He said, “This can’t work if my crew feels they can just concoct their own plan whenever they conjure I’m not working right. Noble thought, maybe, but it can’t work that way.”
Zoë said, “Then what do you want us to do, sir? If Wash hadn’t acted, we’d all be dead now.”
“With all respect to little miss Delphi here, you can’t know that.”
This time, the silence was eloquent, and lasted longer, until Zoë said, “Sir, what do you want us to do?”
“Times like this,” said Mal, “I always ask myself, ‘what would Jayne do?’” He looked around. “Not, you understand, that I’d do it; I just ask myself.”
He didn’t even get a courtesy laugh.
“All right, all of you seem to think I’m in a twist over Inara, but—”
“I don’t,” said River.
Now all eyes were on her.
“All right,” said Mal. “And what does the Oracle think?”
“You just needed to lay a ghost to rest.”
“Ghost?”
“The ghost you have chained up. Ghosts usually walk around with chains. It’s traditional.”
“I don’t—”
“Now you’re done with the ghost, so it’s all fine.”
“You think so?”
River nodded. “Now you can make yourself miserable over Inara.”
“Doctor,” said Mal, “is your sister a shrink as well as, uh, whatever else she is?”
“Captain,” said the doctor, “I give you my word I have no idea all the things my sister might be.”
Whatever Mal might have come up with to say to that was interrupted by the double buzz of the proximity indicator.
“I’ll go check on that,” said Wash, sounding relieved. He headed up to the bridge.
Everyone except River was now staring at the table top; she was looking right at Mal. After a very long and uncomfortable two minutes, Wash’s voice came over the intercom. “Mal, the fed is here and wants to come in.”
“Why the hell not?” he said under his breath. Then he stood up, punched the intercom button, and said, “Okay, Wash. Let him in.”
They all got up and headed for the cargo bay. Zoë reached the button first, and opened the airlock, let down the ramp. Wash joined them.
Kit came in, holding a pair of large duffel bags. He set them down. “I opened the lockers, gathering evidence. This is your man’s stuff. He’ll want it back, if he lives.”
“He’ll live,” said Mal.
Kit nodded. “I wouldn’t stay here long, if I were you. The Special Deputies are eventually going to figure out you aren’t where I said you were, and they’ll come back this way first to pick up your trail.”
“That going to make it hot for you?” asked Mal.
“Hard to say. I can cover a trail pretty good. I might get away with it. And I completed my assignment; that should count for something. Speaking of, may I have my prisoner?”
“Zoë will fetch him for you.”
“Has he said anything?”
“I haven’t asked him anything. Didn’t trust myself.”
Kit nodded. “I should be moving too. I have reports to file, a prosecution to arrange, and maybe even a job to keep, if I’m lucky.”
“If you call that a job.”
“I do.”
“Zoë,” said Mal, shrugging. “Go fetch the prisoner. Kaylee and Wash, get the boat warmed up; I want to be off the world in five minutes.”
“Cap’n,” said Kaylee, “she’s still pretty hurt. Guidance is bad, we got a big hole—”
“Can we make it to a repair station?”
There was a pause, then, “I think so.”
“Then we move. A repair station, then back to Paquin.”
“Paquin, sir?” said Zoë.
“Got some ginseng to return,” he said, prodding Jayne’s bags with his toe.
“Yes, sir,” said Zoë and went off to fetch Bursa-Sakarya. Wash went back to the bridge, Kaylee to the engine room.
The doctor said, “I’ll go see to it Jayne is secured,” and headed toward the med bay.
“Don’t worry,” said River. “She’ll be back,” and turned to follow her brother, leaving Mal alone with the fed.
“Must be hard,” said Kit. “He used to be one of the good guys, which makes it much worse. I’m impressed you didn’t kill him.”
“I’m just proud as a papa of that.”
“And,” continued the fed, “here I am, and I used to be one of the bad guys.”
“Still are, in my book.”
“Is that right? Let me ask you something, Captain Reynolds. During the first two years of the war, ninety-five percent of the Alliance forces were volunteers. After that, they still made up the heart of the army. What do you suppose made them volunteer?”
“Couldn’t say.”
“You don’t think maybe they believed in what they were fighting for?”
“Maybe so. Folk been wrong about things before, believed it was okay to tell other folk how to live. Nothing new there.”
“And maybe they thought it would be a good idea to stop the Sakaryas in the ’verse. And maybe they were right.”
“You worry about right, Agent Merlyn, and keep fixing the ’verse. I got to fix my boat.”
“Good luck with that,” he said.
Zoë showed up then, one arm on the shackled prisoner. Mal looked him in the eye. “Got anything to say, Colonel?”
Bursa met his eye. “It’s what happens when you lose everything,” he said.
“Not always,” said Mal. “Sometimes you find a new thing.”
The fed took hold of the prisoner, and led him down the ramp. Mal walked over and punched the button; the ramp raised, and the world of Hera vanished from sight. As the airlock closed, Wash’s voice came over the speaker: “Strap in, everyone. We’re off the ground in two minutes, and we’re still in rough shape.”
“It could be bumpy,” said Zoë.
Mal looked at her. She looked back at him. “Just trying to save you the trouble, sir; you must be tired of saying that.”
They walked back toward the heart of Serenity.
Steven Brust, My Own Kind of Freedom
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends