“I’m not the man you were.”

“Nope.”

“That’s not helpful.”

“Sorry, was I supposed to be?”

“Yeah. Tell me how you survived this.”

“You think I …” There was a chuckle. “If it hadn’t been for Zoe I’d be dead. Well, dead before I actually … you know … died. So would Mal.”

“I’m too weak.”

“It ain’t weakness, Hank. Just humanity. Something these creeps are sadly lacking in.” There was a pause. “So what do you think Mal would do?”

“Spit in his eye?”

“Damn straight.”

“I don’t know that I’ve got any spit left.”

“Metaphorically, then.”

“Oh, that I can probably manage.”

“Hank, my cupcake needs you. Be strong for her.”

“I’ll try.”

“Good lad.”

“They’re here,” Donaldson said.

“Shit,” Hank groaned.

“I second that,” Wash admitted, his voice fading away.

---

They’d barely spoken more than a dozen words since they’d detached the shuttle from Serenity and flown it back to Wayborn Skyplex. Now Zoe and Freya were walking through the crowds towards the centre of the complex, ignoring the vendors calling out to them, pushing through knots of people to get to their goal.

Hustle and bustle gave way to people huddled in small groups, their clothes old and ragged, no money to go anywhere so eking out some kind of living on the edge. Then only crates and dust.

“You really think he’s here?” Zoe asked.

“I don’t know.” Freya was watching ahead of them.

“How come you can’t feel him?”

“I can’t always. Even when I was … before the Naxom … it was hard to reach out to people sometimes.”

“River can’t either.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s dead,” Freya said quickly, knowing that was worrying Mal’s closest friend.

“I know.”

“Yet you can’t quite believe it.”

“I don’t see why anyone would take him in the first place.”

Freya stopped, putting her hand on Zoe’s arm, making her halt too. “When I was … when Wing … Hank believed for me. Believe for him now.”

“I do,” Zoe insisted. “But I’ve been proved wrong too many times.” She walked on. “He’s not lik