DISCLAIMER: Trigun and its characters belong to Yasuhiro Nightow.
"Right, then. Let's move."
Ranger led the way out, insurance girls in tow. Meryl stopped at the swinging doors to cast one last glance toward Vash, silently pleading with him to change his mind. Not just for her sake – our sake, she corrected – but his. He needed to fight against whatever was inside him, not run from it.
But Vash turned away from Meryl. He was determined to run. She had to accept that there would be no help from him.
Fine. If Vash felt this was what he had to do, so be it; Meryl would do what she had to do, and hopefully she could find a way to bring back the Vash she knew. She hurriedly caught up with Milly, falling in step with her behind Ranger.
A breeze blew sand loosely as they walked. The dry wind brushing against her skin made her more aware of Gunsmoke's heat, the twin suns making themselves felt though it was hours still until midday, but it wasn't the temperature making her hands sweat. She wiped them against her pants. Glanced at Milly, whose posture was straight and confident as she walked with the rifle Barkeep had given her cradled in her off arm, gun hand keeping a firm grip with index finger clear of the trigger. Milly's return glance, though, betrayed the uncertainty in her eyes.
"Are you absolutely sure about doing this?" Meryl asked Ranger, anxious in spite of herself. "Standing against numerical superiority isn't exactly logical."
"Town ain't called Spock."
"I'm sorry?"
Ranger stopped, turning to face them. "Ain't your fight, and you can still duck out any time before we get there. But if people here only did what was logical, this town wouldn't exist. The people who first made Kirk would still be in the places they came from, because nobody logical leaves a place where the existence of plants puts them above baseline in Mazlow's hierarchy, even if that means dealing with a whole dune of suits and laws.
"Getting Kurtz is the best card I've got; I intend to play it. And it has to be now – you heard Finch well as I did, near the whole outfit is there."
"What does that actually mean beyond negotiating from strength?"
"Means whatever plans O'Brien's got, she's stepping them up. Maybe because she thinks I figured out what she wants, maybe because she thinks a fight's unavoidable now. Whatever the reason…look, you want to be logical, follow this logic – he kills one of them, they kill him, and nobody in Kirk is going to let that pass. Nobody could touch Big Sister or hers on Harrington's murder, and they're chomping at the bit after the Hydes. Dodd gets killed, it won't matter whether he fired first – these good people will rise up for the sort of fight it takes bad people to win. They put the badge on me to protect them and that's what I intend to do, even if it's from getting themselves killed.
"You come with, or you don't. But my gut instinct is I have to do this, even if it's a Kobayashi Maru. And like someone once said – 'intuition, however illogical, is recognized as a command prerogative'."
That apparently settled the matter, Ranger turning and walking like nothing had happened.
"That didn't really make me feel better," Milly said.
"Me, either," Meryl confided quietly. "But listen – nobody here is a client, and Vash isn't involved in this. I can't order you –"
"I already told you, Meryl – I'll back you. You're not just my partner, not even just my sempai…you're my friend."
Meryl smiled. "Now that makes me feel better. And I'm sorry for dragging you into this with me, but I have to stand where he can't. I said I wouldn't run away."
Milly gave a short nod. "I understand. You promised the Chief."
"No, I – never mind, let's just catch up."
The rest of the trip was silent for a while. They weren't running, but neither were they moving slow by any means. It felt to Meryl that by the time Ranger stopped, they had covered just over an ile. Maybe a couple kilometers.
The man with the badge turned to face them, squatting down and motioning for them to do the same. "Just over that hill –" Jerked his thumb behind him. "– is Dodd's coops. Place is walled-in like so." Drew a rectangle in the sand with his finger. "Coops are in the back area here, downwind of the house, which is smack center right here. Troughs in the front end on the sides, like so. Only way in or out is the two-gate airlock – if you don't know how it works, there's an inner gate you go through first so when you leave you don't let a bolting thomas out."
The insurance girls nodded – country girl Milly had grown up around thomas coops, and city girl Meryl had roamed around outside cities often enough in her capacity as a Bernardelli agent to be familiar with them as well. When leaving a coops, you went through the inner gate first. You didn't leave through the outer gate until the inner gate was closed.
Ranger continued, "It's smaller than most operations, but inches can feel like iles when bullets fly, and the only cover in the front end is those troughs. So we keep it quiet and slow and don't let them know they're there until we want them to."
He looked at each insurance girl individually, locking eyes for several moments each before instructing, "You two follow my lead. They'll think my paper is a joke until it's not, so stay in check. Don't draw until I do. When we face them, make sure you two are spread out from me, don't give them easy targets.
"Remember, this ain't no shootout. We're there for two things – get Kurtz, stop them from pushing Dodd. They may make it a shootout, in which case we shoot back, but until they do we keep talking. The goal's to stop a war, not start one. If it does hit the fan, make sure your shots count. Questions?"
"What's a wakizashi pardue?" Milly asked.
"Didn't copy, say again?"
"That thing you said earlier, when you were talking about intuition being illogical."
Ranger thought back. "Kobayashi Maru, you mean?"
"Yes, that."
"Something the locals use when they're talking about a no-win situation. The way they say, it was some kind of test tailored to each person who took it, supposed to be unbeatable. Until someone finally did."
"Ok. Thanks for explaining."
She shifted gears so easily, a man could get whiplash trying to keep up with her. But Ranger had other things to worry about. "Unless there anything else, let's –"
"No killing."
Ranger and Milly both stared at Meryl, herself hardly able to believe she had voiced it.
"Say again, ma'am?"
Meryl drew in a breath. She had spoken the thought. She would defend it.
"I said no killing. I understand we're entering into a dangerous situation, but that doesn't mean it's ok to kill just because they shoot first and it's the most expedient way of eliminating a threat. We're not them."
Ranger's eyes held the hardness of diamonds without the beauty. "I think you misunderstand reality, ma'am. When someone's trying to kill you, the best way to not die is to kill them first."
"The easiest way," she snapped back. "The best way is to find a way where nobody dies."
"You're seriously telling me to shoot to wound?"
"Yes. We need to avoid killing anyone."
"And why's that so important to you?"
Meryl heard Vash's words again. "I go out there with a gun on, I can't guarantee people won't die; I can't guarantee I won't be the one that kills them!"
"It just is! It's imperative that we not be killers!"
Ranger's diamond eyes bored a hole in hers. She stared back unflinchingly for a very long thirty seconds or so, Milly glancing nervously between the two parties in this sudden battle of wills.
He finally nodded, willing to at least compromise. "Too late for me. But if I think I can stop someone without a kill shot, I'll try. Best I can promise."
"I'll take it." Meryl exhaled with relief that she didn't have to further examine her motives. Milly, just as relieved that the disturbance was over, smiled broadly and patted her shoulder.
As they went back on the march, Ranger observed, "After a lady named Jamie, you're the second person I've heard of to think you can be on Gunsmoke and not be a killer. Pretty naïve, you ask me."
"Yeah," Meryl said almost to herself. "I used to think so, too."
Thomases were high jumpers, able to jump over three meters, so it made sense for Dodd's land to be walled-in. As the group approached, it became apparent that these walls were of sandbrick, slightly under five meters tall. Meryl suspected that even in a town that chose to be isolated, the sandbrick was at least similar to the high-strength sandbrick produced elsewhere on Gunsmoke. The airlock system Ranger had mentioned was made of two gates that matched the wall in height, each a metal frame with a grid of heavy-gauge wire housing a door structured the same, just large enough to fit a thomas's size.
Ranger paused at the first gate, first cautiously looking through for anyone looking their way, then studying the two insurance girls in thought. He pointed at Milly. "You first."
Milly came forward a bit uncertainly. Ranger gave a reassuring nod and knelt down, lacing his hands to form a stirrup. Launching the rifle over the gate first, she placed one foot in his hand, grabbing onto the gate's grid. Pulled herself up as he boosted, grabbing higher and swinging the other foot onto the grid. She was unsure of herself but climbed quietly enough, swinging over with just a bit of effort and climbing down the other side.
Ranger repeated the boost with Meryl. Being lighter and smaller than Milly, she had an easier time of the climb. Then he went last, climbing as quietly as he could, swinging over to the other side and dropping down softly. They echoed the procedure with the second gate, until all three were inside Dodd's property.
It wasn't as big as some coop areas Milly had seen; there were operations that could handle thomases numbering in the triple digits at any given time, a few taking up such amounts of land that you could walk all day and not cover it. As Ranger had said, this one was smaller than most in size, likely housing enough to provide thomases for the townspeople and possibly anyone else who came out this far to ride, with most probably being raised as food; that made the most sense, if everyone in the local economy exchanged services and goods in lieu of money. There was a wide open space from here to the house in the center of the property for thomases out of their coops in the rear of the property to be able to run and romp while the coops were cleaned. Near each side wall was a column of large sandbrick water/food troughs, spaced apart by several meters each, allowing Dodd's thomases comfortable spacing when feeding and watering and thereby reducing the potential for peckfights.
She was yanked from her reflections by a hard tap on the shoulder by Ranger. Suddenly realized from the back-and-forth she could hear carrying in the desert air from closer to the old man's house that the situation was already at a tense level. Worse, they were in the open middle area - she could see the large group of men, backs to the trio, which meant if anyone turned he could see them as well. She followed Ranger as he led them at a pace that balanced quick and quiet behind the nearest trough.
He kept his voice to a murmur. "Follow me. Stay low." Led the way, staying close to the wall and advancing from trough to trough until they were behind the first trough in the column. Things were tense, indeed – ninety or so meters away from them, the O'Brien men were loosely spread out facing the house, confronting a grizzled old man with more-white-than-gray hair and beard that was nonetheless immaculately trimmed, skin turned to leather by decades under the Gunsmoke suns. Despite his age, his hands were rock-steady as they held a carbine with a twenty-round magazine. There was a lot of taunting and woofing afoot, and Ranger was quietly amazed that old grump Dodd, never known for staying calm, had managed his temper this well so far.
Milly eased her anxiety by hearkening back to her days growing up with her family; for the moment, this was not a potentially lethal confrontation, it was a field trip with her siblings. A trace of a smile appeared as she, silently as she could, checked the rifle for grit, remembering her first time out for varmint control. She had been so nervous that she fired at the first sound she heard. Completely missed the stink-stripe critter but succeeded in scaring it bad enough that it sprayed one of her brothers before running off. Boy howdy, it had taken close to a month before any girl he wasn't related to would go near him again!
Meryl was tense, her mouth suddenly dry. Forced herself to a semblance of calm with 4-count breathing – breathe in for a count of 4, hold for 4, breathe out for 4, hold for 4, repeat. Wiped her hands on her pants for the umpteenth time. She was tired from lack of sleep, beyond dirty from the events of last night's fire and ensuing burials of the Hydes, and now here she was preparing to step into what looked like beyond 10-to-1 odds. Worries about Vash tickled the back of her mind, not making any of this easier.
But regardless of whether anybody here was a Bernardelli client, this was the job. A simple case of risk prevention, that's all it was…
Ranger had only been up against odds like this once before, in a life that belonged to someone he no longer was. Was it worse then, not knowing what it was going to be like…or now, when experience told him what to expect?
He shrugged. What the hell, you have to die of something.
Pulled out the three sets of plugs Barkeep had given him, handing one each to the insurance girls, who followed his lead of inserting them in their ears. They would make it just a bit harder to hear regular speaking volume, but would protect from hearing damage if gunfire did indeed break out.
After one final glance confirmed no one was looking their way, Ranger signaled the insurance girls to follow. Stepped out from behind his concealment, easing his way roughly into the midpoint between this trough and its counterpart on the opposing wall. Meryl and Milly took positions to either side of him, spaced well apart so that each of the three was a separate target. Only when they nodded their readiness did he make the trio's presence known.
"Kurtz!"
The slow working-up to gunplay ceased, the crowd gone silent at the called name that carried over the din. It was actually kind of disturbing how suddenly noiseless the air was, the only sound the soft stirring of the hot breeze. Men turned to see what was the interruption.
Good enough, so far. They were caught off their game, the familiar monkey dance of verbal provocation to violence disturbed. There seemed to be an ok chance of pulling this off.
Ranger's target was at the front of the pack, toward the house. Men parted as Kurtz came to confront the man with the badge. At the door to his house, Dodd kept his carbine leveled, the veteran letting this new wrinkle unfold as it would but staying on guard.
Kurtz emerged just at the edge of the crowd, a predator's smile on his face. "Ranger," he called across the distance between them. "You sure you're up for this? You do look the worse for wear." Laughter sounded from the men behind him, the cocky laughter of people with numbers on their side.
The O'Brien gunman let the predatory smile drift over the insurance girls. "You've brought a couple of ladies I only got to meet in passing. Thanks. What happened to your friend, ladies? Didn't he want to come, too?"
Before Ranger could say anything, Meryl managed to sound cool and collected as she stated, "He doesn't need to dirty his hands with the likes of you!"
"Yeah, we only have so much soap and don't want to waste it!" Milly declared. Many pairs of eyes shifted to her in curious puzzlement for a moment before returning to the confrontation at hand.
Ranger had taken advantage of the moment to produce a folded-up piece of paper with his off hand, a snap of his wrist opening it. With everyone's focus back on him, he held the paper high. "This is an arrest warrant, fully authorized by the town charter of Kirk and thereby recognized and enforceable under federal law, for the man known as Kurtz, on charges of willful murder and arson. This gathering is hereby ordered to disperse and Kurtz to surrender himself into custody, or else!"
Meryl's eyes flicked over to Ranger, slightly surprised that he had any familiarity with a legal vocabulary the people of Kirk seemed to shun.
He was good, she gave him that. The delivery of his declaration and keeping the warrant held high had distracted people from noticing when he drew his gun. She herself had seized the moment to palm two derringers, and Milly's rifle had gone from being semi-hidden at her side to a low ready that could easily be snapped up to a point-shooting position. While the intention was to keep talking, it's always good to be ready to act should the talking stop.
"A warrant, Ranger? Law?" Even from this distance, it was easy to see the dark amusement on Kurtz's face. "You and I both know the only law that matters is natural law. The law that says survival goes to the best killer."
"You're resisting arrest?"
"I'm saying you can have me – if you're the one who can kill me."
Ranger shook his head, making sure he spoke loud enough for the entire O'Brien group to hear. "What is it about me that makes you think I'd come in here with nothing but balls-to-the-wall? You really think I'm the kind of man that takes this badge so seriously I wouldn't ask the people of this town to risk their lives and back me up? I've got fifty men positioned right outside the walls; I give the signal and they come in guns blazing. You do things my way and give up Kurtz, you live. You don't, it doesn't matter what happens after that, none of you will be alive to care. Hand him over!"
A long moment of still quiet followed. Meryl almost couldn't believe the man with the badge could bet on such a big bluff, but she clung to the chance it could work. After all, she had been there when Vash backed down those bank robbers with nothing but a finger in his pockets and a damn good poker face…
Ranger's poker face was just as good, but inwardly he knew he needed more than that. I ain't asking for a miracle, Lord, just a little bit of luck will do.
He didn't get the answer he wanted.
It was impossible to really say who did it, but in that everlasting moment of silence there carried through the desert air the distinct sound of a hammer being thumbed back. Usually such a small sound, but in this situation it was the god of war himself crying havoc.
Because with that small sound, the pandemonium of combat erupted.