(Note: This chapter is short and mostly dialogue oriented, but I hope you
enjoy it anyway. I'm very grateful to everyone who read and reviewed, I
really, really appreciate it. Thank you also to my husband for reading and
editing.)
The next morning I woke up early, uncomfortable after a night on the jeep's seats. Knives was still asleep, and I took a moment to look at his face. With ordinary clothes, and with the sunlight shining on his hair and face, he looked very different from the man Vash had brought home through the desert.
Suddenly Knives' eyelids snapped open and his eyes met mine. "You're thinking I look like my brother, aren't you?"
That had not been what I was thinking, and even in sleep he had only slightly resembled Vash. But a question came out of my mouth before I could stop it.
"Knives, why do you and Vash look, well, the way you look, and not like plants?"
It struck me too late that it was the sort of question that might drive Knives to kill. But he simply looked at me and shook his head.
"'Why do we look human?' is what you are afraid to ask," he stated.
I nodded.
"I don't know, and Vash doesn't know either. We've both tried to find out but there's no one left who knows exactly how the plants work and why. Communicating with plants isn't easy either. I was able to manipulate plants to make the angel arms, but why I don't have wings and can live outside a bulb is a mystery to me."
He spoke a bit more, staring fixedly at the horizon.
"I took the fact that we were not as delicate as bulb plants to mean that I was meant to give revenge for all the ways in which humans mistreat plants. Because you know that what we saw back there is the least of what humans have done to my kind. But the truth might be much simpler. It may be that we contain human genes. You can imagine how little I want to admit that."
I wondered why he had admitted it to me.
Suddenly he turned again to face me. "I have a question," he stated.
I nodded.
"Why did you never kill me?"
"Kill you?" I was shocked.
"Milly Thompson, don't tell me the thought has never crossed your mind."
During the time I had helped him during his recovery, I had often wondered if it wouldn't be easier to let him die. And I remembered thinking I could have left him for those men to kill. But I had never considered killing him in cold blood.
"You had a lover," said Knives flatly. "And he's dead now, because of me."
I turned away from him.
"I don't want to talk about Nick," I said. The pain I felt when Nick died was not something I wanted to share with Millions Knives.
"You can't tell me that he would have wanted you to let me live. Don't forget, I knew him."
Nick himself had never shared his time with the Gung-Ho Guns with me. Tears were starting to come to my eyes. I tried to blink them away.
Finally I turned to face him.
"I don't know," I said in an exasperated voice. "I don't know what Nick would want me to do now. And I can't live the rest of my life wondering that, even though I did love him."
I choked on the word love.
"Right now I'm doing what I need to do, and that's to bring you back to Vash."
"And you don't harbor any anger?"
I did, of course, and it was beginning to flare up now. I told myself to measure my words carefully, that I must avoid antagonizing Knives.
But finally I turned to him, tears running down my cheeks. "Doesn't everyone on this planet have a reason to want to kill you? Should we all line up and take turns? What do you want from me?"
With a shock, I realized that I had put my hands on his shoulders. He simply stood there, looking into my eyes. Eventually he pulled my hands down but continued to hold them in his, still looking at me. I was surprised that he would voluntarily touch me, but in the end his hands felt just like anyone else's hands.
"I want to show you something else now. And then we will talk about humans."
I nodded. I wanted to remind him again that Vash and Meryl were waiting, but there didn't seem to be any point. I got in the jeep and got ready to go.
The next morning I woke up early, uncomfortable after a night on the jeep's seats. Knives was still asleep, and I took a moment to look at his face. With ordinary clothes, and with the sunlight shining on his hair and face, he looked very different from the man Vash had brought home through the desert.
Suddenly Knives' eyelids snapped open and his eyes met mine. "You're thinking I look like my brother, aren't you?"
That had not been what I was thinking, and even in sleep he had only slightly resembled Vash. But a question came out of my mouth before I could stop it.
"Knives, why do you and Vash look, well, the way you look, and not like plants?"
It struck me too late that it was the sort of question that might drive Knives to kill. But he simply looked at me and shook his head.
"'Why do we look human?' is what you are afraid to ask," he stated.
I nodded.
"I don't know, and Vash doesn't know either. We've both tried to find out but there's no one left who knows exactly how the plants work and why. Communicating with plants isn't easy either. I was able to manipulate plants to make the angel arms, but why I don't have wings and can live outside a bulb is a mystery to me."
He spoke a bit more, staring fixedly at the horizon.
"I took the fact that we were not as delicate as bulb plants to mean that I was meant to give revenge for all the ways in which humans mistreat plants. Because you know that what we saw back there is the least of what humans have done to my kind. But the truth might be much simpler. It may be that we contain human genes. You can imagine how little I want to admit that."
I wondered why he had admitted it to me.
Suddenly he turned again to face me. "I have a question," he stated.
I nodded.
"Why did you never kill me?"
"Kill you?" I was shocked.
"Milly Thompson, don't tell me the thought has never crossed your mind."
During the time I had helped him during his recovery, I had often wondered if it wouldn't be easier to let him die. And I remembered thinking I could have left him for those men to kill. But I had never considered killing him in cold blood.
"You had a lover," said Knives flatly. "And he's dead now, because of me."
I turned away from him.
"I don't want to talk about Nick," I said. The pain I felt when Nick died was not something I wanted to share with Millions Knives.
"You can't tell me that he would have wanted you to let me live. Don't forget, I knew him."
Nick himself had never shared his time with the Gung-Ho Guns with me. Tears were starting to come to my eyes. I tried to blink them away.
Finally I turned to face him.
"I don't know," I said in an exasperated voice. "I don't know what Nick would want me to do now. And I can't live the rest of my life wondering that, even though I did love him."
I choked on the word love.
"Right now I'm doing what I need to do, and that's to bring you back to Vash."
"And you don't harbor any anger?"
I did, of course, and it was beginning to flare up now. I told myself to measure my words carefully, that I must avoid antagonizing Knives.
But finally I turned to him, tears running down my cheeks. "Doesn't everyone on this planet have a reason to want to kill you? Should we all line up and take turns? What do you want from me?"
With a shock, I realized that I had put my hands on his shoulders. He simply stood there, looking into my eyes. Eventually he pulled my hands down but continued to hold them in his, still looking at me. I was surprised that he would voluntarily touch me, but in the end his hands felt just like anyone else's hands.
"I want to show you something else now. And then we will talk about humans."
I nodded. I wanted to remind him again that Vash and Meryl were waiting, but there didn't seem to be any point. I got in the jeep and got ready to go.