white skirt. Mal was pretty sure he’d never seen Inara wear the same clothes twice. Given the size of the shuttle, he had to wonder if they were vacuum sealed somewhere or if she just burned them after use. Inara sat on the bed, one leg folded under, mending the pink ruffles of Kaylee’s dress. Mal could see damp spots where Inara had carefully removed the grease and grass stains. Mal took a seat on the red couch in Inara’s lounge area and watched her slow, meticulous work. He had never seen Inara engage in such a “commoners” task; for some reason it fascinated him. He thought of Serenity with her gone. Part of him knew it was safer for her and better for her. Part of him would give up the to sky chase her to the ends of the ‘verse. If ever she called, he would answer. Then they would exchange hurtful words and decide they were better off apart… but still, he would answer. He knew that the only reason they weren’t fighting now was because neither had spoken. “I think Elle knows Jayne,” Mal said finally, breaking the silence. After all, it had been Inara that had suggested the contrary. “Oh, I’m sure they’re quite close now,” Inara said coldly. She had seen Jayne sneaking out of Elle’s room earlier that morning. She could tell by Jayne’s walk that the two hadn’t had sex, but she knew from experience that Elle could still exert extreme control over Jayne. From Jayne’s behavior, it was clear that Elle was dear to him. All Elle had to do was play off of that weakness. “They both deny knowing each other now,” Mal continued, despite Inara’s cryptic response. Inara stopped mending and looked at Mal. “That doesn’t mean they know each other.” She was about to explain when the shuttle console chirped at her. Inara set the dress aside, and pulled back a heavy curtain revealing the cockpit of the shuttle. Someone had sent her a wave. Mal came up behind her, but she shooed him back so she could listen privately. “Inara, delighted to hear from you,” a clean looking black man said. “I was a bit surprised by your request, but I have information on Andre Stolte. Must say he doesn’t seem your type. In fact, he died three months ago. I believe you met his wife last time you were here.” Inara’s mind raced as the Stolte couple flashed on the screen, their pictures taken at various social events on the core planets. “I don’t believe it,” Inara murmured. “Don’t believe what?” Mal asked, coming to look over her shoulder again. This time, Inara didn’t shoo him away. “Hey, ain’t that Elle?” “Yes, but-“ Inara stopped, trying to process. “That’s Nia Stolte. Elle is Nia Stolte. THE Nia Stolte!” “Who’s Nia Stolte?” Mal asked, unimpressed. “She’s the wife of a philanthropist, or was—now she’s widowed. They developed that moon, Stolte, for full range crops and now they ship food to the rim planets!” “This Nia, where’d she come from?” “I don’t know,” Inara said, searching her memory of core planet society. “She just came out of the Black three years ago and married Andre. Most of the ladies I spoke to called her a gold-digger.” “Was she?” “She’s actually done a lot to expand the charity programs of Stolte. I suppose when her husband died, she inherited the moon.” Mal turned this new information over in his mind. Something was beginning to make sense, but it sure made all the other things fall into terrible confusion. “Does it say how her husband died?” Mal asked. Inara checked the rest of the message, then searched the cortex for obituaries. “It just says natural causes.” “So her husband dies of natural causes and she winds up on Newhall with a slit throat?” “You think they were murdered?” Inara asked, surprised, but more confused. “A smuggler always has enemies,” Mal answered. “Elle knew about the hatch. If nothing else, we know she’s a smuggler.” “Nia Stolte is a respected philanthropist. You’re suggesting that a petty smuggler—Elle—became Nia Stolte.” “You may be right about her not being Jayne’s Elle,” Mal said gravely. “Even so, a powerful woman like Stolte knowing about a smugglers hatch and surrounded by death… we may be dealing with something more dangerous than a pair of liars on this boat.”

*~*

The Neptune’s doctor had apparently lost interest in treating patients. The Infirmary was large, having three beds, spacious countertops, and advanced diagnostic equipment. Though bright fluorescent lights shone from an office area, the rest of the room was dim when Kaylee awoke. Saskia had mercifully doped her so she could sleep through the pain. As the horrors of the night before came back, Kaylee’s head began to throb. She dared no move. Her hands felt gooey underneath several layers of gauze. Saskia came over and held a cool compress against her face. Kaylee wished she could pass out again. In the reflection of the office window, she could see her beaten and purple face. She could feel the bruises all over her body and shuddered at the memory of her torn jumpsuit. The Neptune engines hiccupped and Kaylee smiled. Saskia misread it as a wince and cooed soothingly. “Saskia!” Caddock yelled, storming into the Infirmary. Kaylee began to understand Saskia’s blasé response to Caddock’s blustering about. “Why is my mechanic not in the engine room?” Kaylee yelped as Saskia unwrapped the gauze on her hands. Gently, Saskia cleansed the burns, applied an antibiotic, and rewrapped the wound. While she did this, Saskia did not speak to Caddock. Rather she let the wounds speak for her. “Who did this?” Caddock seethed. “Kersetz,” Saskia answered, moving from the burns to other wounds on Kaylee’s body. “Drunken sha gua,” Caddock swore. “I’ll kill him.” “You can’t, sir,” Saskia said matter-of-factly. “We need him on Three Hills.” “What for?” Caddock raved, waving his gun in the air. “Sir, we’ve been black marked. That means we’re going to have a hard time finding any crew that we don’t kidnap. It means we can’t afford to lose the crew we got.” Caddock paced like an angry child, trying to get his way. Finally, he settled next to Kaylee, pressing the barrel of the gun against her temple. Kaylee winced. “Is she gonna be able to fix my ship?” Caddock asked, cocking the trigger. Kaylee nodded furiously. Saskia put her hand on the barrel and lowered Caddock’s gun. “Of course, she will, sir,” Saskia said evenly. “Now go run your little ship and try not to kill anybody today.”

*~*

*************************************** LINK TO CHAPTER 11