There are zealots and preachers and readers of dreams / The righteous yell loudest and the saved rise to sing / The lonely and lost are just waiting to hear / Any moment their purpose will be perfectly clear

- Mary Chapin Carpenter/"The Calling"

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THE FIRST CLUE: HARVEST

Inara slipped quietly unto the bridge and paused a little just inside the door. Mal was in the pilot's seat, but judging by his laidback body language, River was the one flying the ship at the moment. She was perched at the edge of the co-pilot's seat, both hands on the stick, staring intently through the viewport; at what Inara wasn't sure. She saw no obstacles out there.

"So, Harvest?" she began, and almost kicked herself at the lame remark. Lately she'd seemed to be losing her ability to strike up conversation casually.

Mal glanced back at her. "Seems like. We'll be there in five days."

"Four," River corrected him.

Mal frowned at her. "Four? What route did you plot?" He leaned over and brought up the charts on the Cortex screen. His eyes widened. "How the hell did you come up with this?" he exclaimed.

"I didn't," River replied. "He did."

"Who?"

"Wash."

"Wash?" Mal echoed before he seemed to realize what she meant. "Ah, you're using his notes. Well, we can't go that way."

"Why not?"

"Because," he pointed to the screen, "it'll take us straight through the Motherload asteroid belt! Now, that was a walk in the park for Wash, but I can't maneuver this boat through that."

"I can," she simply replied.

He just stared at her for few seconds. "How'd you know? You've never tried!"

"It's all numbers."

"Oh yeah," Mal mumbled. "Killing us with mathematics." He raised his voice. "Not g