Firefly--Carnival Read online

  “At least it’s not criminal,” remarked Book. “I gather that the casinos are only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the local economy.”

  “Just the very upper tip of that iceberg of interest to us today, preacher,” said Zoë.

  “Still,” said Book, “might be wise to bear in mind that there will be others in Neapolis with designs very different from our own.”

  “Hence the job,” said Mal. “Watch that shipment when it arrives at the train depot; make sure it gets over to the docks before the party starts. Nobody else to get near it; nobody else to get their hands on it.”

  “Why us?” said Wash. “Is there no one else in the whole of Neapolis willing to take on a job like this? Why’s it come up on the Cortex?”

  “Good question,” said Mal. “Right now, as I suspect you all know, that fine city is the cusp of its busiest few days of the year. Big party happenin’ in Neapolis this week. Everyone who could do this job is either workin’ already or plannin’ on misbehavin’.”

  CULTURE: Bethel is chiefly known for the celebrations that takes place in Neapolis over the weekend of the spring equinox. These events, which are centered on the part of the city known as the ‘Platinum Mile’…

  “Oh,” said Simon, as several things clicked into place. “Carnival.”

  His colleagues gave a small and not remotely complimentary round of applause.

  “You’re catchin’ up, Doc,” said Mal.

  “Sounds fun, don’t it?” said Kaylee, hopefully.

  Simon, picturing the alcohol-related injuries that inevitably ensued, thought that it sounded like hell. “For some definitions of fun,” he said, before he could stop himself. Kaylee’s sweet smile faded away and, from the doorway, Inara frowned at him and her shook her head. Why am I such a jerk? Was I always such a jerk and nobody told me?

  “Ain’t no fun to be had by anyone on board this ship until the job’s been done,” Mal said sternly. “Me and Zoë—you too, Jayne—we’re to get this cargo safely from the rail depot over to the spaceport, on board the freighter, and make sure that nobody with differing designs for the shipment gets near it.”

  “Sounds easy enough,” said Jayne. He was digging pieces of apple out from between his teeth with the tip of the knife.

  “Ain’t ever easy,” said Mal. “You know, I could do with a fourth body on this ride… Wash?”

  “Um,” said Wash, “when you say ‘body’…”

  “Wasn’t meant to be taken literally,” said Mal.

  “But it’s out there now,” said Wash. “The idea of it. Literally and very unappealingly out there—”

  “Maybe the doc’ll come along,” said Jayne, wiping the knife clean on his shirt. “Show us what he’s made of.”

  “Maybe I won’t,” Simon snapped back.

  The room went very quiet.

  “Is it me,” said Wash, “or has it gone chilly in here?”

  “Whatever.” Jayne snapped his knife closed and put it away. “Not like you’d be any ruttin’ use anyways.”

  No, he wasn’t forgetting that Simon could paralyze him. That River could… well, who knew, really, what River could do? And all of that meant that the balance of power between them had shifted significantly. Did anyone else on Serenity know why? Did anyone else know that Jayne had called the Feds on them on Ariel? What would Mal do, if he knew? Simon had worked out pretty quickly that there was no point running to Mal with his troubles. This was something he had to learn to deal with himself; it was part of what his life was now. This sullen ceasefire with Jayne would hold, for a while, but Simon wasn’t banking on it lasting, and he wasn’t sure yet what he was supposed do should the violence break out again. Just hope it wasn’t fatal—for him, and for River.

  Shepherd Book was looking at him thoughtfully. Simon stuffed the encyclopedia back into his pocket, pulled out a pen and paper, and began to make a list of what he needed for the infirmary, Listing things was soothing. I just need the ’verse to stop throwing curveballs at me for a while, he thought. Let me get my bearings… They were short of bandages. They were always short of bandages. Simon half suspected Jayne of eating them.

  “You know,” said Mal, “the doc’s not so useless these days. He might well come in handy—”

  Book leaned forward in his seat, putting himself between Simon and Mal’s sights. Simon kept his eyes down on his list. “I think I’ll come along too if you’re willing, Captain.”

  “You sure about that, Shepherd?” said Mal. “There’ll be guns.”

  “But no need to be firing them as I see it,” said Book. “Always happy to lend a hand if necessary.”

  “Den of vice, huh, Shepherd?” said Jayne.

  “House of God,” said Book, unperturbed.

  “And there’s my fourth man,” said Mal, cheerfully. “Wash, you and the doc are off the hook.”

  Book leaned back in his seat. “Thank you,” murmured Simon, who appreciated the small kindnesses even more these days.

  “You’re welcome,” said Book. “Might be a good idea to get some sleep while we’re gone, though.”

  I plan to, thought Simon, and carried on writing. And maybe, when I wake up, I’ll be back on Osiris and this long and truly appalling nightmare will finally be over…

  On the other side of the table, Kaylee sighed.

  “All right,” said Mal. “Me, Zoë, Jayne, Book—we got a meeting with this man Roberts in a few hours. Everyone else, once we’re down, you’re to stay on board Serenity—”

  “Oh, Captain,” said Kaylee.

  “The job should be done by the mid-afternoon,” said Mal, “after which—”

  “Whorin’,” said Jayne, a man confident in his predictive abilities.

  “After which—” Mal ignored the interruption, “I might consider the possibility of a little recreation time.”

  Kaylee’s smile lit up. “Shiny,” she said, much mollified.

  “Come to my shuttle, Kaylee,” said Inara. “We’ll take a look at your nails before you go out.”

  “And while you’re busy with such life-and-death activities,” said Mal (I’m not, thought Simon, seeing Inara’s expression, the only jerk round here), “we’ll be off to make an honest livin’.”

  “I suppose honest makes a change,” shot back Inara.

  “Good enough for me,” said Mal.

  As the captain walked past, Simon reached back and handed him his list. “That’s what I need,” he said. “When you’re paid. If you’re paid.”

  “Huh.” Mal stared down at what he’d written. “Anyone ever told you, doc, that your sarcasm is your least appealin’ trait?”

  “Oh, it’s the sarcasm, is it?” said Simon. “I was under the impression that it was everything in combination.”

  Mal patted him on the shoulder. He beamed across the table. “Don’t frown, Kaylee,” he said. “Party later..”

  He went on his way, whistling, leaving Kaylee and Simon in the now blissfully quiet dining room. “How I miss the grown-ups,” said Simon, “when they go out to play.”

  Kaylee smiled at him. Simon managed a smile back.

  “Bed?” said Kaylee.

  I can’t cope with much more of this, thought Simon. “Kaylee… I…”

  “Simon,” she said, “I mean—you should probably go to bed. Alone. To sleep.”

  “Oh. Yes. Of course. Bed.”

  He stood up. From along the corridor, a voice called out, a girl’s voice, with a rising note of terror. “Siiiimonnn….? Simon!”

  “Oh Simon!” said Kaylee. “I’m sorry!”

  “Of course,” said Simon, heading off at pace toward the engine room. “Of course this happens now.”

  * * *

  Ava woke to the clatter of the market coming back to life. She sat up, cold and stiff, rubbing life back into her hands, trying to ignore the sharp pangs of hunger in her belly. She fumbled around for the owl mask, only to find she’d rolled onto it during the night, and it was broken into pieces. Tears spra
ng to her eyes. Sure, it was a piece of market stall junk, but she’d liked it and it had helped take care of her. She shook herself, hard, ’cause tears weren’t gonna help her, and shoved the broken pieces into her pocket. She wriggled out of her hiding place and came round to look at the shrine. Her candle was still burning, more or less, but the flame and the lights hanging in the trees looked washed out and sickly. Reaching out, she touched the little statue of the Buddha and thanked him for keeping watch over her all night. Even as she did so, she laughed at herself. Silly of her. Aunty Eve had tried to warn her about having a sentimental streak. Wishin’s all very well, Ava, but wishin’ won’t help in need. You got to be doin’.

  “All right, Aunty Eve,” she mumbled. “Better get doin’.”

  Ava took stock of her situation. Early morning. Dawn light trickling between the buildings. Later, when the sun was higher, it would be warmer, a nice spring day, but right now there was a chill to the air. Ava could cope. Evansville was freezin’ in the winter months, and Uncle Nate wasn’t so good at makin’ sure there was wood or coal for the fire. Yes, she’d cope, and now all she had to do was make it to mid-morning, make the call, and surely then these people, whoever they were, would help her, somehow?

  There was a baker’s stall across from the shrine, opening up for breakfast. The smell of fresh bread was tantalizing. Ava walked over and, catching the stallholder’s eye, said, “Excuse me, ma’am, can you tell me the time, please?”

  “It’s little after six thirty, honey.”

  Ava sighed. Hours to kill. “Thank you,” she said, and turned away.

  “You don’t want anything, honey? It’s all freshly baked.”

  Ava held out her hands. No money.

  “No cash, hey?” The woman looked round. “Who’s you with, honey? You seem a little young to be out on your own at this time of day. Where’s your ma and pa?”

  Ava shrugged. She shoved her hands in her pockets and moved on, trying to think where she could go. Maybe back to the park? Would they mind if she sat there until it was time to make the call? Found out whether there really was someone out there who could help…

  “Hey, wait!”

  Ava turned to see the baker running toward her. She stopped to shove a pastry into Ava’s hands. “That should keep you goin’ a while,” she said. “You in town by yourself, honey?”

  Ava nodded.

  “You got a place to go?”

  Ava half-shrugged, half-nodded. “Maybe.”

  “Well, you keep your head down till you’re fixed, d’you understand? And listen,” she leaned in. “Keep away from the sheriff’s men. Some of them—they ain’t good, and they’re particularly no good for girls like you. You got that? Don’t ask for help from anyone like that, because you can’t tell the good ones from bad, and the bad ones won’t be helpin’. They’ll be hurtin’. Got that?”

  Don’t ask for help…

  Ava nodded and went on her way. She walked slowly down the street, past the vidphone, and to the park. When the security guard arrived to open up, he recognized her at once. “Back again, huh? You’re keen.”

  “I like it here.”

  “Seems so. Band’ll be comin’ on at nine,” he said, then, seeing her face, went on, “Cheer up! It’s the first day of Carnival!”

  Ava tried to follow his instructions, but there wasn’t much fun to be had watching other people enjoy themselves, and the band were playing songs that reminded her of Aunty Eve, and that made her feel worse. She was glad when the time came to make the call. She left the park and went back to the vidphone. She watched the Joozy Frooty Bunny and even started to hum along with the tune. When that finished, and the display came up, she put the card into the slot, like she’d done the day before, and touched the screen to call the new contact. Connecting… Connecting…

  “It’s Ava,” she said, when the lights stopped flashing. “I was told to call, after ten—”

  A voice came through. No face, again. “There’s an address put on your card. Look it up on the map when we’re done. You need to get there by three this afternoon, and no later than three-thirty. Got that?”

  “Yes, ma’am, I got—”

  The call disconnected. Ava found the new contact. Mag Coirc Motel and Bar, Celestial Way. She touched the words and a map popped up on screen. Right by Roby Docks, where the spaceships berthed. Looked like a long walk… She took the card out of the slot and walked back to the market. The baker, seeing her approach, gave her a warm smile.

  “Hello again, honey!” she said. “You all right? How was that pastry?”

  “It was grand, ma’am, thank you. Much appreciated.”

  “You need something else?”

  “I need to ask my way, if you can help. I’m to meet a friend over by the docks—”

  “The docks?”

  “Where the spaceships come in.”

  “I know the docks, honey. But are you sure? It’s not very nice over there.”

  “I’ll be okay,” said Ava. “How quick can I get there?”

  “Quickest way’s by tram, but…”

  But Ava didn’t have money for the tram. “And walkin’?”

  “Walkin’?” The woman sighed. “You sure this is a good idea, honey?”

  “I’m sure. She’s a family friend. Friend of my Aunty Eve.” Which wasn’t quite a lie, when you thought about it, and mentioning family seemed to make the baker happier about sending this girl off by herself.

  “Walkin’ll take you a couple of hours, maybe a little more. It’s a long way!”

  Ava nodded. That was enough time. “It’ll be fine,” she said. “Thank you very much, ma’am, for all your help.”

  “Wait a moment,” said the woman. She went round the stall and then came back with a paper bag, which she shoved into Ava’s hands. “Something for the journey,” she said. “You take care, now.”

  Ava, a lump in her throat, couldn’t reply. She went on her way. From the bag rose up the warm scent of bread.

  * * *

  Neapolis stood at the mouth of a mean little river that crawled north through almost the whole of Bethel’s main continent. Dotted along that river like junk stones on a cheap necklace lay the mining towns. Mal could see those places in his mind’s eye: poor old dusty places; everyone there with a hacking cough, right down to the smallest kids. Kind of place you ran a mile from, should the chance ever arise. No life for anyone there, just hard work, company rules, and most likely a preacher man telling you that you should be glad for the little you got. Not that Jacob Roberts would be spending much of his time in towns like that. No sir, Jacob Roberts was a rich man—fancy, as Kaylee might say—who clearly liked the best of everything.

  Look at this room now, Jacob Roberts’ office. Six stories up on a big steel building that lay at one end of the Platinum Mile. A corner room with two walls made completely of reinforced glass. Mal would bet the last of his own platinum that Jacob Roberts often stood here to look out across his kingdom and think about what a mighty fine man he was, with the best of everything, top of the world. But out of the corner of your eye, you could still see the desert, hard and red and unforgiving.

  “Not the prettiest of planets, is it, sir?” said Zoë, her voice low.

  “What makes you say that?” said Mal.

  “Surface all painted, but when you look closer, you see the chips and marks. All done on the cheap.”

  “Yes, well, we’re not here to admire the architecture, Zoë—”

  “I know I’m not,” said Jayne.

  “Close your jaws, Jayne,” said Mal. “And keep ’em closed.”

  Zoë wasn’t wrong though. Mal had noticed the same, coming through the city. Bethel’s location had, by good fortune, put it safely away from the war between the Alliance and the Independents. The residents had used this position, far away enough to avoid the main fighting, but close enough to play both sides to their advantage. Made promises to everyone; even kept some of them. There were many here that made a lot of plat
inum during the war. Could you fault them for making the best of a bad situation? Mal Reynolds did. Now those fine upstanding citizens of Bethel wanted to enjoy the benefits of being a Core world: comfort, security, shiny offices, and not much thought for any suffering that might have been caused along the way.

  Take a look at this room now. Great big desk, made of chrome and steel. Empty, except for a state-of-the-art console. Mal didn’t meet too many men as fancy as this one, but when he did, he was always struck by how empty their desks were. They had people to fret the details, of course. Just had to sit around—look at that black leather chair. You could sink right into that and shout out a few orders and people would jump and do whatever you told ’em. There was a lot of leather in this room, Mal thought. The Shepherd was standing over by an ostentatious bookcase next to the door, stuffed full of volumes bound in the stuff. A lot of cows had given up their lives so that Jacob Roberts could look like a learned man.

  “Hmm,” said the Shepherd, closing the book he was holding, slotting it carefully back into place. He came to stand with Mal and Zoë, admiring the view, taking in everything around him. Whatever this man had been in the past, Mal thought, he weren’t always a preacher. He moved like a soldier, but smooth, like a well-kept machine. Still, Mal was glad he’d offered to come along for this ride. No way he would have dragged the doc along on this jaunt, for all Jayne’s goading. For one thing, the boy was dead on his feet. For another, he would have been less use than a paper hat in a foxhole. Still no harm in tweaking him; keep him on his toes. Boy had to learn to live in this world he’d chose. Worse people than Jayne after him… Mal’s eyes flicked over to Jayne, prowling around near a flashy display of whisky bottles. Had the doc worked out yet what Jayne had done back there on Ariel? Mal wasn’t tellin’, that was for sure; it was all over and done with as far as he was concerned. Maybe the doc would have his own opinions on that, should matters ever come to light. Yet another complication from bringin’ those two on board.