CHAPTER 6 Mal recognized the church from three blocks out. He wondered if it really did stand out from the other buildings or if it only did to him. It was as if the entire building was surrounded by a repulsive aura. He swallowed the lump of his dead faith and considered the building again. It was no newer or older than the other buildings on the block. None of the passers by stopped to consider its architecture. It was just another building to them. As he and Simon approached, he noticed the gate tip open and Shepherd Book peaked out. Simon rushed into the gate, bursting with questions, but Book maintained his silence. Mal kept his gait steady until he was inside, and even after Book locked the gate behind them, he did not feel safe. Three crew unaccounted for, hot cargo … at least Inara was safe. Kaylee came running up as they went inside. “Are you okay?” “How could you lose River?!” Simon exploded, directing his fury at Kaylee. “I looked for her,” Kaylee stuttered. “She must’ve run off.” “Run off?! She’s my sister! She’s your friend! You’re supposed to watch out for her!” Kaylee’s eyes were wide as saucers. “I’m sorry.” “Sorry?! This world is crawling with feds!” “Jayne and Wash are probably with her.” “How is that better? Jayne—” “Doc, no need for a fit,” Mal interrupted, rescuing Kaylee with a quick hug. “They lost my sister!” “And we’ll do everything we can to find her again,” Mal assured calmly. “No need for yelling.” “The feds—” “We got bigger problems than the feds right now,” Zoë cut in. “Three men out, boat’s blocked off—” “And all of us are in mortal danger from a man named Prio who takes offense to us transporting this cargo,” Mal finished. Zoë had filled him in as to the nature of the cargo and Prio’s threat had finally made sense. Between them, they only had three guns, so their next move would have to be a very careful one. “Calm down, son,” Book said. Everyone stopped in surprise because it was the first thing he’d said all day. His day of silence was finally over. “Shepherd’s right,” Mal agreed. “Your sister is crazy enough for the both of you.” “Wash arranged a rendezvous at sunset,” Zoë told him. “It’s almost sunset now. Take the mule and see if you can find them.” “If he found them, they’re safe,” Zoë assured Simon, taking her leave. “If not,” Simon fumed. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Mal answered distantly. “I’m going to the roof to keep watch till Zoë gets back. Doc, your job is to keep our cargo living. Dong ma? Shepherd—” “I’ll talk to the monks about preparing some food.” “Okay,” Mal nodded. “Kaylee, you start working on a way to increase mobility with that trailer. We may have to leave in a hurry and those crates plus eight crew just won’t fit in the mule.” Kaylee didn’t move. She just stared after Simon as he stalked off to the boxes. “Kaylee,” Mal repeated. “He’s so mad at me,” she moaned. “Kaylee, focus. You can smooth out your differences with the doctor later. Right now, there’s work to be done.”

*~*

River wasn’t trying to move anymore, but Jayne still held her shoulder uncertainly. Unlike the three scouts Jayne had taken out earlier, the men swarming about the spaceport were far from bored. He could see ten men guarding the perimeter entrance, which meant no telling how many were on the landing deck. “They’ve come to put out the fire,” River murmured. “Snuff us is right,” Jayne agreed. Jayne wondered if Mal and Simon had gotten back before this development; if Kaylee had locked up the ship without him inside; if anyone had noticed him missing. What if the whole crew had been captured? He quickly dismissed that thought. If the crew were captured, there wouldn’t be people laying wait at the spaceport entrance. Seemingly oblivious to the problem, River found them a table at an outdoor bistro half way down the street. “Brilliant idea,” Jayne grumbled, trying to stash and conceal his weapons beneath the table cloth. Sitting in a crowded city with a wanted fugitive and a few illegal firearms… yet a meal was appealing. River was keeping her head low in the menu. The sun had set and the area was dark enough. The first moon was already high in the sky and the second was rising. Jayne cracked open the menu and started reading slowly. “The whole gorram thing is in Greek!” he exclaimed, frustrated. “French,” River corrected him. Jayne closed the menu in frustration. “What would you like?” River asked calmly. “How the hell can I tell? Foreign words, no pictures.” River rolled her eyes. “Chicken or fish?” Jayne mulled a moment, testing the tastes in his head. Fish was too light. “I could eat a whole chicken right now.” A few minutes later, a waiter came. River ordered in French and then the two sat in silence. Jayne carefully watched the space port. The crowd of unfriendlies thinned slowly and Jayne guessed that in another hour or so, he’d be able to sneak past them. To what purpose, he didn’t know. The waiter returned and set a dainty plate in front of River with food so gourmeted, Jayne couldn’t even tell what it was. A minute later, the waiter set a plate in front of Jayne. On it was a two pound chicken, seasoned and smoked. Jayne’s eyes and mouth watered in delight. He delved voraciously into the chicken, ripping it apart messily with his hands. “What is this?” he asked. “Rosemary Rotisserie Chicken,” River answered. “It’s meant to serve three.” Jayne looked at her crossly, intentionally chewing with his mouth open just to provoke a disgusted look from her. “I’m three of you,” he retorted. Jayne polished off the chicken and belched loudly. By that time, River had finished a bowl of ice cream and was staring out into the street. “Time to go,” she said, dropping a bill onto the table and standing up. “Wha—” Jayne muttered, surprised. He quickly gathered his guns and stood. His eyes rested momentarily on the money River had left on the table, but before he could take it, River grabbed his wrists. “Time to go,” she repeated, pulling him toward the street. Jayne adjusted the weight of the guns on his shoulders, lumbering along as he was tired from eating. Then he saw what River saw. “Zoë!” he called, dashing toward the hover mule. She was circling the block slowly, scanning the streets. Alarmed at hearing her name, she motioned him to be quiet. He and River hurried to her and as soon as they were on, Zoë sped away. “Have you seen Wash?” she asked.

*~*

Wash shrugged out of his shirt and held it against his head. He should have gone for a sock. He wouldn’t have wrenched his shoulder trying to remove a sock. Even after the bleeding stopped, he left it there because it was nice to finally have a pillow. The ship was quieting down as Prio’s men had apparently given up on the search. Cautiously, he wriggled out of his hiding spot and listened. The ship was silent. He eased out a little more and stretched his sore muscles. Still not a sound. As he tried to walk, his feet nearly gave out on him, cramping and seizing up. Patiently, he rolled his ankles, stretched his calves, and tried again. Coming down the long corridor away from the engine room, panels had been ripped mercilessly from the walls as the intruders had searched for hiding spaces. Concerned, he checked the engine. Someone had mucked up the wiring, rigging it to fail. Wash fixed it as best he could, but unwilling to fire up the engine and give away his presence, he couldn’t test his handiwork. Hopefully, it would work well enough to get them started. Making his way forward, he stopped in the kitchen and downed half a protein bar, equivalent to three meals. His stomach churned darkly at the addition of food, but he knew he needed the energy. Wash checked the cockpit next, making sure the controls were still connected as they should be. Prio clearly expected the crew to return to Serenity and try to escape. Wash expected it too, but still hoped they wouldn’t. He searched briefly for the walkie talkie, then remembered that Zoë had taken it with her. If he could remember the channel, he’d send them a wave. First he wanted to clean the dried blood from his hair. As Wash trudged to his bunk, complacency got the best of him. Suddenly, he was knocked over by a gun butt right between the shoulder blades. He rolled quickly to face his attacker—a man so dark he could have easily been a shadow. Wash pulled the Mateba from his belt and shot the man in the gut. Although the man staggered backwards, there was no blood. Gorram body armor! Wash needed some of that. As the adrenaline surged through his body, Wash jumped to his feet. He had no idea where he would run, but away was the safest bet now. Unfortunately, the gunshot had drawn the attention of others and most of the easy hiding spots had been exposed by the previous search of the ship. Wash dashed for the cockpit, locked himself in, and fired up Serenity. Time to test those engines! The ship wrenched upwards, hovering and tilting skyward. Land lock! Wash used the position, jerking the ship side to side, hoping to shake out a few of the bad guys. The rudder rocked and keeled and Wash had to fight to keep her from falling out of the air. The engine seemed okay, but something between the engine and the yoke wasn’t connecting. Wash steadied the ship and crawled under the console, hoping the problem would become clear. If he set down again, more of Prio’s men would board. But he didn’t have the control to get the ship out of there without crashing it. He had to pull free of the land lock. Not much time. The latch on the cockpit could only withstand so much force and the shadow man was already pounding it. Forcing a quick fix, Wash crossed the grav feed into the main drive, dumping enough energy into the engine to fly out of a black hole. Don’t need gravity in atmo anyway! If he didn’t crush himself with the g-force, he could at least break out of the land lock and hopefully the Alliance wouldn’t shoot him out of the sky. Yanking the yoke to the left, the ship turned strongly. Navigation! Wash didn’t have much time to celebrate. He had no sooner crawled out from under the console than the shadow man broke through the door and entered the bridge, gun at ready. “I’m sorry for the bumpy ride,” Wash said quickly. “Terrifying space monkeys invaded the ship and—” Before he could finish, the shadow man slapped him with the broad side of his gun and the world went black.

*~*

Simon noticed Zoë was still limping as she entered the back room where the crew was hiding. He felt helpless without his med kit, but even more disheartened because she was apparently alone. Her eyes carried sadness, exhaustion, and defeat. But then, she also carried a new gun. A moment later, River and Jayne followed her in. “River!” Simon shouted, running toward her and embracing her. He checked her over, making sure she was not hurt. She was already talking excitedly. “The eye cannot see the eye,” she exclaimed. “River, what happened?” “I saw the flames around the bodies. It was at home. I thought they were burning. But it was the wrong home!” “Did we get paid?” Jayne asked Simon, talking over River. Simon shot him an angry look. “Where did you take her?” he demanded. “Hey, she ran off,” Jayne said, throwing up his hands. “Lucky she didn’t get herself caught.” “You ran off?!” Simon exclaimed, chastising River. River started repeating the same babble she’d been saying all afternoon and Jayne, having heard enough of it, backed off and surveyed the room. Large, sparse, probably a classroom of sorts. Narrow windows leading into the courtyard. Jayne sighed as Mal approached. River was a situation Jayne didn’t want to explain. “Jayne,” Mal said slowly, in that annoyingly patronizing voice. “Explain to me why you felt the need to traipse about Andover with an arsenal attached to yourself.” “Did we get the money?” Jayne asked again, ignoring Mal’s question. “All that we wanted and more. The Doc is a swift negotiator.” Jayne raised an eyebrow at Simon who helplessly chased River about the room while she babbled about yellow siding. “That Doc?” “Now all we need is our ship,” Mal said. “What happed to the ship?” Jayne asked. “I cleared three scouts. That’s all there were when I left it to follow Crazy Girl.” “Cargo arrived early,” Mal answered, indicating the crates. River was circling them and Simon followed, hands on her shoulders. “Their bodies are surrounded by fire,” River was saying. Jayne smiled at the thought of the payoff, but his smile quickly faded as he recognized the type of cargo he was looking at. “Them crates look eerily familiar.” “That they are,” Mal agreed, surveying the situation. “Jayne, we could use a long range up top for look out.” “I’ll go,” Zoë volunteered, reaching out and taking the rifle from Jayne. Quickly, she hobbled up the stairs, clearly wanting to be away from the room. “Shepherd will be in shortly with supper,” Mal told Jayne. Jayne was about to say that he’d already eaten, but decided a second dinner wasn’t a bad thing. He was just glad that he wasn’t the one having to listen to River’s yammering anymore. “I should go make sure Zoë doesn’t take a topple on that ladder,” Mal said, then more loudly continued. “Doc, you keep her away from that cargo!” Simon looked over as Mal disappeared up the stairs. Try as he might, Simon could not coax River away from the cargo. She circled each crate slowly. “Boy,” she murmured. “Girl, boy.” Unexpectedly, River kicked the lid off the first crate, sending a crash echoing through the room. “River, no!” Simon yelled. He rushed forward to restrain her, but she flailed wildly, her elbow catching him in the jaw. Grumbling a stream of curses, Jayne jumped into action, tackling River to the ground, but not before she knocked the lids off the other two crates. The cold air rising from the box created a steaming effect. Simon felt his stomach drop apprehensively. “Kaylee, go and find some clothing,” Simon ordered. Jayne wrestled River until they were both on their knees. Once she could see the boxes again, she dialed back her struggling. “We keep finding ourselves in this position, girl? Day wasn’t enough for you was it? Had to go compounding our troubles wakin’ them up.” As they watched, a girl crawled quietly out of the first box, hiding stealthily behind it and surveying the scene. Staying low, she crawled to the second box and helped a little boy out, warning him to be quiet as well. “Their exit from the box is a fair ways quieter ‘an yours,” Jayne teased River. Their eyes all came to rest on the third box and after a few moments, nothing happened. “The third box,” Simon whispered, pointing. Suddenly the first girl was on her feet, screaming, coming between Simon and the third crate. “Stay away!” she yelled. *~*

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