Supper tray in hand, Simon silently slid aside the door to River’s room, glanced inside, and flushed with anger.

Captain Reynolds was in his sister’s room uninvited, bent over her sleeping form. Checking her restraints, no doubt, he thought. Except that Simon had removed them; nothing but weariness held her to her bed. And Simon was sure that if the captain ordered her tied down again, he’d refuse. And if the man reached for the cuffs himself…

He was holding her hand.

“I’m sorry,” he said, almost in a whisper.

River’s eyes were still closed, but a line appeared between her eyes. “Go way,” she said peevishly.

Mal straightened and laid her hand on the mattress.

“It’s too crowded,” she went on. “Get out of the way, I need to talk.” Then her eyes slitted open, and she smiled sleepily… at Mal, not her brother standing just outside the door. “Hey, Captain,” she said in a sunny tone very unlike her, her voice pitched high and musical.

Mal bent back over her. “How are you doing?”

“I’m shiny, Captain. A-OK.” Mal started. Simon recognized it too: Kaylee’s voice. Not a perfect imitation, but very close. “Can’t feel much… below my belly, though. It’s gettin cold.”

Simon hadn’t anesthetized River. There was no reason…

Mal reached for the sheet at River’s feet and drew it up as far as her ribs. “Well…” He seemed to be searching for words. “Well, you just gotta rest. Something’s gonna break down on this boat real soon. Who else I got to fix it?”

“Oh, don’t you worry none. Doc fixed me up… pretty.” She gave Mal another sleepy smile. “He’s nice.”

The tiny hairs on Simon’s forearms rose as he realized the probable origin of the present conversation.

“Don’t go workin too hard on that crush, mei mei,” the captain said. “Doc won’t be with us long.”

Kaylee pulls through, you and your sister are getting off at Whitefall. If she doesn’t, you’ll be getting off a mite sooner.

“You’re nice too.” She stirred slightly, settling back into sleep.

“No I’m not.” The man’s head bowed. “I’m a mean old man.”

“He wasn’t gonna let me die,” she said, as if stating something obvious. “He was just trying to… It’s nobody’s fault, okay? It’s nobody’s fault.” She reached clumsily for his hand. “Just promise me you’ll remember that.”

He took her hand in both of his. When he answered, his voice was rough with emotion. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

He did, Simon thought. He offered us a place, until we could find a better. Now I know why.

“You are a nice man, Captain. You’re always looking after us… You just gotta have faith in people… not lose it in yourself, either. He’s smart. He’ll… figure it out, if you just give im time. It’s nobody’s fault.” She drifted off towards sleep.

As quietly as he could, Simon slid the door shut. But voices still came clearly through the thin partition.

“Little one, am I talkin to Kaylee or River?”

“What’s it matter? One a your girls, anyway.”

When the Captain slid the door aside and looked out, he saw Simon standing at the bottom of the companionway with a tray in his hands. He looked back into the open doorway. “Just checking on her. She’s sleeping, but a little restless.”

Simon nodded. “Thank you, Captain. I’ll try to wake her for dinner. Tomorrow, with your permission, I’d like to escort her to the table.”

Mal gave him an odd look. “That’s fine. Sure everybody be glad to see her up and around.” He stepped past and put a foot on the bottom step. “You look plain wore out. After you feed her, go to your room and get some real sleep. I’ll see to it she’s not alone. Whoever’s with her can call you if need be.” He ascended the stairs.

*

Kaylee came upon Jayne alone in the cargo hold, doing squats with every weight in his collection fixed to the bar across his shoulders. The look in her eye made him uneasy, because he remembered seeing it a lot out the corner of his eye between the night he’d called it quits with her and the day the doc came aboard, but not since. “Jayne. Put that down a minute, will ya?”

“What’s this about?” But he heaved the bar off his shoulders and racked it.

“Dance with me.”

“Kay-kay, you know I don’t dance.”

She slid her arms around his waist. “Call it what you want then.” She rested her head on his chest and swayed softly. “I’m not tryin to get you back in my room, Bear. I just need a little time with a man doesn’t treat me like a leper.”

“He don’t treat you like a leper,” he said, feeling big and awkward as he spread his hands across her back, his elbows out.

“He sure don’t treat me like a girl he…” She sighed. “I spose everybody knows I did it with him, the night the three of us got stupefied together. Only, I don’t remember a minute of it, and after all that waitin, too. I musta been worthless as a rag doll. For sure I didn’t impress him any. We woke up in the engine room nekkid as peeled grapes, and he jumped out of the hammock and grabbed clothes so fast youda thought the ship was on fire again. He hasn’t touched my hand since.” She looked up at him with teary eyes. “Ta ma de, what’s wrong with me? First you, now him. How come I don’t ’serve a man’s love?”

He put his arms around her then. “Told ya. My fault, not yours. You love too big for a man like me, Kay-kay. I could never give back. A month with me would break your heart or leave you emptied out. He ain’t like that. Five minutes watchin him with his sister’ll tell you so.” He gave her a little squeeze. “And don’t think that boy’s heart ain’t in your hand. You got it all backwards, girl. You know what courtin’s like, that place he comes from?”

She nodded miserably. “All fancy ladies in dresses worth a year’s pay, with hands as white and soft as cream butter.”

“Ehhh.” He brushed a lock of chestnut hair off her forehead. “He thinks you’re pretty as sunrise. But in families like his, the only woman a man ever knows is a wife or a Companion. And they build marriages the way you build a house, only it takes longer. Courtin starts before they’re old enough to tup, goin around getting introduced to all the girls from the right families. Years before he’s ready to hitch up, he’s gotta make his pick and get permission from both families, just to call on her. They might see each other regular for a year before they can touch hands or be alone in a room together. First time they touch tongues or see each other in the raw’s their wedding night.”

She stilled. “So I’m damaged goods.”

He gently bumped the heel of his hand to the side of her head. “Women. He knows things are different for girls out here. But he’s still got a lifetime of upbringin tells him he treated you shabby, ruttin with you after a night a drinkin, like… well, like me. He’s keepin his distance cause he’s ashamed of himself, and he can’t believe you could forgive him if you figured it out.”

Her eyes widened in a way that made his heart leap. “He said that?”

“He didn’t have to. I got eyes. I see him lookin at ya like a starvin man anytime your back’s turned.” He rocked a little, making her move with him and relax. “Be different if you was just a floozy lookin for a good time, somethin he took up with after downin a skinful. He’d be embarrassed, plenty, but not all eat up over it. It’s cause he’s got bigger ideas for you, Kaylee Frye.”

“So he needs to court me, ask permission first, all that? I can’t just wait around till he talks to Pa. I haven’t been home since he came aboard. What am I gonna do?”

“I got an idea. Give me some time to put it together.” He let go of her, turned her towards the door, and smacked her rump gently. When she reached the opening, he said, “Kay-kay.”

She turned to him, a question in her eyes.

“About that night you two…” He paused for a breath and a second thought. “Well, he don’t remember it either. You’d both be startin fresh. Like it never happened.”

*

With Serenity in the dirt for a second day and conducting no ship’s business, the crew had more free time than usual, and morale had taken a sudden lift with the ship engaged in a paying job and their crazy little mascot finally up and around. The period after supper found most of them playing ferretball in the cargo bay, which meant mostly running back and forth with the ball under the big steel hoop and shouting to one another. As usual, no one was keeping score, since scoring rules changed from contest to contest and were seldom agreed on anyway; winning or losing by points wasn’t what ferretball was about.

River was in the thick of it, though no one was ever sure which side she was on, since she kept switching teams. But no one grudged her the sport or the exercise. She seemed to grasp the rules of play by intuition, which was kind of fitting since they made no sense. And once she got the ball there was no stopping her. She bounced and spun and ducked and wove her way through the tightest defense, delivering the ball to the hoop time and time again. Once, she heaved the ball at the hoop from the other end of the bay, and put it through without touching the sides. It was just as her brother had said: crazy or not, anything she set out to learn came natural to her as breathing.

She tried another long throw, but this time, the Shepherd managed to jump up, stretch out a hand, and knock the ball away with a grunt. She screeched and leaped at him, hands raised. Before anyone could react, she’d wrapped arms around the old man’s waist and bobbed up and down with him. “Good save, preacher man! We got em on the run now!” She grinned and chased after the ball uncontested, oblivious to the sudden silence while everyone’s hearts started back up.

Later, Wash and Book were sitting in the little sitting area off the galley, waiting their turn at the shower with towels around their necks. Wash said to no one in particular, “I can’t make up my mind. Do you think she’s different? Still loopy, mind you, but different.”

“She’s still our babbling River,” the Shepherd put in. “Terrible pun, I know. But it seems to me she’s easier to understand.”

“Or maybe we’re all going crazy, so she seems to make sense now.”

Jayne appeared, towel and shaving kit in hand. “Anybody in the shower?”

“Mal, I think.”

“Meanin you think it’s Mal in the shower, or you think somebody’s in the shower and it’s probly Mal?”

“You know, the more time you spend with River, the more you sound like her.”

“Just in no mood for surprises. Damn latch on the shower door is broke again. You’d think you could fix it so’s it stayed fixed.”

“The screws keep working loose, and when they fall out, Kaylee can never find them. There aren’t any left in stores. My guess is the water recycling tank is full of them.”

“Well, then, how bout a gorram curtain between the stall and the changing bench, at least? I walked in on your wife yesterday, and my beard’ll go gray fore I convince her I didn’t hear the water runnin.”

The shower room door opened, dispensing a wisp of steam as Mal stepped out. Wash leaned back. “One of you guys go ahead. I’m waiting for someone.”

Jayne looked at the Shepherd. “High card?”

“Go ahead,” the older man said. “I’m in no hurry.”

A moment after the door shut behind him, River appeared from the forward passage. She didn’t look like she’d come for a shower, Wash thought. In fact...

He nudged the Shepherd and pointed with his chin. Instead of one of the dresses Simon had bought her, River was dressed in a long-sleeved shirt over a coverall with cutoff sleeves, an outfit he was almost certain belonged to Kaylee. “Hey. How’s our star player? Or somebody’s star player, anyway.”

“All shiny,” she said with a lilt in her voice and a sunny smile. She dropped into the couch next to Wash, opposite the Shepherd. “Kaylee filters in place and active, chaos held at bay.”

“That could use some explaining,” the Shepherd said. “What’s Kaylee got to do with this?”

“My input filters are gone, cut away, burned away,” she said, sounding rather more like River for a moment. “Can’t let my girl get overloaded, or I’ll break down for sure. Kaylee’s filters are an acceptably close analogue, best fit on the ship. Easiest to copy and modify, many points of commonality.”

Book nodded. “Because you’re friends.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, no, Shepherd,” she said, and Wash and Book traded a glance, because the girl’s voice was a close imitation of Kaylee’s again. “We’re friends because we’re alike as two peas in a pod. Both know things we can’t know, things we can’t explain. She hears Serenity talkin to her, I hear everybody else. We both feel sudden fears we don’t like talkin about, and we both wear our feelings out where everybody can see em, like clothes. No underwear.”

“I hope that’s a metaphorical statement.”

She went on as if she hadn’t heard. “Same pas, too.”

“River,” the Shepherd said, “Kaylee’s father is a farmer and a mechanic. Yours is a shipping magnate.”

“What they do isn’t what they are,” she said dismissively. “They love their little girls, want to keep them home safe forever, but the wide world called, and they couldn’t say no.” She frowned. “Some dissonance. Sometimes get very un-sisterly thoughts. Did you know Simon sleeps shirtless? A girl shouldn’t look at her brother in his jammies and think about running her tongue all over him. Or wonder how his tongue would feel, in her mouth or-”

The Shepherd reached across Wash and clapped a hand over River’s mouth. “We get the picture.”

With the Shepherd’s forearm under his chin, Wash added, “And a vivid picture it is, too.”

As Book dropped his hand, she gave Wash a heavy-lidded smile that made his skin prickle; it was a look he often woke up to on his wife’s face after a night of lovemaking, the one that told him she was ready to start all over again. “Second best fit would have been Zoë. Figure the Wash temptation rating at Saffron times root two.” Then she reached up and mussed Wash’s hair roughly, rearranging it into clusters of damp spikes all over his head. “I always wanted to do that.”

“I’m afraid to ask which ‘I’ we’re talking about here. Or which ‘that.’”

She nodded gravely. “Equal but differently horrible repercussions.” Then the smile broke out again. “You forgot your soap. How you gonna wash, Wash?”

He shifted. “Uh, Zoë’s bringing it.”

“But she thinks you brought it. Should I tell her?”

The pilot frowned. “How? Implant a suggestion?”

She rolled her eyes at him and stood. She flicked one of the toggles on the wall intercom. “Hey, Zoë.”

“Kaylee?”

“River. Wash left the soap on the washbasin in your room. Don’t forget to pick it up when you come up.” She released it, and looked to the door to the shower. “He’s had long enough.”

She marched to the shower door, threw it open, and shouted, “BEEEF!” In a voice like the lowing of a cow. From inside the cubicle, Jayne roared, and she shut the door. With a satisfied smirk, she headed for the aft passage. “Sketchbook.”

When she’d disappeared through the passage, Wash turned to the Shepherd. “This is an improvement, right?”

“Strange and mischievous is better than strange and violent, I think. Though one might wonder how she knew where you left your soap. And she found your wife on the intercom first try. Still…”

"Yeah. An improvement, I guess. Unless her new notions of wacky fun include itch powder in the suits, or rigging the grav to cut out when we start hard burn.” They watched the shower door open partway and Jayne stick his head out, looking thoroughly pissed with water dripping from his beard. “Could be worse, I suppose. If Kaylee starts thinking she’s River, this boat’s never gonna lift again.”

*

“Where are you headed after you drop this off, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Mal and Sessions stood at the top of Serenity’s ramp, watching their respective crews at work. Sessions’ men had just offloaded a big cryo container from a wheeled flatbed vehicle to the hold, and Jayne and Zoë were securing it to the floor. “Don’t mind you askin, but I don’t have much answer. A short stop at Sihnon to let off a passenger, then wherever work takes us.”

Sessions lowered his voice. “I have a proposition, one I expect you’ll jump at if you hear it out. I know three men need passage to Boros.”

“Who can’t travel by commercial liner, I suppose.” The refusal was already on Mal’s lips. He had no intention of turning his ship into a shuttle service for conspirators and revolutionaries. “Boros is the opposite direction.”

“They’re not ready to leave yet. You’d be coming back for them.” The man held his eyes. “And they’re hiding, right enough, but from competitors, not the authorities. Some rich businessman and his associates working on a trade deal. They don’t want any details to leak out before it’s sewed up, hence the secrecy. I imagine when he’s at home he has dinner with Alliance officials every night. He’s no risk to you.”

Mal glanced up at the steel box. “How’d they get stranded? Come on the ship brought this?”

“No. He’s a regular customer of mine. I brought them on my ship.”

“Why don’t you take him to Boros then?”

“Schedule conflicts. This part of their deal is concluding quicker than they’d planned, and they need to move soon to sew it up. But I’m waiting for a man here, on business you don’t want to know about, and I can’t be somewhere else when he arrives.”

Mal nodded. “We can do business, maybe. What sort of payment do they offer?”

Sessions lowered his voice further. “He’s offering to find you a buyer for the Lassiter.”

“Wuh de tyen, ah,” he said softly, flabbergasted enough to invoke a Deity he denied, if only in Mandarin. “How do you know about that? How does he?”

Sessions raised his eyebrows. “I told him. As for how I know, well, news of the theft was all over the Cortex. And I’m afraid the fences you contacted could have kept the fact a little closer, but it isn’t every day they get offered something like that. It was just a matter of being the right person asking the right questions in the right places.” He leaned closer. “I think I’m the first to figure it out, but others are sure to follow. I’d unload it quick as I could if I were you, even if I had to throw it away. It’s nothing but a danger to you if you can’t sell it. And I’m guessing this man could get you the price of a brand-new ship for it.”

Mal thought about that. There was a lot of sentiment, and not just his, attached to the bucket of bolts they called home; he didn’t think any of them would give it up easily. But that kind of money would fix her up new, with a big cash cushion to see them through until business picked up again. No doubt Jayne would want it portioned out so he could spend his share on whores, but Mal was the one who determined profits and expenses from their takes, and he wasn’t about to see this chance thrown away so the big merc could enjoy a month of debauchery. “How would you work it?”

“Well, he’d have to look it over, of course, maybe even put it on capture to show around and verify its authenticity. And he’d need a way to get in touch quickly once he has a buyer. Payment and transfer details might be difficult to work out, with buyer and seller at opposite ends of the ‘Verse and neither easy to find, but he’s a resourceful man.”

He took a breath. “Be easier if we just gave him the Lassiter to sell for us, dontcha think?”

Sessions raised his eyebrows. “That’s a lot of trust.”

“Mr. Sessions, I was raised a rancher. I can drive a good bargain on feed and livestock, and I’m getting a feel for trade in small goods and sundries that keep a little boat like ours flyin. Priceless artifacts are out of my experience. An unscrupulous man could cheat me ten times over and I’d never know it. Either I can trust this man or I’m throwin it away anyhow. Can I trust him?”

The man nodded slowly. “Well, if you’ll take my word on it, yes. Maybe more than you can trust me, being I sometimes work for shady characters, and they sometimes give me instructions that make me a little uneasy. But you can leave your treasure with this fellow, I think. I’ve never known him to play any man false in a deal, and I’m sure even the Lassiter isn’t worth enough to tempt him.”

“All right, then. Let’s cut to it. What does he really want from us? He’s offering a lot for a ride to Boros, on the sly or no.”

Sessions nodded again. “You’re right. He does want something else.” He glanced over at the cryo box. Simon was checking its telltales, nodding in satisfaction. “See, I’ve got standing instructions from him to keep an eye out for that boy. He wants you to leave the good doctor and his sister with him until you come back for them all.”

“What kind of…” For once, his Mandarin failed him. “What is he playing at?”

The man turned back to him. “I said my passenger was a respected businessman, but that’s not all he is. I told you I was hired by the Underground to get that girl out. He’s the one hired me.”

*

Kaylee sighed under the touch of the brush in River’s hands as the girl drew it down her hair. “Don’t know exactly why, but it seems like hair brushin’s about the most comfort one woman can give another. Well, that ain’t romantic in nature.”

“Inara loves brushing your hair,” River said, gathering a handful of it behind Kaylee’s neck and drawing the bristles over it. “It reminds her of life in the Chapter House. And she just plain likes you. And feels sorry for you. A little.”

Kaylee started to turn, but stopped. “Sorry for me?”

The brush moved smoothly down her back. “She knows you envy her lifestyle, and wonder what it would be like. But she’s certain you could never be a Companion.”

She stared straight ahead, her good feeling melting away. “No looks for it, I suppose.”

She felt a tug on her hair. “Companions aren’t all exotic beauties like Nandi or Inara. Some of the most in-demand are so plain we’d look like goddesses next to them. It’s all in the training, and the attitude. And that’s where she thinks you’d fall short. A Companion has to be able to fall in love and back out as easy as breathing. She doesn’t think you could ever learn to let go of love that easy.” The brush resumed its gentle motion. “If you ask me, that girl deserves our pity. Being trained to gather love and put it aside took something out of her. Finding out there was a man whose love she couldn’t let go of busted her up pretty bad. That’s why she’s leaving, you know.”

It was strange, Kaylee thought, how easy River’s changed voice and manner were to get used to, kind of like talking to herself. It made her want to talk about things with the dark-haired little beauty that she usually kept close. “I s’pose you can read me like that too.” It wasn’t quite a question, because she wasn’t sure she wanted an answer.

“Harder now that I’m identifying with you. People never really know themselves.” The brush paused, then resumed. “Being inside you is like being in this bright and airy mansion with an inviting façade and beautiful views out every window. But the floor plan isn’t as simple as it seems from the outside. There are little-used sections deep inside where sunlight never touches, where you leave tracks in the dust when you visit. And there are doors you never open, doors that quicken your steps as you pass by.”

Kaylee stopped breathing.

River’s hand stroked her head, alternating with the brush. “No one aboard questions why violence steals your senses, not even the Shepherd or Inara. They just assume you’re a stranger to it. None of them suspects what you’ve witnessed, what’s been visited on you.” She felt a finger at her cheek, brushing away a tear she hadn’t known she’d shed. “And I’ll die before I tell, don’t you fret about that.”

Abruptly the girl’s hands drew back. “The man…”

Kaylee turned, looked up. River was pressing the heel of one hand to her temple, her head swaying slightly. “He wants… No, that’s not…Is it really him?”

The brush clattered to the floor.

“He’s leaving. Simon’s leaving the ship.”

*

“You don’t need to do this,” Captain Reynolds said again. “Things are moving mighty fast for my comfort. There are damn few once-in-a-lifetime offers in this world. A man’s tryin to hurry you into a deal, it’s usually a bad one.”

“This man and his employer got my sister out of the Academy.” Simon looked out the cargo door at the truck, and at Sessions leaning against it as if he could stand there all day waiting for an answer. “The money might have come from me, but it was their knowledge and contacts that made it happen. I feel as if I owe them something.”

“We’ll be out of touch for a week or more. I’ll remind you that you nearly got killed in less than a day, the last time you went missing.”

“If you ordered me to stay aboard, I would.” Simon met the captain’s eyes. “And I’m grateful that you didn’t. You’re not worried he’ll turn me in, are you?”

“No, I’m worried about whatever plans he has for you that I can’t imagine. If he just wanted to meet you, it was a lot easier done sometime before he got her free, on Osiris, instead of out here at the back end of beyond.”

“Perhaps he wanted to meet the girl he saved.”

“Then he’s going to be right disappointed. I told Sessions she was in no shape to leave the ship. He didn’t say how his client took the news, but I doubt he was happy about it. I think Sessions took our part in that, and quieted him some.”

“All the more reason not to keep him waiting.” He turned into the ship to pick up his belongings and say his goodbyes.

He tried to keep the farewells short; he didn’t want anyone thinking he was afraid he’d never see them again. Wash and Zoë seemed of like mind, or perhaps they were just impatient to be alone again; he thought he might have interrupted something when he stepped onto the bridge. Book had looked grave, warned him to keep his courage and his wits, and promised to pray for him. Inara had touched his head, smiling, and had told him to think of the coming week as an adventure. All of them had promised to look after River.

Jayne had shaken his head and scowled. “I think this whole deal is eda tuo da bien. Steamin and stinky. I’d give ya that little target pistol, and a knife too, but I’m sure they’ll search you. Just listen to im and nod your head, but don’t tell him anything you don’t have to, and don’t make any promises.” He hadn’t offered to shake hands, and when Simon had offered his, the big man had batted it away. “That’s for strangers when they meet, and friends when they don’t think they’ll see each other again. We’ll see you in about ten days.”

Kaylee had wrung the rag in her hands. “I’m sure everything’ll be fine. But it’s… You… I’m just gonna miss you something fierce, is all.”

Impulsively, he’d leaned forward to brush her lips with his, and turned quickly away. “I’ll miss you, too.” He dared not say more; he had no right.

“Simon Tam,” she’d said, with uncharacteristic steel in her voice. He’d turned back to see her staring at him, arms folded, like a teacher regarding a lazy pupil. “There’s not another man in the world I’d take that dry little peck from as a token of love. I’m expectin a better from you someday.”

He’d left the lounge, face flaming, and gone aft to the passenger dorm. The door to his sister’s room was open, and she was sitting cross-legged on the bed with a pad in her lap, writing. “I already know. I wish I were going with you. But I’m sure I’d have to fight my way off the ship, and besides, I may be needed here.” She tore the page off and, with a series of skillful motions, folded it into a small sealed package. “This is for him. But it’s in your keeping. Read it after you meet, and decide whether to give it to him.” She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. “Remember. After you meet him. Make up your mind about him first.”

He knew better than to ask for an explanation, sure that any she’d give would just confuse him further. “I will.” He picked up his bag and a pack from his room, and returned to the hold. He accepted a brief handshake from the captain, and a padded bag containing the ancient laser pistol. Then, shoulders squared, he marched down the ramp.

The wheeled vehicle they’d brought the cargo on had an enclosed passenger cab. Simon sat in the front seat next to Sessions, who drove, with the other two men riding in back. “Why didn’t you use this the first time? It’s much quieter than the sled you used.”

“It leaves tracks. That won’t matter now, but it might have at our first meet.”

They’d hardly got out of sight of the ship before the sound of the drive pods winding up filled the little valley. The engine noise suddenly changed to a roar, and the truck stopped as they all looked back to watch Serenity pop up from among the crags, a pillow of dust rising beneath it, and leap into the sky.

“Good pilot,” Sessions remarked. “Not sparing the fuel, either. Must be in a hurry.”

“They take their work seriously. And there’s a lot of money waiting for them at the end of the trip.”

Sessions started the truck back up. “And maybe they’re not in a hurry to get there so much as they’re in a hurry to get back. The crew I met seem right fond of you.”

“I’ve been tending their hurts for a year now,” he said offhand. “I suppose that creates a certain feeling of obligation on their part.”

Sessions gave him a hooded look. “You fell into a bit of luck when you picked that ship to run away on, I’m thinking. Change of subject. How’s your sister?”

“Better. She had a bad spell, the worst ever. But it’s passed, and now she seems almost normal.”

The agent nodded. “He’ll be glad to hear that. I described that fit of hers to him, and I thought he was going to smash something.”

“Mr. Sessions, who is he?”

The man shrugged as the truck emerged from the islands of rock onto the sandy plain. “I’ve worked for him, off and on, for years. I have a name for him, but I’m sure it’s not his real one. This was the first time I did a legitimate job for him.” He turned to Simon with eyebrows raised. “Sure didn’t take long for his dealings to turn twisty again.” He turned his attention back to the desert in front of him. “Or are you asking me what sort of man you’re dealing with, what he’s up to?”

“I suppose I was.”

“Well, I’m used to taking orders from people who give me damn little by way of explanation. This one’s no exception. But… one of my people was killed getting your sister out.”

“I’m sorry.”

Sessions waved a hand in acknowledgement. “When he found out, he arranged a trust fund that set that man’s wife and daughter for life. Money doesn’t fix everything, of course, but he did what he could. He’s no one you’d be ashamed to know, young Tam.”

*

Kaylee drifted down the forward companionway leading to the passenger dorms, the lounge, and the infirmary. She aimed to check on River, but she also had some unfocused notions about looking in on the sickbay to make sure everything was tidy. She thought, after she saw to River, that she might just slide open the door to Simon’s room and look in from the passage. She certainly wouldn’t step inside, or lay hands on his things, and most especially wasn’t going to lay down on his bed. Hopefully.

You’ve gone daft, she told herself. We’ve barely cleared orbit and you’re mooning after him already. It’s not like you’d be seeing any more of him if he was here; he’s been avoiding you like a poxy whore. Even if Jayne’s right about why, it’s downright wearing.

She sighed as her foot touched the deck. It’s just knowing he’s gone.

Zoë and Inara were in the lounge, sitting side by side on the big couch. That was unusual enough to pull Kaylee out of her fog. The ship’s mate and their goodwill ambassador weren’t unfriendly, but there was something between them that kept them from drawing close. She guessed that that ‘something’ had a favorite old pair of cotton pants shrunk up right nice from many washings.

They were close now, though, bumping shoulders and hips as they smiled over a sheet of paper they were both holding. Inara spotted Kaylee and gestured her over. “Look at this. River must have left it on the table. It’s incredible.”

“A real masterpiece.” Zoë’s smile was cool as usual, but mischief lit up her eyes and voice. “I think we should hang it on a wall somewhere.”

As Kaylee drew close, Inara turned the page around for her to see. She took a glance and snorted.

It was a pencil drawing, too detailed to be called a sketch. River’s work, for sure. It was Jayne, naked in the shower. He was turned sideways, standing on one foot, the other leg being raised to figleaf himself. One hand was reaching for his man parts, and the other toward the artist palm-first in a gesture of denial. He had lather on his cheek, half through a shave. His eyes and mouth were wide open, and you could tell he was yelling fit to make the walls quiver.

Inara set it on the low table in front of the couch, and the three women leaned over it. “I wonder how he’s going to pay her back for this. Kaylee, you have got to find a way to fix that door.”

“I wonder how she remembered so much detail from just a four-second peek,” Zoë said. “Doesn’t seem possible. He does have a handsome ass, doesn’t he? Not the best I’ve seen, but handsome.” She put a forefinger to the paper, touching a triangular mark on Jayne’s side just below the ribs. “What do you suppose this is? A birthmark, maybe? Or a scar?”

Kaylee was taking in the picture like it was a bowl of fresh strawberries. “Knife burn,” she said absently.

“What?”

“Uh… you know, like when you get wounded, a cut or a bullet hole or some such, and you got no first aid, so you heat up the end of a knife and press it to the wound, sort of seal it up. You never done that, Zoë?”

Zoë looked at her carefully. “I have, though not to my own hide. You learn that trick growing up on a farm?”

“Oh, read it or some such. I don’t remember.”

“Well,” Inara said, giving her a secret smile, “I have to sort through prospects at Halifax. Guard that with your lives, you two.”

“I’m thinking River will want this back,” Zoë said, rising as well. “Looks like she went sheep-brained and left it behind, pencil and all.”

“I’m headed that way.” Kaylee picked up the pencil, a type used for writing rather than an artist’s tool. “I’ll see she gets it.”

After the others left, she looked at the drawing for a few moments more. Then she carefully erased the knife burn and redrew it a bit further down, just above the hip.

*

After half a day of travel across the flat wasteland, they saw buildings above the shimmering horizon ahead: a settlement. The truck drew closer, and Simon saw that they were approaching a market town built around a rough landing field. All the structures were made of rammed earth or adobe the color of the sand all about, and none more than two stories tall. On the field sat a single ship, smaller than Serenity and much more aerodynamic. “Yours?”

Sessions nodded. “She’s fast, and got decent range as long as you’re not carrying much. Six or seven’s about her limit.” They passed a checkpoint of some sort, a man in coveralls with an assault rifle, and Simon tensed, but Sessions just waved through the window and rolled by. The truck entered a street lined with warehouses. “Your ship’s no garbage scow either, looks notwithstanding. Didn’t know those old Fireflys had it in them.”

“The pilot and mechanic have made some modifications, as I understand it. They both say the model has a lot of unused potential.”

The truck pulled up to a warehouse and stopped. Sessions reached for the door handle. “Guess my offworld client knows ships better than I do. He was mighty pleased to hear I’d signed yours to handle his cargo. Called it ‘exciting news.’” He slid out of the cab. “This way.”

Sessions led him into the building, the other two men at the trail, navigating among stacked crates to an open stairway at the rear of the building. Simon looked up, and saw a broad landing ending at a closed door.

“Wait here,” Sessions said to the other two, and beckoned him up the stairs. They reached the door at the top landing, and the agent stood aside. “He wants to see you alone.”

Seems Jayne could have loaned me the knife and gun after all, Simon thought. He gathered his composure, took a deep breath, stiffened his spine, and entered.

It wasn’t enough. The man was standing with his back to the door, looking out the window, but Simon recognized him instantly. His senses dimmed as the man turned toward him, and from far away, he heard his own voice. “Father.”