(Thank you, Mr. Whedon, for this pleasure.)

[He paraded the men and women into the room. “Ladies and gentleman, what you see here is our greatest achievement.” Nervous cough, and he proceeded with confidence he did not quite feel. “What you know of the Academy’s research is mere surface-level. What I have done with my efforts in this room will amaze you.” He snapped his fingers and a light shone on the girl in the chair. She was calm as her hands—which usually gripped the armrests in terror—lay flat. No wide eyes or screams. He felt it was remarkable, for she never had succumbed to the medications so fully. But the government officials who lined the wall exuded only a faint interest. He leaned to whisper in the girl’s ear. “Do me proud.” One of the assistants flicked a switch on the Holoimager and reclined the chair. A hologram of her brain popped up and glowed above the girl’s head. She closed her eyes. “As you see in the hologram, the subject’s brain is still pliable and usable. We have done many tests—the latest procedure being an experiment on how she senses and reacts. Our observations are ongoing, but”--he grasped the hologram with both hands and rotated it slightly—“you see here that our incisions are few and her brain is healthy.” He righted the chair and turned off the hologram. “What of this latest procedure you mentioned?” asked a stocky man in a red sash—a lord of something. The man was impatient. “We’ve removed a portion of her brain to try and improve her reflexes. River has an innate sense of perception. She’s more gifted in movement and capacity to learn than any other--” “What does removing her brain do to help that?” The lord interrupted. “Our reports show River to perceive more by almost 90% since the procedure. It will take a bit of recovery before we know the full improvement of her ability.” The members of Parliament were appeased, he saw with relief. He could not divulge any more, and he hated being so vague. Now he could garner the recognition and his name would be known to the Board when the time came for promotion. He smiled, pleased with the day. This tour had been unauthorized, but it would pay off in the end. “Sirs and Ladies, feel free to observe the next routine check-up for our patient.” Another assistant parted the guests when she stepped forward. She had a screen connected to the Cortex in her hands. A few wires were placed on the girl’s temples. “We are going to enter codes that have been conditioned in her brain. Each code makes her say a certain phrase. She’s quite good at this exercise, and she never remembers when we ask at her weekly sessions. The beauty of the mind.” His assistant plugged the wires into a system in the wall of the exam room and took wires from that system to connect to the screen in her hands. River’s eyes popped open and stared ahead. The first code. “They cannot interfere.” Second code. “Whatever you ask.” Third code. “Strength and dignity.” The beeps and colored lights on the screen told him all was good. The assistant nodded and took off the wires. A murmur among the visitors. With a nod, he asked the visitors to wait for him in the hall. “I will be with you shortly.” He leaned to River’s ear. “Good girl.” She slowly turned her head to him and said, “Pride before the fall.” It was a whisper that carried to his core. She’d never spoken to him after these check-ups. He blinked and straightened up. She was back in her normal pose. Had he dreamt it? “Doctor, our reading on her vitals jumped significantly. What happened?” He gazed at the girl’s face, then shook off the incident. “She’s crazy. Get her back to her room.”] River dreamed of planets and terrible monsters. Simon was fond of old bedtime stories, and told them to her sometimes. She would shiver and then she would explain the improbability of the plot and people. Her dreams were realistic in all dimensions. People died. She screamed. “Wake up, River!” Brook yelled, and River obeyed. “Am I back?” River gasped. She sat up in bed. “Yes, and you’re getting worse.” Brook sat on the edge of the bed. “They did a grave thing today.” “I don’t recall. There were more people than usual.” “You must be careful. Whispers around here speak of horrors worse than death.” Without any acknowledgement, River curled herself into a ball. She was tired. The universe was on top of her, a burden she carried, and she never asked for it. “She’s alone,” whispered someone, and the last bit of River’s rationale recognized the dead man’s voice from long ago. She shut her eyes. No time for dead things. “I was alone until you came,” continued the man. “I’m not you!” River cried and scrunched even tighter. “Brook, where are you?” “Here, River. Hold on,” Brook paused. “If—you—can.” River opened her eyes. “You can’t be serious.” Brook nodded. “It’s simple. I’ll hold the universe for you.” With arms reaching to River, Brook stood and faced her. “Let me take this from you. I will never leave you.” “I- I don’t know,” River said cautiously. A voice echoed in the room. “No power in the ‘verse can stop me.” It was River, yet not River. She held a gun and a scared girl cowered by the door of the ship. River swayed with the vivid scene in her mind. And the white-blue planet spun in her space while millions cried to be heard. “No one need know,” a man in a red sash said as he gazed into the Cortex. Crying, she held one hand toward Brook. Cold. She was so cold. Naked and gasping, she climbed out of a box and arms hugged her. “What the hell is this?” a man demanded. Many more seeped and inflamed her conscious. Future and past—memories not all hers. Both arms reached now. I didn’t ask for this. All she had wanted was accelerated classes. “Are you sure this is what you want to do?” her guidance counselor had asked. “She said ‘yes.’” Her voice said. She was clear for the first time in a long time. “She is sure she will succeed.” And River was spoken for. She was Brook. Brook was River.

And relief was the greatest of all.