Following Captain Reynolds’ orders, Simon saw to his sister and returned to the cargo hold. Sessions and the captain were seated on crates facing each other. Their visitor sat with one leg stretched out stiffly in front of him. Zoë and Sessions’ companions stood nearby, watchful, and Jayne remained on the catwalk with his rifle butt on his hip.

The captain saw Simon and beckoned, then pointed to a crate. “It’s clear you two know each other, but he won’t talk without you here. I find that somewhat of a comfort, shows he thinks a man’s trust is worth keeping. But I want to know how you came to be in cahoots.”

Simon sat heavily. “He’s a member of the Underground, the group that got River out of the Academy.”

“Technically, no,” the man said. “Sympathizer, but I was hired for the job, glad as I was to do it.” He turned to Simon. “But I got a feeling things went to hell after I gave that box up to you. You opened it early, didn’t you? Why didn’t you follow my gorram directions?” He scowled. “I understand you being eager, but did you think I told you to keep her cold for another week just for the hell of it? With me not knowing where you were taking her, or how soon you’d arrive?”

A horrid suspicion took root. Simon glanced at the captain and saw a matching sentiment reflected on his face. “It was out of my hands. Why was it important?”

“We put her in that box,” Sessions said, “but she was in cryo when we stole her. They always chill the kids after surgery, sometimes for weeks. Cryo slows the healing process, eases the shock or something, lets their minds adjust to the changes.” He turned his head towards the passage leading to the infirmary and passenger country, now silent. “If she’d stayed in the full time, and you’d flushed their damn drugs out of her… well, she might have got confused from time to time, and for sure she’d have been witless when she first warmed up. But that would have been the worst of it. That poor girl’s paying a hell of a price for your impatience, I’m thinking.”

“It wasn’t imp