Spartan's Quest -- Chapter Four
Author owns no rights to Firefly, and receives no money for his work. No infringement is intended.
--
"This is the place," Jayne said quietly. River eyed the building with distrust.
It was a ramshackle three story house, one that on Earth-that-was would have been known as a Brownstone.
"Not much to look at," she finally commented.
"No," Jayne agreed. "Tomas was never one to put on airs," he chuckled.
"Tomas?"
"Tomas Benito Salazar," Jayne nodded. "He was a conquistador, on Earth. No telling what he's up to, these days. Last time I saw him, he was 'between jobs'."
"Sounds like an interesting sort," River smiled.
"And a charmer," he winked. "Be prepared."
They entered the foyer of the great house, and rang the buzzer. After a minute, they rang again.
"Yes, yes, I'm coming. Have the patience to be. . ." the door opened, and the speaker stopped, eyeing the man at the door.
"Janos?"
"Hello, Tomas," Jayne smiled. "Long time."
"Janos, my brother!" Tomas embraced the larger man in a fierce hug. "Come in, come in. And who," he spied River, "is this lovely creature by your side?" River colored a bit at that.
"Tomas this is River. My Lady, this is Tomas Salazar, a scoundrel, if ever there was one."
"Don't listen to him, my dear," Salazar smiled, taking her hand, and pressing it to his lips. "He has always been a jealous sort."
"And with good reason, I'm sure," River smiled, and Salazar beamed.
"So, what brings you to see. . .where are my manners? Come into the study, and I'll fetch us some tea." He led them into a small room lined with maps and books. It smelled of old leather, and reminded River of Janos' own study. Salazar rang a small bell, and in an instant, a middle aged woman in the uniform of a cook appeared.
"Minet, my dear, please, a pot of tea and three cups."
"Right away, sir," the woman nodded, and retreated.
The three exchanged an easy banter until the tea was brought. Salazar dismissed the servant, and poured them each a cup, then settled comfortably into his chair.
"So, Janos," Tomas remarked. "What have you heard of Neethos? I have not seen him in ages."
"Nor have I," Jayne managed to hide his disappointment. "I had heard, through the grapevine, mind you, that he was involved in some sort of experiment with the Alliance, but doing what I don't know."
"Alliance?" Tomas frowned. "I can't imagine Neethos. . .well, perhaps I can," he amended. "He was always on about finding a way to make an end to war and violence. Some of that would dovetail nicely with the propaganda the Alliance feeds the masses."
"It would," Jayne nodded.
"I never understood that man's desire," Tomas shook his head sadly. "You cannot make people anything other than what they are, you know."
"That is true, my old friend. Were it possible, it would have been done long ago."
"There was some interesting gossip, recently," Tomas mused, looking away. "In fact, that is why I asked about Neethos," he turned to face Jayne again. "On your very own world, in fact. A meteor struck, I believe. Left a gaping hole. Now some theorists are claiming it was the site of some ultra secret weapons facility. Suffered a terrible accident."
"When was this?" Jayne looked puzzled. "Prim said nothing of this to me, and I spoke to him just days ago." River decided that Janos would have made a fine actor.
"Oh, it was some time back," Tomas waved it away. "Months ago, I daresay. But the interesting part of the tale," Tomas leaned forward, eyes glinting, "was that Neethos was involved with that."
"Indeed?" Jayne asked. "A weapons project? That doesn't sound like Neethos."
"Exactly what I said!" Tomas pounded his desk so hard that River started. "Sorry my dear," he murmured apologetically. "Forget my own strength sometimes. But that was what I said," he continued.
"I would need more than a rumor to believe such of Neethos," Jayne scoffed. "The very idea is ridiculous."
"Well, it was a very good source," Tomas said, head cocked slightly to one side. "Never wrong before, actually."
"Might I inquire into this source?" Jayne asked, leaning forward. "I would like to ask them myself, if they have news of Neethos. Especially something this. . .far fetched, let us say."
"Well," Tomas hedged. "Normally I don't reveal my sources, of course," he smiled at River. "However, as it is you, and since they were talking about your old teacher, I think I can make an exception. I do ask," he pointed, "that you not reveal how you got the information, or the contact name, mind you." He scribbled for a minute on a slip of paper, and handed it to Jayne.
"Non-brethren, mind you," Tomas placed a finger beside his nose, and glanced at River. "They know him as Quentin Darwood."
"She is aware, Tomas," Jayne said with a smile. He looked at the name, and was stunned. He had to make himself look up and smile. He continued a friendly banner for another thirty minutes. Finally, he could wait no longer.
"Tomas, I thank you for the company, and the tea," he stood. "It has been good to see, old friend. I would like, however, to see about this, if you don't mind. I will try and return, if I can, though I can't promise that."
"Certainly, my boy, certainly," Tomas smiled endearingly at River. "Make sure he behaves himself, Lady River," he winked. "He's a very naughty boy at times," he laughed.
"I will keep one eye firmly upon him at all times," River smiled. The couple left the house, walking slowly in the general direction of the City Square.
"Well?" River asked. She knew that something was wrong.
"Was he telling the truth, you think?" Jayne asked, ignoring her question.
"I sensed no lies," she told him. "But, with someone like that. . ."
"Yes," he nodded. "Would he have any way of knowing who you are?"
"Possibly," River admitted. "My parents are well known, and there was the small matter of a reward for my capture. Why?" Jayne handed her the paper. She took it, and read. . .
"My mother?"
--
"So, that's what Mister Solson had to tell us," Neera finished. The 'gang' was gathered around the table in the galley.
"Well, I can't say as I'm shocked to find out that Badger was involved in the shippin' end o' things. Interesting that Solson was 'brokering' investors into this," Mal mused. "I thought that this, Neethos, was one of your older. . .folks," he finished lamely.
"He was," Jerl McCann nodded. "No one, even Janos, knew how old he was. Neethos never told him."
"Man that old," Mal pondered, "looks like he'd o' made a fortune of his own, over that long a stretch o' years."
"Not all have been as. . .successful, as Lord Janos was," Neera said quietly. "And, you saw the Facility, Mal. It would take a considerable amount to finance an operation like that."
"But how do you go about gettin' financin' for an operation like that?" Mal asked of no one in particular. "I mean, I guess you can offer the investors free rental on the government trained psychic assassins, but looks like that would be a deal breaker for some folk."
"Not all of us were being trained like that, Captain," Amanda Paine spoke softly. "Many of us were simply being experimented on."
"I'm sorry, Amanda," Mal said contritely. "I got used to River being here, and we used to call her that, in fact she used it herself. Made us all laugh about it. Stead o' crying."
"It's all right, Captain," Amanda smiled. "Some of us were being trained that way. But the program had expanded by the time we came along. I was being 'trained' to gather intelligence. To read people for information."
"About what?" Mal asked, suddenly interested.
"Different things," she looked at the table. "For some, personal information, like sexual deviance. From others, industrial secrets. Government secrets from still others."
"And you didn't go along, I'm thinkin', else Neera wouldn't o' found you where you were."
"I did, at first," Amanda said. "I was told it was part of my testing, to see if I was smart enough for advanced educational training. Being an orphan, there was no real way I was going to be able to go to college, so this looked very attractive."
"After a while, though, I began to realize that there was never going to be such an opportunity. I was being tested harder and harder, and being made to do more and more invasive readings. Finally, I refused."
"I was beaten, at first," she told them. "Later, I was placed in a water tank, and electricity run through it. They called it The Jolt. I. . .I broke under that," she admitted tearfully. "It was so awful. The next time I balked, they beat me again, then Jolted me. But even when I broke, again, they threw me in the cell you found me in," she looked at Neera. "I don't know how long I had been there."
"I was given just enough food and water to survive," she continued. "Not enough to nourish me. Allowed no contact with anyone. Nothing." She looked up. "I think they had decided to try and break me one more time, or kill me. I. . .I would have broken." She shuddered as sobs wracked her body. Neera placed her arm around the girl's shoulders, and led her from the room.
The others looked grim. Mal faced them for a moment, then stood.
"No more Mister Nice Guy," he declared. "I want anyone else responsible for that found. Whatever it takes. Anyone who had a hand in this, pays."
No one objected.
--
"Inara, do you like it here?" Prim asked, as they strolled through the gardens. It was almost springtime, now, and the weather was just cool enough that Inara wore a shawl. Prim was in sleeves. He never reacted to hot or cold weather.
"I love it here!" Inara told him, smiling as only she could. "It's marvelous!"
"It is a grand place," Prim nodded. "It has been home to me for a very long time. Too long, perhaps." Inara frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, you know that we, brethren, as some of us refer to ourselves, we do not age."
"Yes," Inara laughed lightly. "If only you could bottle that! You could make a fortune selling to the Guild, alone!" Prim stopped in his tracks.
"What is it?" Inara asked, concern in her voice.
"I. . .I know what he was doing!" Prim said all at once. "I know what. . .We need to get back." Prim turned at once, heading for the house, Inara nearly running to keep up.
"Prim what are you talking about?" Inara called breathlessly.
"You're brilliant!" he called over his shoulder, then stopped to wait for her. When she reached him, he took her in his arms, and kissed her soundly. After an instant of shock, Inara kissed back.
"You're brilliant," he repeated softly when their lips separated.
"I am?" Inara managed to gasp out. Her head was spinning from being more thoroughly kissed than she could ever remember.
"You are," he nodded, pulling her along to the house with an arm around her shoulders. "Bottle it! Hah! Right in front of me all the time!"
"If you don't," Inara pulled him until he slowed down, "tell me, right now, what you're talking about. . ."
"Inara!" Prim stopped again, looking at her. "Neethos was experimenting! With his own blood! He was trying to bottle it!"
"What?"
"Well, not really," he shook his head, calming some. "Look, there are aspects of our. . .condition, that are highly sought after. No aging, for example. Rapid healing for another. Neethos was trying to separate them! To find a way to give those aspects of the gift separately!"
"Why would he want to do that?" Inara asked. "For money?"
"Yes!" Prim exclaimed. "To finance his other projects. And that was the lure he used to attract investors, I'm willing to bet. He promised them eternal youth! Good health!"
"If you're right," Inara said thoughtfully, "then there's one group he could have certainly gotten funding from. The Guild."
"I hadn't thought of that," Prim looked thoughtful. "But, I'm willing to bet that at least some of the children in special holding were subjects of his experiments with his own blood."
"Neethos was old, Inara," Prim continued quietly. "Not even Janos knows how old. No one did. For all we know he could well have been the first of our kind. His blood would be strong, you see?" He started again for the house.
"We have to talk to Simon."
--
"Where are we going, Jayne?" River asked.
"Back to the ship," he told her quietly. "This is not something that we need to do right now."
"Then where are we going?" she repeated.
"Home." He looked down at her. "We're going home."
"Why?"
"You will need to see your brother," Jayne told her. "We will have to visit your mother, River," he told her pointedly. "There's little alternative. If she's gotten this rumor from somewhere, then we need to find out where."
"It could be an employee," River offered. "Someone who wasn't working that night."
"It could," he nodded. "And she could be an investor. Or your father. I don't want us to walk into this blindly. There's too much at stake. Not for us, but for the children."
"Do you really believe they're alive, now?" River asked, suddenly sad.
"I don't know," Jayne admitted. "It's possible. I think a great deal depends on what they were being used for. And why they were missing in the first place. For all we know," he stopped, looking down at her, "they're already dead. Never left the Facility. Just still listed as being there."
"If. . .if they are," River looked back at him. "Dead, I mean. Then I want whoever else is responsible to pay. I want them to suffer, Jayne."
"Oh, they will," Jayne's eyes were almost glowing. "I promise you, River. They will."
They walked the rest of the way to the ship in silence.