Chapter 25 : Epilogue Part C; Send Them On Their Merry.
Previously: Mal has dealt with Anthony, River, Jayne and Kaylee and their involvement in the incidents on the Skyplex and Anthony's rescue. More resolutions to come and perhaps an anchor for a sequel .
~oOo~
Doctor Ashleigh Harvey...
Mal walked down the passage way stopping to take note of the small band gathered around the medi bed in the infirmary. Simon fretted about and around Anthony; completing his therapy as Ashleigh spoke. Zoë was there; standing in the corner while River interrupted every now and again trying to explain everyone questioning stares. Except she was doing it in crazy-talk which made the explanations quite interesting.
Mal decided to interrupt when he heard Anthony' s name mentioned and Ashleigh's curious tone.
"I can't tell you why, Simon, I hope to know more, but his father's longevity like the Reavers, is definitely a result of their mutations. Anthony's cells were not that effected, his father's serum put an end to the mutations, but it did not fully reverse some of the effects, in particular his strength and agility and now, it appears, also his life span. While his growth may appear stunted it really is merely delayed. He is quite small for his age and immature; but he will grow to be a strong healthy adult, albeit slowly. And he will live a long healthy life. Put simply his ageing has slowed down. Bence should have presented a man of at least forty eight, yet his physical attributes; his DNA, his organs, everything presents him as a man in his early thirties; the age he was at the time he came into contact with the Pax 23. By my calculations Anthony will age at half the rate of a normal human being. Anthony could well live to be over a hundred and twenty years."
"And the Reavers?" asked Zoë.
"Great you mean they ain't dying out too soon, then?" interrupted Mal.
Ashleigh turned around, "No I'm afraid not, but I could be wrong. I need to do some more research; hence the need for Bence's notes and I've taken samples from, Bence... The Reaver. Hopefully, I have should be able tell you a lot more soon.
Suddenly Konrad Scott turned up at the med bay door crossing his arms with a scowl on his face, "You tell them how you gonna be able to do that?"
Ashleigh returned his scowl, although hers softened some after a moment."No, Konrad I don't want to do it this way, but..."
"Just leave it. Leave the Reavers to themselves. There aren't that many left out there. These people saw to that," stated Konrad with an arm swing towards Serenity's crew.
"There's enough of them that they can still bring grief to the rim worlds," said Zoë.
"And the Alliance ain't gonna help," added Mal.
"Well… Not in the way we think they should," continued Ashleigh, "The Alliance already has my samples; Zoë's samples; and some of my earlier Bence research. They're going to want all of it. I can..."
Mal finally got the drift of what Ashleigh was suggesting. "So what now you're just going to hand them everything?" he asked incredulously.
River caught Konrad Scott's eyes, and stared into them."No, but they are looking for her, she will fool them and find the answers, at great peril, but..." Her voice trailed off and she started frowning.
Ashleigh turned to the young reader, ignoring the glares from both Malcolm Reynolds and Konrad Scott. "River, I know how dangerous this is, but if I don't go, they will hunt me down. I'm not risking the others at the safe haven or Daniel or your crew." She paused for a second. "I will not let anyone else die because of what I've done." turned to Mal. "Captain, I have friends in the Alliance and have more of a chance convincing the authorities that I've just been on leave and while there have discovered some more interesting facts. They will trust me, then I can delay, falsify research... I can't do this from the outside."
"They will try and find a way to get you to do what they want. At least with Ashleigh there we have a chance. Any decent scientist will figure this out eventually," stated Simon.
Yes, that's why I have to try. All this research, why the Reavers exist, Bence's formula, the LgE2 immune experiments; it's the perfect for those interested in developing a militarily muscle. They will be able to create soldiers that are strong and ruthless, immune to several diseases and conditions, and on top of all that have longevity.
"Why not use it to cure the Reavers, or at least have the cure if anything like this ever happens again," said Zoë angrily.
"Yer talkin about the Alliance, remember Zoë, you really think they're interested in that, they torture youngins and don't give a damn about the rim worlds."
"No, Sir, I know that first hand...just torturing...all of us."
"The Reavers can never be cured, they will die mad, still wanting to feed and kill," wearily explained River.
Bence's formula works; but it's not a cure for those already fully infected. It acts as both a vaccine and a cure for those in the early stages of the infectious mutation. But, to the Alliance, it means they'll have some control over the population. They won't be using it to cure, or prevent this from happening again they'll develop to the point where it's safe enough to create a soldier that can be controlled and is stronger than anything we've ever seen before." Ashleigh explained in a Simon-esque manner which had pretty much everyone tuning out.
"She's right Mal," conceded Simon. "We all know how the Alliance thinks."
"Meddlesome; but evil. Monsters making monsters, Mal!" announced River.
"She's right, said Ashleigh. "I'll destroy everything before I will let it get to that, and to do that I must go in and convince them for the next few months that I am working for them; and have been all this time."
"And what if they cotten onto your little covert operation?" demanded Konrad.
"Then I will try and get to you, but I won't take any chances."
"We could hide. Hide and see. Sail the seas. Sail the black and out of sight, you, me, and Daniel, I..."
"And keep running? I know we could; but, we have a chance! I don't want to run, at least not while we have a chance, Konrad." Ashleigh pleaded.
Konrad Scott shook his head and stormed off towards the galley.
Mal turned his head as if to follow; but then looked back at River, looking for some of the young reader's further insights.
River knew what Mal wanted and looked at her Captain with conviction and certainty; well, it was crystal clear; at least in her mind. "She has to do this, Captain, for the babies too. Zoë's babies for the three, and the one that will never be. Just, just... Ashleigh beware the one that does not know music; he cannot sing."
"Can you be a little clearer than that, mei, mei," pushed Mal.
"No." River shook her head. "But, they will want her. They look for the pretty doctor now. We have two days. The one that cannot sing is watching Ashleigh. He is not to be trusted. I can't see his face, but he will try and trick you... Say you will, then run home; run home." River sighed and then looked at Mal and shrugged. "That's all I got."
Anthony had been watching the conversation that bantered around the room. He understood very little, but attempted to absorb the emotions. He frowned at River, connected to her vision, and then spoke quietly. "He cannot sing; not one of us. It has never heard..."Anthony cocked his head and stared ahead. "Pop goes the Weasel… Never, never again."
"No, never again, Little Britches," repeated Mal and picked the child up from the medi-bed and rubbed his back.
"Anthony is right, Doctor Ashleigh, but I don't know what he is... Only beware," repeated River.
"Thanks River, I will be careful, I promise." The pretty doctor inclined her head towards River.
"I know," said River, "I know."
Mal handed Anthony to River. "Good girl, okay best you be hitting yer bunk take Anthony with you he's about ta fall asleep.
River let the small boy wrap himself around her and smiled when he nuzzled his head into her neck beneath the veil of her hair.
Mal followed River and Anthony out of the infirmary, leaving Simon Zoë and Ashleigh there; looking at each other.
Dui kang xie ye e wu bu bu neng cong wai mian kan le liao
Fighting evil cannot be made from the outside looking in...
"We should not be simply fighting evil in the name of good, but struggling against the certainties of people who claim always to know where good and evil are to be found." Tzvetan Todorov
Zoë...
Zoë turned to Ashleigh. "Don't put yourself in danger on account of my samples. I don't want my... My husband... Wash turned into monsters trained and enslaved by the Alliance. Destroy the samples if you have to."
"I will Zoë. I won't let the Alliance use them. However, I suspect that they have already attempted to create Reavers that they can control, but they may have not had much success or maybe they haven't found the connection with the immune cells lgE 2 . Otherwise they wouldn't give a damn about finding me."
Zoë nodded. "You need backup anytime; you get us a wave."
"Okay. And Zoë?..." Ashleigh changed the topic "Carl and Anna. Doctor Humphries sent word both embryos have been implanted. Four weeks and both hearts were beating. By rights they are your babies."
"They are good people? You told me that. They are safe?"
"They are. Anna and Carl just want children. It would break their hearts if anything happened to them. They deserve it. We are the only ones that know whose DNA, Anna carries. As far as anyone else is concerned they have naturally conceived with only some medical intervention. Carl and Anna are not only my patients, they are my friends; Loyal ones. Carl is also my Alliance contact. We have to keep him safe too. That's another reason I will go back to them. If they discover his involvement they will discover Doctor Humphries' safe haven.
Zoë nodded, "Then leave them be; gotta have the chance."
"What about you?" asked Simon.
"Your chance is still an option, Zoë. There is enough of Wash's sperm to impregnate you. "According to my charts you have a two day window."
" Never thought about a tactical manoeuvre so hard as this; just always followed my instincts. Children were something I wanted, and now... Well, I know it's something that Wash wanted; wanted fer us. He deserves a legacy; some of that's in Anthony, in Carl and Anna's babies and a lot of his legacy is in all our memories of him, but it isn't that simple. I've spent a lot of my time in this 'verse thinking this isn't no place to birth a child..."
"There are those who have thought that way for centuries," commented Ashleigh, "Not so many though."
"If there had been then there would be no Reavers," stated Zoë.
"Then there would be nobody, no soldiers, no pilots, no doctors, no..."
"Just those willing to lie down," said Zoë. "I don't intend to lie down; never have. I follow my instincts; it's who I am."
"River says it was meant to be. And it was Wash that insisted that I check his count that day after Niska's torture, so he too must have meant it to be. Rivers not the only one that believes that, Zoë. But it's your decision," offered Simon.
"I want Wash's baby. If I can, if it's meant to be."
"Okay then. There's no time like the present. Here change into this gown," offered Ashleigh, "You'll be more comfortable."
Zoë took the gown, stripped down to her underwear, as Simon turned to the bench to arrange the necessary implements. Ashleigh went to the cryogenic storage unit and pulled out Wash's samples, then started the thermal process to get the fluid to the right temperature. When Simon turned back around Zoë was dressed in the short white gown and was on the medi bed.
"Seems kind of clinical," quipped Zoë, her humor belying her nerves.
"Yes, but a sterile environment increases the chances of success. I'm sorry Zoë."
"Are you comfortable?" asked Simon.
"Yes, well except for... Something's sticking into my back here." Zoë fiddled around behind her back. Lifting it slightly off the medi-bed, she pulled out a small green figurine; Anthony's dinosaur. "How did this get here; I swear he left it in the cockpit. I saw it there myself just an hour ago."
Simon laughed, "Don't know, he's been leaving them all over the place. Seems like they're procreating. Every time I turn around he is holding one. He brings one along when he has his therapy. It's a comfort for him. Guess he wants you to have it."
"You're not so clinical after all, Simon. I can see through you.," smiled Zoë as she looked at the small toy.
"Bedside manner was a part of my medical training, Zoë," laughed Simon. The years on Serenity had smoothed some of the formality off of the doctor; he didn't take himself as seriously now, and a part of himself that he liked.
Zoë, smirked and nodded, and nothing like feeling you belong to a family, and picking up a few niceties from one special engineer, to soften your guard, she thought briefly before she lay down and closed her eyes, holding the dinosaur close. For a brief moment the figurine seemed to tingle, just enough to block out the movements of Simon and Doctor Harvey performing the procedure.
Zoë revelled in her memories. First the smile of River, holding a scared and frightened little boy; Anthony. Then Wash came to her, smiling and smothering her laughter with soft quick kisses, "A moment is all we have," she silently whispered, as his ghostly image trailed his lips down her neck and twirled the long curls of her dark shiny hair in his fingers. "The auto's on, a moments all we need." Wash's image smirked.
Ren lei de di di xin zang bu bu shi young lai da wai mian ren lei de di di shen ti ti ran er mei ge ge hai zi dai biao zhi shi fu fu mu yong yuan wai
The human heart was not designed to beat outside the human body and yet, each child represents just that - a parent's heart bared, beating forever outside its chest." ― Debra Ginsberg.
Konrad Scott...
Mal walked into the galley and found Konrad Scott helping himself to a bottle of the beer like brew that Kaylee had found on her shopping trip that morning. Probably a bribe thought Mal, too bad, it didn't work. But then he was confident Kaylee knew the deal they had going here; her more than anyone. He'd let his guard down lately; let his crew forget that he was in charge. Heck he was one for autonomy when it came to deciding when they should take a caper on that could endanger their lives; just like that day at Safe Haven after they buried Book and decided to go through Reaver space, but he hadn't given them this option here. He needed them to stay safe and outta of the mix in case they needed to run. "Gorram fools, coulda got thereselves killed, when the job was in hand." He muttered out loud.
Konrad lifted the top of the bottle and turned around, "You say somethin?"
"Yeah, you got coin for that?"
"Sure!" Konrad pulled a pouch out of his leather jacket and threw it to Mal.
Mal held the pouch up and raised an eyebrow at the sound of rattling coins. Mal pulled it open a pulled out one of the small solid gold bars.
"30,000 credits, what Maggie owed you. A pretty darn good bounty Captain, consider the brew a finder's fee," smirked Konrad, saluted and then took another swig of his drink.
"Done," said Mal and moved over to the bench and grabbed a bottle for himself.
"Wanna jaw for a bit, while yer waiting for the pretty doctor?" asked Mal. Common room got some settin' space, grab the rest of that hooch." He let out a wry grin. "Can't tell how long it will last round here."
Konrad sipped on the bottle, and then took another hefty swig. "It's not a bad slice of the mainbrace; gotta bite to it like gunpowder, though reckon it could have yer squiffy sure enough."
"Prolly so," laughed Mal as he headed to the common room and flopped wearily down on the futon. He shifted sideways and pulled out one of Anthony's toys the kid must have left in there earlier. He sat the small figurine on the wooden coffee table in front of him and stared at it, as he sculled the rest of his bottle - Wondering...
Konrad walked in and distracted him from him ponderings. "That was quick, don't like sharin' your grog do you?" quipped Konrad.
"No not much. Figured you deserved this though. Earlier in the caper, I wanted to rip yer head off yer when I found out about you being in cahoots with Mad Maggie, but well..."
"I came to my senses... Well, sort of…" Captain Scott waved his arms around. "This whole thing is just weird, though. Maggie's been quite good to me. We have history. Her Boy... Daniel's Father; we were friends." He took a slurp of the potent beverage. "I'm Daniel's godfather. I weren't never going ta hurt him; but I knew Maggie would listen if I had with me. I ain't too popular right now with my boy; skelped the tar out of his backside good for not following me orders and heading back when I told him to. He's a good lad and Maggie... Well, Maggie's heart was in the right place, she just sails her ship against the tide that's all. She would have come around. Daniel's all she's got left."
"She gonna pull through?"
"Aye, I think so; eventually, but we've got to get moving. I'm taken Daniel to Doctor Humphries with the sea cucumbers and the other medical supplies. He'll be treated there. Ashleigh's staying and treating Maggie until the Alliance arrive. They aren't going to get much out of Maggie when they get here, but it'll look true. Ashleigh gonna run a con; a trick, say she was called away for Maggie" his hand wavered the rotgut was making him drunk a lot faster than the usual high grade spirits he imbibed in "Some sort-ah… sort- ah medical emergency."
"Which is good. We'll be all good and gone."
"Affirmative!" growled Konrad then emptied his bottle. He leant forward to grab another, and paused, "With the Captain's permission?" he smiled at Mal.
"Granted, though don't be coming near me when yer pukin' yer guts up."
Konrad laughed, "Might have to, might have to see your Doc, mines..."
"You ain't none too merry about all this; Ashleigh plan?"
"Nope. I'd ah… Shanghai her, iffing I thought it would do any good. Throw her over my shoulder and go all kinds of Captain Blood on her. She'd fall for it too. I know what she likes. A good'un slap to her rump would settle any cussing she'd be throwing at me. Though I can admit I don't mind a few sailor expletives passin' her lips," he laughed shaking his head. "That educated doctor voice of hers, she jist can't say them with conviction; makes- em sound like medical procedure. It's all kinds of real cute."
You have some sort of history with her too, then.
"Aye to that. We go a ways back."
"Regrets?"
"Wishin' I'd behaved some. And gorram glad I didn't."
Mal laughed and Konrad responded by tapping his bottle neck against Mal's.
"Aye, cheers buckaroo... Can't make her stay, she's gotta do this. If I put my foot down, even if I convinced her to stay for real; for me and Daniel and her, she'd always be wondering whether she sailed true. If I want the right answer; the good answer is… Is her… What's I got to give it. Still don't regret nothin', and as soon as Daniel's well and ready to travel, I'll get close, watching and waiting."
Mal nodded, "Good answer," he whispered.
There was silence as each man finished off their third bottle of the dark ale and started on a forth.
"Whatja say this stuff would make us?" asked Mal.
"Squiffy, meaning intoxicated, Captain." Konrad stumbled over the words "I think this píjiǔ, beer, has to be at least twelve percent alcohol."
"Which means pissed as farts," chuckled Mal lifting his bottle in a mock salute.
"Three sheets to the wind," recited Konrad.
"Smashed!" quipped Mal.
"Inebriated; oh I've had a drop too much!" mumbled Konrad carefully articulating his words trying to make sure that he didn't slur anything.
"Latrine hugging lovin' drunk," quoted Mal.
"Plaster... ered," hiccupped Konrad.
"Wasted," moaned Mal.
"Nae ne'er, wasted," argued Konrad.
"Ne'er?" question Mal, smothering a snigger.
"Sorry, some of me ancestry comes a pokin' out mah mooth, like legs on a haggis, me great, great, grand-da, wasa Scotsman."
"I understood the Scotsman part," smiled Mal, still confused.
Konrad ignored Mal's dig, "Aye cheers, bucco." The Captains chinked their bottles again, and drank.
"So yer woman's a beauty. You weren't too pleased with her for following down to the hanger." said Konrad.
"Nope, weren't pleased with none of my crew," sighed Mal sobering a little. Well, his mind swayed into sobriety for a moment; his body… Not so much.
"Discipline... er'rry..."
"Err 'rrry?" laughed Mal.
"E.V.E.R.Y. now again, yer got to re-enforce discipline. Can only be one Captain when yer going inta rough waters; one calling for the main sails or the turnabouts. You put em all straight?".
"Aye," said Mal. "Got one more to go."
"Ahh the goddess with her big brown eyes and her trusting pink smile. If she was mine I'd be skelping her bottom, though she does have too beautiful an ar..."
"Hey, enough with the observation."
"Sorry she's yer port stop or your anchor?"
"Neither... She's a breeze that can too easily take me off course."
"But she's here, nae..."
"Aye," she give a good answer," Mal reminisced
"There's a sayin, with my kin, an Earth-That-Was sayin', that's a ne'er... Never been lost in the new world..." Konrad took a large swig of the last of his brew and then a huge breath. He stood up, swayed a little while he brushed his long black hair off his face and raised one hand and one pointed finger, concentrating on the words that he was about to deliver. "Tak tent o time ere time tent of thee."
"I should take time to go camping?"
"Nae," laughed Konrad,"
"Nae?" Mal shook his head. He found Konrad's laugh infectious, and joined in. Soon both men were belly laughing and exhausted. They lay on the futon gasping for fresh air.
"Nae..." repeated Konrad.
"Nae..." Chortled Mal, again.
"Shhh shhh... No, listen ere... This stuff 'ere is ai ya, damn, potent..." he looked at the empty bottle in his hand.
"Ya think!" laughed Mal, "what kind of space fearin' pirate are yer, can't 'old yer liquor"
"Can' ny space fearin' cowboy 'old yer own," mimicked Konrad,
Both men burst into hysterical laughter again.
"Okay, nae.. NO! Listen," straightened Konrad. "The proverb is really fittin' here, Taktent o timeere time tent ofthee," said Konrad really fast, trying not lose his thread of thought. "It means; Take care of how you spend your time before you eventually die."
Mal thought about it carefully. "Really? It means that? That's a lot more English words that there are Scottishhh words..."
"It means it, believe me."
"Good sayin."
"Aye!" agreed Konrad.
"Aye," seconded Mal.
The conversation paused as both Captains started thinking and within minutes both of them were snoring.
Another hour later Ashleigh came to shake both of them awake. Mal helped her stand Konrad up and then said his goodbyes.
"You send us a wave you need any kind of help," offered Mal.
Konrad wanted to say that he would, or that he wouldn't need it; his pretty doctor was smart and brave, but he felt it might be like putting a Jonas out there. " Safe trip, captain," he nodded and then smiled as h turned and headed towards the cargo bay.
Mal followed them both to the end of the ramp, then sent them on their merry with some heartfelt shoulder slapping and more unspoken wishes of good luck. He was not all that confident that he would ever see or hear from either of them again, but he hoped so.
Mal walked back up the ramp slowly, his legs still feeling the effects of the strong brew he had consumed. He then stood in the empty and dimly lit cargo bay, and waited for the ramp to lock back into place. It was now well after midnight, and the crew should be all asleep. He pondered if Inara had given up waiting for him. He couldn't blame her if she did. Just the same he headed towards her bunk, "ere time tent of thee," he murmured.
Bójué yě búshì shénme diūshī , dàn hái shèngxià shénme 。
Count not what is lost, but what is left.
TBC Chapter 26: Epilogue Part D; Fifty Shades Of Brave.
Inara... Last one.
A.N. Thanks to MissGuenever for all her help. Well the last chapter is almost there, though I've had some serious considerations. I had always planned the ending to this story and the last scene, so while I sweat over it, there is one last quote. I was saving till the end, though I think it maybe appropriate here...
Well, Art is Art, isn't it? Still, on the other hand, water is water. And east is east and west is west and if you take cranberries and stew them like applesauce they taste much more like prunes than rhubarb does...Now you tell me what you know.
Groucho Marx