EXPECTATIONS (04) Part (03)

Follows SPARKS FLY (03). Precedes BREAK OUT (05).

The series so far: A LION’S MOUTH (01) ADVENTURES IN SITTING (02) SPARKS FLY (03)

Mal and Inara meet the buyer. Night operations.

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* * *

Kaylee sat on Serenity’s topside, repairing the helm driver. She glanced up from her work and saw the new supercargo, Mr Neumann, walking toward the ship. He was carrying a travel valise, a small crate, and satchel. Looked like he had his hands full. As he neared the ship, he hailed her.

“Hey! Miss Kaylee,” he called, setting down his valise and the crate.

“Hey you.”

“I’m the bearer of good tidings. Mr Holden was able to rustle up a cortex feed for you. I’ve brought it along.” He opened up his satchel to reveal a piece of equipment. “Do you need any help installing it?”

“Well, thanks. If you don’t mind handing me the tools when I ask for them. Set your gear in the cargo bay and come on up.”

A few minutes later, Ip Neumann climbed Serenity’s side and joined her.

* * *

Mal waited in the cargo bay, dressed in his best suit. His only suit, come right down to it. He’d worn it to that shindig on Persephone, when he’d fought the duel with that 混蛋 húndàn Wing. He’d carefully mended the waistcoat after getting stabbed, and the bloodstains had mostly come out. He’d only worn the suit one other time, when Inara had accompanied him to that shadow puppet play to meet that filthy 混蛋 húndàn Burgess. Huh. Seemed to be his “meet a 混蛋 húndàn” suit. Didn’t bode well for tonight’s meet with the buyer. Before he had time to think about the implications, Inara emerged from her shuttle wearing another one of her fabulous dresses. His breath caught in his throat, and his heart began to hammer in his chest. He met her at the foot of the stair. Giving a quick look around and seeing no one in the cargo bay, Mal leaned in close to her ear and whispered, “You look beautiful,” then gave Inara a quick kiss.

Neither Mal nor Inara noticed that they had been observed. Simon and River were in the infirmary when they happened to look through the window to the cargo bay just in time to see the Captain kiss Inara tenderly. Simon and River shared a look—“Awww.” It was so sweet. The Captain then offered Inara his arm.

“I’ve washed it,” Mal said, seriously.

Inara was ready to slap him for saying that, but she saw the smile in his eyes. She took his arm, and they walked off to dinner at 尘球 Chén Qíu’s finest restaurant.

* * *

Having fixed the helm driver, Kaylee and Neumann were still topside installing the cortex feed when the Captain and Inara left the ship. Kaylee spotted the couple. “Look! There they go, off to dinner!” She explained to Neumann. “It’s the Captain and—Awww!” she said as Mal stole another kiss from Inara.

“She looks like a Registered Companion,” Neumann remarked.

“She is,” Kaylee replied, with a note of pride.

Neumann gave a low whistle. He was impressed. He hadn’t expected this. The Captain must be higher class, and much richer, than he had chalked him up to be.

* * *

尘球 Chén Qíu’s finest restaurant was a well-appointed establishment that catered to the world’s (that is to say the Town’s) business elite. Inara and Mal sat at a table opposite Mr and Mrs Beier. He was a middle-aged, soft-paunched business man, who sat at the apex of the 尘球 Chén Qíu food pyramid. People like him kept the restaurant in business, and that was something he never let the wait staff lose sight of. The restaurant staff retaliated for his patronizing manner by providing some of the slowest service on any world spinning. His wife was richly dressed, younger than he but no longer in her first youth. She had very little to say for herself, and was clearly Mr Beier’s arm candy. Mal was pleased to notice that despite the richness of her clothing, she couldn’t hold a candle to Inara. Inara in a gunny sack woulda outshown this woman, on the basis of her elegance of poise and gesture alone.

The dinner meandered on and on, course after course, with bucketloads of small talk, most of it carried on between Mr Beier and Inara. Mal had never sat so long over a meal in his life, and it weren’t even half over. Mal did his best to contribute to the polite conversation, complimenting the buyer on his business acumen, setting up his supply company here on 尘球 Chén Qíu, so close to the terraforming operation, with convenient access to customers and shipping. He came up with all manner of polite things to say to Mrs Beier, complimenting her on her attire, elegance, manners, anything he could think of, to which she invariably replied with an elegant little nod of her head—it was her favorite schooled gesture, one of a very limited repertoire—and a half smile. She really didn’t have much to say for herself, and it was hard going. Her only offering during the first three courses was, “I heard you had a thrilling adventure in space with your navigational system all—how do you put it?—off line.”

“Yes, ma’am, nothin’ but a little glitch,” Mal answered with his most charming smile. “Nothing my crew and I couldn’t handle. Barely slowed us down.”

Meanwhile, Inara was keeping up a steady flow of conversation. She talked to both the Beiers about festivals on Sihnon, the Opera, resorts and spas, political figures—only as seen in society, of course—fashion, racing, sports celebrities—seemed there wasn’t a topic she couldn’t touch. Mal was impatient to get down to business, but every time he attempted to steer the conversation that direction, either Beier or Inara squelched it. He knew that Inara’s conversation was not the idle chatter it appeared, but was unable to follow the method behind the madness. He did his best to support her, chiming in with appropriate comments whenever he could. He had a good idea how poorly he succeeded in that endeavor, because every time he said something that Inara deemed wrong, inappropriate, or whatever, she stepped on his foot under the table. The foot was getting some hard, harsh treatment. This was the longest gorram dinner of his life.

Inara controlled the conversation, probing the buyer’s areas of expertise, finding acquaintances in common—or at least people that she was acquainted with that he would like to think himself associated with. Within twenty minutes Inara had the fellow pegged. She knew exactly where he sat in the social order, both on his world and in the wider scheme, where his weaknesses lay, and had mapped out a plan to maneuver him into a deal favorable toward Mal. It made it more of a challenge, doing this in company with Mal, because she had to manage his conversation as well, and keep his impatience in check. Midway through the fifth course, she saw that Mal was quietly seething, and spoke to him in a low voice. “Patience is a virtue, Mal.”

“Patience shot me,” he answered, and resigned himself to another hour of tedium.

At last, at last, dessert plates sat empty, and after-dinner drinks were served. Inara gave Mal’s hand a light squeeze under the table. He was free to open the business portion of the dinner at last. “Mr Beier, as pleasant as it has been to get better acquainted with you and Mrs Beier, we can’t avoid the press of business forever,” Mal began, although we’ve been doing a damn good job of it, he thought to himself. “So let me thank you for recommending this elegant restaurant,” only one on the planet, and they know it, the service is so slow, “and introduce the topic of the day, which is the cargo of terraforming gear you’re wanting.” Inara gave him a smile. He was doing alright.

“Mr Holden anticipates my needs,” Beier stated genially. He was making his first move. Inara read the subtext. He doesn’t need this stuff, Holden wants to give it to him.

“Mr Holden indicated this is a high priority cargo for you—that your business can’t function without it,” Mal countered pleasantly, laying his opening card on the table. “I’m pleased to be able to deliver something so useful to you.” You’re desperate for this cargo and stand to lose millions if you don’t have it right away. Ought to be willing to pay any price for it.

With Inara’s help, Mal brought the conversation back to these same points. He had Beier over a barrel, but generously, he’d be satisfied with fair market price—plus twenty-five percent as a starting point for bargaining. Mal mentioned that his next port of call was the terraforming site at 泥球 Ní Qiú, and that the terraforming gear he had in his hold would surely fetch a higher price there. No call to mention that he needed the space for another cargo.

Beier’s pleasant counter-phrases came down to the same essential points. He didn’t need this gear, really. Holden was always trying to foist his surplus on him. He was a generous man, and was willing to take this cargo off Captain Reynolds’s hands, out of the goodness of his heart. His business would be taking a hit if he had to pay full price for what amounted to an act of charity. Besides, the goods were delivered late, there ought to be a discount. How could he be certain the gear was intact, that the Captain’s thrilling space adventures en route hadn’t resulted in damaged goods?

Inara stepped in and overrode the objections one by one, working the buyer like professional wrangler. Mal had to admire it, it was so slick. She compared Beier to all the political, fashion, and sporting figures he wished he were associated with, flattering him, challenging him to step up to the bar set by these notables. Mr Beier began to feel that he was working his way into the good graces of the Companion. Stealing her out from under the Captain’s nose would be rather satisfying, now wouldn’t it? The Captain was clearly getting annoyed with the way the Companion was flirting with him. What if she came home with him instead of the Captain? The Captain was looking angry, put out. Beier definitely was getting the better end of the deal. He had momentarily forgotten that his wife sat right beside him. Her annoyance rivaled the Captain’s. He found himself agreeing to the Captain’s terms, the sooner to be alone with the Companion.

Mal and Beier shook hands on the deal. More to the point, money (in the form of credits) changed hands, and they agreed to off-load the goods immediately. After all the long, drawn-out, tedious dinnertime preliminaries, it was amazing how quickly Beier moved. Beier waved his foreman and sent a crew over to Serenity to begin the unloading. Mal alerted Zoe to expect Beier’s crew, and to assist in getting the crates off-loaded as fast as possible. He added another brief instruction, and knew Zoe would correctly surmise that the grav modifiers were to be loaded in as soon as the deck was clear. Mrs Beier moved quickly, too, to get her husband the hell away from that Companion.

* * *

Mal walked quickly away from the restaurant, and with ever so slight a limp. Inara had to work to keep up.

“So you’re comin’ with me, after all? I thought you were ready to spend the night with Beier.”

“That was the idea, Mal.”

“最的地狱 Zuì de dìyù ! What did you just say?!”

“It was your idea, Mal. Use my feminine wiles, make him all ‘sweaty and compliant,’ get you a good deal.”

“一切的 他妈的 该死 Yīqiè de tāmādē gāisǐ.”

“You couldn’t have played the role of jealous lover better if I’d coached you. Are you angry because it worked?”

Mal fumed silently for a bit. Yes, he was. Something at the edge of his mind told him he needn’t be. But he was still angry, so he latched on to the next pretext to be angry about. “And what was all that kickin’ me under the table about?”

“It’s the universally understood signal, used by couples everywhere, for ‘Shut up, dear.’”

Mal’s retort died on the tip of his tongue, as he realized that she had just called them a couple. Slowly his feelings transformed from anger to something rather better.

* * *

Ip Neumann was present in Serenity’s cargo bay when the crates containing the gravitational modifiers were brought over from the warehouse to be loaded in. As the technical supervisor of the cargo, it was his job to make sure the grav modifiers were properly situated and not damaged in the loading. He soon realized that he’d walked into a war zone, and did his best not to get in the way of the cross-fire between the crew members that he’d barely met.

Zoe was losing her temper. “Jayne, I already told you where to stow it!”

“I’m just sayin’, them crates ’d fit better over here. There’s bolts already…”

Neumann privately agreed with Jayne, but was careful not to say a word. Serenity’s first mate was clearly not someone he wanted to get on the wrong side of. Then again, this Jayne person was also not someone he wanted to mess with. Kaylee also agreed with Jayne, and spoke up diplomatically to Zoe. “You want us to be movin’ the mule?”

“Stubborn as a mule, that’s what you are, Jayne!” Zoe shouted. “You put those crates right up against it.”

“Crowds the workings,” Jayne insisted. “Them crates’d be better over here. Better balance, better secured…”

“Do as I say!” Zoe ordered.

“Why?”

To everyone’s astonishment, Zoe suddenly burst into tears and rushed out of the cargo bay.

“What’d I say?” Jayne asked.

“你混球, 你无情的糊涂人 Nǐ húnqiú, nǐ wúqíng de hútu rén ,” Kaylee hissed at him.

* * *

There was never a dull moment. As Mal escorted Inara up the ramp into the cargo bay, he saw Zoe burst into tears and rush away. He confronted Jayne.

“What’s this, Jayne, bringing Zoe to tears? I’ve known her for near fifteen years, seen her in every mood, never once seen her cry. What in the wide ’Verse did you say to her?”

“I just told her I thought them crates ’d do better stacked on the port side. Then she bust into tears.”

“Huh.”

* * *

Later that night, Mal stopped off to see Simon in the infirmary. He had changed out of his shindig suit and was dressed for night operations. Simon handed him a small packet, which he placed in the inside pocket of his jacket. He would need it when he and Zoe visited Nilsen’s compound.

“Just one of those ought to be enough, but I’ve given you extra in case you need it,” Simon informed Mal.

“That oughtta do it. And Doc, when we get back, you mind having a look at Zoe? She just ain’t been herself lately. I’m worried she’s thinking overmuch on things she can’t do nothin’ about, gettin’ herself all depressed.” He paused, considering Zoe’s odd behavior at lunch. “And maybe she got the stomach flu on top of it all.”

* * *

Zoe’s well-being was still very much on Mal’s mind as they made their way down towards Rollie’s Wharf and Nilsen’s compound. She, too, was dressed for night operations, and besides their usual side arms, both carried a number of the more esoteric tools they used for overriding electronic barriers and opening locks. Zoe could tell that the Captain had worked himself up into another one of those sensitive-and-supportive states, which was a crazy way to act going into a burglary job. Man seemed to have a case of verbal diarrhea. Couldn’t stop his mouth from running.

“…wanna make sure you’re alright,” Mal was saying, as they jogged along, “…so just let me know, Zoe, if you need to. I’m there for you.”

She made no reply, and they continued in silence for a stretch. Then Mal seemed to find it necessary to make conversation again. “This part of town sure clears out at night. Ain’t nobody down here but Nilsen’s people and us brigands. You sure you’re alright, Zoe?” he asked, for perhaps the tenth time.

“Sir, will you stop askin’ if I’m alright? ’Cause, yeah, I’m alright. If I ain’t I’ll let you know straight up. That’s as regards the basics. And as for the other, no, I ain’t alright, and ain’t nothin’ going to make it right, neither. My husband’s still dead, and nothing you say can change that fact.” She paused a moment. “But thanks for your concern, just the same. I appreciate it, Mal,” she said, using his name for a change.

“I’ll shut up then, Zoe. But please let me know if I can help.”

“Well, sir, if you can take out that sentry and cover me while I disable the Georgian perimeter barrier—I reckon that would help.”

They closed in and Mal silently took out the sentry, taking him by surprise and delivering a knockout blow, followed by a sedative nasal spray that would keep him down for a good hour. Zoe moved forward with a belly crawl toward an unseen barrier, and pulled a tool from her kit. She used it to cut through an unseen trip wire, then she used a second tool to override the security codes. A tall electronic fence briefly flickered into view, fizzled, and died away.

Mal covered her as she moved carefully across the barrier zone. No alarm.

Zoe edged around the corner of a shed, taking out a second sentry from behind, in perfect silence, leaving him unconscious in back of the shed. Mal and Zoe traded the lead, advancing and covering. As Mal rounded the corner of a long, low building he encountered a fierce guard dog. It became aware of him about the same time he saw it, and it began to growl. He reached into his pocket and pulled out Simon’s packet. Opening it, he tossed a biscuit directly to the dog, who snapped it up. Within seconds, the fast-acting narcotic had the dog flopping down into a drugged sleep. Then Mal saw the other dog, and the extra biscuit came in handy. When both dogs were down, Mal motioned Zoe forward.

They moved cautiously past the house that served as Nilsen’s office. Seemed their caution wasn’t entirely necessary, as no one seemed to be watching the house. The lights were blazing and, judging by the sounds issuing forth, some kind of party was going on. It wasn’t a nice friendly sit-down-drink-tea kind of party either. Nilsen’s parties were the kind where his customers and associates sampled the wares he trafficked, Mal suspected, and he shook off the crawly feeling he got imagining the unsavory acts taking place inside that house.

* * *

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glossary

混蛋 húndàn [bastard]

尘球 Chén Qíu [name of a world]

泥球 Ní Qiú [name of a world]

最的地狱 Zuì de dìyù [Bloody hell]

一切的 他妈的 该死 Yīqiè de tāmādē gāisǐ [Goddammit all]

你混球, 你无情的糊涂人 Nǐ húnqiú, nǐ wúqíng de hútu rén [You fink, you unfeeling lout]

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