Firefly coup de grace, p.19
Firefly--Coup de Grâce, page 19
“You coulda left us alone,” said Kaylee. “Let us get on with things.”
“You’re makin’ a mess of things is what you’re doin’.”
“Not keen on us bringin’ Isaac Roberts’ killer to justice, huh?”
“What?” McQuinn fell back in her seat. “Miss Frye, I don’t know what impression you’ve picked up or where, but me and Isaac Roberts were friends. Sure, he was on the wrong side during the war, but you can’t hold that against a fella forever, and not when he’s on the side of the angels now. Him and me knew there was somethin’ goin’ on here, funds from the Core assistin’ all kinds of malfeasance. And when he was shot dead…”
If Wash wasn’t mistaken, tears had sprung to her eyes.
“When he was shot dead, I sent for someone from the Core to come and deal with them killers, and next thing I know Annie Roberts has it in her head to bring you lot in, with no clue as to how tense things are around here, and now the whole city’s on a knife edge and me and Sheriff Peters ain’t sure we got enough people to keep things calm… Hell, I should deputize the pair of you!”
“Oh,” said Kaylee. “I guess… I apologize too?”
“Well, so you should, the whole sorry lot of you should be apologizin’. And now Annie Roberts is nowhere to be found—”
“We know where she is,” said Wash. “Well, we don’t know where she is, not right this second, but we know who she’s with.”
“Your Captain Reynolds, presumably, and chasin’ up and down the backcountry tryna find Young Bill Fincher.”
There was a knock at the door and one of her aides looked in. “Ma’am,” she said. “Someone here to speak to you.”
“One more minute,” said McQuinn. She looked at Kaylee and Wash. “Gŏu shĭ,” she said, “if this city isn’t on fire within a couple of hours, it’ll be luck and hope holdin’ the place together. You and your crew—you’ve been nothing more than a fatal distraction.”
Kaylee and Wash looked guiltily at each other. And then: “You know,” said Kaylee. “I think we might be able to help with that.”
“Help? What, you two? We gonna blind ’em with this fella’s shirt?”
“There’s no need for everyone to keep on being be rude about my shirt,” said Wash. “I like my shirt—”
“No,” said Kaylee. “Not us. But how do you feel about speakin’ to the people who’ve been causin’ all this disruption? I mean, the ones that decided to pull the plug on the power and the lights and Cortex and so on.”
“Um, Kaylee,” said Wash, “I’m not sure that the mayor can negotiate with the people who are more or less holding a gun to her head?”
“They’re not the ones holdin’ the gun, Wash. They’re… leaning on the off switch for a while.”
“That’s maybe splitting hairs slightly?”
“Mr Washburne,” said the mayor. “How about you let me decide for myself?”
“Oh,” said Wash. “Yeah. Of course.” He mimed zipping his lips. “I’ll shut up now, shall I?”
“If you could, for a moment or two,” said McQuinn. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at Kaylee. “Your friend here’s right though. Why should I talk to these fellas? Look at the trouble they’re causin’ this city. A place that’s as much mine these days— mine and my constituency—as it is theirs. Why should I trust ’em?”
The door opened again. “Ma’am,” said the aide. “Got someone here wants to speak to you urgent.”
“One more minute!”
The door closed. Kaylee, taking a deep breath, said, “Cuts both ways, you know. Them fellas, they think you’re sellin’ ’em out.”
“Sellin’ ’em out?”
“Say you’re in bed with Rising Sun, tryna bring in private contractors, cut their wages. Jobs for the farmers and not for them—”
McQuinn was shaking her head. “It ain’t like that—”
“No? Well, you need to start making that clear, Missus Mayor, because as far as the city workers are concerned, the signals you’re sending out are quite the opposite.”
McQuinn ran her hand through her hair. Sat in thought for a moment or two. Wash glanced at Kaylee, who gave him a tentative smile back. Simon Tam, thought Wash, you are an idiot.
“You know these people, do you?” said McQuinn, at last. “Friends of yours?”
“Wouldn’t say they were friends,” said Kaylee. “But they might be willin’ to listen to me. Why? You willin’ to talk to them? Make a deal?”
“Miss Frye,” said the mayor, with sigh. “I’d make a deal with Old Nick himself, if he could stop this city burnin’ tonight—”
The door swung open. A young man strode in, looking for all the world as if he owned the place. He had a smart suit, a corporate badge, slicked-back hair, and Wash instinctively hated him.
“McQuinn?” said the man. “What’s going on in here?”
Kaylee turned to the mayor, eyes flashing. “See?” she said. “See what I mean?”
Come out, Captain Reynolds. Come and talk to me—man to man.”
Mal, crossing to the window, looked outside. Three hovercars were lined up, with a half-dozen fellas, all armed, silhouettes against the darkening sky.
“Zāo gāo,” muttered Mal. “Zoë, what you thinkin’?”
“Thinkin’ it’s a bad idea, sir.”
Mal tended to agree, and more—might be the worst idea in a day full of terrible ideas.
“Simply want to talk, Reynolds. Nothin’ more. Word of honor.”
Honor. This from a fella who’d sent someone to kill Isaac Roberts in cold blood.
“Want to see if we can come to an agreement. Man to man. Browncoat to Browncoat. Or are you workin’ for the Alliance now?”
“Don’t fall for it, sir—”
Far too late for that, though Mal. He wanted to look this fella in the face. Tell him what was happenin’ here on Abel; the kinds of folks that he was workin’ for. Man to man. Browncoat to Browncoat.
“All right, Collier!” he yelled back. “I’ll trust your word as a Browncoat. But you’d better believe my folks are here lookin’ out for me.”
“Come round to the front. It’ll be me and my second. Bring your own fella if you want.”
“No,” said Mal. “I’ll come down there. But first I want to see those friends of yours get in those cars and pull back.”
There was a pause, then, “All right,” Collier called back. Mal watched him exchange a few words with his crew, and then most of them climbed into the hovercars. They lifted and pulled back. “That good?” said Collier.
“That’s good,” said Mal. “I’m ready to talk.” He turned to the two women. “Zoë, you’re with me. Lin, you cover us from up here.” He glanced at the two technicians. “You’ll be all right?”
“I can handle these two,” Lin replied.
Mal was sure she could. With a nod to Zoë to follow, he left the rec room and went downstairs. Before going out of the back of the building, he checked in with Lin, who confirmed that Collier’s men were still holding back as agreed.
“All right. We’re going out.”
He went out the back door, Zoë behind, into the dusk. Two men were waiting, nine or ten feet away. Mal moved slowly forward, risking a glance over his shoulder and up at the rec room. The lights were down, but he could just about make out a dark shape by the window. Lin was covering them.
“Collier,” he said, and raised his hand in greeting.
One of the two men moved forward. “Pleasure to meet you at last. Captain Reynolds, ain’t it?”
“That’s right. My reputation precedes me, huh?”
“Word gets round real quick on Abel,” said Collier.
They eyed each other. Not much that was striking ’bout him, Mal thought; another ordinary fella caught up in the war, tryna find a way to live afterward. Takin’ on whatever job came up. One thing Mal didn’t miss though. Eyes hard as nails. There’d been some real bloodshed, hadn’t there, at the Battle of Sturges.
“I’m hopin’,” said Mal, “between us we can find some common ground, work out our differences—”
“Our differences?” said Collier. “Seems to me they’re plain enough. You’re interferin’ in business ain’t got much to do with you.”
“Asked to intervene. Young lady name of Annie Roberts. Heard of her?”
“Oh,” said Collier, “I think everyone on Abel knows Miss Roberts. Amazin’ how much trouble one little girl can cause. She can talk too, can’t she? Talk the bark off a tree.”
A prickle went down Mal’s spine. “You’ve met her?”
“Met her?” Collier laughed. “Captain, I got her. I don’t know whether you were meant to be lookin’ out for her, but fact is she’s been wanderin’ round out here in the wild, all on her lonesome, and as luck would have it, she wandered straight into the open arms of Bill Fincher. Ain’t that a grand joke? You need to take better care of your employers. Or else they ain’t gonna be in much of a position to pay.”
“Āiya,” muttered Zoë. Mal agreed with the sentiment. Quickly, he said, “Now, listen, you and I both know that she’s only a kid—”
Collier was shaking his head. “Nuh-huh. You listen to me— and listen good. I got the Roberts girl, and I’ve a mind to keep her. Unless…”
“Unless what?”
“’Less I hear news from Yell City that you and your crew have left Abel.”
Tricky proposition, thought Mal, since they were some way from laying their hands on the money to get back Serenity. “Not sure I’m ready to make such a deal—”
“Oh, I think you are—or you should be. So, you go on back to Yell City, now, and when you’re good and gone, I’ll see Miss Roberts safely home—”
Mal moved forward. The man standing behind Collier raised his gun. Zoë did likewise.
“It’s all right,” said Mal. “Ain’t makin’ a move. But—you gotta hear me out, Collier. These people you’re workin’ for—whoever they are—they don’t mean well for Abel. They don’t mean well for anyone livin’ here. You, your friends and family, your kin and everyone else on this good world of yours. They mean to bring you down on your knees, take what’s yours and sell it back to you. I seen what’s goin’ on here, and I got people willin’ to tell the truth. You’re a man who fought for the future of your home, and I know if you hear me out, you’ll be willin’ to fight again—”
Collier wasn’t laughing now. “Fight again? What’s that? You think the war’s still goin’ on?”
“Kind of war, yes. A war between those who want to live and let live, and those who wish to meddle—”
“Then you’re a xī niú fool,” said Collier. “War’s done. Over. We lost. Men like you and me—the sooner we face up to that the better. Ain’t no place for them ideals of ours no more, Reynolds. Lost cause, and I ain’t willin’ to be a loser my whole life. I’m gonna make somethin’ out of this new ’verse. I fought long and hard, and I’ve earned somethin’ for me and mine—”
“Ain’t goin’ to earn it from the people you’re workin’ for now,” said Mal, shaking his head. “They’re the worst the Alliance has to offer, and they’re harmin’ your world, right now—”
Collier laughed out loud. “The worst of the Alliance? You hear yourself? We used to say they were all as bad as each other. Who’s payin’ you now? Annie Roberts? You know why Abel went Alliance in the end? Her father’s doin’! We mighta least stayed neutral if it hadn’t been for him! Him and his Core wife, talkin’ fancy to their wealthy friends, sellin’ us out—”
What? The world tilted. Mal didn’t know; hadn’t known…
“And you take his daughter’s money? Call yourself a Browncoat, Reynolds? You’re like the rest of us—tryna get by in the ’verse, takin’ money from whoever will pay. You ain’t better’n me. And if I ain’t a Browncoat no longer—neither are you.”
“Sir,” said Zoë, quietly. “He’s hopin’ to get a rise from you. Don’t give him that particular pleasure.”
“No,” said Mal, softly. “I won’t…” But he had much to think on, after this exchange. “I want the girl back, Collier.”
“She’ll go back, once you and your crew are gone. Listen now. You and whoever else is here tonight with you—we’ll let you leave. No shootin’, no killin’. You head on back right now to the city, and when I hear tell your ship has left Abel, I’ll send Miss Annie Roberts home without a hair on her head harmed. But one hint of trouble… Well, you better believe me—that girl won’t see her home again. You hear?”
“I hear,” said Mal. “But we ain’t goin’ nowhere till you show me Annie Roberts. Show me she’s safe and well, and then maybe we’ll talk about what happens next.” Backing away, he and Zoë retreated back indoors. Lin was waiting for them in the rec room. Townsend and Larsen were sitting on the couches, hands now in restraints, silent and watchful.
“What did he say?” asked Lin. “Did you appeal to his better nature?”
“Not sure he has one,” said Zoë.
“Did you know?” said Mal.
“Know what?” said Lin.
“That Isaac Roberts sided with the Alliance in the War?”
Lin frowned. “Did you not know?”
“I did not,” said Mal.
“Does it matter?” said Lin. “Roberts isn’t the one pointing guns at us—”
“Not now, no—”
“He wasn’t the one selling out his world to these people.” Lin nodded at their captives. “He died trying to stop it. Captain, they’re poisoning this place! Wrecking lives. You know right from wrong, Reynolds. And Collier—he’s in the wrong.”
“He ain’t a bad man,” said Mal.
“You sure about that, sir?” said Zoë.
Might he have gone this way, Mal wondered, had turned out differently? Had there been no Zoë, and no Serenity? There’d been moments, he knew, when he’d looked so hard at the black that there hadn’t been anythin’ past it. But he’d dug in; dug deep. Found his way through, and kept on findin’ it.
“No,” said Mal, “he ain’t bad. He’s just a lost cause.”
That was what it was, Mal thought; Collier and his people— they’d lost their way. Forgotten what had sent them off to war in the first place. Love for home and the way things were done at home. Wantin’ to be left alone to get on with the business of livin’. That was how Mal tried to lead his life. But this fella? He was out for himself now, out to make what he could out of the trouble his world was in. And that wasn’t right. That wasn’t what they’d fought for. Even when you lost, you tried to remember what it was you’d fought for.
“Sir,” said Zoë. “What are we gonna do?”
“What are we gonna do?” Mal looked out of the window. The cars were coming back. “We don’t do anythin’ until I’ve seen Annie Roberts standin’ out there, safe and sound. And then… then it’ll be time to put this fella and his whole crew out of their misery.”
* * *
The journey from the Guild House to the de Cecille residence hardly took them through the less salubrious parts of the city, but even so, Inara could hear the distant sounds of trouble across town. Sirens wailing; hovercars throbbing. Their car swung round a corner giving them a view across the city, and Inara saw flickering patches of light here and there, red and orange—something set on fire, she guessed. She sighed, and glanced at Simon. He was hunched forwards, chewing at his thumbnail. Worrying about River, she imagined. She looked out again. Some of the houses they were passing were cloaked in darkness, but the majority, like the Guild House, had their own sources of power.
Suddenly, Simon gasped. “Oh!” he said. “Oh! I see…”
“Simon?”
He turned to her, eyes shining. “Inara,” he said. “I know what’s going on—”
She jerked her head towards the driver. “Well, keep it to yourself for the moment.”
“Yes, of course…” He smiled. “Don’t worry,” he said. “Everything’s clear now.”
The welcome at the de Cecilles was considerably less impressive this time. Their hovercar went almost furtively to a side entrance. Inara and Simon were all but ordered out and bundled into the house.
“They’re lacking in courtesy this evening,” Simon said cheerfully. “What do you think we did to offend?”
“Be careful…” Inara murmured.
“It’s all right, Inara,” he said. “We’ll be fine.”
Inara wasn’t so sure. They were led into a large sitting room, where both the Monseigneur and Madame were waiting for them. Madame was sitting in one corner, almost in shadows. Monseigneur was standing, arms folded, watching as they came in.
“Good evening,” Simon said, in a clear voice, crossing the room towards them. Was he taking the offensive? Inara frowned. What was going on here? “Forgive me if we didn’t make ourselves clear, but we did not intend to come here this evening. Perhaps you can explain—”
“I think the explanations should be coming from you, Mr Amery,” said Monseigneur. “If that is indeed your name.”
“It’s the one you can use,” said Simon.
“As for you,” Monseigneur glanced at Inara, “you seem to be who you claim to be—”
“Thank you,” said Inara.
“But I’m not entirely sure who he is.” He looked at Simon. “I’ll find out eventually, when I have better access to the Cortex. In the meantime, I think you should remain here, until the sheriff’s office can investigate. You’re surely aware that deception is a crime across the Alliance.”
“I like my privacy,” said Simon. “And that’s not a crime. But if we’re talking about crimes—what about abduction? We were quite clear that we didn’t want to come here this evening—”
“You’re accusing me of a crime?”
“Oh yes,” said Simon. “In fact, abduction might be the least of it.”
“You’re not in a position to talk to me like this, young man,” said the Monseigneur.
“Actually,” said Simon, “I think I am.”
Āiya, thought Inara. What did he think he was doing? But Simon was quite relaxed.
“I’d advise you,” said Madame, from her corner, “not to try our patience, Mr Amery. You’re in a very vulnerable position—”
