Mal lifted the com to his mouth. "Hank, keep an eye out. You even think it looks like we might have guests, you take Serenity out of here. You can come back for us later."
"Guests?"
"Just don't leave the bridge."
"I won't."
"And get Frey to listen out. She might pick 'em up before our sensors do."
"On it, Mal. Any particular idea who they might be?"
"I don't think we want to get close enough to ask."
"Oh. Okay."
"Andrew, please, lie back," Simon was saying.
"You have to leave." He was pushing at the young man, trying to get it through to him. "It isn't safe here, Simon. I won't be responsible for … for what might happen."
"A little bit late for that, ain't it?" Mal asked, coming to the bed.
"What?" Andrew stared at him.
"I tested River and my DNA," Simon explained, holding the old man down with no effort. "Compared them, Andrew."
"Oh, God." He fell back onto the pillow. "I prayed you'd never … God."
Simon realised he was crying. "Andrew, please. What's going on? You told me, in your letter, that River and I came from the same donors. Now I'm not even sure she's my sister at all."
"Doc." Mal put his hand on the young doctor's arm. "Don't you think you'd better see to him medically before you get into this?"
He stared at the captain, then nodded. "Of course." He rummaged in his medical bag.
"I never wanted to have to tell you," Andrew wheezed, the breath rattling in his chest.
"Just lie still. I've got something that'll ease things. Make you more comfortable."
"But nothing that's going to make me live, right?"
Simon turned at a sound like pebbles on a tea tray, then realised the old man was laughing. He smiled tightly. "No. Nothing to make you live."
"Knew that was the case. I couldn't be a doctor as long as I have been and not been able to diagnose myself. Always knew having Romeo and Juliet as my favourite play would come back to bite me in the ass."
"What?"
"Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end." Andrew coughed, and Simon wiped away a little spittle. "Wish they'd done me the courtesy of a sword thrust. Be quicker."
"Not necessarily," Mal muttered.
"Andrew, what are you talking about? What poison?" Simon asked.
"They're cleaning house." He coughed again, and this time the mucus was pink tinged. "I got a gift, from someone I haven't seen in a long time. More fool me, I didn't think it might be … I got sick after. Just kept getting worse."
"What was it?"
"Chewing tobacco." He laughed the rattle again. "I know. Last time I saw you I said it'd kill me. Wish I hadn't been quite so prophetic."
"Are you sure it was -"
"Sure. I tested what was left. And me. Phanocylic acid."
"Tah muh duh."
"Doc?" Mal leaned forward. It had to be bad if the doc swore. "What's –"
"It is a poison. It targets the pulmonary system, destroys the lining of the lungs, then attacks …" His voice faded away. "How long, Andrew?"
"Two weeks." He waved a hand. "I know. I'm living on borrowed time anyway. I just wish you hadn't come here. If they find out …"
"I had to. I had to know what's going on."
"Oh, Simon. If I'd known you were likely to test your DNA, I'd have made sure I told you before."
"What happened, Andrew? You said in your letter that … I believed you when you said River and I weren't the children of … weren't Tams. Did you lie to me?"
"No, no." Andrew reached out, and Simon took his hand, feeling the old skin thin and fragile under his young, strong fingers. "You're not Tams. I promise you that. But … you're right. River is only your half sister."
"But you said they requested the same donors." He didn't need to elaborate on which they he was talking about.
"They did. They didn't know, Simon, I swear."
"Didn't know what?"
"What Blue Sun were doing."
Simon involuntarily tightened his grip until he saw the old man grimacing in pain. He let go. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be. I deserve it."
"How? How did you find out about this?"
"Because I was part of it."
If Simon had any colour left in his cheeks, it had gone now. "Part of what?"
"The experiment." Tears forced from Andrew's eyes to run down his temples into his sparse hair. "Believe me, I've cursed myself every day for what I did, but … I had no choice."
Simon took a deep breath. "What did you do, Andrew?"
"You've got to understand. The Government were looking for psychics for their own reasons, to make into soldiers, to win any war before it could start."
"To make them assassins."
Andrew nodded wretchedly. "They'd known for a long time that there were ways of … increasing abilities. Taking what was already there and shaping it into what they wanted."
"Torturing children."
"I didn't … not that. You have to believe me."
"Go on," Simon said, his tone flat.
"There was widespread testing, then offering places in an Academy to suitable children, those who showed an aptitude, where they could be tested further, pushed to see if they could become more, to see if … if they were what their masters wanted." He licked dry lips. "Those that were found to be suitable were … handed on."
Mal, standing at the back of the room, stirred uneasily, but neither of the other men took any notice of him.
"That's what happened with River," Simon said.
"No."
The young man's head jerked up. "Yes, it was! The Academy, the tests, the … the torture …" He stared at the old man, realisation in his eyes. "And you knew. When we visited before, you told me you didn't know, but you … you couldn't know this and not understand what they did to her."
"I didn't. Please, Simon, you have to believe me. Not then. But I've still got friends. I've been doing some poking around, asking questions, seeing whether what you said was true."
"They hurt her! Destroyed the River I loved!"
"Yes, that all happened. But I only knew the why." Andrew coughed, a sound that, to Mal's experienced ears, had the imminent ring of death to it.
Simon held up a cup of water to the old man's lips, allowing him to drink a little. "Careful," he said, wiping the excess from his chin.
"There's not much time, Simon," Andrew said, gripping his wrist. "It's happened in families all over the systems. People desperate for children, paying to have their wishes granted, only those that went to the Blue Sun facilities got more than they bargained for." He pulled the young man closer. "They were playing God, Simon. We were playing God. Combining eggs and sperm from those we knew were psychic, or just having shown brilliance in any field. Letting these people go home with what they thought they had chosen, when they were just part of an experiment." He let go and fell back onto the pillow. "They were watched, assessed, balanced. You were watched, Simon."
The young doctor sat back. Despite having realised what he was going to say, hearing Andrew speak the actual words was a shock. He took a deep breath. "And River?"
"They failed with you. At least, what they considered a failure."
"Failure."
"You didn't display any overt psychic skills. To them, that was a failure." He took a breath that rattled in his chest. "But when the Tams asked for another child, they saw the chance to try again. The same father, but a different mother. A dancer, so very beautiful …" Andrew swallowed. "This time they got it right. By breeding River –"
"She's not cattle!"
"I know, my boy. And I'm wrong to use that word, but it's how they looked on her. A product of their research. And as they watched her grow they were more and more pleased."
"Who watched? You?"
Andrew nodded sadly. "Some of the time. But there were others, and of course all the other ways they could …"
"Did they know? My … the Tams? That River wasn't from the same donors as me? Did they think they'd failed with me?"
"No. Oh, Simon, no, don't you ever think that. They were so proud of you. Doing so well, getting into medical school when you did, being so gifted –"
"Performing like some dog in a circus."
If Andrew was surprised at the bitterness in the young man's voice he didn't show it. "They loved you."
"Not enough to listen to me." Simon shook his head. "And if River hadn't wanted to go to that school? Hadn't chosen to take up their offer?"
The old man's eyes closed to hide the guilt. "She'd have gone missing. Stolen. Harvested like too many others."
"What did you have to do with this?" Simon asked, trying to stop from shouting.
"I … I selected the donors. You have to understand. When I told them about the Pax, they wouldn't let me resign. They gave me other work, other ways to be useful, until I was too old …"
"And the other children?"
"You got your sister out. I don't think anyone's ever done that."
"So they're still there."
"Simon, I think there's more to it than that. When they found what they thought was the perfect combination, they used it again."
"How many times?" Simon asked hoarsely, leaning over the bed.
"For as many eggs as they had. Some dozen or so."
"Dozen …" Simon couldn't help the image in his brain of a row of children like River, all sitting in those chairs, probes in their skulls …
"They're not," Andrew said, almost reading his mind. "Like River. As far as I can find out, most showed no sign of her level of skills, if any. I think … I think you're the key."
"Me?"
"They thought it was the female bloodline, but I think they're wrong. I think River would have been like this no matter who her natural mother was. That in this case it was the male line that carried the psychic gene." He grabbed Simon's arm, his grip surprisingly powerful. "I think they've realised this, and it's why they're still looking for you. There's no other reason for the warrants to be still active. Miranda's over, long done, and they can't possibly believe River can hurt them any more. It's you they want, Simon. And Bethany."
Mal pushed away from the wall. "Bethie?" he asked.
"If she's in any way gifted, they'll want to breed from her."
"Wuh de mah …" Simon breathed.
"You need to keep her safe. If they ever find out about her …" He coughed, letting go of Simon's arm to wipe at his lips and the blood that stained them, his form quaking with pain.
"Mal, get out for a while," Simon ordered. "I need to help him."
"I'll only be outside."
"Go."
---
Mal was dozing in one of the chairs in the living room, but was instantly awake when Simon walked slowly through the door.
"Doc?" he asked.
"He's gone. Just now." He held out a memory tab. "He gave me this, just before ... It's his list of contact names, Cortex addresses … he said … he said it might come in useful one day."
"He cared about you, Simon."
"I know."
Mal narrowed his eyes a little. "What you said in there, before, about they destroyed the River you loved. Is that how you feel?"
Simon sat down on one of the hard chairs. "Mal, I was angry."
"Maybe. But it had the ring of truth about it."
The young doctor wiped his hands over his face, trying to press away the tiredness. "I suppose it did," he admitted.
"You want to talk about it?"
"No. But I gather you do."
"Simon, she's your sister. No matter what any little gizmo says. But it kinda sounds like you did all this, came here to Corvus, more for you than her."
"Perhaps I did. And yes, you're right. I did feel that." He stood up and walked to the window, looking out into the grey dawn. "When I got her out of that place, put her into cryo, I truly believed she'd be the River I remembered when she woke up. Then she woke up."
"It wasn't her fault."
"I'm not saying, in any way, shape or form that it was, captain." His voice had hardened, and using Mal's title only put more venom behind it.
"If you were I wouldn't've taken you on board."
Simon collapsed a little, putting his head back and closing his eyes. "She wasn't the same. Not just the psychotic episodes, the schizophrenia, but she wasn't the same at all. The way she used to love to dance, to move with music … even that was tainted, as if it came from a place of darkness, not light. Having fun with Kaylee just led to a bad place, and … and I couldn't help her."
"Did you stop loving her?"
"I don't know."
Mal was a little shocked, if not surprised that Simon would admit to this. "You saved her."
Simon sighed heavily, a sound that seemed to be dredged up from his very soul. "There were times I almost wish I hadn't. That she would have been better off … better off dead."
"You're human. I don't think you could be and not feel like that."
"Mal, you don't understand. If Andrew was right, if it is through me … then I'm to blame."
"How'd you work that one out?"
"Because it was me they wanted really, all along. Not her. They took her because they didn't understand."
"Simon, I think there's two things working here. They wanted River so they could make her into something else. They want you so they can make more. Two separate things, doctor. And you ain't to blame for either."
"I can't –"
"Yes, you can. And you know we'll be there for you. We'll do what we've always done. We deal with things as they turn up. And we'll deal with this."
The door opened and Eli Harris walked in.
"How's Andrew?" he asked, then realised what the answer was from the look on Simon's face. "When?"
"A few minutes ago."
Harris sighed heavily. "The town's gonna miss him."
"So will I."
The com link on the table buzzed. Mal picked it up, thumbing the switch. "Yeah?"
Hank's voice filled the room. "Mal, you need to hide. Now."
"What? Why?"
"That company you were talking about? I think they're coming."
