CHAPTER EIGHT: Define 'Evil'
PART FOUR…New Brand of Innocent…
Salem finished his first glass of wine and sighed, smiling. "Good stuff. Great stuff. Damn, it's been a long time..."
Millie giggled, then stared off a bit.
"What?" he asked her, startled by her sudden somber expression.
"Oh, nothing. You just reminded me of someone, just now. He used to say things like that." She smiled, then shook her head and smiled, with closed eyes, up at him. "Forget it, it's nothing."
Salem shrugged, rather used to Millie's weird comments by then.
"Mr. Vash and Miss Vanessa are very generous, aren't they," Millie added, referring to the bottles of liquor from the luxury shop that Vash had supplied. The first thing he'd done after the gallery's close that night was ask Vanessa's permission to spend a bit of the credits on booze. Now, with Vash's old friends and a few new ones, they gathered to drink it in a rented social room.
Salem nodded. He'd already made the congratulations and small talk. Where was the wine...?
As the answer to his prayer, a bottle made for his glass, filling it to the brim thankfully.
Salem cared not from whom the liquor had been served. He turned his gaze back to the glass and sipped it. "I'm not sure I'm going to like this Earth place, if alcohol's a luxury only. So expensive. Not like Gunsmoke at all."
"Actually, the luxury-priced items onboard hardly reflect the reality of pricing on Earth," a young voice argued as soft hands brought a half-empty wine bottle to hug at her chest. Tessla sighed. "It's simply a trick, to raise ethical standards and keep minds clear from distraction during studies. On Earth, I'd wager that the same proportion of drunkards and drug addicts to non-users on Earth isn't far from that on Gunsmoke."
Salem's jaw dropped. "Huh?"
"Gosh, Tessla, you're as smart as your parents, aren't you?" Millie asked, smiling. She kind of caught the drift of what'd been said.
"Thanks. Anyway, there's actually a lot of stuff they claim and promote and frown upon that's not legit." She gestured at her mother-made gown. "Like this. The projection programs have lots of girls dressed like this, while in reality the fashions are far more casual and revealing. Most of this stuff's bull, if you ask me. I mean, like nobody cusses down there."
Nodding agreement, Salem gathered his wits. "You're, um…you're how old?"
"Seven, going on eight!" Millie helpfully lied, patting little Tessla's shoulder softly as she often did while visiting.
As Millie spoke, Tessla stared up at Salem with steely blue eyes and a flawless face of what could've been marble. "Like I said, most of what people tell you isn't true," she answered enigmatically. Moving to fill Millie's glass, Tessla continued. "It's a really clever thing to do to us, psychologically. For instance, painting supplies. They're luxury class, too, but in fact, on Earth, they're not expensive. But since the chances of someone making a living from painting are really slim, and the goal of this whole ark is to convert us all into good little worker bees, successes for the capitalist economies of the world we're headed toward, paint is a luxury item. Computers are free, but a tin of mineral spirits or bottle of wine costs lots of man hours."
Salem began to move past her age and focus on her words. "That's right. Huh. Which program did you see this on?"
She shook her head. "No, I came up with this on my own; they'd never project programs about this stuff."
"I see why."
"Kind of makes you feel like a marionette, huh?" Tessla added, grinning.
He chuckled, drinking his wine with a pleasant smile. "And when they pull the strings, we dance."
Tessla nodded emphatically, hugging the wine bottle proudly. She felt a twinge at her left, and glanced over to see her mother's angry glare several yards away.
'Act your age,' Vanessa mouthed. Her face softened to show her concern. 'He can't know.'
Tessla sighed and pursed her lips.
"No, it's okay," Meryl answered with a casual wave of the hand. She sauntered towards the exit with Salem, a few steps behind. "You are really buzzed."
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Okay. But I'm really sorry, really. I just think I've had enough, and my place isn't so far, and I hope you don't get lonely tonight without me, and you stay and have a good time, Meryl."
"Thanks. 'Night."
Salem waved and yawned, stepping out of sight.
Across the room, Vanessa was ushering a reluctant Tessla towards their rooms. "You've got to go to classes early tomorrow, and you've said enough tonight as it is." Frazzled and bored, Vanessa was clearly ready to leave the long get together.
These were Vash's friends, and he ought to be left to mingle with them. But for Vanessa, it was tiring and rather frightening.
She spotted Vash, but he was busy with a conversation, so Vanessa asked Vash's nearby teaching assistant to let him know they'd gone home.
"Goodnight, Mrs. Saverem, Tessla. I'll let him know."
There was too much booze, and Vash began to offer bottles to people as they left. Smiling, they took them, and Vash's heart glowed with the warmth of generosity. He was beaming from everything. Life was good.
At a far couch, two of his colleagues, a shy professor of microbiology and a gorgeous professor of genetic enhancement in food products, were chatting. Blushes shone on their cheeks, a twinkle in their eyes betraying what may become romance.
Vash grinned. Best to leave those two alone. He scanned the room for anyone of the few left, to talk with.
He spotted Meryl, fiddling with an empty wineglass, sitting in an armchair.
"That's a pretty dress," he complimented as he seated himself in the armchair beside hers.
"It's secondhand. I mean, thanks."
"You're welcome. What're you thinking about?" he asked. "Seems deep – important."
"Kind of," she admitted, cupping the bowl of the glass in her palms. "Thinking about plant kids. Wondering how, 150 years ago, you were a year-old super genius with the appearance of a grown kid. About how, in your life, people like me don't amount to anything. I'm the bat of an eye. When I'm gone, you'll forget me. People came and went in your life before, plenty of times, I'm sure. And there's no way you can think of them all, with perfect memory, every day. Your reality and my reality are…I don't know."
Vash smiled weakly. "That's not quite true, you know. I honestly do remember all of them. I could tell you the full description and life story of anyone I knew, as well as I ever knew. I love them all in ways. As much as it hurts, sometimes, I hope I never ever forget a thing about any of them."
"That's kind of depressing."
"No, it's not. Everyone has their own starry sky. Each point of light is a person, each an individual, in our minds. It's not something to be sad about. The way I see it, the only difference between my sky and everyone else's is that mine has way more stars."
Meryl sniffled. "That's a lovely way of putting it, Vash. Still, I'm far from jealous. It's taken me a while, but I think I'm finally beginning to understand how tragic your past really is. Immortality. Knives. I just hope things are safe for you, in the future. No more violence and wandering. I guess you have to wander, though. I don't know. Ignore me; I'm babbling."
"It's okay. I try not to think about the bad stuff, that's all. Think happy thoughts, Meryl!"
She smacked his cheek for that comment, but not hard enough for him to say, 'ouch.' "Dammit, Vash, can't I have one serious conversation with you? We always hide our deep thoughts, and just now, I don't want to think happy thoughts and stupid crap like that. Listen to me – I'm worried about you. I want you to be happy. And I want to be important to you and it's starting to make me feel guilty that I want that, since my place in your life as a dying creature will only depress you."
"You're…dying?" Vash asked, suddenly concerned.
"No. Yes. I mean, not anytime soon I don't think, but I will. I'm going to get all old and nasty. I don't think you should see that."
"Meryl, you growing old isn't what would depress me. That I can't age with you, and all the people I care for – the mortal ones – that's what depresses me." Vash sighed. "It's confusing, being like a brother to someone one moment, and like a great grandchild to them in the next. I can only get so close to people, but at least I can be with them when I get to. I love people so much."
"You do, don't you. You're the ancient watcher who wishes he was a real boy. Poor damn thing."
Vash took one of her hands from her glass and gripped it in both of his. "We're both breathing and we're right here, right now. Isn't that the neatest thing?" he commented genuinely.
Meryl smiled, laughing softly. She lifted her head and stared into his eyes for a while. She lost track of the world around her, perhaps because of the alcohol and time, perhaps because of the electricity of the moment. Feeling the warmth of his hands, her usual stern nature softened and she didn't care what happened next.