Firefly - Carnival, page 18
part #6 of Firefly Series
“Not a single scratch between the two us,” said the Shepherd, from behind. “Though you should see the other gentlemen. One of them won’t be running marathons for a while yet.”
Zoë unlocked her mouth from Wash’s and tugged his shirt. “You plannin’ on goin’ to a wedding, sugar? You’ll have to wash the stains outta this first.”
“I’ve had enough excitement for one night,” Wash said. “How did you two get away?”
“We got a mite weary waiting for things to happen,” said the Shepherd, “so we took matters into our own hands.” His eye fell on the table and the open case. “You know, I’m almost afraid to ask,” he said, “but what exactly has been going on back here?”
“Much the same,” said Wash. “No violence. Some minor wounding, maybe, more what I’d call scratching than actual gouging, and that was only near the end when I started to really panic. Mostly there was gambling.”
“I’ll say,” said Jayne. “Went down to the Mile, Shepherd! Won me a gorram fortune!”
“You hit the casinos?” The Shepherd laughed out loud. “Damn, I wish I’d seen that!”
“You’ve seen enough fireworks for one night in my opinion,” said Zoë.
“Maybe so,” he conceded.
“All my idea,” said Jayne, with considerable pride.
“All River’s work,” said Wash.
“How, River honey?” said Zoë, laughing. “How did you do this?”
“I’d like to know that too,” said Wash. “I mean, I was there and I’d still like to know.”
“I listened to the song,” River said, as if this explained everything. “The wheel sang and I listened to her singing.”
“See?” said Wash. “No idea. But it worked.”
“We’re rich,” said Jayne. “I’m rich!”
“River’s rich,” said Wash. “Even richer, if we don’t have to pay any ransom now.” He looked at Zoë. “We don’t have to pay any ransom now, do we? Roberts is all paid back?”
“Oh, we certainly paid back Roberts,” said Book. “But I’d say he’s as yet only received a small portion of what he’s due.” He looked at Jayne. “What the devil are you wearing?”
* * *
When Simon finished surgery, he was off shift, so he took his time cleaning up, and then went to look for somewhere to sit by himself. As ever, after the intensity of theater, he had a powerful desire to be away from other people—outside, ideally. Signs round the hospital indicated there was a small roof garden, so he took the elevator up there. It was nothing magnificent—just a small, paved area dotted with shrubs and potted plants and a few benches—but there was nobody else out there to bother him with conversation or demands. He fell back on one of the benches and sat watching the bright lights of the city. In the distance, he could hear music; laughter and raucous voices rose up from the street below. Carnival was happening, a long way from Simon. He didn’t particularly mind. He breathed deeply, the cool night air clearing his head. As was his habit, he ran through the previous few hours’ work, checking his decisions and confirming he’d done everything right. He checked the time. He had a few hours to kill before he was expected back again. He yawned and ran his hands over his eyes. He was tired, as ever; more pressingly, he was also absolutely ravenous.
He went in search of the staff canteen, where he secured and then devoured a huge bowl of noodles. He sat back and closed his eyes. Suddenly, he was struck with an overwhelming desire to be at home, but when he tried to visualize where this might be, he found he couldn’t quite pin down the location exactly. He tried to imagine his apartment back in Capital City, but the place was getting hazy in his memory. For some reason, he kept on thinking about the little lights that Kaylee had hanging up in her cabin on Serenity.
Someone sat down opposite. Simon opened his eyes. It was Mayhew, nursing a plastic cup of plastic coffee. “Hey,” he said, “sorry to wake you.”
“I wasn’t asleep,” said Simon. “Just dozing. You know.”
“Yep,” said Mayhew. He had four little sachets of sugar in front of him. One by one, and very methodically, he opened them, tipping the contents of each into his coffee, and stirring vigorously. He took a deep swig. “Nice,” he said, “Instant diabetes. You know, you were really good earlier.”
Yes, thought Simon. I know. I’m a great doctor.
“I missed it completely,” said Mayhew. “But you know that.”
Simon wasn’t generally sympathetic with the mistakes of other doctors. You weren’t there to make mistakes, you were there to be excellent, at all times. But for some reason, his heart went out to Mayhew. “Well, you’re tired.”
“So are you.”
That was certainly true. “When you’re faced with something messy and obvious, it’s easy to miss something less messy and obvious,” he offered.
“Hmm, not just that,” said Mayhew.
“I’ve… I’ve been traveling round the Rim a while now. Sometimes thing happen unexpectedly, and often you’re the only doctor around…”
“I see,” said Mayhew. Simon, hyper-conscious these days that any attention could bring all kinds of problems, watched the other man carefully. He liked this man. He hated lying to him. But he would have to, if it was the only way to keep him—keep River—safe.
“Is there any chance,” said Mayhew, “that you could be persuaded to stay? I’d have a word with Kay—”
“Oh,” said Simon, caught completely off-guard. “Oh… I… I’m… I have to leave Bethel the day after tomorrow… I’m… I’m expected somewhere else.”
“Oh,” said Mayhew. “Well, that’s a shame. I think you’d fit in here.” He finished his coffee. “Gǒu shǐ,” he muttered. “This stuff is like horse piss.” He looked at Simon. “I’d say let’s go out for a drink, this being Carnival and all, but to be honest you look like a man who could do with a few hours’ sleep. I know I am.”
“I think you’re right,” said Simon.
Mayhew stood. He picked up his cup and flattened it in his hands, ready for the recycler. “See you in the morning.”
“Yes,” said Simon. “See you in the morning.” He waited until Mayhew had gone before standing up. More than anything, he wanted to see River and make sure that she was safe. Sleep could wait.
* * *
Mal, with Inara, Kaylee, and Anna Liu following close behind, strode into the cargo bay of his ship, ready now to start putting a plan (whatever that might be) into action to secure the release of the preacher and his corporal.
“Hey, sir.”
He looked up to see said corporal leaning on the gantry and pulled up short. “Zoë? What’re you doin’ back here lookin’ so cheerful? Someone pay the ransom while I was out?”
“Didn’t much like our accommodations, sir,” she said. “Shepherd and I thought we’d prefer to be back home. Hope that suits?”
“Fine by me,” said Mal. “Fine and dandy.” He took the metal steps two at a time and nodded at Book, who had come out to join her. “Much in the way of trouble?”
“Fair amount,” said the Shepherd. “They’ll be cleaning up a while yet.”
“Only just started with the trouble we’re sending Jacob Roberts’ way,” said Mal. He turned to introduce Anna Liu, who was standing behind him, looking at his two crewmembers with considerable interest. “This here’s Ms. Liu.”
“We’ve met already,” said Anna, and, seeing Mal’s puzzled expression, added, puckishly, “at the docks. Remember?”
“Oh yes,” said Mal. “Long story,” he said to Zoë and Book, “but Ms. Liu was the one stole the shipment from us this morning.”
“And that’s good because… why?” said Zoë. “My lungs still aching from that gas grenade got thrown about at the station—”
“I’m sorry about that,” said Anna.
“Ms. Liu here tells me that the Guild has been up to all kinds of mischief,” said Mal. “Worse’n that, seems they and Roberts are deep together in some real unpleasantness—”
“You mean trafficking girls,” said Book.
“Huh,” said Mal. “You’re well ahead, ain’t you, Shepherd?”
“I keep myself informed.” Book nodded at Anna. “Pleasure to meet you, ma’am, and I hope we’ll be able to help. You know, Mal, I don’t like finding myself party to criminal activities without my express permission. I’m assuming we’re intending to do something about this?”
“Some of us have been already,” said Anna, wryly.
“And seems our presence might have messed up the good work being done by Ms. Liu on this matter,” said Mal.
“Ah,” said Book. “Unfortunate. In which case, I hope we’re planning to make amends?” He looked at Mal. “A little penance never did anyone any harm, Captain.”
“Most times I’d disagree,” said Mal, “but not on this score.” He strode toward the dining room.
“Sir,” said Zoë, “You might want to prepare yourself—”
Mal halted, mid-step. “What? What now?”
“You know, Zoë,” said Book, “I think Mal should see this for himself.”
Mal, entering the dining room, was confronted with one of the more challenging sights of his life: Jayne, in blue velvet tuxedo, quaffing champagne, sitting in front of a whole heap of cash. “Hey, Mal,” said Jayne. “Made me a fortune.”
“River,” said Wash, “River has made herself a fortune.”
Kaylee, looking at Jayne, said, “Wǒ de mā…”
“Jayne,” said Inara. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you look so dashing.”
Jayne smiled at her, mostly with his teeth.
“This day,” said Mal, “is rapidly startin’ to count among one of my least favorites. Wash—I was gone couple of hours at most. What did y’all…” He waved his hands at the money, “…do?”
“I did nothing,” said Wash. “I want everybody to be quite clear on that score. All I did was try to make sure people kept out of trouble. I’m not saying that I was particularly successful in my task, but that’s what I tried to do.”
River hoved into view. She looked… She looked nice. Real nice. River stared at him. “I turned thoughts into money.”
“Yes, of course you did,” said Mal. “I’m no clearer to understandin’ how, why, when, whether or not I need to be angry—”
“Ain’t hard, Mal,” said Jayne. “Went out poor. Came home rich.”
“River came home rich,” said Wash. “I don’t know how many times I have to say this…”
“Weren’t just River—”
“Speaking of which,” said Mal, cutting through, “River, you’re lookin’ fine and I find myself wonderin’ whether I see a companion’s hand behind … whatever this all is?”
But Inara was laughing. “River, sweetie,” she said. “Did you have this in mind when you came to my shuttle?”
River looked only slightly penitent. “Had to look the part.” She really was dressed uncommonly nice, Mal thought, taking a proper look at her. Dressed how you might look if you were plannin’ a night on the town… Dots connected. Pennies dropped. “Did y’all hit the casinos?” he said. “Wash? I turned my back for ten minutes—”
“More like a couple of hours,” said Wash, as if this served somehow as a defense.
“Which one?” asked Anna. “Which casino?”
“We went to the ball,” said River, happily.
“She means the Golden Balloon,” said Wash and, when Anna began to laugh, he went on, “What? That mean something to you?”
“Tell me it’s owned by Jacob Roberts,” said Mal.
“No,” said Anna. “Unfortunately, not. The Golden Balloon has been in my family for four generations. My older brother runs the place.”
Book laughed out loud.
“Tian xiao de,” said Mal, “is there anyone on Bethel ain’t gonna be pissed with us by the end of today?”
“We should go, Mal,” said Jayne. “Get while the goin’s good. We got Zoë and the Shepherd back, ain’t we?”
“Simon’s not back,” said Kaylee.
“Soon,” murmured River.
“You say that like that’s a bad thing,” said Jayne.
“Your suit is worn at the elbows,” said River. “You should be patched.”
Jayne subsided. Mal, firmly, said, “We ain’t going nowhere. We’ve caused trouble for some good people,” he nodded at Anna, “and our services were bought under false pretenses. We’ll be settin’ all that straight before we think of headin’ off anywhere, dǒng ma?”
“Also,” said Kaylee. “Simon’s not back.”
“Heard you the first time,” said Jayne. “Still not seein’ the problem there—”
“That’s enough,” said Mal. “We got comp’ny,” he nodded at Anna, “and seems to me the least we can do is offer her some champagne. Her brother paid for it, after all.”
This was met with general agreement. A bottle was shaken, by Book, with much brio, and big cheers rose up when the cork popped. They poured the champagne out into chipped mugs. They toasted River. They toasted Jayne’s suit. They toasted Anna’s brother. They were trying to think of something else to toast when Simon walked in. He glanced round the room, taking in everyone present, his gaze coming to rest on the open champagne bottles and the nuts strewn around the table. He threw his jacket across the back of the nearest chair. “I hate every single one of you,” he said. “Not you, River…” He peered at her. “Mèi mèi, what… what are you wearing?” He looked at the open case. “What exactly has been going on?”
* * *
Someone (Simon was pretty sure that it was Book) pushed him into a chair. Everyone, he saw, literally everyone was back on-board ship, which meant that spending the whole day working under a false identity was, presumably, rendered entirely moot, and also while he’d been up to his elbows in guts, people here seemed to have been drinking champagne, and there was someone here that he didn’t even recognize…
“Hi,” she said, waving from down the table. “I’m Anna. I’m a friend of Kay Neilsen. Are you the doctor she hired for the weekend? The one she studied with?”
“Yes,” said Simon, struggling to find his manners. “It’s… very nice to meet you… Look,” he said to his immediate colleagues, “I’m sorry, but I’m tired, and there are champagne bottles open and while it’s nice to see you both safe and, you know, alive, I’m not sure why Zoë and Book are here, exactly—”
“Don’t spoil the party, doc,” said Jayne. “We’re tryna celebrate.”
River handed him a mug which turned out to contain champagne. “Is it champagne,” she said, “if it doesn’t come from Earth-that-was?”
Plaintively, Simon said, “I am too tired for this. I’ve just come from theater—”
“You’ve been at the theater?” Jayne scoffed. “Thought you was supposed to be workin’—”
“There was a gunshot wound,” Simon said. “To the left thigh.”
“Ah,” said Book, his interest piqued.
“He also had a punctured lung,” said Simon. “Which I spotted. Which I operated on. Which probably saved his life.”
“Ah,” said Book, more thoughtfully.
Simon tried the champagne. It was slightly flat. He put the mug down and someone (definitely Book this time), put a hot cup of tea into his hands, and a packet of peanuts on the table next to him. “It’s possible,” said Book, with a suspicious note of apology in his voice, “that Zoë and I have a little insider information on those particular wounds.”
“You’re the one takin’ the rap for that, preacher,” said Zoë. “I only did the driving.”
“I’m not actually sure that’s a defense, Zoë,” said Book. “Particularly as we stole the car. But then I do doubt any of it’ll be coming to a court of law.”
“There was shootin’?” said Jayne, with considerable disappointment. “And car-jackin’? You went shooting people and stealin’ cars without me?”
“You seem to have made quite the evening of it anyway,” said Book. “And if it’s any consolation, the action was over very quickly. Although it was quite… flashy.”
“It was a very professional operation,” said Zoë.
“I know all about those,” Simon mumbled into his tea. He’d saved someone’s life tonight. Who cared? Nobody here, that was for sure.
“No room for amateurs, Jayne,” said Wash. “Not when Zoë’s there.”
“I don’t know how you’re insultin’ me, little man,” growled Jayne, “but I know you are, and I ain’t happy about that—”
“Leave it to my wife,” said Wash. “The professional.”
“And the preacher,” said Zoë.
“And the preacher,” said Wash, happily. “Who is also wholly professional. Not to mention a ‘holy’ professional…” He performed the scare quotes. His colleagues looked back at him, unforgivingly. He reached for the champagne bottle and filled up his mug again. “I am not appreciated here.”
“I appreciate you, honey,” said Zoë. “But you can quit talkin’ now.”
Simon (having by now drunk a mug of champagne, most of a cup of tea, and eaten some nuts) was starting to rally slightly. “Is there an explanation? For champagne? I’m guessing it has something to do with… the very large amount of money in the suitcase on the table in front of me? Also, I have questions about why are Book and Zoë back here? Did the ransom get paid?”
Book said, “In a manner of speaking.”
“Yes,” said Mal. “No. No.” He looked around. “Where are we on that right now? Does anyone know?”
“I’ve made fifty platinum so far,” said Simon. “Do we even need this money now?”
“No,” said pretty much everyone.
“Good,” said Simon. “I’m quitting medicine. I’m going to retire.”
“No, you won’t, Simon,” River said, with great confidence. And obviously she was right, because he loved being in surgery and he would even turn up for his next shift at St. Freda’s because they were short of staff and he wouldn’t let them down. Simon stared helplessly at the case. “Where has all this money come from anyway?”
