Fragile by Proxii Bleu
VII
When Mal and River finally made it back to Serenity, Wash was pacing back and forth across the loading ramp, his face contorted with worry. Kaylee was trying to calm him down, but the words just went through one ear and out the other. Zoe was nowhere to be seen, but Inara was staring hard at Mal as he walked towards the ship, and soon he realized why. Not only were their passengers there, but apparently they had enough money to afford some Alliance guards to travel with them. That right there explained why Wash was doing the pacing instead of Simon.
Mal put a forced grin on his face, and hoped that River's appearance had changed enough for her not to be immediately recognized by the two men standing on either side of the small family. Mal stepped out of the glare of the sunlight, and then realized something about the way the men were dressed - they were wearing purple uniforms.
"Purple elephants are flying." That was what River had said only a month or so ago. Mal frowned heavily, and strode up the loading ramp with the younget Tam in tow. The two guards turned around, and stared at Mal as he stood there in the shadow of the loading bay door watching the small family with half-hearted interest.
"Can we help you?" asked one of the guards. Mal smiled broadly.
"Why sure, you can let me on my own ship." Wash pushed past the captain, and edged into the bay. One of the guards stopped him.
"I thought you said the other woman was in charge?"
"Zoe? She is, she's-"
"My second-in-command when I'm not around. I'm Captain Malcolm Reynolds, this is Serenity. The woman smiled at Mal warmly, her blue eyes dancing as she looked about the darkened interior of the ship. Her son next to her was about the same height as Wash with dark hair, and eyes like his mother. There was not father, and no other siblings...just a family of two like their message had said. The woman herself was tall, a full three inches over Mal's head, with pale blonde hair, and skin that was so thin he could see the veins in places. As the Captain stared at her he noticed that there was something about her eyes that just wasn't right. As if sensing his unease the woman smiled warmly, and extended her hand.
"Hello Captain, my name is Selma Ennes, your ship is Firelfly class?"
"Yep, and runs better than your standard luxury class." Selma grinned and stepped into the ship, the guards always at her side. For men who were supposed to be merely escorting a woman and her son, Wash noted that they were carrying .45 automatics, and never took their eyes off of their charge. If the pilot didn't know any better it would seem that they were somehow afraid of Miss. Ennes. In the meantime Mal led her into the ship.
"The crew takes their meals in the mess, you're welcome to join us, and the guest quarters are on the same level as the crew's. Where are you headed?" Ennes' eyes slid back to her escorts, and shrugged.
"I'll decided after a few days, for now I would prefer to just ride for now. I will be compensating you for any extra days should they arise." Mal nodded, and then looked at the guards.
"Will they be joining you?"
"No, they are merely my escorts. You're dismissed." The men nodded smartly, and left. There was something about this that Mal didn't like, but he had plenty of time to figure it out. In the meantime they had a schedule to keep.
"Wash load her up." Serenity's hydraulics groaned audibly as the loading bay door was raised, and the overhead lock lowered in place. Kaylee stood off to the side watching to make sure everything went smooth, while Wash secured the mule. River in the meantime was still following behind Mal, her eyes never leaving Selma who seemed just as interested in River, as the other was in her.
As soon as the doors were closed, and Wash had left to start preparing for liftoff, Mal decided to press the issue about the Alliance guards.
"What's with the goons when you came here?" Selma smiled as she followed Mal to the guest quarters, and set her duffel bag down on her bed. Her son was in the room across the hall, and seemed to have an aptitude for silence.
"Well I've lived on both Alliance worlds, and on Independents. If you're wondering I was neutral in the war, as for my quards I like to follow the old saying about keeping your friends close, and your enemies closer."
"How many enemies do you have?" Selma brushed a yellow lock of hair out of her eyes and shrugged.
"Lets just say I have enough that I'm a widow, and have nights where I lay awake wondering if everything I've done, not matter how good the intentions was the right thing to do." Mal looked down at the floor, it was as if she was talking about him, but not. He couldn't out words to it.
"Yeah, I know what you mean. What do you do for a living?"
"By day?"
"Well, yeah let's start with that."
"I work as an archaeologist."
"And by night?" Selma smiled, and walked over to where Mal stood. Again he got that same strange feeling from her as if she was staring at him naked, instead of dressed in dusty work clothes.
"Well captain, there are some things that a lady prefers to keep to herself." With that she slid the door to her room shut, leaving Mal standing out in the hall by himself. Turning around, he started to hed to the loading bay to check on the cargo, when he bumped into River.
"Hey, you're supposed to be in your room."
"She is not what she seems." Mal' smile vanished as he stared at River.
"What?"
"She is not what she seems."
"What is she then?" River struggled to say something coherent, but the damage inflicted on her mind caused a string of code to come out instead.
"She is everything I am not. I am broken, my mind still unable to gather all of the ocean's drops so that I may see again. I have...cupfuls of water, and as I pour them into the chasm they begin to fill in, and flow to make me a River again." Mal really wasn't good at riddles, but if Wash said was true, then this was the only way River could communicate when the damaged parts of her mind tried to work as they had before.
"And how is she like you? Because her ocean is dried up?"
"No, her ocean is full, and ripe with life. She is like me because she can look into the waters of others, and see what is beneath the waves. She it not like me because her ocean is uniform, I am still carrying cupfuls to the edge of the shore." With that River turned, and walked down the hallway glumly. Inside, she knew what she was trying to say, but as usual it came out in a string of gibberish that Mal would either never figure out, or write off as a result of the damage done to her mind.
At any rate, this time it was up to her to keep an eye on everything that the crew didn't see. Especially since the vulture was flying close behind, and would soon overtake them in the night. But hopefully it would be slain by the blue hands, and they in turn by the vulture as it struggled against it's Death.
***
Shepard Book wandered around the darkened corridors of Serenity, his mind turning over the events of the day as he walked. This time of night (even though it was always night in space), the ship was queit, and he did not have to worry to much about being bothered by one of the crew. Today had been interesting, he had found some old books on Taoism, entertained a troubled young man until his problems had quieted, and had still enough time to look at some new weapons designs while on the prowl.
The only thing that he could think of that was even remotely out of the ordinary was seeing his old colleague Stam, after years of absence. Normally he would have gone over, and reminisced about their times together in the service, but there was something about his old friend's appearance that had stopped him in his tracks, and caused him to duck into a nearby alley.
Stam had been wearing blue gloves.
At first Book had not believed his eyes, but there they were in all of their latex glory. He had always assumed the Stam had as little use for the Alliance as Book's employers, but it appeared the he had been wrong. As a result he was thankful that he had never tried to recruit the other man, doing so might have put too many people at risk, including the other group that had been responsible for aiding River's brother in her escape.
There were many things that the Preacher knew about, and subjects that would never cross his lips again. But he had known all about River Tam and her brother, long before her brother Simon had ever set foot aboard Serenity. His position on the ship was convienient, and the result of strategic planning. There was no coincidence involved, but River did worry him. There were times when he was sure that she suspected something, but never a word crossed her lips. Then again, most of the time she was trapped in her own mind as a result of residual damage to her frontal lobe, the area of the brain that controlled speech.
It was no surprise that she was incapable of coherent speech, over time her condition would probably improve, but she would never be able to speek with the same clarity as she had before they had performed their procedures on her. Book shook his head sadly, and walked into the mess where a famliar face greeted him from the shawdows. Smiling grimly he strode over to the sink, and pured himself a glass of water.
"Hello Selma, I see that you've left Daradanelles." The archaeologist smiled from where she stood leaning against the wall, and ran a slim finger around the lip of her cup.
"It's been a long time, what name are you going by now? Or should I say profession?"
"My name is Shepard Book, and that is all you need to know."
"For now." Selma sat down at the table, and sipped her coffee. It was imitation, not the real stuff that she had drank while living on Ariel, but she was the type of person who appreciated whatever she had on hand.
"You're following them." It wasn't a question, rather a statement. Selma shruffed, and set down her mug.
"I helped her brother when he needed me too. If I hadn't our organization would have lost a valuable human being to the Alliance. You and I know very well what they were going to do to her, and you know why. Probably more than I do." Book smiled, and helped himsef to his water. It wasn't often he got to talk to an old friend, less and only one he could be certain was on the same side as himself.
"I have heard rumors, but there is no way to confirm them. Any of our operatives who have reached that level of information have either been neautralized, crossed over, or are in so deep that they are unable to relay any information lest they put themselves at risk. You know this better than anyone." Selma twisted her wedding ring around her finger, and looked sadly over at the window in the far corner.
"Bruce was the best man I ever knew. There aren't many like him."
"No, there aren't. I'm sure our group felt his loss deeply."
"More than you know. I can see how hard it is on Jordan, I can 'feel' how hard it is on him at times, but I can't change what happened. Only make it count for something." The two sat in silence for a few minutes more, before Book cleared his throat.
"What brings you here exactly? Last I heard you were headed to Cottle?"
"River."
"Ah, do you think that you can help her?"
"Maybe, if I can get close enough to her, but if the damage is too severe I don't think there would be anything I could do for her."
"From what I've seen she appears to be healing herself. It's taking time, but each day I notice a visible change. She's been more coherent, lucid, there are times when she can actually conjugate a sentence." Selma smiled broadly.
"That's a good sign. But what of the data that we gleaned from Robson?"
"The disc was supposed to be in a shop somewhere here on Harvest, however by the time I got there operatives from the PSIOPS program had laready terminated the owner."
"Sonic wand?"
"Precisely." Selma shook her head, and stretched until the bones popped in her back.
"I know that someone has to have it, according to one of our men who was on watch, he thinks that it might have been purchased since the observation drone sent back an image indicating that it was gone from under the counter where it had been stored."
"Do we know who purchased it?"
"No, but I believe that we will find out sooner rather than later." Book nodded, and rose from his seat.
"I would love to finish this conversation, but now is the time when the ship's engineer starts wandering around looking for something to fix, or someone to talk to."
"Let me guess, duty calls?" Book chuckled, and walked out of the mess hall. Selma rose from her seat, and started heading out into the corridor when something stopped her. Looking about she tried to locate the dusturbance, but saw nothing. Shaking her head, she walked out of the mess, but not before looking up at the ceiling where a darked shadow was twisted about the pipes. Smiling, she wandered off into her room, and began to plan.
***
Mal lay in bed thinking about the events of the day. River's odd warning, Selma's strange vibes. There was something about what River said that made sense, but in what context still eluded him. How was Selma like her? How was Selma not like her? Or was the comparison the result of the damage done to her mind. Rolling over on his side, Mal came face-to-face with a pair of white legs. Letting out a startled yell, he jumped out of bed, and turned on the light.
River stood next to Mal's bed staring at him quizzically, her brown eyes following him as he jerked a sheet off of the bed, and wrapped it around himself. River sat down on his bed, yogi style, and waited patiently for the captain to calm down.
"River what are you doing in here?"
"I cannot sleep."
"That's not my problem."
"Yes it is, I cannot sleep because the vulture is coming." Mal's mouth turned down, and soon his body followed as he collapsed on the mattress. It was obvious that she wasn't going to leave, and trying to force her out might attract the attention of the mysterious archaeologist.
"River there are no vultures in space."
"Yes there is, he flys everywhere, searching for fresh meat. He is never satisfied, and always hungers for more." Mal sighed.
"Are you talking about Reavers River?"
"I am not talking about feral wolves Mal, I am talking about the Vulture."
"River, I don't know what you're saying, I can't understand you. You - you talk in code, in metaphors, not everyone says things this way." The younger Tam shook her head in frustration. Mal grumbled to himself, his eyes wandering around the room in search of something River could use to communicate.
In the corner was a writing flexi.
"Here," Mal got up from the bed, and picked up the small silicone slip and it's stylus. "Use this." Putting the device in front of her he watched as River eagerly scribbled down something. Looking plased, she handed it back to Malcolm.
Can you understand this? Mal nodded as he read the passage, and handed it back to River. Perchance there was some chance of progress.
"Okay River why can't you sleep? Other than this vulture?" River wrote on the flexi, and handed it back.
"The blue hands are searching for me...not so much for me...I am a bonus...but the disc."
"Why?"
"Because it is real, it is outside of what we see, and they think that they can harness it. They are really stupid." Mal laughed at what she had written, and then returned the slip.
"Okay, can you tell me who the blue hands are?"
"PSIOPS, they work within the Alliance. I am hunted, like so many others. But there are more than they can capture at once, not without revealing their agendas, so the set traps, and I was placed in one."
"Placed, no that's not how traps work River."
"Yes it is, if your father knows the trap is there, and feels that by placing you there he is hiding his shame." Mal's mouth set into a hard line as he read what she had written. No wonder River seemed to hate her past more and more as she recovered.
"What do these PSIOPS want?"
"Everything."
"Like?"
"To cloudy still, holes in my mind."
"Okay, okay. I don't want your mind to get any holier than it is now, but can you tell me who the vulture is?" River wrote something on the flexi, her hands stilling as she let the slip fall from her hands.
"Niska."
VIII
"Zoe you need to eat more." Wash stood in the infirmary trying to hold as still as possible while Simon checked his cast, his eyes following Zoe as she paced back and forth, absently rubbing her midsection.
"I don't need you to keep putting three plates of food in front of me everytime I sit down."
"If I didn't you wouldn't eat at all."
"I eat just fine."
"You need more vitamins."
"If you put one more ground up pill into my coffee honey, I'll strangle you with my bare hands."
"Ahem." Simon cleared his throat, catching the couple's attention. Zoe stopped her pacing, Wash quit whining, and for once there was some actual slience in the medbay. Simon took a flexi out of one of his drawers, and gave it to Zoe.
"Here is a list of the supplements you need to take daily, and the amounts of food you should be eating during each trimester. Hopefully this will stop this go se once and for all." Wash stared at the flexi in Zoe's hands.
"It doesn't say anything about morning sickness, or when she kicks me out of the bed in the middle of the night, or why she suddenly says I smell bad." Simon leaned against one of the nearby counters. There were times when being a doctor was a very difficult job.
"The morning sickess should clear up in a month or two, if Zoe is hot at night due to the hormonal changes in her body, Wash you could try lying on top of the blankets, or Zoe you could try sleeping on top and leave Wash on the bottom. As for the smell, in some pregnancies certain odors that are usually non-irritants to women can because intolerable, if this happens, just take an extra shower."
"Thank you doctor." Zoe left with Wash in tow. The two were halfway to mess when they ran into Jayne.
"So, you really did knock her up?" Wash's mouth turned down at the corners as he stared at the mercenary, and resisted an urder to tell him to shove his head up his ass.
"Yes, Zoe is going to have a baby."
"I never woulda believed it if I hadn't heard it from the captain, with you being a woman and all." Wash made for Jayne, only to be stopped by Zoe holding on to the back of his shirt. Stepping forward she stared the mercenary in the eye, her hand resting casually on the hilt of her gun.
"Don't you have someplace to be Cobb? You know checking the cargo, or standing in an airlock?" Jayne's face fell as he realized that Zoe knew about his run-in with Mal, and immediately backed off.
"I was just kidding around."
"Kid elsewhere." Jayne huffed, and strode away towards the loading bay.
"Yeah, I wouldn't want to break up you and your girlfriend's little meeting." Zoe shouted a few nasty sentiments at his retreating backside, and dragged Wash into the kitchen where River, Book, and Selma were already seated having breakfast.
River was there with Selma?
Zoe walked carefully into the room, and helped herself to some eggs and bacon. Wash followed suit, and sat down next to his wife at the table. Selma was quietly drinking her coffe, and reading a small book bound in red leather. Wash noted what she had in her hand, and pointed it out.
"Is that a real book?" Selma nodded.
"Its ancient Earth poetry. Ray Bradbury."
"Shiny, I didn't think books still existed these days." Selma set it down, and took her plate to the sink.
"They're rare, but you can usually find one or two in a few trinket or oddity shops. I restored that one, when I first bought it, the pages were filty, and the outer cover was nothing but two thin pieces of wood clapped together." Wash examined the small vulume, but before he could pick it up it was in River's hands. Book made a grab for it, but she was gone before the preacher even had a chance to get out of his seat. Zoe rose to follow behind her, but Selma held up her hand.
"My book, my responsibility. I'll get it."
"Mal's sister can be very possessive when she gets her hands on something, you might need help." Selma smirked, and drifted out the door.
"I'll be fine." she called behind her. Serenity's corridors were long, dimly lit, and difficult to sneak around in. Selma could already tell where River was at, but finding her was proving difficult. Time to do things the old-fashioned away.
"River?" No answer. "You know when I was a girl, things used to be very confusing for me too." Silence greeted her in the cargo bay.
"When I was thirteen I remember that there was so much noise I could hardly think at times, but as I got older I learned how to enjoy silence." There, in the corner was a small noise. Following it, Selma crept around a crate, and looked down at River who was curled up against the wall. At this distance she could feel the pain, confusion, and fear radiating off of the girl in waves.
Kneeling down, she looked at River. Her blue eyes probing into the girl's dark ones, searching through the mess that was in there. The Alliance had damaged her allright, but not to the point where she couldn't be helped. Reaching out she lay her hand against River's cheek, and sorted through the confusion, pain, and fear until she could feel the girl comprehending what she was doing, and why. The broken pieces falling into place until the ocean began to form from the drops. Closing in on her goal, she was almost there until she felt another presence entering the room. Damn! It was too soon. Giving River what she needed to hopefully finish the process on her own, Selma began to pull her hand away just as Simon jerked her away from his sister.
"What are you doing to her?" River's head had been tilted back, her brown eyes blank as Selma traveled through the broken corridors of her mind. Simon shoved the archaeologist hard, and knelt to examine his sister.
"River are you alright?"
"I was helping her."
"Stay away from her!" Selma opened her mouth to say something else when a hand closed around her wrist, and spun her around. Mal stood there glaring at Ennes with a dark look on his face. She knew that any chance she had of further helping River was gone, and she was right.
"Miss Ennes, you are confined to quarters until further notice. I suggest you start making up your mind on where you and your son want to be dropped off." Selma jerked her arm out of Mal's grip, and stared hard at him.
"I was helping her, she already told you how I could, but you are just too damn stupid to understand. Don't worry, I know the way back to my room." With that she trooped off, Jayne following behind her as she stormed up the stairs. Simon in the meantime had helped River to her feet. She still looked dazed, but there was an unusual clarity in her eyes.
"I was almost an ocean again, but now I am a sea. The droplets more than cupfuls now, flowing steadily into the abyss filling it again."
"You're going to be okay, everything's fine now." River shook her head.
"Not because of you Simon, I have the key now, but the lock is not ready for it. The sea must because calm, before it can become an ocean. Too much drops now, and it will drown me." Simon just nodded, and helped River to the medbay. Out of all the people present Mal was probably the only person why had even a clue of what River was talking about, but currently he had bigger things to worry about.
Heading upstairs, he made his way to the cockpit where Wash was currently engaged in a fierce battle between his plastic dinosaurs. Again, Mal had to wonder why someone like Zoe would even marry someone like Wash, but as the Shepard would say, opposites attract.
"Wash, I need to know if you've detected any ships within our area?"
"Following, or just drifting about while we layover here before heading to Whitehead?"
"Either." Wash put down his toys, and scanned through the information on one of his readout displays.
"Nothing, not even an asteroid. Any reason why?"
"Just keeping my eyes open. Continue with...whatever you were doing." Mal left his pilot to his dinos, and want to see what Inara was up to. He didn't believe that River was wrong, but then again he couldn't be sure if she was picking up on his own personal fears of Niska, or actually detecting something that wasn't there.
At least not there in the physical sense of the word.
Tapping on the door of Inara's shuttle he waited patiently for her to answer. There was no reply. Raising his hand again, he prepared to knock once more but stopped when he heard what sounded like crying from the other side of the door.
Inara was crying? Mal pressed his ear against the metal and listened. His ears weren't decieving him. He remembered what Wash had said about Inara and Jayne's minds, but at the time he had believed that the girl had been wrong about the Companion. Now, he didn't know what to think.
Turning on his heel, Mal left, and headed for his quarters. Maybe everything would make sense in the morning after a good night's sleep.
VII
When Mal and River finally made it back to Serenity, Wash was pacing back and forth across the loading ramp, his face contorted with worry. Kaylee was trying to calm him down, but the words just went through one ear and out the other. Zoe was nowhere to be seen, but Inara was staring hard at Mal as he walked towards the ship, and soon he realized why. Not only were their passengers there, but apparently they had enough money to afford some Alliance guards to travel with them. That right there explained why Wash was doing the pacing instead of Simon.
Mal put a forced grin on his face, and hoped that River's appearance had changed enough for her not to be immediately recognized by the two men standing on either side of the small family. Mal stepped out of the glare of the sunlight, and then realized something about the way the men were dressed - they were wearing purple uniforms.
"Purple elephants are flying." That was what River had said only a month or so ago. Mal frowned heavily, and strode up the loading ramp with the younget Tam in tow. The two guards turned around, and stared at Mal as he stood there in the shadow of the loading bay door watching the small family with half-hearted interest.
"Can we help you?" asked one of the guards. Mal smiled broadly.
"Why sure, you can let me on my own ship." Wash pushed past the captain, and edged into the bay. One of the guards stopped him.
"I thought you said the other woman was in charge?"
"Zoe? She is, she's-"
"My second-in-command when I'm not around. I'm Captain Malcolm Reynolds, this is Serenity. The woman smiled at Mal warmly, her blue eyes dancing as she looked about the darkened interior of the ship. Her son next to her was about the same height as Wash with dark hair, and eyes like his mother. There was not father, and no other siblings...just a family of two like their message had said. The woman herself was tall, a full three inches over Mal's head, with pale blonde hair, and skin that was so thin he could see the veins in places. As the Captain stared at her he noticed that there was something about her eyes that just wasn't right. As if sensing his unease the woman smiled warmly, and extended her hand.
"Hello Captain, my name is Selma Ennes, your ship is Firelfly class?"
"Yep, and runs better than your standard luxury class." Selma grinned and stepped into the ship, the guards always at her side. For men who were supposed to be merely escorting a woman and her son, Wash noted that they were carrying .45 automatics, and never took their eyes off of their charge. If the pilot didn't know any better it would seem that they were somehow afraid of Miss. Ennes. In the meantime Mal led her into the ship.
"The crew takes their meals in the mess, you're welcome to join us, and the guest quarters are on the same level as the crew's. Where are you headed?" Ennes' eyes slid back to her escorts, and shrugged.
"I'll decided after a few days, for now I would prefer to just ride for now. I will be compensating you for any extra days should they arise." Mal nodded, and then looked at the guards.
"Will they be joining you?"
"No, they are merely my escorts. You're dismissed." The men nodded smartly, and left. There was something about this that Mal didn't like, but he had plenty of time to figure it out. In the meantime they had a schedule to keep.
"Wash load her up." Serenity's hydraulics groaned audibly as the loading bay door was raised, and the overhead lock lowered in place. Kaylee stood off to the side watching to make sure everything went smooth, while Wash secured the mule. River in the meantime was still following behind Mal, her eyes never leaving Selma who seemed just as interested in River, as the other was in her.
As soon as the doors were closed, and Wash had left to start preparing for liftoff, Mal decided to press the issue about the Alliance guards.
"What's with the goons when you came here?" Selma smiled as she followed Mal to the guest quarters, and set her duffel bag down on her bed. Her son was in the room across the hall, and seemed to have an aptitude for silence.
"Well I've lived on both Alliance worlds, and on Independents. If you're wondering I was neutral in the war, as for my quards I like to follow the old saying about keeping your friends close, and your enemies closer."
"How many enemies do you have?" Selma brushed a yellow lock of hair out of her eyes and shrugged.
"Lets just say I have enough that I'm a widow, and have nights where I lay awake wondering if everything I've done, not matter how good the intentions was the right thing to do." Mal looked down at the floor, it was as if she was talking about him, but not. He couldn't out words to it.
"Yeah, I know what you mean. What do you do for a living?"
"By day?"
"Well, yeah let's start with that."
"I work as an archaeologist."
"And by night?" Selma smiled, and walked over to where Mal stood. Again he got that same strange feeling from her as if she was staring at him naked, instead of dressed in dusty work clothes.
"Well captain, there are some things that a lady prefers to keep to herself." With that she slid the door to her room shut, leaving Mal standing out in the hall by himself. Turning around, he started to hed to the loading bay to check on the cargo, when he bumped into River.
"Hey, you're supposed to be in your room."
"She is not what she seems." Mal' smile vanished as he stared at River.
"What?"
"She is not what she seems."
"What is she then?" River struggled to say something coherent, but the damage inflicted on her mind caused a string of code to come out instead.
"She is everything I am not. I am broken, my mind still unable to gather all of the ocean's drops so that I may see again. I have...cupfuls of water, and as I pour them into the chasm they begin to fill in, and flow to make me a River again." Mal really wasn't good at riddles, but if Wash said was true, then this was the only way River could communicate when the damaged parts of her mind tried to work as they had before.
"And how is she like you? Because her ocean is dried up?"
"No, her ocean is full, and ripe with life. She is like me because she can look into the waters of others, and see what is beneath the waves. She it not like me because her ocean is uniform, I am still carrying cupfuls to the edge of the shore." With that River turned, and walked down the hallway glumly. Inside, she knew what she was trying to say, but as usual it came out in a string of gibberish that Mal would either never figure out, or write off as a result of the damage done to her mind.
At any rate, this time it was up to her to keep an eye on everything that the crew didn't see. Especially since the vulture was flying close behind, and would soon overtake them in the night. But hopefully it would be slain by the blue hands, and they in turn by the vulture as it struggled against it's Death.
***
Shepard Book wandered around the darkened corridors of Serenity, his mind turning over the events of the day as he walked. This time of night (even though it was always night in space), the ship was queit, and he did not have to worry to much about being bothered by one of the crew. Today had been interesting, he had found some old books on Taoism, entertained a troubled young man until his problems had quieted, and had still enough time to look at some new weapons designs while on the prowl.
The only thing that he could think of that was even remotely out of the ordinary was seeing his old colleague Stam, after years of absence. Normally he would have gone over, and reminisced about their times together in the service, but there was something about his old friend's appearance that had stopped him in his tracks, and caused him to duck into a nearby alley.
Stam had been wearing blue gloves.
At first Book had not believed his eyes, but there they were in all of their latex glory. He had always assumed the Stam had as little use for the Alliance as Book's employers, but it appeared the he had been wrong. As a result he was thankful that he had never tried to recruit the other man, doing so might have put too many people at risk, including the other group that had been responsible for aiding River's brother in her escape.
There were many things that the Preacher knew about, and subjects that would never cross his lips again. But he had known all about River Tam and her brother, long before her brother Simon had ever set foot aboard Serenity. His position on the ship was convienient, and the result of strategic planning. There was no coincidence involved, but River did worry him. There were times when he was sure that she suspected something, but never a word crossed her lips. Then again, most of the time she was trapped in her own mind as a result of residual damage to her frontal lobe, the area of the brain that controlled speech.
It was no surprise that she was incapable of coherent speech, over time her condition would probably improve, but she would never be able to speek with the same clarity as she had before they had performed their procedures on her. Book shook his head sadly, and walked into the mess where a famliar face greeted him from the shawdows. Smiling grimly he strode over to the sink, and pured himself a glass of water.
"Hello Selma, I see that you've left Daradanelles." The archaeologist smiled from where she stood leaning against the wall, and ran a slim finger around the lip of her cup.
"It's been a long time, what name are you going by now? Or should I say profession?"
"My name is Shepard Book, and that is all you need to know."
"For now." Selma sat down at the table, and sipped her coffee. It was imitation, not the real stuff that she had drank while living on Ariel, but she was the type of person who appreciated whatever she had on hand.
"You're following them." It wasn't a question, rather a statement. Selma shruffed, and set down her mug.
"I helped her brother when he needed me too. If I hadn't our organization would have lost a valuable human being to the Alliance. You and I know very well what they were going to do to her, and you know why. Probably more than I do." Book smiled, and helped himsef to his water. It wasn't often he got to talk to an old friend, less and only one he could be certain was on the same side as himself.
"I have heard rumors, but there is no way to confirm them. Any of our operatives who have reached that level of information have either been neautralized, crossed over, or are in so deep that they are unable to relay any information lest they put themselves at risk. You know this better than anyone." Selma twisted her wedding ring around her finger, and looked sadly over at the window in the far corner.
"Bruce was the best man I ever knew. There aren't many like him."
"No, there aren't. I'm sure our group felt his loss deeply."
"More than you know. I can see how hard it is on Jordan, I can 'feel' how hard it is on him at times, but I can't change what happened. Only make it count for something." The two sat in silence for a few minutes more, before Book cleared his throat.
"What brings you here exactly? Last I heard you were headed to Cottle?"
"River."
"Ah, do you think that you can help her?"
"Maybe, if I can get close enough to her, but if the damage is too severe I don't think there would be anything I could do for her."
"From what I've seen she appears to be healing herself. It's taking time, but each day I notice a visible change. She's been more coherent, lucid, there are times when she can actually conjugate a sentence." Selma smiled broadly.
"That's a good sign. But what of the data that we gleaned from Robson?"
"The disc was supposed to be in a shop somewhere here on Harvest, however by the time I got there operatives from the PSIOPS program had laready terminated the owner."
"Sonic wand?"
"Precisely." Selma shook her head, and stretched until the bones popped in her back.
"I know that someone has to have it, according to one of our men who was on watch, he thinks that it might have been purchased since the observation drone sent back an image indicating that it was gone from under the counter where it had been stored."
"Do we know who purchased it?"
"No, but I believe that we will find out sooner rather than later." Book nodded, and rose from his seat.
"I would love to finish this conversation, but now is the time when the ship's engineer starts wandering around looking for something to fix, or someone to talk to."
"Let me guess, duty calls?" Book chuckled, and walked out of the mess hall. Selma rose from her seat, and started heading out into the corridor when something stopped her. Looking about she tried to locate the dusturbance, but saw nothing. Shaking her head, she walked out of the mess, but not before looking up at the ceiling where a darked shadow was twisted about the pipes. Smiling, she wandered off into her room, and began to plan.
***
Mal lay in bed thinking about the events of the day. River's odd warning, Selma's strange vibes. There was something about what River said that made sense, but in what context still eluded him. How was Selma like her? How was Selma not like her? Or was the comparison the result of the damage done to her mind. Rolling over on his side, Mal came face-to-face with a pair of white legs. Letting out a startled yell, he jumped out of bed, and turned on the light.
River stood next to Mal's bed staring at him quizzically, her brown eyes following him as he jerked a sheet off of the bed, and wrapped it around himself. River sat down on his bed, yogi style, and waited patiently for the captain to calm down.
"River what are you doing in here?"
"I cannot sleep."
"That's not my problem."
"Yes it is, I cannot sleep because the vulture is coming." Mal's mouth turned down, and soon his body followed as he collapsed on the mattress. It was obvious that she wasn't going to leave, and trying to force her out might attract the attention of the mysterious archaeologist.
"River there are no vultures in space."
"Yes there is, he flys everywhere, searching for fresh meat. He is never satisfied, and always hungers for more." Mal sighed.
"Are you talking about Reavers River?"
"I am not talking about feral wolves Mal, I am talking about the Vulture."
"River, I don't know what you're saying, I can't understand you. You - you talk in code, in metaphors, not everyone says things this way." The younger Tam shook her head in frustration. Mal grumbled to himself, his eyes wandering around the room in search of something River could use to communicate.
In the corner was a writing flexi.
"Here," Mal got up from the bed, and picked up the small silicone slip and it's stylus. "Use this." Putting the device in front of her he watched as River eagerly scribbled down something. Looking plased, she handed it back to Malcolm.
Can you understand this? Mal nodded as he read the passage, and handed it back to River. Perchance there was some chance of progress.
"Okay River why can't you sleep? Other than this vulture?" River wrote on the flexi, and handed it back.
"The blue hands are searching for me...not so much for me...I am a bonus...but the disc."
"Why?"
"Because it is real, it is outside of what we see, and they think that they can harness it. They are really stupid." Mal laughed at what she had written, and then returned the slip.
"Okay, can you tell me who the blue hands are?"
"PSIOPS, they work within the Alliance. I am hunted, like so many others. But there are more than they can capture at once, not without revealing their agendas, so the set traps, and I was placed in one."
"Placed, no that's not how traps work River."
"Yes it is, if your father knows the trap is there, and feels that by placing you there he is hiding his shame." Mal's mouth set into a hard line as he read what she had written. No wonder River seemed to hate her past more and more as she recovered.
"What do these PSIOPS want?"
"Everything."
"Like?"
"To cloudy still, holes in my mind."
"Okay, okay. I don't want your mind to get any holier than it is now, but can you tell me who the vulture is?" River wrote something on the flexi, her hands stilling as she let the slip fall from her hands.
"Niska."
VIII
"Zoe you need to eat more." Wash stood in the infirmary trying to hold as still as possible while Simon checked his cast, his eyes following Zoe as she paced back and forth, absently rubbing her midsection.
"I don't need you to keep putting three plates of food in front of me everytime I sit down."
"If I didn't you wouldn't eat at all."
"I eat just fine."
"You need more vitamins."
"If you put one more ground up pill into my coffee honey, I'll strangle you with my bare hands."
"Ahem." Simon cleared his throat, catching the couple's attention. Zoe stopped her pacing, Wash quit whining, and for once there was some actual slience in the medbay. Simon took a flexi out of one of his drawers, and gave it to Zoe.
"Here is a list of the supplements you need to take daily, and the amounts of food you should be eating during each trimester. Hopefully this will stop this go se once and for all." Wash stared at the flexi in Zoe's hands.
"It doesn't say anything about morning sickness, or when she kicks me out of the bed in the middle of the night, or why she suddenly says I smell bad." Simon leaned against one of the nearby counters. There were times when being a doctor was a very difficult job.
"The morning sickess should clear up in a month or two, if Zoe is hot at night due to the hormonal changes in her body, Wash you could try lying on top of the blankets, or Zoe you could try sleeping on top and leave Wash on the bottom. As for the smell, in some pregnancies certain odors that are usually non-irritants to women can because intolerable, if this happens, just take an extra shower."
"Thank you doctor." Zoe left with Wash in tow. The two were halfway to mess when they ran into Jayne.
"So, you really did knock her up?" Wash's mouth turned down at the corners as he stared at the mercenary, and resisted an urder to tell him to shove his head up his ass.
"Yes, Zoe is going to have a baby."
"I never woulda believed it if I hadn't heard it from the captain, with you being a woman and all." Wash made for Jayne, only to be stopped by Zoe holding on to the back of his shirt. Stepping forward she stared the mercenary in the eye, her hand resting casually on the hilt of her gun.
"Don't you have someplace to be Cobb? You know checking the cargo, or standing in an airlock?" Jayne's face fell as he realized that Zoe knew about his run-in with Mal, and immediately backed off.
"I was just kidding around."
"Kid elsewhere." Jayne huffed, and strode away towards the loading bay.
"Yeah, I wouldn't want to break up you and your girlfriend's little meeting." Zoe shouted a few nasty sentiments at his retreating backside, and dragged Wash into the kitchen where River, Book, and Selma were already seated having breakfast.
River was there with Selma?
Zoe walked carefully into the room, and helped herself to some eggs and bacon. Wash followed suit, and sat down next to his wife at the table. Selma was quietly drinking her coffe, and reading a small book bound in red leather. Wash noted what she had in her hand, and pointed it out.
"Is that a real book?" Selma nodded.
"Its ancient Earth poetry. Ray Bradbury."
"Shiny, I didn't think books still existed these days." Selma set it down, and took her plate to the sink.
"They're rare, but you can usually find one or two in a few trinket or oddity shops. I restored that one, when I first bought it, the pages were filty, and the outer cover was nothing but two thin pieces of wood clapped together." Wash examined the small vulume, but before he could pick it up it was in River's hands. Book made a grab for it, but she was gone before the preacher even had a chance to get out of his seat. Zoe rose to follow behind her, but Selma held up her hand.
"My book, my responsibility. I'll get it."
"Mal's sister can be very possessive when she gets her hands on something, you might need help." Selma smirked, and drifted out the door.
"I'll be fine." she called behind her. Serenity's corridors were long, dimly lit, and difficult to sneak around in. Selma could already tell where River was at, but finding her was proving difficult. Time to do things the old-fashioned away.
"River?" No answer. "You know when I was a girl, things used to be very confusing for me too." Silence greeted her in the cargo bay.
"When I was thirteen I remember that there was so much noise I could hardly think at times, but as I got older I learned how to enjoy silence." There, in the corner was a small noise. Following it, Selma crept around a crate, and looked down at River who was curled up against the wall. At this distance she could feel the pain, confusion, and fear radiating off of the girl in waves.
Kneeling down, she looked at River. Her blue eyes probing into the girl's dark ones, searching through the mess that was in there. The Alliance had damaged her allright, but not to the point where she couldn't be helped. Reaching out she lay her hand against River's cheek, and sorted through the confusion, pain, and fear until she could feel the girl comprehending what she was doing, and why. The broken pieces falling into place until the ocean began to form from the drops. Closing in on her goal, she was almost there until she felt another presence entering the room. Damn! It was too soon. Giving River what she needed to hopefully finish the process on her own, Selma began to pull her hand away just as Simon jerked her away from his sister.
"What are you doing to her?" River's head had been tilted back, her brown eyes blank as Selma traveled through the broken corridors of her mind. Simon shoved the archaeologist hard, and knelt to examine his sister.
"River are you alright?"
"I was helping her."
"Stay away from her!" Selma opened her mouth to say something else when a hand closed around her wrist, and spun her around. Mal stood there glaring at Ennes with a dark look on his face. She knew that any chance she had of further helping River was gone, and she was right.
"Miss Ennes, you are confined to quarters until further notice. I suggest you start making up your mind on where you and your son want to be dropped off." Selma jerked her arm out of Mal's grip, and stared hard at him.
"I was helping her, she already told you how I could, but you are just too damn stupid to understand. Don't worry, I know the way back to my room." With that she trooped off, Jayne following behind her as she stormed up the stairs. Simon in the meantime had helped River to her feet. She still looked dazed, but there was an unusual clarity in her eyes.
"I was almost an ocean again, but now I am a sea. The droplets more than cupfuls now, flowing steadily into the abyss filling it again."
"You're going to be okay, everything's fine now." River shook her head.
"Not because of you Simon, I have the key now, but the lock is not ready for it. The sea must because calm, before it can become an ocean. Too much drops now, and it will drown me." Simon just nodded, and helped River to the medbay. Out of all the people present Mal was probably the only person why had even a clue of what River was talking about, but currently he had bigger things to worry about.
Heading upstairs, he made his way to the cockpit where Wash was currently engaged in a fierce battle between his plastic dinosaurs. Again, Mal had to wonder why someone like Zoe would even marry someone like Wash, but as the Shepard would say, opposites attract.
"Wash, I need to know if you've detected any ships within our area?"
"Following, or just drifting about while we layover here before heading to Whitehead?"
"Either." Wash put down his toys, and scanned through the information on one of his readout displays.
"Nothing, not even an asteroid. Any reason why?"
"Just keeping my eyes open. Continue with...whatever you were doing." Mal left his pilot to his dinos, and want to see what Inara was up to. He didn't believe that River was wrong, but then again he couldn't be sure if she was picking up on his own personal fears of Niska, or actually detecting something that wasn't there.
At least not there in the physical sense of the word.
Tapping on the door of Inara's shuttle he waited patiently for her to answer. There was no reply. Raising his hand again, he prepared to knock once more but stopped when he heard what sounded like crying from the other side of the door.
Inara was crying? Mal pressed his ear against the metal and listened. His ears weren't decieving him. He remembered what Wash had said about Inara and Jayne's minds, but at the time he had believed that the girl had been wrong about the Companion. Now, he didn't know what to think.
Turning on his heel, Mal left, and headed for his quarters. Maybe everything would make sense in the morning after a good night's sleep.