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One– Unify or DieDoctor Simon Tam watched his sister move lazily across the empty cargo bay of Serenity, graceful as she swung her arms in a wide arc and turned and twisted to some un-heard music of her own. At first the movement seemed mindless, but soon she lapsed into the elaborate footwork of a complicated dance he could vaguely remember her performing when she was half her current height, but as lithe and talented as ever. She had been six or seven, tulle skirt billowing as she performed the rapidly-learned choreography for the dignitaries their parents had for guests at dinner one night, beaming as they applauded.
He wondered if she could remember that night, or if the steps were automatic, rising to the surface of her brain as often did some less innocuous things. Snatches of conversation. Nightmares that were real, or had been once. And the voices, screaming and screaming, waking her from her adjoining bunk stumble into Simon's room and sob quietly as he soothed her back to sleep. Those nights were never pleasant, but this dancing– River could almost be her old self, leaping and pirouetting across the floor of their palatial childhood home. She could almost be her old self, except…
This was the dull gray cargo bay of a disreputable Firefly-class transport ship, and they were outlaws, and with the snatches of long-lost dance recitals also came memories of needles in her forehead and men with blue hands and always, always, the screaming that nobody else could hear. He'd thought she was getting better.
"But I am getting better," River said calmly, not breaking from her rhythm. "Come dance with me."
Simon smiled slightly and descended the stairs to the floor of the cargo bay. She met him with a whirl of skirts and patter of bare feet on the floor, grabbing his hands and pulling him along in her wake, like a leaf caught in a stream. And he was floating, floating, letting her lead because she had always been the better dancer– always been the better anything, really, if she decided she wanted to be. Of course, she never wanted to be a surgeon. And she had a certifiable phobia of men in scrubs and masks now.
Suddenly, she stopped spinning. Simon braced for the breakdown, the inevitable moment when fleeting good cheer would turn into tears and flickers of half-remembered atrocities Simon could only imagine.
It didn't come.
"Kaylee!"
River opened the cargo bay doors with such speed and excitement that Simon had hardly registered the name shouted before Serenity had been opened to the sights and sounds of the planet Santo. Mal had said it was a good place to pick up passengers. Hadn't he gotten Simon and River just a planet away, on Persephone? And the Shepherd, whose spot Kaylee had been sent out to solicit out while the rest of the crew worked.
But Kaylee had returned alone.
"No luck," she said cheerily. "But I ain't givin' up just yet. There's plenty of people what want rides off this planet. Just got to find the right one– I'm sure of it!"
Simon grinned. Kaylee was a perpetual beam of sunshine, even when splattered with engine grease as she usually was.
"Sure, they want rides," he said, smiling. "Just not on this ship."
Kaylee planted her hands on her hips. "Now don't you go sayin' nothing against Serenity again," she insisted. "There ain't a ship in the sky better. And that's a fact. Anyone who can't appreciate that is– well, he's– well, we don't need 'im anyhow. So there."
Simon smiled wryly and glanced out at the wide expanse of Santo visible outside the ship. A dusty planet, under Alliance law but not nearly so civilized or sophisticated as Persephone. The pick of passengers here would be thin, doubtless– petty criminals and would-be pioneers looking for a ride to settlements on Triumph or Beylix. There would be no replacing Shepherd Book, and the inevitable new passenger who tried to fill the hole would probably only succeed in emphasizing the crew's loss.
"But I should be getting' back out– just came in for some shade," Kaylee said brightly, grabbing a turquoise parasol off a crate near the back of the bay. "Heat's somethin' awful out there," she added.
"Suns shine as brightly on the Border as the Core," River said quietly.
Kaylee nodded, a bit confused, but too used to River's cryptic interjections to think too much of the comment. "That's right," she said. "I'd bet there ain't a hotter place in the system on a day like this. But it is real shiny, sky's so clear."
Simon shook his head. "What did you say, River?"
"Unify or die," she whispered, fleeing the protection of the ship as she raced out into the scalding Santo afternoon. "Unify or die!"
- - - - -
"Unify or die? There is rain on Triumph as Ariel, on Shadow as well as Sihnon. And the suns shine as brightly on the Border as the Core. Unify or die! How do you catch more flies? But even if the Alliance did promise more than bitter vinegar– unify or die, my word– even if the lure of a promised shuttle and acre of soil could draw Browncoats from their guns to the central planets, I would urge them yet to hold. How do you catch more flies? With sugar, or with vinegar? I don't expect it matters much, catching flies. This war is about men. And men should not be caught, to be squashed under the heel of impersonal government like so many pestering insects. The independents are men, not flies, and I am certain that no amount of proposed sugar could budge the Browncoats from Serenity Val–"
Jayne Cobb shut the book with a snap, the hologram of the speaker disappearing immediately.
"Shiny," he said sourly. "Books. Why in the 'verse are we stealing ruttin' books?"
"Not just any books," Mal said darkly. "Banned books from the Unification War. Recognize the subject?"
Jayne scowled. "All I hear's a lot of tsway-niou about flies and sugar and fahng-tzong fung-kwong duh jeh. Anyone wantin' this junk's gotta be crazy."
"It's twenty platinum for one crate," Zoe added shortly, turning around in her seat to respond as she piloted the mule steadily toward the ship, just visible in the distance.
Jayne fell silent for a moment. "Those must be some books." He picked up the volume about flies and sugar and opened to the first page, as though he sincerely intended to read it through. From the smooth white page appeared a hologram of the enthusiastic orator, a flickering girl with dark copper hair.
"Jiuyang," she said. "My name is Elizabeth Arnold. I am publishing this in support of the Independent Army."
- - - - -
"So– who's the new recruit?" Mal grunted as he and Zoe lowered one of the crates off the mule and stowed it away in one of the many secret compartments Serenity boasted. "Kaylee?"
But Kaylee was not welcoming potential passengers with her spinning parasol in the entrance to the cargo bay, and neither Simon nor River could be found in the infirmary. Only the latched door to Inara's shuttle and the smell of incense seeping out indicated any sign of life on Serenity.
"Go-se," Jayne muttered. "They left the ruttin' ship!"
"Feds?" Zoe suggested.
Mal shook his head. "Doubt it. It's sand and saloons for miles around. Shouldn't be too hard to find 'em. Best case– they're all out lookin' for passengers. Worst– River had an episode and darted off someplace. And if that's what happened, she can handle herself until we get there. Jayne– stay here and guard the ship. Zoe– let's go."
Jayne watched after as the two left to rescue– once again– the wayward River Tam from whatever trouble she and he brother had gotten into this time.
"Jing-tzahng mei yong-duh," he muttered, pulling the hologram book out of his pocket and opening up to where he left off. "Useless."