by Steven Brust
She couldn’t deal with the ghosts, because they weren’t her ghosts. She could maybe help them deal with the ghosts, but if she did….
Two by two, hands of blue.
She didn’t hear him come in, but when she looked up, he was there, his face, as always, smiling, and worried.
“Mei-mei, are you all right?”
He asked it as if it were a question that could be answered, as if an infinity of variables could be encompassed in a single constant. She struggled to translate, to simplify, to determine essence, and to rephrase the question into terms that could become a single, determinate answer that he would understand, and that would be as little a lie as she could manage.
“I’m torn between probability vectors with mutually exclusive benefits and the likely destruction of different targets and I can’t find a trajectory that avoids all of the negative outcomes without a radical shift in the entire matrix, which we haven’t the capability to carry out anyway, and I have a headache.”
Simon hesitated. “I’ll get you something for the headache,” he said.
Yuva: Canteen
Mark gave them their beers and then acted as if they’d never met. Mal led Zoë to a corner table and sat down.
“It’s a bad idea, sir,” she said.
“Most like it is.”
“Okay. How are we going to do it?”
“I guess we should see if Wash can find us a layout of the local lockdown.”
He felt Zoë studying him. “You don’t like this either, do you sir?”
“Not all that much.”
“Is it really necessary?”
“Your beer’s getting warm.”
“Thank you, sir. I wouldn’t want to get killed with the taste of warm beer in my mouth.”
“Zoë—”
“Maybe I should order a raw egg.”
“Zoë—”
“Think they have raw eggs here? I mean, real ones?”
“Zoë—”
“A fake egg in my beer before dying wouldn’t be at all the same thing. Don’t you agree, sir?”
“Zoë, what the gorram hell are you doing?”
“Trying to figure out what the gorram hell you are doing, sir. I can’t back your play if I can’t see it.”
“Zoë, I can’t—”
“You need to let me in, sir. I can’t help from the outside. Not this time.”
Mal leaned back in his chair and stared at his beer, trying to keep all expression off his face, so Zoë wouldn’t see that he was feeling the walls closing in. She waited, silent, with all the patience she’d learned in the war, waiting for attacks that they knew were coming, but never knew when or what form they’d take.
Patience was a powerful force. They drank their beers and waited for each other.
Eventually, Mal started speaking.
Serenity: Bridge
The alarm never went off.
The first warning he had, less than a minute after disconnecting with Mal, was when Serenity shook and pitched about three degrees to starboard before righting herself again.
“Wang ba dan,” he said, his hands already finding the emergency warm-up sequence. With his first spare fraction of a second he punched the intercom and said, “Kaylee!” and checked to see which indicators were blinking red, which were solid red, and which were green.
The grav-boot was still good, the engines would fire, and—
In less time than it took to think about it, Serenity was off the ground. She wasn’t happy about it; she moaned, and the controls fought him and complained, and he didn’t dare leave atmo. But they were airborne before whatever it was that had happened had time to happen again.
Kaylee’s voice came back. “I’m looking.”
“Hull integrity is breached, so we can’t get too high, but I can go up. I need to know if I can count on all my attitude adjusters.”
“Top of the list, then. Ninety seconds.”
“Go.”
Her voice sounded icy calm.
Serenity fought him; a sensation he liked not at all; somewhere not too far below the surface was the panic you feel when you try to open your eyes but they’re already open; when you reach for a glass and your arm doesn’t move. And not too far below that was the memory of the one other time he’d felt controls act like this; and the knowledge that there was no ejecting from Serenity.
Three kilometers up the air was noticeably thinner; the ship tried to grasp and claw at what there was, and hated it that there was nothing to hold on to.
Kaylee’s voice came back. “I found your control problems. Half the starboard extender is gone.”
“Copy that, Kaylee.”
Damn. If it was the whole extender; or, better yet, both extenders, this would be much easier. No wonder she was fighting herself.
“I’ll get you more when I have it.”
He didn’t dare take her any higher. And he wasn’t terribly excited about trying to land her. And he couldn’t keep control of her of this way for much longer.
His whole body was committed to keeping her in the air; leaving his mind free to reflect on which way to go, when all the ways led the same way: down, and much too fast.
Chapter 10
My Own Kind of Courage
Yuva: Jail
“SO THEN, Mister Cobb—if that’s your name—what will it be? Spend the rest of your life digging bauxite, or answer a very simple question?”
“I don’t know. Sounds kinda complicated to me. I’m a pretty simple guy at heart.”
“Of course, you might not be digging bauxite; you might be hauling topsoil. A sack at a time, on your back. That sound like fun?”
“I always did like the outdoors.”
“I’m losing patience, Mister Cobb.”
“Yeah, well you’re breaking my heart, Mister—what did you say your name was?”
“I didn’t.”
“Well, ain’t we gonna be friends?”
The officer’s mouth worked, then he said, “Rennes. Officer Rennes.”
“Yeah, well my heart is breaking, Officer Rennes.”
“It isn’t your heart we’re going to break.”
“Careful. If you scare me, I might faint.”
“You aren’t in any bargaining position, Mister Cobb. If you don’t want to tell us, that’s fine. We don’t need to know.”
“That’s ruttin’ good, because I don’t need to tell you.”
“Are you sure, Mister Cobb?”
“Yeah, tell you what. I’ll answer your questions gen wo de jiba jiangu de cha zai ni de zuiba.”
Officer Rennes punched a button on his desk. “Come take this man back to his cell,” he said. Then he shook his head, sat back, and folded his arms.
Serenity: Engine room
It took her about five minutes to conclude that there was no way to fix the extender without landing, so she turned her attention to the ugly hole in the aft hull, starboard side. It had come right through to the Engine room, not three feet from her hammock.
Wash’s voice came through. “Kaylee, is there anything you can do to give me some stability? I can’t hold this much longer, and there’s no way we survive a landing like this.”
“I could maybe boost the attitude adjusters, but I’d have to run them parallel to the thrusters.”
“Which means?”
“More engine, more juice, more I-grav, more gees, more thrust, more power on attitude, less control, more—”
“Okay, I get it. How long to set it up?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never tried it before. The engine’s going to cut out while I’m hooking it up.”
“Kaylee….” She could hear the strain in his voice. She’d never heard that from him before. “If the engine cuts out, we die.”
“I’m only talking about half a second or so, while I switch lines.”
“Half a second? Okay, maybe I can hold her. Set it up, but let me know before you do it.”
“I will.”
“An
d Kaylee, it would be very helpful you could hurry on this.”
“It’d be easier out of atmo, so we’d stop bucking.”
“Kaylee, I can’t hold this much longer, and the airtight won’t respond from here.”
“I’ll go close it; I’m right there.”
“Chui lei fo, ni jiu shi! Kaylee, get your pressure suit on!”
“I know that, Wash. I will.”
“First!”
“All right. Give me a minute to get suited, then I’ll work on the AT lines.”
“Hurry.”
No question about it. Wash was scared. Kaylee would have been too, only there was no time.
Yuva: Canteen
“Okay, Zoë. We ready to do this thing?”
“Ready.”
On the table in front of him were the notes from Wash about the layout of the security office, and the lockdown behind it. He gave the notes a last look, folded them up and put them in a pocket, then stood up. Zoë was with him.
They exchanged nods with Mark on the way out of the canteen.
They reached North Street; there wasn’t a great deal of activity. As they approached the security office, Zoë said, “That wasn’t there before, was it?”
“Nope.”
“Looks like the sort of thing you’d transport a prisoner in, doesn’t it, sir?”
“Yep.”
“We might be too late.”
“It’s possible.”
They were within fifty feet of the hovercraft when the office door opened, and there was Jayne: shackled, fettered, with a guard in front and one at each side.
“Or we could have come at just the right time,” said Mal.
“We changing plans sir?”
“Don’t we always?”
“Pretty much.”
“What do you think about taking the hovercraft?”
“Should work.”
“You get the driver.”
As it went down, Mal decided, it played out far smoother, and even slicker than it had any right to: the security guards loaded Jayne into the back of the ’craft, by which time Zoë had secured the driver. The security guards locked the door and found Mal’s weapon pointing at them. A few words were exchanged, and the three security officers were on the ground with their hands clasped behind their necks.
Mal stopped long enough to remove a set of keys from one of them, hoping they were the right ones but not caring too much, then he climbed into the passenger seat, and they were out of there before he had time to close the door.
Then he flipped on his comm and said, “Wash, get her warmed up.”
His only response was static.
He boosted the signal and tried again. Then boosted it still more, and then maxed it.
Wash’s voice, when it came through, was very faint.
“Yeah, Mal. Well, there have been some developments.”
“Wash, where are you?”
“About seven clicks from your position.”
“All right.”
“Straight up.”
Yuva: Outside the jail
He pulled himself to his feet, muttering generalized curses toward the driver of the ’craft. They’d taken off before he’d even had time to sit, knocking him onto the floor. He made it to one of the opposing sets of built-in steel benches, and sat down.
He needed to relax, to be ready, from the minute the door opened, to note where he was, what the conditions were, and to begin planning his escape.
Why didn’t I just tell them what they wanted to know? he asked himself for perhaps the fiftieth time in as many minutes. It isn’t like I owe the captain anything.
No, there was no point in thinking about that. He needed to be at his best, to get the information, to formulate a plan.
Except that formulating plans was never his best game.
No, now was not the time to think about that, either.
Be ready, Jayne. You need all your gorram wits about you from the instant that door opens.
It was sooner than he thought. The abrupt stop almost knocked him to the floor again, but he kept his seat.
The back opened, and the light struck his eyes.
“Okay, Jayne,” said Mal. “Let’s see if any of these keys fit. It’ll make running easier.”
Outside Yuva
She kept an eye out for their pursuers, who couldn’t be all that far behind, and, as Mal unlocked Jayne, she tried to spare half an eye for him, as well.
“Running?” he said. “Why don’t we take—”
“Okay, Zoë . . .we’re good.”
“What about the hardware?”
“Good idea.”
Mal gathered up the chains and restraints and set them in the vehicle, then closed the rear door and nodded to her. She leaned into the hovercraft, set it, strapped down the throttle and jumped back. The ’craft took off down the road, wobbling a bit from the open door.
“They have a trace-lock on it,” said Mal. “Into the woods now, and let’s run.”
Before they had gone fifty meters, two patrol vehicles came humming up the road; fortunately, they continued after the ’craft without even slowing down.
“I hear horses,” said Mal.
Zoë nodded, and they continued running.
“Anyone got a spare gun?” said Jayne.
“Let’s just run for now.”
“I like running more when I got a gun in my hand.”
A few minutes later they stopped and listened.
“Nothing yet,” said Mal.
Jayne said, “About that gun….”
She looked at the Captain. As far as she was concerned, Jayne unarmed was much better company than Jayne armed.
“Yeah,” said Mal. “Let’s talk about that.”
“Don’t need no ruttin’ talk,” said Jayne. “I need a ruttin’ weapon.”
“We’ll see.”
“If you weren’t planning to give me a weapon, why’d you bust me out of there?”
“For your mind,” said Mal. “We need all kinds of your wisdom.”
“What the gorram hell are you talking about?”
“I’ll explain later. Right now, I want more distance. Let’s run.”
“A gun—”
“I’ll give you a gun uguo ta ka zai ni de gangmen zhong er ni hai neng pao de hua, Jayne.”
The big man scowled, and they ran some more.
Good call, Captain .
Half an hour later they stopped and listened again. Still nothing. Mal found his comm link. “Wash? You there?”
Crackle and hiss and, “Just barely, Mal.”
“Can you get a fix on us?”
“Mal, if I let go of these controls long enough to do that, we’re going down hard.”
“All right. If you get the chance, we’re staying here for a bit.”
“Copy, that.”
“All right, Jayne,” said the Captain. “Let’s talk.”
Zoë folded her arms, her fingers brushing the butt of the backup pistol under her left arm; she kept a close eye on Jayne.
Serenity: Dining room
“I’m not sure what’s going on, mei-mei,” said her brother, “but I don’t think it’s anything we can help with.”
“She’s been shot,” said River.
“Who?”
“Serenity.”
“Oh. Yes, I felt that. But we managed to take off, and now I’m not sure—”
“The others are waiting for us, and we can’t get there.”
“I don’t—”
“The hole is too big, and the repairs are too slow. We can’t land in time.”
“Mei-mei, there’s nothing we can do.”
Every once in a while, in all the conflicting rhymes and rhythms and colors and equations and smells that made the criss-crossing interference patterns that were her thoughts, something came through clear and clean, almost painful in its sharp contrast to everything else. It was never a sight, an image; sometimes it was a chord progression, sometimes it wa
s tactile. This time, it was like becoming a sine wave with the tide of battle coming in, and there were moments trying to float in on her. She was as aware of them as one could be aware of a single match in a room of pure darkness.
It was a moment, and the wave would advance, and then recede, and maybe something would still be there, and maybe it would not.
She could taste it like a single drop of lemon juice.
That one place, that one time.
And all she had to do was something she had never done before.
But it was not as difficult a decision as it could have been, because for her, failure would mean little pieces of herself scattered about Hera, and They would never be able to touch her after that.
Her hesitation was so brief, her brother didn’t even notice it.
“Yes there is,” she said. “I can save them.”
Outside Yuva
Mal clicked off the comm, looked at Jayne, looked at Zoë, and shrugged.
“Did you catch any of that, sir?”
“I picked up that your mister is a busy guy.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And it seems like my boat has got a hole put in it.”
“They found her with the gun.”
“Speaking of guns—” said Jayne.
“So it seems,” said Mal to Zoë. “And someone wasn’t paying attention to the proximity—”
“And they put a camo field up in front of her.”
Mal stopped. “A camo field? Where would they get technology like that?”
Zoë stared at him.
“Oh,” he said at last. “Yeah, we ran into a few of those, didn’t we?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Not five thousand miles from this here spot.”
“Yes, sir.”