Kaylee’s Lament

Chapter Fourteen

When a man can’t stand being under the thumb of an oppressive regime, can’t take the sting of the economic lash that binds him to the land, when that man is pressed as far as he can be pressed and does not break, it is no surprise that such a man can discover a way to escape the course Fate or God or Dharma has in mind for him and chart his own course away from any man who would pretend to be his master. Such a man was Angus McKlintock. Angus was born a bondsman on Altera, a miserable little moon at what was, then, the edge of the Rim. When he was 16, he stowed away in a tramp freighter. Discovered by the captain, he was spared spacing (the common punishment for stowaways) and pressed into service – the captain was short two hands, due to an untimely brawl that involved local authorities the night before the ship lifted. Rather than face a long trip with a short roster, he put Angus to work. Ten years later, Angus had learned everything there was to know about the small-time interstellar freight business, and purchased his first small transport. Ten years after that he traded up, purchasing a hauling scow, a long-distance barge sold off for scrap by a terraforming company. He called her the Sky Hawk, refitted her to spaceworthiness, and began plying routes between the Rim-worlds, taking bulk jobs that the larger companies were unwilling or unable to. He didn’t get rich, but he kept flying. Found a wife, and had five blissful years until she died in childbirth. He kept flying. Raised two boys to manhood on the rough-and-tumble frontier before a malfunctioning space suit send his body into the Black and his soul to the Beyond. His boys, Devon and Duncan, inherited the Sky Hawk and the business, and they kept flying. They also started to do much better than their father ever did. Devon, the elder, was an excellent pilot, but was not the businessman that his father intended him to be. Duncan, on the other hand, had a natural ability to talk a virgin out of her panties during Sunday School. He was smart enough to marry a smart woman who could take care of his ship, and then married another smart woman who could take care of his rapidly expanding family. Forty years after Angus McKlintock escaped from bondage on Altera the McKlintock clan was a formidable force in the unglamorous world of low-end hauling on the Rim-worlds. Utterly reliable and only occasionally prone to smuggling, the Sky Hawk was a welcome sight for a dozen worlds that rarely saw a spaceship without a colonization company’s logo on it. For the McKlintocks not only hauled, they sold; their ship was a flying general store and gift-shop. They were as welcome as Santa Claus, pretty much anywhere they went. Serenity met the Sky Hawk in the far-flung electromagnetic corona of a collapsing jovian planet – a popular haunt for smugglers and other folk who preferred privacy for their dealings. Sky Hawk belied her name by being a most un-hawklike squarish shape, tapered just enough toward the bow to permit an atmo landing – not as gracefully as a Firefly, but she could land and take off again. The Sky Hawk was twice again as big as Serenity, and she welcomed the Firefly to her airlock like a mother welcomes a babe to her breast. “I’m a little nervous,” Kaylee admitted to River in a voice just above a whisper as they waited for the lock to cycle. “Tinker, the oldest son, he’s always had a schoolboy crush on me – he’s a mechanic, like his ma and me. It’s sweet, but kinda embarrassing – he’s only fifteen!” There was a touch of color in her cheeks. “New people,” River commented, looking mighty hesitant. “You lookin’ forward to seein’ Duncan?” Zoe asked Mal. “I’m lookin’ forward to Winnie’s cookin’, to be truthful,” Mal said, grinning. “What, you don’t like my green stuff?” “Zoe, when it looks like paste, it’s bad enough. But for it to come out green paste – and tastin’ like packing material – that takes real talent.” He nodded toward the airlock. “Yon is the best cook in the Sky, and she’ll not pass up an opportunity like this. You know how she gets about feedin’ folk.” “I love her bao,” Wash admitted. “Soft and tender and delicious—” he wiped his mouth. “Well, maybe Duncan’s up for a third wife!” Zoe said warningly. “Honey, you and Duncan wouldn’t get along – two dominant personalities? You’d kill each other!” “I wasn’t talkin’ ‘bout me.” “Ouch. Well, he is a good provider,” Wash admitted. “I could do worse.” “Winnie is a really, really good cook,” Kaylee said, a little louder. “And she cooks enough for an army! Last time we met up, I faked a reactor issue, just so we could stay an extra day.” “You did what?” asked Mal, turning to face her. “Kaylee . . . !” “Oh, lighten up, Cap, that was a year ago,” she said, dismissively. “Kaylee— Jin tzahng mei yong-duh!” “Kuh-ooh duh lao bao jurn!” she spat back, then stuck out her tongue to show she wasn’t being serious. Pressure equalized, the inner door receded, and opened to reveal Duncan McKlintock, his brother Devon, his first wife Althea and his second wife Winifred, and his oldest boy, Tinker, and his oldest girl, Rowan. They were an extremely handsome bunch. Dark hair and dark skin – not to mention flashing gray eyes – on the original McKlintocks was nicely complemented by Althea’s blonde hair and Rowan’s red. The features mixed admirably in their children, for Tinker’s blonde hair went well with his father’s flashing eyes (he was Althea’s) and Rowan’s dark complexion complimented her fiery hair (Winifred was obviously her mom). All wore a dark green silk uniform embroidered with a stylized bird and the Chinese characters for Sky Hawk. A black sash around their waists and matching black silk slippers completed the outfit. “Lao pung yo, nee can chi lai hun yo jing shen!" called Duncan as the doors opened. He was a large man, both in height and girth, with big hands and a prominent nose, and his motions were bold and flamboyant. He was a man who obviously lived a life to be envied. “Juh jen sh guh kwai luh duh jean jan!” replied Mal. “Welcome, Serenity! Welcome, Captain!” He bowed deeply, then ran up and gave Malcolm a hearty embrace, then repeated it with the others. “Zoe, my sweet, it’s been far too long! Kaylee, you’re looking beautiful, just radiant! Jayne, you’re looking—uh, ai ya, that’s a mighty fine hat you got there! And Inara Serra, Precious Jewel of the Sky, you grace us with your presence once again!” “He seems nice,” River whispered to Kaylee. Kaylee nodded. “It ain’t his looks what got him two gorgeous wives like that. Man’s pure smooth when it comes to speechifyin’!” Duncan got a wide smile on his face when he spotted the others – the Tams and Book. “And who do we have here? New Travelers on Serenity’s journey? I am Duncan Leopold McKlintock, and any crewman of Malcolm’s is a friend of mine!” “I’m Book,” Book said, shaking the man’s hand warmly. “Shepherd Book. I took up with these folk a while back, out of Persephone. Been walkin’ the world with them ever since.” “Never thought I’d see Mal take up with a preacher, truth to tell,” said Duncan skeptically. “He ain’t taken up with a preacher, he took up with a man. One who just happens to be a preacher. A small but distinct difference,” corrected Book. “Yeah, I guess I can see that. Welcome, Shepherd! Maybe you do us a service while you’re here?” Book looked questioningly to Mal. Mal shrugged. “As long as it ain’t on my boat, I don’t care.” “I’d be delighted,” he said, pumping Duncan’s fist. “And who are these two folk? Brother and sister, if I’d had to wager, or first cousins, outside.” Mal came up and put a hand on Duncan’s shoulder. “These are Simon and River Tam, and you’re right – they are siblings,” agreed Mal. “But I’d be obliged if you forgot that the moment the airlock closes when we leave. They got a price on their head. Big one. Alliance credits.” Duncan’s eyes widened just a might. “What they do? Somethin’ terrible? I don’t mind a good scoundrel no more than you do, Mal, but if it’s Alliance heat—” he shrugged. “I got my family to think of. Anyone dangerous . . .” “I wouldn’t let them on my ship if I thought they were dangerous. Fact of the matter is that Simon here is a doctor, and he’s become my medic. And River . . . she’s kind of our supercargo. Helps out here and there. Great at EVA . . . and she, uh . . . keeps life interesting for us. They got mixed up with some government types, and Simon had to bust River out of the clink. Simple fugitive stuff. Suo-yo duh doh dhr-dang.” “Well, any fugitive of the Alliance can’t be all bad, now can they? Half the sonsabitches in the Black on the run from someone, somewhere. I ain’t real fond o’ the purplebellies my own self. Don’t tell no one, but I may have sneaked a few loads past the blockades durin’ the war. Welcome to the Sky Hawk, my friends!” “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. McKlintock,” Simon said, shaking the big man’s hand warmly. “Mr. McKlintock was my daddy, you folks call me Duncan,” Duncan insisted. “And let me show off my pride and joy: my brother Devon, best pilot in the Black, my wife and chief engineer Althea, my wife Winifred, she keeps our accounts, and my kids, Rowan, she’s a looker, ain’t she? Gonna be a pilot like Uncle Devon! and Tinker, who’s my back up mechanic. Real name is Aiden, but we call him Tinker ‘cause he ain’t met the problem yet he can’t stop foolin’ ‘round with. Say hello, people, don’t make ‘em beg!” They all nodded and bowed, while smiling widely. Tinker, especially, smiled big as he looked right at River. He added a voiceless “Hello!” to his bow. Kaylee looked at River too, but not quite in the same way. “Y’say you’re a doctor young man? I might impose upon you, at some point in your stay, to gives us all a check up, if you would. Don’t hardly get to a real physicker much. Wouldn’t mind you checkin’ us out, make sure all the parts are in their proper place!” “I . . . I don’t see why not,” agreed Simon. “It would be a relief to examine someone I’m not taking a bullet out of for a change..” “Simon’s a trauma surgeon,” Kaylee explained. “And he’s had good practice on Serenity takin’ bullets out of . . . hell, everyone but River, I guess!” She wrapped her arm possessively around Simon’s when she saw Rowan’s interest pique when Mal mentioned that he was a doctor. “Yes, it’s been quite interesting, professionally speaking. Although I’d like to see more stab wounds, to be honest . . .” “I’ll see if I can’t oblige,” Mal said dryly. “Well, you’ll get plenty o’ practice, flyin’ with this here crew. Best band o’ scoundrels and ne’er-do-wells ever broke atmo! You all are welcome! Got a feast all laid out – when your wave came in, we were at Beaumont, went out and had a hog butchered and dressed – Devon’s been roasting it in the secondary heat exchanger all day.” “And stinkin’ up my engine room,” complained Althea. “And relegating me to side dishes,” added Winifred with a scowl. They looked at each other and shook their heads. “Brothers-in-law!” the said simultaneously, equal parts affection and vitriol. “But we got the big table set up in the hold, so you womenfolk head thataway, we menfolk are gonna go inspect the pig!” “Yes, do run along with the other little muffins, honey-pie!” Wash said bravely, kissing Zoe on the cheek. “You can catch up on the sewing circle.” “’Course, dear. And just so you know – Althea’s always got better liquor than Duncan does,” she said knowingly. “What’s with the outfits, Dunc?” Mal said in a low tone when the females shuffled out into the Sky Hawk. “That’s gotta be Winnie’s idea. Last time I saw you, you dressed like a—” “Don’t mind at all if you stop right there, Mal. Yes, Winnie thought we’d look better, y’know, professionally, if we had some kinda uniforms. Give us some respectability – like we need that with our clientele! I think it was just an excuse for her to ply her needle – and make the girls do likewise.” “Looks mighty fetchin’” mal said with a grin. “A little tight here and there. Mostly here,” he said, poking the man in the middle of the stomach. “Don’t you start, you rangy bachelor! You go an’ marry the best cook in th’ Black, see how well your pants fit in the mornin’!” “Well, hell! Screw the small talk, where’s the booze hidin’?” Jayne asked boldly.

*

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*

That night both crews gathered in the main hold of the Sky Hawk. One long and rickety table groaned under the weight of the feast prepared by the Devon and Winifred McKlintock, respectively. All the kids were there, youngest to oldest: Hayden, Owen, Morrigan, Ian, Moira, Heather, Brian, Rowan and Tinker. Althea sat near Kaylee and Simon, and Mal sat with Inara next to Duncan. Everyone else sat where they pleased, ate what they pleased – and too much of it – and talked of everything from spaceship mechanics to high crimes and misdemeanors. It was an incredibly good party. The pork was tender and juicy, it’s natural flavors augmented by Devon’s sauce, a vinegar-based affair he swore his father passed to him from a family recipe that went back into the mists of time—perhaps to the Earth That Was. It was complemented by numerous side-dishes of fresh vegetables, noodles, dumplings and fried corn meal. Much to Wash’s delight, there was bao aplenty, hot, tender, and flavorful. The kids drank cold cider, while the adults got hard cider or rice wine, as they pleased. Paper lanterns were strung from one end of the hold to the other, providing a soft, indirect glow, and a lush and highly decorated carpet lay beneath the table. Conversation ranged from tales of exciting adventure to ingenious and daring repairs to the mundane occurrences of family life: children with new teeth, athletic accomplishments, first words, academic achievements, and potty training. Towards the end of the meal, Devon produced a fiddle, Heather got out a drum, Brian found his flute, and before long there was wild, impromptu dancing on the steel deck of the hold. “So you’re workin’ on a big job, y’say?” Duncan said as his children got up to dance. Wash and Zoe were already swaying dangerously, more or less to the beat. Book stood by, clapping enthusiastically as the children did a simple frontier dance. River seemed to be flouncing expertly across the deck with Tinker, and Kaylee and Simon were also dragging themselves to their feet. “That’s so,” Mal said, nodding. “But I’d rather not speak o’ the details. Not that I don’t trust you, mind . . .” “Oh, don’t be worryin’ ‘bout offending me, Mal,” Duncan murmured. “I know better than to ask for what could put me an’ mine in jeopardy. It’s just good to see you workin’.” He paused, as if searching his mind for something. “I heard tell of a ship what looted a hospital on Ariel, been sellin’ medicines all o’er the Rim. Also heard tell of a ship whose crew damn near killed Nasty Niska. Fact is, heard tell of an awful lot, lately. Maybe too much for an honest smuggler to bear, ‘specially,” he said, nodding toward where River was wildly dancing with Tinker, “if that smuggler’s got somethin’ t’hide from the Feds.” “Well, Duncan,” Mal said, taking another bao with his chopsticks, “Sometimes the best place to hide a thing is in plain sight. Feds probably suspect that the Tams are layin’ low on some border world. Why would such wanted folks stay in the company of a gang o’ desperate outlaws?” “Makes me nervous for you, m’boy, is all,” Duncan said, sighing and belching. “Though I can’t fault your skills. ‘Sides, must be nice, havin’ a physicker on board, line o’ work you’re in.” “Come in handy,” agreed Mal. “Enough ‘bout us, though: what’s been happening this last year? You say you done taken up a regular route?” “Semi-regular,” corrected Duncan, taking an enormous swig of rice wine. “Stop at Persephone an’ pick up some trade goods – everythin’ from stoves to sailboats. From there we hit Vesta, where they finally got them silkworms workin’ for ‘em; load up with raw silk, then we head to Beaumont, where they got the factories. Pick up a load o’ finished silk, go back to Persephone. Make a decent margin each way.” “And,” asked Inara delicately, “How much smuggling do you do to supplement those margins?” Duncan burst out laughing. “Oh, I keep my hand in, truth to tell. Nothin’ noxious, mind. Don’t want to attract too much ‘tention. But Badger on Persephone usually has a small load bound for one o’ the other two. Sometimes we make a special trip, pop over to one o’ the other worlds, just to keep things from getting’ boring.” “If your dealin’ with Badger, life shouldn’t be what I’d call boring,” observed Mal. He was still wary of the underworld hoodlum. That wouldn’t keep him from dealing with him, but he was wary. “What, he ain’t honest?” Duncan asked suspiciously. “Oh, he’s honest,” agreed Mal. “You just gotta watch him.” That broke Duncan up into fits of hearty laughter. “I done took three loads for him, two to Vesta, one to Beaumont. He paid in cash, up front, and never gave me a problem. He gives me a problem, I sic my kids on ‘em.” “That doesn’t sound like much of a threat,” Inara said, doubtfully. “You haven’t babysat in a while, have you? For nine rambunctious McKlintock kids? The younger they are, the more cussed they are. Older they are, more deadly they are. Tinker ‘n’ Rowan, now, both could hit a man in the head from fifty paces – with a pistol, mind, not a rifle. Brian ‘n’ Heather – ain’t she a cutie? That’s ’Thea’s kid, the one with freckles – they do almost as well. And I done taught all of ‘em every dirty trick I ever learned, thought of, or heard tell of. This is a rough business, gotta make sure the next generation knows how to do it. Never know the day you take the Long Walk, like my Daddy did, rest his soul.” “If I might ask, Duncan,” Inara said politely, after sipping her wine, “How did you manage to find two incredibly beautiful, incredibly intelligent women to marry you, while your brother has yet to find one?” “Devon? Oh, he’s a life-long bachelor – married to the pilot’s chair, that one. Oh, I don’t doubt his head will turn someday, but it’d take one special woman to land him. As far as I’m concerned,” he turned and shouted down the table, “Wives! Care to explain to these good folk why you done consented to be my brides?” The two women, obviously close friends as well as co-wives, looked at each other for a split second, then turned back to Duncan. “The money,” they said in unison. Then they turned back to their individual conversations. That made the whole table laugh uproariously, and even threatened to bring the dancing to an end – hard to keep a tune going when your fiddler is bent double with laughter. It was readily apparent that while the Sky Hawk was, no doubt, worth some cash, neither she nor everything within was worth any significant amount. “They’s just teasin’,” admitted Duncan as the laughter died down and the fiddling resumed. “We do all right – but nine kids and two wives and a ship, well, they all take a bit o’ coin to support. We bring in a bunch, but we see a bunch go out in turn. You know what they say about a spaceship,” he said, eyeing Mal meaningfully. “Yeah, it’s a hole in space you pour money into,” Mal agreed emphatically. “But we do alright, I ‘spose. Make a little more every year. But it’s not the coin. It ain’t wealth I seek, ‘tis the prosperity. Gotta keep flyin’.” He looked at his singing, dancing, clapping children, his two lovely wives. His eyes got a little teary – no doubt from the alcohol. “I got all the riches in the ‘verse, I do. Ain’t a man alive, Core to Rim, whats got more’n I got, right here in this hold. All the riches in the ‘verse.”

*

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*

Kaylee had had perhaps a few too many drinks, in Simon’s professional opinion. She seemed oddly intense, for some reason, and suddenly possessively clingy. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why. The McKlintocks, perhaps? It was the only reason he could see. He tried to make the best of it. “I suppose I can see the allure of a big family,” he said, off-handedly between dances. It took him a while to figure out why Kaylee insisted on dancing so frequently – and so vigorously: Rowan McKlintock, who seemed (even to his inexperienced eye) to be giving him more attention than he warranted as a simple visitor. Kaylee was also a little catty about River, which really surprised him. Were they not the best of friends? Women. He knew how they worked from the inside out. He’d never know what made them tick. “Yeah, see, five ain’t nothin’ compared t’nine!” Kaylee said enthusiastically. “But a big family, you ain’t got much privacy, but you always got someone t’ talk to!” “I can see that, yes,” Simon agreed absently. “This is all very . . . folksy. Nothing like the parties back home.” “What were they like?” Kaylee asked, her eyes focused on him in a way that made him a little uncomfortable. “On Osiris? Oh, the usual. People would send out invitations, have clothes made, hire just the right caterer and just the right band, a few geishas, valet parking, and then spend the entire evening standing around drinking miserably, talking go se about how much they hated everyone else in the room. Then they complain bitterly about what a colossal bore it was, how they never want to go to another one, then they start to plan the next one. Kind of pathetic, really.” “Kinda like that shindig on Persephone, where Mal got all duelly.” “Yes, I suppose it was. But never that colorful. There hasn’t been a real duel on Osiris in decades. Truthfully, the parties in the Core – at least among my people – were horrendously boring. I never even knew that people celebrated like this until . . .” “Until you found Serenity,” Kaylee finished. “Until I found Serenity.” “And me,” Kaylee said, a tiny little hopeful note in her voice. “Never partied like this ‘till I met you, it’s true!” Simon declared, a little too enthusiastically. “I didn’t even know you could use ‘party’ as a verb!” “You, uh,” Kaylee began, putting her head on Simon’s shoulder, “you wanna go see their observation lounge?” “Why would I— oh. Oh! Uh, yes, yes, that would be nice. Never been on a . . . a barge before, should really check it out, I suppose. Complete my education.” He downed his wine in a gulp, sputtered a little, then let Kaylee pull him up. They were just starting to stroll, arm in arm, towards a hatch when something bothered him. He turned back to the table. “Uh, where’s River?” *

*

*

“You want to go for a walk?” Tinker asked River, fifteen minutes earlier. He was a shy boy, when it came to girls, but as his experiences were limited to the occasional groundings on Rim-worlds and even more occasional meetings with spacer girls, he had already learned to move quickly. River found his decisiveness refreshing and his dancing enthusiastic, if not technically proficient. “For what, the ruttin’ exercise?” she asked, her chest heaving with the exertion of dancing. “No, silly, for the view,” he said, cocking his head to the side. “You got a spacesuit?” That was one invitation River had a hard time ignoring. She nodded silently. “Then go an’ get it, meet me by the forward lock,” Tinker said. “We can go out and see some sights.” “I’ll be there within the next six minute, fifty seconds,” River said, springing to her feet. “Don’t keep me waiting.” “Daddy says it ain’t polite to keep a lady waitin’. I’ll be there, ma shong. See you there!” As Tinker bent to tell his mom what they were doing, River bounded out of the hatch and ran down to the airlock Serenity was docked at. She leapt inside and grabbed her suit, checked the tanks to ensure they were full, did an abbreviated but thorough equipment check, and was standing, dressed except for her helmet, at the forward lock when Tinker padded up, still pulling his suit on. “You kept me waiting,” River said, simply. “I didn’t think you were quite a lady, just yet,” he grinned, pulling on his left gauntlet. They did a second check of their suits before sealing up and stepping through the lock. “Guy line,” Tinker said, snapping a long nylon rope to his belt and the other end to a loop of metal near the lock. He added a second line from his belt to River’s. “T’ keep you from getting’ away from me. Daddy says a rope’s almost as good as a thick wad o’cash for keepin’ a woman tied to you.” “You certainly talk a lot about your dad,” River said, enviously. “My father and I – it’s been so long. And I haven’t called him ‘daddy’ since I was four. It’s always been ‘Father’.” The lock finished cycling, and a green light flashed as the outer door opened into the Big Room. River took a deep and giddy breath, then leapt straight out into the Black. “Hey, now, you wait a— whoa!” cried Tinker, who had been taught by his parents to be extra cautious during EVA. “Lao-tyen boo!” he cried. He never would have gone leaping out of an airlock like that, even with a guy line. As he was tied to her, he had no choice but to follow. But he grabbed a stanchion just outside the airlock and held it tightly, halting River’s ascent. “Shiong-muh duh duang-ren!” “Whoa!” she shouted. “Hey, I was enjoying that! Twinkle twinkle little River!” she sang. She laughed gamely and began spinning on the axis that was her line. “I just – tryin’ to be gorram safe—” Tinker said through gritted teeth. Then he relaxed a little. He was with a girl, after all. “Come on, slow pokage!” River urged. “Just push with your feet! Force equals mass times acceleration!” “Okay,” Tinker agreed hesitantly. He had never done something this foolhardy in his life. He ensured the guy line connection was strong, made sure for the third time that he had his emergency air supply and maneuvering jets, and he jumped . . . . . . to be caught in River’s gauntleted hands, and then brought face to face with her chestplate. “You sure this is a good idea?” he asked doubtfully. “We might get into trouble.” Boys! thought River disgustedly. “We are all alone in the ‘verse, now,” she said, dreamily. “Just you and me and the Black.” “Well, there is that ruttin’ big planet right there,” he said, pointing to the unnamed jovian giant. It was in the process of coming apart under the gravity of the star that was temporarily obscured from their view by the ships. The intense electromagnetic buzz that resulted was enough to damp out any long-range detection of the ships. None of the moons would survive the next thousand years, so none were permitted to be terraformed. “It’s lovely,” River said, her eyes cutting to it. “A big orange flower in space. A big Christmas pudding. They took Christmas from me, you know.” “What?” asked Tinker. “The hands of blue. They stole all my Christmases away. I guess they didn’t have any of their own. I remember only a few things. Christmas trees, mostly, and ornaments. But few presents. I’ll never forgive them for that. You don’t take Christmas away from a person. But this,” she said, gesturing toward the planet, “is my Christmas ornament.” Tinker cocked his head as much as his helmet would allow. “You sure your oxy is all right, River? Sounds like it might be a tad high . . .” “I’m not suffering from hypoxia,” River explained with an exaggerated sigh, “I’m just crazy.” “You’re . . . what?” “Crazy. And I’ll tell you a little about it. But not with your mom listening in.” “What do you mean?” he asked, suddenly uncomfortable. “I mean your mother is listening into our conversation. The signal booster on your communication tower lit up the moment we opened the lock. To cut through the interference from the planet. So your mother could keep tabs on you, listen to what you were saying over the wireless.” “You . . . she . . . I . . . Mom?” he asked, tagging his radio. “Yes, precious boy?” came the maternal answer. “Shu ma nyaow! You listening in?” “Language, boy. Every word.” “You done this before?” “Every time you take a girl out the lock with you.” Tinker looked confounded, then guilty. “I ain’t done that but this once.” “That you think I know about.” “You mean . . . ?” “Beverly Chaio? Heard every word.” “Mo-om! Tai-kong suo-yo duh shing-chiouh doh sai-jin wuh duh pee-goo!” he complained, with the exaggerated note of disgust every teenager everywhere in the ‘verse learns. “Ain’t a man got no ruttin’ privacy on this gorram boat?” “You ain’t a man yet. And I’m still your mother. And watch your gorram language!” “Mrs. McKlintock?” River said, staring into Tinker’s faceplate. “Yes, dear?” “Hope you don’t mind, but in the interest of privacy, we’re going to turn off our suit radios for a little while. We’ll still leave the suit transponders on, though. And we’re well and truly tied on.” “Well . . . how you gonna talk to each other without radios?” the mother asked suspiciously. “We’re going to put our helmets together, talk that way.” “Well . . . all right, I suppose. But if you were my daughter, River, I’d have to thrash you for bustin’ up my perfectly good piece o’ matronly spyin’. I like to keep track of my boy’s courtin’ and sparkin’.” River turned her radio off, and waited for Tinker to do likewise. Then she pressed her faceplate up against his, so they were nose to nose. The vibrations of her voice conducted through the solid surface of the helmets, resulting in a slightly distant but still perfectly adequate method of communication. “Huh, courtin’ an’ sparkin’, indeed!” Tinker was sputtering. “I’ll show that . . . don’t she know I’m a grown . . .” ‘You gonna shut up and listen while I tell you the intimate details of my psychosis?” River demanded. “Uh, sure,” the boy said doubtfully. “Okay. Why I’m Crazy, By River Tam. Let’s start with my amygdula . . .”

*

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*

“You let River do what?” Simon asked, incredulously. “She’s just takin’ a walk outside with m’boy,” Althea McKlintock said casually. “A walk? Outside? In the cold, merciless vacuum of space? With a fifteen year old boy?” he sputtered. “From what Mal said, River’s a grown woman, all o’ seventeen. And Tinker’s two months past his sixteenth birthday. Neither you nor I got a right t’stop ‘em.” She said, a little defiantly. “An’ they are wearin’ spacesuits – ain’t like there’s gonna be a big belly come from this or nothin’. ‘Course, River is a lovely girl, would make me a fine daughter-in-law. Pretty grandbabies,” she assured Kaylee. “Mrs. McKlintock, I assure you, it isn’t your son I’m worried about,” he said, taking a sharp breath. “Why? ‘Cause your sister is crazy?” Althea asked directly. “Well . . . uh . . . yes, yes, that’s exactly it. River has been horribly scarred by—” “I know that, son,” Althea McKlintock said gently. “And your ruttin’ over-protectedness does you powerful credit – you’re as good a big brother as she could ask for. But I done looked into River’s eyes, I did. An’ I saw . . . I saw a lot. I saw the damage to her – someone should pay for the gorram violence they done her mind – but I also saw her soul. Your sister, she got a pretty soul, a pure soul, despite what them that’s done it has done to her. She might be crazy,” she said, folding her arms, “but I’d rather see my boy courtin’ a crazy girl with a good soul than some crafty ranch slut what thinks she can get to his prosperous legacy through the flies of his britches.” “Well, if you’re sure . . .” Simon said, doubtfully. “Got ‘em on the wireless, right here, ‘case there’s any trouble,” she said evenly, holding up a radio. “Just spoke with ‘em, too. Everythin’s five by five.” “River’s done plenty o’ EVAs, Simon,” Kaylee reminded him. “Loads more’n you. And Tinker, you couldn’t ask for a more . . . respectable boy. He won’t do nothin’ or touch nothin’ that River don’t want him to touch.” “But . . . she’s my sister!” “And a grown woman,” reminded Kaylee. “Don’t worry, Althea, I’ll take care of Simon. You just keep an ear up for the kids, is all.” She tugged at his sleeve until he came along, protesting, towards the hatch they had originally headed for. “But . . . she’s my sister!” “And she’s seventeen! You don’t think puberty done set in, Simon? It’s got as powerful effect on women as it does on menfolk. We just ain’t quite as stupid ‘bout it— most of us,” she amended, thinking back to when she was seventeen herself. Some things should not be spoken of. “I just don’t think it’s right that she be exposed to this kind of . . . intimacy when she’s only been out of a secret government lab for a few months!” “Well, kinda hard to meet many fellas, then, life we lead. C’mon, Simon, this ain’t got nothin’ t’do with River’s head, and you know it. She’s your sister—” “Yes, I think I mentioned that!” “And she’s just doin’ a little friendly courtin’. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that – you might wanna try it yourself, some day,” she said meaningfully, pulling him into the observation lounge. Whereas the observation viewports on Serenity were cozy affairs, the window to the Black that the Sky Hawk sported was huge, at least five meters across and three meters high. It curved gracefully up the side of the ship, and the blast shutters were swung well out of the view, revealing an impressive starscape, the jovian planet’s escaping atmosphere providing a misty quality that made it an inherently romantic view. Kaylee pulled Simon down on an over-stuffed and very battered couch facing the viewport. “Ain’t it beautiful?” she asked, holding his hand and putting her head on his shoulder. “Why yes, yes it is,” he agreed, letting some of the tension drain from his body. “I’m usually so torqued up about gettin’ Serenity through it, sometimes I forget how pretty the Black can be. It’s kinda nice, don’tcha think, just sittin’ here and . . . just . . . bein’?” “Yes, I think . . .” tossing away the last of the Responsible Doctor Simon Tam and just becoming Simon for a moment, he pulled Kaylee a little closer to him. She snuggled down pleasantly, and heaved a big sigh. “I think it’s powerful nice,” he said, affecting a frontier accent. They stayed like that for a while, Simon absently rubbing Kaylee’s shoulder, doing his fair share of sighing himself. She could feel him start to lean in, sag, almost. She pressed back against him, tentatively, at first, then more insistently. The pressure of his hand on her arm increased slightly. He looked down at her. She looked up at him, looked him dead in the eyes, saw the thousands of stars reflected therein. She leaned just a little closer, waited for him to match her, leaned a little more, almost there . . . Whack! The noise was so loud and so sudden that Simon jumped, spilling Kaylee half-off the couch. “Tian xiz shou you de ren dou gai si!” he swore. Kaylee looked up to see, just outside the viewport, the spacesuited figure of River pressing her faceplate up against the glass. Her internal helmet lights were on. She was sticking out her tongue and crossing her eyes. Trailing off behind her was a line, attached to which was the flailing figure of Tinker. “Yep,” Simon said, sighing with resignation as he helped Kaylee to her feet. “She’s definitely my little sister.”