Author's Note: Mangaverse - post manga. A few canon spoilers are included. Although I have tried to make this tale stand-alone, it is a sequel to "Seeds" and does intertwine a little with my earliest "VQL" stories.

Disclaimer: I don't own Trigun [Maximum], or Vash, Luida, Brad, Jessica, or any of the other characters in the manga / anime series. They all belong to Mr. Yasuhiro Nightow.

My own inventions include: Lumia, Larissa, Shyla Jones, Lisa Reeve, and the other Reeve family members.

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Fatherless

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Year 0932 month 2 day 16, early morning

Occasionally, No Man's Land has sandstorms so severe that any travel out of doors is a risk to one's life. The speed of the wind gusts, and the density of the sands blown about by them, causes zero visibility. Those wind gusts have the strength to blow people about irresistibly. Any one who is foolish enough to go out, during a storm of that intensity, is likely to be blown into some deadly peril – such as the mighty sand powder sea – and never be seen again.

In the year 0932, during month 2, on day 16, during an exceptionally severe sandstorm, Lisa Reeve was bored. She hadn't slept the prior night, because of the noise of the wind and because of worrying about her brother.

Her favorite aunt, Lumietta, had been visiting and was also trapped in the house. Aunt Lumietta had done her best to entertain Lisa and her family through the long hours of the evening. Eventually, all but Lisa had fallen asleep.

Since she continued to be sleepless, Lisa began poking around through her family's storage room. She saw something unfamiliar toward the back on a high shelf. It turned out to be a book wrapped in soft leather, and then in a thick cloth. When she unwrapped it, Lisa discovered that she was holding a very old diary.

The name written inside the cover matched the name on a prominent gravestone that Lisa remembered seeing in the family cemetery. That gravestone, she had been told, stood over the remains of an ancestor who'd lived centuries ago. She had been a leader in the village, a Councilwoman.

Luida had helped to guide the village during extremely difficult times, when there had been a serious danger that all of humanity might potentially be destroyed. That ancient threat was real, and not an invention of hysteria or panic. In fact, the danger had been disbelieved by most until it was nearly too late.

It was said that nearly all hope had been lost, until one man had stepped forward and defeated the source of the peril. He had nearly died from it, but he had saved them all. Then he had vanished without a trace.

History didn't usually interest Lisa, but an ancestor who lived in those times... well, that was different.

She curled up on an old quilt, tucked an errant strand of carrot-colored hair behind one ear, opened the diary near the beginning, and began reading.

...

Year 119, month 6 day 8

Lumia came home from school today, crying because someone had said cruel things about her apparent lack of a father. She kept our secret, but it hurt her to hear such words.

It hurt me, too, though I comforted her as well as I could while crying along with her.

Although the circumstances surrounding my daughters' births were highly unusual, I have done my best to make sure that their early lives were not too different from anyone else's. At least, I hope that their lives were as normal as anyone else's whose father had a traveling job that kept him away from home.

I made a nuisance of myself, contacting other families with children of roughly equivalent stages of development, so that my daughters would have others to play and grow with. I did not want them to be as isolated as I had often been, as a bashful only child with only one parent.

In my own case, the missing parent had died. Everyone knew this, and any children who harassed me were firmly quelled.

My daughters, however, face a different set of circumstances. Very few know who their father is, since that information is considered a state secret. Even the man himself is still completely unaware that he has any children, though I hope that he will one day be cured of that ignorance. Perhaps the council will permit this after I am dead.

Though my daughters have been compelled to grow up without regular contact with their father, this was not his fault. If he could have been available for them, he would have. He is perhaps the most gentle, caring and responsible man on this entire planet.

He is the kind of man who will defend lives at any cost.

I have written these things before, but I will repeat them again lest they be forgotten.

Both girls were conceived without any direct interaction between their father and myself. Samples of his seed had been extracted, while he was badly injured and unconscious, in our village's hospital. Those samples were frozen. At the time the samples were taken, there were no plans to use them for anything except monitoring his health, and comparing prior samples to others that might be taken in the future.

We would never have used his seed without his prior consent, if we had not fully believed that he was dead at the time. To think that he might have died, with no one to carry on his legacy... this was too painful for any of us to bear. He deserved that small touch of immortality that comes from having children to live on after him. Under circumstances like those, concerning a man who was so good, how could we not try?

I volunteered to bear his child, when the council was still in the early stages of trying to decide if providing him with a post-humus child should even be attempted. Fortunately, the council agreed. That first time, we kept doing injections until Lumia was conceived. My eldest daughter was born on the 17th day of the eighth month of the year 0111, nearly a year after the crater first appeared in the fifth moon.

My daughters' father is not an ordinary human. He is something more than human: he is a member of the extraordinary race that is commonly called "Plants." I have never heard of a Plant who died of old age, though they can be killed or else worked to death.

Injuries, heartbreak, and fear for the safety of others had driven him into hiding directly after that large crater formed on the fifth moon. What drove him out of hiding was a need to protect us ordinary humans from another Plant, one who had both the desire and ability to destroy all of humanity. We had no other defense: he was our only hope. He knew this as well as we did.

Lumia was slightly more than a year old when her father reappeared. Back then, there were several very good reasons to keep the identity of Lumia's immediate ancestry a secret from everyone. We could not risk the murderous Plant learning about her, for he would certainly have come after her if he had known whose child she is. Her parentage was even concealed from her father. Though I wished it could be otherwise, that was the only prudent course at the time.

For over a year, her father continued his fight against that genocidal madman. He'd fought that same enemy previously, for over a century. He knew full well that opposing that enemy risked his own life. Yet this knowledge did not prevent him from giving his all to protect us. That's the kind of man he is.

His efforts, that cost him so much, saved many lives: quite probably all of humanity. He also saved many Plants, who would otherwise have been worked to death in the process of destroying us. He is the one person who did the most, and risked the most, to cause the peace that now exists between humans and Plants. He nearly died in that process, because he gave so much in such a short time. The respect that our village held for him only increased, because of these deeds.

Through no fault of his own, the father of my daughters was again driven into hiding. He hid himself extremely well, immediately after a battle in which he was known to be very badly injured. It seemed likely that he had disappeared because he was dying, and did not wish to burden anyone... or risk anyone, since members of his race sometimes release incredible amounts of energy at death.

Plants can sense very strong emotions from other Plants from any distance. Lumia, though only half Plant, had sensed strong feelings from her father a few times before he disappeared. Even when there was no specific emotional echo, there was usually a faint undercurrent of his existence. The complete absence of any such awareness after his disappearance was another reason why we had thoroughly believed he was dead.

As we mourned the loss of this incredible man, we chose to give Lumia a sibling. It is highly likely that, even as a half-Plant, Lumia would live considerably longer than any ordinary human would. Providing her with a sibling, since it seemed that she had lost her father, seemed kinder to her than leaving her alone in the world after I grew old and died.

Because of this decision and effort, during a time when we again believed her father was dead, Larissa was conceived. She was born when Lumia was three and a half years old, on the 8th day of the second month of the year 0115.

Sheriff Central had placed a high bounty on the head of my girls' father. Greedy bounty-hunters are not the most kind-hearted souls on No Man's Land. They have been known to take as hostages the friends and family of those they hunt, or to set traps in their homes. They are also known to be careless of their aim, when they shoot. So, to protect our village, he stayed away. The combination of his absence, and his complete silence, had convinced everyone here that he was dead.

Only six weeks before Larissa's birth, her father's location was somehow simultaneously discovered by lawmen, bounty hunters and news reporters. For perhaps an hour, they drove him out of hiding. Had it not been for the aforementioned circumstance being broadcast on satellite television, none of us would have known that he still lived.

Immediately after evading the lawmen, bounty hunters and reporters, he vanished again. History will tell you that he was never seen nor heard from again.

However, that is not how his story ends.

A voice message came over satellite radio a few months later, on the 3rd day of the fifth month of year 0115. "Search not in silent years." His message was too brief to trace, doubtless by intent. Additionally, he'd somehow made it appear to come from every satellite orbiting the planet. Clearly, he planned to vanish for a number of years, for his safety and ours. He did not wish us to search for him.

Aside from an obvious imposter, there were not even rumors of him. Nor did Lumia sense the faintest trace of any awareness of him. He must have been containing his emotions and mental emanations severely, from concern of discovery by others of his kind.

We knew that one Plant from earth was at least somewhat hostile toward him. We did not know if that other, homicidal Plant, still lived. If one could be quiet enough to evade detection, the other might be doing the same.

After four years of complete silence, another message came over the satellite radio a few weeks ago on the 3rd day of the fifth month, year 119. It was also apparently coming from all the satellites at the same time, and far too brief to trace even without that interference.

"Lumia's friend is safe," his message said.

He didn't know that she is his daughter. He only knew what I had told him: that she is my daughter, and that she is grateful because he saved her life when our village was attacked. He knows that she wants him to be proud of how she is spending her life, since she would not be alive except for him – he is the one who saved her from the attackers.

I am a member of our village's Council. He knew that any message to Lumia would also reach me. He was telling both of us, and possibly the Council through me, that he had found a safe place to stay. This news was extremely welcome, though bittersweet. It meant we might not see him again for many long years.

Even though I knew he did not wish us to search for him, I could not entirely obey such a wish. I have ordered all of our people in other towns to keep watching for him, and to be ready to immediately give him any assistance that he might need.

When my girls are with their tutors, and I have no greater priorities, I am often found in the satellite communication center. I keep checking the paths of all orbiting satellites. It took some effort, but I managed to trace the precise time of his transmission. Something had been done, probably by him, to make it very difficult to learn the exact time of the transmission. That should help throw off other pursuit, by those who knew him less well.

I began considering probabilities, based on the locations where the satellites were when his message came. He would surely avoid places where he might be recognized, or where the sheriff departments were likely to be highly alert. Large towns were unlikely, for he could not blend well into a crowd no matter how hard he tried. A remote place, that might not pay as much attention to the doings of the rest of the world, was far more probable.

I slowly began to narrow down, by process of elimination, possible locations. My best efforts to avoid worrying about him kept failing. I could not even find peace through prayer, which had often helped me in the past. So I hoped to find him, and see him. Even if I could not speak to him or touch him, even if it must be from across the street, I desperately craved to see him alive with my own eyes.

One exact transmission time, measured against satellite orbiting paths, was not quite enough information to learn what I wished to know. I was compelled to wait, and hope. I kept the map on my person, so no one else could see it. It was bad enough that I disobeyed his wish. I would not assist others in doing the same.

...

Lisa lightly scanned and mostly skipped over several pages.

Those pages seemed to talk only about the daily lives of the two girls, and their schoolwork. Lumia studied medicine; Larissa studied engineering with respect to the care and maintenance of Plants.

Those things didn't interest their descendant. Many pages were flipped past, unappreciated. Lisa was beginning to consider setting the diary aside, when she saw something that again captured her attention, in an entry dated several years after the first.

...

Year 0127, month 6, day 10

He is clever, this father of my daughters. He somehow persuaded every satellite around this planet to claim itself as the source of his voice transmissions, each time he sent one of his very brief messages. He has now done this four times.

"Search not in silent years," was the first message he used to trick the satellite network back in 0115.

Thereafter, once every four years, another message came. "Lumia's friend is safe" in 0119, "Lumia's friend stays silent" in 0123, and "safety in silence," in 0127, were the other messages he sent. Each came on the third day of the fifth month, exactly four years apart. I obtained recordings of all four messages, and we played one each evening after dinner. I want my girls to know their father's voice.

Orbiting satellites move at different speeds. Based on the transmission times, and eliminating all satellites that were near or over large cities, I have narrowed down the likely locations. There are only four small towns, which are reasonably remote, near the paths of the various satellites at the times of his last three transmissions. It seems highly likely to me that he must have moved after sending the first message, so I did not include it in my calculations.

Two of those likely towns already have our people in them. Those towns are so small that our people would have seen him if he were there. Even if he disguised himself, he is tall and lean enough to have been recognized by our people from only those two details.

I'd started growing my hair out last year, in case he sent another message at the fourth-year mark again. I figured that he must have changed his hair, since his "spiked" hair style was another way that people could identify him. I did not wish to draw attention, if I could persuade the council to approve my intended plans, so I also changed my hairstyle to something that would blend in better.

I spoke to the council, at length. It took weeks of effort, but I finally obtained permission to do what I wished... without the encumbrance of bodyguards. I would take my daughters to visit those two likely towns. In one of those towns, hopefully, we should find their father.

I did not tell the council which towns I meant to visit. I only told them that it might take up to three years of travel time before I could return.

The council forbade me to inform him that my girls were also his. I accepted that restriction willingly. My goal had never included revealing that information, anyhow.

I simply needed to see him, if at all possible. My girls were too sensitive to my moods, and they knew I was pining for him (in spite of my best efforts to avoid it). Since there was a possible method of curing that downward spiral, I needed to make the attempt.

…

Fascinated and curious, Lisa turned to the next page and read more...

…

Year 129, month 4 day 29

I dared not bring this diary, lest it be misplaced and reveal things best kept concealed. So I am writing about these events after our return.

The first candidate town, the nearer of the two, was reached after only four months of sand-steamer travel. After nearly twelve years, he wouldn't be a "newcomer" anymore. I found the town's gossips, and asked about the people who lived there. It quickly became clear that the one I sought was not among them.

I caught the next sand steamer heading in the general direction I wanted, toward the other town. It wasn't a long wait, thankfully, until the next sand steamer came through that small town. My girls were growing restless, without access to the ship's computer.

Though they were thirteen and sixteen, my daughters appeared to be nearer to fifteen and eighteen. They had both experienced the rapid growth and maturation that Plants had during their first year. After that, pure Plants age extremely slowly. My girls were physically aging much more slowly than ordinary humans did, after their first year of rapid growth, but they still seemed to be physically aging much more rapidly than pure Plants. Emotionally… well, teen years are teen years, after all…

Even if he were to see them, I did not believe that their father would guess that my daughters were also his own children. How could he? He had no knowledge that his seed had been taken, since he was unconscious at the time.

He might have known that it was a common medical procedure to take seed samples for monitoring the health of adolescent and post-adolescent males, but it seemed unlikely he would guess that his own samples would be used in procreation. That part was definitely not a common procedure.

In fact, when he learns, he may be greatly displeased. I hope, if he is displeased, that he will only despise me – and not his daughters. He is fair-minded, so I believe that he will forgive them... even if he dislikes how they came to exist.

If he hates me for what I have done, after he learns, I will accept that. Though it will be extremely painful to me, if he does abhor me for the liberties I have taken, it is worth even that price to have known and loved Lumia and Larissa. I shall always cherish both of them, even as I have always admired and valued their father.

There were many delays in reaching the second town. For one thing, the town was nearly on the opposite side of the planet from our village. Also, there was only one sand steamer route that visited it. That one only reached the town once per year.

It was difficult to contain my daughters' curiosity and enthusiasm. They were at least as eager to see their father as I was. Thankfully, they were also enjoying traveling and seeing more of our planet. To their young, sheltered eyes, the similarities of different parts of the desert had not yet become monotonous.

The desert does have its beauties, I won't deny that. Other times, I have enjoyed them as much as my girls do. This trip, however, all I could think of was their father. I resented the desert, whether beautiful or common, for separating me from him.

When we finally arrived at the tiny northern town, the first place we sought was the café. Unfortunately, it had a "closed" sign up in its window. I turned to a passer-by, a grey-haired man wearing the badge of a deputy sheriff, and politely asked if he knew when the café would open.

"Good day," I said. "I see that the café is closed, and we're hungry for something other than the fare that the sand-steamer crew provides. Will it open anytime soon?"

"Not for a week or so," he said. "They always take a vacation when the sand steamer comes to town. Even though it would be good for business, Naomi says they don't like the noise and crowds. So she takes her adopted daughter, along with that tall lanky lad they took in, and the three of them go camping out in the desert for a week each year while the sand-steamer is docked here."

"Tall lanky lad?" I repeated, my heart beating faster. Both of my daughters were holding my hands, and I felt their grips tighten as we heard the man's words.

"Yeah," he said. "Naomi and her girl found him just outside of town, around eleven years back. He's a quiet chap, who's about as tall and thin as a light pole. He's as clumsy as a youth who's just grown tall and not got used to his new body yet. He's good with kids, though. He plays with them nearly every day, and most of our kids really love him."

"What is he called?" I asked.

This man's description sounded so exactly like my girls' father that I had very few doubts. The timing of when he was discovered fit well, also. I didn't expect that Vash would use his own name, because of the bounty on his head. However, he might be using something that I would recognize.

"Naomi introduced him to us as 'Nate,'" the man said. "Funny thing was, during those first few weeks after he recovered enough to get out of bed, he acted like he didn't know we were talking to him when we used that name."

He shrugged. "Most of us figure he'd got a knock on the head somewhere along the line, and forgot who he is," he said. "Odd bird, though he seems harmless. Aside from helping at the café, working at the Thomas coop, and playing with kids, his only hobby seems to be planting and tending apple trees." He smilingly gestured toward a cluster of trees, of various sizes, in full leaf.

I looked toward the trees and smiled.

"Nate" was not a name that I recognized. Apparently, it hadn't been a name that he recognized at first, either. Appearing harmless, though, that's something he excels at doing. I was even more convinced that Naomi's foundling was my girls' missing father.

"Forgive me," I said, "I forgot my manners. I am Luida, and these are my daughters Lumia and Larissa."

"Clem," he said, smiled, and extended a hand. I let go of my girls' hands just long enough for each of us to shake his hand.

"A member of my family went missing, about the time you say Naomi and her daughter found this 'Nate' fellow," I said. "He sounds like he might be the same person. If he forgot who he is, that might explain why he hasn't returned to us or even written."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Clem said cautiously.

"If we left something with you, for him," I asked softly, "would you mind terribly seeing that he got it?"

"I'd be happy to help," he said, though he still sounded a bit hesitant. "The lad's likable enough, odd as he is. He seems to be good for Naomi. She'll miss him if he leaves."

"I won't ask him to leave," I said, "only to write now and then."

"Well, that's fair enough," he said amiably. He visibly relaxed.

"Naomi and her daughter, what are they like?" I asked, allowing some of my concern to show.

The radio messages indicated that he was safe, yet I also wondered about those with whom he had taken refuge. Were they the kind of people with whom he could be content? Were they treating him well? Did they have any idea who he is?

Since I had claimed him as a relative, I hoped the inquiry would raise no suspicions. Thankfully, the loquacious deputy seemed perfectly content to answer my question.

"Oh, Naomi's been part of this town since she was a child, when her father was hired to be our sheriff," Clem said, smiling. "She's been running the café since she got married, about sixty-five years ago. She's a widow now, though. It's a crying shame she never had any children of her own. She's so kind and generous that everybody around here loves her... especially the Thomas-coop owner, though he's not able to get anywhere near her since that boy arrived. I sometimes think the lad may have taken on that job at the coop just to keep the owner away from Naomi."

He chuckled before he continued. "Naomi brings a lunch, free, to the sheriff's office almost every day. She's even kind enough to put up the wanted posters for us, while we eat that lunch she brought. And it's always good food. She and her girl are both very good cooks. I hear the boy helps out some with the cooking, too, though I've never noticed any drop in the quality or flavor. She must have taught him well."

I felt a chill at the thought of wanted posters. I would check the place where they were posted, as soon as possible. I nodded, encouraging him to continue.

"Naomi's grand-niece came here just after all that trouble down south, where all the Plants were stolen, and all that other weird stuff was happening, and so many folk died," Clem continued. "Shyla, the girl's called. Poor thing's terribly bashful, and plain as... well, anything you could name. She almost never came out of the kitchen, until that boy arrived."

He chuckled again. "Nowadays, Nate brings her out with him to play with the kids, nearly every day. She used to cling to his right arm like she was going to tear it right off his body, until he got her used to playing with the children. She still holds onto his arm like that when they come to church, and looks mostly at the ground."

"I expect the poor gal's bashfulness is why Naomi mostly stays at home with her since she arrived," he continued. "Before that, Naomi was oftener out looking for folks to feed. She still brings food if anyone's died, or sick, or had a baby; but she doesn't stick around to visit for hours at a time the way she used to do."

"I'm sorry that I cannot meet them," I said sincerely. "They sound like good people. Is there anywhere else that I might buy a meal, since the café is closed?"

"There's the saloon," he said. "I'd recommend getting your eats and getting out before the evening crowd goes in, though." His eyes slid sideways to look at my daughters as he said that last part.

"Thank you," I said, nodding. I understood his meaning, and tried to let that show in my face. "I'll do that. Have a pleasant day."

"I'll do my best, thanks," he said, smiled and nodded politely, and walked away.

I walked down the street, still holding my girls' hands. The bag with our changes of clothes in it was heavy on my shoulder. When I saw him step into a shop, I hurried toward the sheriff's office. As expected, the external wall facing the street was covered with wanted posters.

I'd seen enough sheriffs' offices, during the course of our journey, to be reasonably familiar with the set of wanted people currently posted. All of the usual suspects were plainly displayed... except that there appeared to be no poster about Vash. I checked again, more carefully. I still could not find a notice of any kind suggesting that he was wanted for a bounty, not even hidden behind others. Yet I knew very well that he was still a "wanted" man.

It appeared as if this Naomi might know, or at least suspect, who he is. And her response to that knowledge, or suspicion, is an effort to protect him by not posting the notices that he is wanted. I felt much better as I led my girls toward the saloon.

We ate at the saloon as Clem had recommended, and then returned to the sand steamer well before evening.

"Girls, can either of you sense anything that might possibly be coming from your father?" I asked softly, when we reached the privacy of our assigned room.

Lumia tipped her head, and looked thoughtful. Larissa also made the attempt, but she had never knowingly detected anything from her father. She wasn't quite sure what to "listen" for, so she soon gave up in frustration.

"There is a little," Lumia said delightedly, after a while. "It's faint, compared to what I've sensed before, but it's there." Her smile grew wider. "It's so good to feel from him again!"

"May I ask what you feel from him?" I reminded her gently.

"Oh, sorry," Lumia said, embarrassed. "Pain and sorrow are there, but there's also some calm and... it feels like he did when he told jokes to me in the hospital. He's hurting, a lot, but he's also trying to cheer up someone else."

I smiled. "Thank you," I said.

That was so like him! No matter how much pain he suffered inside, he would smile for others and all his concern would be for them.

We worked together to help Larissa find and feel his emotions, too. That way, hopefully, she could do it again if there was a want or need to do so.

The calm my daughters both sensed, after Larissa managed to "tune in" on him, was the most encouraging part. If Naomi and her excessively bashful daughter had helped him to find a measure of calm, then perhaps he had found a haven where he could heal.

My girls had found a terminal on the steamer, and were using it to learn everything that computer's memory banks held. They thought it was fun to bypass the various security protocols, which was mildly unsettling. However, I knew that they would be careful to do no harm. They had already learned well the importance of not playing with the programs. So I knew they were only looking, and I let them look to their hearts' content.

The trip had been disappointing, to the extent that I was unable to see him. However, I had learned things that helped to set my mind at ease.

Were I not a Councilwoman, on a reluctantly-granted leave, I would stay to see him and to meet the people with whom he was staying. Unfortunately, my duty was now to return home as swiftly as humanly possible. I could not linger here for a year, and share this haven with him, no matter how much I wished to do so.

I had brought with me a vest made out of the special leather-like material that was nearly bullet-proof. It was tailored to fit Vash perfectly. It was the deep brown shade used for his body armor, instead of the brilliant red used for his coat. In its pocket, I put a small note that said, "You are loved and missed. Be safe and well, and send word when you can." I signed it "Your friends, Lumia and her mother and sister."

I wrapped this up into a package, and asked Lumia to write out a tag, "To my friend, Love, Lumia." We left the small package with Clem, who promised to deliver it to "Nate" when he returned.

It was difficult to leave, but, unfortunately, we could not stay a whole year until the sand steamer returned.

My girls and I stood at the back of the steamer as it pulled away. We watched there, holding hands, as the small town where he lived slowly dwindled out of sight.