Simon looked like a corpse when he answered Mal's call. Mal doubted it was only because of the late hour on Regina. The boy had at least one foot in the grave. Behind him, Mal felt Zoe move slightly. She saw it too, and she didn't like what she was seeing.
Surprised to see them both, the doctor blinked on the screen.
"Mal? Is something wrong? Is anyone hurt?"
His eyes darted around the room as if he expected Alliance soldiers to appear around every dark corner or someone to show him an amputated leg.
"Relax, doc," Mal said, knowing Simon wouldn't. "There ain't nothing wrong either on your side or yours. We just have a job for you."
Simon frowned, but he looked ready to listen. Behind him, the wall was still empty of all decorations. He had done nothing to make the place his. Another bad sign, on a long list.
"I thought I had a job, here, on Regina."
"You do, but we've got clients lookin' for a doctor, and you're the only one we know that might be willing to get his ass on a place like Fiddler's Green. Ring a bell?"
"No surprise here. It's in the Rim, like Regina, just a small moon aroud Elphame, not far from where you are. Place's forgotten by everyone except the unlucky folks livin' there. Officially, the terraforming was a success."
"And unofficially?"
"Never been there, but you seen a place on the Rim, you saw them all. Thing is, Fiddler's Green nice for growing some plants, but not any plants, you get it?"
"Drugs."
"Something like that. Hallucinogenic plants, real popular with the Core's fancy folks. People who own the moon don't give a damn about the locals' health, as long as they cultivate it. When people ask for a doctor, they say it's too expensive. Don't even live there, in the mud, but on their proper houses, on their propers planets."
Simon winced, but did not protest Mal's rant. His tale didn't even surprise the doctor. So young and already so cynical. Mal would have cried if he hadn't seen the same face in his mirror every morning. Better to be cynical and not get hurt by the world. Mal wished he had shielded himself sooner. He'd bet that Simon regretted he didn't do it sooner.
"Are you saying there are sick people?"
"What else? Not sure how many, but yes, they are. People on Fiddler's Green, they're willin' to pay for a doctor. They've don't got enough for a doc' to stay, but enough for one to come and take a look. They probably put all their savings into it, or nearly. Interested?"
"People here could need me," Simon protested without conviction. "You told me to be careful. To not make myself a suspect."
"A teacher isn't a slave. They can leave for family reasons. It's not like you're their doctor. People don't wan't their doctor to leave, but they don't give a damn if their children got a few days without school."
He expected Simon to give him a dark look, but not that dull one. Zoe clicked her tongue and leaned forward to make sure Simon would see her on his screen.
"They didn't give us much info, but it doesn't look good for the inhabitants. We don't know if it's an epidemic of some kind. They were not very talkative, but they seem to have several people sick. They'd probably need the assistance, doc, and there aren't many people who'd be willing to go to the Rim, especially for such a small paycheck. Would you?"
Call to pride or courage did nothing for Simon, but Mal could see the same thing that happened when they took him to Zoe happening again. The man wanted nothing but to be left to die in peace, but his professionalism couldn't help but take over when the doctor was needed.
"Symptoms?"
"No idea," Mal said. "These people are not conversationalists. We'd have to go there to check, and that would be a waste of time and fuel. If you're available, we can be in Regina's orbit in about twenty hours. Want to get in?"
Mal read the guilt in Simon's eyes as he looked toward his bags on a side of the room.
"I have so few things left in my bag… I am not sure what help I can provide."
"Most of these people haven't seen a doctor since they set foot on Fiddler's Green. I doubt they'll hold it against you for not having all the equipment they need. If they're willing to pool their savings for a few consultations, they need whatever help you can bring."
"Then yes," Simon relented after a minute of reflexion. "I'll be ready when you get to Regina, and I'll make some arrangements to cover for my absence."
He reached for his screen and disappeared. Mal turned back to Zoe.
"So, what do you think?"
She frowned.
"Not sure what you want me to say, sir. I've seen men like him before. You too. Either he can pull through, or he'll kill himself before long."
She didn't bother to mention that Mal had been like Simon a few years back. Zoe herself hadn't reached that point, but she had been close, in the middle of the war. She pull herself from that, like she did with everything. Mal had been this close to shooting himself in the head for months after they left the hell of Serenity Valley. Zoe had watched him night and day to make sure he wouldn't, but even without her, Mal was pretty sure he would still be there, if only because he refused to give the Alliance that satisfaction. But he couldn't say in what state he would be if he hadn't found Serenity. Others hadn't had that chance. By now, they were dead or slowly killing themselves with drugs or alcohol, sometimes both. Simon wasn't far from that stage. Other people wouldn't understand. They'd need to live through what the three of them did. They had something to live for before they lost everything that matter. The boy was letting himself die and probably didn't even realize it. Mal didn't like that, perhaps because it hit too close to home. He felt, not responsibility, but something toward the boy. He'd hate to learn he killed himself one day.
"I shouldn't have sent him to Regina."
"The place doesn't seem to do him any favors, for sure, but I would have done the same. He needed a fresh start."
"Not everyone's cut for that. At least the boy's still got something inside him. I think he'll handle the problems on Fiddler's Green just right."
"We'll see."
"Ain't it right. And who knows? Maybe being useful and doing what he's good at will help."
Zoe responded with a grunt and a strange look Mal wasn't sure he understood.
"You like him."
"And if I do?"
Mal immediately got on the defensive. He shouldn't have. He didn't even like the man. It was just awful to see the light slowly dying in someone's eyes. No one liked meeting people who looked like they were waiting to die.
"Nothing, sir. You just don't like that many people."
She got up to warn the rest of the crew and passengers of their new destination, ignoring Mal's angry glare. Wash would be here to relieve him soon, so Mal took advantage of this brief respite to prepare for the trip. They weren't too far from Regina, and from there it would be a short trip to Fiddler's Green. With any luck, whatever was happening there wasn't too serious and they would soon be off looking for more profitable work. Simon could go back to slowly dying in his hole. Or, if they were lucky, being able to play the doctor for a while would be just what the man needed to wake up.
Zao gao. Why did Mal get so interested in the young man? He shouldn't have taken this job. It didn't pay that well, and could only mean trouble, but Mal wanted to help. It was stupid. Yes, Simon was just like he had been after Serenity Valley, but if they had to stop and help every lost person in the 'Verse, they would do nothing else. Too many people like them in the Rim. Mal should never have become attached to Simon to the point of calling him so often. He couldn't put all the blame on his boredom during the long watchs on Serenity's bridge, or on, his insomnias. But it was over. After that job, the kid would have to figure out on his own how to get out of his depression all by himself. If he succeeded, so much the better. Mal liked having a doctor willing to be paid niu shi in his contacts. Otherwise, they would still be flying.
Mal's good resolutions held until the moment Simon entered Serenity's cargo hold. He looked even worse in person. Behind Mal, Kaylee let out a gasp. She showed a strong dislike toward Simon since he refused to treat Zoe, but now her eyes were full of compassion and sadness. Less generous than her, Jayne snickered.
"Sure of yourself, Mal? They'll think we bring 'em one more sick person on Fiddler's Green!"
Couldn't say he was wrong. Usually, people looked worse on screen, not better. On a screen, Mal couldn't see how much weight the doctor had lost. One blow from Jayne and the kid would collapse. His clothes were no better. Mal didn't keep an eye on the Core's fashion sense, but Simon's tailor-made suit had seen better days. He was floating in his them. Mal was doubting his idea more and more.
Suddenly conscious of being observed, Simon looked up and politely smiled at them. The smile never reaches his eyes.
"Welcome aboard," Mal greeted him. "You know everyone and everything, so put your stuff in your cabin. We'll fly off when the door's closed."
"Understood. It will not take long for me to settle in."
"I'll help!" Kaylee offered.
She ran down the steps. Simon looked at her, suddenly lost. Last time, Kaylee had been so angry she refused to talk to him, and now her wanting to help was too much for him. Simon seemed to deal better with anger than compassion, but Kaylee's kind heart had gotten the better of her resentment. How not to? Simon looked like a run-over dog.
Not everyone reacted like Kaylee. Jayne sneered and turned away. He wouldn't recognize compassion if it kicked him in the nuts. Mal let him do and stayed to watch Kaylee picking up the larger of the doctor's two bags, ignoring his embarrassed protests. She must have doubted his ability to carry it. Mal was willing to bet it was his medical bag. The tiny one he was carrying slung over his shoulder probably contained the rest of his belongings.
Realizing he had more important things to do, Mal almost bumped into the shepherd. He hadn't realized Book was watching too.
"Did you know that people who work in the medical field have some of the highest suicide rates?"
Malt felt a shiver run down his spine.
"Can't say I did."
"There's been studies. Some wonder if it's the job's pressure or the closeness with death. Others think what makes the difference is that these people have easier access to medication and know exactly what doses to take to ensure a quick death."
"If you say so. What's your point?"
Book's annoyance was making quite clear he didn't believe in his act.
"You'd better not send this young man to an early grave. Be careful with him. He's worth more than you think."
"Don't worry. I know exactly how much a doctor is worth in the Rim."
"That's not what I was saying and you know it. Be careful."
Mal watched him walk away and frowned. He didn't like when the preacher interfered with the crew's business, even if Simon wasn't part of it. That was Mal's job, and Mal's job alone.
Anger growing inside him, Mal went to the bridge.
"We're leaving."
Wash raised an eyebrow at him, sensing his anger, but Mal ignored him. He had better things to do if he didn't want to think too much of Simon and the job. That could be difficult.
It had seemed such a good idea at the time. They were nearby, Simon and Regina weren't too far. The pay wasn't much, but they'd spend so little money on fuel to get in and out that it wasn't a problem. But maybe it was too risky. He should have pestered the mayor more when they talked on the Cortex. When Mal asked how many sick people there were, the man had glossed over the subject too quickly for his taste. Ten to twenty people could mean anything and everything. Terraforming planets were often plagued by various kinds of flu. Childhood illnesses were rampant, too. Or it could be something worse.
He shouldn't have taken the job.
When Mal joined the others for dinner, he found the others more preoccupied with Simon than a hypothetical contagious disease at their destination.
"He looks so sad," Kaylee sighed, "and so pale. We have to feed him more while he's with us."
"I thought we were supposed to hate him," Inara laughed. "Isn't that what you were saying yesterday, mei-mei?"
"That was before she discovered she found herself attracted by pathetic wimps," Jayne sneered.
Behind him, Wash whispered loudly to Zoe that the mercenary was jealous, and pretended to hide from Jayne's angry look.
"And you, preacher," Kaylee insisted, "don't you think he seems very nice? That we misjudged him?"
"I think we did, Kaylee. But I'm afraid he didn't exactly give you the opportunity to change your opinion by systematically isolating himself. The wrongs are shared."
"So we have to make him feel at home now."
As if a few words of affection would be enough to cure a depression like Simon's. Usually, Mal found Kaylee's optimism charming, but not this time.
"Sure, after seeing your smile for a few hours, he'll forget about opening his wrist or hanging himself."
Kaylee's smile froze into a grimace. Everyone, even Jayne, glared at him. You knew you fucked up when Jayne throught you went too far. Well, too late to wish he had said nothing. Mal hated doing this to Kaylee. It was the preacher's fault, with his big declarations about suicide. Inara glared at Mal before putting a reassuring arm around Kaylee's shoulders.
"I am sure you'll do your best to help him. And who knows, maybe you'll get him to talk. He must have an interesting story to tell, and it could help him."
"The handsome young doctor from the Core lost on the Rim," Wash said in the most dramatic tone. "Oh yes, I wonder what his story is! Do you think he's from Valentine or Sihnon?"
Kaylee's sadness disappeared instantly, her eyes shining with curiosity.
"I bet a chore on Londinium," Jayne said.
"But I was going to say that!" Kaylee put. "Liann Jiun, then."
"Osiris," Inara said. "I recognize the accent."
Wash and Jayne grumbled for the sake of it it, saying it was unfair to her to take part because a Companion from the Core knew that world better than any of them. Inara just smiled.
"I bet he left because someone found him in the wrong bed," Jayne laughed.
"A pretty lady?" Kaylee asked
"Not a lady's, if you know what I mean."
Kaylee frowned and turned to Inara.
"You think he's sly?"
"I've barely met him. Certainly not long enough to form my opinion, and if I did, I would keep my opinion to myself. It would be his story to tell."
The subtle reprimand went far over Kaylee and the others' heads. Their mechanic clapped her hands.
"Maybe he fought a duel over a lady and had to flee to save her reputation."
"Maybe he made a mistake and killed a big shot's daughter on the operating table and he fled rather than lose his life," Wash chimed in. "Zoe, any ideas?"
Zoe didn't answer. She looked over his head. Mal followed her gaze to discover Simon, who stood in the doorway, livid. Mal jumped to his feet. Too late, the damage was done. Simon was already turning on his heel to rush down the stairs. A heavy silence fell over the room. Everyone exchanged apologetic looks, except for Jayne, who loudly poured himself another drink. Book started to get up, but Mal stopped him with a gesture.
"I'll take care of it."
He grabbed a piece of bread and a plate that he filled with whatever was lying around. It was his ship and he should have stopped the others. He hadn't because he was an idiot and because he was curious to hear their theories. Cursing himself, he went to Simon's room.
The door was closed, but not locked. Mal knocked. No answers. He opened to find the room empty, the small bag sitting unpacked on the bed. The other one, the medical bag, was missing.
Trying to push a chilling image out of his mind, Mal set the plate on the bed and turned around, checking the other passenger cabins as he went. They were all empty. Luckily, there weren't that many places to hide on a ship the size of Serenity, at least not if you didn't know its many secrets.
Finally, passing next to the infirmary, Mal realized his mistake. Simon wasn't hiding. Mal was the one who hadn't been mindful enough on his first passage. Simon was rummaging through a drawer, his back to him. Mal went in, trying to be as loud as possible.
"You should replenish your stock," Simon said, saving him the trouble of finding a conversation starter. "A good part of your products are out of date or nearly. I will make you a list before we part."
His voice was firm, but Mal could hear a barely contained emotion behind it. Maybe pain, maybe rage, he couldn't tell. That was always better than apathy.
"Listen, doc...," he began before searching for words.
Simon's shoulders slumped.
"I don't feel like continuing this conversation, captain. I'll see you tomorrow."
The doctor passed next to him without meeting his gaze. Sighing, Mal let him go, then went back to the others when Simon closed his door. The atmosphere was heavy around the table. Jayne was eating with an appetite because he was a brute and a moron, but Kaylee's eyes were red. No one asked how it went. Mal had gone back too fast for it to be anything else than a failure. Kaylee nearly ran away when she finished her plate, probably going to take refuge near her engines. Mal should have followed her, but trying to talk to Simon had already exhausted all his reserves. He hoped that Zoe or Inara would take care of it, but before they did, the preacher got up. Well, better him than Mal. He poured himself another drink.
It was going to be a long night.
Simon remained cloistered in his room for the rest of the trip. He came out with darker circles under his eyes than before he left, but at least he had eaten the food Kaylee had left on a tray on his doorstep after every meal. Unless he just hid or puked the food. Mal wouldn't ask. Not his problem, or so he tried to think.
"Ready to meet your patients?" he asked when Simon joined him in the cargo bay after they landed, his doctor's bag in hand.
"I suppose I am."
"They must be eager to meet you. The pay's not that good, but it's a lot for colons like them."
"About that. We should talk about your payment," Zoe said.
Simon frowned.
"My... payment?"
Mal rolled his eyes.
"Of course. You're part of the crew, for this job at least. Everyone gets paid."
"I suppose it would be good to restock, but I don't need anything. You will tell me of much I get."
He turned away. Zoe and Mal exchanged a look behind his back, more than a little worried about his indifference. But, well, it would make more money for the rest of them, and Jayne even smiled at him for the first time. Mal still wanted to shake the young doctor.
The cargo door opened, and everyone took a step back. Simon let out an audible reach that no one could mock. The young dandies of Osiris probably never had to face such a dreadful smell. Mal himself wanted to shout at Wash to close the door. Instead, he cautiously looked outside. They had landed in the fields near the town. They looked abandoned. The harvest would be small, if not inexistent.
"With a name like Fiddler's Green, I imagined the place would be more pleasant," Simon murmured as he stepped forward. "In the Earth that Was' old songs, Fiddler's Field was supposed to be the green paradise that awaits sailors after their death. Not this… hellhole."
Not a bad word to describe the place. Serenity's ramp ended in a pool of brownish water that overflowed into the neighboring field.
"Don't know of these songs, doc, but it sounds very much like false advertising to convince colonists to risk the travel. Never been here, but I've traveled enough to recognize it: this is a perfect example of terraforming failure."
Simon took a long, shocked look around. Like everyone, he had seen the commercials. They played on a loop on some planets, images of green fields stretching to infinity, the deserted hills just waiting to be conquered. That was the propaganda. This was reality, just like Regina with its sick children. Well. It was probably worse than Regina. Mal wanted to throw up suddenly, not because of the smell, but because it brought back images of Shadow. It had been a nice place before the war and the Alliance. Did it look like that now?
They walked down the ramp in silence, followed by Zoe, Kaylee, and Jayne. The latter bumped into the doctor as he passed, nearly pushing him into the stagnant water.
"So doc," he snickered, "Are you goin' to get sick? Want to leave?"
Simon raised an eyebrow in his direction.
"You realize I studied medicine, right? You may kill people as a living, but I've seen the inside of a human body more often than you have, and even put my hands in it, occasionally. The smell have surprised me, but I can assure you, I smelled worse thing than that."
Zoe laughed softly. Mal held back a smile. For the first time, Simon showed he may have the backbone to live in this godforsaken corner of the universe. Jayne was so surprised he stepped into the marsh to head with great, vexed strides towards the village. The others followed suit.
The village, large enough to be called a city at this stage of colonization, was spotless. Too clean, in fact, compared to what Mal was used to seeing on this kind of planet. People who were used to living with such a stench didn't take care of their house. They gave up the pretends. It meant they had wanted to give their visitor a first good impression. They wanted them to trust nothing would go wrong. Even more telling, there wasn't a single child hanging around the streets. All the shutters were closed. Mal was immediately on alert. Zoe darted suspicious glances on both sides of the path. Jayne made sure his gun was easily accessible and Kaylee moved closer to Zoe, shivering.
Three men and a woman came out of a long building. Mayors, elders of something like that, given their more or less clean clothes. They didn't come forward, watching them approach while remaining a tight group. One of them was wringing his hands nervously.
"Which one of you is the doctor?" asked the oldest of the men when Simon and the crew joined them.
"I am," Simon introduced himself.
Mal held back a gnashing of teeth. He didn't trust the old man, and Simon should have seen that something was wrong. He was the only one who seemed clueless. The woman reached out to shake Simon's hand. "Thanks for coming. Come on."
Before Mal could protest or react, she had dragged him inside the building. The three men immediately blocked the way to prevent anyone from following them, but Zoe pointedly put her hand on her gun and Mal pushed with his shoulder to force his way through, signaling the other two to stay outside.
It was dark inside, but Mal's eyes adapted quickly enough to see they were in a large, low-ceilinged room. Some lights were still working, but they gave little light, just enough to make out the beds and benches where dozens of sick people rested, sitting or lying down. The smell was even worse there than outside. Mal held back a gag. He saw Zoe put her arm in front of her nose and did the same. Simon, however, didn't seem bothered by the smell. The doctor looked around him with a sort of cold detachment that Mal envied him. The young man took a breath and straightened his shoulders.
"When did the epidemic start?"
So it was indeed an epidemic. Mal swore. He should have known that things would go wrong. They had avoided trouble too often these past few weeks.
"The deal is off," he decided. "Come on, doc."
The woman pulled out a pistol. It was almost an antique, but it could still kill a man.
"The doc's staying. We need him."
"You asked for a doctor, yes, but you said nothing about an infectious sickness. Your money doesn't made up for that kind of risk. Let's go, doc."
Simon took a step back, away from Mal. There was a determined look in his eyes.
"I'm staying."
"Don't be stupid."
"I'm a doctor. These people are sick. I'm staying, but you should get back on board. There's no point in you catching what they have."
Mal grabbed his arm and forced him away from the group. Two more guns came out immediately.
"How serious it is?" he whispered.
"I still have to examine the patients, but... judging by the number of beds occupied, and given the size of this community, I'd say yes. It's serious and contagious. You'd better go."
"You?"
"I took an oath."
Simon forced Mal to let go of him. For him, the conversation was over. He walked towards the patients with a sure step, already opening his bag to put on his gloves. Mal watched, fascinated. It was like a different man took the place of Simon. No uncertainty there, just the conviction he was doing his duty. If it was bravery or stupidity, Mal couldn't tell. Maybe both. Either way, Mal didn't plan on lingering. He motioned for Zoe to follow him. No one tried to stop them from leaving. Only the doctor interested them and since he was staying voluntarily, they didn't need hostages.
Kaylee breathed a sigh of relief when she saw them come out.
"I was worried... Where's Simon?"
"He's staying. We're going back to Serenity."
She opened her mouth to protest, but Jayne cut her off.
"Good. Let's get off this planet as soon as possible."
"I said we were going back to Serenity, Jayne, not leaving. We hired the doc. We can wait a few days to see how the situation evolves before taking him home."
"What? And what if we get sick, too?"
"If one of us gets sick, I'd rather it be on a planet where we can see a competent doctor. And now, let's go. I don't want to hear any more protests."
Kaylee lowered her head. Zoe nodded silently. There were no more protests. People rarely protest for long when death is at stake. Everyone was ready to applaud heroes, but rarely to be ones. And if they were unhappy with Mal's decision, they could always sacrifice themselves like Simon did.
Mal had been right, thinking no one would protest. Wash had whistled in admiration for the doc before dragging Kaylee towards the engine room. There was no way he was going to waste these few days of rest when Serenity direly needed maintenance. The only thing that bothered him was the smell that was getting everywhere, including the ship, if they didn't close the hatch.
"This is the opposite of a romantic vacation," he grumbled before Zoe silenced him with a kiss.
Inara had adopted much the same attitude. She had raised an eyebrow and expressed her admiration for the doctor, but she didn't want to get close to the dying any more than anyone else. As long as one of her clients didn't call, she was happy to rest in her shuttle. Mal would not hold it against her, because he did mostly the same.
The preacher was the only one who did more than wish for Simon to succeed. He acknowledged Mal had done his duty in bringing the crew back on board and said he'd offer his help to these poor people. As if dying people needed a preacher as much as they needed a doctor. Still, Mal had let him go. He would not applaud, but he would not mock him either for wanting to feel useful. He wished the preacher good luck and started thinking. They were on a planet full of sick people. It wouldn't be long before a few healthy men figured they could take over Serenity and force her crew to take them away from Fiddler's Green.
Mal wasn't about to make it easy for them. He moved Serenity further away from the village, to a high hill where they could see anyone trying to approach from Serenity's bridge, and ordered that someone stand guard day and night. After that, they started waiting.
Three days passed. Mal was currently keeping watch on the bridge while the others played cards and laughed. He could hear them laughing while he was bored to death. There was nothing to look at, except the dirt path that wound down between fields where the crops were rotting on the ground. Lovely.
A series of insistent beeps distracted him as he yawned. It was a message on the cortex. Seeing it originated from Regina, Mal opened it.
"Zoe! Come here!"
There were some curses in the kitchen, but Zoe left the game and came, her cards still in her hand.
"Something going on, sir?"
"Read this and tell me if you're thinking what I'm thinking."
"Thanks again for that small service you did for us. You are welcome among us whenever you want, but I imagine you'll not be around in this corner of the 'Verse for a long time," Zoe read. "It smells bad."
"Ain't we agree. How's the maintenance going?"
"They've made good progress these past few days. Should I put them back to work?"
"Do so. And contact our friends who are better with the cortex than we are. I'd feel more comfortable if this message disappeared completely. And all our other communications with Regina."
"I'll deal with this right away, sir. You?"
"Know what? I'm thinkin' I'm goin' to stretch my legs in town. Keep watch."
Mal grabbed his coat and left, trusting Zoe to execute his orders. In the cargo bay, he grabbed the belt and pistol that were hanging on the railing and opened the doors. The smell hit him again, a melange of swamp and rotting vegetation, maybe something else he didn't recognize. Whatever it was, it was awful. Maybe the locals were used to it, but he doubt it. More than likely, they had put nearly all their savings into this trip. They could save just enough to call for a doctor, there was no way they were leaving.
The hill they landed on was close to the village. Mal walked down a waterlogged path. It hadn't rained since they landed, but the land was soaked with water, as if the planet was trying to spit out all the water in its subsoil. Maybe Fiddler's Green hoped the day the water would reach their knees, the colonists would pack up and leave, but they wouldn't. Colonists were the same on every planet, stubborn and desperate. They would die here, from the disease, poverty or exhaustion.
The path from the hill went through the cemetery. It was quite full for a planet that had been open to colonization for about five to ten years. The graves were all recent and seemed to sink into the water. From here, water ran down the hill to the village. Mal didn't like that at all. These people had made a mistake putting their tombs here. The smell was stronger in this zone, and it was better not to wonder why. Mal quickened his pace.
The village was almost deserted. A few passers-by walked in a hurry in the main street, their shoulders hunched. No one looked at Mal. There were no children. Their parents probably kept them inside, hoping it would be safer for them. If the poor kids weren't already in one of the freshly dug graves.
Upon seeing the long low house, which probably served as a meeting room before it had been converted into a dispensary, Mal slowed down. He hadn't thought about what he would do once he got there. Mal didn't want to go in there, or even get close. He was about to pace outside waiting for someone to come out when he heard a small laugh. Turning his head, he saw two girls giggling. They were trying to be discreet, but Mal followed their gaze and smiled when he realized they were ogling Simon and nudging each other to dare the other to go talk to him. The young doctor was sitting on a bench, his head leaning against the wall, enjoying the sunlight on his face. His eyes were closed. Mal had to say that even with his thinness and paleness, Simon was a very attractive young man. Mal held back a laugh and go to sit next to Simon. The girls looked disappointed. The window was closed, for now. But they would be back.
Simon barely opened his eyes when Mal sat next to him.
"You're holding up, doc?"
"I... barely," the young man admitted. "I need to sleep for a few hours, or I will make mistakes, but I can't. There's too much to do."
"Do you know why these people got sick?"
"You were right, it's a terraforming failure. Pockets of trapped gas in the caves of the planet's soil have led to a terraforming failure. With agriculture, the soil is gradually cracking and gases are escaping, including ozone in quantities harmful to humans. It causes lung and heart problems and slows down the growth of plants."
Ozone. That was the smell that Mal hadn't recognized. Well, it explained things.
"On top of that," Simon continued, "the soil is very clayey and as soon as it rains, the earth becomes saturated with water that gradually rises to the surface where it stagnates for days. As a result, crops have difficulty growing and bacteria proliferate in puddles and ponds. Hence the epidemic that struck already weakened people."
"A perfect recipe for disaster. I didn't know you knew anything about geology and in agriculture."
"I learned a few things talking to Regina's miners. The rest I learned from these people. They themselves don't understand everything that went wrong in the terraforming process. The Alliance should send specialists to analyze the situation and correct the problem, but..."
"As long as they get what they want from Fiddler's Green, they don't give a damn if the colonists die. There will always be others who agree to try making a life here."
"You got it right on the first try. A golden star for you."
Mal raised a mocking eyebrow.
"Careful, doc, you're going to become as cynical as me."
"How not to? We live in the same universe. Although I may have been raised in a better environment, I am capable of seeing for myself. Why should I be less cynical?"
It made sense, but it rubbed Mal the wrong way, even if he wasn't sure why.
"How long 'till you contain the outbreak?"
"A few days, maybe. We're making progress. The numbers of patients is already dropping. For people with no medical training, they've done pretty well. They've kept the sickness from spreading to the nearby settlements. You can be reassured, we should leave soon.
Mal sighed.
"On that note, we got a message from Paradiso's sheriff. He wasn't very talkative, which is probably for the best, but his message strongly suggests that you'd better stay away from Regina in the near future, or, well, forever."
Simon straightened up and looked at him quizzically.
"Do you think…" he asked before trailing off.
"Whatever you did to get the Alliance's attention, you did a pretty good job. They won't let you go. You'll have to tell me about it sometime."
Simon shook his head and looked away. It was clearly the last thing he wanted to talk about.
"I doubt it is that much interesting of a story."
"You're wrong. I'm getting very interested. But for now..."
The dispensary door flew open.
"Doctor!" a woman with bulging eyes shouted.
Simon jumped to his feet and started running like a madman. Mal followed suit. Once inside, he regretted his decision. It was chaos, and Mal was only getting in the way. Simon was shouting orders at the top of his lungs and everyone was running to obey him, bringing him gloves, a mask, his bag. At least the room was less cluttered than the last time, Mal thought before realizing why and where some patients had disappeared. Book saw him and came to welcome him. He looked exhausted, just like Simon.
"We should move out of the way. At this point, we'll only be a nuisance."
"Because after whatever's happening, we can be useful?"
Mal doubted that, and even more when the preacher offered him a tired and hollow smile.
"My work begins when the doctor's ends. Young Flora has been fighting for two days, but it was a losing battle. Everyone knew it, except Simon."
"He's a doctor. Shouldn't he know that better than anyone?"
Book gave him a penetrating look, then sighed. He dropped onto the nearest bench, close to the wall.
"Simon decided this one would live. He put all his hopes on her. Doctors do that, sometimes. Priests too. It is only thanks to his conviction she tried to fight for so long. He has already lost six patients in three days. But today, conviction and dedication weren't enough. When it's over, I'll try to find the words to comfort the girl's parents. Simon will need company, too."
Across the room, Simon was yelling at the patient to hold on. He was facing away from them. Mal couldn't see what was happening, but Simon's voice was so convinced he wanted to hope the doctor was right and Book was wrong.
Suddenly, Simon's voice broke. His shoulders slumped. Mal looked away. He had lost many men, but whether a captain or a doctor, each death was a personal offense. Simon had lost six patients in three days. Well, seven now. It was a lot. It was surprisingly few. Looking more closely at the room, Mal saw they weren't fewer patients. The room was recently reorganized. No more patients on the floor or benches. Someone had repaired a few lamps and opened a window so that the air was a little less stale. With Simon guiding them, the locals were remarkably efficient. Ever since Simon operated on Zoe, Mal knew he was a good doctor, but now he felt even more impressed.
The sudden silence informed Book and Mal it was over. The preacher went to take the hands of a grieving woman. He whispered something to her, probably some hollow words. Mal still hoped it would help. He threw a look toward the operating table. The dead girl was barely out of childhood. She must have been between fourteen and sixteen. She would have become very pretty once the last traces of acne disappeared from her round face. What a waste. Life was unfair, but the Alliance's indifference was worse.
Mal turned his attention back to Simon. The young doctor was still standing next to the corpse, his shoulders shaking and his hands clenching on the bedsheet. He had trouble breathing, like a soldier on a battlefield. Book was right. Mal knew what to do in a case like that. He gently placed a hand on Simon's shoulder. Simon didn't react.
"Come on doc, I think you need some air," he murmured in a soothing voice while delicately detaching his hands from the sheet. After that, he dragged the young man towards the door, still whispering to him, asking him to move one foot forward, then another. Simon obeyed, but didn't even seem to realize what was happening around him, didn't hear the mother's incoherent cries.
Once outside, Mal first thought was to force Simon to sit on the nearest bench, but he remembered the two girls spying on him earlier, and moved the man further away from prying eyes, toward the cemetery. It was a gloomy place, especially after what just happened, but here no one would see Simon in shock. Mal forced him to sit on one bench, his back turned to the cemetery. They stayed there until Simon finally moved. He looked more aware of what happened around him, but Mal hated to see how hollow his eyes were.
"I shouldn't have left her," Simon mumbled. "I should have stayed. If I did, I could have saved her."
"Fèihuà. How long were you out of there? Half an hour? You said it yourself, a doctor who doesn't take a break is a doctor who makes mistakes. Who's sayin you wouldn't have done worse by staying? I know I ain't."
"I was so sure I could save her."
Mal wasn't sure he was listening to him, but he still tried to reach out.
"Sometimes believing in impossible things is enough to help you succeed. Sometimes it isn't and you fail. Life's a bitch. You did you best."
Simon snorted sarcastically.
"I always do my best. But it's never enough. It was never enough for my father and doing my best didn't help my..."
He choked on a sob. His eyes were red but dry. His left hand was moving on his leg, turning and turning an invisible object between shaking fingers. In a flash, Mal saw a scalper red with Simon's blood. He didn't know where that fear came from, but he would tell Book to keep an eye on the doc. Later. For now, he didn't dare leave him alone. Awkardly, Mal put a hand on his shoulder.
"I'm sure that if this girl didn't suffer too much, it's thanks to you. I know what it's like. Soldier, doctor,... It's all the same. We count the lives we lose, not the ones we save, but now what? I'm sure you saved more life with your doctering than I ever did with my soldiering."
"Maybe. But the ones I saved weren't the ones that count."
Mal nodded, his throat tight. He knew what Simon meant. How many times had he came back to camp, so proud to have done his part only to discover one of his men had died and he wasn't even there to help?
"Flora, River... I thought I could save them," Simon continued. "I was holding her hand. Why did I let go of her hand?"
"River? A girlfriend?"
Simon stared at the horizon.
"Sister," he confessed. "I tried. I tried so hard. I should have done more. If I had been more prepared…"
"Stop right there. I didn't know that River, but let me tell you something I know. If she was your sister, she wouldn't blame you for just trying and failing. Sisters don't do that."
Mal could only see a bit of Simon's face, enough to see the tear running down his cheeks. The young man took a deep breath that turned into uncontrollable sobs. Mal squeezed his shoulder and turned his head away to give him a moment of privacy. Simon could well be crying for the first time since his sister died. It would explain a lot, and Mal would not judge. He just waited for Simon to calm down, wondering if there was anything he could say to help.
Probably not.