River awoke on a cot in a room with flat, smooth walls and garish light from overhead. The illumination pierced through her closed lids, giving her a headache. She tried to sit, but barely got halfway up before falling back with a groan. Every internal organ felt bruised and battered, like she had just lost a boxing match. She lay still for a long while, catching her breath and building up the energy for another attempt to get up. She looked at the wall opposite the bed. A heavy metal door met flush with it, a small square window the only access to the outside. Memory rushed in. She knew where she was. The Academy. She thought she would be more afraid. The fear was still there, but mostly she was just numb. With concerted effort, she willed her body upright, gritting through the pain. She sat with her legs dangling over the edge, shoulders hunched. She raised her head to stare out the window. Memories popped into her mind again. Beyond the pane she saw herself, younger, maybe ten years old. She was a bit disheveled as she darted, fleet of foot, across the grass. Simon raced behind her, a young man, though grinning like a child with the thrill of the chase. They ran down a gentle slope until it leveled out against a tall hedge. She skidded to a stop in front of it. “Got you!” Simon plowed into her and fell to the ground, gasping for breath. “Look, Simon! Hodgeberries!” The game they had been playing was forgotten as she gazed at the purple berry clusters lining the hedge. Simon rolled onto his stomach and looked up. “Wow! They’re huge!” He bolted to his feet. She was already kneeling at the foot of the hedge, looking curiously at the berries. “I wonder if they grew wild?” she asked. “I don’t know,” Simon answered, grabbing a bunch and picking one off the stem. He tossed it into his mouth. “They’re ripe, though. Delicious! I’ve never seen them this big before.” She just kept staring at the berries, like they were the most entrancing thing in the ‘verse. “River?” She blinked and looked at her brother. “Aren’t you going to try one?” She smiled, delicately plucking one from the bush and placing it on her tongue. She closed her eyes as she drew it into her mouth, bit down on it, savoring the sweet juice. They were ripe and delicious. Simon was alternately eating and making a pile. “We should take some home. Mom can make a pie out of them.” “Yes,” she agreed and started collecting some herself. River watched the scene unfold beyond the window and she closed her eyes. She remembered the taste of those berries. She felt the grass tickling her bare feet. She smelled the musky scent of moist earth. She felt the sun warming her dark hair. And then another memory intruded. She was sitting in a dark room with only one light. It was not dissimilar from the interrogation room at the prison. It was cold, and not just in temperature, though goosebumps popped out on her bare arms. A doctor sat across from her. He acted pleasantly, but he felt as impersonal and cold as the room. “I would like to see my brother,” she requested. She wanted to see him, needed to see him. She was struggling to make sense of the frightening and confusing changes happening to her. The treatments they gave her hurt. Voices, she heard voices all the time. She saw faces of people she did not know, had never known. Some of them talked to her. Sometimes people talked to her without speaking. She did not know what was real anymore, and she was afraid. She had to see Simon so she would know he was real. It was so hard to remember. She thought she had written to him. But he never wrote back. -Why not?- It threw on more doubt. The memories she had seemed so distant and out of focus. -Was it all a dream?- she found herself wondering. Nothing was certain anymore. “Well you can write to him if you like…” “I need to. I would like please to see him,” she spoke over the doctor’s suggestion, voice hushed with strain. “Well, I’m sure he’s very busy,” the doctor responded after a few seconds. His not-speaking voice told her. Simon would never answer her letters, would never see her. Just like it had told her about the patient of his who died on the table. Her reality was falling away. “Yes… yes I’m sure,” she whispered. Both visions played side-by-side in her mind, straining her mental composure, and she sank back onto the bed. She turned her back on the memories, escaping into her garden. It was perpetually dark there now. Clouds and rain made the flowers wilt and fade. Their petals drooped as she walked among them. Something inside her finally broke. She collapsed to the ground and wailed. But the rain pounded down and drowned her cries. Outside, her body shook with silent sobs. She hoped she would fall asleep again. She wanted to sleep and never wake up. Then the lies and the distortions would fade. She would fade, become nothing, and it would stop hurting. She cried until the blackness took her again. Mal allowed a wary eye to graze across the blackness outside the bridge. Their escape, orchestrated by River, had not taken them far. He positioned Serenity in deep orbit, just beyond the transit of Osiris’ second moon, Tannhauser. They were only a few hours out, but out of range unless the Alliance came looking for them. He really hoped they had not missed any tracking bugs. His eyes came back to his crew, gathered around him in somber silence. Each and every one of them knew why they were there, and knew what he was about to ask. He was sure they would do it unasked, but the old soldier in him felt it was only right to tell the truth about what they were up against and give them a choice. It was the one thing River never had, and he owed it to them for her sake. “We have to go back for her,” Simon started before Mal could speak. “That ain’t gonna be easy. It ain’t even gonna be hard. It’ll be damn near impossible,” he warned. “I don’t care! I’m not leaving River there.” “You’re misapprehendin’ my point, Doc. I ain’t leavin’ nobody behind, least of all her. But we can’t go about this half-cocked. There’s too much at stake.” “The longer she’s there, the more time that have to… to… turn her back into what she was.” Simon was visibly shaken by the thought of River regressing to her pre-Miranda state, or possibly worse. “Drop me off somewhere. I’ll find my way in. I did it before.” “I’m with the Doc,” Jayne spoke up and everybody turned to stare. “You are?” Simon asked, flabbergasted. “Maybe she ain’t my sister, but that girl’s saved our skins twice now. I figure we owe her. I ain’t opposed to a little payback in the process.” “Neither of you is goin’ anywhere,” Mal stood firm. “You broke her out with luck and a lot of money, I seem to remember you sayin’,” he reminded Simon. “Those is two things we’re a might short on.” “I’ll find the people who helped me the last time.” Simon held his head up in defiance, but the helplessness was breaking through. “That’s if they’re still around,” Zoe added. “Might be the Alliance has taken them down, too.” Despite his driving urge to run off and save his sister, Simon finally succumbed to the logic of it. It was foolish to think he could do it again. It had taken him almost two years just to reach her then. He slumped into the copilot’s chair. Kaylee came to him and wrapped her arms around him. “As much as I admire your heroic notions,” Mal glanced between Jayne and Simon, “we gotta do this right, or we’ll end up full o’ holes or swingin’ from the gallows. And then ain’t none of us gonna be able to save her.” “What’s your plan, then?” Simon asked, voice hollow. “First, we gotta get a different ship. Serenity ain’t gonna get anywhere near that planet, and we don’t have the shuttle anymore. I’m gonna wave some people, see if I can’t call in a few favors, or take out an advance on some new ones. Once we got that, gettin’ into the Academy is the next hurdle. We need some intel, and that’ll take time to track down.” “What are you saying, captain?” “I’m sayin’ that it might be a while ‘fore we can do anything like mounting a rescue. Maybe a week. Maybe a month. Maybe longer.” He tried to keep his tone gentle, but honest. Simon slumped further into his chair. “Don’t worry, Simon. We’ll get her back. We ain’t givin’ up, no matter how long it takes. Right?” Kaylee looked around the room. Three other faces resolved into agreement. No matter what, they would bring River home. Simon saw those looks, but his heart was still heavy with dread. “You don’t know what they did to her there. When I got her out, she was barely River. They changed her. If she’s there for another month, or another year, there might not be anything of her left to rescue,” he enumerated his fears. “River’s strong, Simon. I reckon she’s stronger than any of us here,” Zoe got a nod of agreement from the captain. “She won’t let ‘em take her.” Simon hoped so. If not, his little sister would be gone forever. “Good morning,” a slightly over-amplified voice from the intercom shocked River into wakefulness. She jerked upright, feeling some of the residual soreness still. Peering through the window was a round-faced man with a mop of black hair. She recalled him, always shadowing Dr. Matthias. “Dr. Qin,” her flat statement came out. “That’s right. I’ve very glad to see you again, River.” His cordiality was faked. “We have a lot of work to do, so let’s get started. Please come here.” Though still pleasant, the direction was an order. She rose from her bed and did as instructed. She had no will to fight it. If she did, they would simply force her to comply in one way or another. They had methods. “Place your arm through the slot, please,” Dr. Qin told her when she reached the door. She slid her right arm through the sliding opening just above her waist. She felt a prick and heard the hiss of an injection gun. “Just a little something to keep you from harming yourself until you’re readjusted,” said the doctor. “Let’s give that a little bit to start working, and I’ll be right back.” He departed with a meaningless smile. By the time he returned fifteen minutes later, she was slumped against the wall, too weak to stand anymore. Through her dulled senses, she was minutely aware of strong hands lifting her roughly and sitting her on something. Thick straps were fastened about her wrists and ankles. She thought she might be moving, but her head was lolling so much she could not be sure that was the case. “… put her first through the basic stimulus test to assess the status of her conditioning.” Dr. Qin’s voice reverberated in her head like it was an echo chamber. “Fine… better have been worth it…” A second voice that was familiar but unidentifiable bounced around inside her skull. She fought to retain some awareness, but it was slipping away by the second. By the time she reached the exam room, she was unconscious again. Kriegel stood off to the side observing Dr. Qin’s test routine. River tensed and twitched in the exam chair, electrodes pasted to her head, chest, and fingers. He could not help fixing her with a bitter stare. He shifted on his crutches, keeping his wounded leg off the floor. He did not know what the tests were doing to her, but he grimly hoped she was feeling a little bit of pain. Suddenly the young woman relaxed and went still. “We’re done,” Dr. Qin announced. “Well?” Kriegel asked impatiently. Dr. Qin browsed through the readouts on his screen, hand on his chin and frowning. “This is very interesting.” “What is it?” Kriegel did not care about “interesting.” He wanted to know about practicality. Would they be able to salvage her. “Her conditioning seems to have broken down much more quickly than anticipated. Yet, it still appears to be functioning.” “What the hell does that mean?” Kriegel’s tolerance was eroding fast. “The subjects’ conditioning is programmed subliminally. That way we can control when it manifests. They are never aware it even exists. With her, she’s apparently become conscious of it.” “How can you tell?” “Well, her brain wave patterns should look like this,” he brought up a display of jagged lines on the screen, “when the conditioning is active. But, this is her pattern,” he switched to a different display. Kriegel noted the differences, but they both looked like random scribbles to him. “What does that mean, Doctor?” “That pattern indicates conscious awareness even when the conditioning is active. It’s like she learned how to use it herself.” Dr. Qin gave Kriegel a quizzical look. “That means she’s integrated it into her reality matrix when it should have remained separate.” “Doctor, will you be able to reconstruct her into something useable or not?” Kriegel asked, exasperated with the scientific maunderings. “This is highly unexpected…” “Doctor.” “Well, it will be more difficult. I don’t know if we can re-isolate the old conditioning or if we’ll have to start over again. Even so, she will probably be more unstable than before.” “So she won’t be useable.” “No, she will be,” Dr. Qin assured. “She was the most successful candidate ever tested. At the very least she will make an excellent research subject and provide a great deal of insight into how we can improve our methods for future candidates,” he flashed a confident smile that Kriegel did not share. “Don’t worry, Major General. I think it’s only a matter of time before we have the old River Tam back.” River awoke in her cell again with another pounding headache. Her first thought was confusion. She felt like she had a hangover, but she could not remember having anything to drink the night before. Then reality struck her and she remembered where she was. She rose from her cot with her head in her hands. She realized she was dressed differently now. Her dress was gone, exchanged for the standard grey leggings and hospital tunic of the Academy. The smell of food wafted into her nostrils, causing her stomach to heave. She looked up and saw a tray on the floor near the door. She was not hungry, despite not having had anything to eat for what she guessed was more than twenty-four hours. She thought about just starving herself. The part of her that used to be Ariel roughly dismissed that notion. Starvation was slow and painful, and the Academy would find ways to prevent it, feeding her intravenously or some other such method. She found she could not think of Ariel as a distinct entity within her anymore. She was just another aspect of her overall personality. It was a comfort in a way to believe she might have overcome the conditioning, but it made her wonder, had it ever really been something the Academy instilled in her, or was it always there, just isolated and honed for a specific purpose. If it came from within originally, what did that say about who she really was? She sank to the floor, picking at the food despite the nausea. Muffled noises from outside distracted her from her lackluster attempt at eating. Curious, despite her languor, she got up and went to the window. In the hall, two orderlies were engaged in battle with a young boy from the cell across from hers. Battle was the operative word, for despite being only eleven or twelve, the boy thrashed and clawed and snarled like a feng zi. One orderly held his upper body while the other wrangled his legs. They were trying to place him on a gurney complete with padded restraints. River could not tear her eyes from the struggle. Even at this distance she could feel the boy’s mind. It sent her trembling. The boy knew nothing but pure unadulterated terror. Lurking behind every face, every object, in every corner was a sinister shadow waiting to leap out and devour him. It gave rise to the incoherent rage with which he fought, the animalistic instinct to survive at all costs the only way his mind could defend itself. There was no child left in him. He was a vessel of fear and pain. The sensations were so powerful she fell to her knees with dry heaves. Only bile and the few bits of food she had swallowed came back up. The battle continued, the boy screaming and wailing inhumanly. The only thing she could liken the sound to was a Reaver. She pulled herself to her feet again. The orderlies had gotten him onto the gurney and hurried to secure the straps. His back bucked and arched, spittle flying from his writhing head. She watched, paralyzed, unable to believe the travesty of what this boy had become. And suddenly the anger was there. Rage, so blind it almost equaled the boy’s, ignited an inferno inside her. Without realizing it, she was screaming and pounding on her door. The orderlies paid her no heed, the window suffocating her screams, but she continued without thought or reason. As the boy was wheeled away, she clawed at the seams of the door. Then she grabbed her food tray and hurled it against the window. Food splattered everywhere, but the window held. She hurled herself against the door, pounding some more, but the boy was gone. The inferno started dying, and she slowly sank to the floor, the anger turning to tears. -Why? Why such a child?- Her questions went unanswered as she buried her head in her knees, back against the door. -This is my fate. I deserve this. But not him.- For the first time, she actually thought about the others like her. She always knew there were more, but she had never seen them. The Academy isolated all their subjects. The only contact she had was with the doctors and orderlies. She never considered the others, so wrapped up in her own mental turmoil. Maybe that was what they wanted, to break all human bonds except the one between master and servant. Even since her return, all her time had been spent wallowing in her own sorrow. Now she realized it was no longer about her. She had become a monster, done terrible things. But that fate was not theirs, not yet. She could give them what they had taken from her. She could give them a choice. If this was her home, they were her family. Brothers and sisters in mind and spirit. They were in danger, and she could help them. She would save them all. The resolve which had seen her through the ordeal at the prison boiled up and solidified like red-hot steel. The Academy had to be stopped. She stayed up all night, pacing her room, evaluating plans and options. Escaping with the other subjects was an impossibility. Even if most of them were in better condition than the boy, there was no way she could keep them under control and sneak out at the same time. Plus, she had no idea how many there were. However, the Academy had to keep records. Every subject must have a profile stored somewhere within the facility. If she could get to those records and somehow smuggle them out, it would be all the evidence she needed. The trickier part, then, was the escape. She knew there were ways. She remembered vaguely her escape with Simon. The shaft would not be easy, but she might be able to manage it if she could get away unnoticed. Timing would be everything. All of the subtlety and cunning she learned from Ariel would be necessary to make it work. She was afraid, certainly, but not for herself this time. She feared failing the others. No one would speak for them if she did not make it. Sounds outside her door stopped her pacing, and she went to the window. The orderlies wheeled the young boy back to his cell. He was silent, asleep or unconscious on the gurney this time. The fear within him was muted, but still palpable to her. The orderlies unstrapped him and placed him in his cell on the floor, apparently deciding carrying him the extra three steps to the bed was beyond the scope of their duties. She felt infinitely sorry for the boy, and fixed a murderous glare on the two orderlies as they exited. Neither of them saw her, and she wondered how they could perform their duties day in and day out without so much as a shred of conscience for what they did. They had to have normal lives, maybe even families and children of their own. How could they treat a child like that so callously then? Maybe that was what the Academy did to normal people as well. All the doctors, attendants, and orderlies living separate lives from the outside. Only they had chosen it. Her resolve only strengthened further. River was not sure what time it was when Dr. Qin came for her again. With her sleepless plotting and the lack of any external stimuli to synchronize her internal clock to, it could have just as equally been morning or evening. Dr. Qin peered through her window and noted her almost untouched tray of food. “You haven’t been eating very well,” he commented through the intercom. “I’m not hungry.” “You have to keep your strength up. If you don’t eat, we’ll have to resort to more drastic options.” She ignored his comment as if he had not even spoken. “We’re going to try something today that requires you to be awake, so I expect your utmost cooperation,” Dr. Qin went on. Her heart spiked with hope. Today she might have a chance, if not to put her plan into action, then at least to gather some reconnaissance. She held her emotions in check and stared blankly at the doctor. Her door slid open, and four of the burliest orderlies shuffled in. Their wary thoughts and postures indicated they expected trouble. She simply lowered her head, remaining submissive and withdrawn. Dr. Qin rolled in a wheelchair and the four orderlies took to strapping her in. The doctor then maneuvered her through the corridors, an orderly walking with them at each corner like a sentinel. She kept her head down, but her mental awareness was wide open. As they passed the rows of cell doors, she sensed at least a dozen, perhaps more, individual minds behind them. Some were in the same terrifying state as the little boy, and some were a bit more lucid, but all were suffering. She bit her lip to control the anger surging within. Upon reaching the exam room, the orderlies undid her restraints and more or less physically forced her into the exam chair, despite her lack of resistance. “I don’t think we’ll need you all today,” Dr. Qin dismissed them after witnessing her passivity. “She seems to be compliant enough.” He smiled and the orderlies wandered out, the last one looking back at her with narrowed, distrustful eyes as he shut the door. Dr. Qin stepped beside the chair and his attendant came to the other side. “Now just relax, River,” he said as the chair leaned back and lowered. Suddenly a warning siren blared and red lights began flashing all around. Dr. Qin and the attendant looked up in startled confusion. “Shen me shi ge?” Dr. Qin asked. In response, a recorded voice started announcing over the loudspeaker. “Warning. Fire. This is not a drill. Please evacuate immediately.” The message repeated in an absurdly calm monotone, and Dr. Qin and his assistant stared at each other, not sure what to do. River had no clue what was going on either, but she did not waste any more time making use of their distraction. She leaped out of the chair and punched a stupefied Dr. Qin across the jaw. He fell to the floor. The attendant backpedalled as she turned on him, her eyes set. She strode forward and snapped a high kick into his chin than nearly flipped him end over. He hit his head on the wall and did not move after that. Dr. Qin groaned and struggled to his knees, pressing one hand against the side of his face. She returned to him, kneeling down and wrapping him in a headlock. He gasped and tried to pry her arm from his throat, to no avail. “Where are your patient files?” she hissed. He clawed at her face but she jerked him back so his torso was at an angle to the floor, the back of his neck resting against her knee. He gagged, eyes bugging out, face already turning red. “Where are they?” she demanded again. It did not matter that he could not speak. She just needed to get an image from his mind. It came quickly as he fought for breath. She clearly saw the corridor the exam room was off of, leading to a t-junction. A right turn there, then another right turn where it dead-ended, and that was the records room. She saw the security panel on the door and watched as Dr. Qin typed in the access code. She committed it to memory. “Thank you.” She squeezed tighter. The doctor’s mouth opened wide in a fruitless attempt to gasp, but his windpipe was completely crushed beneath her arm. He jerked and spasmed, his flailing growing weaker. She finally felt him shudder and sensed his mind slip into unconsciousness. She let him roll to the floor. Then she got up and peered through the window of the exam room door. Several bodies hurried by, but in their haste she could not tell who they were. She waited for a few seconds until no one else appeared. Cautiously, she slid open the door, checking both ways down the hall. The emergency lights had come on, and, together with the blaring alarm and recorded warning, made for a confusing situation. She darted at full speed down the corridor in the direction she had gleaned from Dr. Qin. Kriegel was in his office when the alarms started going off. He swung his head around, trying to ascertain what they meant. He went for his com, but before he could dial, the security station feed popped up on his screen. “What’s going on?” he demanded from the officer. “We have a fire in the lower lever, sir. Near the main entrance.” “Damn!” he cursed. Of all the things that could go wrong. “Is it out yet?” “No, sir. That’s the problem. The fire suppression systems aren’t working.” “Why not?” “I don’t know, sir.” “Well, figure it out! Get some men down there and evacuate everyone else behind the security doors.” “Yes, sir. Should I call the fire department?” “No!” Kriegel shouted. He considered firing the security guard right then and there for such a stupid suggestion. -How do you call the fire department for a fire at a facility that doesn’t even exist?- Kriegel hobbled up onto his crutches and swung out of his office as fast as he could manage. He used his override on the elevator to get down to the lower levels. When the doors opened, he was immediately stung by a blast of heat and smoke. He ducked out of the elevator, coughing. Peering through the acrid haze, he grew honestly worried when he saw the size of the blaze. The entire main corridor was engulfed. Three or four brave men had taken fire extinguishers and were trying their best to contain the conflagration, but it was much too large already. The elevator was the only other way out. They would have to evacuate people that way, but the corridor was getting much too dangerous for it. He could not understand why the fire suppression systems were offline. This was a bad situation. He hobbled away from the flames, feeling their heat at his back, but breathing a little easier once he got into clearer air. His Cortex unit buzzed in his pocket and he stopped, leaning against the wall and fumbling with his crutches while trying to get the unit out. “What?” he yelled to the security guard on the screen again. “Sir, there’s been a security breach.” “What!?” “I looked at the feed right before the alarm went off. The guards at the lower level entrance are dead. They were killed by three people, two men and a woman. They started the fire and must have disabled the fire suppression system somehow.” Kriegel could not believe his ears. His first thought was instantly of Serenity. Were they making a suicidal attempt to rescue River Tam? “There’s another problem, sir. There is someone in the records room. Looks like a patient.” “Show me,” demanded Kriegel. His screen flipped to the security feed and his jaw dropped when he saw River Tam. “Get some men down to the records room!” he ordered. “Lock down all external communications. Nothing comes in or out. Where are the other three intruders?” “We lost them in the confusion, sir.” “Well find them!! This is an attack on our facility! Send every man you can spare to track them down!” “Yes sir!” Kriegel hustled as fast as his crutches could carry him through the corridors. He spotted three guards running his way. “You three! Get to the records room immediately. There’s a patient in there. Capture her but don’t hurt her. Go!” The guards took off in the opposite direction, Kriegel swinging along behind them. Once in the records room, River logged into the mainframe with Dr. Qin’s security code. She swept her fingers over the controls, searching for the files she needed. She found the main directory and scrolled through until she located the patient files section. She opened the directory. Each file was only numbered, with no names. She grabbed a data disk and connected it to the mainframe. Then she started downloading. She selected files randomly, some from the higher range of numbers and some from the lower, hoping that what she needed would be in at least some of them. She was reaching for another file when she saw one labeled “000177.” She stopped. Something swirled in her memory, triggered by those digits. She closed her eyes, drifting back with the flow of her thoughts. During the tests, they always said something right when they were about to begin. An official marker of some kind that was the same every time. A faint voice echoed in her mind. “River Tam. Patient number zero-zero-zero-one-seven-seven.” Her eyes shot open wide. That was her file! Breathing quickly now, she opened it. Her face appeared on the huge screen. It was the same picture she had seen so many times on her fugitive bulletin. She stared at it, unable to move for a few seconds. Then she shook herself free of the paralysis and closed the file. She downloaded it to the disk with the others. Fast-approaching footsteps reached her ears and she whirled her head to the door. She disconnected the disk just as three security guards charged in. They had their weapons drawn, but she could tell they were not stunners. Security was obviously more concerned about the dangers getting into the Academy than those trying to get out. “Stand down, miss! Put your hands on your head!” one called out as all three advanced. Her expression hardened and she held her ground, not moving. “I said hands up!” They continued to come towards her. She waited until the first one as close enough to reach out for her. As he did, she swept his legs out from under him. He took the second guard down as he fell. She grabbed the arm of the third guard before he could react, twisting and breaking his wrist. He yelled and relinquished his gun to her. She kneed him in the abdomen and punched him hard across the face. Before the other two could scramble up, she shot all three in the legs. Leaving them bleeding and moaning on the floor, she ran from the records room. She flew through the corridors, like the child she had been before, running down that grassy slope in her memory. Her thoughts raced ahead of her, guiding her through the maze of the Academy to where she knew the shaft was waiting for her. She was approaching the last corner when danger struck her awareness. She skidded to a halt. Chest heaving, she pressed herself against the wall and peered around. The hall was full of security guards. They had the door leading to the patient cells cordoned off. The shaft access was right in the thick of them. She checked the ammo in her pistol. Only six bullets, and there were more than six of them. She could not get to it. That meant the main entrance was the only way. She tore off again through the labyrinth. Turning another corner at high speed, her senses screamed alarm once more. This time she was too late to stop and collided with the person head-on. They both went to the ground. Coughing from the impact, she scrambled to her hands and knees. The man beside her moaned and she froze when she saw him. It was Major General Kriegel. His crutches lay scattered about him, and the portable Cortex unit rested by his feet. He moved slowly, apparently too disoriented to know what happened. River did not waste any time worrying about him. She made sure the disk was still in her grasp and bolted for the main corridor. The smoke grew thicker as she neared, and she had to slow down, her lungs burning from the toxic fumes. When she reached it, her heart sank. The massive fire blocked all possibility of escape. -No.- She collpased to the floor, coughing and retching. There was no way out. River dragged herself away from the heat and smoke of the flames, crawling almost on her belly. -There has to be another way.- Her brain worked furiously, searching for any options she had missed. One struck hope in her. She knew Serenity’s wave code. If she could get access to the Cortex, she could upload the files directly to the ship. Struggling to her rubbery legs, she ducked into the first room she could find. It was an office of some sort. Between the dim emergency lighting and her burning eyes, she had a hard time bringing up the Cortex broadwave screen. She waited for it to log on. The screen flashed a red message, declaring all access had been restricted. She tried again. The same message came up. “No, gorram it!” she punched the screen in frustration. The communications system was locked down. She could not believe that she had come so far to fail. She would not accept it. There had to be a way to get into the system and override the access restriction. That meant she had to get into the security control room, and she was not sure she could succeed in a one-woman assault. She did not even have her gun anymore, dropping it in the collision with Kriegel. And the answer struck her. Kriegel had a portable Cortex unit! If it was not attached to the Academy’s main system, she might still be able to get access. She hurried from the office. Kriegel was still lying where he had fallen. Trying to stifle her loud panting, she crouched low to the floor, watching him. His mind felt muddled still, and he was not moving much. The Cortex unit was at his feet. It was now or never. She dashed towards him. Kriegel blinked his eyes against the nauseous wave of pain in his head. His thoughts were like pieces of a puzzle that did not fit. He remembered nothing about what happened except something slamming into him and an explosion of light as he hit the floor. The only thing he could compare it to was the time a concussion grenade went off right next to him back in the war. Vision blurred in and out of focus, but he recognized he was on his back as the ceiling somewhat resolved itself. He was in the Academy’s lower level still, and judging by the flashing lights and blaring alarms, it was still on fire. With some of the pieces in place now, he struggled to get up. He lifted his head, but not without massive discomfort. His eyes squeezed shut until the floor beneath him steadied. When he opened them, he could only stare at what he was sure was a hallucination. River Tam knelt at his feet, bending over his Cortex unit. He blinked again, and she did not disappear. Adrenaline washed through his system, almost instantly sharpening his senses. “You!” he cried out. She only gave him a second’s startled glance before she was up and fleeing down the hall. He was not going to let her escape again, valuable or no. He drew his sidearm. His aim was unsteady, but he fired anyway. She shrieked and collapsed to the floor. River heard the gunshot at the same time fire engulfed her left thigh. She stumbled to the floor with a cry. Grasping at her leg, her hand came away warm and sticky with blood. She looked back at Kriegel. He was still on his back, but his pistol was aimed in her direction. He glanced at the blood trailing down her leg and grinned with vicious satisfaction. “Now we’re even,” he said. River fixed him with loathing. She wanted to break his neck, but she knew there was no time. She tried to crawl away, tears stinging her cheeks from the pain. “No you don’t!” Kriegel shouted and fired again. The bullet missed, striking the wall with a spark. She hauled herself across the floor and towards the nearest side corridor while Kriegel fired several more shots, all of which missed their mark. When she was safely into the side hallway, she pulled herself up using the wall. She had to find a disk reader so she could transfer the files to Kriegel’s Cortex unit. She hopped down the hall on one leg, fearful that Kriegel or a posse of security guards might come rushing behind her at any second. Shutting out the pain for a moment to get her bearings, she realized where she was. The exam room was just ahead of her. Stifling cries, she hobbled into it and shut the door, collapsing to the floor again. Breath whistled between her clenched teeth. She drew on Ariel’s strength to rise. She had to complete the mission. The workstation was across the room and she heaved herself over to it. She connected the disk, initiated the transfer protocol, and docked the Cortex unit to the workstation. The file transfer began. Her eyes and mental senses fixated on the exam room door while the computer worked. If they came for her now, she would not be able to fight her way clear. She was afraid. Never had she wished so much she was back on Serenity. She wanted to see Simon and Kaylee and the captain. Even Jayne would be a welcome sight. Her eyes wandered briefly to the bodies of Dr. Qin and his assistant. A lump formed in her throat. More dead. More killed by her or because of her. -And for what reason?- she thought. -Because the Alliance wanted me back here. They wanted their perfect weapon.- She knew it, ever since that first day she awoke on Serenity. They would just keep coming until they got her back. And now that they had her, they would make her into it again. At the very least they would use her to perfect new weapons. She had seen it in Dr. Qin’s thoughts. She was the key, their greatest achievement. -That’s who I am.- Tears of pain washed down her cheeks, but the pain was in her soul. Even if the crew succeeded, and the Academy was broken, how could she live with all that blood on her hands? And if they did not succeed… she would not be party to what the Academy would do to her and others like her. She had a choice now. Just one. It was the only one they could not take away from her. Mal wiped his face, cheeks sagging from exhaustion. He had been on the Cortex all night, waving every contact he could think of, looking for someone who could help them out. He had even taken the chance and waved Chrysabel. She was amused to hear from him. Surprisingly, he thought he detected some mild sympathy for their plight. However, unsurprisingly, she was reluctant to offer any assistance. He hung his head over the console, desperately trying to stay awake, but his eyes kept closing of their own accord. “Sir?” “Huh? Wha?” he jerked upright at Zoe’s approach. “Were you asleep?” she asked. “Uh, no,” he rubbed his eyes. “Just… just restin’.” He spun the chair to face her and saw the dark circles under her eyes as well. More than likely she had not slept, either. “Long night,” he offered and she nodded. “Any luck?” “No,” he shook his head. “They either don’t want anythin’ to do with us, or they’re too scared of the consequences if they help out.” “Nobody was willin’ to lend a hand?” Zoe’s voice carried a hint of disbelief and betrayal. “Well, Monty said he might. Offered to try to get us a loan on a ship, or even bring us in himself.” But Mal knew from that conversation the hopes of either of those things happening was pretty slim, and his tone conveyed it. “What have you heard?” Simon was suddenly on the bridge, agitated and anxious for any news. Kaylee was right behind him. “I ain’t heard nothin’,” Mal had a hard time controlling his bitterness for the fatigue. He saw the hope in Simon’s face shatter, and immediately regretted his words. “Look, Doc. Like I said, it ain’t gonna happen overnight.” “We’ll keep tryin’,” Zoe added, forcing a positive outlook she did not feel. “I know,” Simon’s head was down. “It’s just I thought maybe….” but he trailed off. “I can’t believe it,” Kaylee said. “Not a one of ‘em’s willing to help us?” she turned her hurt gaze between Mal and Zoe. “Ain’t they our friends?” “They are, Kaylee,” Zoe tried to explain. “But they got their own to worry about, too. And they gotta consider that they might get dragged into a heap o’ trouble that ain’t theirs.” “But it don’t matter. They oughta do what’s right. That’s what we did, right, Cap’n?” Mal turned his face away. Kaylee was right. If people did the right thing, then the ‘verse would be a much better place. But he also remembered, not without guilt, how often he had not chosen to do the right thing, for various reasons. Some were noble enough, but many of them were not. Given that, could he really fault everyone else for doing the same thing? He wished everyone in the ‘verse had a heart like Kaylee’s. The console lit up and Mal sat up straighter. It was an incoming wave. His hopes rose anew. Maybe there were some good hearts left in the ‘verse after all. He pressed the screen to accept. The face that appeared was the very last face he ever expected to see. “River!!” Simon shouted, so completely overjoyed that he almost elbowed the captain out of his seat in his rush to the console screen. “How did you… where are you…” “Simon. There’s not much time,” she said, silencing him. “I was able to get access to the Academy’s patient files. I’m uploading them to Serenity now.” Her hands moved off screen and another alert appeared on the console. Mal stared at it, then stared back at her. “Captain, accept the file transfer.” Mal did as he was told, the shock still not worn off yet. “These files should have everything you need to expose the Academy. That’s your mission now. You have to show the ‘verse what they’ve done to us here.” “I… I don’t understand. Where are you? We’ll come get you,” Simon said. River closed her eyes and shook her head, swallowing hard. “No, you can’t. They’ll come after you. I’m sorry, Simon. I can’t get out. I tried.” She offered weak smile of apology, but he saw the depth of sadness in her eyes. “River, just hold on. We’ll get you out. We’re working on a plan.” She shook her head again. “They’ll never leave you alone. Wherever you take me, they’ll follow, and you’ll be in danger. No more. I can’t come back.” “Now, River, don’t you talk like that,” Mal admonished. “You’re my crew and you’re comin’ home, whatever it takes. Serenity needs her a pilot, and I ain’t lookin’ to let you go just ‘cause the Alliance says I can’t have you.” “Sorry, Captain. It’s not your choice. They took away too much. I can’t stay or they’ll… they’ll…” her voice faltered and she looked down. When she raised her head again, they could see her composure on the edge of breaking. “I have to go now. But don’t worry. I won’t let them take me.” She raised an autoinjector gun, pressed it to the inside of her forearm, and squeezed the trigger. She flinched just a bit as the vial emptied. Then she removed the spent one, loaded another vial, and injected that as well. They all watched, unable to move or speak. “Don’t worry, Simon. It won’t hurt. I’ll just go to sleep. And then I’ll be at peace,” she assured. “I’ll be at peace.” She tried to smile, but the tears were rolling down her cheeks now. “Tell Kaylee I love her. And Zoe. And the Captain and Inara. And Jayne. They were all kind to me, made me feel like I belonged.” She struggled to keep her voice steady. “I love you, Simon.” “River… no….” Simon whispered. She reached out to touch the screen, as if reaching for Simon’s face. “Goodbye.” The wave went dark.

feng zi- madman Shen me shi ge?- "What was that?"