Vash was actually far from displeased as he hurried through his morning routine of gunfighting and three minute meditation so that he could hurry to meet Meryl at the stables as he'd agreed to the evening before. Knives had shown his disapproval with a look when Vash had said he was going out riding and not to wait but thankfully he hadn't interceded further than that.
It had been a while since he'd felt this anticipatory about anything. He wasn't even certain why either; Vash didn't expect anything to happen (and he was far from ready to admit to any tender feelings for her to anyone other than himself and certainly not to the object of them) but perhaps Meryl might take the time they were going to have alone to say something.
What should I do if she does? he wondered, half in panic.
It's far more likely that she won't, he tried to counsel himself. Given the wedding debacle he'd witnessed second-hand and her own cautious and contained nature, it was far more likely that she'd continue to keep her emotional cards close to her chest... but part of him hoped she wouldn't.
Putting Knives aside, I wouldn't mind if she did confess, he admitted to himself. Apart from her being a career woman "just doing her job" as the official line went they both knew it went beyond that. It was times like this when he mourned the loss of Nicholas Wolfwood; the incorrigible priest had been his best human friend ever and probably would have had some coarse though practical advice on the subject.
I'll have to be my own advisor I guess, he thought, trying not to pace. Knives was no help in that department; as far as he was concerned Vash should dump the two insurance girls and just travel around with him.
Not like that'll happen, Vash thought with a grimace. I love my bother, in an odd half-fearful sort of way, but he doesn't travel well at all. He couldn't imagine the two of them stuck in a jeep together in the middle of no-where with no-one else around to keep them occupied without also imagining the end of the world. Vash very much wouldn't have been surprised to discover that Knives had actually managed to recruit the four Horsemen as a secondary squad for the Gung-Ho Guns.
He was pacing just outside the stable as the suns began to peak over the horizon. He was leery of going into their lair when there were far more of them than there were of him, nightmare visions of how, precisely he had earned his nickname "the Stampede" replayed themselves in his head. Why, oh why had he agreed to do this again?
"No need to tie yourself in knots Vash," came a calm remarkably good-humored voice from behind him. "it's just a little tomas ride."
Meryl had a saddle and blanket slung over one shoulder and was holding on to the reigns of another tacked-up tomas with the other hand. She motioned him to follow her into the stable so she could outfit the beast he'd be riding on. Vash stood a respectful distance away from the creature, respectful being him hovering just at the doorway leading into the stables. Meryl rolled her eyes at him and led an unusually tall female tomas out of its confining stall to the center of the stables where one of the nearby stable hands began to briskly tack him up.
"Here, for starters let me show you a trick," she said, beckoning him closer. Vash walked over to her, keeping a wary eye on the beast before him. Frankly he didn't trust riding anything that could think for itself; it might decide it didn't like him and dump him somewhere. The beast looked placidly back at him from one large liquid eye, chewing its cud with no apparent care in the world.
Yeah, sure; he looks calm and gentle but underneath that zen-like exterior he's a simmering cauldron of rage against his oppressors.
"The key is to make friends with the creature first," Meryl said grabbing his hand and forcibly dragging him the last few feet closer. She put two sugar cubes into it and said
"Here, feed these to her. Show her you're her friend and talk to her a bit."
"Hey there!" Vash said shoving the cubes at the beast and waving with his other arm vigorously. The thing bounced back and tried to rear up, hooting loudly. Vash ducked backwards, yelling instinctively.
"Not so sudden." Meryl chided him, bringing the tomas back over and calming it down with soft noises and strokes down her neck.
"I told you this was a bad idea," he said. "Tomases and I, we just don't get along... never have, never will."
"Oh shush," she dismissed his claim. "That's because you haven't had a good teacher. Now... here," she said handing him two more sugar cubes. She took his hand and extended it slowly to the tomas so that it was a few inches away from his muzzle; the beast snuffled at the air for a bit.
"She's getting your scent," she explained. "Along with the scent of the sugar cubes and equating you with good things."
"To eat," he finished for her helpfully.
"Tomases aren't carnivores," she rebutted.
"Then what are they? There's nothing else to eat in the desert," he pointed out.
"Contrary to popular belief the desert insn't made entirely of sand you know," she replied. "These things just have the constitutions of super-goats and can eat those low scrubby brushes that grow in the Painted Desert and the Olympian Canyons, the cacti, tumble weeds and other hardy plants indigenous to the planet," she said logically.
He already knew all of this; one didn't live for over a hundred years on a planet and not learn about it, but talking helped ease his nerves. The tomas craned out its long stumpy neck at him (Meryl held him from backing away) and started to mouth the sugar cubes out of the palm of his real arm. Its lips were surprisingly soft and it made small grunty noises in it's throat in contentment.
"You're doing good, now take its snout in your hands. Don't be afraid she resists a little, just be firm with her."
Vash nervously did as she directed.
"Blow in her snout," she said. He looked at her in puzzlement but she gestured for him to proceed so Vash took a deep breath and--
"Softly," she cautioned. "Or you'll scare her again." After a short pause in which he did as she directed she said
"Now scratch at her cheeks, they love that, and talk a little at her. Keep your voice low and mellow, let her get used to your scent."
"Why is it that you don't have to do any of this?" he questioned as he watched her quickly and efficiently saddle a tomas in a neighboring stall without any of the preamble he was going through.
"They already know me," was Meryl's succinct reply. "Besides, I'm not the one who's afraid of tomases."
"I'm not afraid," he defended rather sharply. The beast before him gave a sharp grunt of surprise and looked at him warily. Vash quickly made shushing noises and stoked it's cheek-bones a little harder. After another moment the thing began sniffing him all over.
"What's she doing?" Vash asked nervously, holding stock-still.
"She's looking for more treats, give her one more cube then climb on her back." she directed.
"Right," Vash said. He knew how to get on a tomas. He had had to ride the things when there were no busses or other aoutmotive transports available, but Vash defnately did not like it. He gave the beast the sugar cube it was looking for and carefully moved round to the side. He put his toe into the loop for the stirrup and the beast shied to one side, looking back at him from the corner of one eye. He hopped closer on one foot (other still stuck in the stirrup-loop) and moved to try again. The wretched creature moved away again, making a hooting noise that sounded uncannily like laughter.
"This one's got a sense of humor," he noted with a grimace. Meryl tried (and failed) not to look amused when they repeated their little dance for a third time. When the tomas moved away once more, forcing Vash to hop after her like a human pogo-stick she definitely smothered a chuckle.
"Taka, stand!" she ordered firmly. The beast quieted with a soft sigh and continued regarding him from one eye, wondering if she might get away with another trick.
"You'd better listen to her Taka," Vash added, looking mischievously over at his teacher. "She always means business, just ask the patrons at her bar. They call her Old Faithful, because she blows up so regularly you can time your watch by her."
"I heard that mister," Meryl grumbled, giving him the evil eye for his jibe.
He at last heaved himself up into the saddle and settled in. Meryl gave a small cluck with her tongue and their party of two headed out down the small dusty path that wended its way through the vineyards. Meryl, oddly enough fell into place behind him, letting him take the lead. The answer as to why became apparent in a bit.
"You ride like an arthritic granny," she observed after a short while. "Stand up straighter, don't slouch. Posture conveys authority."
"Is that why you alway look like you have a stick shoved up your--"
"Just remember who's got whom in a position to fire at their unguarded backside," she warned him. "Now sit up."
He did as she said, snapping to attention on the tomas's back. Taka stopped suddenly in surprise. Meryl pulled up beside him and said
"Tomases respond to your body's clues and attitudes, as well as the usual signs, so be sure you're sending them the right signals."
He looked over sharply at her face to see if there was any hidden double meaning to her words but saw that her face was fixed firmly in an all-business mode. Meryl was concentrating solely on improving him as a rider and was completely oblivious to any double-entandres in her words.
"You have to be careful with this one," Meryl continued. "She's steady as a rock and doesn't bolt or shy nervously at things around her, which makes her good for beginners, but she's remarkably sensitive to posture and cues from the rider. Tomas and rider are a team, they're partners, if one partner's unsure of himself it makes the other partner nervous. When you move, you have to move together."
Vash nodded showing that he was listening to her. Sadly she didn't seem to see any double meaning in what she was saying and Vash didn't want to make her clam up by pointing it out; for a little while it would be nice just to pretend.
She had no idea. Simply no idea.
"Pretend there's a string at the top of your head holding up your spine," she said resuming her position behind and to the right of him to coach his riding. "Put your shoulders back a little but keep our arms loose. Forearms at forty-five degree angle from your biceps, grip the reins firmly but keep the line loose at the sides."
Vash tried to do as Meryl instructed and Taka leaned forward a little beneath him. Startled, Vash froze and tensed up.
"You have to relax," Meryl coached immediately. "Don't be self-conscious."
Vash straightened his spine and tried to relax a little. After a moment Taka grunted and started chewing her cud again.
"That's a good thing, right?" Vash questioned.
"Good enough," Meryl said. "Signal her to walk forward." Vash did so, conscious of his "teacher" riding along behind him, watching his backside.
"So," he said jokingly. "Are you enjoying the view?"
"Your ride like a sack of kelar-roots," Meryl replied.
That one just flew right past her without a pause to rest, Vash thought. Meryl was in full teacher mode and anything that might exist outside of that role was ignored. It was an unfortunate habit of hers; if Vash had gone through life so oblivious in that way he'd have been killed long ago.
"You have to move with the tomas," she pursued. "Get a feel for her rhythm."
"How do I do that?" he asked.
"Pretend the sound of her feet is like the clicking of a giant metronome and you're the long ticker swaying out at the top of it. Movement comes from the dan-ti'en."
"You know what that is?" Vash said, momentarily brought up short.
"I took tai-chi in college," Meryl said, sounding a little defensive. "And it's as true in toma-riding as it is in martial arts. Don't sit stiff in the saddle, you have to move along with her. Shift your weight and balance to keep up with her movement.
Vash tried it and found that it took some getting used to but once he had a sense of the rhythm Meryl was talking about, tomas riding wasn't as bad as he thought it was.
"Hey," he noted in real surprise. "I don't feel like I'm perched precariously on a thin rail anymore. It's a lot easier to keep my balance even with her swaying under me when I know what she's going to do."
Meryl rode up beside him and smiled brightly.
"See?" she said. "It's not so bad is it?"
"Hey," he noted, looking over at her. "Why is it that you don't have any reigns?"
"I don't need them really," she replied off-handedly. "I'm a neck-and-knee rider. Urge her into a canter and get a sense of her rhythm for that gait," Meryl instructed next.
The rock on the canter was far more exaggerated than it was at the nice sedate swaying walk and Vash had a hard time compensating at first but with Meryl steady coaching he improved. The course of their instructions had taken them well past the bounds of the lands held by her family and out into the desert surrounding the sheild. Even with the lessons and his teacher taking up most of his attention, Vash was still aware of a strange background hum subtly vibrating along his senses, he'd always been paticularly attuned to energy patterns and the flow of power through the veins of minerals and the pocket aquifers that dotted this world and he could generally recognize an energy signature by a Sister based on its vibration alone; Vash didn't know exactly what he was picking up on, but it didn't feel the same as the fields emitted by one of the Sisters.
"You're a fast learner," she said as they stopped to water the tomas at a small watering hole shadowed by a great pile of natural rocky boulders jutting up out of the sands. They'd left the bounds of her family's property an hour or so back with Meryl patiently coaching him from behind the whole way. Vash, long accustomed to spending time in solitude out in the Great Wastes, didn't think anything of leaving the nearest civilization behind him and going off on his own (or near it).
"I had a good teacher," he replied easily. Truth to tell he had been greatly surprised by how good she was. Patience was not a virtue he often (read ever) associated with Meryl; stubbornness and loyalty yes, patience... not so much.
They sat down in the shade of the boulders that protected the natural spring nearby and watched the winds blow over the sand in silence for a while. It was peaceful, nothing more than the two of them, no bounty hunters trying to kill him, no Gung-Ho Guns to worry about. Just him and his insurance girl, the two tomases grazing nearby on the scrubby grasses that bordered the spring nearby.
"Vash," Meryl said seriously turning a little to look at him out of the corner of her eye. "I feel I should tell you something that's been weighing on my mind recently."
She is going to confess!! he thought in surprised delight. He tried to pull a suitable serious look on his face when what he really felt like doing was picking her up and whooping with delight as he twirled her around in the air. Meryl took in a deep breath, steeling herself and then said
"It's about my family,"
Oh, he thought, nearly slumping over in disappointment. Then he perked up a little.
Maybe she's just working her way around to it, He thought hopefully.
"You've probably noted by now the irregularity of this establishment," she said, gesturing off into the distance of their backtrail to the green line spreading across the horizon and the strange dome-sheild over it.
"Your ancestors must have put a lot of effort into cultivating the land to get such arable fields," he said agreeably.
"Well... yes and no..." she said.
That's odd, he noted with a creeping feeling of concern. She looks sort of guilty.
"The containment sphere really does most of the work, it creates conditions favorable for crops by making miniature biome within its skin; regulating temperature, blocking out harmful spectrum rays and creating a greenhouse effect ensuring humidity and regular rainfall," she said clinically. "Creating the kind of particle field that regulates temperature by increasing and decreasing the vibration of its particles is not easy or cheap in terms of energy requirements, as I'm sure you can imagine."
She's started wringing her hands together, Vash noted. Meryl never wrings her hands. Yet there it was, her hands and fingers were withing rings about one another. She was nervous about something.
"What I'm about to tell you has, so far as I know, never been told to anyone outside of the Family in all of the generations we've owned this land," she said seriously. She suddenly turned to him, face and body radiating genuine distress.
"But I have to tell someone and you're the only one I could think of who might know something to do!"
"I'm flattered, you'd turn to me for help," he said cautiously. "I'll do what I can."
"I hope it won't be needed, but I'm glad you're my support," Meryl said. "Well... on with it then. The particle field generator doesn't draw energy from Plants. My great-great-great grandfather was too greedy and miserly to pay the fees the nearest city demanded to run a line way out here and he didn't want to pay taxes on the energy required to run the field..."
"I don't see any solar panels or a wind farm nearby," Vash noted cautiously. "So... something else?"
"Something else indeed," she said ominously. "In your time on the ship your teachers Rem and the Captain no doubt told you how Earth wound up in such dire straits."
"Pollution and negligence... and wars," he said promptly.
"Nuclear and biochemical warfare as well," Meryl added, nodding firmly. "But it's the nuclear part I'm concerned with. According to the history books, after the last great war on earth, in which over a third of the earths population was killed outright and half of the rest crippled or sickened irreparably all of mankind got together and signed a declaration banning the research, employment and construction of any nuclear device no matter what it's intended use was."
"Which was sort of a pity in a way because they'd finally perfected the design for a nuclear fusion reactor for generating energy," Vash noted. "So?"
"So... nuclear power was banned from use. For all time. Regardless of circumstances. Period." she said.
"Yes, and that's what made the discovery and use of plants as a power source so necessary," Vash said in puzzlement. "What's the point?"
"Well, nuclear power is a forbidden technology. Even knowledge of how it works is strictly proscribed," she said urgently. Vash considered her for a moment then looked over at Trevino Vineyards with its iles and iles of green fertile land protected by an enormous energy-consuming particle field and...
Click.
"You're joking, right?" he said.
"I wish I were," Meryl replied.
"Where's the generator?" he asked urgently.
"We're sitting on it," she said. "I wasn't supposed to even know about it, but I've always been a little too curious and never really learned from the lesson about what it did to the cat. Once, when I was a girl, I went exploring out here to these rocks after I'd given my governess the slip and snuck off on Temper, that was my tomas when I was a girl, and found the cover to the porthole by accident. I went down it just as Alice did down the rabbit hole and guess what I found on the other side?"
"How did you know what you were looking at?" Vash asked curiously.
"It's run by an artificial intelligence, a voice addressing system no less, and It told me what It was," she replied. "I could never talk to my father, so I asked my grandfather about it later that night and he said that I must keep my knowledge a secret."
"Why?" Vash asked, feeling more than a little suspicious. He'd genuinely liked the old man; but then, Leon Schezar had seemed like a nice fellow too, at first. Perhaps her grandfather, like Leon Schezar, was only interested in making a profit from a natural resource.
"For the greater good," Meryl replied. "Right now these fields export nearly half of the crops that feed all of Gunsmoke, the vineyards only make a small percentage of the whole of the arable lands. Arrable lands, as I'm sure you've noticed, are at a premium on this world; it's not easy to farm in a desert. In addition this place sends out free care packages to sectors afflicted with greater drought than usual or other natural disasters in which a starving population needs relief. If the technology that drove the success of these lands were revealed and the ban on forbidden technology enacted that source of food would dry up. More people would starve when the population is already barely making it by as it was."
"Okay," he said nodding slowly. "I can see the justification. And... your family seems like it's being cautious with what its doing with the generator... I don't see the harm in letting it stand."
"When I went to college later on I discovered about radiation poisoning in my studies of history and of science," Meryl continued a little hurriedly, as if in a rush to get it all out at once.
"Since I knew about the reactor underneath the Vineyards I felt it was my duty to face my father and question him about what safety precautions he had in place to make certain that none of the radiation was leaked out. When he first found out about my knowledge he was very angry but assured me, assured me faithfully, that our family, who were the custodians of this power, would never misuse it and would treat it with utmost respect. They were the guardians, he said, who stood between the rest of humanity and possible harm. There were many many layers of shields protecting the world from any leakage, many security protocols placed within the system to prevent tampering with the reactor. He promised me that my family would always honorably and vigilantly guard the reactor."
"You think they've somehow failed in that?" Vash hazarded, not liking at all the distressed tone in her voice.
"Not yet perhaps, but I believe they soon may," Meryl said seriously. "This is the first time in all of the generations that Trevino Vineyards has not had a direct male decedent ready to take over the business. My sister and I are deemed "unsuitable" because of our gender, to inherit the vineyards and for the first time father has been forced to look outside the enclosure for an heir. He's settled on Mori-Korin, not just for his wizardry in the field of business but also, I suspect, for the considerable amount of further wealth and assets he will bring to the Vineyards."
"He's going to put that guy in charge of a large scary thing that goes boom if you poke it wrong?" Vash said incredulously. "How does he know he'll take care of it?!"
"Mori-Korin is ruthless," Meryl said with the decisiveness of mathematical law. "Without a sense of mercy. That's often good in business where too soft a heart can sink you, but..."
"But if he has no sense of compassion and only sees bottom lines, you're worried that he'll do just what was done back on earth and screw the future over for short-term benefits," Vash finished her thought for her.
"Exactly," Meryl said. "I suspect he's already begun to do so. The citizens of the nearest town have begun to exhibit signs of the early stages of radiation poisoning. It's still treatable now but that tells me that the shields on the reactor have either weakened, been tampered with or... the reactor itself had been forced to increase its output of energy."
"Or perhaps all three," she added as an after thought.
"You're so full of good news," he said in a poor attempt at humor.
"Well, actually, I do have some good news," she said raising a finger. "I mentioned that my father and I had met for lunch at Chez Peirre yesterday right?"
Vash nodded.
"I informed him of the troubles in Sandiville and how I thought there might be radiation leaking from the reactor and politely requested that he investigate and solve the problem. He told me he'd take care of it."
"Did he use those exact words Meryl?" Vash asked, spying something way off in the distance from the corner of his eye.
"Yes, why?" she asked in puzzlement.
Vash suddenly leapt on her and tackled her to the ground at a bullet pinged right over their heads.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" she demanded, cracking him super-hard against his skull as soon as she could move. Obviously she hadn't heard the bullet. The second one, thankfully, got her attention.
"Oh great," she muttered. "Bounty-hunters."
"Just another fun-filled day," he said as their uninvited guests opened up a hail of bullets on the place where the two of them were resting. The tomases took off on their own, getting out of the line of fire and Vash slung Meryl over one shoulder and sprinted for the safety of the other side of the rocks. For once she didn't argue with him.
It didn't take more than that first glance for Vash to get a head-count and an estimate about their weapons. Thirty-plus years of being hunted down for the bounty on his head had made him practiced indeed at gaging an enemies strengths and weaknesses in a very short amount of time. There were seven of them all piled into a jeep; three with automatics, two regular gunslingers, some guy with what looked like two mortar-shell launchers grafted onto his back and another guy manning some tank-like pivoting automatic machine-gun tower welded onto the top of the jeep.
Puffing out a sigh, Vash checked his new colt. He'd replaced his trusty lngcold with a new gun because, even though he was a pacifist, the world was still a dangerous place to live and there was still a bounty on his head. The new gun didn't have the same weight and feel, but Frank Marlon had made it for him for gratis out of a sense of camradery towards Vash and said he'd been happy to make it for him knowing it'd be used for only good. He filled the clip with bullets while Meryl eyed her own derringers... and his day had been going so well too.
I mean, even if I didn't get a confession from her, we were at least spending time alone together, he grumbled to himself. That didn't happen often really, less so since his brother had joined their little traveling circus. Not that he didn't like having Millie around, or even Knives, (on occasion) but he didn't get much alone time with a woman he'd begun to notice he was thinking of in a proprietary sort of way more and more lately.
"This is just what we need," she mumbled. "Vash, please take out the explosive weapons first. I don't want them damaging the shields."
Good point, if whatever it was that was beneath them went off, they and every one else for iles around was beyond screwed.
In a motion so practiced that he didn't really even think about it anymore Vash sighted, aimed, and squeezed off four rounds. Two hit on-target for the mortar-launcher guy, fritzing out the crude electronics of the launchers. The other two went down into the barrel of the tank-gun tower. The ensuing explosion rocked the little jeep onto its side and all of the rest of the posse of bounty-hunters ducked and rolled out of the blast range with cries of dismay.
With an easy click, Vash reloaded his piece with new bullets.
Vash took advantage of the confusion to leap out from his cover and use the round he'd just loaded to disarm the two gunslingers and the men weilding automatic rifles.
These guys are riff-raff, Vash thought with a dismissive sniff as he finished off any chances they might have had for re-arming themselves with his final bullet; he fired off a shot that's flying trajectory ricocheted the extra carton of mortar-shells that the back-pack man had been carrying into the midst of the pile of weapons that Vash had created when he'd disarmed the men and then promptly shot the explosives which did their job and exploded. No more guns.
Vash allowed himself a moment to smugly revel in his victory. He knew he was good, all of that harsh practice had made him so, but this had been really easy. Surreptitiously, he glanced over to see if his short girl had witnessed his prowess and was impressed. He'd always rather liked that he could impress her. He barely resisted the urge to preen and strut like any young man showing off for a girl, and moved to scan three-ixty to see if he'd missed anything.
He turned just in time to see an eighth and uncounted bounty hunter with one arm around Meryl's mouth to keep her from crying out and a gun at her head. True to form, instead of freezing in fear at the sound of a pistol cocking near her ear, Meryl only glared at her captor and continued her struggles.
No bullets. Vash knew his clip was empty because he'd developed the habit of counting off his shots; even in the midst of a heated battle he knew exactly how many bullets he had. Still, that guy probably did not have the same habit, and he'd heard Wolfwood remark that when Vash was shooting fast all of his shots sounded like a single shot together. Vash could probably bluff his way out of this.
"Let her go," he commanded, pointing his pistol at him.
"Stay out of it boy," the unshaven bounty hunter grunted, still trying to get an handle on the wriggling, squirming short girl. "This isn't yer fight. An' hold still damn ya!"
The look on her face promised unpleasant retribution to the man should she manage to win free. That was his Meryl alright. It didn't look to him like the threat of a gun fazed her much, after all she'd seen and been confronted with just as bad or worse over the course of their travels together, she was probably thinking something along the lines of "it's going to take a lot more than a piddling little hand gun and a death threat to hold me you scrawny..." Unfortunately Vash knew well that whether or not the wielder was as intimidating as a Gung-ho Gun or a puny as a half-starved bandit, a shot to the head would kill her just as dead as anything delivered by an executioner more powerful.
"Meryl, please hold still," he called over to her. The man looked like he was just going to start shooting in another heartbeat if she kept up her struggles. Meryl froze instinctively, trusting him though she did send an inquiring glance his way.
"Thanks boy, ya jus' made my job easier," the man said as he got a firmer grip on Meryl and cocked the hammer of his pistol back.
Vash had half a heartbeat to realize the magnitude of his mistake.
They weren't after him, they were after her. It was Meryl that they wanted to kill.
"Wait!" he cried desperately. Anything just to buy time so that man wouldn't pull the trigger. The man didn't even flicker a glance at him as his finger tightened around the tiny piece of metal that decided life or death.
His world seemed to end with the sound of a gunshot.
So tell me and be honest, how many of you want to kill me for that cliffhanger? Heh heh heh.