Phoenix Feathers, Part II Chapter 17 Disclaimer: Joss is Boss, and…and…and all these ideas floating around in my head are mostly his doing. So it’s really just a lesser version of something that he could do much better. And I personally wouldn’t have any complaints if he did…

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EXT- DYTON CITY SPACEPORT DOCKING BAY- MORNING

The ramp of the Stallion hisses open and a pair of shoed feet walk down it. Phoenix pauses, taking in the surroundings as the streets of the Bazaar District begin to fill up with people and produce. He glides out of frame.

INT- STALLION BRIDGE- SAME TIME

Monty is sitting in the pilot’s seat, presumably having stayed up all night and watched the sunrise. Priscilla enters the bridge quietly enough not to disturb him, but doesn’t try to sneak up on him either. She waits.

MONTY: (back turned) How is he?

PRISCILLA: Stable. He’ll mend, in time. Koyi’s exhausted, though. All that doctorin’s got her more irritable than usual, but she should- well, maybe if you held her down for a few hours. She’s not keen on leaving Clarke alone just yet. She took it hard.

MONTY: (back still turned) We’ve all had a rough couple of days.

Priscilla nods, wanting to say more, but holding back. Monty turns around and tosses her a small bag of coins- his personal savings, perhaps?

PRISCILLA: What’s this?

MONTY: Your share.

PRISCILLA: Share? We didn’t…

MONTY: Prissy, I may not be the brightest, but I do notice certain things. You’ve been looking for a long while now for a job. That should be enough to get you to where you need to go.

PRISCILLA: Sir, I...

MONTY: Plenty of honest jobs that won’t put you or your niece at risk, and I won’t have you endangering yourself by staying here.

PRISCILLA: This is about the kid, isn’t it? You’re going to keep him on- knowing what he is-

MONTY: We don’t know-

PRISCILLA: Why don’t we just drop him somewhere and leave him be? He can take care of himself- we know that much.

MONTY: Alliance’ll keep coming for him, hunt him down- I can’t let that happen. Not if I can stop it.

PRISCILLA: We lost the war a long time ago, Monty. It’s time you started living in the present. We play by the rules- their rules- and keep flying. That’s what you said, once upon a time. Now for God’s sake, put that damn coat away and look to your crew!

MONTY: (standing now) Decision’s been made!

Priscilla shuts up, furious. She shoves the money bag into her pocket, then turns on her heel and strides off of the bridge. Monty grimly watches her leave.

EXT- DYTON CITY SPACEPORT BAZAAR- LATER

We track Phoenix as he leaves the ship. He walks across a bustling street to a questionable restaurant (is there any other kind in the Bazaar?) and pauses. He catches sight of something, and walks through the crowded tables, never losing sight of it. Phoenix sits down at one of the tables and lowers his head, half defensively, half in greeting to the other occupant- Agent Murphy.

MURPHY: Didn’t expect to see you again.

PHOENIX: Could say the same.

MURPHY: Who are you? I gotta know.

PHOENIX: Can’t rightly say. Funny thing is, I can tell you the balance of your bank account, but ask me about what I’ve done before a week ago and I draw a blank. Seems like everybody’s after me, but for the life of me, I’ve got no idea why. This bleedin’ head of mine- stuff’s there, I can feel it. Deep down, under the surface. Sometimes snippets bubble up, but not often.

MURPHY: Your memory?

PHOENIX: Gone. Can tell you my name, though.

MURPHY: I’d rather you didn’t. But as for the rest- well, maybe I can help with that.

Murphy pulls a dossier out of his overcoat and tosses it onto the table before Phoenix.

MURPHY: (cont’d) That’s everything the Cortex has on you. It’s not much, I’m afraid. Turns out you were recruited a while back-pulled right of these streets, in fact- for a special program on Osiris, called the Academy. That name might as well come from my imagination, for all the data I could get on it, but it’s a start.

PHOENIX: Just yesterday you were set to cart me in, no questions asked.

MURPHY: You already know why.

PHOENIX: Not for me, friend. For you.

MURPHY: Don’t push it. I’ll get there someday.

PHOENIX: These files- they’ll be missed?

MURPHY: Will it hurt ‘em, you mean? Smidge.

PHOENIX: I meant…

Phoenix wanted to say “You’re in danger,” but nods slightly, picks up the dossier, and stands to leave. Murphy remains seated, brow furrowed.

PHOENIX: You shouldn’t. They’ll come for you.

MURPHY: Most like, yeh. But I’m stayin’ put. There’s plenty of good folk here- and half of ‘em owe me money! (Murphy laughs sharply)

PHOENIX: Well…

He starts to thank Murphy.

MURPHY: Don’t. This isn’t about you and me. Now get going, before they leave without you.

PHOENIX: Right.

Phoenix turns and walks away from the table. Pauses.

PHOENIX: I almost forgot-

He turns back, but Murphy has vanished into thin air. Phoenix grins (for the first time, probably. He’s amused seeing his tricks being used by others) then smiles softly.

PHOENIX: (cont’d, re: DeJulio) She loved you, too.

He vanishes into the hustle and bustle of the Bazaar.

INT- STALLION- LATER

Nebula makes her way onto the (now deserted) bridge to do a systems check. As she sits down and starts fiddling with various switches and dials:

NEBULA: I know you’re there.

Cody pokes his head through the entrance to the bridge, guilty.

CODY: What tipped you off?

NEBULA: The smell.

CODY: There’s smell? Where?

NEBULA: That, or you think I’ve forgotten Persephone.

CODY: Which totally wasn’t my fault! The ship rolled over on its own.

NEBULA: And you were nowhere near the bridge at the time.

CODY: That’s right.

NEBULA: (returning to checklist) Captain says not in a million years. Build a ship of your own or something.

CODY: Out of what?

NEBULA: All the stuff that breaks off this one, of course!

Phoenix has entered during this last exchange. He walks quickly to the copilot’s seat and starts tapping away at the computer.

CODY: Neb?

NEBULA: Wha- Oh, Phoenix, you might not want to...do that. That’s really my job.

PHOENIX: They wonder at the static nature of things. Jobs, goals, thoughts! Symbols could choose as well as anyone what they meant, but they can’t keep their secrets from me!

CODY: (to Nebula) What’s he going on about? I thought he was getting to be normal…ish.

NEBULA: He’s just…he’s been through a lot.

PHOENIX: They don’t know the half of it. Just seeing daylight’s enough to make the turtle hide in his shell. Turns him over, upside-down inside out- But I know my purpose- I read it in a book!

PHOENIX: (more lucidly) I shouldn’t go out so much. People are a little crazy sometimes.

Phoenix pushes a button with finality. Nebula and Cody are startled to hear the sounds of the engines warming up.

NEBULA: What did you do?

CODY: (investigating) He…deactivated the land-lock. Sent some kind of override…Look!

NEBULA: Captain! Monty rushes back to the bridge, somewhat alarmed.

MONTY: Nebula? You’re here?

NEBULA: Kinda what I do, Cap. You know, fly the ship? CODY: Which, thanks to Phoenix here, she now can do.

MONTY: How is this possible?

PHOENIX: Present from a friend.

MONTY: About time we got a lucky break- and not a moment too soon. We good to go?

PRISCILLA: (entering) All present and accounted for, Captain.

The two of them share a look- Priscilla has her reservations about Phoenix, but she will stay by her Captain and longtime friend- for the moment, at least.

NEBULA: Four engines in the green.

MONTY: Take us up, then.

CODY: Where to?

MONTY: Gotta get back on the job. I’m thinkin’ we hit the outer rings, maybe make planetfall on Beylix.

CODY: Sorry I asked…

MONTY: What?

Cody’s response is cut off by the roar of the Stallion’s main drive as Nebula guides the ship out of the docking bay and up into the clouds.

NEBULA: Now this is more like it!

PRISCILLA: It is at that.

MONTY: I think I feel a song coming on.

Over the crew’s protestations, Monty launches into an old folk tune- one of his favorites: The Leaving of Liverpool. The chorus is as follows:

…So fare thee well, my own true love! and when I return united we will be. It’s not the leavin’ of Liverpool that grieves me, but my darlin’ when I think of thee. Phoenix slips off of the bridge and walks down the long corridor towards the main bay. He passes the Med Bay, where Koyi is watching over the unconscious Clarke. We hold on them as Phoenix walks by. Clarke stirs, grimaces, cracks his eyes open.

KOYI: Oh, look. He’s still alive. Fancy that.

CLARKE: (assesses damage)…Am I on painkillers?

KOYI: Fresh out, sorry. Besides, I’m still deciding whether I’m going to kill you or not.

CLARKE: What?

KOYI: I mean, here I am, having wasted a perfectly good night pulling bullets from your insides. Nobody ever thinks about that, you know? You were probably thinking, ‘Gee, wouldn’t it be great if I got shot to pieces and came back looking like some kind of demented punching bag?’ Way I figure it, you’re either a Reaver or you’ve got a death wish. Don’t really care either way, aside from the cleanup.

CLARKE: Doc, give me some gorramn morphine! KOYI: How much did you have in mind? Got a special on ‘lethal’ today- I could hook you up.

(Despite her words, she moves to administer the proper dosage- perhaps she was waiting until the pain woke him up from unconsciousness? You never can tell with Koyi.)

CLARKE: ...That’s wonderful. (long pause) Koyi?

KOYI: Yes?

CLARKE: Koyi, I…

Her expression softens in anticipation of Clarke’s thanks, but he has fallen asleep! Koyi is outraged (the nerve!) and storms out, but pauses and leans against the outside of the Med Bay. She looks back in, exhausted but still watchful of (and a little concerned for) her charge.

EXT- DYTON CITY SPACEPORT- SAME TIME

On the street outside the Stallion’s hangar, an Alliance inspector walks up, looking prim and official in his meticulously preserved uniform. Shock and dismay register on his face as the massive Goliath-class cargo hauler lifts off not ten meters away. He watches it fly off, then checks his notebook. Frowns. He walks back to his car, miffed. Some error in paperwork, perhaps? The door closes and the car drives off into the busy-but by now familiar- streets of the Bazaar. The camera pulls out and away from the car and we get our final glimpse of Dyton City.

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EPILOGUE

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The elevator doors open. Barnes steps inside and pushes the button for the lowest level of the complex. The elevator doors hiss closed, and the car whooshes downwards.

MATHIAS: Hello, Bob. (Barnes gives him a look- ‘don’t call me Bob.’) You’re late.

BARNES: Thought I was being followed.

MATHIAS: Regardless. I take it the situation was seen to?

BARNES: There were…sightings, but I couldn’t find anything solid. Whether they were there or not is anybody’s guess, really.

MATHIAS: So what will you do now?

BARNES: Well, we don’t have much to go on, and new reports are coming in from all over: Muir, Persephone, -Dyton,- even Sihnon, apparently. But I have my theories, and with any luck, and a little help from our friends downstairs-

MATHIAS: The students? You tapped them for this?

BARNES: Seemed like the thing to do, yes. So, with their help, we should be able to sort through this data and look for patterns.

MATHIAS: Brilliant work. Huh.

(The elevator doors open once more and Barnes exits into the Nursery level of the Academy)

BARNES: I’ll be down here if you need me.

MATHIAS: Right.

BARNES: Unless you’d like to join me, of course.

MATHIAS: No, no. I’ve got other business to take care of- maybe some other time.

The camera stays with Barnes as the lift whooshes back upwards. Barnes walks to his lab, darkened and deserted. Keycards it open, strolls in.

He sits down at his spotless desk, sets his briefcase before him and takes out several folders (yes, business is still done with paper in the future!) He is meticulous about placing everything in its proper place on the desk in prelude to going over the files for the umpteenth time in the span of a week. He leans back in his chair with a tired sigh. Hesitates. Something is amiss.

He finds what he is looking for in the shadows, and the only sign of his surprise is a brief pause in his breathing. Then-

BARNES: Took you long enough.

MAN: You did well to keep us away for so long.

BARNES: Couldn’t exactly have done it alone, but that hardly matters anymore, does it?

MAN: (a modest shrug) In any event. Please accept my professional congratulations.

BARNES: Thank you.

MAN: And now, we have a problem.

BARNES: Oh, good. Always another one of those to worry about.

MAN: We know quite a lot, actually, about the events surrounding the disappearances of two of your subjects a week ago. Your supervisor, Dr. Titus, has been most helpful in that regard.

BARNES: And you believed him, did you?

MAN: It’s not my job to question orders.

BARNES: Then what are your orders? -If a dead man can ask.

OPERATIVE*: Very well. The Academy Program has for all intents and purposes been terminated, effective immediately. All files pertaining to the current situation are to be kept under lock and key- any other records are to be erased completely from the Archives.

(*although we cannot clearly see his face, as it is shown either in shadow, profile, or as an ‘over’, it is clear from the man’s voice that he is not THE operative from the movie “Serenity”.)

BARNES: And the students?

OPERATIVE: The remaining subjects will be monitored, but no further developments are authorized.

BARNES: So we’ve been neutered.

OPERATIVE: Dr. Mathias has been tasked with overseeing the remainder of the program- “students”, as you call them, and data on the Tam girl and this Subject 04. He will make observations and draw conclusions, relaying them to us in the field.

BARNES: Us?

OPERATIVE: Dr. Titus will be lending his expertise to my mission, along with your friends down the hall.

BARNES: You’re kidding. You’re taking them with you? Titus’ll love that!

OPERATIVE: They’ll serve their purpose.

BARNES: And what about me, then?

OPERATIVE: This whole business is a shambles. Breakouts, cover-ups, power plays…even rebel involvement, if Mathias can be believed. The evidence, both that supplied by your colleagues and by our own department, indicates that you were involved in this highly illegal operation from the beginning- and the amount of it is staggering. But we know when we’re being led on.

BARNES: Ah…But that doesn’t mean I’m innocent. God knows, none of us are.

OPERATIVE: My superiors want this mess swept clean. It never happened- the Academy, students, personnel…any of it. We can’t afford loose ends- and you, doctor, are a loose end.

BARNES: So it really is over.

OPERATIVE: It really is. (he stands, walks to stand before Barnes’ desk. We see him for the first time- nondescript grey uniform, military haircut, of Sinic descent.)

OPERATIVE: (cont’d) Doctor Robert Barnes, you were involved earlier today in a high-speed hovercar collision over Horizon City. There were no survivors. (He walks to the doorway, then pauses)

OPERATIVE: I know you care about what goes on here, but don’t come looking for us, Doctor. Keep your head in the sand. I hope for all of our sakes I never need to see you again.

BARNES: And if you do need to? What then?

OPERATIVE: Then, Doctor Barnes? Then I’ll find you. Goodbye.

He exits, leaving Barnes alone in the darkened office. The door slides shut.

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END OF PART II

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