Spartan's Quest - Chapter 18
Author owns no rights to Firefly, and writes only for his own amusement
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Time seemed to pass slowly on Nightside. In the three weeks since the others had departed, much had been accomplished. Jayne had provided housing for everyone, and Prim was working with those who desired to remain, even after the threat was eliminated. They had seen for themselves how secure this place was, and many wanted to keep their families as far away from the Alliance as possible.
Those with farms eagerly traded their holdings on other worlds or moons for
equivalent acreage on Nightside. One of Jayne's companies would assume ownership of the widespread farms and properties on those worlds, and sell them off a few at the time, to avoid raising any alarms. Nothing would be traceable.
Jayne had also had a new school erected on the grounds of his manor, so that the orphans, as well as the other children, could receive a good education while still being separated from the majority of the moon. It wasn't that Jayne didn't trust the people living on Nightside. Rather, it was the need to make sure that the children were in a stable environment, one that would allow them to put their treatment at the hands of the Alliance, Blue Sun, and Neethos, far behind them.
Mal and his crew remained as well, assisting with the work. Mal chafed at being on the ground so long, away from his ship and the rest of his crew, but he knew that what he was doing was important. And, he admitted, he had been thinking more and more about what Jayne had said to him that night, before the raid on Neethos' facility. If he were to pursue that course, one of politics and public service, then he had to start leaving his preferred isolationism behind him. This was a good place to build new habits.
One of those habits was assuming the role of father figure to Amanda Paine. The teenager had scarcely left his side, or Neera's, since their arrival. Mal had been concerned about that, at first. He didn't know anything about being a father. Amanda had suffered a great deal, and Mal wanted her to have the kind of life, and influence, that would help her recover from her ordeal.
He had often wondered, though, what it would be like to be a father, and have a family. There had been a time when he'd hoped that he and Inara might start a family of their own. He had always imagined they'd raise their children on Serenity, though. Now, as he looked around him at laughing, playing children, he realized that raising children aboard a ship would be the ultimate injustice. Children needed to be around other children. Needed that interaction that living in the black would deny them.
All of these things played on his mind even as he helped get the new school finished, helped families get settled, and watched the activities around him with a careful eye.
Neera had noticed the slow changes in him as well. She had remained silent, however, knowing that Mal needed to work through these things on his own. She would help him if he asked it of her, but would not intrude. She was confident that Mal would make the right choice, whatever it was.
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"What's up, Zoe?" Julio Givens asked, walking over to where she sat, resting, after working to help one of the families get settled into their new home.
"Just takin' a break," she smiled up at him. "You?"
"Same thing," he shrugged, offering her a bottle of water. She took it gratefully, nodding her thanks. Julio sat beside her, drinking his own water, in silence. Zoe glanced at him from the corner of her eye.
Julio was a good looking man, she admitted. And smart as a whip. She hadn't responded to his gentle hints as yet, but admitted to herself it was tempting. She had watched how Mal's relationship with Neera had gone for a while, curious as to how well that would work. She didn't know that being involved with someone who would likely still be young when she was old and gray was a good idea.
"Ever married, Julio?" Zoe asked suddenly, curious. He looked at her, startled.
"No," he shook his head slowly. "Never have been."
"Really?" Zoe's eyebrows rose at that.
"Really," he nodded. "Came close once, long time ago. Long time ago," he grinned at her, and she found herself returning it.
"What happened?" she asked. Julio took another drink from his bottle, then shrugged. A helpless gesture, full of pain.
"She died. Caught a sickness, back on earth. That was before. . .well, before, if you know what I mean. Nothin' I could do. We didn't have insurance, and even if we had, they likely couldn't have saved her. But it made me mad. Thinking that she might have lived, had we been able to get her some treatment."
"I was already into computers, back then. After Rosa died, I started messin' with the government's computers. Little things at first, like stealin' their money, or puttin' it in the wrong account. Gave a lot of it away, in a way they couldn't trace," he smiled, remembering those days.
"After a while, I started doin' real damage," he admitted. "Screwing things up good and proper for anyone I could reach. It wouldn't bring Rosa back, or even help me get over her loss, but I. . .I wasn't really thinkin' straight, I admit."
"Anyway, I got careless, and they got on to me. Started chasing after me. I dipped into their systems a time or two, erasing information they had gathered about me, and my way of doing things. They always rebuilt it, but it took time."
"I would have gotten caught, sooner or later, I guess. But one night, late, I got the urge for something to eat, and went into this little convenience store. Place where they sold beverages, fast food, and the like," he explained. "While I was in there, this guy walks in, pulls a gun, and demands money. The cashier gave him everything in the register, but it wasn't enough to suit him. I gave him my money, wasn't much," he admitted, "but it just made him madder that we didn't have much between us."
"So, he shot both of us," Julio's voice strangled a bit, as he remembered the look on the woman's face as she fell to the floor behind the counter. That woman had had four children, none of them grown. Working to support them.
"I figured I was dead," he told Zoe. "Then, someone was picking me up, and carrying me outside. I don't know how far he toted me, 'fore he laid me down on the ground. I could hear sirens wailin', and figured this was it. Of all the ways to get nabbed, this one had never entered my mind," he chuckled softly.
"Jayne?" Zoe asked, curious.
"Yep," Julio nodded. "He looked at me, said, 'you know you're dying, right?'. I guess I nodded, or something, I don't rightly remember. Then he looks at me, all funny. I had lost a lotta blood by then, and was a little off, you understand."
"He asks me, 'if you could live, and use your ability to help others, would you?'. I remember thinking 'that's what I been doin'. I can remember talkin' to him, but not just what I said. I know I told him I had been doing just that, and sure, I'd keep on doing it, till they caught me. Next thing I knew, I was wakin' up, days later, in his house."
"Been with him ever since," he grinned. "Ain't been a bad life, really. I've done a lotta things for Janos over the years. Always tryin' to help other folks, here and there. Can't always help, mind you," he looked at her pointedly. "For all his ability, Janos ain't clairvoyant. He can't see what's coming anymore than I can. So, sometimes, we don't get things done."
"But we try, when we can. Janos is gone a lot, wandering about, seeing what's what. Leaves a lotta time for the rest of us to see what we can get into on our own. Long's we don't leave no traces, he don't never say nothin'. He's not a bad sort."
"No, he ain't," Zoe nodded. "Was a time, 'fore I knew all about him, that I'd not said that. But, lookin' back, it seemed as if, even when he was arguing against us, he was tryin' to steer us away from trouble. And he always came through in the end, mind you. He never left us hangin', even when others might have. And felt justified in doin' it."
"He's like that," Julio nodded. "I feel sorry for him, sometimes," he sighed. Zoe looked at him incredulously.
"Sorry for him?" she demanded. "Why in the 'verse would you feel sorry for him? He's got everything anyone could ever want!"
"Including about three thousand years worth of memories I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy," Julio told her. "Well, maybe Brockman," he added thoughtfully. "He's been through more than any one person oughta have to endure. There's times, just ever once in a while, mind you, when I swear I think he'd welcome dyin'. Like it would give him some kinda rest. Y'know?"
Zoe didn't reply, still stunned at this revelation. Julio noted her silence, and grinned.
"Don't get me wrong, now," he chuckled. "He is right well to do, and got more luck than anyone I ever knew. But there's always been a sadness about him. Well," he added thoughtfully, "I can't say he's been so sad as all that since he met Lady River. She seems to have give him a reason to live again. He needed that. Been needin' it for a long time," He looked at Zoe suddenly, as if aware he'd spoken out of turn.
"Don't be tellin' no one all that, Zoe," he asked. "He'd not be wantin' people to know his business. And he'd chew my ear off for tellin' it."
"I doubt that," Zoe smiled. "He likes you. I can tell."
"He treats me well," Julio nodded. "But he ain't what you'd call the forgivin' sort."
"Worked that out for myself," Zoe murmured, nodding.
"Yeah, reckon you might've." He stood suddenly.
"Well, I need to get back to work, I guess. Thanks for the company, Zoe," he smiled, and walked away. Zoe watched him go, thinking.
Julio had opened up to her, something she suspected he didn't do very often. And she'd had a glimpse of Julio Givens, the man, as opposed to Julio Givens, the Brethren.
She decided she liked what she'd seen.
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Thom Fell sat cross legged on the sidewalk, weaving a seat into a chair that needed repairing. It was just a coincidence that the small store he'd taken to working for on occasion was right across the street from a place that Brockman's men were known to frequent.
He'd been watching that place for nearly two weeks now. So far, there'd been no sign of anyone who might have worked for Brockman. Garrison had been the one to sniff out information about Brockman and his hirelings, knowing as he did so that he was inviting attack. That left old, harmless looking Thom to do the surveillance. No one spared him a second glance, just an old man, making ends meet any way he could.
He was almost finished when the small com unit in his ear pinged. He reached up, as if scratching his ear, and activated it.
"Thom, so far as I can tell, none of Brockman's people are about," he heard Meadows' voice in his ear. "It's like they've all disappeared. I. . .I got a funny feeling we missed something, somewhere."
"Reckon what we can do," Thom murmured, looking around to make sure he wasn't overheard.
"Working on it," Meadows' voice assured him. "We're going to have to see if we can figure out when they left, and more important, where they went. Tonight, we'll venture into the bar, and see if we can convince anyone to tell us what we need to know."
"Sounds like a plan," Thom agreed. "I'll see you back at the ship in a little while." The connection broke, and Fell continued to work on the chair.
He never left a job undone.
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Elizabeth Winter and Jared Barstow were facing similar problems on Osiris. They had visited several people who had known Neethos, but none of them had heard of the man called Brockman, nor knew anyone matching his description. River's drawing was helpful in asking questions, but so far, there were no answers.
"We're not getting anywhere, Elizabeth," Barstow sighed in frustration. "It's like the whole organization has just. . .left."
"Maybe they have," she shrugged. "Had to be a rude shock, running into Janos like that. They may have gone underground, rethinking their strategy."
"I'd rather find them now, than wait for them to spring out on us later, when they're more prepared," Barstow pointed out.
"Me too," Winter agreed. "But in order to do that, we need to find them, or at least someone who might know where they are. Any ideas?"
"Only that we keep looking," he shrugged helplessly. "I think we've exhausted our leads here, though," he added.
"I agree," Winters nodded. "Let's contact the others, and see what they've been able to uncover. If nothing else, we'll head to another planet, and start over."
"This could take a long time," Barstow grumbled. Winter chuckled.
"Afraid you're missing out on a good case, Barrister?" she teased.
"I don't have long left in my present role," he admitted. "I'd like to end it on a positive note."
"Finding this heathen and killing him is a positive note," she pointed out.
"True," he smiled. "And it's not like I'm going to run out of time, is it?"
They walked back toward her ship, laughing.
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"Red Dog Saloon," Thom Fell murmured, looking at the sign over the door way. "Sounds like a place I knew in New Mexico, once." Garrison Meadows nodded, grinning.
"Think I heard of it," he replied. Meadows was dressed as he almost always was, in a plain white shirt, dark vest to match his trousers, and a long duster. Fell had changed from his normal buckskin type clothing to similar dress, though without the small bolo tie that Meadows wore. Neither man looked armed, but they were.
"Might as well wet our whistle, wouldn't you say?" Fell grinned, and the two walked into the bar.
Inside revealed the usual run of the mill bar room. A long bar across the back, several tables to one side, and a few recreation games, such as billiards, on the other. Several card games were going on.
"Think I'll find a game and sit in," Meadows said quietly, and Fell grinned again.
"You just can't leave them paste boards alone, can ya?" he jibed. He and Garrison had known each other for a long time, off and on. They had traversed the old West of North America's USA together for almost fifteen years during the late 1800's.
"Have to practice my trade," Meadows shrugged. "Good way to get information, anyway," he added.
"True that," Fell admitted. "I'll have a word with the barkeep." The two men separated, going their separate ways. Meadows selected the game with one empty chair, which, pleasantly, seemed to be the one with the most money on the table.
"Got room for another, gents?" he asked politely. Four men looked up at him. Two were probably sharks, the gambler decided at once. Sitting opposite of each other, they looked as if they were running cards to one another. A third was likely a gunhand, possibly from a ship in dock. The fourth had the look of a prosperous business man with time to kill, and a bit too much alcohol in his system.
"Sure, friend," one of the sharks smiled. "Take a chair. Be nice to get some new money in here. Ole Bret, here," he nodded to the man Meadows had pegged as his partner, "he done took most of the coin so far." Meadows smiled and sat down, placing his money on the table.
"What's the game?"
Across the room, Fell watched as Garrison inserted himself into a game, recognizing the look on his friend's face, and chuckling to himself.
Them two idjuts are in for a time, he thought with malicious glee. As the bartender walked by, Fell motioned for his attention.
"How 'bout a beer, friend," he smiled. "Cold as you can make'er."
"Sure thing," the bartender smiled. Taking a mug, he drew up a foaming mug and placed it before Fell. The old mountain man placed more than enough coin to cover the cost on the bar, and drank nearly half the mug in a single draught.
"Man, that sure hits the spot," he sighed. "Ain't nothin' like a cold mug on a hot day!"
"I hear ya," the barkeep agreed, filling the mug again.
"Much obliged," Fell nodded. "Things busy 'round these parts?" he asked casually, as if he didn't really care.
"'Bout fair, I'd say," the barkeep nodded, polishing a mug. "Stays fairly busy year 'round, though it picks up a good bit this time o' year. Seems people always want to visit in the summer time."
"I 'spect," Fell nodded, taking another pull on his beer. "Just driftin' myself, though it seems a good place for a man to. . .relax, so to speak," he grinned.
"That it is," the other man nodded.
"I ain't been around in some time," Fell mentioned casually. "Work on a little freighter, bouncin' around the 'verse. Place seems to o' grew some, since I was in last. Must be five, six year now."
"There's been a boom of sorts, here and there," the barkeep agreed. "Slowin' some now, it seems, but I think it'll keep on. Had a bit o' trouble with the criminal element, of late, but that seems to have righted itself."
"What sorta trouble?" Fell asked, still as if passing the time.
"Well," the bartender started, and Fell leaned forward, as if were intent on picking up the gossip, and nothing more.
At the table where Meadows had set in, things were picking up. Three small pots had gone to the business man, but then the fourth, a large one, had gone to 'Bret' in a showdown that had his Aces over Tens full house beating out the business man's straight. The loser, who's name was Gaines, Meadows had learned, was sweating profusely now, and becoming angry, if the gambler was any judge.
Meadows had about decided that the 'gun hand' was actually in with the sharks. The man had upped the pot three times, only to fold at the last minute. His raise had prompted Gaines to stake far more on his small straight than he might otherwise have done.
"You got the luck of a damned little one," Gaines murmured. It was Meadows' turn to deal, and he decided to help Gaines out a bit. He might be grateful, later on, and he might know something useful. Plus, it would tickle him to thwart the three con men. He dealt the cards slowly, almost clumsily, but without any apparent difficulty, other than a lack of experience. He had folded on three of the hands he'd sat in on, losing a good bit himself on the large pot.
As the men took up their cards, Meadows noted the three other men exchanging glances, and knew then that the gun hand was, indeed, a party to the scam. Good. He was prepared for that, this hand.
It seemed that 'Bret' was the ring leader, as the others seemed to take their cues from him where betting was concerned. Meadows hoped that Gaines poker face held, after the drubbing he'd taken in the last round. If it did, then 'Bret' was in for a rude shock.
"I'll take three," the gun hand, Myers said, after the initial round of betting. The others followed suit around the table, with 'Bret' taking one card, his other partner, 'Toby' taking two, and Gaines taking two. Meadows watched as Gaines picked up his cards, and almost smiled as the man's face revealed nothing. Seemed he was a pretty good player after all. Just unaware, apparently, that he was being taken.
"I'll raise two hundred," Myers said. "I'm gonna take you this time, Bret," he added. Bret laughed but said nothing. The betting went around, each man raising at least once. As it came back to Meadows, as the dealer, he upped the stakes considerably.
"I think I've got this one, Myer," he smiled. "It'll cost you to find out, though. I'll raise five hundred."
The men at the table seemed surprised by that, as Meadows had played conservatively in each of the previous hands. Sensing that he was good for a milking as well, Bret nodded. Each of his partners called, leaving it with Gaines. He puffed a bit, looking at his cards more than was needful. Finally, reluctantly, he slid his own money out to the middle of the table.
"I'm in," he declared, almost against his will. Meadows smiled.
"Time for showin' then, if we're all in," he grinned, and placed his cards on the table first. He had dealt himself a full house, Kings over Jacks. Myer, in feigned digust, threw his own straight on the table, muttering. Toby likewise threw his cards on the table, revealing two pair, Nines and Sevens. Bret smiled at Meadows.
"Sorry, friend, but I've got this one." Laying his cards down, he revealed a hand of four Queens. As he reached for the pot, Gaines cleared his throat.
"Hold you horses there, young fella," he said. "I don't think so." Gaines slowly laid his own hand on the table. Four Aces, all in a row. Bret looked stunned, and his friends were in shock. Meadows snorted in disgust.
"I can't win for losing," he shoved his own cards into the center. "I appreciate you lettin' me sit in, fellas, but my luck ain't workin' out today. Be glad to by the winner a beer, though," he said to Gaines. "And I'll spring for my fellow losers as well," he added, just to make things nice.
"I think I've had enough, too," Gaines nodded, gathering his winnings. If his math was right, he was actually about six hundred to the good, and that was his cue to stop. The three other men at the table didn't seem to agree.
"We had a good game goin'!" Toby complained. "Ain't no sense in stoppin' now!"
"I'd love to stay on, fellas," Gaines assured them. "But I gotta store to run, and I've been away too long as it is. You boys be around later on this week? I'd like to sit in again with you, if you are."
"I don't think I like this," Bret said suddenly, easing back from the table. "You sit here, pullin' us in, then your man shows up, sits in for a few hands, and you take us to the cleaners. Seems to me, we been cheated." A hush fell over the other patrons at that declaration, quiet settling over the bar.
Across the way, Fell saw what was happening, and let go with a mournful sigh.
"Well, it was good while it lasted," he told the barkeep. "Thanks for the comp'ny." Fell eased away from the bar, coming up behind Toby and Bret slightly, where Meadows could see him.
"Gentlemen," Meadows said softly. "I don't like to be accused of something like that. Ever. I know your loss was heavy, but so was my own. And I assure you, I've never seen this man before today, nor will I likely see him again. I suggest that you reconsider you claim, and leave this be."
"He talks awful fancy, don't he," Myers sneered. "We don't take kindly to professional like card sharps comin' in here, takin' advantage of us."
"No, indeed," Meadows smiled. "I imagine you don't. Because you three are so pathetic at the little game you're running, a three year old could have seen it. No offense," he added to Gaines, who growled at that.
"You was scammin' me?" he demanded angrily. Before he could say more, Myer rose swiftly from his chair, a gun in his hand. Before he could bring it to bear, however, Meadows trapped it in his own, and squeezed. Hard.
Everyone in the bar heard the bones in the gun man's hand breaking, and winced. Myers screamed aloud, his face contorted in agony.
"I dislike guns being aimed at me," Meadows said, his voice soft with menace. "I suggest you three find someone else to pick on."
Bret and Toby were not gun hands. That was why they had Myer. The two had picked him up when they arrived on the planet, and would have dumped him when they left. Neither of them wanted to face someone like Meadows in the open.
"Ain't no need for offense takin', now," Bret said placatingly. "I don't know what got into this fella's head, but we ain't of a mind to make no violence. Was just wantin' a good game o' cards to pass the time til our ship left."
"I'd say that time is now," Meadows growled. "And take your friend with you," he ordered. The three men, Myer still moaning in agony, eased their way to the door, and out, while Meadows watched them. Satisfied they were gone, he turned to Gaines.
"I'm right beholden to you, Meadows," Gaines offered his hand. "I didn't know they was playin' me. Just thought my luck was off. I ain't no regular player, just enjoy a good game, now and again."
"No problem," Meadows smiled. "You said you were a store owner?"
"Yes," Gaines nodded. "Got a little place just a few blocks from here. Mostly shipboard electronics. Computers and the like, too."
"Well, what if my friend and I escort you back there, in case our game companions decide to make trouble for you. Along the way, perhaps you can give us some information about how things work around here."
The three left together, heading for Gaines' store. The barkeep watched them go, shaking his head.
"See all manner o' things in here," he told the bar, polishing a mug.