Big Damn Hero

28

Kaylee looked for work to occupy her mind. There was no end of that to be found aboard Serenity, but the distraction of a simple, involving task wasn’t always sufficient. As she started lubricating a flanged coupler gasket on the transverse manipulator hose, digging her fingers into a bucket of grease, the cogs in her head resumed their unhappy, circular turning.

After Serenity had been flying for an hour with the cargo-bay door wide open, Kaylee and Jayne had donned spacesuits and gone down to check on the condition of the payload. Exposed to the -270 °C chill of the deep Black, ambient condensation now coated everything in the cargo bay — every surface, every deck plate, bulkhead and piece of machinery — with a shimmering, onionskin-thin layer of frost. It was like being inside a twinkling, multifaceted jewel.

The only objects in the entire place that were clear of ice were the crates of HTX-20 themselves. Their warmth had prevented the frost from forming on them. But a quick scan had shown Kaylee that the explosives within had cooled considerably, almost back to the temperature they’d originally been at when they’d come aboard. It had worked! And that was all the more remarkable an achievement because it was an idea suggested by Jayne Cobb.

Kaylee had closed the cargo-bay door, and atmo had slowly begun hissing back into the ship’s bowels.

Now she wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand, smearing a band of grease across it. She was worried sick about Mal, and would start to sniffle quietly every time she thought about what he might be suffering — the more so when she allowed herself to entertain the notion that he might already be dead and lost to them forever. There was still no word from Book or Inara. Still no update on Mal’s likely whereabouts. And on top of that, Kaylee was afraid that the crew wouldn’t be able to survive this dangerous mission without Mal’s guidance. He had a way of seeing past trouble and finding a path to safety, even in the direst of situations.

Zoë’s voice crackled through the comm. “Kaylee, we need you to recheck the cargo, make sure it’s stopped simmering.”

Kaylee cleaned her hands on a rag and tossed it in the general direction of the trash can. She didn’t really want to go back near the explosives, but at least it was something to do.