Thank you for this bitter knowledge – Rufus Wainwright, Go or Go Ahead

River looked down on the world, not at all surprised that she was able to breathe in the vacuum of space. It’s just the way things were. From up above, she could see every ridge and valley and body of water on the planet laid out before her like a topography map. It was really quite beautiful and reminded her of a hovering globe of Osiris she had in her room as a child. It had been a birthday present from her parents and it had been placed in the corner opposite her bed, so she could see it at night. It worked on a small anti-grav drive, which she had taken apart and reassembled the first chance she had, and it spun in perfect time with Osiris, glowing a warm yellow during the day and a soothing blue at night. It had calmed her on nights when she couldn’t make her mind stop its constant calculating. She would lie in her bed, hold her thumb and index finger out in front of her and, if she squinted just right, it looked like she held the planet in her own hand. A whole world between her child’s finger and thumb. Back when she thought that the whole ‘Verse was hers to own… She tried it, just then, reached out through the Black and held out her hand and smiled when it was just like she remembered. She gave her fingers an experimental squeeze and was shocked when she could actually feel the planet there, between her digits. An insubstantial weight, like a marble, but still, it was there. She leaned in close to better inspect this novel phenomenon and gasped when the atmosphere of the planet pulled her in like a meteor. River found herself on the surface of the planet. No longer a topography map, but a vast and barren reality. Bleak plateaus and the empty black of canyons at night. A large red moon cast a deathly pal on everything and it might have been ugly had a smaller moon, pure white, not softened the red glow and made everything look strangely nostalgic. In the distance she could see the glow of a fire. Could be a distant campfire or and even more distant conflagration. It was impossible to tell the size of the blaze from here. She walked. The place was utterly featureless. Not a single identifying feature to tell one rock or canyon wall from another. The effect was very unsettling and she started to wish she was back up in the comforting Black, but something inside told her that she had to find the source of the fire. That it was the only reason she was here, the one distinguishing thing in utter monotony. Eventually, it got closer and she saw that it was, indeed a campfire, but it was also impossible. The figure that was crouched down in front of the fire, warming his hands, could not be there. He had his back turned to her, but she knew it was him just the same. Dark skin, white hair contained, thankfully, in braids that hit the base of his skull. It absolutely could not be him. Then he turned, a hand raised in greeting, and she saw that it absolutely was. He left his circle of light and came out into the sepia colored night to meet her. He enveloped her in a warm hug and she leaned into his shoulder, inhaling the scent of him. “River-child,” he murmured into her hair “Welcome. How are you?” River pulled back and looked at him, unsure how to answer. “Better than you,” was her reply. He chuckled. “Now, I find that hard to believe.” “We buried you, preacher-man,” she countered. “I’m well aware of that,” he said “But I’m content with where I am.” She made a face. “Here?” “No, River, not here. This is your doing. You made this place. It seems to be your idea of a neutral meeting ground.” River considered this for a moment. “So, you’re dead?” “Yes,” he answered “After a fashion. Gone from the world is a better way of saying it.” “Did you ever get an answer as to how they fit so many animals on one boat?” It was the preacher’s laughter that finally drove it home that he was really there. It filled the night, doves circling up towards the star-filled sky. She could almost hear their wings. She closed her eyes and focused on the sensation, not wanting to lose it, but was brought back down when Book put his hand on her shoulder. “Faith, River, and Belief, both will get you far.” He paused. “Why am I here, child?” River looked at him, eyes wide. “I have no idea,” she answered “This is not my design. This is the conception of another.” Book shook his head. “No, it’s not. I told you, this is all you. I know why we’re here, though. I just wanted to know if you did.” “Where are we?” The Shepherd ignored her question and took her by the arm, leading her to the fire. Once there, he motioned for her to sit down and draped a soft blanket around her shoulders. It felt like home. “Talk to me, River Tam.” “I don’t know-” “Yes, you do,” he answered “I’m here because you already know.” River considered his words and said the first thing that came to her mind. “Do you know what it’s like to try and save the world and have them say Sorry, but no?” Book rubbed the worn cover of his Bible between his hands lovingly. “More than you’ll know, little one.” “The things that were lost,” she continued “Things that can never be retrieved and no one believed a gorram thing!” The preacher winced at the anger in her voice, but grabbed her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. “I don’t think you’re done, River-child,” he said. She looked at him then and saw the sad look on his face. It was a look she had seen on Simon’s face many times since he had pulled her out of the hell that was the Academy. It was pity. She reached out towards Book’s mind, not sure there was a mind to reach to, and was horrified by the words she knew he was going to say. The night turned suddenly cold and the fire went out, frost crept across the ground and she could see her breath in the moonlight. “Make it as uncomfortable as you want, but the fact remains the same,” Book said. River shook her head and the moons lost their light. It was utter dark. Out of the ink, the preacher’s voice still rang true. “You have to go back.” River woke with the word “No” on her lips.

****

Sleep had been impossible after her dream. She lay in her bed for an hour or more staring at the ceiling, willing the memories of Book’s words to disappear. They wouldn’t. “It was just a dream,” she scolded herself “Neurons firing in sleep and making the brain dredge up associative material. Inconsiquential. Irrelevent. Not real.” She didn’t believe herself for an instant. Failing to relax and a little hungry, she decided to go to the mess and see if there was anything she could take back to her bunk with her. She left the passenger’s dorms quietly, glad that Simon had decided to spend most of his nights with Kaylee, and stalked with her graceful cat’s walk into the mess. Opening her locker, she was disappointed to find it exactly as she had left it. She could be visited by dead men in her sleep, but could she find one little extra grape at the back of her locker? Apparently not. Just then, she remembered something secret and delicious that Jayne had come back from his last job with. He didn’t think anyone knew he had it, but she had been coming around the corner and had seen him stash it quickly in his locker. He would kill her if he found out…..but how would he find out? “The whole ship’s asleep,” she told herself. It took a few seconds to work herself up for the theft in which she reflected on all the unscrupulous habits Mal was rubbing off on her. “Mal. Bad. In the Latin,” she thought as she opened Jayne’s locker. There it was. Neatly hidden behind protein packs and Fruity Oaty bars. An apple. Forbidden fruit. Dark ruby skin and wine-sweet flesh. She could smell it from where she was standing and after the initial act of opening the locker, her hand acted of its own accord, stealthily bypassing all other foodstuffs until it closed upon the wonderful, glorious fruit. She extracted it from the locker, closed the door, and held it up to her nose. Bliss. She opened her mouth to take a bite and felt someone come up behind her. Her scream was swallowed when a large hand covered her mouth and she began to breathe quickly, almost hyperventilating in her fear. “S’mine,” a gruff voice said from behind her and another hand plucked the apple out of hers. The hand slowly released her mouth, but slid down her neck and rested there, fingers spanning her throat. Not squeezing, but not releasing either. “Jayne,” she said and he grunted. “Little witch is a little thief,” was his reply. He let go of her and she turned around to see him. He didn’t seem angry, but she was confused by the intensity of his look. His eyes were locked on her throat and it was a half minute before they raised to look her in the eyes. “Stay out of my gorram locker,” he said. She reached out towards his mind and caught a few trailing words “Smooth,” she intoned in a perfect mimickry of his voice “white.” “And stay out of my gorram head! “ he said forcefully “What you doin’ up? Don’t you know all good girls should be in bed?” His tone was mocking and she figured he was angry about the apple, but was surprised when he cut it in half and offered one piece to her. She took it with shaking fingers. “I…..had a dream.” He raised an eyebrow, asking her to continue. “About Book.” “Oh,” he said “Well, it’s been a spell, but I s’pect it’s natural to still have worryin’ dreams about things like that. I’ve never had, but-” “It wasn’t that kind of dream,” she answered. “Well then, Moony,” he said, mouth full of apple “What kind was it.” “Bad.” He looked confused and she clarified. “Different bad.” He was still confused and she shrugged her shoulders. “It’s apples and oranges,” she said “Doesn’t matter anyway. It was just a dream. Ridiculous neurons.” Jayne sat a beat and then, with snake-like speed, took back her half of the apple. “I’m not ridiculous,” he said “And don’t eat my gorram apples if you have oranges.” He stormed out of the mess and River didn’t move until she heard his bunk hatch open and then close, not entirely sure what had just happened. She raised her fingers and put them in her mouth, tasting the residual juice of the apple. “White,” she said, remembering Jayne’s thought. “Smooth.” She went back to her bunk, disappointed and confused and closed her eyes, dreading the moment when Book would appear again, but he never did. She dreamed of apples, woke with their sweetness on her tongue, but knew that it would not last. She had been given a bitter knowledge and she could almost taste it at the back of her throat. She would hold it in as long as she could, but she knew that Book was right. It was almost time to go back.