CHAPTER 8 Zoë stayed vigilant on the roof top of the church, focusing her mind on protecting the crew rather than her missing husband. Alegra had wandered up twenty minutes ago and after scoping out the city, had settled down next to her with hardly a word. Between the light of the twin moons in the sky and the city glow, Alegra was avidly reading a bible she had found inside. The damp evening air was thick with smog and as the night wore on, the roads emptied. There were no signs of Prio’s men, but Zoë did not think for a moment that they were safe. She glanced over at Alegra who was flipping one page back and forth loudly, as if it were saying something it shouldn’t. “You look perplexed.” Alegra gave a frustrated sigh. “Gideon’s battle strategy is entirely counterintuitive.” “Most stories of faith are.” “He gained good ground in a short amount of time. There must be something to his tactics.” “Aside from it being a faith story?” “I considered that. But fanatical devotion to a diety and a mantra of self-sacrifice do not explain the small losses.” “Why are you trying to glean battle strategy from a Holy Book?” “I’ve studied so much of military strategy and tactics, but I’ve never seen this book before. The Shepherd says it depicts actual events on Earth That Was!” “Some think so.” Alegra paused for a moment, considering the book. “It does get rather fantastical at points.” “You’re a strategist?” Alegra nodded slowly. “I worked for Alliance Intelligence for over a year.” “They’re recruiting young,” Zoë commented, surprised. “Between a prodigious intelligence and synesthesia, it just comes naturally to me. I find things people want to hide. That’s how I found the Academy. Found them.” She made a brief gesture toward the church, indicating the boys inside, then she stared silently at the space in front of her. “Why them?” Zoë asked softly. “Of all the ones to rescue, why them?” “Tyler is an orphan. He has no one to rescue him.” “They got him pretty young.” “He cries and the room shakes. That kind of power only happens in fiction… Wei, they were going to kill. They say there’s not enough of him left to be useful. But I have to believe he’s in there somewhere.” Alegra trailed off again, letting the silence hang between them. Zoë stood up again, circling the roof to watch for any changes in the environment. As the first moon set, the sky darkened and more stars became visible. Mal climbed onto the roof, stumbling on the loose gravel and swearing loudly. “Had too much to drink, Captain?” Alegra teased. “Not enough,” Mal answered dourly. “You should get some rest.” “I just woke up a few hours ago.” “I have a feelin’ we’ll be doin’ lots of runnin’ tomorrow and I want you to be rested.” “Tomorrow, if you don’t show your face, Prio will try to draw you out.” Mal looked doubtful. “Are you suggesting I show my face?” “Absolutely not!” Alegra chuckled, skipping toward the stairs. “I’d advise you to find a way off this rock without him ever seeing your face!” With that, she disappeared into the church. Mal turned his attention to Zoë. “I was actually talking to you. You should get some sleep.” “I’m not tired,” Zoë replied stoically. “I didn’t ask if you were tired,” Mal pointed out. “How’s your leg?” “It’ll do.” “Good. At sunrise, you and me go back to the spaceport and try to get the ship back.” Zoë shot Mal a questioning look, but Mal wasn’t about to explain his logic. She considered the possibility that Wash was still hiding on the ship. He was clever and bendy and could fit into tight hiding places. Hoping against hope, Zoë finally let the exhaustion sink in, and she went back inside to sleep.

*~*

Jayne rolled over, trying to get comfortable on the floor which, despite the pile of blankets and small pillow, was still a floor. He had almost gotten to sleep, but a clanking metal sound had woken him. He stilled his mind and body, listening for the sound again. A gun tapped once lightly against the floor. Concerned that their hideout had been infiltrated, Jayne reached for Lux. His revolver was gone! His eyes shot open and he scanned the room, rolling over as casually as possible. There didn’t seem to be new intruders, but he heard the sound again. Jayne bolted upright and searched the darkness. Most everyone was sleeping on the floor. River had fallen asleep upright in a corner where she had perched to watch Wei; Wei circled Zoë, staring down at her. Jayne couldn’t blame him for that, but a small part of him hoped Zoë would wake up and see this. Derelict or not, Zoë would probably give Wei a fair beating… or at least a satisfactory conk on the noggin. The sound came from the middle of the room where Tyler sat with all of Jayne’s guns lined up smallest to largest. He was busy dismantling one of them. Leaping to his feet, Jayne stormed over to give the kid a piece of his mind. As he was about to reach for the kid’s collar and lift him off his feet, he noticed that the gun in Tyler’s hand was actually Mal’s revolver. The others in line looked as though they hadn’t been touched yet. For a moment, Jayne’s anger melted into amusement as Tyler looked up at him with innocent eyes. “What in the hell do you think you’re doin’?” Jayne asked evenly. “Cleaning the guns.” Tyler worked carefully, clearly having no idea what he was doing. Jayne wished this were any other day where he could wait for Mal to discover Tyler himself and just watch. But here, they needed every gun working. Sitting on the floor next to Tyler, Jayne calculated the damage done to the weapon. Tyler handed it over, watching Jayne’s inspection. “Listen, Fidget, you don’t touch other people’s guns! Got it?” Tyler nodded. Jayne picked up the pieces which were all laid out neatly on the floor and started reassembling the gun. He picked up the cylinder. “Wo de ma! This thing’s still loaded!” Jayne cried out, looking at Tyler. The boy’s chin dropped, his eyes a mixture of confusion and guilt. Jayne dumped the rounds from the cylinder, then found the screw he needed to replace the cylinder and crane. “You could have killed yourself!” Jayne scolded, struggling to get the screw in against the spring load. Soon, a new thought perplexed Jayne and he considered Tyler again. “You ever take a gun apart before?” Tyler shook his head. “How’d you know what to do?” Tyler reached over and touched the screw in Jayne’s hands. The screw went in and locked into place easily. “Most times when there’s a screw, there’s something needs unscrewing to get to the middle.” Jayne tested the cylinder. The screw held. “How’d you do that?” Tyler shrugged again.

*~*

Inara couldn’t tell how long Prio and the nurses tortured that poor kid. She imagined they only stopped because they were tired. She had winced at every scream, terrified, knowing it could easily be her strapped to that chair if she didn’t get out now. Her legs ached from being cramped in the ceiling too long and though Prio and the others had left, she couldn’t bring herself to move. The kid’s cries as he begged for mercy from his tormenters echoed in her brain. Her stomach growled noisily, but she felt too sick to eat. Between fear, hunger, and exhaustion, she couldn’t say why her body shook. She looked at the gun, wondering that she didn’t shoot herself during those dreadful hours of torture… or more mercifully, shoot the kid. Exhaustion fueled by despair overwhelmed her. No reason for despair, she chided herself. You are nearly free. You need only climb out of this ceiling and walk out. Listening carefully until she was assured of the silence, Inara crept down and walked to the door. It was locked from the outside. She tried all of her keys, but none fit this door. After all this, she was a prisoner again, but this time in a much creepier cell. She cowered into a corner as if smallness might protect her from the evil around her. Desperately, she nibbled on the protein bar, hoping the food might give her strength and clarity. She prayed silently until she remembered the gun. Pressing her eyes closed, she conjured the emergency exit plan. Then with quick aim, she fired the gun at the door. Unprepared for the backlash, she missed the lock and the spray of heat of the impact scathed her hand. Quickly, she tried again. Time to run! Inara made a mad dash through the hallways, following signs toward the exit. Through the windows, the sky already glowed with pre-dawn light. Her unshod feet slid on the cold, tile floor. The front door was made of glass. Should she bother seeing if she had a key or just blast her way through? She never had the opportunity to decide. Four armed guards appeared outside the door. Inara slid to a stop, turning around to find another exit. More guards! She was surrounded! “You almost made it,” Prio cackled, coming into view. Behind him, she could see another thug pushing the security guard she had seduced. The guard was naked. “I keep telling him think with your brain,” Prio intoned. “But he doesn’t listen.” Inara’s heart pounded with fear. “If your hand offends, cut it off,” Prio continued evilly, then shot the guard in the crotch. The guard fell over, screaming, bleeding. No one rushed to help him. Inara stood speechless, wondering if Prio intended to harm her too. “You have a choice,” Prio warned. “You go back to your cell now and wait. Make no more attempts of seduction. If you offend, I will cut out everything in you that makes you a woman. Dong ma?” Swallowing hard, Inara realized that terrified compliance would only work against her. Prio wanted to intimidate her by making her watch this guard suffer, and making her feel she was responsible. Although it was working very well, she did not want to let on. Inara glided defiantly over to the ailing security guard. He was beginning to shake and would soon go into shock. Prio was just going to let him bleed out in the middle of the entrance lobby with everyone watching. Steeling her nerves, she pulled her gun and aimed it at the man’s head. “Does it hurt?” she asked sweetly. She worried her performance lacked the nuances it needed to be convincing. “I was worth it, wasn’t I?” The man looked up with pleading eyes. Mercifully, she sent a bullet through his brainpan, ending his suffering. Blood spattered on her white coat and scrubs. Prio’s face was a mixture of amusement and disappointment. He grabbed Inara’s wrist firmly and took the gun. “A compassionate spirit,” he mused. “That I can use.” Then to the guard, he continued. “Take her back to her cell.” Inara shook Prio’s hand off her wrist before he could notice she was shaking. How did Mal shoot people on a daily basis? Mustering her strength and not waiting for the guard to handle her, she strode back toward the prison block, pulling the keys from her pocket and shaking them in the air. “I can find my own way back.”

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