Firefly--Big Damn Hero Page 19

  Simon and Zoë headed aft, going through the storage area, bypassing the cargo bay. Their searches of the infirmary and the engine room turned up no trace of her. Simon hated the queasy fear churning in his stomach, the ever-tightening pursing of Zoë’s lips as they came up empty everywhere they looked.

  “Zoë, Alliance is nearly here,” Wash reported. “Why hasn’t the shuttle detached?”

  Then Kaylee’s voice shrilled through the comm unit. “I’m in the shuttle with Inara and River’s still not here.”

  “Roger that,” Zoë said. “Wash?”

  He let forth with a string of epithets. “You need to hustle, my friends. Proximity scanner’s lit up like Christmas, Hanukkah, Diwali, and Kwanzaa all rolled into one. Ship’s ident is the I.A.V. Stormfront. Longbow-class mid-range patrol cruiser. More armament than a porcupine’s got quills.”

  Simon blinked. “Zoë. The crates. She was playing the flute to the crates before. Maybe she’s there again.”

  Zoë about-faced and began to run-limp in the direction of the cargo bay. She said through her comm link, “Inara, are you prepped for launch?”

  “Yes. Standing by to uncouple,” Inara said.

  “We can’t leave her here. We can’t,” Simon pleaded as he scooted around Zoë because he could move faster.

  “Tell me something I don’t know,” she snapped.

  Simon’s mind was racing ahead, kaleidoscoping with unsettling what-ifs. What if they couldn’t find River? What if the Alliance got there first? What if they found her hiding place but it was too late to escape into the Black without being noticed? There was no way a shuttle could outrun an Alliance cruiser or its ferocious armament. If they didn’t get off Serenity in time, they would get off her in chains and at gunpoint. And so much for saving his beloved sister.

  He and Zoë rushed out into the ship’s dim, sprawling hold. Zoë hit the ceiling lights and the gray metal deck stretched out below them. The cargo bay seemed close to empty. Even so, there were lots of places to hide in and around the perimeter.

  “There she is,” Zoë said, pointing.

  Simon didn’t see her at first. He scanned each crate in turn. “Where? Where?”

  Zoë pointed. River had prostrated herself on the lid of one of the crates, her arms spread out, clutching it like a life raft on a storm-tossed sea. Simon could hear her babbling away softly to the contents.

  “Let’s go get her quick.”

  Simon hurried after her, catching up as she crossed the deck.

  “Hush, little high-ex, don’t say a word,” River crooned to the crate’s contents, her voice breaking with emotion. “Papa’s gonna stop you and your crazy whirl.”

  “River?”

  She looked up at him, wild-eyed and a little tearful, and said, “They’re coming.”

  “Yes,” Simon said. “So we have to go.”

  She sniffled. “If they open the crate, everyone will die.”

  “They will?” he said. Beside him, Zoë grunted.

  She nodded. “It’s all busy.” She flicked her fingers, imitating fireworks.

  “What are you talking about?” Zoë said.

  “Getting hot,” she said. “Getting busy.”

  Zoë and Simon shared a glance. “We’ll look into it,” she said.

  “Die,” River moaned.

  “They won’t open the crates,” Zoë said.

  “River, you and I have to leave now,” Simon said. “You have to come with me.” He took her hand and helped her off the crate. She didn’t resist. She seemed drained; her eyes had lost their luster.

  “We have to explain,” she repeated. “They are dancing, Simon. Faster, faster.” She tried to pirouette on one foot but he stopped her.

  “Zoë will convince them.”

  “Simon, get her to the shuttle.”

  “I can make the crates listen,” River said. “Tell them to stay calm. They have terrible tendencies. They must fight them.”

  Zoë swore under her breath and rolled her eyes. She took River under her arm. Simon did the same. They crossed the deck, then took the stairs two at a time, supporting River between them. Zoë was limping hard. Each movement cost her. Not only was she in pain but she was putting weight on bones and tendons that needed a chance to knit.

  What are we doing? Simon thought. We’re abandoning the crew.

  He thought about offering to stay behind. If he turned himself in, surely the Alliance wouldn’t bother with examining the cargo too closely. But then Wash, Zoë, Jayne, and Kaylee would be taken into custody for harboring a fugitive. And if the Alliance found Simon Tam aboard Serenity, it wouldn’t be a stretch to assume River had left in one of the two missing shuttles. A shuttle couldn’t hope to outrun an Alliance patrol cruiser hot on its trail.

  “No, Simon, no,” River said.

  Zoë said into her comm unit, “Inara, we found her and we’re coming in hot. Repeat, we’re coming in hot.”

  “I copy, Zoë,” Inara said.

  As they reached the high gangway, Simon stole a quick glance at his pocket watch to see how much time was left, but in his brain’s frazzled state found he couldn’t do the math. “Can we still make it?” he asked Zoë.

  “Shut up and move!” she bellowed at him.

  She bodily lifted River into her arms and raced for the shuttle. Gone was her limp. She was operating on pure adrenaline. Simon puffed to keep up with her, seeing stars when he didn’t round a corner as sharply as she and he slammed into the bulkhead.

  Someone grabbed onto his shirt and dragged him along. It was Jayne.

  “Tourists,” Jayne groused.

  The large man easily kept pace with Zoë. Footfalls clanged as Zoë shouted, “Go, go, go!” and ran ahead. She disappeared inside the shuttle and came back out, circling around Jayne, who was on his way in.

  Before Simon knew was what happening, Jayne flung him into the shuttle and the door slammed shut. The engine roared and the shuttle detached. The beautiful silk brocade curtain that was usually drawn closed to conceal the navigation section from Inara’s place of business was open and River was hunched in the seat beside Inara’s, who was guiding the shuttle out of its resting place on Serenity’s flank. River was muttering to herself. Simon staggered toward her, expecting her to be whispering about the hands of blue.

  “Don’t blow, don’t blow,” she was chanting.

  “River, băo bèi,” Inara said, “please keep quiet.”

  “Where are we going?” Simon whispered.

  “We’re staying out of range by remaining in the same spatial plane as Serenity,” Inara said. “We’re on the side opposite their approach so we’re out of their line of sight, shielding ourselves with the ship. We can’t maintain the position for long, but hopefully it’ll be long enough.” Seeing that he wasn’t following, she said, “Essentially, we’re hiding behind Serenity. Wash is pinging me the latitude and longitude of the cruiser. Each time it moves, I’ll correct my course to match it.”

  He nodded. “River’s very worried about the crates.”

  “I’m sure she’s not alone in that,” Inara said. She added gently, “Perhaps River would be more comfortable in my private quarters.”

  Simon took the hint. Clasping River’s hands, he eased her out of the chair and guided her to Inara’s couch. He put his arms around her and rocked her.

  “Kaboom,” she whispered.

  No sooner were Simon and River inside the shuttle than Zoë sealed and locked the hatch. Inara wasn’t kidding about being ready to launch. Once the red light beside the hatch winked on, indicating a closed airlock, the shuttle uncoupled from Serenity’s power and sensory connections.

  “Good riddance,” Jayne grumbled.

  Zoë, Jayne and Kaylee watched through the door’s porthole as the shuttle undocked and the released umbilicals retracted. When the shuttle had drifted clear of the docking bay, its thrusters roared and flared. The blinding pulse of light grew rapidly smaller and fainter, until it winked out and vanished into the Bl
ack.

  Jayne expelled air from his cheeks. “Do you think they’ll be all right?”

  “Sure do.” Kaylee sounded forlorn.

  Zoë knew Inara had shut down all the shuttle systems, including life support. They’d be breathing canned air for a little while, but it wasn’t for long, so it should be okay. They’d be coasting through null grav at high speed, putting distance between themselves and the cruiser. With no electromagnetic signature, nothing to draw the attention of the Alliance sensors, the shuttle would look like a small asteroid or a hunk of drifting space junk.

  Zoë doubted Simon and River had even had time to buckle in before Inara lit ’em up. Now all they could do was hunker down and wait, hoping the initial blast had gone unnoticed.

  “Where was River hiding?” Kaylee asked.

  “She wasn’t really hiding,” Zoë said. “She was down in the cargo bay, in plain sight, talking to one of Badger’s crates. She was really worried about them.”

  “I am too,” Jayne said. “Worried we ain’t never gonna get paid for all the trouble we’re goin’ through.”

  Engineer and first mate shared a look.

  “Maybe I better check the cargo? No point in taking any chances,” Kaylee ventured.

  “Yeah, maybe you better,” Zoë said with a sigh of resignation. “Everyone needs to stay calm. Alliance will be here soon.”

  Jayne grumbled something about feds and sticky fingers and that he was going to go back to his quarters to hide all his weapons. Zoë let him go. Kaylee headed for the cargo bay and Zoë hurried to the flight deck.

  Her husband was hunched forward in the pilot’s chair, his fingers flitting over the controls, eyes darting from viewing port array to console readouts and back. He was way in the zone.

  “How far off is Stormfront?” she asked Wash as she stepped up behind him.

  “Three hundred klicks out, and decelerating,” he said over his shoulder. “Maybe an hour until they slide up alongside us. If Inara plays her cards right, if she can stay dark for a bit longer, she’ll be okay. You know, the Alliance’s line-of-sight blind spot gets bigger and bigger the nearer they come.”

  Yeah, she knew that. Everybody who wasn’t a complete idiot knew that. Wash was being hyper and jangly, and he had good reason. The inbound Alliance cruiser had to have its missiles and cannons locked onto Serenity. The bastards didn’t need much of an excuse to cut loose.

  “We played it really close,” Zoë said. “But they’re gone.”

  “And it’s not over,” Wash said. “I could’ve made a break for it when we first saw the cruiser, maybe lost them with some jīng căi astrobatics, but now it’s too late. We’ve got to stay here to run interference for Inara and the Tams. We better pray that Badger’s paperwork is rock solid.”

  “And the feds don’t mess with the crates.”

  “With all those warning decals all over them?”

  “They might think we slapped those decals on just to dissuade them from looking too close,” Zoë said.

  What would Mal do if he were here? Give the Alliance officers a whole load of bluff, bluster and baloney. But amiably, with a winning smile on his face.

  Push comes to shove, she thought, that’s what I’m going to have to do too.

  Her game wasn’t nearly as good as Mal’s. But as long as it was good enough…

  The planet Shadow, long ago

  The day Mal realized he truly loved Jinny was the day he caught her and Toby kissing.

  He had been away from Seven Pines Pass awhile. His mother had sent him off to Da Cheng Shi—the largest city on Shadow, although not quite the major metropolis its name might suggest—to buy engine parts for a beat-up old combine harvester she had bought from a scrapyard and was hoping to sell to Bo Hopkirk on the next-door farm. She and Mal had been restoring the vehicle together for the past few weeks, and Bo Hopkirk’s crops were just coming ready and his own combine was on its last legs, so she was expecting he would jump at what she was offering and give her a decent price for it, too.

  The journey to and from Da Cheng Shi was forty-eight hours each way by train, and Mal came home travel-weary and sore to his bones from poorly upholstered bench seats. He hadn’t been able to afford a berth in a sleeping car and had been forced to sleep sitting upright. Still, he had the parts they needed, and he’d haggled long and hard not to pay over the odds for them. He felt pleased with himself, and was looking forward to getting reacquainted with the gang.

  Sure enough, the Four Amigos arranged a meet-up that evening at the Silver Stirrup Saloon. Toby even told Mal that he had an announcement to make. That ought to have been a clue as to what was coming, but Mal was too exhausted to see it. Mal himself, during the long, fitful nights on the train, had been coming to the conclusion that now was the time to make his move with Jinny Adare. He knew how much Toby liked her, and he knew that him horning in on Toby’s plans was going to cause ructions, and no mistake. It might even mean the end of the Four Amigos.

  But Jinny was so gorramn beautiful, so perfect. Her sense of humor was as dark and acerbic as Mal’s own. He felt weirdly elated whenever she smiled his way. He couldn’t help himself. He had to let her know what was in his heart.

  In a cold, calculating corner of his mind, Mal was confident that Jinny would favor him over Toby. Carrot-topped Toby Finn, all earnestness and gawky immaturity, versus Mal Reynolds, the broad-shouldered, chisel-chinned swashbuckler who made girls go weak at the knees and warm in the nethers just looking at him. It was no contest. Jinny, given a choice, wouldn’t even think twice.

  Just to make sure, however, he had bought a gift for her at a pawnbrokers in Da Cheng Shi. It was a gold locket engraved with an ornate, curlicued “J” and suspended on a fine gold chain. It cost more than he could reasonably afford, but the moment he laid eyes on it, he’d known he had to buy it. The “J” was like an omen, something he just couldn’t ignore.

  Mal was taken aback, then, when he walked into the Silver Stirrup shortly after nightfall to find Jinny and Toby already there, at a table. That in itself wasn’t so surprising. What was surprising was that they were engaged in a passionate embrace, lips locked.

  Mal rocked back on his heels, as though swamped by an ocean wave. His head reeled. A herd of elephants could have thundered by and he wouldn’t have noticed.

  Toby and Jinny? Together? An item? How? Why? When? What?

  Recovering some of his composure, he sashayed over to them. “Howdy all,” he said, touching forefinger to forehead like some sort of cowpoke.

  “Mal!” they both cried as one. Jinny leapt to her feet to hug him. Toby shook his hand, wringing it with all the strength in his body.

  “Hey, hey, hey!” Mal said. “I’ve only been away four days. Ain’t like I’m returning from a visit to the Core or nothin’.”

  “My round,” said Toby, scampering over to the bar.

  Mal sat down. “No Jamie?”

  “On his way,” said Jinny. “He said he’d be a little late. So, how was Da Cheng Shi?”

  “Ah, you know. Dirty. Smelly. Full of folks looked like they wouldn’t spit on you if you were on fire. Never mind that, though. I see what I thought I just saw?”

  “What did you see?” Jinny asked coyly.

  “You and Toby being a big old smoochy pair of lovebirds.”

  She looked at him sidelong. He’d tried to hide a note of jealousy in his voice but hadn’t, he thought, done too good a job of it. “Wouldn’t go so far as to say we’re lovebirds, exactly, but yeah, we’ve kinda gotten together.”

  “Kinda?”

  “Early days yet.”

  “How long’s this been brewing?”

  “A while now. Toby’s been more and more attentive. You must have noticed.”

  “Can’t say as I did.” But perhaps he just hadn’t been concentrating. Perhaps he’d been so wrapped up in his own growing feelings towards Jinny that he’d overlooked the way his rival for her affections was flourishing right under his nose.

&
nbsp; “He’s so sweet, Mal. Cute, too. He took me to a shindig over at Sageville the day before yesterday. We danced till sunup.”

  “A date?”

  “I’d call it that. At the end, as we were leaving, he just up and kissed me. I wasn’t expecting it, although I sorta sensed it might be coming. And it was a good kiss. I liked it. And it’s just snowballed from there.”

  “So this is only two days old, this thing?” Mal said, reckoning the relationship was still young enough and tentative enough for him to nip it in the bud if he wanted.

  “But it feels right,” Jinny said. “Feels like it’s been there much longer, bubbling under, only neither of us has realized it.”

  I think Toby realized it even if you didn’t.

  “What’s Jamie think?” he said.

  “Jamie doesn’t know yet. You weren’t supposed to know yet either. Toby wanted to tell the both of you tonight.”

  “Yeah, he mentioned a big announcement. I guessed he was maybe going to try and grow a beard, or dye his hair blond. That or something a mite more dramatic, like signing up with the Independents.”

  Jinny’s expression turned sour. “Don’t say that. Don’t even mention the war.”

  “Ain’t a war yet,” Mal pointed out. “Right now it’s just the Rim worlds making noises about secession and the Union of Allied Planets bragging and bullying and browbeating.”

  “Long may it stay that way.”

  “But it ain’t gonna. Everyone knows that, and those who think otherwise are living in a fool’s paradise. Sooner or later—and my money’s on sooner—the outer planets are going to form an alliance of their own and mobilize, and the Union’ll surely regard that as provocation, even justification for war. You can feel it coming. It’s inevitable. Over in Da Cheng Shi, it’s all anybody’s talking about. There are even recruitment offices popping up. They’ve got all these slogans. ‘Join the cause before it’s too late.’ ‘A timely militia is a ready militia.’ ‘Don’t get caught napping.’ ‘The outer planets need you.’ You can pretend it’s not going to happen, but that’s not going to prevent it happening. Events have a way of developing, faster than you expect.”