Author's chatterings: Oh dear. I'm slowing down. .-. I'm so sorry for that, everyone! I'll -try- to write more. What with school and all, it's hard, but I'll try! This chapter is, again, for Wolferz. Thank you so much, Wolfie. For all your help, encouragement, ideas and criticism. I am forever grateful! I wouldn't have made it past chapter eight if it wasn't for you. Also, I whack Knives in Ruru-chan's honor and beat him for the reviewers. Keep 'em comin', guys. :3
;Standard disclaimer applies.
Chapter fourteen: Revenge and Reverie
Airies' face contorted into an unconscious grimace as she tossed left and right in her bed. The more she rolled, the more the duvet continued snaking heavily down off the side of the mattress. Incoherent mumbles and strangled groans escaped her lips.
"It can't be…" she protested softly, subliminally scrunching the sheets in her palms. Airies gave a final turn to her right and the doona slumped completely down to the floor beside the bed. Her bare feet grew cold in the air and consequently caused her eyelids to flicker open. She peered blearily around in the semi-darkness and exhaled a waking sigh as she propped herself up.
'Another dream…' she thought wearily, tapping the fluorescent bedside light on. Dreams. Airies had them often. In fact, there had not once been a day in her life when she had not dreamt, whether during her sleeping hours or not. It annoyed her not that she got them so frequently, but instead that she had no idea why she got them. And she knew, that because of the similarity between all of them, they weren't just arbitrary. They were always about the same individual. At first, Airies could have sworn that it was herself. But as the visions thickened, there were little factors that pointed otherwise. It was mystifying, and the more Airies dwelled on the dreams, the more they eluded her understanding. Her prior dream had been of photographs and foreign emotion attached to them as if paper-clipped.
Dismissing it as always, she pivoted and dangled her legs off the side of the bed, donning her slippers. It was dark, still, and nearing midnight but Airies rarely slept longer than she needed. She detested sleeping at night, besides, and found it was far more relaxing to rest in the late hours of the afternoon. Her favorite pastime, too, could only be enjoyed at nighttime at its fullest. Airies had a strange fetish for wandering about the steel corridors of her home in the dead of night. She loved the way her footsteps echoed in the hollow tubes and continued to reverberate until they reached the yawning abyss of the central plant room. And she loved the way the white lights were dotted consecutively along both sides of the corridors so they shone up the walls like incandescent fountains. Walking the halls at night had a certain eeriness about it that enticed Airies. And she never tired of it. In her seventeen years of living in this empty, dead ship with only her father, Airies had not yet walked all of its passages and rooms.
She strode forward to her dresser and snatched up her hairbrush. Her sunny, golden hair was one of the things that Airies took great pride in. It was a hazard to keep tidy, however. It was long, almost down to her waist, straight, silky and untamed. Her father often expressed his contempt that it was so long, and demanded that it be cut short. But Airies wouldn't comply. She wouldn't even hear of tying it up. She simply attacked it with a brush when it got knotty and refused to do anything more.
Airies was thankful that it wasn't too matted this time. She began automatically with the knots at the bottom of her hair and worked upwards, unmindful of the usual 'crunch' of the metal teeth ploughing through the strands. The dresser mirror stared nonchalantly into Airies' foggy eyes as she did her routine. As her hands did their work, Airies took the time to stare back, not indifferently. Perusing her glass twin, she ran her eyes up and down the soft, but angular features. Her chin, nose and brow seemed to discreetly stick out, though her forehead was sheathed behind a fringe of the messy golden hair.
The overall pigment of her face was very light. Her skin was almost unnaturally white since she had very rarely been exposed to the brutal glare of the twin suns. Had it not been for her frosty and cloudy green eyes, she could have easily been mistaken as albino. Airies gazed at her eyes. Not really into them, but around them. Around her left eye, to be precise. She heaved a tiny sigh, observing the thin raised line that cut down through her brow, over her eyelid and a little into her cheek. It was ironic in a harsh way that such a small scar caused so much grief to Airies.
She barely remembered the circumstances under which it had occurred but, eight years ago, her father had administered something terrible and, in a way, crippled Airies for life. She could not recall anything about what had happened that night. Only that Knives' outburst had been sparked by a question. Airies had been scolded for talking back to her father many times before, but never as severely as this. From nowhere, Knives had slashed her across the face and greatly disfigured her shoulder. Her clavicle and part of her shoulder blade had been shattered and her eye nicked through its lid. Though they miraculously healed somehow over the years, she was left with a visible upward curvature in her left shoulder and scarcely had the use of her left eye at all.
But the real non-healing wound for Airies was that a small piece of her had broken away and she was detached from her father. As though stranded on a tiny island, Airies was somewhere that her father wasn't and she could never reach him. His ship had sailed and with it the answers to Airies' questions. Of course, she had forgiven Knives long ago, but the fact remained that the bond between them would never be the same. They were forever tied together as family, but there would never be harmony between them.
Airies put down the brush and swept her hair behind her ears. Staring pensively into her reflection and its defection, she found herself wishing that, just once, Knives could show her genuine love.
"I only wish for my father's love," she whispered to herself. Not understanding why, she gave herself a sympathetic smile and padded towards the door. The air in the corridor outside Airies' room was cool, almost chilled, and she quickly hugged herself for warmth as little goose pimples rose on her skin. She drew a small yawn and began to scuff down the hall. The ship was peaceful, as always and only the gentle humming of the neon lights dammed complete silence. Airies glanced about her as she walked, expressionless but comforted by her solitude. She descended down several passages, a flight of stairs and then entered the only working elevator on the ship and continued her journey downwards, not exactly sure of her destination.
The sleeping-chambers, though empty, looked almost like tombs, Airies thought as the lift went smoothly down and the great chasm that had been a cryogenic freezer loomed upwards. Putting her fingertips against the glass wall of the cabin, she felt the ghostly coldness of the concave room seeping in. It puzzled Airies as to why the freezer was suddenly active, but then it struck her that maybe Knives was conducting one of his experiments. He had done this before of course; tampered with the ship's faculties and conducted 'research.' Airies had not an inkling as to what Knives was actually doing since she had been forbidden to ever enter the freezer. Nevertheless, it didn't bother her. She had no interest in what her father got up to in his spare time. Nor did she care to walk the midst of a catacomb. The further she was from a room that smelt and felt of death, the better.
On that note, she exited the elevator and proceeded down another steel corridor away from that room. It was slightly warmer in the lower divisions of the ship, due to the constant activity of the plants. Though today the warmth was slightly cancelled out by the cold that was percolating the air from the cold sleep room. Airies ignored the temperature, however, and carried on towards one of the plant rooms, her eyes scanning the lit walls as she went.
She perfunctorily entered a code into a keypad and the door beside it slid open with a mechanical whirr. A cloud of mist billowed out of the room as it did so. Stepping inside and shutting the door behind her, Airies gazed absently up at the bulb-like plant before her. She felt humbled at its size and the cool, meaningful glow it radiated while purring quietly. Striding leisurely across the floor donned with a large, white '2', she climbed up the steps toward the controls. Everything seemed to be in order, Airies registered as she monitored the plant's power levels. She punched in a few keys and observed earlier records. No malfunctions, no spontaneous drops in power and no activity from the being within; everything was normal as it always had been. It was as though the plant was dormant. Airies wondered why this was, as she had known plants to be relatively temperamental. She looked it vigilantly up and down and stepped closer, attempting to discern the sleeping angel in its confines. Though, beyond a few white outlines, it evaded her.
She was about to lay her hands on the glass, when the door skated suddenly open. Knives appeared at the threshold, expressionless, in his usual finery with his arms folded behind his back. Airies jerked back from the plant and gave her father a gaze of respect that would escort a salute. Knives dissected her with piercing eyes as he toed up the stairs towards her. Airies trod cagily backwards a little and a hush fell on the room.
"Good evening," Knives said finally, giving Airies a smile that looked sort of asphyxiated. Airies nodded in response.
"Evening," she murmured, subtly looking away. Knives glanced down at the plant console and regarded the power levels as Airies had done.
"I saw you come in here," he said with an air as though questioning of Airies' motives.
"I noticed the freezer was active," Airies replied with the same questioning tone, though trying to remain reposed. She fiddled with a button at her cuff.
"Yes. Well…" Knives tapped in a few keys on the console and avoided Airies' gaze.
"Well what?" she asked curiously.
"Well, if you must know," Knives said tetchily, flicking a toggle, "I'm readying the chambers."
"Readying? Why?" Airies was puzzled. What was the need of starting the freezer if there was nothing to occupy it? She suddenly felt a little stab in the pit of her stomach. "You're not going to freeze me are you?" she asked reprovingly.
"Of course," Knives replied sardonically. "Don't be daft," he spat. Airies felt relieved.
"Then what are you doing it for?" she asked. Knives' eyes flashed about in thought.
"Well…" he began. "See…Airies, I have a task for you."
"A task?" Airies repeated wonderingly. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that…it's time," Knives replied with a strange sort of distance and meaning in his voice.
"I don't understand. Time for what?" Airies was at a complete loss as to what her father was getting at. He wasn't making a shred of sense.
"It's time I explained a few things to you, Airies," Knives replied, looking her in the eye and putting his hand on her shoulder as if consolingly. "You know that you are a plant," he said.
"Ye-es," Airies accepted uncertainly.
"All your life you have had dreams," Knives went on.
"Yes," Airies reiterated. Knives inhaled deeply.
"The time has come for me to tell you that you have had those dreams because…" He sighed ruefully. "Because all your life, someone has attempted to infiltrate your mind," he said.
"Wh-what?" Airies gasped, gawping. "Why?" Questions raced mercilessly fast around her mind.
"We're plants. We are superior beings, Airies," Knives said authoritatively. "The humans…they want to use us. And they targeted you because you were young and easily...manipulated."
"I'm not!" Airies corrected quickly with indignation.
"No. You are older now and you are strong," Knives coincided.
"But why didn't you tell me you knew?" Airies demanded.
"Airies…" Knives said quietly. He stepped forward and gently put his arms around his daughter. "I had to protect you." Airies cringed a little at the stiffness of the hug. She couldn't fathom if there was love in this embrace or not. Her arms stayed limp at her sides and she did not return Knives' gesture.
"Airies," Knives repeated, "it's time for the human race to pay for what they have done to our kind." Airies nodded and suddenly felt a new emotion stirring in her. It was anger.
"Starting with the one who has tried so desperately to take you," Knives continued.
"Yes," Airies agreed.
"It's time for you to find them before they find you. This is your task. Find them and return them to me. I will make them pay for what they have tried to do to you," Knives growled, his voice intense.
"I will!" Airies exclaimed. "Now!" And with that, she sped from the plant room as though there were wings on her heels. Knives watched her go and smirked as he heard the pulley of the elevator clunk into motion.
Finally, he thought, after seventeen years of waiting and perfecting his masterpiece, his plan was in motion again. And all it took was a simple lie. Knives knew what Airies' dreams were really about and why they occurred, but the fact of the matter was that Knives had deceived Airies the seventeen years of her life and he wasn't about to stop now. Not now that he was so close to achieving his goal. Soon, the humans would pay. But before it was their turn, it would be Vash's.
'You refuse to acknowledge me, brother,' Knives thought heatedly. 'You refuse to acknowledge your own kind and you refuse to acknowledge your own identity.' He scowled at the images of Vash that his mind produced.
'You are a plant, brother. But if you wish to be as human, you will be treated as human.'
Knives would have his revenge. He would cause Vash and his precious spiders eternal pain and suffering. And he would do it through Vash's own children. Knives ran a hand through his ice blonde, smiled to himself and subsequently burst into malignant laughter.
The plot thickens! You know what to do. :3