"It would be nice to think so."

"But if you ever start thinking you're very wise, you'll become secretly not wise."

"That is the catch. The best one there is, in fact."

"It's some catch, that catch twenty-two."

"Ah, a fellow scholar of the antiquities! That book is almost as old as this one." He taps his Bible.

Shrug. "I like to read."

"Catch-22 is less than a thousand years old," River says, rolling her eyes. "The Bible's way older, unless you just mean a specific translation or canonization."

"Just about contemporary to me then, isn't it?"

She squints at him.

"You don't look like an immortal elf. Or a vampire."

"Hm, I must have lost touch with the younger generation in the abbey. Time was everyone under twenty thought everyone over forty grew up scratching sticks together in a cave."

"Oh, no, raising kids in caves is the latest childcare trend," she says, entirely deadpan. "The ultimate way to get them off their screens. It's the old people who have all the technology."

"I see," he says gravely.

"We were abandoned by our parents with the babysitter, Ms Wolf, though, so maybe other families did it differently," she says, just as gravely.

"I will continue to be open to new information, then."

Bright grin. "New information is the best."

Smile. "Indeed."

She grins and goes back to curling into her sister.

Sara Frye returns after a bit, with a fourth passenger.

Who introduces himself as Lawrence Dobson - a bit awkwardly - and doesn't seem inclined to chatter as Sara heads into the cargo bay a bit.

Not that he has much time to stand there looking uncomfortable - three women walk up shortly after, heading for the ship. The one in the lead has the odd sort of smooth-aged appearance that some of the life extensions based in gene therapy get in middle age. She's wearing a somewhat worn brown trench coat that doesn't do much to conceal the pistol holstered at her waist (not that her companions are concealing their guns even a little), her other clothes equally weathered - though she has a bright red floral scarf peeking out from under her shirt, which looks much nicer than the rest of her outfit. 

"You four looking for passage?" she asks once she's in comfortable talking range (fairly close, with how noisy the docks are), her two companions stopping a few steps behind her.

"That's right."

After general confirmations from the others: "I'm Bina Miryala, Captain of the Serenity there. We're heading into the Rim, to the Athens system - planned stop at Whitefall, but there's some other technically inhabited moons there we might swing by. After that, we're looping towards Neza. We won't be coming back towards the Border for a while, and we don't have a set itinerary, so if you've got somewhere specific to be in a hurry, this probably isn't the best ride for you."

"That will suit fine, Captain."

She nods. "Okay."

"Some ground rules - basic ship safety. Don't open doors or containers marked as crew only unless I or my second mate, Zoe Washburne," she gestures behind her to the woman on her right, "Say you can. Don't try to get into or through anything locked. Don't fire guns, set off explosives, use fireworks, light fires, or anything similar on ship without permission. If you need a match or a lighter - don't. Even if it's a tiny candle and this is your super important religious ritual." And then a list of things they are definitely not to touch unless told otherwise or there's an emergency.

"And if me, Zoe, or Sara Frye tell you to do something, do it."

Nod. Simple enough.