“Simon! Knock me out!”

“What? River –”

“They can hear me!”

“What are you –”

She didn’t wait for him, but grabbed his medbag, pulling a hypo from it and injecting it into her neck. Simon wasn’t fast enough to stop her, only to catch her as she collapsed bonelessly to the floor.

“Simon?” Kaylee asked, grasping Bethany to her, her face stained with tears and terror. “What did she mean?”

“I don’t know,” her husband admitted, staring at his sister. “Unless …”

-

Two days earlier …

“He’s an old friend.”

“How good an old friend?” Mal looked up from his post-breakfast coffee. “I seem to recall what an old friend did once before.” He glanced at Freya, sitting with Bethany on her lap in one of the easy chairs, the little girl patting the mound at her waist.

“Baby,” Bethany said. “Baby. Auntie Frey.”

Freya smiled, putting her own hand on top.

“This is a real friend,” Simon explained. “Not like Eric Lon. Andrew Brooks is the man I went into medicine for. He inspired me, even as a boy.”

“How long’s it been since you seen him?” Zoe asked, stirring her coffee by the counter.

“Seven, eight years. But we kept in touch right up until I got my sister out of the Academy.”

“Does he know about that?” Mal waved his mug at the young doctor. “If there’s any likelihood he’s gonna call the Feds –”

“He wouldn’t do that!” Simon insisted. “I never told him anyway.”

“It’s not exactly been kept private that you’re both fugitives,” Hank pointed out. “It might be a while since they’ve been actively looking for you, but …”

“I know. But I trust Andrew.”

Mal sat back. “Well, we’re a long way from civilization out here. What made him decide to set up shop in this neck of the woods?”

“Just that. The last time I spoke to him he’d wanted to do some good while he still had the chance. He’s not a young man, Mal, and I think he found working in a hospital somehow … unfulfilling.”

“Treating all those nasty burns from candlelight suppers?”

Simon refused to rise to