A.N. Mostly normal angst, with brief surges of high angst. --------------------------------------------------

CHAPTER 11 When Friday came, Mal, Jayne, and Caddock wove through the crowds collected on the main grounds, heading towards the main building. The convex arc of the windows captured and reflected the masses of people under the perfect blue sky. The cold, thin air took his breath, but affected Jayne and Caddock more severely – Jayne still limping from his injured leg, Caddock wheezing incessantly. It would be difficult to creep quietly with those two. Out in the midst of the air show it didn’t seem to matter -- though Mal was realizing that this event was more than a simple air show. Cars had been tailgating since sunrise, horns blasting, accompanied by cheers of jubilee. The air was thick with the smoke from firecrackers, and a few more illegal pops whistled through the sky, waiting for the show to begin. Barely audible in the mix were the sirens of medics rushing to those already injured by the fervent festivities. The cacophony had persisted for hours already, and the grounds were littered with drunks painted in the town colors. An announcer in a tinny voice blasted out of speakers hidden everywhere, requesting a cessation of the firecrackers so the first planes could safely take off, threatening bodily harm and jail time to those who disobeyed. The doors to the main building were closed, with signs indicating that they did not have a public lavatory inside, though Mal noticed a few employees entering and exiting, taking advantage of their keys. As one man exited and rejoined the masses, Mal palmed his key and then he, Jayne, and Caddock entered the main building. The doors ominously sealed out the noise from the celebration. For a moment, Mal thought he’d gone deaf, but soon enough the sound of Caddock’s wheezing filled the space. There was no receptionist, no security visible. Still, Mal motioned the others to take cover quickly behind the welcome desk. The room was built like a vase, the walls curving inward. The rotunda of the main lobby was an open cylinder all the way to a skylight seventeen stories up. The hallway was a mixture of ramps and stairs spiraling upwards, and all rooms faced the outside. Anyone, from any floor, could look over the side of the spiraling staircase and line up a good shot for any battle in the lobby. This was not the place for a final stand. There were two hallways out of the rotunda leading to wings on either side. “Which way?” Mal asked Caddock as they crouched behind the desk. Caddock nodded his head toward the ramp, going up.

*~*

The world spun around Inara as she propped herself up on her elbows. She needed water. Her skin felt dry and shriveled, ready to fall off of her body. Her hands trembled as she opened the first aid kit and rooted through the contents. That last instant ice-pack called to her. The liquid bit sloshed around, but she knew it wasn’t water. Still, it may moisten her tongue long enough to let those bits of poison crystals slide down her throat. She bit at her overgrown fingernail, trying to get a raw edge so she could cut through the plastic without spilling the precious liquid. Just to be sure, she emptied the contents of the kit onto the bed and placed it under the pack like a bowl. The first drop of liquid on her tongue caused her to gag and she spilled the rest into the bowl. She forced another drop on her tongue, then another. Then she placed the nitrate crystals in her mouth and tried to swallow. She gagged again, but with no water in her body, she had as much trouble coughing up the crystals as swallowing them. This was not easing her passing. This was not a way to die. It occurred to Inara to pray. For death, for life, she wasn’t sure. Her faith lingered over her shoulder like a forgotten ghost. She could feel the drugs she’d managed to swallow starving oxygen from her system, but for the moment, death was not an option. She looked at the puddle of liquid filling the first aid kit, then at the closed door with no handle on the inside. The fluorescent light flickered maniacally, as though measuring what life she had left in her. She would not go out this way! Harvesting the final remnants of her strength, she dragged herself to the door, pulling the bowl of liquid beside her. She did not trust herself to carry it. The door was electric. The seam visible. Electric things and liquid things always managed to agitate each other – like her and Mal. Agitate. Mal. No! She needed to keep her wits about her. Just a little longer. Take your time. No one is coming to interrupt you.

*~*

Jayne could smell her. The scent was cold, but she had been up here at one time. Faint, probably because she hadn’t had access to her perfumes in weeks, but it was definitely Inara. He moved faster, this injured thigh on fire. He didn’t like sneaking about with Caddock wheezing as deafeningly loud as he was. Caddock had to be lying about something and the sooner he exposed the lie, the sooner he could kill Caddock. A loud echo from the hall below froze Jayne in his tracks. The others froze as well. Mal peaked over the side, scoping out the threat, then deciding it was nothing, made a quick nod, sending them forward again. They circled around the fourth floor, then the fifth. Jayne paused, but Caddock passed him, leading the way up. Mal followed Caddock and the two disappeared around the next half flight of the circle. Jayne waited for Caddock’s odiferous stench to defuse, then he smelled the air again. He had never been good at tracking by smell, though a woman like Inara made it a little easier. How far back had they lost her trail? Why was Caddock still leading them upward? “Mal!” Jayne hollered, his voice echoing through the corridors. He galloped up the ramp, rounding the bend to the next level. Caddock had Mal in a choke hold and was pulling him toward the edge of the railing.

*~*

Book used a keyless entry code to enter the main building from the side door. Amadi had three trusted pass codes that apparently had not changed at all in thirty years. The side-wing he had entered through was a single story atrium with twenty foot ceilings. His footsteps were swallowed by the soft red carpeting, and the airshow was clearly visible through the arch of windows. Though he knew the windows were tinted, he felt exposed by all the masses who had set up picnics just outside. For the umpteenth time, he felt uncomfortable in his Shepherd’s clothes, walking into his past as though he owned it. By the door, he found a note posted by the fire marshal, declaring that the room’s maximum occupancy was 814. Book felt like a speck in the open air. Today, the room’s occupancy was one. There were six posted exit signs, but no posted layout of the rest of the building. Wash had seen Inara’s shuttle in the hanger bay. All Book had to do was get to the bay, get it out, break atmo, and meet Serenity in the air. Right. No problem. But then, that was second on his to-do list. Book tugged at his white collar and shifted the pillowcase slung over his shoulder. The pillowcase kicked and wriggled as Bristles fought to get out. “Not yet, little dai ren,” Book whispered. “Not yet.”

*~*

Zoë curled into Kaylee’s hammock, doubled over in pain, but trying to appear nonchalant. Kaylee hardly seemed to notice, her attention firmly on the drive manifold. Wash’s voice echoed over the comm, takeoff in five minutes. Simon was in the cockpit next to him, playing co-pilot, or rather making sure no communication was lost between Wash, Kaylee, and those two sha gua wingmen. Zoë couldn’t be on the bridge just now. She was starting to think she shouldn’t be anywhere right now. She’d been angry at Mal for not taking her on the job, but at the moment, her innards were cramping and muscles were on strike. “It will pass in a moment,” River told her, peaking into the engine room. Kaylee glanced up from her work to see River and noticed Zoë laying on the hammock. Zoë resented the concern on Kaylee’s face. She could feel the intensity of the pain subside, but she couldn’t even help Kaylee in the engine room. She felt useless. “Sweetie, maybe you should strap yourself into something,” Kaylee said to River. “Fancy flying,” River said with a smile. “Somewhere with a view.” “Honey,” Zoë grunted, forcing herself to sit. “Why don’t you take your brother’s seat. Send him down here.” “I can fly?”

*~*

“I’m a little busy now,” Mal grunted at Jayne, then flipped Caddock over his shoulder and drew his gun. Caddock kicked the gun and sprang to his feet, throwing a punch that Mal blocked. Mal dove for his gun, but Caddock pounced on top of him and the two started rolling down the ramp toward Jayne. Caddock pulled a knife and flailed wildly as the two spiraled downward, stopping when they hit the curve of the wall. Mal came up first, but Caddock tackled him quickly, knife at Mal’s throat. Neither of them heard the bullet that caught Caddock in the forehead. When Caddock collapsed on top of Mal, the Captain looked up to see Jayne holding his perfectly aimed pistol, elongated by the silencer. “Good thinking,” Mal complimented, throwing Caddock off of himself. “Only now, we don’t know where Inara is.” Jayne holstered his gun and walked over to Caddock, rolled him onto his back, and started searching up the sleeves of his coat. “She weren’t up here anyhow,” Jayne assured. “We lost her scent a little ways back.” “Are you looking for loose change, Jayne?” “No, this.” Jayne produced an etched metal card with and LCD screen from the folds of Caddock’s coat. “Saw him checking it earlier.” Mal turned it over in his hands, then activated the screen. “If he’s buried her here, she has to be on the lowest level… this place goes deep. If I go up half a flight, I can access the service stairs.” “You go there,” Jayne grimaced, half-limping. “I’ll see if I can pick up her trail where we lost it before. See you at the rendezvous.”

*~*

Book tread carefully out of the atrium into the main lobby, ducking behind the empty security desk. This was where the “show” security resided, uniformed, making clients feel secure. The real security was elsewhere, and that was the place he needed to find. Once Bristles made his way through their systems, they’d have a hard time mounting a defense, and Serenity needed all the chaos it could get. He ducked lower as a man stormed into the lobby, speaking irately at into a radio. Book recognized Amadi’s voice immediately, bellowing about missing the air show for minor breaches. Certainly, someone was being fired. He dared peak up for a moment to get a sense of the situation. When Book saw Amadi across the room, he suddenly wished we were wearing a cup. Although one could spar indefinitely with Wing Chun, the idea in combat was to cripple your opponent quickly, so that you could get away. Maximal damage, minimal force. And Book was sorely out of practice. He pressed through his fear, focusing on the fight at hand. He needed to prevent Amadi from calling for reinforcements – buy Mal the precious time he needed. Caddock would certainly be stalling. Either Inara would be sprung or Amadi would be killed. They weren’t likely to accomplish both before the alarm sounded. And if Book could help it, they wouldn’t accomplish the latter at all. Jayne circled the ramp on the fourth floor, looking down into the lobby, weapon ready to strike. Book feared that Jayne would kill Amadi, and forget Inara. Why had Jayne climbed four flights anyway? Inara was buried. With an injured leg, what had compelled him to go up? Book tensed as Amadi’s posture changed. His old friend knew something was wrong – knew they were there. He had to pounce before Amadi sounded the alarm.

*~*

“Serenity to Control Tower, Bob Squad seeking clearance for take-off.” “Control to Bob, you are cleared for take-off.” “Bob?” Simon repeated doubtfully. Wash smiled and nodded, continuing his preflight checks. “You can’t name your squad Bob,” Simon continued, skeptically. “Oh, so now you’re the Captain of Bob?” Wash jested. Simon let it drop when River entered and whispered something in his ear. Simon dashed out so quickly that Wash wondered if Saskia had died. Just before the others had left, she’d been curled up with Jayne on the couch in the lounge. Jayne had been eating heartily while Saskia warned him of all Caddock’s tells. Much to Simon’s chagrin, even after the surgery Saskia’s condition failed to improve and she consistently refused any bed she wasn’t tied to. He also worried about Zoë. He’d only been to their bunk briefly since last night, but had half a mind to move out after seeing everything broken and strewn about the way it was. She was angry at him for what had happened and he couldn’t blame her. “Serenity, this is Bob 1, ready for take-off,” Jared called. Wash adjusted the volume on his earpiece a little. “Serenity, this Bob 2, ready for take-off,” Walker said. “Acknowledged Bob squad. Straight-hover to 4000 feet. Right into the lazy eight.” Wash had taken lead, on account of his experience. It turned out that Jared and Walker were both very experienced wingmen in larger aircrafts and cargo ships, and apparently Jantis enjoyed displaying the chunkier, mothballed vessels. Jared had described it as watching a rhino turn on a dime. Wash had never seen a real rhino or a real dime, but he got the idea. It was all he could do not to throw a Crazy Ivan in the show, but that was more of a solo stunt. River took over the copilot chair and stared, awestruck at the open sky, her mouth a constant “O” as Wash pulled an easy lazy eight, sideways to the horizon. “Up,” she commanded, softly, so easily that Wash nearly obeyed before he checked his screen. Focus! River was not ordering him, but warning him. “Serenity to Bob 2. Close formation, ascend to 6800.” “Acknowledged Serenity, ascending to 6800.” Walker was flying stiff and the opening moves weren’t loosening him up. Wash flipped a few switches, adjusting the sensitivity of the yoke as he gripped it more tightly. He cast a sidelong glance at River, then at the screen showing the position of the three ships, then back out the window. “This is where the fun begins,” he muttered. River smiled happily. *~*

Zoë slouched on the side bed of the Infirmary, looking at Saskia, who was unhappily bound to the middle bed. River had been right – the pain had subsided quickly, but Zoë knew she wouldn’t be pulling her weight in this fight and it irked her immensely. “Always figured I’d die in battle,” Saskia groused. “Never figured I’d sit one out.” “This ain’t a battle. The war is over,” Zoë countered, just to be contrary. Saskia craved the action, just as she did and Zoë figured she’d be out of her restraints soon enough. Although Jayne had cuffed Saskia to the bed, he’d made the mistake of leaving the key with Simon and Zoë guessed that Saskia had already palmed it off him. She knew because that’s what she would have done in Saskia’s place. Simon skidded into the Infirmary, fully expecting to see one or both women dead, but resumed his composure quickly. He questioned Zoë as to the nature of the pain she was in, assured her that such ‘minor’ pain was normal considering what she’d been through, and Zoë told him where he could shove his diagnosis. Then Simon administered his usual prescription of rest, gave an added dose of painkillers for good measure, and before he could stop her, Zoë was stalking out again. “Got another pair of cuffs?” Saskia asked, yanking on her own. “I could definitely use them,” Simon answered. “How are you feeling?” “Fit as a fiddle. Can I go now?” Simon could only afford half a laugh as he redressed her bandages and changed the IV drip on her arm. His stomach dropped as Serenity looped through atmo. “Why are you dumping resources on me, Doc? You know I’m a lost cause.” “I don’t know,” Simon answered quickly. “I guess I’m not the type to take the horse out back and shoot it.” “Bullet is cheaper than all your fancy drugs and I’d be much less trouble to you dead.” Simon shook his head in confusion. “Are you saying you want to die?” “Not saying I want to. I just don’t understand you folk. I attack your crew, break into your weapons, bed your shipmate, countermand your Captain on the field, shield Captain Caddock from your bullets … and I take every opportunity to ignore the doctor’s orders.” “Yes, you really are a gem,” Simon replied, sarcastically. “So why do you throw all your resources at my recovery?” Simon considered Saskia a moment, not knowing how to answer. “I suppose it’s because of Kaylee. When Kaylee sees you, she sees the woman who saved her.” Saskia’s head rolled in disbelief. “The men wanted a sex toy. We needed a mechanic.” “Motive aside, you did save her,” Simon pointed out. “She believes you’re good, and when Kaylee believes, it’s hard to see things any other way.

*~*

Mal made it to the second basement and hit a wall. Something wasn’t right. This map showed two more basements below. He turned the map over in his hand, making sure it was oriented correctly. He’d made that mistake before and it was never as funny when it was actually happening. There was a single door at the end of the well, also not as indicated on the map. Was this even a map of the right building? Was this the day Jayne would take off with Serenity and leave him in the dust. He tried his radio, but he was too deep to get a signal. He checked the map again. There was another stairwell on this level. Perhaps it would take him down. Carefully, he eased open the door and stepped into the hallway. It felt like a submarine on this level – damp, metallic, harshly lit. This was certainly a place to bury someone. Mold and slimy things covered the walls, eating up the lamplight, and making squishy sounds as he stepped across them. His insides turned and his lunch threatened to revisit. “Inara?” he whispered as loudly as he dared. She wouldn’t be on this level. The doors to the rooms were rusting off their hinges. He peered in the first and saw a decomposing skeleton, still dressed in a synthetic gown. He wretched at the callousness of it, and started running toward the second stairwell. He found the electronic door rusted shut, mold growing through the cracks. With all his might, he yanked and pounded on the door. Bits of mold broke off in his hands, releasing spores into the air. He coughed and backed away. Checking the nearest room to make sure it didn’t hold a corpse, he started scavenging for anything he could use for leverage. Suddenly, all the lights on that floor sputtered and died. Mal waited in the darkness a solid minute before they flickered back on, but he was done wasting time here. Stripping a falling sheet of metal from the wall, he charged the door and wedged it open. The door protested the movement, the electricity faltered again, and this time, Mal felt a surge of current go through the metal sheet and into his body. As the world turned to spots, all he could think about was Inara, the corpse, the squishy, moldy floor that would break his fall.

*~*

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