My Own Kind of Freedom

Chapter 10 My Own Kind of Courage

“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.

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.”

“And 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.

“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.”

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.”

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.

“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 was 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.”

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.”

Jayne cleared his throat. “I know Zoë carries a backup piece under her arm. If you could maybe—”

“Jayne, I’m getting to you. In the meantime, your job is to create as large a field of silence around you as you can manage. Is the idea coming through?”

Jayne scowled loudly.

“So, what now, sir?”

“I don’t know. My boat has a hole in it, and we’re stuck on the gorram world I hate the most, where we’ve just busted a fugitive out of jail after saving the life of an Alliance agent, and I’m trying to resist the temptation to put a hole in the fugitive we’ve just rescued.”

“What did I—”

“So I’m open to suggestions, Zoë.”

“I suggest you answer Jayne’s question, sir.”

“Answer his question?”

“He was asking what he did.”

“That’s what I’d like to know,” said Mal.

“Exactly,” said Zoë.

“Oh. Right.” He turned to Jayne. “What did you do?”

“Huh? I didn’t do a ruttin’ thing! I got a little drunk and clocked a loudmouth—”

“No, Jayne. I’m not talking about last night.”

“Then what are you… oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

“You kicked me off your gorram ship! I wasn’t on your gorram crew!”

“So you couldn’t wait to find out what you could get for River’s scalp.”

“So?”

Oddly, Mal realized he was not suddenly taken with the urge to kill Jayne. He was suddenly taken with the urge to shoot Jayne in both kneecaps, let him lie there for a while, then kill him.

“All right,” he said, keeping his voice even—which required more effort than he’d used in several near-run skirmishes. “We’ll get into that later. Right now, I want to know what happened.”

“Huh? You know what happened. I called the feds on that wangu de shagua gen ta shenjingbing de meimei. What else do you need to know?”

“How did you call them?”

“Huh? I got hold of a comm unit—”

“What comm unit? Where?”

“In that same gorram security hut you just busted me out of.”

“They have a direct link?”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

“I thought they were a private security force.”

“They are, and they’re also the Locals.”

“That’s right, so they are. All right, what happened?”

“How ’bout we talk about how I didn’t do nothing wrong, seeing I wasn’t on—”

Jayne broke off as Mal drew his pistol and leveled it at Jayne’s face from a distance of around three inches. Mal heard the familiar sound of Zoë’s carbine coming from her hip, and knew he was covered.

“There are a number of things going on right now, Jayne, and I need to learn what they are, and so I need you to answer questions. The only thing I want to do less than talk about anything else is explain to you why I need those answers. So you’re going to tell me what I want to know, or I am going to start putting holes in you, and I’m not too particular about where they are, or how many. Now do we have a meeting of minds on this subject?”

Jayne glowered. Mal waited.

“You keep saying what happened, and I keep telling you. So—”

“So tell me how it played out.”

“I walked in, said I wanted to get a message to the feds. They set up the link—”

“Just like that?”

“I had to do some convincing.”

“How did you convince them?”

“I asked them how it would go down with them if they didn’t let me.”

“All right. Then what?”

“They gave me the mic. I told the Feds about the crazy girl.”

“Uh huh. And what did they say?”

“We negotiated.”

“They wanted the details?”

“Yeah. I said I wanted money first.”

“Did you tell them who she was?”

Jayne barely hesitated. “Yeah.”

“And?”

“They said they’d have someone there to meet me and we’d agree on a price.”

“When?”

“They said an hour.”

“Right,” said Mal. Yeah, okay. No way there was a fed station that close. And if they wanted to send someone special, it might be days. So they’d grabbed up the nearest agent, knocked him off whatever assignment he was on, and—

“And all this time, what were the security officers doing?”

“Huh?”

“While you were talking to the feds, where were the officers, or the Locals, who set you up with the connection?”

“What do you mean? They were just sitting there.”

“Just sitting there.”

“Yeah.”

“Listening.”

“I suppose they might have been.”

Mal sighed. “You know, Jayne, you’ve done some stupid things from time to time.”

“Maybe.”

“I think this time you pegged the meter.”

“What the—”

Zoë spoke for the first time. “Sir, could they have put it together, got word to Sakarya, and set it up that fast?”

“In an hour? Why not? This isn’t the Alliance, this is just one guy running things himself. And he’s someone who believes in moving fast.”

“Yes, sir. That he is.”

Jayne said, “What in the—”

“Shut up,” said Mal.

“Now what, sir?”

“I don’t know. Now we try to not get caught until we can figure a way out of here.”

“What about him?” she gestured toward Jayne.

“We could kill him.”

“Hey!” said Jayne.

“Yes, sir. Or just shoot him in the leg and let him get caught.”

“Maybe there’s a reward.”

“If that’s a joke,” said Jayne, “I ain’t laughing none.”

“And what if it isn’t a joke? Then you gonna laugh?”

Jayne stared at him. “You gonna do me, go ahead and do me. Quit yakking.”

“I gotta figure some. You got any special reason why I ought to let you live, Jayne?”

“I didn’t mention you or the boat.”

“When?”

“When they questioned me. They said they’d drop the charges and let me go if I told them everything.”

Mal searched the big man’s face. As well as being stupid, Jayne was one of the worst liars he’d ever met. This time, oddly enough, he wasn’t lying.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Hell, I don’t know. I just didn’t.”

Zoë said, “Sir, I’m hearing a buzzboat.”

Mal glanced up. “Yeah, okay. Let’s find some cover.”

Zoë said, “Sir, if they have infrared—”

“Unlikely. Too much bounce from this topsoil during daylight.”

“But if they do—”

“Then we’re humped. Let’s go.”

“What about him?”

“He comes with us for now.”

“I don’t think you can take the chance with him, sir.”

“Sure I can. Let’s try this way.”

Jayne followed Mal, keenly aware of Zoë and her sawed-off behind him the whole time. He didn’t feel any special resentment for Zoë’s being so determined to kill him; he knew well enough it’s what he would have done. He wasn’t sure why the Captain hadn’t just done it, but he never did quite know what the Captain would or wouldn’t do, or why. He knew the Captain had some sort of code he kept to; but he had never been able to figure out what that code was. It made things gorram confusing. And it was impossible to figure out how to use that code against him.

So he followed Mal toward cover, and tried to forget about the weapon behind him. If he had the chance, he’d turn on Zoë, take out Mal, and—

No, in fact, he wouldn’t.

He wasn’t sure why, but he wouldn’t. He’d go along with them, and try to get out of this with them, and if they killed him, that’s just how it came out.

He wasn’t exactly sure why he made that decision, but neither did he spend much time trying to figure it out.

They found a tree with a particularly thick covering of branches, and ducked under it.