River wakes to a flurry of activity. The boat is buzzing, as if Serenity herself is humming with nervous anticipation. It isn't unpleasant, she decides. She flicks her covers away and gets up on her feet. Slides the door open to peek outside. No one there. She steps over the threshold, her bare feet landing softly on the floor, making no sound. She can feel everything through her soles; the mechanic hum of Serenity's engine, the distant minds and emotions of the people onboard, a dusty wind rushing by outside the hull. Not the black anymore. Her mind reaches further, senses the hundreds of minds below. Sitting, standing, waiting. Crammed together in stationary movement. Silver snake dashing across a dusty world.
River draws within the shell of Serenity again, inside her own body. River's shell. She moves through the ship like a shadow, a wisp of air unseen, unheard. The center of anticipation draws her towards the cargo bay. She takes the upper way, behind the infirmary – don't look inside – and up to the door of the kitchen. Halts and slips back at the sight and sense of the two inside. The flower is gracefully preparing her nectar while the quiz tangles in his words when intent and meaning clash to confusion. She ponders their conversation as she steps onto the suspended walkways in the cargo bay. Help without helping? The idea of prayer puzzles her. Prayer – a devout petition to an object of worship. Cries to an invisible force, appeals to an unsubstantiated idea of divinity. What's the point of it?
The metal grates underfoot cut into her sensitive feet. It hurts, but she hardly feels it. Likes it even. It reminds her of the boundaries of herself, her shell, her body. Brings her back from the confusing riddles, twists and turns of her mind. She finds a shaded spot, hidden up high, to observe from and gazes down into the big room. The belly of the beast. No, not beast – bird, and boat. Can Serenity be both bird and boat? Bird flies, boat floats, sails…row, row, row your boat…But Serenity is a firefly. A bug! A flying, floating, buzzing bug of peace. She giggles to herself. As complicated as it is, labeling can be a fun game.
Down from the hold come the voice of the gunman-ape – Jayne. Simon has told her she has to use people's names, but she finds them confusing. Non-adequate labels. Incongruent as descriptions. Lacking in meaning and content to describe a person sufficiently.
Jayne is huffing displeasure at Simon. Tells him to go look after his moon-brained sister. The reference passes River by as she considers the ruff-looking man. He's hostile, a constantly grumbling predator, but she can see the beating heart inside. She's unsure what to make of him – friend or foe? Dangerous or not? Sunbeam knows what to think. She likes both the ape-man and the doctor. Tries to smooth the spiky surfaces they turn against each other, wants so bad for Jayne to accept the man that makes her heart go tippety-tap ever since she laid eyes on him at the Eavesdown Docks on Persephone.
Jayne's comment drives Simon out of the cargo room, no doubt to do as he said and look after his sister. River can sense his worry and hurt, but she remains on her perched outlook. It doesn't cross her mind that she shouldn't be there, that her brother will be worried when he finds her bed empty. The preparations are coming to fruition and she is intrigued by the crime about to be committed. Crime – an unlawful act. Crime, criminal, felon, crook …are the crew of Serenity criminals? The thought upsets her, even though she can't quite figure out why.
She looks down on the sunbeam and knows she is part of it. Part of the crew, part of why River doesn't want to think of them as criminals. The ape-man fits the description better. His eyes have ill will in them, but what to do with that beating heart inside? There's potential for goodness there, warm thoughts of his mother and a sense of protection towards the young mechanic in front of him, muddled and hidden by greed and a penchant for firearms and violence. Greed is what overtakes him now.
"We could all be rich if we handed her back," he says, causing sunbeam to pause.
"You're not even thinking that."
Yes, he is, River thinks even though Jayne refutes the accusation.
"Mal is," he claims.
Excuses. River listens despite not believing him, commits the ape-man's words to memory. There's tactical advantage in knowing your enemy. The instruction wafts through her head on a moment of clarity, focusing her mind as she listens.
"He ain't stupid. Why would he bring on trouble like those two if there weren't no profit in it? Captain's got a move he ain't made yet, you'll see."
Kaylee fastens the winch and rope to Jayne's harness and the big hatch in the floor cracks open to admit the dust and winds from outside. From her high position River sees straight out, glimpsing the rocky ground beside the glittering silver of the train cars.
"Time for some thrilling heroics," Jayne says with a grin.
The adrenaline pumping in the Jayne's veins carries River with him when he lowers himself out of Serenity. She worries in tune with the twinge in Kaylee as she waits above with a hard grip on the controls for the winch. She stretches further out and down again to find the contradiction and the amazon, the steely concentration of a job etching their minds in crystalline clarity. All is going according to plan – and then there is an explosion of pain.
The bullet ripping through Jayne's leg sends a reverberating wave of emotion through River's scull. She gasps for air and has to hang on hard to the railing to not let the chock sweep her of the catwalk. Her sight and mind blurs when anger and fight erupts on the train. She can't hold on to the captain, has no real control of the ability she possesses, looses him and Zoe in the commotion they cause.
Distance to the turmoil helps her draw back and she realizes the leaf has pulled them away from the train. The adrenaline is everywhere now, thrashing into the very fabric of the boat and pumping through Serenity's veins. She feels what her crew feels, and River feels what Serenity feels.
Simon runs to Jayne's aid, forgetting their differences in the face of a medical emergency. He doesn't like the man, but that doesn't mean he will let him bleed to death. He took an oath, an oath that becomes his mantra in times like these. The mumble of the words in his mind draws River to him, soothing her as well as him.
I solemnly pledge to consecrate my life to the service of humanity; I will practice my profession with conscience and dignity; the health of my patient will be my first consideration; I will not permit considerations of my patient's identity to intervene between my duty and my patient; I will maintain the utmost respect for human life; I make these promises solemnly, freely and upon my honor. I solemnly pledge…
River pads on silent feet into the infirmary and crawls up on the second bed. Simon's eyes never divert from the ape-man on the main table. Sunbeam is also there, and the riddle stands by the door. After they land the leaf – Wash – floats in too. His argument with Jayne actually draws Simon's attention for a moment, but only a moment. He has to get the dressing on Jayne's wound finished before the impatient ape-man rushes off.
"Why you got us parked here?" Jayne asks the leaf. "This ain't the go tsao de rendezvous spot."
"It is now," Wash states resolutely, not backing down in the face of the furious ape-man.
"Niska's people are waitin', they ain't partial to waitin'." River senses a hint of fear in Jayne. Self-preservation is what drives him now, overshadowing the greed. Wash has other priorities.
"Let 'em read a magazine. We don't make the sale until Mal and Zoe are back on the boat."
"These are stone killers, little man. They ain't cuddly like me."
"I'm not flying anywhere without my wife."
The standoff is making Kaylee nervous, she tries to smooth over with the words she's been telling herself.
"She'll be okay. She's with the Captain."
Jayne takes it wrong, thinks she's supporting him.
"There, you see? Everybody wins."
He decides he has been mediced enough and moves to stand up, pulls his leg away from Simon's caring hands. He puts the wounded leg down and screams in pain. Only the riddle makes no motion to aid him – the riddle and River. With a gruff the ape-man sits back down.
"Doc, I need a pop to quiet this pain some," he more orders than asks, emphasizing with a swat on Simon's arm. With a sigh Simon goes to fetch some medication from his bag. River follows his hands with her eyes. Sees him hesitate, and then choose a bottle. A worry, familiar to River by now, forms words from his lips.
"All right, but what about the authorities? I mean, we're sitting here with stolen Alliance goods. Won't they be looking for us?"
Stolen Alliance goods…River is stolen. Simon stole her, from the Academy, from the Alliance. Something approaches her mind, stalking nearer from the corner of the eye. She knows what it is, recognizes their presence. They are the shadow you never see until it is too late. River sees them, can sense them, knows they're coming.
"Won't stop," she says. "Won't ever stop. They'll just keep coming until they get back what you took."
She lifts her hands, the tint of memories shading them in sickening hues. Words snake their way out her mouth, never consulting her mind for permission. A rhyme, a silly verse, the only name she has to describe the ones coming for her.
"Two by two, hands of blue. Two by two, hands of blue."
The words unsettle Jayne. He yells at her, "How's about you shut that crazy mouth? Is that a fun game?" She glares at him, but she is really somewhat grateful. His loud voice rips her away from the fear in her heart. And also, it is a fun game – scaring Jayne.
Jayne goes on; tries to muscle his way by claiming he's in charge, by waving threats of what Niska will do if they're late. Unexpectedly the riddle speaks. The name of their employer has sparked recognition in him, but the fear the ape-man feels is nowhere to be seen. He speaks out of concern for the others.
"Is this Adelai Niska you're talking about?"
Simon picks that moment to inject Jayne with his medicine. River smiles inwardly.
"Now how would a Shepherd know a name like that?" Jayne asks, but Book doesn't pay the question any mind. He has his reasons – for a lot of things – but none that he's about to share with the crew of Serenity and few that have anything to do with being a Shepherd. Instead he proceeds to speak his piece.
"As I've heard it – he made a deal with the Captain. If the Captain's not there to finish it, if Niska finds out he's being held and may speak as to who hired him – I think we're better off being a little late."
The two lock eyes for a drawn out minute. Book is calm but his gaze holds a severity that says that no matter how unlikely, he knows what he's talking about. It unsettles Jayne to the point where he finally agrees to wait – for a while.
Serenity and her crew wait. Jayne rests on the infirmary table. River watches him, unflinchingly. She knows he doesn't like it, but she doesn't care. Yes, she does. She smiles and continues her little game of scare-a-Jayne. The leaf returns to his bridge to monitor the sensors for incoming ships searching to find them. Kaylee keeps him company by the consoles.
Suddenly the ape-man pushes himself off the table. He winces when he puts weight on his wounded leg, but soon he finds a limping kind of walk that works. Simon tells River to stay put before he hurries after. She does as he says, in body if not in spirit. The boat is too small for her mind not to see what's happening.
The chase passes the flower in the kitchen, where the riddle has ended up as well. They watch wondering as the ape-man lives up to River's nickname and hobbles through. They see Simon jogging to keep up, but not River who floats effortlessly before them to the bridge. River hears Simon tell the ape-man to sit down. He really should listen to him. He is a doctor.
Jayne doesn't listen, just insists they fire up and take off. He's sick of waiting. Simon is too. River giggles expectantly. The ape-man tries the 'captain would'-card, with the same kind of reply from Kaylee as last time. Then he tries to assert his own authority instead.
"You know what the chain of command is?" he says to the leaf, his voice laced with threat. "It's the chain I go get and beat you with until you understand who's in ruttin' command here. Now we're finishing this deal, and then maybe – maybe we'll come back for those morons who got themselves caught. You can't change that…by getting all...bendy."
The last part comes as a surprise to Wash, out of context and inexplicable. River saw it coming, but then again she sees the mind of the man, has watched it dull and cloud. He didn't even see it but she did. Saw him blur around the edges, slowly at first but picking up speed and finally invading his visual cortex. Make him see twinkly lights and angels, before it swoops him over and robs him of consciousness. The rest of the crew stares at the strong gunman crashing into the grate floor, then Wash voices their thoughts.
"Did he just go crazy and fall asleep?"
"I told him to sit down," Simon responds. Down in the infirmary River giggles again. Bratty, bratty Simon. Snark with barely a hint of shame. She knows he'll feel just a bit bad about it later because of his oath, but he had good reasons.
"I just didn't feel comfortable with him in charge. I hope... hope that's all right."
The looks on the other's faces, and the wave of relief washing over River, say it is more than alright. None of them have a problem with the change of command.
"So...How do we get the others?" Book asks the question to get them back on the track they all really want to go.
"Jayne was right about them not making contact. Chances are, they got pinched getting off that train." River senses it pains Wash to admit the ape-man had a point. He childishly makes up for it by using his prone body as a footrest.
"We can't just waltz in and pull them out," sunbeam says, her light momentarily dimmed, but River watches as the words leap to the riddle's head with an idea. The image of the flower appears in his mind, with all his personal associations to her occupation.
"Someone respectable enough might be able to," he says.4e
Inara catches on quickly, as does the rest of the crew. It's risky, but she is the one with the best chance of getting away with it. She goes alone in her shuttle, while they wait, nervously counting the minutes and each running through their understanding of the plan. River jumps from one mind to the other, their anxiety making her restless.
Maybe now she is walking into the room, Kaylee thinks and pictures Inara's glamorous gown billowing as she strides confidently. Her thoughts drift, as so often, to how it would feel to wear one of those dresses. River follows her, sunbeam's memory of touching the silk awakening a vague recollection of her own. Remembers dancing at her parents' parties, pretty dresses flowing 'round her fast moving feet.
The key of the plan is the flower's acting, but that particular point doesn't worry the riddle. He worries of the contradiction and the amazon following her lead. If they are off by a beat and the authorities catch on…his face is blankly warm in contrast to the hard set stone of his mind. River decides she's named him well, she sees him through but cannot understand. He has knowledge that no Shepherd should, but the goodness of his heart is what governs him in the name of a Lord no one can see.
To busy their hands, if not their minds, Kaylee and Simon attempt to move Jayne to the infirmary. It doesn't go well and when the shuttle docks back onto Serenity they've only managed to drag him halfway down the stairs in the cargo hold. The returnees see him and pass him by – River even senses amusement in the captain's heart at the sight.
She smiles and relaxes in the relief of the crew, but only for a moment. Worry is already tainting Serenity's air again. And then there's fear and anger and pain. The minds of the crew clash with the cold malevolence of hostile strangers. River hides. She was on her way out of the infirmary to watch the reunion, but now she runs to her room and crawls up in the furthest corner, shutting her eyes and ears but still hearing the battle sounds ripping through the boat.
Stop, stop, please stop, please, stop. Her prayers are answered by a single final shot. The ape-man, still groggily slouched against the wire railing of the stairs, saves the captain by kneecapping the evil bird. Still reeling from the violence River doesn't notice the captain and Zoe leaving the boat again. She is lost to the mess in her mind, trying to resurface from the storming sea of emotions and memories and chopped up thoughts and snippets of knowledge a girl shouldn't have. It only touches the fringes of her awareness when the captain sends the bird through the engine, sending ripples of further confusion into the whirlpool. Mal – bad – perhaps he is. But his core is righteous in his own way. She cannot make sense of it and conscious thought is taken over by swirling memories and fear. Somewhere out above in the black a shadow moves again. She feels it, sees it, recognizes it.
"Two by two, hands of blue. Two by two, hands of blue..."
The rhyme echoes in her mind. It forces its way over her lips to express the horror clawing at every labyrinth twist and turn of her fractured mind. She knows they're coming, even after the burst of Serenity's engines has left them far behind, and her fear is for everything she holds dear. For herself and for her brother, for the blissfully unsuspecting crew of Serenity. The hidden memories that she can't pin down knows what will happen to them, and her, if the hands of blue ever reel them in.
The End