“I’m sorry.”

Jethro looked up from the chair in the common area. River was coming down the stairs, her soft dress floating around her. He stood up, wincing at the pain in his ribs. “River, I don’t know what the rest of the crew is used to, but I don’t like being … violated like that.”

“They don’t like it either,” she admitted quietly.

“Then why do you do it?” He was honestly curious.

“What people say, the gestures they make …they can lie. All my life people have lied to me. But in your thoughts, below the mundane and the everyday, there’s the truth.”

“Don’t you trust anyone?”

“I’ve had little cause to.” She sat down, pulling her legs under her.

“That sounds terrible.”

“It was.” She looked down at her hands. “Here, on this ship, are the only people I trust.” She glanced into his face. “I want to trust you too.”

He stared at her, so young, but with the weight of centuries apparently on her shoulders. He joined her on the old sofa. “Then I should apologise as well. I didn’t understand.” He shook his head slightly. “I still don’t.”

“Then we’re both sorry.” She smiled up at him, but it was only tentative. “There’s so much you don’t know about me, and …”

“And what?” he prompted.

“I'm afraid you won’t like me if I tell you.”

“Why wouldn’t I like you?” She looked so sad that he reached out and put his hand on her knee. “I'm sure there’s nothing you can tell me that would matter that much.”

“I don’t think I can tell you.”

“You don’t have to. But I was going to be a Shepherd, River. I can keep secrets.”

“That isn’t why.”

“Then what?”

She shook her head firmly. “Not yet.”

He sighed. “I know you’re psychic. What else can there be?”

“So much …” Her eyes unfocused as images of death and destruction filled her mind. Blood, hers and others, on metal probes, on a black and white floor …

-

The explosion had ripped open the entire length of the cargo bay, which ran from bow to stern of the ship, spilling her contents into space. Most of i