http://shadow2serenity.livejournal.com/ (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
shadow2serenity.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
firefly_fanfic2006-02-10 06:28 pm
shadow2serenity.livejournal.com) wrote in firefly_fanfic2006-02-10 06:28 pm
When In Rome: 3/?
Author: RangerSebulba
Rating: PG
Summary: Serenity's crew now has a job steeped in mystery - but only one of them unknowingly holds the key to its success.
Notes: All other pertinent blurbs in the Prologue; then of course there's Act 1 and Act 2.
Disclaimer: Merely twisting Joss's universe and characters for my own vile purposes...hahaha, mine is an evil laugh! NOW READ!
**********
Act 3
The first thing Kaylee noticed as she and the stranger approached their destination was a thick pall of smoke that hung a few hundred feet in the air, billowing to perhaps a hundred thousand cubic feet. She could literally see it coming a mile away. A corner turned and there was the source - a sizable train terminal, accessible by either a gravelled road or ten tracks entering from different directions, converging at the south end. The yard's interior was scored with uncounted tracks, every one crowded with cars from all sorts of industries, all shapes, sizes and commodities. The majority of the smoke seemed to be emanating from further back in the yard, at the bottom of a very steep hill where the dozens of tracks shrank to five.
"Is that where we're goin'?" Kaylee asked with an undertone of knuckle-cracking anticipation.
"That's the place, m'friend," the man said. "With any luck, my engine's spewin' only a fraction of that smoke yonder."
"If this weren't steam power, I'd be goin' hou zi shi about core containment," Kaylee said matter-of-factly.
"Aah, no worries. Ain't no Reavers hereabouts. Knock on wood." The stranger set foot down a short hill toward the gravel access road.
"Say, I've yet to get your name," Kaylee said, quickly catching up to him.
"Robert. Robert Baart." His right hand reached across, spread wide.
"Kaylee. Kaylee Frye," she grinned, imitating his inflection. Following the brisk handshake, she was half tempted to feel tenderly for broken fingers.
"Cute name, you don't mind me thinkin'," Robert commented. "Not quite the first type I'd expect to find pingin' and bangin' on an old Firefly."
"Well, I took what came my way," Kaylee said happily. "I'm no kind of regretful 'bout it. I love my Serenity."
The closer they drew to the yard, the more atypical it looked to Kaylee. After Serenity's last visit to Regina, she was expecting a duplicate of the mag-lev railroad that ran from Hancock to Paradiso with oil-electric locomotives. Robert's earlier claim aside, this was entirely new to her; and yet, it was clearly traditional, as it raised her awareness of why the word "railroad" had first been coined. Instead of a single mag-lev strip, the track consisted of heavy, parallel steel rails fastened to crossties of varying material.
Past the main gate, the first stop along the access road was a crew shack, a small wooden affair comprised of a climate-controlled lounge, a locker room and a washroom. Robert was in and out inside of a minute, registered for duty and toting an aluminum tool case creatively engraved with his last name.
"Looks like quite a piece of action today," he said with a toothy half-smile. "Got me a manifest freight goin' up to Gonitong, soon as I get with the rest of my crew."
"That awful far from here?" Kaylee inquired.
"No more'n a few hours. We gotta go up the Killer Hill. Ten miles of heavy grade all twisted 'n' skewed with curves and the like. But even at all that..."
"Ain't an engine in the 'verse that'll run proper without the right crew," Kaylee finished, her smile rivaling the sunshine.
"Amen, sister. That's why me and Seth, my fireman, we always draw the Killer Hill."
Setting Kaylee's heart at a greater pace yet, Robert led the way rapidly along the road toward the servicing facilities: Kaylee was, to say the least, amazed at the sheer volume of work taking place inside the train shed. Body work, frame repairs, and replacement of the flanged steel wheels were but a few of the tasks being feverishly performed on the hundreds of rail cars inside the shed. Were it not for the imminent encounter with an active piece of equipment, Kaylee might well have dived right in to add her small but dexterous hands to the efforts; yet, aside from the overhanging mass of smoke, there was still no apparent trace of Robert's steam-driven mystery machine.
"Ready?" he asked as he led her past the train shed and its adjoining office.
"Been tryin' to still my patterin' heart for the better part of an hour," Kaylee said eagerly. "Damn right I'm ready."
"Well, here she is," Robert said, turning the corner.
Sticking to his footsteps, Kaylee rounded the turn; almost at once she stopped dead in her tracks, her breath halted in mid-throat.
The towering behemoth that greeted her was possessed of an untouchable beauty she had never seen in any mechanism, save Serenity. It was at least sixteen feet tall from the ground up, sitting on a base of variously sized wheels: the eight that supported the middle of the engine were gigantic, their diameter exceeded Kaylee's height by half a foot. They were connected by a gleaming hodgepodge of steel rods joined with two great cylinders at the front end, which had the support of four much smaller wheels, as did the cab at the rear and the cubical outgrowth beneath it. The rest of the engine was immense and cylindrical and radiating visible waves of heat into the already warm air. The letters "JN&W" were neatly stencilled in English and Chinese on the side of the fuel tender attached just behind the cab.
A thin wisp of dark oily smoke trailed from a vertical smokestack mounted at the front, and below it, the most remarkable feature: the closest thing to a human face that had ever existed in a machine. Two marker lights like a pair of watchful eyes were mounted to either side of the smokestack, while below, a large headlamp poked its nose out above the steel-grated pilot. Under the headlamp, a curving grab iron conveyed the engine's most human feature - it looked as if it was smiling.
Ecstatic at the sight, Kaylee forgot all about River's hot-water monologue. She now knew how Mal must have felt when he first laid eyes on Serenity.
"Impressive, ain't she?" Robert's voice sounded a mile off.
"This...is...incredible!" Kaylee exclaimed breathlessly. "I never seen any piece of equipment looked this close to bein' alive! I mean - you can hear her breathe, feel her heat..."
"Not to get into her temper," Robert said with a knowing grin. "She can be awful cranky when she likes. But just like that ship o' yourn, you treat her just right and she'll beat the hell out of any mountainside in the 'verse."
"You takin' her out pretty soon?" Kaylee asked. "'Cause I ain't gotta be back for a few hours yet, so..."
"Well, let's see what the hostler's got to say for hisself," Robert decreed. He crossed the tracks in front of the engine and led the way down the right side toward the cab gangway.
"I mean, is that shiny?" Kaylee asked hopefully. "Or do you..."
"JO-JO!" Robert bellowed at the top of his voice. Kaylee clammed up, startled - she couldn't tell if a sudden bout of anger had taken him or if he was just engaging in the working man's camaraderie. A hint dropped as to which of these held true when a heavyset, goateed character, eyes set in a piercing glower, leaned out of the gangway.
"What?" he hollered back. "Whaddyou want?"
"I want my ruttin' locomotive, that's what," Robert returned. "You better not have broken my seat again, neither. Seth here yet?"
"Hey, he's your fireman, you track 'im down," the hostler scoffed. He withdrew from the gangway, clearing the way for Robert and Kaylee to climb aboard. "Me, I'm just sittin' around lookin' handsome till the next through freight rolls in here."
"Well, you've got the sittin' around part right, but I don't know about the lookin' handsome," Robert smirked. He mounted the seat on the right side of the cab, pulling the daily inspection report from a wall slot beside it.
"Oh, c'mon, everybody's got some good to offer in the 'verse," Kaylee broke in. Smiling blindingly at the hostler, she shoved her hand forth. "Hi! I'm Kaylee. And let me just say this is the second most amazing rig I ever laid eyes on."
"Yeah, well, why don't you ask him who looks after it when he ain't poundin' on it," the hostler said after shaking Kaylee's hand in only the briefest. He undulated slowly to the other side of the cab, turned his back outward and dropped down the ladder from the gangway.
"He sure don't seem too happy to see you," Kaylee observed.
"Yeah, well, tell you what," Robert said derisively. "Main reason that fat piece of niu shi is the hostler is 'cause he couldn't run a train around a Christmas tree." He folded the inspection report, shoved it back in its slot next to his seat, and stood up, reaching for a long-necked oil can sitting on a shelf at the front of the cab. "Here, you can grab that short one if you want."
Gnawing at her lip with excitement, Kaylee picked up the short-necked can still resting on the shelf and trailed Robert to the gangway. "Hard to believe I never heard tell of these," she said, descending the ladder above him. "They used to run on Earth that was, you said, right?"
"Five hundred years ago, 'twas a pretty damned decent way to get around," Robert related. He ambled toward the front of the engine and oiled several parts of the running gear, pointing others out for Kaylee to follow suit. "Hundred years before that, it was the only way to get around. The ruttin' Alliance can try and rewrite history till they're blue in the face, but they's some things we hold onto here on Roma, that they can't never take from us if they expect us to keep payin' taxes. And we're almighty proud of it. Here's hopin' you ain't stuck here long enough to find out about it, but..."
"You don't much care for the Alliance, do you?" Kaylee guessed, dribbling some of the thick oil into the indicated areas.
"My old man was an Independent. His regiment was holding high ground at the Battle of Boros afore one of them butt-ugly cruisers levelled the entire hill. I wanted to give it right back to 'em in the worst way, but I'd just made fireman and I knew I could do my bit right here."
"Then I guess you know why my ship's called Serenity," Kaylee surmised.
Robert lifted an eyebrow in understanding. "Serenity Valley."
"Cap'n Reynolds held down the fort for months," Kaylee nodded. "But the Alliance, they made sure every history teacher in the 'verse forgot about the heroes from the other side. It sure don't seem like the captain's lost much bitterness from that. I'm thinkin' he'll have a snowball fight with the devil 'fore he lets go of it any."
"Who'd blame him?" Robert shrugged, leading the way around to the other side of the engine. "I seen the monorail and mag-lev systems they got on the core planets. And look what we got out here, steel rails and steam locomotives. This here's as conventional as it gets. I love these things to death, but no thanks to the Alliance, they's a lot of outer planets ain't even got this far."
"Even some of them might be just a hair further along weren't for the folk that run 'em. Places like Whitefall, Jianying, Canton - been there, seen that, can't say I'm much the better for it. I always like to see somethin' on the bright side, but places like them, it kinda lays a damper on things, y'know?"
"Yeah." Suddenly taciturn, Robert nodded his head, peering absently down the spout of his oil can. "I know exactly what you mean."
**********
By this point, it was Wash's considered opinion that there was little, if any, monetary profit to be made searching for a contact along the shopping avenue. In the last hour he and his friends had made attempts in a betting parlour and two bars, the last of which was just the type Mal might patronise looking for a "quiet drink" on Unification Day. Zoe was somewhere out of sight; Simon and River were in the billiard hall adjoining the bar, leaving Wash to try not to wonder what kind of unwanted attention River would draw.
He drained his glass, plopped it down on the bar, and dug his radio out of the pocket of his blue-and-white aloha shirt. Brow furrowing, he held it in front of his face for some seconds as if willing it to light off. He felt like he'd been waiting since the year of the exodus for Mal to call in, but there had been no contact now for hours. Sighing for want of any cognition, Wash returned radio to pocket, catching Zoe's approach in his peripheral vision.
"Still no word from the captain?" Zoe asked, leaning on the bar.
"So far, so blank," Wash answered. "Don't know how much longer I can keep this up, though. You know I've had to fend off the attentions of at least three or four bar floozies looking to buy me another round?"
"Well, then," Zoe said, staring daggers into Wash's eyes. "Best we move on soon. Can't have you flying while intoxicated, now can we?"
"Dearheart, I'd never look to get drunk on but one thing in this 'verse," Wash promised.
The thought of a smile had just entered Zoe's mind when it was subsequently forced out by a sound that had become inordinately familiar aboard Serenity of late. These days, the sound - that of Simon's voice calling River's name - could be heard with such frequency that a certain member of the crew probably could become intoxicated by it, assuming the fuel fumes hadn't already made her tipsy by now. Looking past Wash, Zoe observed Simon hastening from the billiard hall behind River, whose pace was as impetuous as it was rapid.
"C'mon," she said quickly, grabbing Wash and Zoe's hands. "We've got to get out of here quick. The ringing, it's getting faster. Faster and closer." Her eyes darted upward, rushing from nowhere to nowhere along the ceiling.
"Ringing, what ringing?" Wash said, baffled out of his mind. Of Zoe he inquired, "Dear, we didn't pass any gongs along the way, did we?"
"It's too fast!" River insisted. "The faster the ringing gets, the closer they come and the sooner they'll find you. As soon as they find you they'll shake you to pieces. Once they make contact, they don't stop, not till they've lost it. Not till they've torn you apart completely."
"Okay, okay," Wash said, holding up his free hand in what was probably a futile attempt to placate her. "Before we all start hearing bells, why don't we try and reach some consensus on what exactly you're talking about."
"I don't like the sound of it, whatever it is," Zoe said grimly. "C'mon, let's see if we can't track down the captain."
As they exited the bar, with River in hurried lead, Simon glanced obliquely at Wash. "You suppose Mal will at least have a few contacts lined up by the time we catch up with him?" he asked conversationally, trying to sideline his worries about River.
"Oh, I'm sure he's got 'em stacked six deep in every joint he's hit," Wash said, his hands tossed as aloft as his voice.
***
Six deep or otherwise, Mal's contacts were already impelling him and his cronies, sans Inara, back along the main street toward Serenity. He instantly recognised the expression on Jayne's face - a look of complete cluelessness, resulting from a futile attempt to be thoughtful. Enlightenment and word-spreading aside, he was also growing to recognise what was on Book's mind just by reading him. Even at that, what Mal found most disquieting was what lay between the lines.
"All right, Mal," Jayne grunted. "Wanna give us the dope on how to de-mortalise this ghost train?"
"First let's wrap ourselves around one nice basic concept," Mal instructed firmly. "This ain't no ghost. It's as real as this job Carabella just offered us, this job we're in such dire need of if we're gonna keep flyin'. Now can we try and keep this notion foremost in the brain pan?"
"I think we've got some concerns almost as pressing in the midst of it all," Book advised.
"I hate it when you talk about pressing concerns," Jayne grumbled.
"Not overly fond of it my own self," Mal said. "You mind enlightening us on this one, Preacher?"
"While you were closing your deal, McCreedie and company didn't seem to mind me doing a little recreational reading," Book explained. "I came across one piece of work on Roma's greatest outlaws, and it's small wonder that it was the centerpiece of Carabella's literature collection. One of the last chapters was about a local mob kingpin named Marion Carabella, apparently quite the extortionist in these parts."
"Now how's a guy get any respect as a criminal with a name like Marion?" Jayne wondered rhetorically.
"Same way a guy gets any respect as a mercenary with a name like Jayne," Mal said with a knowing smirk, rewarded by an incendiary glare. "Reputation's the heart of the matter, my friend. This guy have any family ties we should know about?"
"Well, the book doesn't bear any mention of his children, but his death did coincide with the disappearance of the train," Book answered. "There were no obvious discrepancies between what I've read and what you've heard."
"Seems there was an awful lot of big words in it, though," Jayne said, glowering hintingly.
"The stories match," Mal said emphatically. "What the Shepherd read is in the same vein as what Carabella told us. The wording of both stories - "
"All right, all right," Jayne defended. "That still don't answer my question on how you're fixin' to dig this train out of whatever grave it's run into."
"Gotta find it first, then we can worry about the exhumation." Mal caught himself too late, aiming a sideways stare Book's way. "That ain't too much of a problem notion for you, is it, Preacher?"
"Strikes me unlikely that the crew of the train received a proper burial," Book said matter-of-factly. "It wouldn't hurt to at least say a few words for them."
"Well, I'll leave that part to you," Mal said. "And while you're at it, why don'tcha lift up some prayers that something more'll come to hand than picks and shovels."
"Hmm," Book said, looking about the street. "Now that you mention it, that casino district does seem to be the most affluent in the entire city - the entire planet, in fact. Carabella probably isn't the only high roller in town, or the only gangster, for that matter."
"So most of the offworld money comes into the casino district and stays there," Mal mused. "It figures the Alliance don't pay it no heed. Explains a thing or three about folks' standard of living, or lack thereof."
"I been formulatin' a thought here might make you say hmm," Jayne spoke up. "How's about we take the money and run?"
"Hmm," Mal said with a mocking undertone. "I'm tryin' hard not to faint here, Jayne, but you've had brighter ideas than that. Carabella's a mobster, and I ain't revisitin' the consequences of stealing from the gorram mob, dong ma?"
"Captain!"
Mal broke off, shooting a glance toward the other side of the street, somewhat gratified that whoever it was had called him by his title instead of his name. As it turned out, the call, appropriately enough, was from Zoe; she and the others - with River's face breaking into that unnervingly joyful grin of hers - were making haste across the street to join them.
"Captain, you all right?" Zoe asked.
"Where's Inara?" Simon chimed in.
"Yeah, we're fine," Mal said, brow creasing in confusion as to the source of Zoe's concern. "She's..."
"Out in the woods," River interrupted, smiling. "The gates came down and she couldn't go around. She doesn't know where she is, but she knows where to go, and she's cutting a path of her own. She's led you away from all that infernal ringing. The only ringing now is a constant cascade of platinum coin falling one on top of another, over and over again. The avalanche burying the treasure."
"These rambles of yours are gettin' freakishly accurate, little one," Mal murmured.
"Is that what that was all about?" Wash said in disbelief.
"Is that what what was all about?" Mal pried.
"It's nothing, sir," Zoe said dismissively. "But do I hear her right that we might have a job?"
"Only the latest in a long train," Mal said. "Let's get back to Serenity. I'm all for deliverin' the briefing in a nice cosy private atmo."
"You've got my vote," Wash said. "You ask me, these walls have ears. Besides, Kaylee's probably going kuang zhe de with those fumes by now."
"Aah, wouldn't worry none on little Kaylee," Jayne said non-committally. "Sure'n she's done work and havin' all sortsa fun with her battery-operated boyfriend."
***
If there was any non-living significant other completely occupying Kaylee's mind, it was powered not by batteries or rocket fuel or anything but steam. Even at that, she was less and less sure that this mechanical marvel was non-living; like Serenity, it had a life and a mind of its own, heat and breath and incredible strength. Fire roared in the great steel box ahead of the cab, fed by atomised oil from the tender and heating the water inside the engine's boiler to more than six hundred degrees. The faster it ran, the faster the thunder of its chugging exhaust, like the snorting and panting of a horse approaching full gallop. The ride was less than settling, but Kaylee barely noticed from her perch on a fold-out jump seat mounted on the front of the tender. The noise would have been unbearable to any layman, yet her pulse increased with excitement and kept time with the exhaust; even the briefest glance at the blinding white glare in the firebox sight glass left her blinking rapidly. Now Robert tugged at the whistle pull to clear a small dirt road that crossed the track, making Kaylee's heart sing along with the deep lilting wail from the three-chambered whistle.
"Here's where the fun begins!" Robert yelled over his shoulder, grinning. He reached forward, opened a small valve in front of him, and gripped the throttle lever tightly in both hands and yanked it sharply open. Kaylee clapped her hands, almost laughing for elation as the ruckus from the smokestack and the engine's instrumentation increased dramatically: their assault on the grade was come. Across the cab, the atomiser valve opened wide under the hand of Seth, the lanky, dark-haired fireman; and now the fire raged with such white-hot violence as could melt any unprotected metal.
"Hey, how fast is she goin' now?" Kaylee hollered.
"Oh..." Robert paused, cocking an ear to the blast from the exhaust. "Probably about forty, give or take. There was this one time I was fillin' in on the Octoro Division, got her up to a dollar five. Man, what I wouldn't give to have that run every day! Nice level stretch, no grades, no tight curves, nothin'! Just you and your engine tearin' the countryside in half!"
"Sounds like an all-right life!" Kaylee exclaimed. "I'm beginnin' to wish I was born someplace else, y'know?"
"I know," Robert nodded comprehensively. "Coulda had a chance to play at this if you were, eh?"
"Coulda, shoulda, woulda," Kaylee shrugged. At that particular moment she was wondering what life would be like if she had been born on Roma and gotten a chance to dirty her hands on a steam locomotive. Of course she loved Serenity like nothing else she'd ever laid tools on, but she couldn't help thinking - if this engine or something like it had crossed her path first, would Serenity even have existed for her?
By now the exhaust had reached nearly eight strokes per second, literally bringing her to the edge of her seat with the sheer exhilaration of it all. She let her eyes roam across the cab, drifting from the amalgam of gleaming control levers on Robert's side to the confounding rabble of gauges and valves on Seth's. Baffling as Kaylee found it, Seth seemed to know every valve's function instinctively, every gauge's reading relative to the engine's operation. He had not shut off the water injector since a mile's distance from the grade, but now the main steam gauge was rock steady at 250 pounds per square inch.
Kaylee was so absorbed in childlike awe that she didn't even realise Robert was calling her name until she looked back toward his side of the cab.
"Hm - huh?" she said, shaking herself out of it.
"C'mere for a minute," Robert said, beckoning. Kaylee alit from her seat, clinging firmly to grab irons as she picked her way across the heaving deck to his. He rose, patting the big throttle. "Wanna give her a try?"
"Do I - you - I mean - can I?" Kaylee stammered. All her wonderment at seeing the engine in action was obliterated at this unexpected, golden opportunity.
"Go for it," Robert grinned. "You want a chance to play at this, here it is." He glanced forward one last time to make sure the track was clear before stepping down. Grabbing at the nearest handholds, Kaylee, her heart nearly palpitating with excitement, clambered into his place and sat, unsure of what to do or even say.
The view was mind-boggling from here.
For the first time she could truly see how much action was happening at once, the thrash of the rods ceaselessly spinning the great drive wheels; the translucent plume of oil smoke shooting sky-high from the stack in time with the accelerating exhaust; the lateral jolting motions of the engine barely restrained by the wheel flanges against the rails. Staring past the huge barrel of the boiler at the track forthcoming, Kaylee didn't even notice Seth shaking his head with amusement. At that, she barely heard Robert's voice endowing her with instructions; the waves of heat radiating from the firebox were the only assurance she had that this wasn't a dream. The pace of her hands seemed to indicate otherwise as she listened to the directions, notched back the gear lever and cracked the throttle further open, felt the increasing speed of the wind against her face and through her free-flowing hair.
Then the difference set in.
It set in on more levels than Kaylee could count: physical, spiritual, emotional; but by far, the greatest difference was in her life. If only for this moment, she felt as if there was nothing else in the universe, no crew, no Serenity, no strange planet, no Alliance. There wasn't even anything or anyone behind her: there was just her, Kaywinnit Lee Frye, and this simple yet marvelous piece of machinery guided by her exhilarated hand: and there was the track ahead, upon which she and the steel behemoth jolted ever back and forth, leading the way to the most exciting and fascinating and beautiful new places she had ever seen.
***
Try as he might to expect anything to happen at any moment, Mal was not expecting to find Serenity locked up tight.
Fortunately, Zoe was possessed of the means to rectify this. Having made his way into the cargo hold, Mal was struck by another condition unanticipated - darkness and complete silence. Not even the most distant hint of a ratchet, a socket wrench, a needle scaler, a welder, or any other tool Mal could conjure; by all appearances, Serenity was deserted.
"Kaylee!" he hollered, his voice echoing about the bay. "What's the big idea, girl? Wash never gets it in his head to lock us out and then hide on us!"
"That's 'cause I'm married to the judge, jury and executioner," Wash interjected in a low voice.
"Heard that," Zoe said, marching around Wash with a love tap to his chest. "Sir, you said eighteen hundred - that's a few hours off yet. Could be Kaylee's just out enjoyin' the sunshine."
"Well, I ain't got it in me to waste any time on this job," Mal said dryly. He strode aft toward the common area, face turned to stone. "Kaylee! Gorrammit, where is that girl?"
Continued
Rating: PG
Summary: Serenity's crew now has a job steeped in mystery - but only one of them unknowingly holds the key to its success.
Notes: All other pertinent blurbs in the Prologue; then of course there's Act 1 and Act 2.
Disclaimer: Merely twisting Joss's universe and characters for my own vile purposes...hahaha, mine is an evil laugh! NOW READ!
**********
Act 3
The first thing Kaylee noticed as she and the stranger approached their destination was a thick pall of smoke that hung a few hundred feet in the air, billowing to perhaps a hundred thousand cubic feet. She could literally see it coming a mile away. A corner turned and there was the source - a sizable train terminal, accessible by either a gravelled road or ten tracks entering from different directions, converging at the south end. The yard's interior was scored with uncounted tracks, every one crowded with cars from all sorts of industries, all shapes, sizes and commodities. The majority of the smoke seemed to be emanating from further back in the yard, at the bottom of a very steep hill where the dozens of tracks shrank to five.
"Is that where we're goin'?" Kaylee asked with an undertone of knuckle-cracking anticipation.
"That's the place, m'friend," the man said. "With any luck, my engine's spewin' only a fraction of that smoke yonder."
"If this weren't steam power, I'd be goin' hou zi shi about core containment," Kaylee said matter-of-factly.
"Aah, no worries. Ain't no Reavers hereabouts. Knock on wood." The stranger set foot down a short hill toward the gravel access road.
"Say, I've yet to get your name," Kaylee said, quickly catching up to him.
"Robert. Robert Baart." His right hand reached across, spread wide.
"Kaylee. Kaylee Frye," she grinned, imitating his inflection. Following the brisk handshake, she was half tempted to feel tenderly for broken fingers.
"Cute name, you don't mind me thinkin'," Robert commented. "Not quite the first type I'd expect to find pingin' and bangin' on an old Firefly."
"Well, I took what came my way," Kaylee said happily. "I'm no kind of regretful 'bout it. I love my Serenity."
The closer they drew to the yard, the more atypical it looked to Kaylee. After Serenity's last visit to Regina, she was expecting a duplicate of the mag-lev railroad that ran from Hancock to Paradiso with oil-electric locomotives. Robert's earlier claim aside, this was entirely new to her; and yet, it was clearly traditional, as it raised her awareness of why the word "railroad" had first been coined. Instead of a single mag-lev strip, the track consisted of heavy, parallel steel rails fastened to crossties of varying material.
Past the main gate, the first stop along the access road was a crew shack, a small wooden affair comprised of a climate-controlled lounge, a locker room and a washroom. Robert was in and out inside of a minute, registered for duty and toting an aluminum tool case creatively engraved with his last name.
"Looks like quite a piece of action today," he said with a toothy half-smile. "Got me a manifest freight goin' up to Gonitong, soon as I get with the rest of my crew."
"That awful far from here?" Kaylee inquired.
"No more'n a few hours. We gotta go up the Killer Hill. Ten miles of heavy grade all twisted 'n' skewed with curves and the like. But even at all that..."
"Ain't an engine in the 'verse that'll run proper without the right crew," Kaylee finished, her smile rivaling the sunshine.
"Amen, sister. That's why me and Seth, my fireman, we always draw the Killer Hill."
Setting Kaylee's heart at a greater pace yet, Robert led the way rapidly along the road toward the servicing facilities: Kaylee was, to say the least, amazed at the sheer volume of work taking place inside the train shed. Body work, frame repairs, and replacement of the flanged steel wheels were but a few of the tasks being feverishly performed on the hundreds of rail cars inside the shed. Were it not for the imminent encounter with an active piece of equipment, Kaylee might well have dived right in to add her small but dexterous hands to the efforts; yet, aside from the overhanging mass of smoke, there was still no apparent trace of Robert's steam-driven mystery machine.
"Ready?" he asked as he led her past the train shed and its adjoining office.
"Been tryin' to still my patterin' heart for the better part of an hour," Kaylee said eagerly. "Damn right I'm ready."
"Well, here she is," Robert said, turning the corner.
Sticking to his footsteps, Kaylee rounded the turn; almost at once she stopped dead in her tracks, her breath halted in mid-throat.
The towering behemoth that greeted her was possessed of an untouchable beauty she had never seen in any mechanism, save Serenity. It was at least sixteen feet tall from the ground up, sitting on a base of variously sized wheels: the eight that supported the middle of the engine were gigantic, their diameter exceeded Kaylee's height by half a foot. They were connected by a gleaming hodgepodge of steel rods joined with two great cylinders at the front end, which had the support of four much smaller wheels, as did the cab at the rear and the cubical outgrowth beneath it. The rest of the engine was immense and cylindrical and radiating visible waves of heat into the already warm air. The letters "JN&W" were neatly stencilled in English and Chinese on the side of the fuel tender attached just behind the cab.
A thin wisp of dark oily smoke trailed from a vertical smokestack mounted at the front, and below it, the most remarkable feature: the closest thing to a human face that had ever existed in a machine. Two marker lights like a pair of watchful eyes were mounted to either side of the smokestack, while below, a large headlamp poked its nose out above the steel-grated pilot. Under the headlamp, a curving grab iron conveyed the engine's most human feature - it looked as if it was smiling.
Ecstatic at the sight, Kaylee forgot all about River's hot-water monologue. She now knew how Mal must have felt when he first laid eyes on Serenity.
"Impressive, ain't she?" Robert's voice sounded a mile off.
"This...is...incredible!" Kaylee exclaimed breathlessly. "I never seen any piece of equipment looked this close to bein' alive! I mean - you can hear her breathe, feel her heat..."
"Not to get into her temper," Robert said with a knowing grin. "She can be awful cranky when she likes. But just like that ship o' yourn, you treat her just right and she'll beat the hell out of any mountainside in the 'verse."
"You takin' her out pretty soon?" Kaylee asked. "'Cause I ain't gotta be back for a few hours yet, so..."
"Well, let's see what the hostler's got to say for hisself," Robert decreed. He crossed the tracks in front of the engine and led the way down the right side toward the cab gangway.
"I mean, is that shiny?" Kaylee asked hopefully. "Or do you..."
"JO-JO!" Robert bellowed at the top of his voice. Kaylee clammed up, startled - she couldn't tell if a sudden bout of anger had taken him or if he was just engaging in the working man's camaraderie. A hint dropped as to which of these held true when a heavyset, goateed character, eyes set in a piercing glower, leaned out of the gangway.
"What?" he hollered back. "Whaddyou want?"
"I want my ruttin' locomotive, that's what," Robert returned. "You better not have broken my seat again, neither. Seth here yet?"
"Hey, he's your fireman, you track 'im down," the hostler scoffed. He withdrew from the gangway, clearing the way for Robert and Kaylee to climb aboard. "Me, I'm just sittin' around lookin' handsome till the next through freight rolls in here."
"Well, you've got the sittin' around part right, but I don't know about the lookin' handsome," Robert smirked. He mounted the seat on the right side of the cab, pulling the daily inspection report from a wall slot beside it.
"Oh, c'mon, everybody's got some good to offer in the 'verse," Kaylee broke in. Smiling blindingly at the hostler, she shoved her hand forth. "Hi! I'm Kaylee. And let me just say this is the second most amazing rig I ever laid eyes on."
"Yeah, well, why don't you ask him who looks after it when he ain't poundin' on it," the hostler said after shaking Kaylee's hand in only the briefest. He undulated slowly to the other side of the cab, turned his back outward and dropped down the ladder from the gangway.
"He sure don't seem too happy to see you," Kaylee observed.
"Yeah, well, tell you what," Robert said derisively. "Main reason that fat piece of niu shi is the hostler is 'cause he couldn't run a train around a Christmas tree." He folded the inspection report, shoved it back in its slot next to his seat, and stood up, reaching for a long-necked oil can sitting on a shelf at the front of the cab. "Here, you can grab that short one if you want."
Gnawing at her lip with excitement, Kaylee picked up the short-necked can still resting on the shelf and trailed Robert to the gangway. "Hard to believe I never heard tell of these," she said, descending the ladder above him. "They used to run on Earth that was, you said, right?"
"Five hundred years ago, 'twas a pretty damned decent way to get around," Robert related. He ambled toward the front of the engine and oiled several parts of the running gear, pointing others out for Kaylee to follow suit. "Hundred years before that, it was the only way to get around. The ruttin' Alliance can try and rewrite history till they're blue in the face, but they's some things we hold onto here on Roma, that they can't never take from us if they expect us to keep payin' taxes. And we're almighty proud of it. Here's hopin' you ain't stuck here long enough to find out about it, but..."
"You don't much care for the Alliance, do you?" Kaylee guessed, dribbling some of the thick oil into the indicated areas.
"My old man was an Independent. His regiment was holding high ground at the Battle of Boros afore one of them butt-ugly cruisers levelled the entire hill. I wanted to give it right back to 'em in the worst way, but I'd just made fireman and I knew I could do my bit right here."
"Then I guess you know why my ship's called Serenity," Kaylee surmised.
Robert lifted an eyebrow in understanding. "Serenity Valley."
"Cap'n Reynolds held down the fort for months," Kaylee nodded. "But the Alliance, they made sure every history teacher in the 'verse forgot about the heroes from the other side. It sure don't seem like the captain's lost much bitterness from that. I'm thinkin' he'll have a snowball fight with the devil 'fore he lets go of it any."
"Who'd blame him?" Robert shrugged, leading the way around to the other side of the engine. "I seen the monorail and mag-lev systems they got on the core planets. And look what we got out here, steel rails and steam locomotives. This here's as conventional as it gets. I love these things to death, but no thanks to the Alliance, they's a lot of outer planets ain't even got this far."
"Even some of them might be just a hair further along weren't for the folk that run 'em. Places like Whitefall, Jianying, Canton - been there, seen that, can't say I'm much the better for it. I always like to see somethin' on the bright side, but places like them, it kinda lays a damper on things, y'know?"
"Yeah." Suddenly taciturn, Robert nodded his head, peering absently down the spout of his oil can. "I know exactly what you mean."
**********
By this point, it was Wash's considered opinion that there was little, if any, monetary profit to be made searching for a contact along the shopping avenue. In the last hour he and his friends had made attempts in a betting parlour and two bars, the last of which was just the type Mal might patronise looking for a "quiet drink" on Unification Day. Zoe was somewhere out of sight; Simon and River were in the billiard hall adjoining the bar, leaving Wash to try not to wonder what kind of unwanted attention River would draw.
He drained his glass, plopped it down on the bar, and dug his radio out of the pocket of his blue-and-white aloha shirt. Brow furrowing, he held it in front of his face for some seconds as if willing it to light off. He felt like he'd been waiting since the year of the exodus for Mal to call in, but there had been no contact now for hours. Sighing for want of any cognition, Wash returned radio to pocket, catching Zoe's approach in his peripheral vision.
"Still no word from the captain?" Zoe asked, leaning on the bar.
"So far, so blank," Wash answered. "Don't know how much longer I can keep this up, though. You know I've had to fend off the attentions of at least three or four bar floozies looking to buy me another round?"
"Well, then," Zoe said, staring daggers into Wash's eyes. "Best we move on soon. Can't have you flying while intoxicated, now can we?"
"Dearheart, I'd never look to get drunk on but one thing in this 'verse," Wash promised.
The thought of a smile had just entered Zoe's mind when it was subsequently forced out by a sound that had become inordinately familiar aboard Serenity of late. These days, the sound - that of Simon's voice calling River's name - could be heard with such frequency that a certain member of the crew probably could become intoxicated by it, assuming the fuel fumes hadn't already made her tipsy by now. Looking past Wash, Zoe observed Simon hastening from the billiard hall behind River, whose pace was as impetuous as it was rapid.
"C'mon," she said quickly, grabbing Wash and Zoe's hands. "We've got to get out of here quick. The ringing, it's getting faster. Faster and closer." Her eyes darted upward, rushing from nowhere to nowhere along the ceiling.
"Ringing, what ringing?" Wash said, baffled out of his mind. Of Zoe he inquired, "Dear, we didn't pass any gongs along the way, did we?"
"It's too fast!" River insisted. "The faster the ringing gets, the closer they come and the sooner they'll find you. As soon as they find you they'll shake you to pieces. Once they make contact, they don't stop, not till they've lost it. Not till they've torn you apart completely."
"Okay, okay," Wash said, holding up his free hand in what was probably a futile attempt to placate her. "Before we all start hearing bells, why don't we try and reach some consensus on what exactly you're talking about."
"I don't like the sound of it, whatever it is," Zoe said grimly. "C'mon, let's see if we can't track down the captain."
As they exited the bar, with River in hurried lead, Simon glanced obliquely at Wash. "You suppose Mal will at least have a few contacts lined up by the time we catch up with him?" he asked conversationally, trying to sideline his worries about River.
"Oh, I'm sure he's got 'em stacked six deep in every joint he's hit," Wash said, his hands tossed as aloft as his voice.
***
Six deep or otherwise, Mal's contacts were already impelling him and his cronies, sans Inara, back along the main street toward Serenity. He instantly recognised the expression on Jayne's face - a look of complete cluelessness, resulting from a futile attempt to be thoughtful. Enlightenment and word-spreading aside, he was also growing to recognise what was on Book's mind just by reading him. Even at that, what Mal found most disquieting was what lay between the lines.
"All right, Mal," Jayne grunted. "Wanna give us the dope on how to de-mortalise this ghost train?"
"First let's wrap ourselves around one nice basic concept," Mal instructed firmly. "This ain't no ghost. It's as real as this job Carabella just offered us, this job we're in such dire need of if we're gonna keep flyin'. Now can we try and keep this notion foremost in the brain pan?"
"I think we've got some concerns almost as pressing in the midst of it all," Book advised.
"I hate it when you talk about pressing concerns," Jayne grumbled.
"Not overly fond of it my own self," Mal said. "You mind enlightening us on this one, Preacher?"
"While you were closing your deal, McCreedie and company didn't seem to mind me doing a little recreational reading," Book explained. "I came across one piece of work on Roma's greatest outlaws, and it's small wonder that it was the centerpiece of Carabella's literature collection. One of the last chapters was about a local mob kingpin named Marion Carabella, apparently quite the extortionist in these parts."
"Now how's a guy get any respect as a criminal with a name like Marion?" Jayne wondered rhetorically.
"Same way a guy gets any respect as a mercenary with a name like Jayne," Mal said with a knowing smirk, rewarded by an incendiary glare. "Reputation's the heart of the matter, my friend. This guy have any family ties we should know about?"
"Well, the book doesn't bear any mention of his children, but his death did coincide with the disappearance of the train," Book answered. "There were no obvious discrepancies between what I've read and what you've heard."
"Seems there was an awful lot of big words in it, though," Jayne said, glowering hintingly.
"The stories match," Mal said emphatically. "What the Shepherd read is in the same vein as what Carabella told us. The wording of both stories - "
"All right, all right," Jayne defended. "That still don't answer my question on how you're fixin' to dig this train out of whatever grave it's run into."
"Gotta find it first, then we can worry about the exhumation." Mal caught himself too late, aiming a sideways stare Book's way. "That ain't too much of a problem notion for you, is it, Preacher?"
"Strikes me unlikely that the crew of the train received a proper burial," Book said matter-of-factly. "It wouldn't hurt to at least say a few words for them."
"Well, I'll leave that part to you," Mal said. "And while you're at it, why don'tcha lift up some prayers that something more'll come to hand than picks and shovels."
"Hmm," Book said, looking about the street. "Now that you mention it, that casino district does seem to be the most affluent in the entire city - the entire planet, in fact. Carabella probably isn't the only high roller in town, or the only gangster, for that matter."
"So most of the offworld money comes into the casino district and stays there," Mal mused. "It figures the Alliance don't pay it no heed. Explains a thing or three about folks' standard of living, or lack thereof."
"I been formulatin' a thought here might make you say hmm," Jayne spoke up. "How's about we take the money and run?"
"Hmm," Mal said with a mocking undertone. "I'm tryin' hard not to faint here, Jayne, but you've had brighter ideas than that. Carabella's a mobster, and I ain't revisitin' the consequences of stealing from the gorram mob, dong ma?"
"Captain!"
Mal broke off, shooting a glance toward the other side of the street, somewhat gratified that whoever it was had called him by his title instead of his name. As it turned out, the call, appropriately enough, was from Zoe; she and the others - with River's face breaking into that unnervingly joyful grin of hers - were making haste across the street to join them.
"Captain, you all right?" Zoe asked.
"Where's Inara?" Simon chimed in.
"Yeah, we're fine," Mal said, brow creasing in confusion as to the source of Zoe's concern. "She's..."
"Out in the woods," River interrupted, smiling. "The gates came down and she couldn't go around. She doesn't know where she is, but she knows where to go, and she's cutting a path of her own. She's led you away from all that infernal ringing. The only ringing now is a constant cascade of platinum coin falling one on top of another, over and over again. The avalanche burying the treasure."
"These rambles of yours are gettin' freakishly accurate, little one," Mal murmured.
"Is that what that was all about?" Wash said in disbelief.
"Is that what what was all about?" Mal pried.
"It's nothing, sir," Zoe said dismissively. "But do I hear her right that we might have a job?"
"Only the latest in a long train," Mal said. "Let's get back to Serenity. I'm all for deliverin' the briefing in a nice cosy private atmo."
"You've got my vote," Wash said. "You ask me, these walls have ears. Besides, Kaylee's probably going kuang zhe de with those fumes by now."
"Aah, wouldn't worry none on little Kaylee," Jayne said non-committally. "Sure'n she's done work and havin' all sortsa fun with her battery-operated boyfriend."
***
If there was any non-living significant other completely occupying Kaylee's mind, it was powered not by batteries or rocket fuel or anything but steam. Even at that, she was less and less sure that this mechanical marvel was non-living; like Serenity, it had a life and a mind of its own, heat and breath and incredible strength. Fire roared in the great steel box ahead of the cab, fed by atomised oil from the tender and heating the water inside the engine's boiler to more than six hundred degrees. The faster it ran, the faster the thunder of its chugging exhaust, like the snorting and panting of a horse approaching full gallop. The ride was less than settling, but Kaylee barely noticed from her perch on a fold-out jump seat mounted on the front of the tender. The noise would have been unbearable to any layman, yet her pulse increased with excitement and kept time with the exhaust; even the briefest glance at the blinding white glare in the firebox sight glass left her blinking rapidly. Now Robert tugged at the whistle pull to clear a small dirt road that crossed the track, making Kaylee's heart sing along with the deep lilting wail from the three-chambered whistle.
"Here's where the fun begins!" Robert yelled over his shoulder, grinning. He reached forward, opened a small valve in front of him, and gripped the throttle lever tightly in both hands and yanked it sharply open. Kaylee clapped her hands, almost laughing for elation as the ruckus from the smokestack and the engine's instrumentation increased dramatically: their assault on the grade was come. Across the cab, the atomiser valve opened wide under the hand of Seth, the lanky, dark-haired fireman; and now the fire raged with such white-hot violence as could melt any unprotected metal.
"Hey, how fast is she goin' now?" Kaylee hollered.
"Oh..." Robert paused, cocking an ear to the blast from the exhaust. "Probably about forty, give or take. There was this one time I was fillin' in on the Octoro Division, got her up to a dollar five. Man, what I wouldn't give to have that run every day! Nice level stretch, no grades, no tight curves, nothin'! Just you and your engine tearin' the countryside in half!"
"Sounds like an all-right life!" Kaylee exclaimed. "I'm beginnin' to wish I was born someplace else, y'know?"
"I know," Robert nodded comprehensively. "Coulda had a chance to play at this if you were, eh?"
"Coulda, shoulda, woulda," Kaylee shrugged. At that particular moment she was wondering what life would be like if she had been born on Roma and gotten a chance to dirty her hands on a steam locomotive. Of course she loved Serenity like nothing else she'd ever laid tools on, but she couldn't help thinking - if this engine or something like it had crossed her path first, would Serenity even have existed for her?
By now the exhaust had reached nearly eight strokes per second, literally bringing her to the edge of her seat with the sheer exhilaration of it all. She let her eyes roam across the cab, drifting from the amalgam of gleaming control levers on Robert's side to the confounding rabble of gauges and valves on Seth's. Baffling as Kaylee found it, Seth seemed to know every valve's function instinctively, every gauge's reading relative to the engine's operation. He had not shut off the water injector since a mile's distance from the grade, but now the main steam gauge was rock steady at 250 pounds per square inch.
Kaylee was so absorbed in childlike awe that she didn't even realise Robert was calling her name until she looked back toward his side of the cab.
"Hm - huh?" she said, shaking herself out of it.
"C'mere for a minute," Robert said, beckoning. Kaylee alit from her seat, clinging firmly to grab irons as she picked her way across the heaving deck to his. He rose, patting the big throttle. "Wanna give her a try?"
"Do I - you - I mean - can I?" Kaylee stammered. All her wonderment at seeing the engine in action was obliterated at this unexpected, golden opportunity.
"Go for it," Robert grinned. "You want a chance to play at this, here it is." He glanced forward one last time to make sure the track was clear before stepping down. Grabbing at the nearest handholds, Kaylee, her heart nearly palpitating with excitement, clambered into his place and sat, unsure of what to do or even say.
The view was mind-boggling from here.
For the first time she could truly see how much action was happening at once, the thrash of the rods ceaselessly spinning the great drive wheels; the translucent plume of oil smoke shooting sky-high from the stack in time with the accelerating exhaust; the lateral jolting motions of the engine barely restrained by the wheel flanges against the rails. Staring past the huge barrel of the boiler at the track forthcoming, Kaylee didn't even notice Seth shaking his head with amusement. At that, she barely heard Robert's voice endowing her with instructions; the waves of heat radiating from the firebox were the only assurance she had that this wasn't a dream. The pace of her hands seemed to indicate otherwise as she listened to the directions, notched back the gear lever and cracked the throttle further open, felt the increasing speed of the wind against her face and through her free-flowing hair.
Then the difference set in.
It set in on more levels than Kaylee could count: physical, spiritual, emotional; but by far, the greatest difference was in her life. If only for this moment, she felt as if there was nothing else in the universe, no crew, no Serenity, no strange planet, no Alliance. There wasn't even anything or anyone behind her: there was just her, Kaywinnit Lee Frye, and this simple yet marvelous piece of machinery guided by her exhilarated hand: and there was the track ahead, upon which she and the steel behemoth jolted ever back and forth, leading the way to the most exciting and fascinating and beautiful new places she had ever seen.
***
Try as he might to expect anything to happen at any moment, Mal was not expecting to find Serenity locked up tight.
Fortunately, Zoe was possessed of the means to rectify this. Having made his way into the cargo hold, Mal was struck by another condition unanticipated - darkness and complete silence. Not even the most distant hint of a ratchet, a socket wrench, a needle scaler, a welder, or any other tool Mal could conjure; by all appearances, Serenity was deserted.
"Kaylee!" he hollered, his voice echoing about the bay. "What's the big idea, girl? Wash never gets it in his head to lock us out and then hide on us!"
"That's 'cause I'm married to the judge, jury and executioner," Wash interjected in a low voice.
"Heard that," Zoe said, marching around Wash with a love tap to his chest. "Sir, you said eighteen hundred - that's a few hours off yet. Could be Kaylee's just out enjoyin' the sunshine."
"Well, I ain't got it in me to waste any time on this job," Mal said dryly. He strode aft toward the common area, face turned to stone. "Kaylee! Gorrammit, where is that girl?"
Continued