Wash was glad he hadn’t mentioned the fact that River was also humming. Very faintly, you’d miss it if you weren’t right up close, and he while wasn’t sure whether this counted as ‘somethin’ fishy’ (he suspected not), he was definitely sure that he didn’t want to attract the attention of the kind of security guards that tended to lurk around a place like this. But River just stood there, eyes darting around the wheel, and humming to herself. After a moment, the hum became a little song, “Red sun… black dragon… red sun… black dragon…” It was so mesmerizing that Wash completely missed the very big man who had somehow come through the crowd and was now standing on his other side.

  “Sonny,” said the very big man, in a very quiet voice.

  Wash nearly hit the ceiling. “Tiān xiǎo de, where in the name of merciful Buddha did you pop up from?”

  “You don’t mind that. But I’m here to tell you that you and your friend and the little girl need to place a bet or leave.”

  Wash leaned forward. “River. Did you hear the nice man? The nice, big man?”

  “I heard,” said River. She turned to the croupier. “What’s the single biggest win there’s ever been at this casino?”

  The croupier grinned at her. “You feelin’ lucky tonight, sweetheart?”

  “Luck,” said River, “is a word used in hindsight to create a sense of narrative cohesion about a series of events which are not necessarily connected.”

  The croupier burst out laughing. “Didn’t ask what you were thinkin’! Asked what you were feelin’.”

  “Yes,” said River, eyes on the wheel. “I’m feeling very lucky tonight.”

  An elderly gentleman, dressed for the occasion with top hat and a formidable moustache, standing a little way round, wheezed with laughter. “Good for you, little girl!” he said. “You know, with you standin’ there alongside me, I’m feelin’ a mite lucky too. And it’s Carnival! Lay your bet, sweetheart, and I’ll match it.”

  River picked up her slip. Her eyes roved around the wheel one last time, and she hummed a little. She placed the slip down. “Thirty-five,” she whispered. “Black dragon.”

  The elderly gentleman cried, “And here’s my slip—twelve, red sun! Shine for me, sun! Make my day!” He looked round the table. “Hey, you fellas! Where’s your manners? You ain’t gonna let this little girl here bet all on her lonesome, are you?”

  There was some general laughter and applause. Another man came forward and put a platinum slip down, on twenty-one, black dragon. After that, another half-dozen bets came in from various quarters. The croupier spun the wheel. Wash held his breath. Round and round went the ball, spinning and spinning and River was humming and then she laughed, and the ball was landing…

  Thirty-five. Black dragon. Everyone round the table cheered and laughed, even the losers. The croupier handed back her stake, and her winnings. Two platinum slips. Wash let out a breath and Jayne cackled. “I gorram knew it! This girl’s a genius. Come on, River— give us your next pick!”

  She stood quietly for a while, and put down both her slips. “Thirteen,” she said. “Black dragon.”

  “Come on!” cried the old man. “Come on, fellas! You don’t want to be beaten by a girl, hey?” He put down two slips too, this time on fourteen, red sun. “I’m sticking with the sunshine, sugar,” he said, nudging River. “Sun’s gotta come up ’ventually.”

  The croupier spun the wheel. River won. More cheers; some gasps. They were starting to get attention from the next table along. River put down her winnings—four platinum slips—on eighteen, red sun.

  “That’s it, sugar!” cried her new friend. “Sun always comes up!” He fished around for a few more platinum slips, placed his bet, and cajoled a few more punters to pony up and join the fun. “It’s Carnival!” he cried. “Live a little before the sun comes up!”

  “Honey,” said the croupier, softly.

  “Yes?” said River.

  “You asked me a question. And the answer’s sixty-five thousand platinum,” said the croupier. “The biggest ever win here. Do what you’ve just done, sweetheart, but do it fourteen more times.”

  A gleam of light appeared in River’s eyes. She began to hum.

  “Zhe ge ji hua zhen ke pa,” muttered Wash, and from this point on he was looking far less at the wheel, and more back over his shoulder. Whatever River was seeing right now, Wash was starting to get far less pleasant visions of what the future might hold. More very big men. Very big, very unhappy men. He counted four, coming their way. River won again. And again. Everyone around the table cheered and placed a few bets of their own to keep her company. And four men came to stand nearby, and watch.

  * * *

  At Anna’s instruction, Inara walked down the hallway. The girl in the doorway watched her, eyes popping at the sight of Inara’s appearance. She said, “Is she… from the Guild?”

  “It’s all right,” said Anna. “She can’t do anything to hurt you.”

  Inara, shaking her head to hear this, went through the door into the kitchen, a clean white room painted white a red-tiled floor. The blinds were drawn, and the lamps were lit, and there was an air of subdued peace. At the heart of the room was a big wooden table, and around this sat half-a-dozen girls, talking quietly and eating supper. They too stopped to stare at Inara and she took a good look back. The youngest was maybe twelve or thirteen, a thin-faced girl who cut off a soft cry at the sight of her; the oldest surely not more than sixteen or seventeen. This one jumped up from her seat.

  “Anna? Who’s this? What’s going on—?” Her hand had gone protectively onto the shoulder of the girl who had cried out, and who was now trembling.

  “Izzy,” said Katarina, her voice clear and calm, “everything’s okay. We’re in charge here. She won’t hurt you.”

  “I certainly won’t,” said Inara. “If I can help—”

  “You can help,” said Anna, “by sitting down and keeping quiet.” She gestured to a chair at one end of the table. Inara sat down, and lay her hands upon her lap, palms up, signaling as best she could that she was no threat. Anna and Katarina stood in the doorway for a while, in whispered, urgent conversation. Inara looked at the girl sitting beside her.

  “Hello,” she said. “My name is Inara.”

  The girl flinched and pulled away.

  “You’ll find that most of our girls don’t react too well to the sight of a companion,” said Anna. “Not after what’s happened to them.” She took a seat at the table across from Inara. “Shall I introduce you? That’s Merry, next to you. She’s fourteen. She grew up in Catsville, a little north of here. The Guild came to town last month, recruiting. Merry was flattered that they wanted her. They gave her a train ticket. Told her she’d be met at the station.”

  Fourteen, Inara knew, was too old to be starting companion training. Anyone with knowledge of the Guild would be immediately suspicious—but why would this girl know the details of Guild law? “What happened, mèi mèi?” she said, very gently.

  “You don’t have to say anything, Merry,” said Katarina, “if it will upset you. You don’t owe her anything.”

  Merry shook her head. “It’s okay.” She stared straight at Inara. “Got a train here to the city. When I landed, couple of men were waiting for me. Took me away and…” She shuddered. “Tried to drug me. When I fought back, they hit me, hard. But not the face. Said they didn’t want bruises on my nice little face.”

  “Oh mèi mèi,” said Inara. “My poor child…”

  “That’s happened to a few of you, didn’t it?” said Anna. “Companion came to town, told you to come to the city, they’d train you or find you work. Others, told to get to the city and there’d be a companion there to meet them, or a job waiting for them. Next thing they knew, Inara, they were in the city, alone, and these men were putting needles into them, and they were in cryo-storage, until we got them out.”

  “There are a couple more sleeping upstairs,” said Katarina. “They’re not recovering so well from it.”

  “Emma here,” Anna put her arm around the girl next to her, “was kept under for over a month. Over a month, Inara,” her anger was rising. “They packed her away to sell off-world to who knows where—”

  “This is not the Guild,” said Inara. “This is not what the Guild does—”

  “No? You sure?” said Anna.

  “Guild woman who came to me,” said Izzy. “Fancy dress, nice talk. Those men—they hurt me—”

  “They must have looked like the Guild,” said Inara, “but I swear to you that the Guild would not—”

  “Stop it,” said Anna, her anger coming through clearly. “Look at them. This is what they’re doing here. Don’t try to deny it—”

  “All right,” said Katarina, cutting through, her voice firm. “I think it’s time for the girls to go to bed. It’s been a scary time and you’re all still recovering. So come on, bed, all of you!”

  She stood by the door and encouraged them through. There were no complaints, Inara noticed, and this struck her as particularly upsetting. So docile. As if some spark had been scared from them. When they were all on their way, Katarina closed the door, and came back to the table. “I hope they’ll sleep.” She looked up, anxiously, toward the floor above. “Some of them already have nightmares. Flashbacks. The sight of you… Who knows what that will set off?” She sighed. “I’ll check on them later.”

  “All right,” said Anna. “What we need to know now is how much you know about what we’ve been doing. How you found out, and who else you’ve told. Does Hilde Becker know?”

  “Katarina,” said Inara, turning to her, “I’ve explained to you already. I’ve never been to Bethel before. I have no idea what’s going on—”

  Suddenly, a little chime rang out, a repeated sound.

  “What the hell is that?” said Anna. “Kay?”

  Katarina, digging into her pocket, brought out Inara’s personal device. “Shit…”

  “Is there a locator on that thing?” said Anna.

  “I turned it off,” said Katarina.

  “It’s an incoming wave,” said Inara. “This might be helpful. Can I—?”

  “You’re not laying your hands on this,” said Katarina.

  “Then at least play the wave,” said Inara. “It might help you.”

  With a nod from Anna, Katarina played back the message. As Inara had hoped, it was from Guanyin, back on Sihnon.

  “Mèi mèi,” said Guanyin. “It’s been too long. I miss you. But you’ve posed quite a puzzle. There seems to be no information about a Guild House on Bethel. It must be very new.”

  Anna shook her head. “Several years now,” she murmured.

  “Even so, that’s very odd. I’m going to look into this, Inara. Thank you for letting me know.” She blew a kiss. “And you know—you don’t need to have an excuse to contact me. Just to talk to you is enough!”

  The wave ended.

  “Who was that?” said Anna.

  “Guanyin is a friend of mine on Sihnon,” said Inara. “A priestess at House Madrassa. I didn’t like what you’d said to me about the hospital supplies, Katarina, so I asked her to investigate. And she’s investigating. Does that help?”

  “Not,” said Anna, “if it’s the prelude to a cover-up.”

  “There won’t be,” said Inara. “The Guild stands and falls on its reputation. If people from the House here are responsible for what happened to those girls, then the Guild will punish, and severely. They do not take kindly to having that reputation tarnished. Believe me.”

  She watched Katarina and Anna waver. She herself was very certain. Girls in boxes, she thought, and the slow, deep rage lit inside her began to simmer over. “You have no reason to trust me,” she said. “But I will do whatever it takes to bring the people who have done this to justice.”

  “Including the Guild?” said Anna.

  “Including the Guild. If the Guild here on Bethel truly is behind this—then it can burn. And I swear,” said Inara, “I’m here to help you light that fire.”

  * * *

  At the Roberts’ residence, Book was still laughing as he scooted over to the newly revealed console. “I said a lot about this city was fake!” He ran his hands over the wooden frame of the billiards table. “I was starting to take a strong dislike to our employer, but what kind of fella does this kind of thing to something like this? Never mind,” his hands began to dance over the screen of the console. “Let’s take a little look-see what’s here…”

  Well, this was turning into a wholly unnecessary distraction. “Preacher,” said Zoë. “We were makin’ plans to leave. Could we keep our attention on the task at hand?”

  “In a moment,” murmured Book. “This is too good an opportunity to miss. We’ve been here all afternoon—”

  “I’m aware of that,” said Zoë. “One reason I’m keen to get on our way.”

  “I’ve spent a lot of time hunting through those shelves,” Book looked up, “and he has terrible taste in literature, by the way, so— please, Zoë, indulge me for a few minutes longer, and let me see what I can find out about Jacob Roberts.”

  “Time’s marchin’ on, Shepherd.”

  “Might find the override to the barriers on the door, for one thing…” He smiled at her. “Sounds to me like everyone’s downstairs enjoying themselves. Roberts will be busy with their comfort and entertainment. You know, Zoë, this room has been a pleasant prison, all things considered, but I still don’t take kindly to being taken away at gunpoint, and it strikes me that a man prepared to do that kind of thing will be prepared to do all manner of things of which the Good Lord might not approve. So let’s get some leverage in our dealings with him.”

  Zoë conceded the point. “All right,” she said. “But don’t take all night.”

  “One thing I like about you, Zoë,” said Book, after a few minutes, “is that you never trouble me overly with questions such as how it might be that a Shepherd would happen to know his way around security systems.”

  “We all got our pasts,” said Zoë.

  “We most certainly do,” said Book, “and sometimes I find myself wondering about yours, Zoë. Before the war, I mean.”

  “Before the war I was a soldier.”

  “Nobody’s born a soldier.”

  “Nobody’s born a preacher. Ain’t none of my business what your past might be, Shepherd,” she said. “Expect you’ll pay me the same courtesy.”

  He smiled and went back to his work. The smile didn’t last. “Now here’s something more than a mite concerning.”

  Zoë came to join him. “What am I looking at?”

  “These are schematics for cryo cases. Cold storage.”

  Zoë considered this. “Why would they be usin’ cryo cases to ship minerals?”

  “Exactly the question I’m asking myself,” Book replied. “I’m no geologist, but I’m hard pressed to think of what would need transporting under such precise conditions.”

  “Foodstuffs?” said Zoë.

  “Well, they might ship them in, but they’re surely not shipping them out. Not much farming to speak of on Bethel, not considering how much of the place is given over to desert.” He looked up at Zoë. “You know what this reminds me of?”

  “Go on.”

  “The case our friend the doctor used to carry his sister on board Serenity.”

  Zoë looked at the schematics. Size was about right. “I’m not sure I like what you’re sayin’, Shepherd.”

  “I’m not sure I like what I’m seeing, Zoë,” he replied. “And I’m very sure that I don’t like being made party to assisting such a shipment in its passage off world.”

  “You think that’s what was in the cases we were guarding? People?”

  The Shepherd carried on working his way through the files. “I don’t know yet. I’d like to find out.”

  “Seems mighty strange Roberts would leave all this information lying about in his files for any passing stranger to find.”

  “Well, we had to hunt to find this console, didn’t we? And let’s say I can dig a little deeper than most.”

  “I ain’t askin’, Shepherd,” she said. “What happens in kidnap club stays in kidnap club.”

  “The Good Lord is looking kindly upon you, Zoë Alleyne,” he replied.

  At least that was something. “You dug up any more?”

  He didn’t answer right away, and when he looked up, Zoë— veteran of some of the most brutal battles of a brutal war—shivered at the sight of his face. “They weren’t minerals we were guarding. They were girls. Folded up in cryo cases, concealed inside crates. Made to look like shipments of minerals for transporting off world. Lǎo tiān yé, Zoë, I hope these tian sha de e mo burn for this…”

  Mask’s slippin’, preacher, thought Zoë, and gave him a moment to collect himself.

  “Anyway,” he said, “seems that was our job. To help that man downstairs ship those girls off Bethel and to the Good Lord only knows where. You know, I’m not happy about that.”

  “Ain’t so happy myself, Shepherd.”

  He turned his attention back to the files, which seemed to cool him down a mite. After a minute or two, he said, “I’ve paid the ransom.”

  “How’ve you done that?”

  “A little creative accounting. Moved some money from an account here, placed it in an account there, moved it on to Mal, moved it on again. Roberts’ own money, coming back to himself.” The Shepherd gave a low and not entirely nice chuckle. “God forgive me, but it’s hardly the worst crime been committed on Bethel.”

  “You’re not wrong there.”

  “Well,” said Book. “Ransom paid, I believe we may consider ourselves free to go.” He looked at her, dead straight. “But what do you say, Zoë? Shall we be on our way, or shall we stay a while, do some tidying up around here?”

  “When you look closely, this place seems awful dirty to me,” said Zoë.

  “And to me,” said Book. “I thought we might be of one mind on this. What do you say we clean house a little, before we go?”

 

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