"I think this'll fit… Wait. No. This one, here."
Meryl held up a long synthetic rayon blue and gray jumpsuit to the nearly naked plant angel, and measured. She'd found a series of living compartments in the recesses of the ship, that still were equipped with old attire. Arms, long. Shoulders might be too snug, however, "Yeah. This will do for now."
The plant angel blinked at her quizzically, with those enormous black orbs. Meryl smiled disarmingly, wondering how such an obscure feature could radiate so much warmth. She quietly wondered if all of them would be so quick to accept her.
"You know I'm your friend, don't you…" she said quietly.
The angel tilted her head, her pale flaxen expression seemingly blank, but the telepathic compassion that emanated off her being was answer enough. Yes…
"Good," Meryl said, dutifully aiding the awkward being into the restrictive attire. The scars on her back from where Knives had severed her from those fleshy appendages, puckered and dimpled as she twisted into the suit. But she didn't seem to be in pain. The healing had done its job. "Well, I think it's time we gave you a name. Do you have any preference—?"
The angel grunted something inarticulate, and abruptly clamped both hands on Meryl's head. The shorter woman startled as she was assaulted by a brief, but deliberate vision. From a time when the angel was still encased in Little Jersey, looking down on the gracious face of a young girl, chatting amiably with her through the bulb, all giggles and smiles. Perhaps a daughter of one of the plant's engineers. Tiny arms held up a white-haired, winged doll.
"See? Daddy bought her for me because she looks like you. I even named her Angela…"
The vision stopped, and the angel balanced Meryl to keep her from falling over. Meryl shook herself to clear the memory, wondering if she was ever going to get used to that mental transfer thing. "Angela," she said, once collected.
The angel's mouth parted just the slightest.
"That's a lovely name."
The barest hint of a smile lifted Angela's lips, and she shimmied into the rest of the suit with more enthusiasm. Meryl zipped it up, and grabbed her hand. "Well then, Angela. Let's go and do something with this hair of yours." She guided her out of the compartment, and though the angel was a good foot taller, Meryl still had the sensation of toting along an innocent child. She sat her down by her belongings, and got out a hairbrush and some gauze wrap to serve as a tie.
"It's so thick, and there's so much of it…" she commented, trying to run her fingers through the snags in the long white-black tresses. The fair hair strands were fine and silken to the touch, but the charcoalized patches that started at the base of her scalp and ended half-way up, were coarse. It didn't take a genius to figure out that their hair color was a gauge of their lifespan. When it went all black, then... She shivered. It's a good thing he freed you when he did, Angela…
The angel kept trying to turn around. Meryl gently redirected her to face forward. "You'll have to wait until Milly gets here for something more elaborate, I'm afraid. All I can do is a ponytail. Speaking of Milly," she said, taking the brush to it, "Vash should be back here with her and her father sometime today. You'll like my co-worker. She's got the most contagious smile of anyone I know. And maybe we can teach you how to use your voice to speak. I imagine most people probably won't be receptive to the telepathy."
Mild apprehension bled off the angel, and Meryl squeezed her shoulder for reassurance.
"Don't worry. There's no rush. And Milly will absolutely love you - with, or without language. Vash is explaining the situation to her before she arrives. This task will be huge, but we only need a few of us to start."
The angel tensed. Meryl sensed her wariness. And she sensed why.
"I know Knives won't be the most pleasant person to work with, but I believe we can still do this, regardless of his attitude." Meryl wrapped the gauze around the bunched hair at the nape of her neck, and tied a clumsy bow. "Done."
The angel stood, and jerked her attention towards the lower chambers. She went rigid.
"He's awake?" Meryl asked.
Angela's hands curled and uncurled, a slight frown furrowing her brow. It was clear that her feelings regarding her little brother were still mixed. What might have been enthusiasm with Vash, was only distrust and lingering resentment with Knives. Meryl, however was glad he was awake. She had some unfinished business with the plant boy.
.
.
He saw her enter the control room in his peripheral vision. Cleaned white suit, hair flopping about her brow, hands twitching by her sides... A ball of tension in an otherwise serene setting. Knives' back muscles immediately bunched up.
Just leave it to that meddlesome little vixen to be tenacious enough to find me here. He tried to ignore her, figuring the minimal interaction in this reluctant alliance would be best.
"There you are," she said. No catch in her voice. No hesitation. It was almost insulting how little he intimidated her. Knives focused harder on the hologram map he'd been studying. So help him, if she even gloated one tiny bit about working together…
"Knives…" She strode towards him purposefully. He disregarded her approach, fixating on the panel…
Until she barreled right into his personal space and bent over his chair, facing him.
He grunted surprise at her abrupt proximity, instinctively leaning as far back as his chair would let him – but she only clamped her hands on his arm rests, boring down on him with those intense, lavender eyes.
"Do…do you mind!?" he coughed incredulously, feeling his cheeks redden. "I was in the middle of—"
"This." She said firmly, yanking the chain out of her shirt, dangling its ornament in front of his eyes. "We were in the middle of discussing this before Vash showed up."
The shiny, platinum cyberpod number twinkled like a hypnotic time warp. Disoriented, he blinked dumbly at it before regaining his composure. "Get…get out of my face."
"Tell me what significance this has to you."
Never… He bit his mental tongue a second too late. Her eyes widened. She'd heard it.
Shit. Flashbacks of the pretty girl in a cyberpod blitzed through his mind. He felt his palms start to tingle, and his heartbeat quicken. He thought he'd mastered the art of detaching himself from the weaknesses of his past, but that proved to be awfully difficult when one of them was staring him right in the face. So Knives - being the self-aware being that he was – pursed his lips, met her eyes, and lied.
"Significance? What significance? It's a cyberpod number. You said so yourself."
"You recognized it."
"You're imagining things."
"I saw it in your expression, Knives! Don't lie to me!"
A growl rumbled in his throat. "You were in cyber sleep for 115 years, woman! Information like that takes more than a half-second to assimilate!"
"But—"
"There's nothing more to it. Do you honestly believe that of the 86.4 million cyberpods in project SEEDs, I somehow came across yours??" Now that he spelled it out, the actuality of it really was astounding. He was an inherent believer in fate, and damn it all if her involvement here wasn't disturbing…
She bit her bottom lip, and her eyes glistened. She hung her head. An emotional silence hung between them, and Knives thought he'd feel great about having the upper hand again. About hurting her. But he didn't. For the first time in his adult life, he felt invalidated about lying to a human.
"I don't believe you," she said, fighting despair with denial. When she looked up, she was just as intense as when she'd stormed in there. "I swear, if I were any less of a person, I'd…I'd…"
"You'd what?" he snarled.
Her brow furrowed, and her face dropped into concentration. A moment later, Knives felt her mental probes tickle his consciousness. It wasn't enough to penetrate his thoughts, but it was enough to make him gasp.
"…that." With a self-satisfied 'Hmph', she pushed off his chair and turned to the hologram on the panel.
His mouth fumbled until the words took form. "Amateur… You couldn't glean information from me if you tried."
"Really. Do you think yourself that bad of a teacher?" she flung back at him.
He scowled. Such quick-witted, aggravating retorts. Up until recently, no one even dared to get in a verbal sparring match with him. He almost didn't know how to cope with it. "Our lessons were always interrupted."
She folded her arms across her chest, without looking at him. The change of subjects came unexpectedly. She shook herself, and spoke in clipped words. "So what's this," she said, jerking her chin at the map of Gunsmoke.
"A map of Gunsmoke."
She huffed, and he smirked internally. Did the woman honestly expect him to not patronize her? Knives watched as she simmered down and really looked at the hologram. Her eyes taking in the significance of the clusters of red dots, interspersed by blazing yellow ones. "Are these…your sisters?"
He said nothing. She took his silence as an affirmative.
"And the yellow dots are…the ones that are dying?"
Pause. "Hm."
She grew contemplative. "So many…"
It was a sore topic, one that was pointless to discuss. Their priority here was action. Not mourning. Again, he said nothing.
"Those blue swirls… They don't...signify water, do they? I mean, they can't. Not on Gunsmoke."
"Oh no?"
"Well, they're covering over half the globe, and I've never seen any natural reservoir anywhere—"
"Water table," he explained pragmatically, leaning forward to point. "These colorations signify where the water table is closest to the surface. And the largest concentration of dying plants are –"
"January," she uttered, having absorbed the map faster that he'd expected.
Knives leaned back in his chair, and tapped his fingers on the arms. "107 plant angels fuel that city, 27 of which are in their last stages."
After a moment, she blew her breath out in a long whistle. "So we'll be attempting to relocate the hugest city on the planet, first." Meryl closed her eyes. "Can't we start with some place smaller?"
All he had to do was glare at her. She exhaled in a sigh and rubbed her brow. "Alright, then. We'll have to learn—"
"I'm leaving tomorrow."
She spun around. "T-to… Tomorrow!?"
His eye narrowed to slits.
"You can't! Vash doesn't even know how to change the desert topography, yet!"
"That's not my problem."
"It IS your problem!"
He felt the muscles in his jaw spasm. Had she been anyone else…even Vash, he would have backhanded her to the moon. Knives scooted to the edge of his chair, and stood slowly to his feet. She took a step back as he towered over her, still defiant. Still argumentative.
"You misunderstand," he spoke with acidic calm. "All my sisters need is a reason to leave. Vash vowed to provide for humanity in their absence. I tell them such, they allow me free them, and in the end if mankind ends up perishing because my brother couldn't provide – then their blood is on his hands. Not mine."
She made a fist. For a moment, he thought she was going to grab him by the collar and shake him. But the woman refrained. "Knives… We need time…"
"Do you wish further death and illness to my people?"
"No! But…but…"
He arched a brow.
"You could at least show Vash how!!"
A shuffle by the entrance. They both spun to see a very weather-worn, but wide-grinned Vash waving at them. "Show me what?"
Meryl's expression brightened immediately, and she completely forgot about Knives, pushing off the panel to run towards his twin brother, all but hugging him when they met.
Knives grit his teeth. Something about the reunion aggravated him. Perhaps it was how quickly she dismissed the topic at hand for the company of his idiot brother, instantly given to gaiety like everything was all right. Annoying, whatever it was. After all, the day that woman smiled like that for him, would be the day he knew he was doing something seriously wrong…
"Did you find Milly? Did her father come?" Meryl was practically on her toes.
Vash's smile broadened, and he winked at her. A moment later, the room echoed with a high-pitched resounding, "Ma'am!"
Meryl clapped her hands. "Milly!"
Loud, chatty conversation ensued as the tall, fair-featured woman walked in. She was dusty, with a slight edge of travel-wear in her voice, but just as relentlessly cheerful as ever. Shortly after her was a portly, older man. Balding. Glasses. Well-suited. Expression amiable.
"I don't think you ever met my father," Milly announced.
Meryl eagerly shook his hand. "No. But I'm so glad you're here, Mr. Thompson. We're going to need your skills."
Vash clapped him a little roughly on the shoulder, and Mr. Thompson startled and then smiled ruefully at Meryl. He looked overwhelmed. "After what your friend Vash showed me yesterday…" he paused, and shook his head as though remembering. "I…I couldn't refuse."
Meryl's smile straightened. "I hope he didn't scare you too bad."
"Oh, he scared me plenty," he laughed nervously. "But I can't deny a just cause when I see one."
Milly beamed. "Daddy's a good man." Then she looked as though in afterthought to finally notice Knives sitting by the panel. He tried to project his usual detached intrigue, narrowing his eyes and leaning casually against the desk. But she acted as though he'd just jumped up and waved hi.
"Knives!"
He stiffened as she sauntered over.
"Wow," her eyes appraised him from head to toe. "You're standing on your own. Using your arms. You…you're completely healed. Meryl really took care of you, didn't she?"
A muscle in his face twitched. Took care of me? The ornery big-mouthed woman had done nothing but complicate his life, but those words would be wasted breath on her idiot companion here. Remembering the sandy-haired amazon from being bed-ridden for six weeks, he figured not much penetrated her happy, oblivious nature--
"Well, don't worry, Mr. Knives," Milly dropped her voice to a whisper, and nudged him with her elbow. "You can have her back in a moment. Probably didn't appreciate us coming in here, and taking all her attention away from you, did ya?"
He choked. His detached reticence faltered. She smiled innocently, as though having no awareness of saying something so absurd. His lips fumbled over unformed protests. Of all the…!
"Anyways, it's good to see you up and about."
How dare she…!
"Ciao!"
Insinuate that I…!!
Milly patted his shoulder companionably and walked back. Watching her return in stupefied offense, he realized that another pair of eyes had locked on him. Meryl had picked up on his agitation and was now frowning inquisitively at him from the entrance. He felt his face redden in a heady cocktail of furious awkwardness.
What is it? she mouthed.
He guarded his thoughts immediately, and fought the insanity like he usually did. With action. And a good change of subjects. "I decided I'm not leaving for January tomorrow," he said, forcing his voice calm.
She brightened.
"I'm leaving today."
And sank.
.
.
TWO DAYS LATER
Vash was exhausted.
After Knives left so abruptly two days ago to start freeing their sisters, a true sense of urgency settled in. Mr. Thompson had been working on the city planning around the clock, while Meryl and Milly, had started preparing the old spaceship for numerous inhabitants, including clothing, bedding, food…
And Vash… Well, he had managed to successfully extract another angel from her bulb. Tuning into her physiology was instinctive - just an extension of his ability to stabilize them when they were on the blitz. But it took him an entire day to do it safely. An entire day of aligning his alchemy with the sinews and veins, deciphering which ones were vital, and which ones were severable.
Angela was right there with him, aiding him with glimpses of her own experience. He was grateful for her help, and relieved as all hell when they succeeded. The freed angel had been healthy to start with, so she didn't need a full healing post-liberation.
Just a good, long nap.
And now that they would have one extra hand, he felt more comfortable starting out with…
"Vash. Shouldn't you rest first?"
That voice – there was always so much behind it. She always transmitted so much more than just words… He unsuctioned his fingers from the dirt, and smiled ruefully at the woman who had just knelt down next to him. "There's no time for that."
She tilted her head, and chewed her bottom lip. Solution. She was looking for a solution. Most would offer empty protests, but not his Meryl. That big caring heart of hers was always working overtime, trying to fix things. Proactive. Always moving forward…
Security, and true hope. Two things she gave him…two things that had been missing from his life since the day Rem died. He couldn't express with words how glad he was that she was here. Couldn't, and didn't even try. He just hoped she didn't mind the acquisition of a 134-year old momma's boy. "I'll be okay. If I can just figure out the basics of how to vegetate, then I can show Angela, and she can take over."
She rested a hand on his back, and shook him gently. "You know, Knives can't do it all at once, Vash. He was in worse shape than you are now after freeing Angela."
"Angela tried to kill him, first."
She shivered, recalling… "True. But he has to brainwash an entire engineering plant, in order to walk in and do this long, tedious process. That'll tap his energy to begin with. He can't kill the employees, or the angels will riot against him. I honestly don't know how he's going to pull it off. It'll be interesting to hear how it went when he returns. But I say he's lucky if he just manages to free one," she absently chewed on a nail. "It'd take at least a year to free all the angels from there, and that's not taking into consideration how we'll dance around the city's occupants when they realize that their energy source is being taken from them."
Her words took the edge off his panic. He looked at the raw dirt that he'd been trying to cultivate, and sighed. "So you're saying I have time for a nap?"
She exhaled in a soft laugh. "Yes."
The doors of the main chamber whooshed open. They both startled, and turned to see that Knives had returned. He stood in the entrance, silhouetted black against the desert sun. Tense. Foreboding. Something was draped in his arms. An angel.
"Knives!" Meryl breathed. "You did it? How did it go? Is she okay?"
"Keh," was the only response she got. Knives didn't look at her. Didn't look at either of them. Just strode right by, his jaw tight, his gait stiff, his angry icy gaze fixed ahead... The angel was curled against his chest, her jet black hair in wild disarray, hanging over his forearm… She was unconscious, brow knotted in residual pain, her limp form wrapped in a blanket...
They watched silently as he went down to the lower chambers, to no doubt hook her up with one of her sisters for healing. Vash felt his anxiety return. Two days. Knives had just taken two days. Every angel that was freed in January represented over 29,000 humans that had depended on her for survival. 29,000 that needed placement NOW.
"Dammit…" He slammed his fingers back into the dirt and closed his eyes. The moist granules embedded in his cuticles, and gave him the sense of touch that he was looking for. He dumped every ounce of his being into visualizing, visualizing and actualizing. The seed beneath his palms. The nutrients around it. Trying to manipulate…and manipulate…and manipulate…
.
.
Light, and static enveloped Vash's form all of a sudden. Meryl gasped and stumbled back, as some tremendous strain twisted his features, and made his body tremble. She could feel his concentration, his determination…his waning strength…
And so did Angela. The first angel sister erupted into the area from a side garden, nearly tripping in her long gangly strides. She looked at Meryl, then at Vash with giant glistening orbs.
"Knives just returned with an angel. I think it scared him. He's trying to acquire the ability to vegetate—"
Meryl could feel Angela's thoughts process. Tumble. Decide. She made a distressed sound, and quickly pounced on Vash. Or that's at least what it seemed like. She knelt down behind him, and bowed her body over his back, resting her chin on his shoulder blade, and curling those thin white fingers around his wrists. The same concentration touched her own features, and Meryl realized that she wasn't trying to stop him. She was trying to learn vicariously through him, so that his efforts wouldn't be in vain.
So she can pick up where he leaves off, when he collapses. Meryl bit her nails, torn between stopping them, and letting the process run its course. She remembered watching Knives manipulate the vines and trees when she first arrived here, and he hadn't strained one bit. Not at all. Is it supposed to be this hard on them?
Vash grunted. The crackling around him got worse, and Meryl gasped as a streak of obsidian shot through his blonde, spiky hair. Then another one, right below his ear. And another, along his brow. Meryl jumped up to her feet. "V…VASH!"
Her shout didn't even register in his features, and it was then that the same thing happened to Angela. His angel sister whimpered as one of the few patches of white left on her own crown charcoalized. With a half-uttered curse, Meryl lunged at them both, but the wall of electricity around them hissed and spat at her, propelling her back several feet. She landed hard, shook herself, and screamed at the lower chambers.
"KNIVES!!"
She heard the footsteps almost as soon as she'd called his name. She twisted her body to see him burst into the chamber, only pausing a split second to assess the situation with wide, alarmed eyes. Then without explanation or inquiry, he crossed the remaining distance in three hurried steps, and in one quick move, grabbed Angela's shoulders and pried her off Vash's back, while simultaneously wedging his knee under Vash's gut, dislodging his brother from that spot. The wall of electricity fizzed out, and with a grunt, Knives flipped Vash on his back, and gently laid Angela down on hers.
Both were breathing heavily, their faces grimacing in some great discomfort. Knives leaned over Angela systematically, studying her from head to toe, and then did the same with Vash. He paused when he saw the black streaks in his brothers' hair, and dropped one hand down to roll the onyx strands between his thumb and forefinger.
Too caught up in the panic to guard his thoughts from her, Meryl heard the words he mouthed. And felt the concern that went with them. Okay... He's okay... Knives made a fist and punched the ground next to Vash's head. But if I hadn't been here...
Milly came running in then, and Knives looked up. "You. Take my sister to be healed."
Seeing Angela half-aware, laying on the ground like that, Milly needed no further encouragement. Her expression roiling with worry, she bent down and picked the girl up in her arms, taking off at a steady jog towards the plant chambers. When she was gone, Knives turned back to Vash, just now giving into his anger.
"Damn you," he breathed, beginning to shake.
Vash was too miserable to even protest, cracking a red-shot eye open to see who it was, then closing it again, and turning his head weakly to the side. Meryl bit her tongue as Knives stood to his feet, and swore some more.
"You IDIOT," the word was all but a roar. "You think you can strong-arm this kind of a process!?"
Vash said nothing.
"You stupid overgrown buffoon! After all these years and you're still implementing Neanderthal tactics. GAH!" He sliced at the air in an angry gesture, and clenched both hands into fists. "And to include a sister, who is already half-dead… Did you see her, Vash? Did you see what you did to her??"
Vash winced, and shook his head.
"It's almost all black now. Her hair. You nearly killed her!"
Vash grimaced, and Meryl's eyes watered. Vash tried to utter something. Something that sounded like a 'didn't know…'
"WHAT!?"
Vash closed his mouth, so Meryl spoke for him. "He didn't know Angela had—"
"Angela?" Knives looked like he was two seconds away from spitting fire. "Who gave her that name!?"
Meryl went on, disregarding his temperament. "—Vash didn't know she'd jumped on him. Let alone that the learning of this technique might take his life!"
Knives' face swung in her direction, his lips in a bloodless line, and his eyes as hard and cold and angry as when she'd decked him. Meryl gulped. Suddenly all his ferocity was on her, and she found herself tongue-tied. Well, almost.
"Vash…f-freed an ang-g-gel, you know. Just took him one day. So don't judge his talents so harshly! He's a lot more capable than you give him credit for!"
.
.
Vash heard Meryl's stammering words, as she tried to defend him. Always so righteous. Always crusading on his behalf. But Knives was going to crucify her, and she had nothing to do with this incident. Vash lifted a weak arm, and opened his eyes, calling her name.
But she didn't hear him. Instead, she lifted her chin and boldly met Knives' glare with her usual fearless edge. "Besides, it's your fault to begin with, you arrogant jerk! You have the information they need, but you're too proud to share it! If there's anyone here who could have prevented this incident, it's you!"
Vash's jaw tightened, and he tried to lift himself up. Foolish, brave woman. One day, that tongue of hers was going to get her killed. "Meryl," he coughed in a raw, hoarse voice. "Later," was all he could manage.
She didn't hear him, which was no surprise. At this point, Knives had squared off with her, his presence alone deafening out Vash's words. Vash braced himself to intervene, as weak as he was.
But instead of a lecture, or a long string of invective, something else came out. Something that had nothing to do with what just happened. Knives pointed at Meryl with a long, rigid arm.
"You. You're coming with me on the next raid." Heated. Condescending. The subject changed so fast, Meryl's face went from defiant to confused.
"Huh?"
"You're coming with me to liberate the angels."
"Why?"
He ignored her question, and walked past, tossing over his shoulder in taught, commanding words, "Be ready. We're leaving in two hours."
Meryl gaped after his retreating form, and then stood angrily to her feet. "You should know by now, Knives, that you can't force my cooperation. If you don't have a good reason, then—"
He waved her off, and kept walking. Which just made her mad. Vash wasn't sure what she did right then, but Knives's head bobbed forward, as though she'd just thrown a rock at it. He grunted, and spun around, his eyes on fire.
"You…dare…!?"
"After today," she seethed. "I think you'll agree that I'm more needed on this end of our project, than on your end."
Vash moaned internally. Meryl! You reckless fool! I'm in no position to defend you if you piss him off this time!
Cold, calculated action. That's what the Knives he knew would have responded with. She was just a human to him, after all, and Vash was certainly no threat at the moment. But Knives surprised him utterly then by gracing her with furious reaction. He was letting her get to him. Which was…unprecedented.
Knives marched back until he was practically nose to nose with Meryl. "You know nothing!"
Cursing, Vash lifted himself up on his arms. "Knives… Don't touch her…"
"In order to keep your fellow primates from interfering, I had to control their minds," Knives spat. "Seventeen of them. Hovering like mosquitoes around my sisters."
Vash blinked hugely. He's taking the time to explain things to her!? Her personal space too crowded, Meryl took a step back, but Knives just took another step forward.
"So I sent them outside, but my control slipped when I started to free the angel." He wasn't yelling, but the tone of his voice carried all the impact of a foghorn. "So half way through, the engineers came scuttling in to see the most surreal sight of their insignificant, sheltered lives. Next thing I knew, we're surrounded by humans, but I couldn't stop what I'd started, or else I would have lost her completely…"
Vash listened in a growing nervousness. He almost didn't want to hear how Knives got out of there unscathed.
"You…" Meryl's voice hitched, and she pushed through it. "You…killed them?"
Knives straightened, and threw his arms in a furious gesture. "I couldn't! I was busy freeing my sister!"
Meryl put a hand to her chest, and deflated with relief.
"Besides, all the other angels were watching," Knives finished, more quietly. "I can't save them from their naïve perception of humanity until I save them from their confinements."
"So…what did…how did you…?"
"Let's just say that the next time they see me, they probably won't stand idly by while I deplete them of their energy source. Humans are inherently stupid, but not that stupid."
"So you lied to them?"
"Feh."
"Can you…go at night?"
"They work around the clock. It's the city's largest generator."
Meryl paused, while Knives' boil simmered down to a lukewarm. Her next words were honest. No bite. "But…what can I do?"
Knives narrowed his eyes, and tapped his temple.
Meryl coughed. "C-control their minds?"
"Don't act so ignorant. Or innocent, for that matter." His eyes crinkled in a sneer. "I don't consider myself that bad of a teacher."
He said it in a way that suggested he was alluding to something that transpired between them earlier. Some prior conversation. Or argument. Vash listened carefully while Meryl fumed.
"Whatever, Knives. I'm not about to help you speed up your process if you refuse to help us with ours. The slower you go, the better for us. For everyone."
Knives' sneer straightened. "Better!? You consider additional strain on the remaining angels better?"
"The way I see it, you could have a lot more help than just me, if you stopped being such an asshole and showed Vash how to vegetate." At his sputtering silence, she added, "Besides. Once there is habitable land set up for the residents of January, then we could take a whole crew and free all the city's angels within one night. ONE. No additional strain on the angels. No additional lives lost."
Before he could respond, she jabbed her finger in his chest. "You help us, we help you."
Vash watched in amazement as Knives' expression shifted through several emotions. Belligerence. Denial. Grim acceptance. No one had that kind of control over him. No one. With anyone else, he would have disregarded them without a second thought. He would have killed them, without a second thought. But with Meryl…
Vash's breath caught. His chest expanded with hope. He was witnessing with his very eyes the kind of influence Meryl said she had over him. Knives paid heed to her. What she said mattered to him. Her well-being mattered to him, or else he would have hurt her by now.
And if that wasn't a good sign, then he didn't know what was. Perhaps he was changing, just like she said. "Sounds like," cough, hack, "A win/win…to me, brother." And then he added silently, If you teach me how to vegetate, then I'll let her go with you.
Knives snorted, and sent back, She'll do whatever the hell she wants, with or without your permission. Or have you already forgotten how I escaped in the first place?
The interplay locked between the two of them, Meryl missed it. She shrugged, turned on her heel and began to walk off. "Think it over, Knives," she said wearily over her shoulder. "I'm going to go make sure Milly hooked Angela up right."
The soft whisper of her footsteps faded out as she exited, leaving Vash alone with his brother. The two of them stared each other down, one exhausted but determined, with the other hiding his emotions behind a perfect reticent mask. After a long impasse, Knives came over and squatted down next to him.
"I'm going to salvage the sick ones immediately, Vash… Regardless of how far you've progressed with the alternate topography."
Vash gaped. His tone. It was almost conceding. Like they'd reached an agreement. He hissed at the sharp pains in his body, as Knives suddenly heaved him up on his feet, supporting his weight with his shoulder. Wordlessly, his brother marched them out of the ship into the hot desert.
The dry air enveloped them immediately and sand pushed against their feet as they kicked through it, until Knives dumped Vash about thirty feet from the ship. The sand scalded the side of his face until he rolled around and lifted himself up on all fours, coughing. Fit over, Vash peered in wary exhaustion as Knives flattened his palms on the hot ground. "Put your hands on mine."
Vash blinked, certain that something must be wrong with his hearing. "Are you going to--?"
"Hurry up."
As hard as it was to support himself on his knees, Vash tentatively did as told, putting his large, callused hands over the knuckles of his brother's. His voice was still hoarse, and choked with disbelief. "But I thought…I thought you needed a seed. Nourishment…"
Expression set, Knives concentrated on the ground. "Moron. That's cheating. Now concentrate, and pay attention to what I do. This planet's indigenous vegetation is already resting in the soil that encases the water table. Just a few yards below the surface. You don't force it, Vash. That's why you almost died. You have to ease it. Manipulate elements these solids, liquids and gases already have in the manner they would have you go. Like a coconut. There's always a soft spot out of the three, right? Separate, blend, erect rock formations for shade, rechannel the water passage, and stimulate it so that it flows…"
Vash swallowed. Hard. Knives scowled at him. "Can you assimilate this?"
Nod.
"Okay. Then here we go…"