Chapter 10: In which Inara is surprised, Mal is impotent and Simon pleads his case
"Here's the deal," Mal told what was left of his crew as they sat, quietly assembled, around the Frye's kitchen table. Almost the entire family had quickly, and pretty rudely, been sent home with assurances that, as soon as Kaylee was feeling up to it, they could see her. Al and Nora were upstairs, smothering their daughter with parental affection. The young mechanic, however, was presently the least of Mal's worries. "Little Kaylee's gonna be just fine."
There was an audible sigh of relief, even though everyone had known that. They'd all seen Mal carry the girl in; she'd made a point to wave and smile at the crowd. She'd tried to tell them that she was fine, an assertion weakened by the fact that she and her captain stunk with the acidy smell of vomit and there was a bruise on her head that looked absolutely horrific.
"Local doc says she's got a concussion. She's gonna rest easy tonight and hopefully by tomorrow she'll be right as rain."
"Speaking of doctors," Zoë said, leaning forward. "Any clue as to Simon and River?"
"No," Mal said. "They were taken by the governor's guard. And I don't have ta tell all of you that the governor on this here planet was appointed by the Alliance."
"So then we're rid a them?" Jayne asked, just a little too hopefully.
"Jayne!" Zoë gasped, horrified. "Alliance will kill them."
"Or worse," Mal said. "So we're gonna find a way ta get them back."
"Isn't Inara with the Governor?" Wash asked. "Could she maybe do something?"
"My thought exactly," Mal said. "I sent a wave ta her shuttle, for reasons that are pretty obvious I didn't want it goin' through official channels."
"What if she isn't in her shuttle?" Book asked.
"I'm waitin' for a reply for I start jumpin' ta 'ifs'," Mal said. "Nara knows enough to check her messages. Plus it might just be that she'll have a chance ta see Simon an' River in which case she'll be contacting us."
"What do we do now, sir?" Zoë asked.
"Ain't nothin' we can do for the Tams until morin'," Mal said. "We'll meet here after breakfast and see what our options are. In the mean time, I suggest we all try for some sleep. Regardless of whether or not Inara can help us, gettin' them kids back ain't gonna be a cakewalk. I want everyone ready for whatever action we might see."
* * *
"Peppermint?" The governor of Newhope asked, offering a tin full of small white candies to his godson.
"No," Simon, now unbound and standing stoically in the governors office, said, not even glancing at the candy. He didn't have to. He knew the tin in the governor's hand about as well as he knew any object in the entire universe. He knew how much it weighed, he knew where the dents were, and how they'd come to be there, he knew what the small shiny white balls that filled it looked like and smelled like and felt like in his hands and in his mouth and he knew what they tasted like, too.
"These are your favorite," Comworth said, a little hurt by Simon's coldness.
"Governor," Simon said, his entire demeanor was as icy as he could make it. "I am your prisoner and you are my captor. Any confusion of these roles will only complicate what we both know has to happen."
"What's that, Simon?" the governor asked, truly curious.
"You're going to turn me into the Alliance," Simon said, although his conviction had slipped somewhat.
The old man looked at the boy for a long moment and then said kindly, "Simon, do you know who I am?"
"Yes," Simon nodded. "You're the Alliance-appointed governor of Newhope."
"I mean, do you recognize me?" Comworth said, almost pleadingly. "Do you remember all the—"
"I remember," Simon said, cutting his godfather off before the old man's recollections were able to melt away all of his cool determination and aloofness. "I just," he said a little uncertainly. " . . . you had us kidnapped."
"No," Comworth said. "I sent a party to retrieve you."
"I'm not seeing the difference."
"Simon," the Governor said compassionately, putting the peppermints down and walking over to the boy. "I don't think you're quite well."
"It might be the blow to the back of the head one of your 'party' gave me," Simon spat a little viscously.
"That man will be dealt with."
"That sounds vague and ominous. But then, I suppose upright government officials can't really talk openly about their kidnapping schemes."
The governor didn't respond to that. He just starred at Simon with his world-weary blue eyes. Simon wanted very badly to apologize, to make it up to the old man who'd been so kind to him throughout his childhood, and take a peppermint and forget all about the Academy and Serenity and, to a point, even River. He wanted to be a little boy with the godfather he idolized. But that wasn't an option, and so he forced himself to remain stoic.
"Are you going to tell the alliance?"
"Tell them what?"
"That you found us."
"I hadn't thought of it, but, I suppose, eventually. . .," Comworth sighed.
"No," Simon insisted, real fear hedging his voice. "You can't."
"I know you don't want to be caught, but . . ."
"You don't understand. They'll kill you."
"You really are mad," Comworth said sadly.
"There were these, these police officers who caught us. They were alliance police, we were being officially processed."
"Simon, what are you talking about?"
"We managed to escape," Simon continued. "River, I and a third man who was large and strong. He wanted to fight his way through the police and run out the way we came, the way we knew. River was in hysterics, she insisted that they were coming."
"They?"
"Alliance agents," Simon said with a shrug. "People from her school, people sent to retrieve her. She calls them two by two with hands of blue. She screams about them in her nightmares."
"Why are you telling me all this?" Comworth asked.
"I didn't see what happened," Simon said. "But there were screams. The most horrible . . . like these people were being tortured, or . . ." A shiver flew down the doctor's spine. When he looked up at his godfather, his eyes were set and cold and dead serious. "I worked in the emergency room. I treated people with multiple gunshot wounds, severed limbs, the most atrocious and painful wounds that you can imagine. Still, I've never heard screaming like this. And then, after a few seconds, complete silence."
"Maybe the people passed out," Comworth said.
"Maybe," Simon nodded, although his tone made it clear that was not his favored theory.
"And how did you escape from these blue-handed fiends?"
"The people who we've been hiding with, they helped us. Helped us escape. If they hadn't come when they did the other man, he would have been killed right there, I'm sure of it. If I wasn't killed I'd have . . . They want River, that's it. I don't know why those police officers were killed, but I do know it was because of their contact with River and me."
"Do you know how paranoid that sounds?"
"Yes," Simon said. "But that doesn't make it untrue. Please, promise me you won't tell the alliance for your sake. Not until you really understand what's going on."
"That's a very unreasonable demand, Simon," Comworth said with a sigh.
"No it's not," Simon insisted, "And even if it was, what harm could it possibly do for you to humor me? The worse thing that could happen if I'm wrong is a slight delay in our processing. But if I'm right . . ."
Comworth took a deep breath and regarded his godson critically. Finally he said, "I can't make any promises, but for now I will sustain from contacting them until I have this entire situation figured out. What happened, Simon?" Comworth finally asked.
"Do you care?" Simon asked, trying to sound callous.
"Of course I do," Comworth said, a little angry. "I care very much. You are my godson, wei le ji du."
"Well then, have you read my warrant?" Simon asked, his voice trembling just a little.
"It's not something I want to look at," Comworth admitted. "Or even consider. Simon, what came over you?"
"You should read it," Simon said. "I didn't want to at first but, ah, after a bounty hunter shot me, I thought it might be a good idea."
"Shen di yu, you were shot?"
Simon nodded dismissive, "Do you know what I'm wanted for?"
"No," Comworth sighed. "Simon, I don't care what you did; I just want to help you."
"I'm wanted for stealing government property," Simon said.
"Whatever you took . . ." the governor started.
"Don't you see," Simon said passionately. "What I took was River."
"What, exactly, are you saying?" Comworth asked.
"I'm not charged with kidnapping because, to them, I didn't take a person, a human being, a girl, my sister. I didn't take River. I took government property."
"They who?"
"The Alliance," Simon said. "They tortured her, they cut her brain for some experiment or program or something. She called out for help and I was the only one that heard her, or maybe I was the only one that cared. I don't know." He sighed, and his eyes drifted to the elegant oriental rugs on the floor as he considered River. "She . . . she doesn't know what's real, not really. She told us once she understands, she just doesn't comprehend. There are connections, somewhere, that aren't being made. And, at night, she had these nightmares that . . ."
"I know you think you did the right thing," Comworth said, putting a supportive hand on Simon's now-lax shoulder. The doctor knew he should shake it off, he just didn't' have the heart. "But do you know what I saw when she greeted me earlier tonight? I saw the same lovely beautiful child I remember, not someone who'd been experimented on, not someone who suffers from a tenuous grip on reality."
Simon stared at his loving godfather, horrified. "You think I'm psychotic," he said, suddenly realizing that nothing he said would matter. "My parents, they told you I'd displayed paranoid tendencies and you think that the stress of being a surgeon or a failed romance or something stupid like that coupled with the anxiety of a prolonged separation from River sent me over the edge."
"What?" Comworth laughed, somewhat warmly, somewhat nervously. "You read minds now?"
"I just know you," Simon said. "I wish you knew me."
"You honestly think you saved her, don't you?"
"Does it matter what I answer?" Simon asked. "It's what you think, isn't it? You'll interpret everything I tell you as a delusion, me projecting my own schizophrenic behavior onto River in order to justify my paranoia-driven actions, regardless of the truth."
"I must admit, boy, you don't sound insane."
"Thank you," Simon said sarcastically. "Your confidence means everything to me."
"But you don't sound like my godson either," Comworth noted a little angrily. "You have changed, Simon."
The young doctor didn't have a response to that, his eyes drifted back to the floor.
After a moment of silence, the governor picked up the tin box again. "Do you remember when you gave this to me?"
Simon glanced up. The personal, comfortable way the governor had asked the question caught him off guard. "No," he admitted without a cool edge on his voice.
"I'm not surprised," the older man chuckled, putting his hand on Simon's shoulder and gently pushing the boy towards a pair of very comfortable-looking armchairs in the corner of the large office. Simon considered, for a second, resisting his godfather's gentle leading. But his impassive approach had practically convinced the older man that he was insane. Being a little more honest and a little less defensive might change the governor's mind, and if the governor's mind could be changed, then maybe he and River would be able to get back to Serenity. That's all that mattered, getting back to Serenity.
"You were four when you gave me this for Christmas," the governor said, sitting down in one of the overstuffed chairs, Simon followed suit. "You'd picked it out yourself."
Simon let himself smile and chuckle, "For Christmas I gave you my favorite candies. How generous of me."
"The thing of it was," the governor continued. "You never asked for one. You would always accept them when I offered, but you never asked."
"I suppose," Simon said, not really remembering that detail of their relationship. "But I don't see what that has to do with . . ."
"With your current situation?" Comworth asked. "I'm not sure I know either. But that always impressed me."
"It impressed you that I didn't ask for candy?" Simon said, a little baffled.
"You were always very polite. You never demanded things. I liked that about you."
"Well," Simon sputtered, not really sure what to say. "Thank you."
"And what I don't understand is how such an undemanding child could grow up and demand so much."
"I didn't ask you to kidnap us," Simon said, suddenly reconsidering his new non-defensive strategy. "I never asked you to do or to risk anything."
"You demanded your sister," Comworth said. "You had to have her, immediately, and you've ruined your life and might very well ruin hers unless--"
"Her life was already ruined," Simon snapped. "She needed me. I saved her life."
"You do believe that," Comworth said softly.
Simon closed his mouth angrily. He'd been tricked into answering his godfather's question, and he couldn't help sounding arrogant and paranoid in the process.
"I wish," Comworth continued. "I wish I could have my godson back. My sweet, kind, godson."
"I'm afraid you're going to have to live with the fact that your godson is a federal fugitive, wanted dead or alive," Simon spat. "I'm sorry if that's hard for you."
"You want my compassion, don't you?" Comworth asked.
"It's been made very clear that I can't expect it."
There was another long pause. Finally, the governor said, "You can go, Simon."
"What?"
"Go."
"Go where?"
"I don't know," Comworth said, "Back to wherever you came from. That small town Fresh Well or whatever its name was. You can go."
"You're letting us go?" Simon asked, amazed.
"No, I'm letting you go. I'm keeping River."
"No," Simon said. "You can't."
"I can," Comworht said. "I don't want to see you imprisoned or committed, or whatever punishment would befall you. But River can still go back to her school and—"
"No!" Simon said, pushing himself out of the chair and standing imploringly in front of his godfather. "You don't understand. They cut her, into her brain. They hurt her."
The governor looked up at the boy, sad but not convinced in the least.
"Please," Simon said. "I never asked for candy, I never asked for everything, but tonight I have to. Please don't send River back. I don't care if they put me in prison or whatever, you just . . . she can't go back."
"I understand that separation from her must break your heart," the governor started.
"It's not separation from her," Simon insisted. "They hurt her. Talk to her for twenty minutes and you'll see. I don't care what happens to me, I don't . . . If I never see her again, but I know she's safe, that they don't have her, well, I could live with that. But if you send her back then . . ."
"Do you understand how you sound, Simon?" Comworth asked. The old man looked near tears.
"Yes," Simon said. "I understand perfectly well how I sound. But I'm telling the truth. I'm not going to lie to make you feel better or instill confidence in a government which finds it perfectly all right to torture little girls."
"So, you won't leave without River?"
Simon hesitated. If he left without River, it was possible that he could contact Mal and they could mount a rescue. But then, it was also possible that he could never see his sister again, that she could be dragged off to the Core and cut into and programmed and generally turned into nothing more than a weapon for the Alliance to use.
"I won't," he finally said, his voice was firm with determination. "I'd rather die than abandon her to them."
"I see," Comworth said, this time it was his voice that was cool and detached. "I'm not quite sure how I want to handle this just yet. Until I determine the best course of action, you will be kept in a guestroom. There will be an armed guard at your door and you won't be allowed to see River at any time."
The doctor felt like he'd been shot in the chest. He staggered back a step and for a moment he entertained the idea of jumping at his godfather and strangling the old man he loved so much. The idea, the mental image, was so disturbing that he took another staggering step back.
"Simon," Comworth said, standing. The older man's voice was filled with concern and he reached out for the boy. "Are you all right?"
"No!" Simon snapped. He took a deep breath forced a stance of composure. "Don't send her back. Not until you've talked to River, asked her if she wants to go."
"You're tired, Simon, and emotional," Comworth said, walking over to his desk and pressing a small button under its edge. The door to the outer office immediately opened and a pair of armed guards entered. "Take him to the quarters I had prepared. Make sure that all the windows are secure and that his door is guarded at all times," he told the guards before turning back to Simon. "We will talk again in the morning, after you've rested and collected yourself."
"Don't you think I'm a little old to be sent condescendingly to my room?" Simon asked as a guard garbed each of his arms.
Comworth suddenly looked guilty, "I wish it was different, Simon," the older man explained. "I wish you would let me help you."
"And I wish you could help me," Simon said, just as sadly, before being shoved out the door.
MONDAY
"Good morning, Genie," Inara said, walking up behind the young girl and her new friend, who were both sitting at the table in the rose garden, eating breakfast.
"'Mornin'," Genie stared before quickly correcting herself. "I mean 'good morning Miss Inara'."
"Very good," Inara said. "Now, why don't you introduce me to your friend?"
"Why?" the new girl asked, turning her head so Inara could see her round face and deep brown quizzical eyes. The girl was very lovely, Inara thought, with her hair pulled up in a series of braids and curls and a charming royal blue dress cut in the latest style. She was somewhat familiar, still, Inara couldn't think of where she could possibly have made the young girl's acquaintance.
"It's for practice, River," Geine explained quickly, turning to her friend.
Inara felt like her heart stopped. She blinked, several times, and stared, very impolitely, at the young girl, who stared back innocently.
"Come on, stand up," Genie insisted, oblivious to Inara's shock.
"Simon said it was a secret," River insisted as she followed Genie's directions and stood. "I tried to tell him but he never listens."
"Quit kiddin'," Genie said lightly. "I need ta know this stuff."
"That's right," Inara said, struggling to keep her composure as her mind raced, trying to determine how and why River Tam would be eating breakfast with the granddaughter of the governor of Newhope. River had said Simon wanted their relationship to be a secret. Inara didn't quite understand that, but she was so surprised by the girl's sudden appearance that she decided to follow the doctor's advice blindly and figure it out later. Simon was smart; he probably had a very good plan. She would have hated to mess it up before he got a chance to act on it. "And I don't think we've ever been formally introduced."
River looked at Inara skeptically before smiling slyly. "I'm not telling."
"Kay now," Genie said, drawing both their attentions. "Miss Inara Serra, I would like to introduce you with . . ."
"To," Inara prompted.
"Right," Genie nodded, "Introduce you to my old friend, River Tam."
Inara took a steep forward, "I'm very pleased to meet you, River."
"No, you're not," River said. "You're confused and worried."
"River, that ain't, I mean, that is not polite, to say things like that," Genie scolded as she glanced up at Inara.
"Genie's correct, it's not," Inara said, smiling down encouragingly at the girl. "Now, why don't you two return to your breakfasts and River, you can tell me how you came to be in the governor's mansion."
* * *
"So what you people are telling me is that it's hopeless," Mal said frankly. "The bloody governors guards tramped through this forest not one day ago, and yet there ain't no clues as to where they came from or where they went."
"Nothing is hopeless," Book said. "Just sometimes the only hope is a miracle."
"Ain't the fact that they was the governor's guards a pretty good clue to where they came for and where they went?" Jayne asked. "I mean, how hard is it ta figure out?"
"Why would the governor care?" Zoë asked, looking around the clue-less forest. If Simon and River's lives weren't in danger she would have liked to dally in this little spot with Wash for a while, what with its soothing sounds of a waterfall and the rustling of the wind through the trees and warm filtered light and the soft forest floor.
"Reward?" Jayne asked.
"Governor's got plenty of money," Zoë said.
"But
for some plenty is not enough," Book pointed out.
"What I want to know is how
they knew the kids were here?" Mal said.
"What, in the woods?" Jayne asked.
"In the woods, on the planet," Mal said. "The governor knew they were on the planet."
"Someone could of tipped him off," Zoë suggested. "Maybe a local who looks at the postings in the sheriff's office."
"Then wouldn't they have told the sheriff?" Mal asked. "Al said the governor's guards only work for the governor, no one else."
"What if the men were working without orders?" Book asked.
"To many humping ifs," Mal muttered.
To Be Continued . . .