PART FOUR

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It's asking for the taking.

Trembling, shaking.

Oh, my heart is aching.

We're coming to the edge,

Running on the water,

Coming through the fog,

Your sons and daughters.

We the great and small

Stand on a star

And blaze a trail of desire

Through the dark'ning dawn.

It's asking for the taking.

Come run with me now,

The sky is the color of blue

You've never even seen

In the eyes of your lover.

We're coming to the edge,

Running on the water,

Coming through the fog,

Your sons and daughters.

Let the river run,

Let all the dreamers

Wake the nation.

Come, the New Jerusalem.

*

Carly Simon - Let The River Run

*

[This chapter is/was firmly inspired by a recent trip to Egypt]

*

Alexandria. Possibly the dustiest and sandiest spaceport in the 'verse. Endless-looking brown and yellow cliffs and dunes punctuated by a big slab of metal and concrete. Relentlessly utilitarian, basic, rusty around the edges. Sun bouncing off the metal and concrete; making the wearing of sunglasses a necessity. Everything – including the workers and foliage – looks in need of a good wash and oiling. Definitely not the prettiest port in the 'verse. The workers in Alexandria are all dark-skinned and clad in either kaftans, utilikilts or loincloths with big brimmed hats or turbans. Serenity is duly booked in for a service, the log and inventory are handed in, chickens safely relocated and the crew and children are striking out with their luggage and documents towards the paddle steamer they've booked passage on for a 'holiday trip' down to Edfu.

Jayne was grumbling, “Don't like these go se sissified cotton trews!” His pants were white and fairly voluminous with a matching loose top. He'd even condescended to wear a wide brimmed sunhat.

Vera smiled at him in a conciliatory fashion, “Well, you *could have worn the kaftan. All the other men on Serenity are.” She'd gone for the ankle-length white cotton kaftan look, as had all the women on bard.

Jayne's glower deepened, “Ya know what I think about wear