144: Fic - The Emptiness of the Black
“Who’s there?”
Simon stifled a sigh. “It’s me, Captain. Simon.”
“Glad you made that clear, Doc. Weren’t like I could tell you by your voice.” Mal sounded coolly amused, standing in the half-light. He leaned on the handrail of the walkway. “Everything ok?”
“Sure.” Simon looked up at him. ”Just clearing my head.” He gestured out of the porthole.
Mal jerked his head in a nod. “The black can be mighty soothing.”
Simon’s gaze drifted back to the darkness. “It makes me realize how insignificant the problems of two people are. Nothing really matters, does it?”
There was a beat of silence. “’Nara put River to bed. Said she explained what those backwoods folk wanted and how you tended to their sick. Mighty brave.”
“Brave?” Simon couldn’t keep the confusion out of his voice.
“Not thinking of your own self. Keeping them from hurting your sister. Like when you saved her from those hundans at the Academy.”
“She’s all I have.” Simon’s voice was steady. “She’s all I’ve ever had.”
Mal shrugged. “People is all there is.”
“I agree.” Simon cleared his throat. “A shame my parents didn’t teach us that lesson.”
At Mal’s confused look, he tilted his head. “I knew there was something wrong with River, almost from the first moment that she arrived at the Academy. Her letters were so strange.”
He paused, the tip of his tongue touching his upper lip. “My parents didn’t see it. It would have caused a frisson, you see, if they had brought her home after boring their friends to tears with tales of her genius and the exciting curriculum at her new, prestigious school.”
Mal said nothing, but his face had stiffened.
“We were window-dressing to their perfect life. A surgeon son and a clever daughter.” He shook his head. “There was nothing so distasteful in our world as an arranged marriage, but my parents had started to invite for supper most often those with marriageable sons.”
“Sounds shiny.” Mal’s tone was ironic.
Simon met Mal’s eyes, and there was something approaching sympathy on the older man’s face.
“It’s unfamiliar to me, knowing that someone will risk their safety for mine.” Hands behind his back, he tipped his head forward; sketching the kind of bow that he had made, a lifetime ago, to his father’s friends and associates. “I am grateful.”
“You’re on my crew.” Mal’s words were automatic, but they carried their own balm.
“You’ve never left a man behind, have you?”
“Not since Serenity Valley. Sometimes you don’t get a choice. Since that day, I’ve always had that choice.” It was a superstitious answer, a verbal crossing of the fingers against the possibility that he might one day have to leave one his crew to a certain death.
Mal’s gaze flickered over Simon. “Seems to me that it’s right handy having a doc in the company. Damn shame your parents couldn’t see that using your hands to fix up another person was a thing of pride all to itself, no matter what their fancy friends thought of it.”
Simon felt himself blush.
“Best get some shuteye, Doc. There’s work to be done tomorrow.”
Mal clanked along the walkway in the direction of the bridge and Simon was suddenly aware of the ache in his back and legs that came from an honest day’s work. A day of intensive doctoring, even if it was for the members of a repressive religious cult.
As he climbed stiffly up towards the walkway, and his bunk, he decided that tomorrow he would scrub out the infirmary and take an inventory. Work out what supplies he would need to keep patching up the crew, so he could get the Captain to agree their purchase next time they were on a planet that sold them. Planned for a little slice of future.
Simon stifled a sigh. “It’s me, Captain. Simon.”
“Glad you made that clear, Doc. Weren’t like I could tell you by your voice.” Mal sounded coolly amused, standing in the half-light. He leaned on the handrail of the walkway. “Everything ok?”
“Sure.” Simon looked up at him. ”Just clearing my head.” He gestured out of the porthole.
Mal jerked his head in a nod. “The black can be mighty soothing.”
Simon’s gaze drifted back to the darkness. “It makes me realize how insignificant the problems of two people are. Nothing really matters, does it?”
There was a beat of silence. “’Nara put River to bed. Said she explained what those backwoods folk wanted and how you tended to their sick. Mighty brave.”
“Brave?” Simon couldn’t keep the confusion out of his voice.
“Not thinking of your own self. Keeping them from hurting your sister. Like when you saved her from those hundans at the Academy.”
“She’s all I have.” Simon’s voice was steady. “She’s all I’ve ever had.”
Mal shrugged. “People is all there is.”
“I agree.” Simon cleared his throat. “A shame my parents didn’t teach us that lesson.”
At Mal’s confused look, he tilted his head. “I knew there was something wrong with River, almost from the first moment that she arrived at the Academy. Her letters were so strange.”
He paused, the tip of his tongue touching his upper lip. “My parents didn’t see it. It would have caused a frisson, you see, if they had brought her home after boring their friends to tears with tales of her genius and the exciting curriculum at her new, prestigious school.”
Mal said nothing, but his face had stiffened.
“We were window-dressing to their perfect life. A surgeon son and a clever daughter.” He shook his head. “There was nothing so distasteful in our world as an arranged marriage, but my parents had started to invite for supper most often those with marriageable sons.”
“Sounds shiny.” Mal’s tone was ironic.
Simon met Mal’s eyes, and there was something approaching sympathy on the older man’s face.
“It’s unfamiliar to me, knowing that someone will risk their safety for mine.” Hands behind his back, he tipped his head forward; sketching the kind of bow that he had made, a lifetime ago, to his father’s friends and associates. “I am grateful.”
“You’re on my crew.” Mal’s words were automatic, but they carried their own balm.
“You’ve never left a man behind, have you?”
“Not since Serenity Valley. Sometimes you don’t get a choice. Since that day, I’ve always had that choice.” It was a superstitious answer, a verbal crossing of the fingers against the possibility that he might one day have to leave one his crew to a certain death.
Mal’s gaze flickered over Simon. “Seems to me that it’s right handy having a doc in the company. Damn shame your parents couldn’t see that using your hands to fix up another person was a thing of pride all to itself, no matter what their fancy friends thought of it.”
Simon felt himself blush.
“Best get some shuteye, Doc. There’s work to be done tomorrow.”
Mal clanked along the walkway in the direction of the bridge and Simon was suddenly aware of the ache in his back and legs that came from an honest day’s work. A day of intensive doctoring, even if it was for the members of a repressive religious cult.
As he climbed stiffly up towards the walkway, and his bunk, he decided that tomorrow he would scrub out the infirmary and take an inventory. Work out what supplies he would need to keep patching up the crew, so he could get the Captain to agree their purchase next time they were on a planet that sold them. Planned for a little slice of future.