Chapter 6

The thunder had died outside their shelter, which meant that someone had landed. That was probably not such good news. He looked in Amber's direction, and asked, "So, do you think it's possible that Jules made a conscious choice, that he chose to come to this place?"

Book could see her eyes now, reflecting the moonlight. Shorty, the moon would rise enough to be off her face. She clearly hadn't expected the question, and was some time thinking.

"But... there's nothing here. Why would he?"

Book smiled. She was still considering the question, and that was good. "Well, if the Buddhists are right, maybe he was in a hectic place in his last life and wants a rest. Maybe... he specifically set on you as the best possible mother available at the time."

A brief flash of teeth in the dark, as a smile stuttered across her face. "No, I'm no mother...."

"Not yet. Not entirely."

"No. Not ever. You don't understand what it's like here." She wiped a hand across her cheek. "If you knew...."

"You're making assumptions about me, now," he replied, still smiling. "For all you know, my life started on a less appealing place than Ebenezer. Maybe like Higgins' Moon or Jiang Shr? There are worse places, and people still have children there."

"Irresponsible bastards have children in places like that."

Book felt his smile slip a little, and shored it. "True. But not exclusively, and that doesn't have mean the child will be the same. Sometimes, even in the most backwards of places, a great poet or philosopher might be born. Neither you nor I can judge how a child may grow, wherever it is born."

She shook her head emphatically. "That's the problem. What if it's a smart boy? What if every day, he feels...." She gestured as she spoke, literally groping for a word. "Gifted? Every day, he knows that if he was somewhere else, he'd be able to do something with the gifts God gave him. How could I do that to him?"

Book looked at her a long while, considering his response. Drifting along the valley, he could hear distant screams through the broken window. Not encouraging. He hoped Amber, at the far end of the room from the window, couldn't hear them. "Forgive me for saying so, but I think perhaps when you say things like that, you're talking about yourself."

"There they are." Mal pointed into the sky between Ebenezer and Marley's horizon. A bright green star was moving rapidly against the backgound. "Lets see...."

He moved to the astrogation controls, paused while he remembered how they worked. Wash usually handled this, too, but from the noises filtering up through the deck in the crew dorms, he'd convinced Zoe the end was indeed nigh. Finally, the memory fell into place, and he swung Serenity's telescope around to find the object. A few moments later, the distant, spiky shape of an Alliance cruiser stood out against the star-field.

Jayne returned from the kitchen, a mug in his hand. "What's that?"

"The good guys just arrived. We're all saved." He pointed to screen.

Jayne nodded. "Less'n they spot us. I don't think they're gonna check ID before shootin'."

"That's why we're just an oddly-shaped outcropping of r...whoa." When he had answered to 'Sargeant', Mal Reynolds had been a ground-pounder. A couple of times, most notably at Serenity Valley, he'd seen a cruiser drop in close for fire support. He had been horrified and impressed with the amount of hell that fell off of one. It had never occurred to him until now, as they watched the distant ship launch a salvo of missiles, that they might have been holding back

He looked at Jayne. Jayne was slack-jawed, staring at the screen, even at the visible effects of the volley faded. He checked himself. Also slack-jawed. He gathered himself a little. "Jayne?"

"Yeah, Mal?"

"You remember what I said about hot drinks?"

Jayne looked slightly befuddled, then glanced at the mug he held. "Oh! No, it's water. Say, how 'bout I go unplug that microwave?"

"That seems like an excellent idea," Mal said as Jayne hurried towards the kitchen.

Han watched as the missile volley struck the enemy formation. It amazed him that after more than five hundred years of development, the technology still occasionally failed. Of course, with the messiness of the formation, and screen of asteroids, some misses were to be expected.

They were now in gun range. The Reavers were trying their particle gun, but at this range, the stream was too diffuse. Impregnable's cannon would have some spread too, but their size and power made it less of a concern. The enemy ships still in orbit began to burn.

Amber was sobbing loudly. Book said nothing, and strained to hear if anything else was happening outside. The screaming was trailing off, but he couldn't tell if it was because the screamers no longer felt the need, or were just running out of the ability to scream. He hoped it was the former.

He wondered what to do if the Reavers found this burrow. Amber had her bottle of poison, and hopefully it was a quick one, but all he had was the somewhat dubious shield of faith. He rather doubted a mendicant like himself, off without a mission per se, would rate as a martyr. Unlikely, since the Reavers weren't making any sort of spiritual point when they butchered people-- were they? He'd have to suggest it as a study topic the next time he waved the Abbey, God willing.

Amber had her face in her hands. He'd pushed a button, without a doubt. By her feet, well-illuminated by the moon, sat her bottle. Book's smile relaxed, became more genuine. He took a step forward, and she didn't react. Another step, a pause, and then very casually he closed half the distance between them.

"Amber." She looked up, and was clearly surprised at how close he was to her. "I want to explain some things to you, and I need to be certain that you trust me. First, it's probably best if you pick up that bottle. I wouldn't want us to forget it here, and leave it for someone to stumble on.."

She wiped her arm under her nose, staring at him. Slowly, clearly expecting a trick, she reached for the bottle, picked it up, and held it close against her chest. He put his hands behind his back, and still smiling asked, "Now, if I had meant to, do you think I could have kicked that bottle to flinders before you noticed me coming over here?"

She nodded. "So, why do you think I didn't?"

She looked at the bottle quickly, as if to assure herself it were really there, then said, "Wouldn't solve anything."

"Right you are. At worst, I've saved you another trip to the wise woman. I'm hoping for a more long-term solution in any case. May I sit beside you?"

She nodded, and scooted over a bit. He lowered himself onto the step, and steepled his hands, elbows on his knees. "It's a requirement of those in my line of work to believe in life. I would be lying if I told you that I thought that killing your child were anything else than a sin. I might moderate that if there were evidence that he were somehow malformed... that isn't the case, is it?"

"No."

"All right. From a spiritual point of view, there is no justification for killing Jules, and no way to avoid... repercussions if you do so. Let nature take it's course. If he decides in his time to leave Ebenezer, by whatever means, then so be it."

Amber looked at him, an expression of amazement on her face. She sniffed, and said, "You still think bringing him into this world, the stinking go se planet, is right? The Reavers just prove it. Better if we all just give up and get out. I thought that's why you left the bottle be."

Book returned her look, wide-eyed. "But I...."

"Father, you're dead right on one thing-- a lot of what I been thinkin' about Jules is the same as I think about myself. But that don't change nothing. It makes it worse. Do you know why I was crying?" Book shook his head. "I was remembering how long it's been since I felt good about life."

There was another roar of engines from outside. Ships lifting. They both looked at the window, but the scene it offered remained darkly serene and uninformative.

"Maybe it's a sin to kill him. Maybe it is. Father, when I came to the chapel tonight, I was looking for some kind of sign. I was hoping I'd hear a voice in my head say 'Yes' or 'No'." She sighed heavily. "Silly. I know God don't work like that."

The sound of ships lifting was joined by the scream of others descending. Great ripping noises and ragged explosions followed, attenuated by distance.

"Father, I don't know if I'm going to drink this or not. I got about a month to figure it out. But whatever I do, Father, I've got to figure it out. I hope I get it right."

Book considered her, his head tilted slightly. Even in the darkness, he could see her eyes were still brimming. He considered his options. He could easily take the bottle from her; even with the age difference, he had size and experience working for him. That would settle things for tonight, and maybe as long as it took Serenity to return. He could ask her husband to help him keep and eye on her, if he broke the seal of the confessional. He could do either, and add shattered trust and possibly even a loss of faith to the list of this young woman's complaints....

"Is there anything else you wish to confess?" He had to raise his voice slightly over the growing sounds of mayhem outside. The far side of the valley was occasionally illuminated by flashes. Amber shook her head. "Very well. For the sin of gluttony... well, I already said that wasn't a sin, didn't I? As to thinking of killing, I have a special penance. You have in you hands there the capacity to take life.

"I want you to carry this as long as you carry that." He brought his right hand out of his pocket, and held out his bible. Amber reached for it, but didn't take it.

"Father... I never learned letters."

"That's all right, child," he said, holding it closer to her hand. "Think of it as a symbol. A way of giving life. Perhaps, if you choose as I hope, you can use it to help your son learn."

She finished the movement, taking the bible from him as if she thought it might burn her. She sat, looking at the book for several seconds. "That's all?"

"Go now and sin no more," he replied, smiling. Outside, a bright flash was followed by the loudest report yet. Moments later, the walls of the shelter shook as something massy dropped to the ground nearby.

Apart from Simon and River, entire ship's company was standing around the feed from Serenity's telescope, watching as it tracked the cruiser. That great ship had now moved between Ebenezer and Marley, and was visible mainly from its own lighting. Three green sparks appeared from behind the cruiser and fell towards the planet.

"What's that?" Wash said.

"Troop transports," Zoe replied. "They must be pretty serious about putting down the Reavers here. Could be a hundred purplebellies in each of those things." Other, smaller lights, swarmed around the cruiser, craft too small for the telescope's resolution.

Inara, standing a little apart from the rest, glanced up through the windows. The night side of Ebenezer was entirely toward them now, slightly grey in the back-scatter from the moon. She was playing with a poem which the view inspired, but the notion that it might be a memorial kept disturbing her as she tried to compose. If Book were gone, then really the only thing to hold her on Serenity any longer would be affection for Kaylee. At least, she thought, the only thing she'd allow near the surface.

She realized that she was thinking herself into a loss of emotional control. That had happened enough on this ship, and she was unwilling to have so many witnesses attend yet another outburst. Quietly, she made her way around the group at the astrogation console, and left the cockpit. No one noticed, and she hoped it was an omen.