An hour later and Alex’s ship was warmed over and ready to go, just waiting on its two most important passengers to shake it off and get back on board.

There was a curious reluctance to say goodbye, and even Dillon found himself giving in to a little procrastination.

“Is Kaylee really going to be okay?” he asked, glancing towards the lower crew quarters, where Simon was checking out his wife for the third time that day. He’d already leaned in and said his farewells, and putting his request to be godfather to that little one too.

“Simon’s good,” Mal said. “And he’s her husband. He’s not going to let anything happen to her, or that baby.”

“Good. Tell him, if he needs anything, just to wave me.”

“I will.”

Dillon looked towards the cargo bay where Freya was saying goodbye to Alex. “I’d better get going, otherwise that man’s likely to leave without me.”

“Serves you right for being too tight to hire your own ship.”

Dillon glared at him. “He was … convenient.”

“More’n that. River says he saved her life.”

“Then I really don’t want to keep him waiting.”

“I’d be beholden if you did. Just for a few minutes.”

The older man was surprised by Mal’s diffidence. “What is it?” he asked, allowing himself to be ushered to the seats in the common area. He waited until the captain had lowered himself, very carefully, into the armchair, sighing as parts of his body that he didn’t even know existed complained. “What can I do for you, Mal?”

“Niska spoke of an Emil Quintana. Simon doesn’t know anything about him, and there’s not much on the Cortex. Feel like doing a little research?”

Dillon nodded slowly. “Sure. It’s not a name I know either, but it’s unusual enough. I see what I can find out.”

“Thanks.” But still Mal didn’t seem to be finished.

“What?” The older man laughed. “It’s not like you to be so reticent.”

“We need a viral replicator.”

Dillon’s eyebrows raised. “What?”

“Niska might have been a psychopath and a sadist, but he was good for one thing. He g