Chapter 5, short but sweet... in which our Big Damn Heroes find themselves in yet another apparently inescapable situation. When will they learn!

5

“Mal!” Inara said anxiously into the ‘com. “Mal, listen. River’s having one of her feelings – she says you’ve all got to get out, now. Something about it not being what you think. Mal, are you receiving this?” “Mal ain’t linked up, ‘Nara.” Zoe apparently was. Even under the signal’s distortion, her voice sounded strange: kind of rattled. “He’s takin’ a call.” “A call? From whom?” “Niska.” “Niska? Adelai Niska?” Inara exclaimed. Shaken, she stared at River, who was still gripping her head and keening softly. “Run-tse duh fwo-tzoo ching bao-yo wuomun… that explains it. What’s going on?” “Beats me,” came the reply. That was Jayne, with thunder in his voice. “Find out soon enough, I guess.” There was a clattering in the hallway and then Simon was there in the cockpit with them – arms encircling his sister’s shoulders, asking her to look at him, asking her what was the matter. He seemed almost more stricken than she. River met his worried gaze. “Someone’s been here before,” she said, nibbling on her lower lip. “Not real people – spiders. We’re flies, stuck in a web.” Seconds later, an unexpected sound reached their ears. The distant whirring of a closing airlock door.

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“And who can I see there with you?” The old man was in a comfortable office of some kind; he was seated in a high-backed chair, and there was a small plant just visible behind him. Above his head, the word TELEFONIX glowed on the handheld’s display. “Ah, of course, Mr Cobb, the mercenary, killer of many of my best staff. And Zoe Washburne, also – your loyal second, Mr Reynolds. I hear of her husband’s death. Such sad news, yes. Even more so that I did not get to kill him myself.” Mal glanced sidelong at Zoe and Jayne, who were crowded in beside him, starin’ at the screen, both of ‘em wearin’ the same disbelievin’ look. They couldn’t hear a gorram word, of course, but Mal was sure their imaginations were doin’ a fine job of fillin’ in the blanks. He still couldn’t swallow this. Of all the people in the ‘verse he’d never’ve expected to get a wave from, Adelai Niska came fairly high up the list. And it was a real extensive list, with all kinds of attachments and sub-groups. “But pleasantries: pah. They go on too long, and time is money, Mr Reynolds. We talk business now?” “What kinda business, you old tah-mah-duh hwoon-dan?” “Unfinished kind,” Niska said icily. The blue-tinted image flickered and skewed momentarily, as though mirroring the displeasure in his voice. “You damaged me, Mr Reynolds. My operation, my Skyplex; also my face. But worse than that – reputation. Is no longer solid. Things not as once they were. Trade, not good. You understand how this makes me feel. Adelai Niska can be touched, they say. Adelai Niska was made to look fool by Malcolm Reynolds, the great hero.” “No heroes out here,” Mal bristled. “Just ordinary folks, lookin’ out for one another. Not somethin’ you’d know anythin’ ‘bout.” “But heroes you have become, Mr Reynolds!” Niska said, suddenly chuckling genially. “We all hear stories of fearless Sergeant Malcolm Reynolds and his loyal crew. Champions of the Independent cause. Fighting Government single-handed, shining light of morality. As I understand, you are soon to lead glorious rebellion against Alliance! This notion amuses me greatly.” “Couldn’t say the same. Get to your gorram point, Niska.” “Ah, my point, yes. Forgive me, I talk and talk.” The old man leaned forward so that his whole face filled the screen. “Look around you, Mr Reynolds. What do you see?” “Shipful a’ junk.” “The vessel you have boarded is freighter called Decamerone. Is one of mine. An older model, I acquire cheaply. Alliance contracts out, you see. It wishes to dispose of ‘junk’ aboard my ship – I do this for them. I wish to dispose of ‘junk’ aboard my ship – I do this for me. It is a satisfactory arrangement, dong ma?” Oh, yeah, Mal thought, I understand just fine now. He felt like all kinds of an idiot for having walked straight into such a simple trap. Warnin’ signs shoulda been flashin’ like hell in his head soon as Ossie offered ‘em such a substantial take for a plain old smash an’ grab, but they’d been lost behind the glint of coin. No wonder Ossie’d called it his retirement fund – Niska would see that he was set for life for this day’s work. “You planned all this,” he said. “There never was a job. You used Ossie to get to me.” “Ah, Mr Chen, yes…” The lenses of Niska’s spectacles flashed as he nodded. “A particular fondness for money. He does the job I need him to do. This, I like, and so he will receive his due reward. Good business, you see.” Cursing Ossie inwardly for choosing a payday over their friendship, Mal said bitterly, “When I see that little jian hwoon-dan again, he’ll be gettin’ more’n a reward.” “But you cannot leave, Mr Reynolds! Do you not see? Nobody is leaving. Dock-and-lock is now sealed, as programmed. Cannot be released. The Decamerone has you trapped, Mr Reynolds – you, and your troublesome crew.” “My crew –” “Yes, my favourite piece of plan. How to deal with all at once? Then – boom, idea. Is complicated, yes, but somehow appropriate. I lose freighter, but small price to pay to settle this score.” Niska wore a self-satisfied smile. “Enjoy your brief stay on Decamerone, Mr Reynolds… Be assured it will give you fitting send-off.” He tapped an unseen button, and the wave disconnected. All remained on the handheld’s bright screen was the Blue Sun crest, and the words: TELOFONIX …A NEW WAY OF SEEING…, and then the device shut down, shrouding the three of them in silent, torch-lit gloom.

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“Can’t budge it.” Kaylee was covered in all kinds of grease and sweat as she emerged from the crawlspace. Inara was there to help her up onto the deck. “No power anywhere in the ‘lock. Whatever they did, they did it good. Sorry, Cap.” “All right, Kaylee. Good try.” Mal was broadcasting on an open channel, so that everyone could hear and contribute to the discussion. “What can you do with Serenity?” “Well, not a lot. We got power, and we can fire up okay, but not enough to break free. ‘Sides, even if we tried, all we’d do is rip our own ‘lock out and likely lose hull integrity. That piece of Alliance luh-suh is much stronger than us.” She dabbed at her face with a piece of rag that was just as grimy. “We ain’t goin’ anywhere any time soon.” “No, that’s the problem,” Simon said, quickly clattering down the catwalk steps. River, barefooted as usual, silently floated down at his heels. “We are. The other ship is taking us along with it. Plus, it’s accelerating all the time, so before long we won’t be able to detach even if we manage to release the lock. The gravity it generates will keep us stuck to the side.” “River rung a headin’ outta the navcomp yet? ‘Cause I’ll wager any amount of coin that this heap ain’t goin’ anywhere near Needell.” “She did – and you’re right. The ship altered course the moment we docked, without our even noticing. It’s no longer bound for Needell. We’re not even in the same sector as we were.” “So, where’re we goin’ to, doc?” Jayne said impatiently. Simon gave the others a pensive look. He didn’t want to have to say the words. “It’s Reaver space, ain’t it?” Mal did it for him: a statement of fact rather than a question. He knew Niska’s twisted way of thinkin’. It would be just his idea of a fittin’ send-off. “Yes.” Mal and Jayne cut loose with loud strings of equally vigorous Chinese, both of which echoed round the cargo bay and made Inara cough politely. “Consider that seconded, sir,” Zoe said grimly. “And thirded,” Kaylee added, raising a timid hand. “Ai ya, wo mun wan luh,” Simon said. “All right,” Mal said, a sight calmer. “Let’s think up, folks, and quickly, ‘cause there’s no way we’re dyin’ stuck to this junker. What’s our options here? We can’t get out, no codes or cardkeys for the other doors. You can’t burn in through the ‘lock: no pressure this side. Can’t detach, can’t blast loose. Can’t slow down or stop.” “That’s a whole lotta ‘can’t’,” groused Jayne. “And time’s a factor,” Simon said. “Based on current acceleration, the navcomp’s estimate is that it’ll take us just under three hours to reach the borders of Reaver space.” “Sorry to say, sir, but that ain’t our number one problem,” Zoe said. “Huh?” Jayne said, confounded. “What’s worse’n bein’ pitched inta the middle a’ the Reavers?” “Our suits. Air’s only good for another hundred minutes or so, an’ that’s if we conserve. The three of us’ll asphyxiate long before we reach the Reavers.” “That’s another ‘can’t’, then,” Mal said. “Can’t waste any more time. We got geniuses on board, let’s get geniusin’.” A tense, pressured silence descended, as both groups began to run through schemes and possibilities in their heads. There had to be something they could do. There always was. They’d got out of holes in the past, and this was just another, albeit one with sheer sides, a lid, and filling up with water. “What ‘bout charges?” Kaylee offered hopefully. “How much sticky we got left on board?” “Maybe eighteen feet, total,” said Zoe, who understood what she was suggesting. “Not enough to burn through more’n one hull. And we got at least three between us an’ the black. Sorry, mei mei, no good.” Kaylee subsided, looking dashed. “Wish I’d brought Lola, ‘stead a’ this jian truck,” Jayne said. He gave it a frustrated kick. “She’d blow us outta here, no trouble.” “That ain’t a bad notion,” Mal said, surprised that Jayne might actually have contributed something useful to a debate. “Works in the black, right? Maybe one of you could go get it from his bunk – blast a way in from the outside?” “No point,” River said distantly. “Serenity would still be trapped. Out of the frying pan, into the fire. We have to get free all together.” Simon, Inara and Kaylee turned to look at her. She was standing up on one of the packing crates, as though to get a better view. Her hands were folded demurely behind her back and she was gazing quietly into space. Thinking. “You got a better, little one?” Mal said, sounding more’n a mite tetchy. “Yes. I have an idea. But it’s not wise. Not safe.” “River, honey,” Zoe said gently, “one more risk ain’t gonna make any difference at this point. Wise or not, let’s hear it.” “We fly the other ship instead.” “Je shr shuh muh lan dong shi?,” Jayne said, his voice dark with scorn. “How ‘bout this for an idea – why don’t you let us non-psychos do the proper thinkin’?” River made a face. “Stupid Jayne, village idiot, can’t think for the noise.” “Chur ni-duh, you crazy little whore. Least I didn’t come in no ruttin’ box –” “Nee mun doh bih-zway,” interrupted Mal sharply. Jayne’s mouth was talkin’, which meant he was growin’ nervous, and that wasn’t good. He needed everyone’s heads focused, even Jayne’s. “We got approximately no time for tradin’ insults. Landscape’s gettin’ rougher by the second. We need to come up with a solid plan, and quick.” Kaylee had been silently contemplating something whilst the others wrangled, and now she aired it. “Well, no. Maybe we could do that – what River said. It makes sense.” There was a pause. “What was that again?” Mal said. “Um…” Kaylee was suddenly conscious that all eyes, and ears, were on her. “Well, the tug’s an auto, right? Autos are basically just big computers, machines that go where you tell ‘em. If we could get to the tug, we could maybe hardwire a remote into it – rig it so we could make it do what we wanted. Right?” "Kaylee understands," River said reproachfully. "You should too." There was another, longer pause. “Shun-sheng duh gao-wahn… Jen duh sh tyen tsai!” Jayne said. “We’ll do that!” “Straight with me now, mei mei,” Mal said carefully. “You really think you could pull that off, just how you said?” “Shoo-uh, captain. Easy as lyin’. ‘Course,” Kaylee added, caution creeping in, “we’ll need time to put together a remote… and then actually get it out to the tug…” “That’s right at the front of the ship,” Zoe said. “More’n a few minutes away, even in the shuttle. Time’s somethin’ we ain’t got.” If there were any other options, Mal couldn’t see 'em. “Fine – that’s our plan. Kaylee an’ River, go get started on that remote. Make it work. Use whatever you have to.” The girls exchanged a wordless look of comprehension, and then rushed as one toward the stairs. ‘Nara,” Mal went on, “we’ll need Lola fetchin’ from Jayne’s bunk.” There was a pause, as he considered just what that required her to do. “Second thoughts: the doc can get that – he’s used to seein’ awfulness. You prep one of the shuttles instead, get it ready to fly out to the tug… an’ keep me posted on how River an’ Kaylee’re doin’. Dong luh-ma?”

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“And what do we do,” Jayne demanded as soon as Mal was off the ‘com, “while we’re waitin’ for them ta save the day? Start playin’ suck the whistle, or somethin’?” Mal didn’t know what that entailed, but suspected he really didn’t want to find out. “No, Jayne. We do exactly that – we sit tight, and we wait.” He managed to get down against the airlock door, though it was difficult in the cumbersome suit. “You too, Zoe. The more we move around, the more air we use, the less time those girls’ve got. And we need to give ‘em all the chance we can. That remote has to be right, has to work first time – or we’re humped.”

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Chinese translations for Chapter 5: Luh-suh = Garbage Run-tse duh fwo-tzoo ching bao-yo wuomun = Merciful Buddha protect us Shun-sheng duh gao-wahn = Holy testicle Tuesday Jen duh sh tyen tsai = Absolute genius Mei mei = Little sister Shoo-uh = Sure Chur ni-duh = Screw you Je shr shuh muh lan dong shi = What is this garbage? Nee mun doh bih-zway = Everybody shut the hell up Ai ya, wo mun wan luh = We’re in big trouble Jian = Worthless Hwoon-dan = B*stard Dong-luh mah = Are we clear?

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