The Daring Rescue
Dear God, I feel especially compelled to pray for young Simon right now. Lord, he is confused, he is frightened, and he is lost; help him see the way. Grant him your wisdom, that he might find a way to help his sister. Grant him your peace, that he may come to terms with the new life he's found himself in. Grant him strength, that he may never grow hopeless, or give up. Grant him your love, that he might redeem his sister, who is as lost as he is. Lord, bless his hands, which do your work. Heal his heart, which aches and is broken from all he's lost. Dear God, just take him into your hands and carry him as he goes through his trials. These things can not be faced with only the strength of man, fill him with your spirit so that he can continue doing your work. Please, Lord, keep Simon near to your heart.
* * *
It is a fact that, if there is a prolonged irritation on one of the body's senses, an overpowering smell, an irritating itch, a droning noise, the brain, after a certain amount of time, will stop registering that irritation so that it can focus on more pressing matters. Simon, knowing this, kept hoping that he would stop concisely hearing the slow incessant hiss that indicated the Carbon dioxide was being pumped into this room instead of oxygen. But no matter how he tried to distract his mind he still heard the hiss of poison being pumped into the room.
Simon considered, very briefly, going up to the metal door that led to the hallway and breathable air and pounding as hard as he could. He was sure, though, that such an endeavor would be nothing but a waist of energy and oxygen. He also toyed with the idea of finding air ducts or crawl spaces or whatever this ship had and sneaking out. But then, for all he knew, crawl spaces and air ducts were mealy fictitious; inventions of pulp novelist to give their heroes a Deus Ex Machina means of escape. As far as he had observed there were no crawl spaces on Serenity and what air ducts there were couldn't have helped anything larger than a rat escape.
The idea of rescue floated across his mind for a second, but then he dismissed it. Captain Reynolds didn't know he was in trouble. This was Simon's own fault, practically throwing the transmitter at the brute Kurt, so he couldn't even really be bitter at Mal.
Doctor sat, and struggled with the notion that he was going to die alone of suffocation in some back room of a ship named Betty-Lou and, in all likely-hood, his body would not be buried but rather dropped into cold space. It was horrible to think about, horrible to realize.
The hissing continued.
Simon tried to take relaxed, even breaths.
He was worried about River who was, in a sense, the reason he was in his current situation. He didn't regret for a second throwing away his life so that she could have one. But he couldn't help but feel a little cheated. He'd imagined what would happen when she woke up and saw him, her savior, standing there. He'd imagined she'd run to him and hug him and cry on his shoulder. He imagined that she'd talk the way she used to talk, her mind going so fast that her words meshed together. He thought she'd tell him horror stories about experimental drug tracks and sleep depravation and shock therapy. He thought she'd tell him everything and then she'd be the girl he remembered and everything would be all right. He'd have his River back.
But it had become abundantly clear to Simon that his River, the brilliant, articulate, joyful, little girl he'd grown up with, was gone forever. He tried very hard not to cry because that took oxygen.
His steady breaths were becoming shallower as his lungs began to burn.
The hissing was getting louder.
At least, Simon reasoned, River would be all right. Not well off, but alive and free and with people who would take care of her. He had no doubt that, in his absence, the crew of Serenity would adopt River as their own. He didn't trust the majority of those people, but he knew Shepherd Book would insist on caring for the girl who was, in all practicality, an orphan. Kaylee would help too, she had such a large heart, she'd take in anything that was week and forlorn. And then Captain Reynolds would probably die protecting River, not because he had a particularly charitable or noble heart, Simon thought, but because he hated the Alliance so much. He'd spite them any way he could.
The hissing was so loud it blocked out almost all other thought.
Simon's breath came in short, shallow gasps. Darkness was spreading inward from the edges of his vision.
At least River would be all right.
* * *
"I've come ta collect what's mine," Captain Reynolds said, leveling his gun at Kurt. "Now if you wanna find yerself fulla led, you can stand there an' stonewall me. But if yer smart, you'll step aside."
"You said that Doct'r was big city. Old Cash is dead, So's we gonna kill tha' boy. Fair's fair."
"You can't kill him," Mal said coldly. "He's my doctor."
"It's a shade to late fer that," Kurt said, with a sickening laugh. "He's already dead."
"He's not," River softly but with unquestionable authority.
"Where," Mal said, his voice hard and sharp with anger, "Is my doctor?"
"'Spect that depends on whether or no he said his prayers," Kurt taunted.
"He's not dead!" River screeched.
"I believe this girl," Mal said. "So's I'm gonna ask one more time polite. Where is Simon Tam?"
"Past your help," Kurt said, once more with a self-satisfied smile.
"I been more than fair," Mal said, lowering his gun and firing blowing out Kurt's left knee. The man howled with pain as he collapsed to the ground.
The man guarding the entrance to the Betty-Lou, who'd summoned Kurt in the first place, reached for his gun. Mal, never taking his sites of Kurt who was writhing in pain, said, "I wouldn't do that son. You got no loyalty to this ship or this man. If you run off now, ain't nothin' no one could do 'bout it."
The man didn't bolt off into the space station, like Mal had half expected him to. But he didn't draw his gun either. He just watched.
"Now," Captain Reynolds said, pointing his gun more or less at Kurt's head, "I'm sick of askin' Tell me where to find my Doctor or by all that is dear to me I will end your life."
"I tell you he's dead," Kurt said, between gritted teeth. "Li'll Cash said to gas 'im, so we gased 'im."
"Where?" Mal said, cocking his gun.
"There's not time," River whimpered, pushing her way past Mal, jumping over Kurt and running into the clean, well lit hallways of the Betty-Lou.
Mal quickly uncocked his gun, "Your damn lucky, Kurt." He muttered as he stood up. "You kill that girls brother, and she saves your life."
* * *
Over the ever-present hissing Simon heard a bang, like a gunshot, and then another bang, like a body hitting mettle, then a clink, like a latch opening. Then a series of coughs as carbon dioxide assaulted the lungs of his saviors, as well as those who would murder him. Simon felt like he should react to those sounds but the very notion of moving seemed painful.
He did, however, watch with some interest as a blur of red, yellow and black, came running up to him. Soon a face which he assumed to be his mother's was floating in front of him, "Simon," the beautiful woman said, her long brown hair flowing around him like water from a waterfall, her soft hand's petting his face. She coughed, which was an odd thing for the angelic image of his mother to do, but Simon didn't mind. He smiled up at her weakly and tried to say something, but he didn't have the breath. "You're ok," the beautiful face said between coughs and gasps. "You can stop dying."
Then the face was ripped away and a voice that was familiar but Simon couldn't place yelled, "There's not air in here, get out to the hall." The voice coughed violently. "I'll get your brother, now get!"
Simon wanted to protest. He'd liked that face. He'd loved that face. If he was going to die, he wanted to at least die with that face beside him. But the blur of yellow and red scampered into the hall, where it collapsed, coughing, and Simon felt the deck beneath him shift and the upside down image of Captain Reynolds suddenly appeared hovering over him. The Captain seemed to be coughing and swearing simultaneously so that Simon couldn't understand anything he was saying. But whatever the captain had seemed to be catching, because Simon started coughing and gasping, and coughing again. Very weakly at first, but as the doctor was dragged out of the room, tossed on the ground next to the bundle of red and yellow, his coughs and gasps became more violent as his lungs desperately tried to expel the carbon dioxide that had been accumulating and take in any Oxygen available.
Through the violent respiratory fits Simon realized that the red/yellow blur was River. He tried to say her name, tried to reach out to her, but he couldn't speak, he couldn't move. All he could do was cough and gasp. Yet, as if she'd read his mind, she, threw her on bought of coughs, crawled over to him. "You won't die now," She said, coughing as she lifted her brother to his knees. "You're saved."
To be continued . . .
(It's not over, Book's still got praying to do.)
Authors note: A lot of people have asked about the Chinese in this story. Yes, it is real Chinese and I'm going to try to have attached at the end a translation page as a sort of appendix (I say try because I'm not sure I'm going to be able to remember or figure out exactly what each phrase is. I'm doing it at the very end instead of at the end of each chapter because I like to be as true to the show as possible, and the show doesn't translate.