Chapter 20: In which it's time to say goodbye
"No," Simon gasped. "You can't . . ."
"Can't what?" his mother said. "All were doing is asking you –"
"To commit suicide?" Simon asked. "To surrender River to a living hell?"
"Language, Simon," Gabriel said with a warning in his voice.
"It's just words, Daddy," River said softly. No one had realized she was awake, she hadn't moved. But her voice was still clear and captivating.
"River, dear," Gabriel said. "You shouldn't defend your brother when you know he's doing wrong."
"You're right," the girl said, pushing herself away from the chair she'd been lying on. Her cheek was red where it was pressed against the chair and there was a clear mark where the seam had been. "Simon is very wrong," she turned to look at her brother. "I was bitterly disappointed but I've rested and I forgive you."
"Forgive me?" Simon asked. "River what did I . . .?"
"You didn't come," the girl said softly, weakly. "Its teeth sank into me and it swallowed me and the cold choked me. It hurt, Simon, it hurt and I died."
"River, dear, you didn't die," Regan said soothingly.
"And you didn't come," River said, her voice was trembling and tears threatened to spill out of her eyes. "But the walls are thick and the halls are long and I wonder if it didn't eat you too."
"River," Gabriel said in his most fatherly tone. "This is serious, stop babbling."
"Don't treat her like that!" Simon snapped. "If she says something, the least you can do is listen!"
"She's rambling," Gabriel said, matching his son's anger notch by notch. "Nothing she says makes sense."
"They're just words!" River screeched. Her whole face was red and tears were streaming down her cheeks. "It's talk and talk and someone's going to do something and we'll all wish there'd been fewer words."
"River," Simon said compassionately. He was stood up and moved towards her, but before he got a step closer his father grabbed him by the arm.
"You are not her savior, do you understand that?" Gabriel yelled at his son.
"I'll tell you what I understand," a very calm and cool voice said from the door. The scene stopped, for a heartbeat and everyone turned to look at the doorway. Mal was standing there with the sauntering confidence of a hero.
"Who?" Regan breathed.
"Mal?" Simon asked, not believing his eyes.
"Quiet time," River said, her sobs turning into gasps. "Shhhhhh!"
"Who the hell are you?" Gabriel said, letting go of his son's arm so he could face this new, foreign threat.
"Captain Malcolm Reynolds," Mal said with a smile as he strolled in casually. "But somewhat less important than my name, I think, is my observation."
"What's that?" Regan breathed, too shocked by the man's mere presence to question his authority.
"That there's a frightened little girl right here crying, and 'stead of rushing ta comfort her, her parents are stopping those who would."
"Oh," Regan said, truly taken aback.
"I'm going to ask again," Gabriel demanded. "Who the hell are you?"
"And I'll tell you again," Mal said amiability, pronouncing each syllable very slowly and clearly. "I'm Captain Malcolm Reynolds."
"That does not clarify the issue," Gabriel said between clenched teeth.
"We're here for yer kids," Jayne's rough voice called as he pushed himself forward to stand next to Mal. With or without guns, his presence was still a threat.
"What?" Regan gasped, her hands flying to her mouth.
"Crude and, ah, heartless, as Jayne is he happens to be absolutely correct. We're here for the kids."
"Is this a kidnapping attempt?" Gabriel asked with a laugh. "Do you know where you are?"
"It's not a kidnap," Simon said, his voice sounded a little dazed. "'You're not a prisoner if you don't want to run away.'"
River laughed sadly, "The words are falling over themselves, folds and echoes."
"You can't take them," Gabriel said furiously.
"You can't stop him," Simon retorted, having regained possession of himself. "River and I would rather be dead than in the hands of the Alliance. He's protected us, over and over." The boy was slowly, defiantly backing away from his father, each step bringing him closer to his captain. "You want me to turn myself in? I can't do that. If you're going to stop us, you're going to have to kill us."
"Well, I'd rather see you dead than a filthy criminal!"
"Hey," Jayne interjected. "I take a bath 'least once a week."
"I'll call the guards," the elder Tam continued, his voice strained with passion. "They will come in hear and shoot anyone who offers resistance."
"Simon," Mal said, "In the future don't suggest that people kill us. Tend's to put bad ideas in the wrong people's heads."
"He won't," Simon said with a sort of nervous confidence in his voice.
"Won't I?" Gabriel spat.
"No," Simon continued. "Because we're your children. And you love us."
"Simon, please," Regan sobbed.
"I'm sorry, Mom," the doctor said. "But you have to love us enough let us go. That's what we need."
"We're your gifts," River said with a sniffle. "Some people give money, some give time, but Mommy and Daddy gave us." She turned to her brother and smiled beautifully, even though her eyes were red with tears. "They gave you to humanity, Simon. You would fix the 'verse's ills. You would save lives. You would be important. You would make a difference."
"River," Gabirel warned, "It would be best for you to say out of this."
"Hey now," Mal said. "It's her life. I think she should get her say."
"You were going to give me to the humanities," River continued telling her father. "A prima ballerina, pretty and perfect. But that changed. They wanted me and you saw what a gift I could be. A politician, a military genius, a leader of men. I was your gift to the Alliance."
River unfolded herself from her chair and started walking towards her father. He was looking at her with his hard gray eyes and very clearly trying hard keep command of this situation. His skin looked ashen and his hands were trembling.
"I wanted to be what you saw for me, I wanted you to be proud," she reached her father and looked up at him, not condemningly, but sadly. Tears were running down her cheeks. "You told your friends I was special, that I'd been picked for a special school. But I couldn't wear pink, or purple or blue. You swelled with pride when positive evaluations were sent home. But they took away the jumping ropes before they became nooses. You dreamed of my reflected glory. But I only had nightmares."
"River," Regan said, finally gathering herself together enough to push away from the couch and wrap herself around her daughter. "We only ever wanted what's best for you. You and Simon both."
"Then let us go," Simon asked from across the room. The boy's voice was thin with tears he didn't want to shed in front of Mal and Jayne.
"I can understand how hard this is," Mal said, his voice was a little dewy as well. "But it is the best way. I will protect your children."
"Take Simon," Gabriel said harshly. "He's obviously determined to go. But you both know River needs more than you can give her."
"What River needs is to be with people who love her more than their social position," Mal retorted.
"How dare you!" Regan hissed.
"Shhhh," River said, pulling away from her mother and, like Simon, backing herself closer to Mal and Jayne. "The words are buzzing. They'll sting."
"I cannot accept that my children would choose you over—"Gabriel started.
"What?" Mal interrupted. "Death and torture? You'd be surprised what people will chose over death and torture. Although, having been tortured to death myself, I tend to think it gets a bad rap. Now, can we go?"
"Gotta say goodbye," River muttered, as if the seriousness and finality of the situation had just occurred to her.
"Ain't that what you've been doin'?" Jayne asked, annoyed.
"Please, Captain," Simon said softly.
"Yes," Regan called, hurrying towards her children. "Please, Captain Reynolds. Just one last hug, one last kiss. I swear, I'll let them go. Truly let them go, so long as I can have that."
"Fine," Mal muttered. "Move it along."
"Oh, River," Regan said, running forward, once more wrapping her arms around her daughter for what would undoubtedly be the last time. "Oh, River, my baby. And, Simon," Regan said, looking over her daughter's shoulder, stretching out her hand to him. Simon reached out tentatively, and took it. "You'll always be my little boy, my darling." She squeezed his hand. "I love you and I trust you to take care of her. And yourself."
The young man nodded mutely, too heartbroken to speak. He was still trying not to cry, although that battle was clearly lost.
"Here," Regen said, slipping her hand away from her son and letting her daughter go so she could pull a delicate ring, gold woven like a Celtic knot around a dainty emerald, off her finger. "This ring, do you remember it?" Her voice was broken up with tearful gasps.
"Grandmother's and grandmother's and grandmother's before," River said, clearly in awe of the ring she'd known so well. "From earth-that-was. Emeralds are for memory. They go back and they go forward, aid in knowing the past, aid in knowing the future."
"It's yours now," Regan said, slipping the ring on the girl's hand. "Please remember me. Remember I love you. I love you so much! You won't forget that, will you, that I love you so much I ache."
River was crying again, what she said came out in jerky gasps:
Every child dreams of no greater lover
Than the ones provided by sweet fate
No embrace more welcome than your mother's
The longing for which never will abate
No kiss is gentler than your father's
When sleep is lingering and the hour's late
But of all affections greatest is the brother's
Not bound by chains nor held by any gate
For when darkness crashes in on this dream,
Darkness I have grown too weak to resist,
He is there, with a sword made of light beams
That cuts and clears away the mire and the mist
So, no matter how desperate my plight may seem
I have hope, as long as my brother's love persists.
River smiled at her mother and kissed the older woman simply on the cheek. Then, turning to her father, she ran to him and threw her arms around the older man. He stood there, stoically, unsure if he'd lost everything by his own fault or it had been unjustly taken from him.
"I feel you ache too," River said, kissing him on the cheek. "You would have come if you could have."
She backed away, tears streaming down her face, and was the first to slip into the hallway, turning her back forever on her parents.
Jayne turned and followed the girl, eager to leave the room with its rampant and embarrassing emotions.
"Doctor," Mal said, his voice cracking a little. "We gotta go."
"Right," Simon nodded, his bloodshot eyes locked with his parents, his sobbing mother and his very cold father. "I . . ." he started, then faltered. "I am sorry," he finally told them. "And . . . if I could have . . ."
"Simon," Regan said, her voice soft and motherly. "An xiao."
The boy smiled, almost, and nodded. The closing his eyes, he turned, and walked out of the room.
"I'm not gonna stand here and pretend I understand what you've just lost, just let go," Mal told the Tams softly once he was sure neither River nor Simon could hear. "But I do know how special them kids are. Don't know how much a comfort this will be, but you both know this hurt them as much as it's hurting you. Still, for what it's worth, it was the right thing to do."
"I don't need a criminal telling me what the right thing to do is," Gabriel snapped.
"No, you don't," Mal nodded. "Not now of all time's, I'm sure. Well, then, zai jien."
* * *
Zoë drummed her fingers on her pant legs and looked listlessly out the window.
"Nervous?"
Shepherd Book asked kindly. He was sitting
next to her, on the isle seat. Across
from them Kaylee, who'd been lulled fast asleep by
the rocking of the train, resting her head on the window, as Newhope's landscape, now gray under the dark clouds,
streamed by.
"No,"
the firstmate said, sucking in a deep breath and
turning to the preacher with a smile on her face. "I'm sure the captain will see that
everything's just fine."
"Of course," Book nodded. She could tell she hadn't convinced him, because he went on, "There are other matters though."
"If you want a conversation, preacher, you're going to have to be a little more clear."
"How are you feeling?" Book asked, with real concern.
"All
right," Zoë said, with another large smile.
"It's not good to lie to a
preacher," Book said with playful scolding.
"Between
the killing and the stealing, I don't think lying to a preacher's gonna make that big a difference."
"Oh you'd be surprised,"
Book said. "Peter himself wrote, 'For the eyes of the Lord are over the righteous, and his
ears are open unto their prayers: but the face of the Lord is against them that
do evil.'"
"Is this your subtle way of letting me know you're praying for us?"
"Not so subtle, really," Book said.
Zoë chuckled to herself and smiled, this time genuinely. "My back aches," she admitted. "And my belly. Just pregnancy pains I guess. Most days wouldn't give them no mind but . . ." Zoë sighed,
"You'd rather think about them than worry over the others."
"I should be there, Shepherd."
"You did you're part," Book said.
"A noisy cat could of done my part."
"The Captain wants you out of harms way."
"And I understand that," Zoë said with a sigh, "And he is the captain, and I ain't gonna over worry him by doing anything stupid. But, as is, I ain't doin' anything at all."
"You're keeping where he doesn't have to worry over you. And I'm sure that's a great weight off his mind."
"He knows me well enough to know . . ."
"You are pregnant, Zoë," Book said.
"I know," the woman said, letting a little of the pain her stomach and back was giving her flicker into her eyes.
"It's a temporary state," Book assured her. "When the baby is born . . ."
"Mal's gonna see me like a mother," Zoë cut him off. "It's one thing makin' Wash a widower, it'd be another ta make my child an orphan."
"You don't know what will happen in the future," Book said.
"No offence, preacher, but that's pretty weak comfort."
"In that case, everything will be fine. Life will return to normal, we'll fall into great money and all settle down together on a beautiful ranch somewhere. The Captain will give up thieving. Inara will give up her life as a companion. River will get better. Simon and Kaylee will be married. You and Wash will have more children than you've ever dreamed of, and all of them will be happy and healthy."
Zoë couldn't help but laugh.
"Did I leave anything out?"
"No," she chuckled. "I think that 'bout covers it."
* * *
Mal felt that the mad rush from the east sitting room to the shuttle pad did go smooth, although, he couldn't have said it was easy. Jayne lacked many skills, but finding his way out of dangerous situations was not one of them; so he led the way. He'd spent the better part of the last night memorizing the villa's layout and he could have found their way to the shuttle from anyplace, be it deepest darkest wine cellar or the highest pinnacle of the carillon. From a centrally placed sitting room, he had no trouble at all.
Mal followed, leading River, who was sobbing so fiercely she could barely walk. When he'd exited the room she'd been muttering to herself, and the muttering turned into sniffles and the sniffles into full-fledged weeping. She was blind and deaf to anything but her grief and they didn't have time to let her compose herself and get over it. So he'd wrapped his arm around the girl's shoulders and insisted that if she had to cry, she might as well cry and walk.
More disconcerting than River's whaling, however, was Simon's absolute silence. The boy didn't even offer a word of comfort to his sister. He didn't rush to take care of her and relive his captain of the burden. Under normal circumstances, Mal would have been annoyed, but, of course, under normal circumstances, the boy would never let anyone else take responsibility for his sister. Simon's grief was burning inside of him, consuming him; there wasn't enough of him at this moment to give any to River. This was a temporary fault which Mal could forgive. To the young doctor's credit, his broken heart wasn't slowing them down. Mal could hear his uneven, sniffle-ridden breathing a constant two feet behind them as they kept a fast pace through the maze of marble hallways.
The plan was going so smooth, in fact, that Mal was almost relived to see a man, too tall and stocky to be Wash, standing in front of the shuttle in a firm you'll-never-get-past-me sort of way. Considering Kaylee'd all but spilled the plan, the smoothness of the whole thing was starting to worry Mal.
"You would be Mal, I presume," the man said, stepping forward to greet the rapidly approaching party.
"Captain Malcolm Reynolds," Mal said, he wanted to let go of River but he was afraid if he did she'd fall to the ground, so he made the best of it and hoped that he could look mighty and intimidating even as he tried to comfort a sobbing 17-year-old. "And who might you be?"
"Reginald Comworth," the man said. "I'm the governor of this planet and, coincidentally, Simon's godfather."
"So you're him," Mal said, his voice edgy. This man had won the admiration of both Kaylee and Inara, and it wasn't hard to see why. He looked just like everybody's favorite grandfather, jolly and plump, but still firm and strong, his voice was kind yet commanding and he seemed to exude good-will. He didn't seem like the typical Alliance headpiece, but after all, the man was a politician. "Can't really say I'm glad to meet you."
"I assume you'll be taking Simon and River."
"That is the plan," Mal said.
"You gonna try and stop us?" Jayne asked, clearly hoping the answer would be yes.
Jayne was disappointed.
"No," Comworth said. "I just wanted to say goodbye."
"Uncle Reggie," River said, pulling away from the Captain and throwing herself at the older man. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her on the top of her head.
"You'll always be in my prayers, River, dear," the old man said, choking a little.
"Your love didn't fail," The girl told the old man, pulling slightly away from him so he could see her smile up at him adoringly.
"I take it then," Mal said, trying not to sound harsh or insensitive. "That you're just gonna let us go."
"As I told your mechanic, I understand."
"Forgive me if I don't know the exact meaning of that extremely vague phrase as you're using it."
"You've cared for these children for the past few months, probably the most difficult months of their lives, and you care enough about them to ignore their substantial bounties and risk your lives to steal them away from this place."
"You ain't telling me anything I don't already know," Mal said.
"I understand that you are an honorable man. I understand that Simon and River are safer with you than they would be anywhere else. I understand that finding you is probably the best thing that could have happened to them. That is what I understand. And so, similarity, I understand that I have to let them go."
"No," River whimpered. "The world was tattered and faded but now we're ripping it apart."
"It's all right, sweetheart," Comworth said, stroking her hair lovingly.
"Come on, now," Mal said, stepping closer to the older man and the young girl. There was a second when the captain's eyes meet the governor's and then, Comworth looked down at River.
"You have to go now," He told her. "You know you do."
River nodded, and let Mal pull her out of the old man's arms.
"It's time we're leavin'," Mal said, glancing behind him at Jayne and Simon.
"Right," Jayne said, apparently unmoved by or unconcerned with what had just happened. He jogged past Mal and River, hurrying up to the door to the shuttle and pushing in the code. It slid open and Janye jumped in saying, "start her up."
The shuttle came to life, the whole landing pad was filled with the gentle hum of a well maintained engine and there was a sudden warm breeze from the displaced air as the small craft began to hover.
"Pleasure meetin' ya," Mal said, nodding respectfully towards the governor.
"The feeling is mutual," Comworth said.
"Simon," Mal called over his shoulder, to the near catatonic doctor. "Better say whatever good-byes you have. We can't dally here."
"Yes, sir," the boy said, not bothering to look at the captain. His sad gray eyes were fixed on Comworth, unblinking, as tears trickled down his cheeks.
Mal nodded and ushered River into the shuttle. "Let's give your brother some privacy," he told the girl.
"Simon needs more than that," she whispered. "Can you give him a heart unbroken?"
"No," Mal said, turning River around and sitting her on the companion's bed. "Ain't a soul alive who's got one."
To be continued . . .