The Treasure of Lei Fong Wu

Chapter Ten

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The shuttle set down into the cradle with barely a thump – not the metallic clang that was often the hallmark of Mal’s flying – and after Serenity hauled it into its nest, there was the satisfying sound of the airlock hissing as it equalized pressure. Moments later the door swung open, and for the first time in nearly a week they were home again. “Oh, I am so glad to be back,” Kaylee said joyfully as she pulled her bag (and all the other bags she had acquired) through the lock. “I’m gonna stow my junk, then check out what they’ve done to my baby.” “You do that,” Jayne muttered, his own bag slung over his shoulder. “Me, I’m gonna get some chow.” “Didn’t you eat before we left?” Zoe asked, incredulously. “That was a pretty shiny buffet, back there.” “Don’t often like to eat afore I fly in atmo,” the mercenary said. “Gives me the squeesies. ’Sides, all that rich food – it stops up my plumbin’ after a while. And that makes me cranky.” “Even as a seasoned medical professional, I’m completely disgusted by that,” Simon said, shaking his head. “When’s Inara due back, anyway?” Kaylee asked as she started towards her bunk. “She should be here within the hour,” Book answered, sniffing the air. “It does indeed feel good to be back here.” “I need a vacation from my vacation,” Wash said, yawning widely. “I’m all tired out, and now I gotta go to ruttin’ work.” “That all depends on where we’re goin’,” Zoe pointed out. “You got a notion, Captain?” “I do,” Mal said. “Wash, you go heat up the board. I’ll discuss it when we get settled.” *

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“I’m thinkin’ some grits might be good,” Jayne was saying to Zoe as they headed for the kitchen. “Grits is just the thing to—” He stopped, and sniffed. “You smell that?” he asked suspiciously. “I surely do,” Zoe said softly. “Smells like . . .” “Breakfast,” agreed Jayne. “But ain’t s’posed t’be no one here to make breakfast.” He drew his revolver, which he had immediately strapped on when he dumped his stuff on his bunk. He felt naked without it. Zoe followed suit, hefting her favorite side-arm – a sawed-off lever action shotgun – to the ready, then nodding. Jayne nodded back, then advanced down the corridor. He ran the last three steps, Zoe at his heels, until they burst into the kitchen. A moment later he called out to the Captain. “Mal,” he shouted, never taking his eye or his gun off his target. “Why’s there a Chinese boy eatin’ pancakes in our kitchen?” He heard the footsteps of the Captain approach calmly behind him. “’Cause the waffle iron was broke,” he said, casually, taking a seat at the table. “Oh,” said Jayne, confused. “Folks, I want to introduce Mr. Lei Chin Yi,” he said, indicating the young Sinic man who was, indeed, plowing through a tall stack of pancakes and plum syrup with determination. The boy half rose, gave a casual bow, and extended his hand with a smile. “Call me Johnny,” he said. “Johnny Lei. Thanks for having me.” “Didn’t realize we did have you,” Jayne said, confused. “Sir?” Zoe asked. She didn’t need to add anything else. “Everythin’s shiny, kids. We’ll discuss the details once the Ambassador is aboard,” Mal assured. “But the bones of it is that Johnny here is hirin’ us for a job.” “Honest?” Jayne asked, still confused. “Not really,” Johnny said with a boyish grin. “Put the firearms back in their cots, please, ladies,” Mal said. “We ain’t got paid but half our fee yet.” “’Scuse me if I appear confounded,” Jayne growled, holstering his gun, “but I don’t rightly recall takin’ another job.” “Escapes my mind, as well,” Zoe said, evenly, as she did the same. “This one was my idea,” Mal said cheerfully. “And I had to keep it twixt my ears ‘till we were all sealed up. My reasons will become crystal as soon as ‘Nara’s back on board and we can all sit down and have a little chin-wag.” “This have anything to do with those four corpses in the hotel?” Zoe asked. “Might could,” Mal admitted. “Corpses?” asked Johnny, eyebrows raised. “When Inara is back,” reminded Mal. “In the meantime, how bout you make some more flapjacks, Jayne, since you were all fired up about breakfast.” It was a half an hour before Wash reported that Inara’s shuttle had docked, upon which Mal had him disengage from the station and start a slow, steady course out into the Black, no place in particular. In the meanwhile, he introduced Johnny to the rest of the crew. He was a friendly kid, and took to everyone pretty well – even Jayne, after the mercenary had a chance to adjust. He seemed particularly intrigued by River, which caused Simon some uncomfortable moments. “Now that we’re underway and reasonably fed, let’s go ahead and dispel some o’ this confoundedness that’s overcome most of y’all,” Mal said, once everyone was safely in the kitchen. “First, Mr. Lei here is a member of that Tong what tried to kill me the other night.” “I’m retired, actually,” the boy grinned. “They didn’t like me retiring. I don’t know how they tracked me to you folks, but I guess I didn’t cover my tracks nearly well enough, and for that I am deeply sorrowful. Didn’t mean to disturb your vacation.” “Retired?” asked Book. “You look awful young to be retired, young man.” “My father used to be the old Tong boss,” Johnny explained. “When he died, his enemies went after me. I took what I could and ran. I’ve got larger issues to deal with than the Yellow Ribbons.” “Larger than a Tong Death Squad?” Zoe asked incredulously. “Yep,” Johnny assured. “I can’t wait to hear this,” she replied, taking a seat. “Go ahead, son,” Mal said. “Speak your piece. Tell ‘em what you told me.” The boy heaved a big sigh. “Okay. Let’s start with who I am.” “I thought you was Johnny?” Jayne said. “You ain’t?” “I am. But that’s not all I am. My father, and his father, and me, we are all lineally descended from the last sovereign Emperor of Yuan.” “Yeah,” sneered Jayne, “and I’m the Stone Monkey King!” “You know,” Simon said in a stage whisper, “that might just explain a lot!” “I am,” Johnny assured. “Not that it hasn’t brought me anything but trouble. But to explain everything, I have to go through a bit of history, my own and the ‘verse’s, otherwise I’ll seem like I’m full of fe hua.” “Oh, good,” Wash said, rubbing his hands together enthusiastically. “Story time!” “So get yourselves a beverage, find a comfortable spot, and listen up,” Johnny continued. “Let’s start with the planet Yuan. Anyone remember how it got there?” Inara cleared her throat politely, then spoke. “If I recall correctly, after Sinhon was founded, a large group of ethnic Chinese wanted a world not dominated by the Buddhist religion – among Han traditionalists it is still considered a ‘foreign’ religion. So they terraformed the world of Yuan, and later its moon, T’ien, and set up a government based more firmly on the ancient Confucian/Taoist model, in an attempt to keep ‘foreign’ influences of Buddhism, Christianity, Shinto and Islam out of the government.” “Essentially correct,” agreed Johnny, bowing to her. “The first two centuries were relatively peaceful, and the Emperor – elected by the Ministers from an ancient, proud Han family, ruled fairly successfully. Until the nasty little war between Yuan and Xiao, when in the confusion the Tyrant, Shang Yu, killed the old Emperor and came to power.” “Familiar with him,” Book said, nodded. “Nasty piece of work.” “He killed millions,” agreed Johnny. “On Yuan, and T’ien, Xiao, Wuhan, and any other moon he felt like. Built a huge armada, a huge army, and terrorized the people badly. It was largely because of Shang Yu that the original Sino-Anglo Pact came to be, the predecessor to the Alliance.” “Remind me to look him up in the afterlife and thank him for that,” Mal said. “Shh! You’re gonna be a possum, remember?” Zoe said. “Anyway, after nearly twenty years of his rule, Shang Yu was deposed by his Prime Minister, Lei Fong Wu, my honorable ancestor. He was elected Emperor by the Imperial Council, and reigned over a peaceful and prosperous empire. He joined the Pact, reformed the government, reduced the size of the fleet and the army, funded three new terraforming projects, and was about as great a leader as anything in the ancient Middle Kingdom. People said that he was the reincarnation of the greatest T’ang Emperors, and his domain was a model of peace and prosperity.” “And then . . . ?” Wash asked. “There’s always a ‘and then. . . ?’, isn’t there?” “Yep. And then he had four sons, one by each of his wives.” “Four wives?” asked Wash incredulously, “was the man insane?” This earned him a smack from his own bride. “Four sons. He chose from among them his successor, and for the other three he entrusted to them a legacy. “You see, after he deposed the Tyrant, Lei Fong Wu had an embarrassment of riches. All the goods confiscated by the Tyrant from the families he executed, war loot from Xiao and Oleander, treasure seized by his commerce raiders – it was a sizable fortune. He spent what he needed to right the Empire, and returned much of the historical treasures to Xiao, but there was still too much to just dump it into the economy. So he hid it.” “Hid it?” several voices said at once. “Exactly. He considered it his private family legacy.” The boy shrugged. “Who am I to question an Emperor? In any case, he wanted to ensure that it was at the disposal of his House, should times get tough. So he hid it – somewhere – and had the location and instructions for retrieving it encoded and split into three separate pieces – which he then granted to his other, non-Emperor sons. The idea was that it would take a crisis affecting the whole family to bring them together in order to retrieve it – nothing less would do.” “As you ain’t an Emperor,” Zoe pointed out, “I’m guessin’ that the plan broke down somewheres.” “The Lei family was overthrown about forty five years ago,” Inara said. “It was technically a revolution, but it was a fairly peaceful transition of power, from the Imperial family to a kind of soviet of bureaucrats. They instituted a constitutional democracy – which then ran the economy into the ground. The Lei’s tried to take power again when it looked like civil war was eminent, but then the Alliance sent General Dortmunder in with an occupation force and restored order.” “They like to do that,” Mal said. “Makes ‘em feel all warm and fuzzy inside.” “I’ve noticed that,” agreed Lei. “And that’s why I’m here – or we’re here, actually. The four lines of descent from the first Imperial Lei were scattered, physically, as well as politically. The last Emperor died without issue. His cousin, the next in line of succession, tried briefly to claim the Amber Phoenix Throne during the occupation, but he was arrested by the new regime, his followers gathered up, and they were sold into slavery to a horrible terraforming project out on the Rim – my home, your vacation wonderland, Epiphany. “The third Lei line continued in the new government and did quite well in business, at first. When the preferential treatment they were used to in business deals started to dry up, they made a fuss and were exiled to Wuhan. “The fourth line was the more militant one – the brother who founded that line was the head of Imperial Intelligence – and ended up moving from intelligence into crime. They founded the Yellow Sash Tong on Yuan, and became a powerful underworld force in the old Empire.” “I think I see where this is going,” Simon said. “You want to get the pieces of the . . . I suppose ‘map’ is the proper term, and you want us to help.” “Each of the pieces to the map were put into three boxes. Here,” he said, placing his box on the table, “is my line’s.” “Ooh, pretty!” Kaylee exclaimed. “Exquisite,” Inara added. “In the Yichun style, I believe.” “That’s a mighty shiny box,” Jayne said. “Thanks. But it’s what’s inside that’s special.” He opened the box and took out a data store with a smooth yellow lacquered case. “This contains every third bit of the map. By itself – completely useless. Combined with the other three, we get a map.” “Map o’ where?” Zoe asked. “What world?”Johnny shrugged. “Only my ancestor knows. Believe me, there has been speculation about this since his time. Many believe it’s on Wuhan, or T’ien, or even Yuan. In fact, there are whole societies devoted to finding it based on clues he leaked about it. On Wuhan it’s become a minor industry. But those are all false trails. The fact is, no one really knows, and the only chance anyone has is with the three boxes.” “So where are the other two?” Kaylee asked. “I’ve got good leads on both. I’m fairly certain one is on Wuhan. But I think it’s in an old temple that the Alliance has turned into a museum, which means we’ll have to steal it. Um, is that a problem for you folks?” he asked, hesitantly, looking at the Shepherd. “I’m going to speculate that the rest of these folk won’t have any issues with thieving,” Book said, smiling kindly. “I don’t think I can officially condone that sort of thing – it is, technically, against the rules – but I’m not one to stand between a man and his craft. Seems to me that this would be more a case of repatriation than outright theft, on the one hand.” He considered a moment. “But just to cover the bases, let me say right now that thieving is a grievous sin, you all should be ashamed, and any one of you is welcome to seek forgiveness from the Lord and confess your sinful natures whenever your conscience drives you to do so. That being said, this looks like quite an interesting adventure.” “What about the other box?” Wash asked. “It wouldn’t be, by any chance, in . . . well, hell, we just left ruttin’ tropical paradise. It wouldn’t be in a ski resort, would it?” Johnny smiled. “No, I’m afraid not. But I have some coordinates.” “Coordinates?” “Yes, the third box might be a little more challenging. To explain, I have to talk more history.” “Damn! I was just wakin’ up, too,” Jayne swore. “I’ll try to be brief. Remember my relatives who were in military intelligence? Well, about fifteen years ago they became completely frustrated, and joined forces with my other relatives, the Wuhan exiles, in a plot to restore the Throne.” “The Imperial Faction!” Inara said, shocked. “That’s my kin,” Johnny agreed, his smile not without a certain amount of irony in it. “I don’t comprehend,” Kaylee said, confused. “Who the hell are the Imperial Faction?” “We Independents weren’t the only faction fighting the war,” Zoe explained. “We were just the biggest and meanest. Truth, Alliance pissed off a lotta folks way back. Us on the Rim, we didn’t want them meddling in our affairs, but we wasn’t alone with that.” “The Imperials wanted a return to the old system, based on the traditional Chinese Confucian system – the restoration of the Emperor, the return of planetary sovereignty,” added Simon. “We were taught that they were atavistic dictators who had only their own aggrandizement in mind, not the good of the people.” “Which wasn’t necessarily true,” Inara said. “The old Imperial system had its flaws, but it had six thousand years of evolution to refine it into a workable program, when properly applied. When run as a constitutional monarchy, it can be quite benign. But it has . . . loopholes that occasionally allow for shen jing bing like Shang Yu to come to power. And, it rejects the idea of a higher sovereign power than the Emperor.” “And . . . the Independents worked with these guys?” Jayne asked. “I thought y’all were about freedom and rainbows and puppy dogs and such?” “We didn’t have a lot of choice,” Mal added. “Back in the war, we took help where we could. We worked with a lot of factions, tryin’ to stack purplebellies up like firewood. They always made more, though.” “The Imperials were never particularly active on the Rim,” Inara said. “If I recall, their influence was confined to Yuan, Wuhan, T’ien, and a considerable movement on Xian and a couple of small moons. There were even supporters of the faction on Sinhon – though all they did was drink and riot, occasionally.” “They mostly traded with the Browncoats,” admitted Lei. “Their revolution took Wuhan and T’ien pretty quickly, and even held Yuan for six months or so before being thrown back. They besieged Yuan after that, and tried to get the Independents to send a relief force. In exchange, they used the factories to churn out war material, and slipped it out to the Rim in blockade runners.” “I used a Yutan Dragon assault rifle towards the end of the war,” Zoe recalled. “Nice gun, that.” “And that’s where our Angel 88 fighter-bombers came from, too, if I ain’t mistaken, and what armored rollers we had that weren’t former purplebelly issue” Mal added. “Coulda used more of both, though.” “A lot of junk went out, but the Independents never sent a major relief force – just some special forces troops and intelligence officers. In the end, the Alliance broke the siege, occupied the moons, and tried the Emperor for war crimes. He died in prison before the war ended.” Johnny sighed. “His supporters, the die-hards who would not live under the new regime – or that the Alliance worried would continue to start trouble – were sent into exile. No comfy terraforming projects this time. They sent them—” “Let’s just concentrate on one crime at a time,” Mal interrupted. “We’re gonna start with Wuhan.” “Mal, that’s in the Core!” Wash warned. “You know, where some of us are wanted fugitives with really high prices on our head?” “I can’t say I’m comfortable with that,” Simon said, uneasily. “I’ve gone to a lot of trouble to keep River out of view –” “Keep your garters on, Doc,” Mal said evenly. “Even I ain’t stupid enough to bring you and loony over there that deep into the Core. We will get stopped by purplebellies, ain’t no doubt about that, if we strike that deep. Last couple o’ times we even hit the outer parts, we caused a ruckus. I ain’t lookin’ for a ruckus. I’m lookin’ to steal this piece o’ pretty and slip away quiet. Ain’t no treasure in jail. I know. I checked.” “So what are you going to do? I can’t wait to hear this,” Simon said, discouraged. “Don’t worry,” Mal soothed. “I’m working on it.” “I share your concern,” Johnny said. “I, too, am wanted by the Alliance. They only know my Tong name, though, not my legitimate ID. I’ve had a fairly extensive career in crime – including one little incident involving a Prefect who claimed he was kidnapped. He was really just on a binge in a whorehouse my father owned. My father asked me and my men to watch him, keep him from getting robbed or killed. When Security finally came looking for him, he claimed we had kidnapped him, swore out a warrant. There might be others. So I don’t want any trouble with the Alliance, either.” “Ain’t that grand?” Zoe asked, with disgust. “Wait – you got men?” Jayne asked. “What’s your Tong name?” asked Kaylee, with interest. “ ‘The Prince’,” he said with a trace of self-conscious embarrassment. “The Prince?” several people asked, amused. “Yes . . . not something I picked. I’ve been called that since I was a boy.” “You’re still a boy,” Jayne murmured. “So we both don’t want Feds up our butt and to the left,” Zoe acknowledged, trying to refocus the issue. “We got plenty of familiarity with sneakiness. What’s to guarantee that the box you’re lookin’ for is even on Wuhan? “I saw a picture of it, once,” Johnny admitted. “It was in a cortex piece about scenic places on Wuhan – a very short piece – and it showed some views of the interior of the museum. The box was part of the display, along with some other pretty junk from that period.” “Any of it worth anything?” asked Mal. “Might be. A couple of historically intriguing items, some semi-precious stuff. But this is not what you would call a great Core-world museum. It was originally a scenic winter palace for the Emperor. He donated it to some Tao Chiang monks just before he lost power. So this is a Taoist monastery up in the mountains. When my romantic-minded relatives decided to start a revolution, they used it as a base. After the war, the occupation governor didn’t let the monks get it back – they were ardent supporters of the Emperor – and so he turned it into a museum, one that almost no one goes to.” “Security?” asked Zoe. “From what I can tell, laughable or non-existent. It should be as simple as robbing a deserted warehouse. A couple of security guards, a few cameras, but nothing more. They just don’t keep anything particularly valuable there, and the nearest village is kilometers away.” “I’m startin’ to like this plan,” Jayne agreed. “So,” Mal said to the crew, “What do y’all think?” “Mind if we discuss this, uh, just the gang?” Wash asked, glancing at the boy. “Not at all. I need to use the can anyway. Take your time.” He got up and headed back towards the passenger dorms. When he was gone there was a murmur of voices as everyone had an opinion. Mal called for order, then looked around. “Book, ‘Nara, y’all ain’t technically ‘in the gang’, but I’d appreciate your thoughts.” “Seems like a nice kid,” Book said. “And his story rings true. The Imperials have always been a small, nasty thorn in the side of the Alliance. And the Treasure is legendary, too. Met a few folk in my time who were searching for it, though they didn’t have nearly the knowledge of the story as this kid does.” “And I think that a trip Core-ward would be good for business,” Inara admitted. “I got lucky with Mason, here on Epiphany—” “I’m sure you did!” gloated Mal. “Pig. I meant, I’d like some time to do some business myself, and Wuhan has a good enough field of potential clients I could do some work without having to get mud on my skirts.” “But what do you think of his story?” “He sounds legit,” Inara admitted. “The old Imperial families were lavishly wealthy, and the Tyrant was known for hoarding the loot of his political enemies. It could very well be out there.” “But how can we trust this kid?” Zoe says. “And why was he allowed to roam free on our boat for most of a week?” “I authorized that,” Mal said. “He needed a safe-house, on account o’ his former associates wanting him back real bad. So I let him stay in the passenger dorm. I locked everything but the kitchen down.” “And he could have flown away with the ship at any time,” Zoe pointed out. “Not without a core,” reminded Wash. “The only reason he had power at all was because of the umbilical with the station. And no shuttles,” he added. “That still allowed him the chance to go through our personal things,” Simon said, suspiciously. “I said I locked it down,” Mal repeated, a little more forcefully. “I left all my stuff up here too, don’t forget. He didn’t have any of the codes.” “Mal, he’s a seasoned criminal! He could have gotten around that! I still can’t believe you let a criminal wander around our home like that,” Simon said in a low tone of voice. “Anything could have happened.” “In point of fact, Doctor,” Mal said, evenly, “Exceptin’ Inara and the Shepherd, we’re all criminals here. And I ain’t real certain about Book, no offense,” “None taken,” Book said, grinning. He was aware how his mysterious past was the subject of gossip. He seemed to enjoy the speculation. “But it’s my boat, and I decide who comes and goes,” Mal continued. “And I took this boy’s measure, listened to his story, and decided to consider the job. We don’t take it, we drop him off at next port and be on our merry way. To wherever. But I ain’t rightly got another notion of a profitable venture right now, and when Johnny fell into my lap, I thought it was worthy of consideration. Was I wrong?” “Take sounds good – if it’s real. If it ain’t already been found,” Zoe said, just as evenly. “How much we get?” “Twenty percent,” Mal said. “Plus twenty thousand up front for fuel and such.” “That means my share is . . .” Jayne said, starting to figure. “I don’t know if I trust him,” Simon said. “Yes, he’s very polite, but that’s not necessarily an indicator of a man’s worth or veracity,” he said. “Obviously,” Mal said pointedly. The irony was not lost. “I like him,” Kaylee said. “Likability ain’t the proper question,” Zoe said. “The question is, why did you wait so gorram long to shed light on this caper? It’s like you don’t trust us.” “I trust you fine,” Mal replied, his eyes not leaving his first officer. “That ain’t the proper question. If Johnny got a posse on his ass, didn’t seem like a good idea to spread the word around that I had knowledge of him. So I didn’t say anything because of security. And I didn’t want to hump up y’all’s well-earned vacation.” “I’m not generally known for my loquacious ways,” Zoe replied. “You was in the war,” Mal shot back. “You know about security. ‘Need to know’, remember? When you was swilling fruity drinks and scamperin’ in your skimpies, didn’t seem like a secure or opportune moment to confide, is all.” “Mal, when we were in the war, you hated it when some gorram wise-ass officer pulled that ‘need to know’ fe hua on us. Got you well and truly pissed, honest, and I can tell you that at this moment I haven’t completely lost that dislike.” She looked pissed. Wash seemed to be enjoying this development more than was probably proper. “Zoe,” Mal said, “I’m somewhat surprised by your feelin’s on this. And a little hurt.” “And I’m a little hurt you didn’t trust me, gorram it,” she shot back. “There’s a way we can settle this,” Kaylee said, as alarmed by an argument between the Captain and Zoe as a five year old who gets upset when her parents argue. “We can ask River.” “River?” Book asked. “What –? Oh.” “Yeah, ask River,” Wash chimed in. “I’d appreciate her perspective.” “Would that settle this for y’all?” Mal asked, clearly irritated at Zoe’s objections. “Fine. River, what do you think ‘bout the Prince?” “He’s cute!” River said, a little more emphatically than she probably intended. When the rest of them continued to look, she realized the true nature of the question. “He speaks the truth. He’s who he says he is. The halfling hates him, wants him dead. He’s really on the run. He runs good, nice muscular thighs when he stoops to shag a ball. He has this playboy thing workin’. He’s the Prince. The Tortoise chases him. The Blue Bomber defends him. He aspires to glory. And he has really nice eyes,” she finished. Wash looked around. “Okay . . . River says he’s okay, and finds favor with his muscular thighs and his shagging ability. Other than that, I don’t know what the hell she said.” “The boy checks out,” Mal insisted. “I did some subtle investigation on him – not enough to cause a stir, but he is who he says he is.” “So four corpses and a firefight in a four star hotel ain’t much of a stir?” asked Zoe, indignantly. “Hey, I thought I was bein’ subtle!” “No doubt,” Simon said dryly. “Look, anyone else got a notion ‘bout where we should fly to next?” he retorted. “Anyone else got a notion about where the next job comes from?” “Seems to me we ain’t got much need of a new job,” Zoe said bitterly. “We got coin aplenty, even after that expensive holiday.” “Y’all do,” Mal said. “I just coughed up a prelate’s ransom to put a shiny new core into this bucket, and I need the work. Hell, we all need to work. What else you got to do?” “I’m in,” Wash said. “I’ve heard Wuhan is the prettiest little arid wasteland of a core-world moon you’d ever want to see. And I did say I’d drive you anywhere,” he reminded. “Assuming you can come up with a workable way to keep River and me out of Fed custody, we’re in.” “Pretty eyes,” agreed River. “I second that,” Kaylee said. “He is awful darn cute.” “I’ve already given my approval,” Inara said. “Not that you ever needed it.” “Shepherd Book?” “It’s not the destination,” he shrugged. “It’s the journey.” “Jayne?” “Two percent!” he said triumphantly. Then he became puzzled again. “What’s two percent of a treasure?” “An awful lot,” Wash said. “About two and a half shitloads.” “Hell, yeah!” “I’ll take that as consent, in Jayne-language. Zoe?” She sighed, but had clearly not lost her indignation. “Sure. Why not. Let’s do this.” “I guess that settles it,” Mal said, knowing full well that things with Zoe were far from settled. “Kaylee, go check out your new plaything. Wash, set a course more or less for Wuhan. The rest of you, we start regular watches again. Apart from that, your time is your own.” “Two and a half shitloads,” Jayne gloated to himself. “I ain’t never had a payout that big my whole life!”