CHAPTER TWELVE:  EMIGRATION  (cont1)

     Technology far more advanced than the lost sort that residents of Gunsmoke built superstitions about was suddenly abuzz in every inhabited corner of the planet.  Silent hovercrafts soared above the sands, rushing to inform all humankind of the emigration.  Everyone was told to gather in May, where food, lodging, and rehabilitation seminars were to be provided. 

     At first, people were suspicious, wary of being dazzled too easily by such tales of fancy.  But as they came to realize the great things awaiting them on Earth, they softened to the alien guests.  Sure, the newcomers talked funny, what with their big fancy words, accents, 'proper English', and weird slang, but they were good people.  Earthlings became known as the most intelligent, healthiest humans ever.  Before long, fathers were encouraging their sons to join the Earth military upon arrival, and mothers attempted to match their daughters to the fine Earthmen.

     Any complaints or mistrusts were easily put aside once people arrived in December.  They dined on the finest-tasting foods and enjoyed something called 'air conditioning,' which made life like Heaven.  The endless shows of a dazzlingly realistic quality displayed the wonders Earth life had to offer.  On Earth, no one went hungry, or was alone.  Everyone could find love and happiness, wealth and success, nature and inventions.  War hadn't broken out in any of the main four countries in the last 54 years, and the exquisite criminal corrections systems insured peace for residents of any section of society.  A mammoth 2-year fundraiser had raised sufficient funds to provide housing and resources for the emigrants.  New industries had been encouraged to secure openings for all new labor, and the education and training necessary to utilize the advanced technologies would be provided for in entirety on the ride back to Earth.

     Orientation for Gunsmoke residents was a process, and began quite slowly.  Such primitive people had to be eased into this level of sophistication.  Weeks passed, and the progress was highlighted by the drastic decline in drunken merriment.  The excitement had dulled to relief, and even Vash and Vanessa came to relax.

     Slowly, Knives' eyes cracked open.  He groaned, finding himself once more in the gentle nightmare of captivity.

      "Good evening, Knives.  Vash made a wonderful lasagna for you," Vanessa informed softly.  Stitches removed, she could now smile fully.

     Placing a spoon in Knives' right hand, Vash grinned.  "I didn't burn it this time."

     Knives squinted in the sudden light, and yawned.  He jostled his limbs a bit to learn that they were still secured by straps and chains.  "I feel like shit.  Vanessa, I hope you realize that you're slowly killing me," he growled, beginning to dive into his food with the one free hand.

     Vanessa smirked at the comment.  "You'll be fine…in time.  Considering what you've put me through, you can chalk this all up to my own revenge.  I mean, since you think that back when Vash had you tied in bed at his place, it was because Vash wanted revenge for your nasty tricks towards him.  Nothing terribly personal, just friendly retribution.  And only temporary, of course."

     Scowling, Knives fell back into his pillows, panting merely from the effort of eating.  Such slight movements were all he could handle in his weakened state, proof that he had no way out.  Beads of sweat began to form on his brow as he caught his breath.  His steely blue eyes focused uneasily on Vanessa.  "You know…I would still forgive you.  If you changed your mind," he whispered to her.

      "I'm still deciding," she murmured, reaching for a bottle of medicine and a syringe.  "For now, I've got to put you under again.  Alright?"

     In his condition, he could still have given a struggle.  Yet he hadn't.  Something inside him had changed, and he could no longer question her methods.  Somehow, he sympathized with her determination, to keep him alive and save the humans as well.  He had come to admire that about her, that she was so strong.  These newfound emotions led him to a new conclusion – that it would be difficult to break her spirit when the time came; he would almost hate to see the fire in her die.  But it was for the good of the species, he reminded himself, justifying the plans in his mind.

     Dropping his arm back into the open cuffs, he allowed Vash to buckle and lock him into place as Vanessa delicately injected the chemicals.  "Goodnight, Vanessa."  Those sad, gorgeous eyes closed once more, not to be seen again until tomorrow night.

      "Oh, things are going well.  He's been well-behaved.  And Vanessa thinks she'll be able to see colors and shapes soon," Vash explained cheerfully, helping the girls with their luggage.  "But we'll still have to wait until nearly takeoff to board."

     Meryl frowned.  "If you miss it, I swear…"

      "Yeah, Mr. Vash, we really want to spend time with you on the ride to Earth!" Millie agreed, turning their weaponry in at the bins outside the loading ramp.  "Peaceful days just wouldn't be fun without you!"

     Vash smiled.  "You know I'll try!  Don't worry about me, I'll be fine whatever happens."

     Millie fumbled for her new ID.  "What're you going to do about the medical check, Mr. Vash?  They said you can't get these card things without it."

     He shrugged.  "We've got to cooperate, and hope that we slide by.  We'll do things by the rules, and with any luck things will turn out okay."

     A man in a very clean outfit walked towards them, "Good afternoon, ladies!  I'll be taking your luggage and get you moved into your quarters.  Remember, once boarded, you must remain aboard.  Ready?"

     Meryl nodded, but turned to shake Vash's hand.  "Bye."

     Vash grinned, and took her into a hug.  "Vanessa says goodbye, since she couldn't come.  Take care of yourselves.  I'll try to keep things as safe as possible."

     Millie flew at them, crying and hugging as tightly as she could.  "Oh, Mr. Vash!"

     As the pain of the last, truest goodbye hit them, they all began to cry.  After prying themselves apart, the two girls slowly marched away from him, into the unknown, perhaps for the last time.

     When Vash returned to the basement, he couldn't find Vanessa.  "Hey, where are you, Vanessa?" he called, knocking on the bathroom door.

     He received no answer, but thought he heard a light groan from Knives' room.  Opening the door, he saw her lifting herself from the floor.

     Vash rushed to Vanessa.  A thin trail of blood ran from her forehead down the side of her face, and she sat cradling her head in her hands.  "What happened, did you hit your head on that shelf again?" he asked, checking through her hair for the wound.

      "No…oh, no…"

     He tilted her face up and his throat tightened.  "Um, what is it then?" he responded, voice full of hope.

      "He's gone," she answered, shaking her head miserably.  "His body was adjusting to the doses more than I'd guessed…Before his afternoon injection, he came to consciousness for too long.  He cut the monitor; I didn't know!  I…and when I went in there, he was escaping, and he…"  She sighed, heart racing.

     A little chunk of the ceiling lay beside her.  It looked as though Knives had carved it to drop on her head, knocking her out to quiet her during his flight from the basement.

      "He was almost out of the chains and all, so I hurried to inject, but they were sliced up as soon as I…The angel arm, he used it to get out, but he sounded like it took all he had to…Tired and panting, but enough to leave.  And he…he asked me if I was going to…with him…So I told him to find me at the ships' last call and I'll give him my…um, my decision…It's the only thing…to…um…and then I fainted or something, and…and you got here…just now…"

      "Okay.  So…we'll anticipate the things he planned before.  And we wait until last call, and…"  Vash cleared his throat, and hugged her tight.  "We'll see.  I'll think of something."

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