The doctor shifted nervously from one foot to the other.
"Calm down," the general said softly, "You are representing the Alliance; we have to present a strong face."
"I know, I know" the doctor snapped "It's just… these two…"
"I know," said the general grimly, "but they get results."
"I'd still prefer an Alliance Operative," said the doctor quietly, "Independent contractors are too maverick for my liking."
The doors in front of them slid open. Two men in simple grey suits stepped into the corridor. Their expressions were bland.
"Gentlemen," said the general, giving his most formal salute. The two men did not respond. The doctor held out a tentative hand:
"I am Dr. Hitchens, mister…"
"You can dispense with the pleasantries, doctor," said the man on his right, "You know why we are here."
"Yes… certainly," said the doctor, "This way, please."
The general and the doctor turned and led the way down the corridor. At the far end was a thick, lead-panelled door with a combination lock. A series of other doors followed, each heavier and more elaborately locked than the one before.
"We were quite surprised to receive your request," said the doctor as he opened another door, "We wrote this subject off as a dud years ago: the treatments all but crippled it."
"I suppose it wasn't a total loss," he continued, speaking more to himself, "A lot of what we learned from this one was successfully used by the team who worked on the R. Tam sessions."
"We are aware of this subject's history," said one of the men curtly.
"Did you work on the R. Tam sessions, doctor?" his companion asked.
"No… no," the doctor said with a shake of his head, "I asked to be transferred as soon as I heard about the progress they were making but I couldn't get permission. Such a shame; it sounded fascinating.
"Here we are," he said, opening the last door. It was six inches thick and was opened by turning a great wheel set in its face.
The room beyond was tiny and dimly lit. A sturdy chair of dark metal had been built into the far wall. A great deal of machinery was arranged around it, dwarfing the figure sat hunched over on the chair. Dozens of tubes and wires ran from the machines, connected to its elbows, knees, spine and head.
"Subject shi-yi eleven," said the doctor, "We called it the Incubus."
"Can it… hear us?" one of the men in suits asked.
"No," said the doctor firmly, "It's under heavy sedation. It has been for years."
"Wake it," one of the suited men ordered.
The doctor glanced at the general. The general gave him a curt nod. The doctor crossed the room. Wiping the thin film of dust from the keyboard, he activated the console beside the chair.
Glancing over, he saw one of the men in suits move to stand beside the seated figure. The Incubus looked even paler next to another person; its hairless skin was almost translucent, criss-crossed with vivid blue veins. The doctor repressed a shudder as the man reached out and laid a bright blue hand on the Incubus's shoulder; the doctor was not sure which one he felt sorrier for.
"There we are," he said, entering the appropriate command sequence "It can hear you now but I'm still blocking all its higher functions."
The Hand of Blue knelt down so that his mouth was level with the Incubus's shrivelled ear.
"Can you hear me, shi-yi eleven?" he asked. The Incubus took a deep, throaty breath:
"Huh-huh"
"Shi-yi eleven," said the Hand of Blue, "When I give you the order, you are going to kill a girl. Her name is River Tam. Do you understand?"
Very slowly, the Incubus raised its head. Pale lids rose from sightless eyes.
"Huh-huh"
Take my love, take my land
Take me where I cannot stand
I don't care, I'm still free
You can't take the sky from me
Take me out to the black
Tell them I ain't comin' back
Burn the land and boil the sea
You can't take the sky from me
There's no place I can be
Since I found Serenity
But you can't take the sky from me...
If I Should Die Before I Wake
Chapter 1
"Pornography"
Zoe stared blankly.
"You wanna run that by me again, sir?" she said.
"Pornography," Mal repeated, slapping the container beside him, "Genuine erotic literature captured on micro-circuitry for the delectation of the paying customer."
"Just how much of this 'literature' is in there?" said Simon eyeing the crate warily.
"About two thousand magazines," said Mal, "in this one."
The crew considered the black cube that lay beside Mal on the floor of the cargo bay: it was four feet high and the same again across.
"This one?" said Wash, "Just how many of these are there?"
"There's another nineteen on the truck," said Mal, gesturing down the ramp.
For a moment, no one spoke.
"That's… an awful lot of porno, cap'n," said Kaylee. Several of the others nodded.
"You'll all be blind in three days."
The crew turned. Inara was descending the stairs to the cargo bay, her silk cape trailing through the grease and the dirt.
"Actually, medically speaking, that's not true," said Simon. The others stared at him. He blushed.
"Not that I've conducted any research or anything…" he murmured, trailing off into silence.
"Well, I can't say I expected you to approve of this cargo," said Mal, turning back to Inara, "I guess stuff like this takes trade away from you honest workin' women."
"Yes, the Guild has outlawed pornography," Inara said, adopting a dignified attitude, "but mostly to protect the women who get caught up in the trade; they're often treated little better than slaves."
Mal shrugged.
"So, it's illegal and exploitative, but what ain't in this 'verse? I'd watch out Shepherd; today's she's moralizing, tomorrow she might look to takin' over the Bible thumpin' and then where'll you be?"
"Well, I can't say I approve of the cargo either," Book replied, "but I do prefer this kind of work to some of the other jobs you have taken."
"Me too," said Mal "And there's no denyin' that this a good job: the dealer will pay us an extremely generous rate to transport all this to Epiales.
"It's one of the larger gas giants. Got a lot of mining stations there, siphoning the gas off, refining it and shipping it back to the Core. It's several days hard burn from anywhere civilized. Miners can be stuck out there for months at a time.
"Consequently, there's a lot of frustrated men with a lot of free time on their hands. Which is where this stuff," Mal slapped the container again, "comes in."
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Jayne had slipped his hand into the container and was trying to remove one of the magazines. Mal raised the lid and slammed it down hard on Jayne's fingers. Jayne swore and drew his hand back sharply.
"Sorry Jayne," said Mal, as the others laughed, "but this ain't for crew use. I didn't agree to deliver used goods."
"So," he said, turning back to Inara, "if our new chief of public morals has no objections, we'll begin loadin' up."
"Actually I don't have any objections," Inara sniffed, "The mine-owning families of Epiales are very respectable. I was recently contacted about engaging the eldest son of the Drake family as a client. I can easily re-arrange my schedule to meet him while you unload."
"Drake? Well, this is a happy coincidence!" said Mal, "They own the station we're deliverin' to.
"Now that's all settled," he said, "Let's load it up, people, before the miners start gettin' frisky with each other."