“Mara Tam’s on Hera.” River’s words dropped into space like nuggets of frozen lava.

“What tyen shiao duh is this?” Gabriel demanded, his face losing the colour he’d gained. “Mara’s dead.”

Mal didn’t answer him, just looked out of the infirmary at Hank. “How long if we burn it?” he asked.

Hank’s mind did the calculations for him in a split. “Five days.”

“Get a course laid in. Try and make it out of sight of the Alliance, but as soon as you can.”

“On it,” the pilot said, running full pelt up the stairs.

Mal felt fingers clutch at his arm, tugging him around. “I don’t take kindly to be handled,” he said, glaring at Gabriel, prying the older man loose.

“And I don’t take kindly to being ignored. What is all this nonsense about Mara?”

“Mr Tam, it ain’t nonsense.”

River let go of Jayne’s hand and stepped into the infirmary, approaching the medbed. “She’s the psychic, Father.”

“That’s crazy.” His mouth set into a stubborn line as one of the monitors he was on began to beep faster.

Simon prepared a syringe, just in case.

Mal shrugged. “Yep, I’d say it was, but no more so than someone creating Reavers. And from past experience I’d have to say she’s been right more’n she’s been wrong.”

Gabriel shook his head. “Mara Tam died. She was twelve.” He looked into River’s face. “We went to her funeral, for heaven’s sake.”

River almost smiled. Almost the same words Simon had used when he found out. “Not her body,” she said quietly. “Stolen. Cut into and made into something else. Something that controls Reavers. My twin.”

Gabriel stared. “River, you don’t have a twin.”

“Yes, I do. Duplicated. Copied.”

“I don’t understand.”

Simon wasn’t quite so circumspect. “You recommended the agency, didn’t you? The one you bought us from.” He ignored Regan’s little cry of horror. “Blue Sun controlled, wasn’t it? And they were playing God with the children. They used the same combination for Mara as for River. No wonder they looked so alike when they were