CHAPTER EIGHT: Define 'Evil'

PART THREE…Iconography in the Void…

"Daddy, I don't want to go. Simple as that," Tessla repeated, dropping heavily onto the couch. She clicked the projection wall on, staring at the evening dramas.

Vash stomped into the main room, tugging violently at a tie round his neck. "What do you mean, baby bear? You've done so well these past couple months – now's not the time to get shy," he added.

Tessla flipped to another projection channel, drawing her legs beneath her.

"Go change into that dress your mom made you; you can't wear that," he maintained, gesturing to her short, short skirt and ruffled top. Pausing, his hands fell from the tie, defeated. "It's a dress up event," he whined.

"Please, daddy, don't make me go," she begged, turning wide eyes to her pliable father.

Vash sighed, going back into the bathroom to puzzle out the tie in the mirror. "Really, it's not so bad. You're making it sound like we're off to face some terrible enemy or something. Tonight's real important, to your mom and to us all."

Turning back to the wall, Tessla wrinkled her nose. "But it's so embarrassing." Knowing she wouldn't win out, she chose to do this, but only for daddy. "Not for her," she whispered.

"Huh?" Vash called.

"Nothing," she replied in a sing-song voice, pulling off her outfit to wear that frumpy, long, turquoise number her mom had churned out for the event. "Just that she's only authoritarian when it suits her and she doesn't deserve you, that's what," she whispered in a reply meant for no one. Standing to look in the full-length mirror, she frowned, fists balled at her sides. No, this would upset daddy. Her hands fell limp, face slowly softening to a false smile. She raised her eyebrows to the necessary height and straightened her posture.

"There's my Tessla!" Vash announced triumphantly, walking over with the strangled tie adjusted almost correctly. "Looking good!"

She rolled her eyes playfully. "Whatever." She ran a brush through her chunky hair, cropped into a cut popular on Earth at the time. "Promise you won't embarrass me?"

"Can't promise that." Smiling, he waited for her to finish and escorted her from their rooms.

OXO

The sickening feeling in her stomach became stronger, but was luckily not as intense as it would have been had she perfect vision. Like she was, she couldn't see their faces when they saw the images, couldn't see the rejection and stares she assumed were occuring. And if someone recognized her, she would just deny it and ship security would help her. Yes, it would be fine, so long as she didn't focus on anyone's face.

"Mrs. Saverem?"

Vanessa turned to see the blurry persona of a random crewmember. She shook the man's hand and smiled.

He hid a wince at the scarring across her cheek. "Nice to meet you, I've heard so much about the works. So nice to see real physical art out here in nowhere, you know? And it's fantastic, really."

"Thank you," she murmured, waiting for him to turn back to his date. She let go of that breath she'd been holding in. Years of hiding and running left her with plenty of fear, and old habits of mistrust of humanity die hard.

She moved towards a panel and stared, calming herself with a familiar image.

"Vanessa!"

Turning, she saw Vash. In excitement, he hugged her quickly and regained an awkward air of sophistication. "This is really ritzy. Rem used to tell me about art museums back on Earth, and this is just what I envisioned," he whispered, turning around to view the large exhibition area. "To think it's really a gym space…And your paintings fill every wall."

Vanessa checked the scarf about her ears and grinned nervously. "Yeah. Prolific. Vash, how many people are here?" she whispered.

"Well, they're still coming in, but now, I'd say only about a hundred-"

"Are you serious?" she hissed, teeth bared in fright. "Maybe this was a mistake."

Vash put his arm around her shoulder. "Don't say that. I'm not surprised, that the first time an officer saw the paintings, word of mouth led to this. Your paintings are really something."

Vanessa's muscles softened some. At least with Vash there, there'd be someone to carry the conversation who wasn't scared shitless. "Thanks. But where's Tessla?"

"Oh she's over there, with her friends. She acts like it's embarrassing to be seen on the walls here, but I'm sure she's proud. We all are. Oh, and Meryl and Salem and Millie said they'll be here a little late, but they're excited, too."

Breathing deep, she took his hand.

He glanced over his shoulder at the not-so-little-anymore Tessla, acting quite grown up with her classmates. She seemed shrunk in a shadow, avoiding recognition. People were glancing over, though, to the gorgeous little face on the panels, to the girl, and back. They knew. He just hoped she really was hiding pride; that this stubborn disgust was a front or a phase.

The gym swelled with warm bodies, wide eyes taking in the unexpected. The beauty and vibrancy of the paintings was amazing, colors nearly blinding. There were faces, some repeated, some huge, and landscapes everyone knew she hadn't seen. Plenty came to seek her personally, praising her. She took it gracefully, hiding fear, and let Vash appear the talkative one. It wasn't the commendation he was enjoying, it was the massive amount of human interaction he loved. That was his field, not hers. Vanessa only wanted to sell a panel or two.

Paint and canvas supplies were expensive, and Vash's salary wasn't sufficient. With this growing girl in the family now, there was a real need for extra income. A few hundred credits would be nice, but she didn't expect much for her works.

But she underestimated the wealth of the highest crewmembers on the ships. Word had, indeed, spread like wildfire, and suddenly she found that several commanding officers were deadly serious in art collection.

"Mrs. Saverem, may I speak with your agent?"

Vanessa blushed. "I don't have one. I mean, I manage myself."

The plump old man cleared his throat and narrowed his eyes. "Well then, I'd like to talk with you. I'm looking for the prices of several works."

"They're flexible," Vash mentioned. "Show us which ones and name your price."

The group walked to an indicated panel and watched the man squirm. "Name my price? Really…Well, don't take this as an insult, Mrs. Saverem, but is ten a fair amount for this piece?"

Vash looked a bit shocked. "That's kind of low!"

The man began to sweat a bit. "I understand. Twenty then. There are two others I'm interested in, perhaps 50,000 credits would suffice for the lot?"

Biting his tongue, Vash's face flushed. He felt her squeeze his arm.

"For which others?" she asked.

Now reddening, the man pointed to his choices. "Again, I apologize if I seem insulting, but I simply must have them!"

Maintaining her composure, Vanessa pursed her lips. "50,000 for the three…But that far one is a favorite of mine, the one of my young daughter in the forest. I surely can't let it go for that."

"60,000. But I really can't go higher," the man offered, nearly in a whine.

Vanessa paused, then sighed. "Fine, then. We'll discuss payments in a bit, alright?"

The man nodded, smiling. He shook her hand with a sweaty palm. "Thank you. And it's so nice to meet you, Mrs. Saverem."

After he'd walked away, Vanessa squealed quietly. "Did I hear that right?"

Vash's jaw hung open. He stared at her without reply.

"What? He could afford it."

"I guess so," he replied, in awe, rubbing the back of his hair. "You know, that's enough to send Tessla to specialized college on Earth and-"

"Shh!" she interrupted. "Here comes another!"

This one was a younger woman, unattractive, with an air of importance. She introduced herself and met the two of them, and small-talked a bit to work her way into a deal. "The short haired blonde man with the machinery and plant life – I'd like that one for 31,000 credits."

Vanessa was taken by her attitude but knew this was too good to let pass. "35 and no less."

The woman haggled, but 35,000 was the final price, and the woman paid up front.

She wasn't the last to buy, nor the most generous in her offers.

"Specialized college and a craft," Vanessa whispered later. "We can set up a fund for Tessla immediately."

"Don't think about spoiling her in the future. College, sure, but don't you think you can utilize some yourself?"

She shrugged. "What do I need…"

He lightly touched the cloth over her ear and cheek. "You need to not be afraid anymore. On Earth, money buys medical attention. Medicine has advanced enough to…well…"

Vanessa contemplated the possibilities. No one could offer a cure for her damaged vision, but plastic surgery could transform her elongated ears into normal ones, her facial scarring into normal skin. She touched his hand at her cheek. Perhaps he was right – this could be her course from condemnation. But was it fair?

Tessla burst in from behind. "You got that stuff for a reason," she sighed, referring to her mother's scarring. "It's part of you now."

Vash shot her a hurt glance, but Vanessa simply set her jaw, and she nodded.