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“I can,” Kaylee said.

“Sorry, Kaylee, but we need you here,” Zoë said brusquely. “Inara will go with you, Simon. Now go wake up your sister.”

“She isn’t in her bunk. I was going to look for her.”

“Okay. Be quick about it, then get to the shuttle. Inara will meet you there.”

“But what if they come after us?” Simon said.

“Try to stay calm,” Kaylee urged, putting her hand on his forearm. “I know it’s hard not to be real scared.”

“I’m not afraid for myself. I’m afraid for River. What they’ll do to her.”

“We have to make sure they don’t have a chance to,” Zoë said. “Let’s move it.”

“Yes. Yes, all right.” Simon faced Kaylee. She was gazing at him with wide eyes, as if she were memorizing him.

As if she thought she might never see him again.

“You’re gonna be safe,” she said, bobbing her head and smiling through what were clearly tears. “And we’re gonna find the captain and… and…” She trailed off, struggling. She balled her fists and bit her lower lip, falling into silence.

“And it’s going to be fine,” Simon finished for her.

“Not unless you get in that shuttle now.”

Simon leaned towards Kaylee with the intention of kissing her goodbye. But Zoë was there, and Kaylee was… He didn’t know why his courage failed him. He rushed past her, into the dining room.

Mèi mèi?” he called softly, as if the Alliance could hear him. “Where are you?”

She wasn’t there, either, or in the galley. Cursing under his breath, Simon hurried back down the hallway, checking the cabins on either side for River as he went. His sister had a habit of disappearing — or losing her tether — at the most inconvenient times. It came on like contrarian clockwork.

The voice coming from Jayne’s cabin gave him a rush of hope. The way Jayne was holding court, Simon was sure there was someone else in the room. When he stuck his head through the open doorway, he realized that wasn’t the case at all. Jayne had been talking to Vera as he cleaned her barrel with a flexible ramrod and a bit of oily rag, in a tender voice telling her what a good and proper girl she was. From his seat on the rumpled bunk, Jayne shot Simon a sour look.

And he thinks River’s crazy.

Simon moved on without explaining the problem or attempting to enlist Jayne’s aid. He had learned the hard way that Jayne Cobb needed a lot of explaining to in order to get the big picture — or any picture, even a sketch — and Simon didn’t have time to spare for the snail-crawling Socratic dialogue, the circular questions and angry accusations that were the meat and potatoes of Jayne’s conversational repertoire.

He found Zoë and Kaylee in the same spot he’d left them. Both looked surprised to see him.

“No idea where she’s got to,” he informed them, somewhat out of breath. “I looked in the other cabins on the way back here. She isn’t on this deck. She’s just gone!”

“Maybe she telepathed that you were going to leave in the shuttle?” Kaylee said, her expression dead serious. “You know, with her tested certified genius brain. Maybe she’s up there now, waiting for you?”

Zoë gave her a disbelieving look. “Simon, use the ship’s intercom,” she said. “Tell River to meet you at the shuttle. Hurry her up but don’t scare her too much. You know how to do it. Kaylee, you go check the shuttle to see if she’s already there. If she’s not, stay there and wait for her. Simon and I will search down in the cargo area.”

“River, this is your brother,” Simon said into the intercom microphone. His voice boomed out of the speakers scattered throughout the ship. He tried to sound calm, reasoned, not frantic and about to blow a gasket. “If you can hear me, we have a situation right now. Nothing to worry about. Just get to Inara’s shuttle. I’ll meet you there. We’ve got to leave Serenity. We’re going on a little trip, is all.”

There were a thousand places to hide on the ship. Places that without an infrared scanner — something an Alliance boarding party would certainly have on hand — would be difficult and time-consuming to check. River might be anywhere: ceiling ducts, gear lockers, any number of crawlspaces. She even could’ve climbed into a space suit and slipped out into the Black, for all they knew.

Simon and Zoë headed aft, going through the storage area, bypassing the cargo bay. Their searches of the infirmary and the engine room turned up no trace of her. Simon hated the queasy fear churning in his stomach, the ever-tightening pursing of Zoë’s lips as they came up empty everywhere they looked.

“Zoë, Alliance is nearly here,” Wash reported. “Why hasn’t the shuttle detached?”

Then Kaylee’s voice shrilled through the comm unit. “I’m in the shuttle with Inara and River’s still not here.”

“Roger that,” Zoë said. “Wash?”

He let forth with a string of epithets. “You need to hustle, my friends. Proximity scanner’s lit up like Christmas, Hanukkah, Diwali, and Kwanzaa all rolled into one. Ship’s ident is the I.A.V. Stormfront. Longbow-class mid-range patrol cruiser. More armament than a porcupine’s got quills.”

Simon blinked. “Zoë. The crates. She was playing the flute to the crates before. Maybe she’s there again.”

Zoë about-faced and began to run-limp in the direction of the cargo bay. She said through her comm link, “Inara, are you prepped for launch?”

“Yes. Standing by to uncouple,” Inara said.

“We can’t leave her here. We can’t,” Simon pleaded as he scooted around Zoë because he could move faster.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” she snapped.

Simon’s mind was racing ahead, kaleidoscoping with unsettling what-ifs. What if they couldn’t find River? What if the Alliance got there first? What if they found her hiding place but it was too late to escape into the Black without being noticed? There was no way a shuttle could outrun an Alliance cruiser or its ferocious armament. If they didn’t get off Serenity in time, they would get off her in chains and at gunpoint. And so much for saving his beloved sister.

He and Zoë rushed out into the ship’s dim, sprawling hold. Zoë hit the ceiling lights and the gray metal deck stretched out below them. The cargo bay seemed close to empty. Even so, there were lots of places to hide in and around the perimeter.

“There she is,” Zoë said, pointing.

Simon didn’t see her at first. He scanned each crate in turn. “Where? Where?”

Zoë pointed. River had prostrated herself on the lid of one of the crates, her arms spread out, clutching it like a life raft on a storm-tossed sea. Simon could hear her babbling away softly to the contents.

“Let’s go get her quick.”

Simon hurried after her, catching up as she crossed the deck.

“Hush, little high-ex, don’t say a word,” River crooned to the crate’s contents, her voice breaking with emotion. “Papa’s gonna stop you and your crazy whirl.”

“River?”

She looked up at him, wild-eyed and a little tearful, and said, “They’re coming.”

“Yes,” Simon said. “So we have to go.”

She sniffled. “If they open the crate, everyone will die.”

“They will?” he said. Beside him, Zoë grunted.

She nodded. “It’s all busy.” She flicked her fingers, imitating fireworks.

“What are you talking about?” Zoë said.

“Getting hot,” she said. “Getting busy.”

Zoë and Simon shared a glance. “We’ll look into it,” she said.

“Die,” River moaned.

“They won’t open the crates,” Zoë said.

“River, you and I have to leave now,” Simon said. “You have to come with me.” He took her hand and helped her off the crate. She didn’t resist. She seemed drained; her eyes had lost their luster.