Blue Sun Job, Part 29: …In a Spaceship, and the Thief said..…

Sequel to the
Truthsome series (link is to part 1)
Blue Sun Job, Part 1: Plans and Schemes
Blue Sun Job, Part 2: Into the Lion’s Den
Blue Sun Job, Part 3: Going Smooth
Blue Sun Job, Part 4: Return to the Core
Blue Sun Job, Part 5: Life That Was
Blue Sun Job, Part 6: More Life That Was
Blue Sun Job, Part 7: ...and Robberies That Were
Blue Sun Job, Part 8: Zoe’s Tale
Blue Sun Job, Part 9: More of Zoe’s Tale
Blue Sun Job, Part 10: Going In
Blue Sun Job, Part 11: Home Again...
Blue Sun Job, Part 12: Waiting
Blue Sun Job, Part 13: Bushwhacked Revisited
Blue Sun Job, Part 14: Two By Two
Blue Sun Job, Part 15: Give the Devil His Due
Blue Sun Job, Part 16: The Edge
Blue Sun Job, Part 17: Going Through the Motions
Blue Sun Job, Part 18: Never Leave
Blue Sun Job, Part 19: The Bottom
Blue Sun Job, Part 20: Countdown
Blue Sun Job, Part 21: PS1467
Blue Sun Job, Part 22: X1823
Blue Sun Job, Part 23: Fallout
Blue Sun Job, Part 24: The Wrong Side of Normal
Blue Sun Job, Part 25: In Trouble
Blue Sun Job, Part 26: Interactions
Blue Sun Job, Part 27: Caught
Blue Sun Job, Part 28: A Preacher, A Whore, and a Thief…

Chinese:

Prelude: ECC1210

“E-C-C-one-two-one-zero,” the captain said to the preacher with a hint of challenge.

With a solemn nod, the Shepherd relented and answered, “Of course.”

Ecclesiastes, chapter 12, verse 10:
The preacher sought to find out acceptable words and to write words of truth correctly.

Ecclesiastes 12: 1, 2, 5-12, 14 paraphrased

...In a Spaceship, and the Thief said...

“So, what kind of cop were you?”

Shepherd Book chuckled as he slid the door to his room closed behind Mal. And more significantly, Mal thought, is that were and not are? Carefully holding his expression neutral, Mal folded his arms across his chest and studied the preacher. Finally gonna get some answers? Mal had his own notions on Book; just waiting to see if they held out or not.

“Jayne once said he figured I'd either spent a lot of time hunting bad cops,” Book said with a vaguely amused tone in is his voice, “or was one.”

“And what did you say?”

“Maybe both,” Book answered. Mal noticed his smile fade a touch.

“Yeah,” Mal said slowly, thoughtfully, watching as the Shepherd crossed his room to the far wall, doing something with the panels. “Weren’t a big leap to figure you was some kind of cop, somewhere or ‘nother. From the things you know. Things you say. Question is, which side?”

Book glanced at him. “I wasn’t in your war,” he said, still manipulating the wall panels. Mal cocked his head, studying what he did.

“Which means what, exactly?” Mal asked.

Pausing in his curious working at the wall panels, Book examined Mal. “You tend to see the ‘verse in an ‘us’ or ‘them’ way--Independent or Alliance. That wasn’t always the way of it. Long before you were even born, when I was young, there were other factions… even other wars. Not on so grand a galactic scale, nor as decisive, but to the men killed, the size of every war is as small as the diameter of one bullet, and as huge as their entire existence.”

Too many images came into Mal’s mind. Forcefully, he pushed them down and away, concentrating on the Shepherd.

A section of wall panel gave a ‘pop’ and swung outwards a few inches. Mal’s eyes widened. Book gave him a mocking grin. “I sailed on a Firefly long, long ago,” Book told him. “These ships are littered with hidey-holes, big and small. I suspect I know of a few even you don’t.”

“So I’m thinkin’,” Mal said--case in point--as Book reached into the narrow space. “You ain’t exactly said you weren’t Alliance,” Mal went on, pausing a split but Book said nothing, “but I couldn’t never figure you for an out-n-out Fed neither, not even after I saw you hand an Alliance officer an ident card that had him drooling all over himself to tend to you. And now, I just saw you hand a different card over to another Fed.” He paused as Book took a small folder out of the wall. “Just how the hell many Books are there?” And how many are good Books?

Turning to face Mal, Book opened the folder and pulled out an Alliance ident card. He placed it face up on the small table that stood between them. Then another. Then another, dealing them out like a hand of solitaire. Mal felt a grin spread across his own face as he stared. Had to admire a really good bit of nefarious. Another card--the one Mal had seen him hand the Fed at the Magellan--and then Book reached into his pocket and added the final card, the one he’d just shown the marshals.

“Think you’re the only one who can have a fake ident card?” Book asked, his eyes twinkling at Mal.

Grinning at the array spread out on the table, Mal said. “Well that there is a purely fine hand of cards you dealt out, preacher.” He looked up at Book. “You tricked me into lettin’ on I had some knowing of your Bible with that code 狗屎 of yours, so I am just itchin’ to see what chapter and verse you yank up to justify this little bit of chicanery.” Mal gave Book a challenging stare.

Book laughed out loud. “Oh… son… look here…” Mal followed his finger to a small line of text imprinted on each of the ident cards. “What does that say?”

“Property of the Union of Allied Planets,” Mal read, then looked up at Book, puzzled.

“‘Render unto Caesar…’” Book quoted.

“‘…things which are Caesar’s’,” Mal finished. He gave an admiring snort. “Gorramit, preacher, that there is a fine little kneecap trick of words.”

A silence stretched out between them, the preacher’s smile fading as he distractedly straightened the line of cards with one finger. Book sat down, gesturing for Mal to do the same. Pulling up a chair, Mal leaned back and contemplated the Shepherd.

“Sorry,” Mal said, low, after a long moment.

Book looked at him curiously. “What for?”

Mal shrugged. “The kneecap crack. I’m grateful as all get-out for your helping save my sorry behind from Niska, but I gotta figure all that shootin’ and killin’ brought you back to a when and where a fella who’s a goody-goody Shepherd now ain’t too comfortable revisiting.” He scoffed softly. “Been a whole lot more of me leading you astray than the reverse.”

Book chuckled. “Oh, come now, captain. I’ve made some headway with you--as my mission, that is,” he added with a quick grin. “Why it’s not more than a year and I finally got you to admit to a knowledge of the Good Book.” His grin at Mal broadened. “And it only took the Alliance military, the police, a few days of psychological torture, the threat of prison, oh… and a few drugs, to get you to slip up on that point.”

Unable to hold back a laugh, Mal still felt obliged to put Book off that trail. “It’s like I told you, preacher. What I was force-fed as a youngun…”

Book held a hand up. “Don’t even try,” he said. “You know I don’t believe that.” Book gave a small shake of his head. “Well, I do believe you had a sound religious training as a youngster--when you finally said you were from Shadow, that gave me a good notion on how you probably were raised up.” He looked at Mal contemplatively. “They were good folk on that world,” he said quietly.

“They were,” Mal said, carefully pulling his control down around him, stepping back from the conversation and the memories. “Don’t go there, preacher,” Mal added in a whisper. Book nodded, a sympathy in his eyes that stung Mal. It was the understated, say-no-more understanding he got from Zoe.

“I didn’t need to know how you were raised to figure out when it was you turned away from God,” Book said.

“Preacher…” Mal started warningly.

“I knew the first day I met you,” Book said, cutting off Mal’s interruption.

Despite himself, Mal gave Book a questioning look.

Twirling the corner of his moustache, the preacher regarded Mal with a serious, probing expression. “Only someone who believed deeply and truly could be that angry at God. Non-believers simply don’t believe. It takes someone who feels their faith was abjectly betrayed to reject God the way you do.” Book leaned forward, meeting Mal’s eyes with intensity. “Captain… Mal… You named your ship Serenity.”

Mal could only hold the preacher’s eyes for a second before he had to break contact and look away. He opened his mouth to spout angry defiance but had to stop when the words wouldn’t come. Mal closed his eyes and let out a long slow sigh.

“Remember when you were young,” the preacher said softly, sounding to Mal like he was speaking more to himself than to Mal, “before the days of darkness came, when all before you was light and promise, when you greeted life with joy…”

“Before it was all broken, crushed, and shattered?” Mal inserted, not hiding the bitterness in his tone. The passage the preacher echoed rang clear in Mal’s mind. Hell, he’d brought it up himself; couldn’t help but think on the words. “But it was, and there ain’t no bringing any of it back. No where. No one. No how. To think elsewise is… well, it’s all vanity, preacher.” He took a sharp, stabilizing breath and fixed a hard glare at the Shepherd. “But we didn’t come in here to talk about me. We came here to talk about you.”

Book looked up at him with one of his shining smiles, this one shaded with a trace of past sorrows, Mal could see. “We are, son,” the preacher murmured. Book sat back and sighed, his eyes playing over Mal. “I came to my ‘Serenity Valley’ long before yours was even a cloud on the horizon.” He waved off Mal’s questioning look. “It wasn’t a battle--though I have seen a few of those--nor a long, slow dying of the ones around you you’re helpless to save. We were facing different directions, Mal, and we turned down opposite paths. But we both came to a time and a place where everything forever changed. For me it was the moment when I heard myself say I didn’t care if she was innocent or not.”

Scoffing softly, Book went on, “The thing was, I’d said it before, said ‘I didn’t give half a…’ well, I said it somewhat crudely. That particular time, though, I really heard it. The one looking back at me was… I’m not sure how to say this.” He met Mal’s eyes. “Have you ever looked at River and thought you’d do just about anything not to see that damaged little child be hurt any more?”

Mal just raised his eyebrows.

“Of course you have. You’re quite the hard-hearted criminal at times,” Book said with a chuckle. “That’s really why they’re here, isn’t it?” Book shook his head thoughtfully. “This girl was as damaged and hurt as River. And as deadly dangerous. Yet just as innocent of the forces that made her so. I’d have been doing my job, and doing it exactly right, to have ended her right there and then. But I couldn’t. So where did that leave me?”

“On the road to Damascus, I’m guessin’,” Mal said.

With a pleased laugh, Book nodded. “Maybe not as profound as being struck blind with God’s voice booming in my ear, but an awakening nevertheless. Years I spent tucked away, coming to terms with what was, until I decided to walk about in the ‘verse again. And what should be the first thing I come upon but a place named Serenity. I was merely enjoying the irony when dear Kaylee informed me that I’d be coming with all of you.” He spread his hand out. “So, here I am.”

Mal studied the man a long moment. “That’s a fine tale, but it still leave a helluva lot of questions unanswered. You say you weren’t in the war? Well enough. I can believe that. Don’t explain how you know codes our side used? Or how it is you can flash me underground recognition signals? Or a whole damn bunch of other perplexions that keep coming up and, even though I want to trust you, keep giving me the twitchies. You got any explanations for all that?”

“I do,” Book said evenly. “But can you wait for the answers until we reach the Sanctuary? It will be easier to explain there.”

“You ain’t leading me into some kind of trap, are you?” Mal had to ask.

“You can answer that for yourself,” Book said, not appearing offended.

Mal nodded. “Yeah. Guess I can, considering how many traps you just got me out of.” He chuckled and stood. “All right, then. I’ll be waiting on that tale of yours, preacher.” He turned to leave.

“A moment, captain.” Book stopped him. Mal turned back. “I believe this is yours.” Book held the silver disk recording of the interrogations out toward him.

“Oh, gorramit.” Mal gave an exasperated sigh. “Has everyone on the damned ship had a go at this thing?”

With a laugh, Book said, “I don’t know about that. You gave it to Wash?” Mal nodded. “Mmmm… Wash gave it to me. I didn’t listen to it, captain.”

“Rose above that temptation, huh?” Mal asked. He spun the disk in his hands, then dropped it in his shirt pocket. Nearest damned airlock, he was spacing this thing. Well… maybe. He was kinda curious his ownself just exactly what he’d said in the fuzzier parts. Maybe after a time, a week or two, when it all wasn’t haunting him so bad he could stand a listen without Zoe there nagging.

“Yes, sir. But the pride I’m feeling at that is going to take some atonement of its own.” Book chuckled warmly, then gave Mal a solemn look. “You have serious troubles brewing between Wash and Zoe… and you.”

“I know it,” Mal said flatly.

“Wash talked with me last night. I think I helped. I want to help. Let me,” Book said.

Mal regarded him carefully. “It’s all kinda personal and private.”

“This is the sort of work a Shepherd does. Let me do my job.” He shrugged. “Earn my keep.”

“You earn your keep well enough as the best cook we’ve ever had that I don’t pay a wage,” Mal said with a grin. “And the occasional dramatic rescues of my ass certainly earns some credit.”

“Speaking of which,” Book inserted, “You’ll be paying me a cut of the Blue Sun job loot.”

“Will I?” Mal said. Like hell, he thought at first, then realized they wouldn’t have any of it if not for the Shepherd. “You want a cut of stolen money? Okay. Hell, it’s worth a cut just to hear the justification you come up with for this one.”

“Maybe I intend to beat the platinum into plowshares,” Book said, with a small smile. “But you’re just trying to divert me. We were talking about you, Zoe, and Wash.”

“No, you were. I was trying not to,” Mal said.

“Sit back down, please,” Book said. Mal hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. He and Zoe weren’t managing to resolve the situation too well, maybe the preacher could get Wash all straightened out.

Sitting down, Mal said, “Okay. You got my attention. What’s your bright notions?”

“What is Zoe to you?” Book asked bluntly. “How would you define your relationship with her?”

“Huh?” Mal shook his head. “I don’t know. Anyhow, it’s Wash we’re trying to get fixed, not me.”

Book studied him seriously. “First, you have to realize that’s wrong. It’s the three of you in combination that needs to be ‘fixed’, as you put it. And it’s also the individual pairings--you and Zoe, Zoe and Wash, and you and Wash. Right now Zoe’s in the middle of two very powerful relationships and she’s going to be pulled apart between them unless you and Wash come to terms. Terms all three of you can deal with and accept. Let me ask again, how would you define your relationship with Zoe? Would you call her a friend?”

“Oh, gorramit…” Mal sighed heavily. “No. Zoe’s not a friend. That word’s just too… weak-ass lame. She’s… ummm… I don’t know… my partner. My right-hand man. Woman,” he corrected. “She just is.”

“Always at your side,” Book said very softly, “loyal, trusted, half of your whole, colleague, comrade, the one you don’t have to explain things to, who always knows what you’re thinking, who accepts you as you are when no one else would, cares for you, doesn’t judge you. Sticks with you in the bad times no matter what. The person who makes you feel safe, secure, complete. Does that sound like Zoe?”

Nodding slowly, Mal said. “Yeah. Guess so. Watches my back and I never doubt it.”

Book gave him a bland smile. “Yes. That’s a description of a good wife, and that’s what’s driving Wash to distraction.”

“But Zoe and me… we never…” Mal protested.

“Never what?” Book cut in sharply. “Been legally married?”

“Uh… Right.”

“How long have you two been together?”

Mal shook his head again. “We hooked up about the second year of the war. Been together ever since. The years in the army, then all the years since. Twelve, thirteen years or so, I guess. Known her a bit longer, first met sixteen, seventeen years back.”

“And you’ve been intimate,” Book said it as a quiet statement, not a question.

Mal reeled back. “Okay. Wash has been talkin’ outright to you, or you are real damned perceptive.”

“Wash said it,” Book said. “And it surprised me. I truly didn’t think your relationship with Zoe ever included that element. But he said that when you and she were young, before the war, back on Shadow…”

“Yeah,” Mal cut him off. “We were and we did. And it all went to hell on us and came close to splitting us up forever. But we got over that. Past it. It’s history. Dead and buried. We never revisited what went on back on Shadow and I’m fair certain never wanted to. Wouldn’t be right. We got no lusting going on between us, in our hearts or out. Wash has got no worries in that regard.”

“Hmmm…” Book contemplated him in a way that made Mal uneasy. The preacher was just too damned sharp at figuring things out. “I’d make a fair guess that as sergeant you would never have relations with a soldier under your command, correct?”

“Correct,” Mal said, glad to be back on steadier territory. “Nor as captain to anyone who answers to me,” he added.

“Yes.” Book took a deep, slow breath as he studied Mal measuringly. “That, however, leaves a few years unaccounted for in between. The two years you were in that prison…”

“We were still--far as we were concerned, at least--in the army, still sergeant to private. On top of which we were watched every gorram minute,” Mal said. “Can’t speak for anyone else there, but knowing the guards would be peepin’ in on the show sure as hell was enough to put me off my feed. Others, there, though… I recollect this one time…”

“You’re trying to distract me again,” Book said with a chuckle. “What about the years between then and when you got Serenity? It was just you and Zoe, together, wasn’t it? Living together? Sharing a residence? Perhaps a…”

“A bed?” Mal finished for him. “Hell, yeah. I’ve probably shared a bunk with Zoe more nights than Wash has. I know I have--and that’s sure as certain on the list of things he don’t need to know.”

“And as close as those living conditions were, and having no one else in either of your lives…”

“Okay, preacher. Stop.” Mal rubbed his eyes. “There was a time or two…” He looked up. “We were doing a lot of drinking back then. Livin’ the lowest of lives you can imagine. And getting in each other’s way no end when it came to, you know, trying to fraternize with anyone else. Basically, I guess you could say--他妈的, Zoe did say--we were seriously screwed up. And just now and again we’d let things get out of hand… But it didn’t mean anything,” Mal said, emphasizing the point, “and that’s the sorrowful truth of it. And that’s why we didn’t… why we don’t. Wasn’t right. Never was. Never will be.”

Mal let out a long sigh. “Don’t see how any of this matters a hoot in hell to the here and now problem.”

“It matters,” Book said, “because of the burden of secrets being concealed. Secrets have a way of coming out, generally in the worst way possible. Wash is feeling the burden without knowing the cause. He and Zoe are still very much honeymooners. They’ve been so caught up in the excitement of new passion and romance that they’ve been avoiding the aspects of marriage that sustain it for the long run. The aspects that--in this odd situation--you and Zoe have long since worked out. It’s a marriage, with three partners.”

Groaning, Mal dropped his head into his hands. “Well… that explains one truly bizarre question Commander Harken asked me. It was right after he come back from badgering Wash.” He laughed suddenly. “So, the simple solution is for me to get hitched to Wash. Zoe does recommend him as a bed partner. I recollect saying to her once…” He stopped when the preacher made a disapproving sound. “I’m just funnin’ with you, preacher. Their bed ain’t near big enough for three.”

Book rested his elbow on the table, toying with the corner of his moustache as he regarded Mal. “Do you want Zoe and Wash to stay married?”

Mal intended to protest that it was none of his business, that it didn’t matter to the ship’s operation, that Zoe was an employee and while her personal life complicated their business association, it really wasn’t… All the stock answers flashed through his mind in a moment. But he realized he and the preacher were past the point where such answers would hold a gram of water with Book. The man knew, in part at least, how tied he and Zoe were to each other. Others working their way in, Mal thought, pondering it. Things known only to he and Zoe, tightly shared secrets known to no other living souls in the ‘verse… Letting another person in… Would it break the tie with Zoe? Shatter the closed vessel of secret history between them? Or open it up and let others be a part? Let her husband in to be a part?

He made her happy. In a way Mal never did, never could, Wash made her happy. He’d said to Zoe that Wash was a keeper. Yes, he meant it. Whatever the price. If the price of Zoe having a happy life meant the ‘silver cord is broken, and golden bowl is crushed’ between her and Mal, then so be it. It was worth the price.

“Yeah,” Mal said out of the long silence.

“Even if it means they leave the ship? Leave your life?” Book asked it very quietly.

Well, that was just the heart of the matter, wasn’t it? “Zoe won’t leave,” Mal said with certainty.

Book nodded, his eyes as he looked at Mal again filled with the say-no-more sympathy. “Not unless you let her.”

Voices rose in escalating tones of anger rose from the infirmary as Mal and Book stepped out of his room. Behind the shouts of Zoe and Wash, Book could hear Simon’s low voice ineffectually trying to bring reason into the mix.

“…and you told him first?” Wash shouted. From the captain’s wince, there was no doubt in Book’s mind which ‘him’ on Serenity Wash meant. “Of course you would. After all, I’m only the father!”

“You’ve got it backwards, husband,” Zoe’s voice came, still sounding sweetly reasonable in her about-to-blow way. “The captain told me.”

“And how would he…”

Book turned to Mal. “What’s going on?”

The captain gave him a grim look. “Your next job,” he said.

Hmmm… in that offhand way, the captain had given him sanction--an order, actually--to intervene and act as counselor. It was definitely a step, but 我的妈, what a minefield to be dropped down into the middle of.

The captain’s often-unfathomable eyes studied Book for a long moment, then he reached in his shirt pocket, pulling out the little silver disk. He handed it to Book, then turned, striding off up the stairs without another word or a backwards glance.

Watching the captain’s feet disappear up the stairs, Book wondered if the man had any concept of just how much he loved that woman. But could he love her enough to let her go?

At least she’d finally told Wash about the not-baby, Mal thought as he stared out into the Black from the pilot’s seat on the bridge. If the who-knew-first question was causing that much explosive yelling, the ‘interesting timing’ part was like to cause a 他妈的 nuclear blast.

He and Zoe had argued many a time over the years, even yelled and shouted. A few times small objects had been hurled about, though generally not directly at each other. But they had never fought with the all-out consuming passion that she and Wash did. And didn’t that just say it clear?

Mal counted across the stars in view, but ended up staring into starless part of the sky. He checked their course. After the stop by the Feds, Wash had aimed them ‘up’ above the galactic ecliptic, where stars were few and Feds were fewer. Good. Mal’d been thinking to do the same thing himself. Had to make gorram sure they weren’t tracked to the Shepherd’s Sanctuary.

A quick stop to pick up the Doc’s gear… No, Zoe had the notion. A few days someplace quiet. Lay low and let the others decompress from all the tension and traumas of the past week. Be for the best. Shepherd said he’d spill the rest of his tale there, too, so best not to plan to rush. The others needed the time anyhow…

Zoe needed to tell Wash about the other.

No.

Yes.

Mal moaned softly. Only two people yet lived in the ‘verse who knew. Maybe it was better it stayed that way. Secrets have a way of coming out.

The words of wise men are like goads… Which goads would the preacher be jabbing ‘em with, now that he had authorization to do so.

Pirates with their own Shepherd.

Malcolm Reynolds talkin’ religion again with a preacher. Huh. Didn’t change nothing. Gazing out into the void, he thought how it didn’t change a gorram thing.

Did Zoe ever think about the lost one? Ever grieve?

She’d been worrying on him last night when she found out about this lost almost-baby. Wouldn’t take the comforting herself.

And they all thought he was the crazy one…

The Black was a comfort. The darkness upon the face of the deep. The nothing…

They didn’t know of the Zoe who woke up screaming, wanting him near but refusing to be touched. No touching.

She got past it. Soldiered through, like they all did. It was harder for the womenfolk, though.

The unimaginable darkness… The violations that wound not just the body but the spirit.

Locked in a grave with the ghosts… so many ghosts. It was harder being trapped in the darkness, not knowing, imagining, than to see plainly with his own eyes. That guard touched her wrong and Mal tried to kill him, never minding if it cost him his own life. No one was gonna do that to Zoe ever again, not if he could help it.

He couldn’t help it.

She never would say what happened to her after they dragged him off; just clung to him in the night without a word. Who was saving who? (This story told in “Truthsome” chapter 4: Darkness)

They didn’t know the Zoe who had a string of meaningless affairs, as if to prove to herself that she could do... that. He had to stand back and let her. Mal chuckled grimly. ‘Cept for a few of the bastards he punched out before they got the chance. The worst of the lot that just weren’t looking at her right. Weren’t no better than the sumbitches who hurt her in the first place. Worse yet when they let their ownselves get out of hand and… Weren’t right.

Couldn’t save her, though. Couldn’t save any of them.

Wash made her smile. Made her laugh. Made her love. Like a girl…

Mal didn’t turn at the soft sounds of another person entering the bridge. He knew that whispery quiet movement.

“Hey, River,” Mal said, looking up as she came to stand by the pilot’s seat.

The girl stared off into the Black. She seemed oblivious to Mal’s presence except her fingers dancing on the seatback came to rest lightly on his shoulder, barely touching, barely making contact.

“You readin’ my mind?” Mal asked softly. Weren’t a good place for a child to be roaming, not even one who’d seen more that her fair share of the bleak, hurtful nothing.

River didn’t answer, just looked out the windows, a small smile growing on her face. “You know, you ain't quite right,” she said, glancing down with a twinkle in her eyes.

Mal chuckled. “That’s mutual, sweetheart.”

She turned back to the Black. “When I expected good, then evil came; When I waited for light, then darkness came,” she said in a melodic whisper.

Getting to be epidemic, this Bible-quoting, Mal thought, recognizing the little verse from Job. “Didn’t feel a need to rewrite that one, huh, River?” Mal said. Then he answered for her, “No. ‘Cause that one’s just the plain truth, isn’t it?”

“Father wouldn’t come back for Simon,” River said. “But Daddy came back for me.”

Mal blinked, trying to fathom her meaning. “Having a bout of the cryptics today, little girl?” Actually, he had a hunch what she meant and it gave him the creepy uncomfortables all over that she should say it, think it, realize it. Looking down at her that first day in the infirmary, so small, so helpless, so innocent. Looking down, remembering… Mal closed his eyes and turned away from River. He wanted to send her back to her brother, but Simon would still be busy with Zoe and Wash. Zoe needed to tell him about the other.

River peered deeply into Mal’s eyes and he just had the feeling she was about to say the Big Thing, the profound thing that would suddenly make it all come clear…

“You’ll be paying me a cut of the Blue Sun job loot, too,” River said sternly, then danced away off the bridge.

Mal laughed lightly, then turned back to the windows, admiring how pretty the stars looked way out here, the way they shone in the Black.