Mal let everyone off for an hour, then called most of them back into the lounge. Wash set the autopilot and the alarms as he came down to sit next to Zoë. Mal set up a com so that Simon could hear from the infirmary. Kaylee held the com as though it made her feel better as she sat between Inara and Book. Jayne sat, pulling his chair slightly away from the others. He folded his arms. Mal explained the situation as best he knew it, with a few comments interspersed from the others who had been on the planet and in the infirmary. By the time Book finished, Mal was pacing.

“We have a job due in a bit more’n two days,” he said. “We have cargo in the hold that I don’t particularly want anyone else knowin’ about, no matter how bleedin’ they might be. We stole equipment from an Alliance base, and while that normally wouldn’t matter much, there’s also the matter of the Alliance officer who may or may not be a vegetable in our infirmary. Who, incidentally, may or may not be tracked right at this instant. Now Borealis is close, but there’s no real hospital to speak of, and I doubt that they’d ken to takin’ on a greyback anyways.” He spread his hands. “I’m open to opinions.”

Zoë spoke first, her voice cold. “I think you know my opinion, Sir,” she said.

Mal smiled at her, knowing exactly what she was thinking. “That I do,” he said. “Any others?”

“Sir,” she spoke again. “If they are tracking her, and from what the Shepherd says, it’s not beyond the realm of possibility… is it really worth it?”

“Zoë, I see your point. Hell, I feel your point more than I think anyone knows. But the fact remains that she is the reason I still have a full crew. There’s something to be said for that. You’ve said it yourself – people like us… it’s not like us to leave a man, or a woman, in this case, behind. Not in times of war. And from what Jayne and Kaylee are tellin’ me, it was quite the war down there.”

“Alliance?” Zoë wasn’t fazed. “Yeah. I still would have left her.”

Kaylee was shaking her head. “You weren’t there, Zoë. You don’t know that you would have.”

Zoë leveled a gaze at her that would have frozen blood. “Yes. I would have.”

Wash laid a calming hand on his wife’s shoulder, pulling her slightly back. “Lots of ifs and would haves,” he said. “Let’s figure out what to do now that we’ve got her.” He looked over at Mal, then to Book. “Is there any way we know of to see if they’re tracking?”

Book went to speak, but Jayne broke in. “So what if they are? So what if there’s a great big screen with a big flashin’ sign that says ‘come ‘n get me?’” He leaned forward on the table, looking intently at Mal. “We told you. Her people – her officer was tryin’ to stop her. She took two civilians outside during a full-blown Reaver attack. Quarts of blood, stacks of bodies and who knows what else, and when the Reavers are gone, she’s gone too. For all they know, the Reavers took ‘er. She said they came all the time, Mal. It happened all the time. Those Alliance knew what she was doin’, just like she did. They knew the risk.” He leaned back, still holding Mal’s gaze. “They ain’t exactly gonna be waitin’ up for her.”

Mal and the others stared at him. Jayne stared back, trying to act nonchalant and doing badly at it. “Well, they ain’t,” he said. “I wouldn’t.”

“Why not? The shuttle’s gone. What’s to say she ain’t on it?” Mal shot back, determined to play devil’s advocate. This was a side of Jayne he had rarely seen. Normally, the mercenary would be the first one to vote to send her out the airlock after making sure her pockets were empty. Girl saved his life, Mal thought. Guess that counts for something, even for Jayne.

“She said they had only made it to the landing field once, but we were awful close,” Kaylee spoke hesitantly. Mal turned, surprised to hear her voice. She hadn’t spoken but two words since coming back on board. “I ain’t no gambler, but I’d even lay ya odds that ours ain’t the only ship as went missin’.”

Jayne nodded. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that was even more’n a full-on raidin’ party. Organized. Split out. That kind of plannin’? It just ain’t right.”

“It is a mite disturbing,” Mal agreed. “But this meeting ain’t about what’s disturbin’ and what’s not. This meeting is about what we do,” he gestured to the infirmary, “with that.”

Simon’s voice came over the com. “Why don’t you ask her?” he asked. “She’s awake.”

“Thought you said she’d be out for another few hours,” Mal said.

“That’s what the plan was, but she came out early.” Mal could practically hear the doctor shrug. “She says she’d like to speak to you.”

Mal looked around the table, knowing that sooner or later, every person there would try to sneak to the infirmary and listen. He decided to head it off before it happened. “Any of you wantin’ to hear this, it’s your right. You’re all part of this crew, and I’ll let ya have your say. Just make sure she has hers first.” This last part was directed at Zoë, who narrowed her eyes but said nothing. The group entered the infirmary, taking positions around the room. Mal knew it was a bit crowded, and he knew it would throw off the greyback, just like he knew it was irritating the hell out of the doctor. He wanted the greyback on her guard. The part about the doc was just the icing on the cake.

Mal stood at the side of the bed, looking down. Her hair had dried a little – though still crusted with blood, he could see that it was quite a bit lighter than he had first thought. Her eyes, now open, met his. They were an odd grey-green, still fuzzy from the effects of the surgery and the doc’s medication. He held her eyes, staring her down, though it took everything in him to do so. Her gaze was downright unsettling. Finally, she broke it and looked around.

“Bit small for an Orpheus class,” she said. “Where am I?”

“Safe,” Mal responded. “For now. Who are you?”

“And I’ll bet her name isn’t Kate.” She flicked her eyes to Kaylee, who stood next to the door. “Hello again.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Mal saw Kaylee start to smile, but stop suddenly as Zoë shifted. If Mal didn’t know any better, he’d have sworn she had stepped on the mechanic’s toe. He inwardly congratulated her, but stayed all business as he stared down the officer, who eventually looked back at him.

“Conventions,” Mal said. “I’m entitled to a name, a rank and a posting. Either you give them to me,” here he smiled, “or I start taking aaaaallllll my gauze back. Dong ma?” He knew her name; Jayne had given it to him, as well as her rank. But this was a greyback on an independent ship, and Mal knew the rules. Looking at her, he got the feeling that she knew exactly where what was going on and how precarious her situation was. She raised an eyebrow slightly, willing to play by the rules.

“Hunter. Tannis L. Lieutenant, Anglo-Sino Alliance Navy. Posting to Asylum Listening Post, indefinite. Previous Posting IAV Greyhawk.” Out of the corner of his eye, Mal saw Book’s eyebrow raise in return. He made a mental note to ask about it later.

“My crew tell me that it’s on account o’ you that they’re still breathin’. That true?”

Hunter shifted, wincing. “Hate to brag,” she managed through gritted teeth. “In fact, I’m wishing right now that I couldn’t.”

Mal folded his arms. “For that, I thank you. We’re inbound to Borealis. Doc’ll keep an eye on you ‘til then, and afterward we’ll find you a nice Alliance hospital near the Core. Set you down, and we’ll be on our merry. Figure on havin’ you planetside inside of a week.”

Hunter looked at Book for a long moment before turning back to Mal.

“I’m sorry, Captain,” she said. “I hate to ruin all of you and your doctor’s hard work, but by the time we get planetside, it won’t matter,” she replied. “By my watch, I’ll be dead in 16 hours anyways. Or soon thereafter.”

Mal stared. “You know somethin’ we don’t? Because this conversation just got a might uncomfortable for my taste.”

Hunter shifted in the bed, wincing at the pull on her arm. “It’s the collar. It’s… sort of complicated.”

“Short answer’d be just fine for now.”

“Asylum – It isn’t what you think it is. It’s a prison. A place the Alliance sends people best forgotten. Once you’re assigned there, the only way you leave is as a prisoner of the Reavers. We’re out there. They’re out there. They know we’re out there, and most of us can’t get off because of these collars.” She sighed. “They’re created for a specific purpose – to keep us on that planet. Those of us that wear them have to link up to the Asylum mainframe once every 86 hours to download current code.”

“And no code…” Simon’s voice trailed off as he leaned against the counter, fascinated.

“No code, the collar ‘believes’ you’re no longer on planet and are therefore an escapee. At 86.5 hours, it kills you.” Again, she looked at Book before continuing. “But I’m not telling you anything you don’t know, am I?”

Mal looked back at Book as well, confused. “Some of it’s new. How does it work?”

“By releasing high level manufactured toxins into your system. It also releases the biological equivalent of an EMP into your brain, which shreds your neural system. Short answer, it drives you mad, then kills you. All in less than three hours, give or take a bit. Most of the inhabitants of Asylum are political prisoners, but some are more… dangerous. Something goes too wrong, you can find yourself assigned to Quan. No one’s ever heard of it, because those that end up on it rarely leave alive. It’s next to impossible to get off. The collars can also be tracked. But I think you know that, too.”

Mal ignored the implication, preferring to play dumb, and he prayed inwardly that the others would do the same. Zoë came to his rescue again.

“‘Might be’? Not to reassuring knowing that somebody ‘might’ be looking for you. Might think they ought to look here, and that’s not a good thing,” Zoë said, her voice low and dangerous.

“And which were you?” Mal’s voice was hard. “Seems to me that they might be interested in reclaiming one such as you. Might be one they might track.”

Hunter laughed painfully. “I assure you, Captain Reynolds. The very fact that I was on Asylum either means I’m worth nothing at all or too much. Trust me. Tangling with the people you’d have to tangle with to ransom me isn’t worth it.”

“We’ve tangled with Alliance before. We’re businessmen. Ain’t got nothing to hide.”

She gave Mal an odd smile. “If you say so.” They locked eyes for a minute. Hunter broke the silence as she turned back to Kaylee. She smiled sadly. “Now do you see why I told you to leave me?”

Kaylee hugged her arms to herself. “I thought it was the right thing. You said yourself that they were coming back. We couldn’t leave.” She looked around at the group, her face confused and hurt. “We couldn’t leave her. I didn’t know…” Simon touched her arm.

“It’s okay,” he said. “You did the right thing.”

Hunter wasn’t so sure. “Doctor, perhaps you don’t understand. I’m dead either way. I really appreciate what you did for me, but as you can see…” she coughed, wincing. “I’m sorry.”

“And breaking the filaments…” he said. “That starts the chain reaction too, doesn’t it? That’s why you just can’t rip it off and make a run for it?”

Hunter nodded painfully. Mal could tell that the conversation was wearing on her, but he thought that she might not want to waste the rest of her short, painful life sleeping, so he let the doctor keep going.

“You’re fine, then.” Simon said. “We broke some filaments by accident during surgery. You’re still alert, you’re still awake- how long ago was this collar put on? Could it have expired?”

“Expire?” Hunter stifled a laugh, curling in on herself as much as the straps would let her. Mal watched her pull herself together. “No, Doctor. They don’t ‘expire.’ What you saw during the surgery was the equivalent of a warning shot. Tampering with the collar can give just enough to make you wish you hadn’t so much as adjusted it without permission.”

Simon’s face became more intense as he looked at her more closely, focusing on the collar. “Which toxin?”

“Come again?”

“Which toxin is in this collar? What are the filaments supposed to release?”

Hunter gave a slight shrug with her good shoulder. “They didn’t see fit to tell me that part.”

Simon nodded. “I figured.”

Mal straightened. “Somethin’ on your mind, Doc?”

“Toxins. EMPs. Stuff intended to kill you. So what happens if you’re already dead?”

Profound silence filled the infirmary. Wash finally broke it. “All the same? Just in a different order?”

Simon would have paced if there had been room. “No blood flow. Metabolism stopped. Neural function at a minimum. It would give you time to stop or reverse the process.”

“You can’t reverse the process,” Hunter said, but she no longer sounded so sure.

“Very few things in this ‘verse are truly irreversible. Toxins have antidotes. If the Alliance made it, they will have made it to be counteracted. Mistakes happen. There has to be a way.”

Mal was getting antsy. “There a point to this, doc?”

Simon poked experimentally at the collar. “I think I can take it off her. At least, I can try. She won’t be much worse off. There may be some permanent damage, but it’s better than the alternative.”

“We got the facilities for such an operation, doc?”

“In theory, it’s relatively simple. It will be a little sketchy trying to find a catabolic agent for the toxin, but…” he trailed off, seeing that he was beginning to lose Mal. “I think it’s possible. Lieutenant, with your permission, I’d like to try.”

“Do you know how many toxins the Alliance has created? I could be ‘irreversible’ before you get halfway down the list.” She laughed a little. “Guess it doesn’t matter much, though.”

“List might not be as long as you think,” Book broke in. “Reckon I might be able to help you narrow it a bit.”

Every eye in the infirmary turned to him. He smiled. “Best get moving,” he said. “We don’t know how long this will take.”

Simon turned back to the captain. “It can’t hurt to try. And with the collar off, we can dump it. Let them track it then. Let me do this.”

Mal nodded, but he wasn’t about to let Book off so easily. “One of these days, Shepherd, I’d like an explanation. Don’t have to be a big one. Just something.”

Book took him by the arm, pushing him out the door. “Someday.”

The door shut in his face.