Simon was in a hurry. That pregnant woman over at Determination had what sounded like a crisis, so Simon and Jing Mei ran over. And of course it was false labor yet again—or possibly very, very early labor, but nothing Jing Mei couldn’t handle for hours yet—and Simon had to get back to Fortitude before the meeting began. Maybe he didn’t need to run, they had said they wouldn’t start without him, but he wanted to be sure.

So he was rushing. But not so much that he forgot about the listening devices and the explosives on that other ship. Jayne was on the ship, but even so, Simon thought that he’d make just a quick detour and make sure that the lawmen weren’t planting any “guarantees” on Serenity while the rest of the crew was sitting in the Li’s inn, waiting for the meeting to begin.

He quietly walked up to the ship, using the trees and a wagon parked near the ship for cover, and everything looked fine. But then he heard voices, and that’s when he saw them emerge from the trees.

Annelore. Sisyphus. And Spead, who was remarkably sober for a man Simon had only recently seen being carried out of the Lis tavern, screaming about the blue balls of Buddha. The two men were looking around suspiciously, while Annelore was chatting obliviously. “Is that your ship?” she asked.

“Come on,” said Sisyphus, and she went into the ship with him.

Simon waited for them all to go in the ship. Then he cut back into the trees and approached the cargo doors from the side. He stood to one side of the doors and quickly glanced into the cargo hold. Then he realized that he had glanced too quickly to actually see anything, so he took a longer look. They had gone directly into the infirmary.

That made it a little easier, since Simon had a pretty good idea of what parts of the ship were visible from the infirmary. He crept through the hold and peeked into the window.

Annelore was on the table, in restraints. Spead had place some mechanical gadget onto the side of Annelore’s head—it looked like a spread of electrodes attached by a cord to something he had in his hand.

“Now, you have to do this just like I told you, OK?” Sisyphus was talking to Annelore.

“Sisyphus, what’s going on?” she asked.

“It’ll all be OK. You just have to trust me. You trust me, don’t you?” he asked.

She nodded. “Sunlight,” said Spead, and passed the gadget to Sisyphus.

“Beckon,” said Sisyphus.

“Cholera,” said Annelore.

The device on her head lit up, and she began to seize violently.

“What are you doing?” Simon shouted and ran into the infirmary. Both men grabbed him, pushing against him with their shoulders and preventing him from reaching her as she thrashed against the restraints.

“You just have to let it happen,” said Spead.

Sisyphus grabbed a cloth and jammed it against Simon’s mouth.

The seizures continued for what seemed like an eternity but couldn’t have been much longer than a minute. Gradually they became less severe, then ceased altogether. Annelore lay still for a moment, then tried to move her hands and couldn’t because of the restraints. Sisyphus went over and undid them, while the larger Spead held onto Simon.

She put her hands to her head and groaned. Then she struggled to sit up, wincing against the light. She saw Simon and froze, her eyes widening.

“Simon!” she said. “What in rutting hell is Simon doing here, you morons?”

* * *

“Great job defending that perimeter, guys,” Annelore said, as the two men helped her walk down the corridor to Spead’s room. “I can’t imagine how things went wrong when I’ve got talent like you backing me up. Gou shi, does my head hurt.”

Simon followed them into the room, and Sisyphus pulled the door shut behind him. Annelore was sitting on the bed, barely able to keep from collapsing altogether. She was madly rubbing her temples.

“Is-is your memory back?” asked Simon.

“Ugh, with a vengeance. Jesus, this is killing me. God, I was out for what, a year? This thing wasn’t designed to work for any longer than a couple of weeks—Christ only knows what I did to myself.”

“We thought you were dead,” said Spead.

“Damn near,” she replied. “Thanks to Douglaston’s men.”

She suddenly looked up. “Reavers got them, right?”

“Right,” said Sisyphus.

“Excellent,” Annelore said, managing a smile. She rubbed her temples some more, then stopped and looked up again. “Those men the other day?”

“Douglaston, trying to make good on his contract,” Sisyphus said.

“Hun dan—we don’t use him again, all right? Just weapons, not people.”

“You know, those men may be executed,” Simon said.

“See what I mean?” Annelore said to Sisyphus. “As transporters of people, they range from the incompetent to the I-thought-I-was-gonna-die.”

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” said Simon.

She glared at him. “It wasn’t the only time.”

“Annelore, what’s going on?” Simon asked, weakly. “Why is your memory back? You did, you did what to yourself?”

Annelore smiled again—he remembered her smile as being warmer, somehow. “I think you can figure it out, right? You were a bright kid.”

“The implant,” he said.

“The implant,” agreed Annelore. “You’ve got it. Looks like a rutting Frampold, acts like a rutting Frampold—most of them, anyway—but unlike a rutting Frampold, you can turn it off. It doesn’t screw up your brain permanently by shorting out, it screws up your brain temporarily by sending out a constant stream of little shocks. The idea is, your brain can recover afterwards and you’re good as new. Although I guess I really put that notion to the test, having the rutting thing on for a gorram year.”

“Why?” asked Simon. “Why would do you that to yourself?”

“To withstand interrogation, Simon. The problem with underground organizations is, it’s hard to organize if you don’t have a person who knows things. But then that person becomes a liability if they are apprehended. This way, you avoid that problem—and in my case, you get to hump a thug guard, an added bonus.”

“You’re, you’re a terrorist?”

Her lip curled. “Revolutionary is the preferred term, Jesus. And don’t believe that Red Dawn crap, either. Total Alliance gou shi. Don’t talk like you’re so pleased with the status quo. How’s your sister, anyway?”

The tone was not one of friendly inquiry, but Simon answered, “Fine. Um, were you the ones who—”

“No. Look guys, it’s been great catching up with Simon here, but I think it’s time for us to leave. Spead, where’s your ship?”

Spead and Sisyphus exchanged glances. “There’s a problem,” said Spead.

“What kind of problem?” said Annelore.

“I don’t have any money,” said Spead. “I don’t have a ship. My father married this biao zi who talked him into cutting me off. I’ve got nothing.”

“Except the impressive ability to imitate an alcoholic,” said Sisyphus.

“Thanks. If you met my mother, you’d understand,” said Spead. “Hey, were you the one who stole that mechanic’s wine?”

“Yes, I did. I figured, if you weren’t really drunk, it would help with the illusion, and if you were really drunk, it would help to hide all the—”

“What’s her name?” said Annelore, interrupting the two men. “The biao zi.”

“Desiree L’Amour,” said Spead.

Annelore started to chuckle. “Do you know her real name?” she asked.

“She insists that’s it,” he said.

“She’s lying,” said both Annelore and Sisyphus.

“I know,” he replied.

“When we get back,” said Sisyphus.

“Yeah, you take care of her,” Annelore said. “Someone with a name like that’s got to have a skeleton or two in the closet. You’ll find it, and we’ll remove this impediment to the cause.”

“Really?” Spead said to Sisyphus. “By the Amitabha, I wish I’d known you before this mission.”

“That still leaves us on this ship,” said Sisyphus.

“I know,” Annelore lay back. She was silent for a few moments. “I think for now, we should just sit tight. This is a Firefly-class vessel, right? We stay here quiet like until my head stops pounding, and then we’ll figure out a place for me to hide. There may be some fuss, but eventually they’ll want the deal to be done and this ship is going to take off.”

* * *

It was a little embarrassing at first when Simon was late to the meeting—everyone was there, and after some chit-chat, they were all just sort of waiting. But embarrassment quickly turned to alarm when word came that Simon had left Determination a half-hour ago, and then that Annelore had never arrived at that sister’s home in Resilience. Lawman Jude hopped on his com and soon there was an alert out to see if anyone had seen another ship land.

Kaylee just wasn’t sure what to do and thought maybe she should go back to the ship to see if Simon was there. But then one of the electricians she had met her first time on the planet stopped her.

“Oh, Kaylee, you’re just who I need to see!” he said. He was a charming fellow by the name of Wadi—she had forgotten his name, but he told it her again. He lived in Endurance, the next cave over, and his motorbike was broken.

“Normally, I wouldn’t bother you,” he said. “But they need it for the search party—they want to do a sweep and look for ships.”

So of course she agreed to come along. He led the way out of the one cave, down the trail, and into the other. They walked pretty far into the cave and into one of the homes. “It’s in the back room,” he said, and opened a door that led almost immediately into the stone wall of the tunnel—opened it, as he had every other door, like a gentleman, and waved her through first.

She was such a dope, she didn’t even realize when the door shut what was happening. The room was shaped almost like a hallway, and went off narrowly to the left. It took her a minute to realize that there was no bike. Then she heard the bolt shoot home and realized that she was trapped and alone.

On the floor was a mat. Next to the mat was a bottle of water, a chamber pot, a loaf of bread, a fat wedge of goat cheese, four slightly bruised tangelos, and a string of beads. On the mat was a note.

“Dear Kei Li,” it said. “Please do not be scared. We will not hurt you. We just want our doctress back.”

* * *

They couldn’t be sure, and it was Zoe’s fault.

The one on the com system was easy—it was right out in the open, it just never turned off even though it looked like it did. There had been one stuck under the table in the dining area—not so small that you couldn’t find it easy enough if you knew to look for it. And Zoe would bet her cut from their next job that they’d be getting a wave from Smith soon, wondering why there was a bug in the cargo.

But they couldn’t be sure—from what Simon told them, the settlers could have access to devices that were much smaller and more sophisticated. A small charge, in the right place….

And she had let them walk all over the ship. Idiot. It was a colossal lapse of judgment, as though she were some back-birth who had never heard of the prevention principle: Easier to keep your enemy out than undo the damage once he had gotten in.

And why had she humped her own gorram crew so hard? That was the laugh of it—security. She, like the captain, like everyone, had wanted this deal to go down solid. She wanted the settlers to like them, to trust them, to want them back. She wanted Smith—a man who would never bring the Alliance down on them, because he had even more to lose—to need them. She wanted a nice, regular milk run, one that would bring them steady income and little danger.

People thought she and Wash weren’t alike, but sometimes, they were just like twins. Except that Wash was willing to admit he thought their situation was too dicey for a child. While Zoe acted tough, and undermined the safety of her entire crew in a foolish effort to make their life more secure.

What kind of mother was she going to be?

She finished her sweep of the engine room, and depressingly, didn’t find anything. She took a moment to tamp down her feelings—for now, she would just have to do her best in a bad situation. But she’d remember this. God, the baby wasn’t even alive yet and already it was changing her.

Zoe walked back into the hallway and onto the catwalk, planning to go downstairs and check the infirmary and passenger rooms. But the nervous gathering in the cargo hold stopped her.

Wash, Mal and Jayne were looking out the cargo doors. Jayne had Vera in his hands in a way that made Zoe check her sidearm. She joined them, and saw a crowd of about 20 settlers.

Like they thought, it hadn’t taken long for the locals to start blaming the outsiders who were at hand.

The good news was, some of the settlers were standing with their back to the cargo doors, between the ship and the crowd. And they were mostly lawmen.

“You know they’ve got her! They’ve got our doctress!” shouted one of the angry settlers.

“We ain’t got nobody!” Mal shouted back. “We’re missing a doctor too!”

“And we’re just supposed to take their word for it! The word of sojourners! Jude, what is wrong with you!”

There were various cries of agreement, and shouts of “Jude!”

“I will not have a mob!” Jude bellowed.

“What’s going on?” The question came from behind Zoe. It was, of all people, Simon.

“You’re here?” Zoe asked.

Mal turned to Jayne. “I thought you were supposed to be keeping an eye on the ship,” he said.

“A man has to pee,” Jayne replied, looking uncomfortable.

“What’s going on?” Simon asked, again.

“They want Annelore,” Zoe said. “And they think we have her.”

Simon looked at the crowd, then looked at the crew. He said nothing, but Zoe could see that he had reached some sort of decision. “One moment,” he said, and walked away, back toward the infirmary.

Zoe looked at the captain and Jayne. They were as confused as she was.

Voices emerged from the back of the ship—one of them, a woman’s. Zoe heard Simon say, “You don’t have a choice.” And then back he came, pulling someone by the arm. It was Annelore, looking in rather poor grace.

Her appearance set off an explosion of talk among the settlers, some of it angry. Simon pulled Annelore to the open doorway of the cargo hold. He raised his hand, and some of the settlers shushed the others.

“Here she is. She wasn’t kidnapped, and she hasn’t been harmed,” he said.

“Lord’s sake, what happened to you, child? We was worried sick!” It was Kerry Li, bustling up and putting her arms around the younger woman.

Annelore’s face was blank. Then something crumbled inside her and she burst into tears. “Kerry, I’m so sorry.”

The entire crowd gasped. Kerry pulled back from Annelore, a look of amazement on her face. “You know who I am, child?”

Annelore just nodded, too choked with tears to talk.

“Your memory’s back?”

She nodded again.

“It’s a miracle!” exclaimed one of the other settlers, and soon everything was drowned out by talk. Runners were sent to spread the word, and within minutes the small crowd that had gathered outside Serenity had grown into a vast, happy mob of settlers.

“Did you do that?” Mal asked Simon.

“I didn’t do anything,” said Simon, looking somewhat pained. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”

After some discussion, the settlers decided that seeing first Simon, and then Sisyphus had jarred Annelore’s memory back to normal. Annelore seemed quite overwhelmed by the attention of the crowd, and eventually Kerry and Jude took her back into the common area.

Sisyphus emerged, and the settlers all felt obligated to congratulate him and Serenity’s crew on a job well done. Zoe found herself flashing back to her wedding day, as she stood next to Wash and accepted the congratulations of a seemingly endless line of people, most of whom she barely knew.

Book and River arrived as the mob grew. Book was carrying two large baskets with handles. River was clapping and shouting “Yea! Yea!” with such glee, Zoe had to wonder what was going on inside her head.

Then Jude suddenly bolted from the back of the ship, his face dark with fury, and gathered the lawmen around, speaking to them in hushed and angry tones. His appearance suddenly brought everyone down to earth—something was very wrong. Zoe looked around her, alert again to threat and menace.

“Where’s Kaylee?” she asked.

“Good question,” said Wash. “Where is Kaylee?”

“Hey everyone!” it was Simon, once again with his hand raised. What that what people did here? “Everyone, has anybody seen our mechanic, Kaylee? She’s the young lady on our crew.”

“Wears coveralls, mostly,” said Mal. “Young, light brown hair.”

“Kaylee’s missing?” said one of the lawmen, the small con artist Simon had said was the one who likely planted the gorram bugs. Xastare.

“I haven’t seen her since that meeting,” said Zoe.

Xastare pulled Jude’s arm. He looked irritated, but she spoke quietly to him, and he stepped out in front of the crowd.

“Confess!” he snapped. “The law commands it!”

“She’s all right,” said a man’s voice from the crowd. “We kept her fed.”

A little man stepped forward, looking defiant. Zoe had the strong urge to crush him.

“You kidnapped her?” asked Simon.

“No, we didn’t kidnap her, we was defending our cave and our doctress,” the short man yelped.

“Without the knowledge or approval of the lawmen or elders,” said Jude. “That’s gonna cost you.”

“I thought you killed kidnappers,” said Simon.

“We have the right! In a crisis, we have the right to protect ourselves!” the man said, indignant. “And where was our doctress? She was right there, on your ship!”

Jude waved his hand, commanding silence. “Save your arguments for the elders’ council. Btu everyone should know that Annelore told me that she came to this ship of her own free will, hoping to find her friends from her old life.”

“Where is Kaylee?” asked Zoe.

“She’s fine,” squeaked the pathetic little man. “She’s in my root cellar. Jinny’s looking after her.”

“Jinny’s right there,” said Xastare, pointing at a small, weak-looking woman standing at the edge of the crowd.

“But you’re mechanic’s OK, don’t worry about it,” bleated the woman. “Qing Jie is looking after her.”

“What?” said Jude, the color draining from his face. The other lawmen blanched. “Does he know that Annelore got her memory back?”

“Oh, yeah,” said the woman, obviously perplexed by their response. “We all heard that—that’s why I came. Qing said, ‘You just go on ahead, Jinny, and see if it’s true, what they’re saying about Annelore. I’ll look after Kaylee for you.’”

And the look on Jude’s face chilled Zoe to the bone.