Disclaimer in previous chapters. I guess I spill some of the beans in this chapter. Please see the author's notes at the bottom.
- . -
It'd been a long time since she'd thought much about Wolfwood.
Her memories of him were of course tainted by the fate he chose for himself. Most of them had to do with cleaning a church and yellow pajamas and a cross that almost dwarfed the man who carried it. Full of mercy . . . for whom? Not for him. Not even for his orphans. Maybe full of mercy for his victims.
Every other clear memory she had of him contained a crumpled cigarette or an easy, insincere smile.
She wouldn't have chosen him for Millie, if she'd had a choice. He'd been the same flavor of perceptive, but unlike her, he lost his innocence a very long time ago, probably in a manner she didn't need to contemplate. His awareness came from the fact that his life was constantly in danger. The few times he'd genuinely smiled, really grinned anything besides that too-easy smile of his, had been either at Vash when he was being an idiot, or at Millie.
She wished she could remember him better. She wished she'd paid more attention to him when he was around. She didn't even have any photographs of him, didn't know anyone that could do a reasonable portrait. Something to give Millie. Something to help her remember with, now that the cross was gone.
She supposed it was only natural that she'd moved on so quickly after his death. After all, she'd been following Vash, and burying herself in work was her way of dealing with almost everything. It hadn't helped that Millie had the same approach. And there'd been a lot going on. The fight with Legato, then Knives, then this. Pretty much every Plant contract Bernardelli had needed to be renegotiated, and for some reason the Chief seemed to think they were the team for the job.
Vash the Stampede was to blame for all of it.
Ignoring the fact that he'd been the reason they were on that bus in the desolate sand between Mei and Inepral City, he'd been the one to spot a shining buckle. Knowing what they did now, it was pretty obvious at that time Nicholas D. Wolfwood hadn't known anything about his assignment. Their meeting had been purely coincidental.
It hadn't been coincidental that he'd turned up in time for the dueling match. Nor after he'd gotten his orders and returned to Eriks, dragged him out of hiding and back onto the path to his brother Knives.
Which also led, quite directly, to the fact that her ass was aching with every bump Sunjy hit, and the wind the vehicle created as it crept its way across desert was in no way a relief from the heat.
So she could blame both of them. Damn men.
Meryl Stryfe pushed an ebony lock of hair out of her face, glaring up at it when the wind brushed it right back moments later. She was in the backseat behind Sunjy, which in a way wasn't fair, because he was quite short so she had a lot of leg room. Elizabeth, on the other hand, was bent in a way that reminded her of a folding chair.
The engineer didn't seem to mind, however; her head lay in the crevice between the headrest and the open windowframe, and judging by the slow, measured rise and fall of her for-once covered chest, she was sound asleep.
In front of her, Aaron Carter was scanning the horizon. He was also jammed as close to the dash as he could possibly be, in order to give 'Miss Elizabeth' as much room as possible, but in the end it just made for two very uncomfortable tall people.
Not for the first time, Meryl was glad of her stature. Tall enough not to be overlooked or stepped on, short enough to be comfortable in situations like this one.
This situation, in general terms, wasn't even that unusual. Many times she and Millie had begged, borrowed, or bought transportation as fast as could be begged, borrowed, or bought in an effort to finally catch up with the mysterious gunman in the red coat.
The only differences were the fact that she had found herself partnered with Elizabeth instead of Millie, and she was chasing a letter instead of a man. But that letter was eventually supposed to go to a man, who would then send it to another one. And that other one was Vash the Stampede. So in a very round-about way-
Meryl growled to herself and threw her head back on the headrest.
There was nothing usual about this. This was as unusual as it got.
She was in a car with three virtual strangers trying to stop the end of humanity on Gunsmoke.
She didn't have her partner. She didn't have Vash. The two constants in her life in the past several years, the only two resources she couldn't use on this endeavor. She found herself wondering idly if the hotel manager was still saving their room, 104, and growled again.
Of all the unimportant things to be worrying about at a time like this!
She would give anything to just close her eyes and sleep, like Elizabeth was apparently having no trouble doing. Even though she knew when they arrived they'd have to correctly identify Knives' human slave, intercept the letter, find the saboteurs, apprehend them, successfully question them in the hopes they knew enough to give them Vash's and Millie's location, and then proceed there, fighting whatever militia in the process.
She had her derringers. Aaron was obviously used to this sort of thing, and he had the armorment for his very own militia in the trunk. Sunjy was apparently also not unfamiliar with weapons, but his forte seemed to be blending in and espionage. He'd been Elizabeth's best bodyguard due to his ability to not be noticed and to notice people in the beginning motions of attacking his charge.
Elizabeth, on the other hand, was sacked out against the window in a stylish sand-colored blouse and matching trousers that Meryl herself wasn't sure weren't just painted on. There wasn't a weapon visible on her, though maybe that was the point. She didn't really need any. So long as their saboteurs were male, she had all the weapons she needed stuffed into that . . . blouse . . .
Meryl unclenched her teeth with effort and stared out her own window. How that woman could sleep . . .
What made her so special that Knives would allow her to actually interact with Vash? What were their conversations like? She didn't seem that appalled by the changes in him, but she didn't really know him, know him as anything more than a ghost from her past that had embraced her after her parents succumbed to the elements, took care of her until she was put into the hands of relatives.
Meryl felt a smile twitch on her lips. It was easy to imagine Vash with little Elizabeth. She'd seen him so often playing with the kids –
But he probably didn't do that anymore. Might not even miss it.
Only sand met her gaze, mounds and mounds of it. Since they were taking the most direct course, they'd veered away from Inepral City slightly before reaching the city limits, and after restocking both water and fuel had immediately set out where there was no road. The most traveled path between Inepral City and Mei was said to be the shortest, but Doc's map proved that was quite incorrect. They were going to make up at least fifty iles on this trip, and that should be enough time.
Assuming the truck didn't break down or they didn't find themselves driving into a sandstorm.
She almost smiled. Doc and sandstorms seemed to go together in her head. As a Bernardelli insurance agent she'd been the one to negotiate that contract, as well. She personally had probably set up about one eighth of the contracts they had now, not that she'd bothered to go back to the main office and check into her standing. She kept getting paychecks, and that was all that mattered.
It wasn't that difficult to recall, it had been just a little over a year ago. A sandstorm had been bearing down on them, so she'd gladly accepted their offer of shelter and spent the next two days in the company of confused, aloof but very curious people. Doc himself had struck her as much younger than his years, almost a little mischievous. It had been easy to see what had drawn him to Vash, and Vash to him.
He'd told her the last time he'd seen Vash had been in a sandstorm. When Nicholas and Vash had led yet saved them from two of Knives' Gung-Ho Guns, unfortunately resulting in a crash to the planet's surface. The completion of the Great Fall. Doubtlessly Knives would have targeted their still-floating SEEDs ship eventually, but there was no doubt Vash had changed their lives as surely as he'd changed hers.
Even Wolfwood's. It just seemed like he was the only one she'd ever seen that had seemed to cause an equal change in Vash's.
These thoughts were the very reason she couldn't get to freakin' sleep.
Her tired eyes kept watching the sand, waiting for a twinkle. It would be a shiny buckle that showed her the way.
Wolfwood, she thought silently, if you're out there, you better be watching out for Millie. You owe her.
Millie missed him so much. And here she'd been a complete bitch and all wrapped up in 'the job' and her jealousy that she hadn't been there. Hadn't just given up the goose and dragged the taller girl to a bar to drink his drinks and bawl her eyes out. And that was what she needed. All those nights listening to the muffled sounds of sobs, when what Millie really needed, more than anything, was a cup of pudding and to be allowed to scream her pain out to the sky.
Millie, unlike most people, had the ability to heal. To truly forgive.
It reminded her very much of Vash. Two peas in a pod. Childlike people, scoffed at for their simplicity, that just might have the right outlook on life.
And where had it gotten them, a sharper part of her mind asked.
Kidnapped. Possibly killed.
Sometimes she thought maybe, just maybe, Knives had a point.
She blinked gritty eyes and kept staring out the window.
"Stop the car!"
She froze as the vehicle was sucked to a stop by the desert, almost positive she hadn't meant to say anything of the kind. It hadn't even sounded like her voice –
Meryl picked up her head in surprise as the door to her right opened, and she watched Elizabeth painfully uncurl herself and fall out of the vehicle. Aaron was already outside, still scanning the horizon, and Sunjy left the motor idling. Curiously, she also unfastened her seatbelt and opened her door.
"What did you see, Miss Elizabeth?"
Meryl could have sworn that woman was asleep –
"There."
She was pointing at – Meryl squinted.
At nothing. Sand and dust and hot. She was pointing vaguely east, and the heat shimmered off the light sands as far as the eye could see.
But Aaron's face darkened considerably, and he crossed in front of Elizabeth, heading towards the trunk.
Maybe she was too short?
Meryl padded behind the car, behind Aaron, and approached Elizabeth. She didn't seem perturbed, at least not nearly as much as Aaron. In fact, she looked relatively pleased.
"An exhaust trail," she explained, gesturing. Again, all Meryl saw was heat shimmering into the horizon. "It means there's a ship buried here. At least," she amended, "that's probably what it means. More wreckage, and this wreckage? Still working."
The words slammed into her brain like the cross-shaped bullets from Millie's stun-gun, that had ripped through the floor to rescue Wolfwood and Vash. Meryl resisted the urge to slap herself in the forehead.
"There is a ship here," she agreed. "It was manufacturing these . . . spider-like bodyguard robots. Vash found it the last time we drove this way."
Elizabeth stared at her.
Meryl sniffed defensively and held her chin high. "Don't look at me like that! There wasn't anyone in it, and Vash shut down the assembly line when we left."
The engineer looked critically at the sparkling horizon. "Someone turned it back on," she said simply. "Aaron?"
"Do we have time for this, Miss Elizabeth?"
That was a very good question. Despite her curiosity, they had more pressing concerns than a ship that might or might not still be making killer robots. There were far more dangerous things in the world, and one of them was about to be supremely unhappy with them.
"We figured on at least three hours. One can be spent here. If this wreckage still has power, it might have a Plant."
Meryl trapped the tip of her tongue between her teeth and kept her protest to herself, glancing back at the rover as Sunjy killed the engine. If it did have a Plant, why would Vash not have mentioned it in his list? Or was it on another 'list,' that he kept with Knives? What if he was here extracting this Plant, and that was why he was missing?
What if every time he went missing it would be to wander the desert, finding lost ships and freeing their Plants?
And his disappearance was in no way related to the sabotage? What if she was spending all this time simply moving further and further away from Millie?
"You do not agree," a voice growled at her left, and Meryl turned to look at Sunjy. The man was so darkly complected and tan that he might as well have been made of thomas-hide. He stood about her height, and walked nigh silently on the crunching sand. His dark brown eyes matched his skin, and his ebony hair was as wiry as his slight frame.
Hardly the stature of a bodyguard. He looked like he belonged in a seedy bar, busing tables.
She shook her head with a laugh that sounded false, even to her, and waved her hands dismissively. "No, it's fine! I've been on this ship before, and since Vash and Mr. Wolfwood took down the killer robots I'm sure it will be fine! What could possibly go wrong?"
His eyes never moved or blinked. "You're strange," he said finally.
Meryl had no reply for that, and he continued past her, following Elizabeth. After glaring at his impassive back a moment, she followed.
Aaron had chosen a rather large weapon from their vehicle, something that looked as though it were capable of firing multiple types of projectiles. Which was good, since if someone had turned the assembly line back on there would be all kinds of targets. They'd just seen them from the bus, and the wreckage of them as the passengers had staggered through the remnants of an entire army of them. Vash and Wolfwood had done a pretty good job of destroying about a hundred of the things, and most had borne damage to their . . . lights. Eyes. Sensors?
She'd aim there. Aaron probably already knew about it, if they'd really explored and salvaged so many of these things.
Elizabeth was in the lead, and Meryl couldn't help but watch her as she topped a dune and scanned the area. The engineer knew how to walk up a dune without wasting motion. Obviously she'd done this before. Of course, she was still stupidly wearing high-heeled boots to match the trousers and silk.
How many times had she approached wreckage in the desert? Was this her idea of a good time?
Meryl trudged up the sand behind her, the last to get to the top but the only one to recognize the oddly rounded humps for what they were.
"They're all deactivated," she said confidently, noting Aaron had hefted his cannon off his shoulder and was now holding it in a better position to be used. "A little girl on the bus we were on got herded here by them, so –" Vash and Wolfwood had taken care of it. Long before they ever turned the bus around to come back.
But Elizabeth just nodded, as if she'd heard the rest of the explanation. "Vash," she just said simply, and turned slightly to her right, letting herself skitter back down the sand at an angle. The rest of them followed suit.
Meryl also grabbed a pair of derringers – just in case Vash and Wolfwood hadn't done as bang-up of a job as she remembered.
They approached the first hump, mostly covered in sand and odd only because of its roundness. A quick check found it was exactly like she remembered. Metal, with flexible hose-like legs and a damaged front sensor array. Aaron prodded the mechanism with the barrel of his gun-rifle-thing, but not so much as a high-frequency buzz responded. Elizabeth squinted down at it a moment before murmuring something appreciatively.
"You saw this thing moving?"
"I saw this thing trying to kill people," she responded a bit more curtly than she intended. She didn't remember them fondly.
A particularly brisk gust of wind blew across their little sand-dune valley, and another glint of metal became visible. Another empty shell.
They were carcasses in their own way, she thought. They'd eventually be worn down and fade away into the sand just like everything else.
"You said something about an exhaust trail?" she heard herself say, a little nervously. Aaron glanced her way, and she was glad to see a little tension in his frame as well. So she wasn't the only one a little creeped out by dead spider robots.
The engineer looked as though she'd like nothing better than a set of tools so she could dismantle one. But after another appreciative look, she took in the horizon again, looking apparently for a heat shimmer that looked a bit different from all the other ones.
"This way."
They picked their way through the robot corpses with care, Aaron taking point this time in case any of them should reactivate. But Nicholas and Vash had really done a number on them – they went further and further in and yet not one of those mounds moved.
Meryl didn't put away her derringers. Aaron didn't lower his weapon. Sunjy kept an eye on everything, and Elizabeth heedlessly continued on towards her exhaust spout like a kid on Christmas morning.
When they were almost on top of it Meryl could admit that now she could see a difference. Plants didn't produce pollution, it wasn't like the exhaust that came out of a truck. It was just a slightly different shimmering than the heat around it. Apparently hotter. The hot air was pouring out of a small hole in the ground, and Elizabeth confidently kicked some sand over it.
The sand shot some fifteen feet above them, showering back down on them and the dead robots. Meryl shook her head irritatedly and glared at the engineer, who was hmming thoughtfully.
"Too deep to dig to," she finally said. "At least ten feet." She gave Meryl an appraising look, and the shorter girl almost blushed when she realized she'd been shaking her head clean of sand as though she had fleas. She stopped with a stormy look.
"What?"
"How'd you get into this ship before?"
A sinkhole was probably not the best answer, she considered. Unfortunately, it was honest.
"We, ah, got caught up in a sinkhole and were pulled into a damaged part of the hull," she admitted. "I think Vash and Wolfwood got in the same way."
"Wolfwood?"
"A traveling priest," she said hurriedly. "Look, I think I can find that sinkhole again based on where these robots are but even if we do, getting out is a pain and it's going to take a long time." And she was really starting to get a bad feeling about the entire thing.
"I concur," Aaron rumbled apologetically. "We might need to save this for another day."
Not that they'd necessarily have many more of them.
Meryl glanced back the way they'd come, slightly relieved to catch a glimpse of the roof of their rover. None of the sandy lumps had moved, and everything would be fine if they'd just get back in and continue on their way –
Something glinted off to her right, and she looked before she could stop herself.
"Oh, no." It was almost a whine. Why'd it have to be here? Why couldn't he have shown her a nice store porch with some nice shade to wait for the saboteurs? She felt her shoulders slump but she obediently headed towards the spot that she'd seen the flash of light.
"Wel- Meryl?"
She waved a hand over her shoulder and kept going. There was no way she was going to explain this, certainly not after she'd just finished arguing they needed to leave –
As she got closer, she realized what she was looking at was a stray piece of metal. About four inches of it were exposed, and it was badly dulled from sand and dust. It was slightly curved, sort of like a bent, fluted pipe.
Knowing she was going to regret it, and cursing that traveling priest under her breath, Meryl bent down and put her hand around the piece of metal.
It was hot, but not unbearably so, and it was connected to something. She tugged lightly, but nothing happened.
An enormous shadow suddenly loomed over her, and she bit back a squeak as an odd shape protruded from it –
"What did you find?"
She swallowed her heart back into her chest and glared over her shoulder. "Oh, probably just some old piece of robot –"
Beside her, Elizabeth began to literally jumped up and down. Meryl noted she probably shouldn't do that often if she wanted to keep that bra in good shape –
Her face lit up. "Hull," she confirmed. Then she leaned in over Meryl, put her hand over the protesting insurance girl's, and yanked with all her might.
Meryl hissed as her fingers were crushed under the metal handle, and it creaked slowly as it gave. It bent upwards about forty-five degrees before an odd, deep clank! was heard, and then suddenly it was too heavy to hold. Startled, both women let it drop open, and a dim, oblong entrance gaped at them.
"I think this will save us some time," the engineer observed.
Meryl looked up at Aaron beseechingly. The look he gave her was very much like the look he'd been wearing when she'd marched up to the plant with her suitcase in tow. He was just doing his job, and he was resigned to it.
He motioned, and she hurriedly scooted aside as he knelt down and inspected what he could see of the inside. It was dim, just as it had been before, and the air smelled a little different than the stuff blowing around them. Not musty, especially. Almost cleaner.
"Environmental systems are still running," he confirmed, and kicked some sand into the opening. Then, he put a foot on the edge of the bottom of the opening, took a breath, and tipped over. The result was a face-first fall towards the hole.
"Aaron!" she gasped, making a grab for his arm before he killed himself, but he fell too fast. Seconds passed, yet somehow he was still in the doorway. His fall had been arrested by some invisible something. He appeared to be standing, parallel with the ground, on the metal grid inside the ship.
He glanced back at her, looking for all the world as though he were lying face-first on a piece of clear glass. "You might want to sit on the edge instead," he said quietly to her. "Gravity'll catch you instantly, and it'll be a little weird."
Then he – walked. Straight down into the hole, perpendicular with the ground.
She watched, stunned, as Sunjy did exactly the same thing. He pitched face-first towards that hole, and yet somehow ended up standing. Gravity inside the ship, her brain volunteered. Since their feet were on the floor of the ship, as far as they were concerned they were standing. The attitude of the ship to the ground didn't matter once you were inside.
Elizabeth smiled a little condescendingly. "I guess you didn't notice since you went in via sinkhole. You probably lost all sense of the planet's gravity before you entered the hull."
Then she too fell into the doorway.
Meryl squared her shoulders. There was no way she was going to crawl into that ship if the rest of them could so effortlessly do this. All she had to do was keep her knees locked and trust that the ship would catch her.
Right. Trust that she wasn't about to fall face-first down a corridor probably as deep as the ship was wide.
She stood at the edge of the hole, looking down at their retreating backs, and tucked her derringers back into her cloak. Either they didn't care if she followed them, or they were giving her the privacy to look like an idiot. This would be so easy for Vash, her brain quipped, and she swatted at it in irritation.
Just – fall. Face-first. How hard could falling be?
The hole was deep. If she fell, she'd be falling a long way to where she could just make out a twist in the corridor. She'd bellyflop right onto that door, about twenty yarz down, and she'd die a painful death. Now that she could see them walking, her brain could almost wrap around how this worked. She was lying flat on her back, she told herself.
All she had to do was pretend she was flat on her back, and wanted to fall up onto her feet.
Meryl took a deep breath, squared her shoulders again, and tipped.
At the last second, her body overrode her, bending her knees and trying to twist her to her side. It knew it was falling, and it wanted her to land on her shoulder instead of her forehead. Meryl flinched as the doorway approached –
And then stumbled.
She flailed wildly, catching the left wall, and managed to keep her feet by sheer luck. She was standing, a little sideways and crouched at a very odd angle, and she pushed herself upright as quickly as she could, turning beet red.
It was her first time, dammit! At least she hadn't landed on her butt altogether.
Sunjy glanced back at the commotion, met her eyes, and gave her an encouraging smile. She made a face.
The corridor wasn't as dim now that she was inside it. Though she clearly remembered Vash powering down the ship on their last visit, apparently some secondary systems, such as emergency lighting, were still operational. No matter how many wrecks she visited and insured, they never became less fascinating. The walls were made of a cool metal, brushed so they didn't reflect too much light in a glare but still enough to create an ambient effect.
The air was cooler, and became significantly so as she continued into the ship. She seemed to remember this corridor, it was a maintenance hall and if she wasn't mistaken, the assembly chamber was below. They'd probably find the hole Millie had punched through the floor with her stun-gun, and from there she knew where to get to a computer console.
Not that she was sure Elizabeth really knew how to use them as well as Vash, but since she could modify Plant machinery, there was no reason to think she couldn't at least determine if there was a Plant on board at all.
And now they didn't have to swim out sand to get out. A half-hour, tops, and they could be on their way again to their far less scary but ultimately far more important mission.
There were few doors and fewer branches in the corridor, save the hard right it took about twenty yarz down. Aaron was in the lead again, his large weapon at the ready, and Elizabeth was just behind him. They turned the corner without being shot down by evil robots, and Meryl followed Sunjy, glancing back at that square of sunlight almost longingly.
She'd wanted to be in the shade, she rationalized. Just not this shade.
What were they going to find in this ship that was going to help Vash and Millie? She couldn't think of anything offhand that she would wish for, besides maybe a magical hat that would make the saboteurs immediately surrender Vash and Millie unharmed and then scatter to the four winds. She supposed if they could reprogram the robots they could use them to fight, but until they had any idea what they were up against –
"Third door on the left," Elizabeth's voice echoed back to her. "That one should take us to the secondary lift system, and from there to the bridge."
"We were lucky the ship crashed in this position," Sunjy's voice responded. "We wouldn't have time to walk it from the aft sections."
Meryl rounded the corner and found herself momentarily stunned.
The emergency lighting resulted in a single, paneled light every ten yarz or so. On a glance, she could count probably a hundred of them, just on the right side of the corridor. If this maintenance corridor extended the length of the ship –
It went on forever. An endless expanse of empty, metal corridor as far as the eye could see.
The last time she'd been there, she'd been so caught up in just finding Wolfwood and Vash that she hadn't paid attention to anything but the occasional bits of sand they'd shed as they'd continued through the ship. And the pieces of robot.
The three were several yarz ahead of her, still talking quietly to each other, and they passed the first access hatch. The third one was another fifty or so yarz up, and it apparently cut across the width of the ship. She hoped it wasn't as long as this one –
Her brain stopped momentarily, and she looked past them again at the huge, lonely corridor. If this was the corridor she'd been in before, where were the destroyed robots?
She quickened her steps until she caught up with the main group, hesitating before asking. "Uh, Elizabeth? How many of these corridors would there be?"
She glanced over her shoulder, possibly reacting to the tone. "Eight," she responded after a moment. "North, northeast, east, southeast . . . you get the picture."
Meryl nodded. So they could climb up and down the ladders that lined the walls every fifty or so yarz to get to things in the hull that needed repairing. "What's the distance between them? From outside the hull?" She'd lost track of where they were in relation to the planet, but surely if this corridor and another were close enough to the surface to be accessed, it wasn't that far. The ship couldn't really be that big.
"A lot," she responded. "I couldn't tell you exactly without looking at a schematic, but the circumference of a SEEDs ship at its widest point is probably over two iles . . . so a quarter ile?"
If a quarter ile of the width of the ship were accessible from the surface, her mind pointed out cheerfully, the rounded side of the hull would be visible from the surface.
They'd entered the very front of the ship. Maybe there just wasn't enough light to see by –
Meryl squinted, but those far-off lights didn't glint off anything besides metal grilling and occasional access hatches.
Maybe they'd fallen into one of the other corridors. She really hadn't been paying attention, after all, there was no reason to panic since this ship was huge and they could have sunk into it anywhere –
No. If the ship was that big, and not visible from the surface, there were very few places she could have entered. This was the only one.
Meryl stopped walking. "We need to turn back. Now."
Elizabeth had stopped at nearly the same instant, and she was now staring at the ceiling as though entreating help from God. Meryl didn't care. There was something not right. The engineer could bitch to her heart's content, but they had bigger problems at the moment and indulging her little-
"You're right," the elegant woman agreed quietly. "Let's go."
Meryl followed her gaze, afraid she was going to see the red glint of a spider robot on the sloped walls. Instead, she saw a shadowed mess interrupting the smooth interior wall, like someone had put tin foil around a portion of it –
Like they'd had to cover something.
Like maybe a hole in the hull.
Did the robots also manage ship maintenance?
Meryl turned smartly and almost ran smack into the open access hatch door. She managed to stop her forward momentum about two inches from the metal. She froze a moment, knowing she had neither opened it nor heard it open, but nothing horrible happened. No robotic voice asked her to identify herself. Behind her, she heard Aaron ready his weapon.
But nothing happened.
Tentatively, she took a step back. The door was opened so that it blocked most of the hallway, exactly perpendicular with the wall. She reached out a hand and brushed her fingertips across the metal.
Nothing happened.
Meryl gave it a little shove.
The door glided back about a foot, silently.
They moved silently.
"Put down your weapons."
Meryl closed her eyes.
The voice had come from behind them.
She waited until she heard the rest of the party's shuffling feet before she turned, and she wasn't at all surprised when she heard boots scraping on the grating behind her. Someone had been in the doorway after all. She held her hands out at her sides, hoping whoever it was could see there was nothing in them.
"We don't mean any harm –" she started, but a sharp poke in her side silenced her. She turned and leveled the most acidic glare she could manage at her captor.
She was looking at a human, which had been apparent from the voice, dressed in a dark grey uniform and holding the weirdest-looking rifle she'd ever seen. It was sleek and black, the barrel quite narrow before it lengthened into a rubberized stock. On top of the barrel perched what looked like another barrel, emitting a red light.
It was still dim, so it was hard to make out his expression, but the red light on the rifle made it easy to determine his gesture. When she did nothing, he followed it up with a matter-of-fact "Walk."
They'd done a good job. They'd opened the door behind her when in fact their main body of soldiers seemed to have been waiting behind the second door. When Meryl had told them to stop, they'd been just about to cross in front of it, so when they turned to head back they way they had come, the men had slipped out the second door. They'd been boxed in before they even knew what was happening.
Where had these people come from? She didn't recall seeing or hearing any evidence of anyone the last time they'd been on this ship. Surely Vash would have noticed –
Or maybe he wouldn't. Maybe he was more concerned with getting them all out of there without asking him uncomfortable questions.
"Who are you?" Elizabeth's voice echoed mildly as Meryl was marched closer to the group.
She could see that there were about eight of the armed men, to their group of four. Sunjy had handed the soldier nearest him a small pistol, though she was pretty sure it wasn't his only one. Aaron was apparently being less cooperative, because he was still hanging onto his, with Elizabeth angled behind him. He couldn't completely protect her, but he was doing the best he could.
"It's alright, Aaron," she said in the same calm tone, laying a hand gently on his shoulder. "We're trespassing, after all. Be a good boy and give them your gun."
Meryl was surprised she would use such a condescending tone with him, but after a moment he grunted and shoved the heavy weapon towards the nearest man. The solider took it, stumbling back slightly under its weight, as several of the others raised their weapons a little higher. He regarded the men around him, still not moving out of their line of sight of Elizabeth.
Suddenly he was exactly the same man she'd met last night. Stupid, rude, and indifferent.
"Take them into holding room one," the one behind her ordered, and with another jab she found herself walking into the second access hatch, following Sunjy.
They walked through another dimly lit corridor, but only for a few moments before taking a branch and going down a flight of stairs. The next corridor was considerably brighter, though there was still no evidence of other people. In the better light she could see that all eight of them were wearing the same uniform, all carrying the same type of rifle. Even their black rubber boots matched. She'd never seen a town militia this organized, but then again, she'd never seen a gang look this – neat. BDN came immediately to mind.
There was no neon on these uniforms. There was an odd emblem in the top right-hand corner, though, a black patch surrounded by yellow, five-pointed stars and a shield of some kind. She didn't want to be caught staring, so she simply averted her gaze to the floor and walked carefully along. Because Elizabeth was so obviously unarmed, they were assuming she was as well.
That was a card she was going to save until it looked like there was no other way out.
Hopefully they'd be led to whoever was in charge of this . . . group of people, let Elizabeth smoothly apologize their way out, and be back on track in a matter of minutes.
Her chin raised slightly. Forget Elizabeth! She was a Bernardelli insurance agent, and she was pretty sure this ship wasn't covered by contract. It might not want to be, but if they thought this group was just salesmen . . . well, that might get them shot. There were no smiles on the men around them, just stern faces and fit bodies.
"Not a very talkative group," Elizabeth commented. "Are you going to tell me who you represent?"
No response. Meryl watched them for any sign that they might be warming up to her, and instead accidentally met the eyes of one of the soldiers. She looked away quickly, but couldn't help noticing he continued to stare at her long after she averted her eyes.
Damn! Did he realize she was armed?
But he said nothing, and they didn't stop, and it seemed like iles went by before the lead guard reached up suddenly and tugged on the front of his uniform jacket. He held something towards a slightly glowing panel in the wall, and a set of twin doors slid apart with the hiss of escaping air.
An airtight room? Of course. She was on a spaceship.
Elizabeth entered as though he were escorting her into a fine hotel room, and Aaron followed her in exactly the same way Vash had done, so long ago. It rankled her a little bit, but she clamped a tight lid on it when she realized the solider that had been staring at her was also standing by the doors. She kept her eyes on the back of Sunjy's head and followed him into the room with her best attempt at a natural expression.
She figured she looked naturally anxious. And angry. And scared. Because that was how she felt.
If they got locked in this room for who knew how long, there'd be nothing to prevent Knives' human toy from being kidnapped by the saboteurs just like Millie had been. He'd get tipped off, they'd have no leads on where to find Vash and Millie, and when Knives realized something might have happened to his brother –
Well, then, maybe these little grey soldiers would be the only humans left on Gunsmoke.
Assuming Vash hadn't told Knives about it.
Two of the soldiers flanked her as she went in, and for an excruciating few seconds she was certain they were going to stop her. But they didn't. They allowed her to follow Sunjy towards a translucent white table, surrounded by six chairs that were anchored into the floor.
Other than six people and the table and chairs, the room was completely empty.
"Have a seat," the one that had been staring at her said. "I'm afraid you're going to be here for a while."
No one sat. Sunjy looked at her carefully, and she looked at Elizabeth. Elizabeth was casting a disappointed look around the room.
"I think we've been cooperative enough," she purred. "I have a car waiting outside of your ship, and a meeting in Mei later this afternoon. Please tell your employer to hurry – my time isn't cheap."
The soldier didn't move. She frowned at him.
"We didn't realize anyone had laid claim to the wreckage. No harm, no foul?"
It was an ancient Earth saying, the original meaning had long since been lost but the gist remained true. Neither soldier responded.
Meryl stood straighter, and looked the one that hadn't been staring her in the eyes. "My name is Meryl Stryfe. I'm with the Bernardelli Insurance –"
"I know who you are," the other one said, interrupting her almost apologetically. "Don't think that your contributions are unappreciated, but there's nothing we can do."
She blinked, momentarily nonplussed, and stared at him. "My . . . contributions?" she heard herself echo.
The soldier actually smiled. At her!
"You chose an inopportune time to . . . stage an invasion." His look lost its humor as he locked gazes with Aaron. Aaron, for his part, glared from deep-set eyes like any gang grunt she'd ever seen. The change in him was astonishing.
Of course. If Elizabeth treated him like he was stupid, and he acted like he was stupid, they'd think he was stupid. Unfortunately, there were lots of them and they had guns. Then again, the main force of them had probably moved off to do whatever they were doing. She could take these two guards down if she had to.
And Sunjy, at least, had indicated he knew she was still armed.
"Currently we have a situation that requires our commander's full attention. When he has a moment he will hear your concerns. Until then, you will wait here until you have completed your interviews."
He was talking to the entire room now, and Elizabeth raised a well-manicured eyebrow.
"An invasion?" She laughed, her voice pleasant and warm. "I see. Please tell your commander to hurry along. As I said, I have an appointment."
"You'll have to break it," the first guard responded, his tone a little challenging.
She smiled alluringly at him. "It's not the kind of appointment you can break," she murmured. "I'm sure you understand."
"I think you'll find it's already been cancelled," the guard responded coldly. "We will begin the interviews when you have relinquished all your weapons."
Meryl's heart sank as the second guard looked at her squarely, but she returned what she hoped was a blank look.
It's now or never, Meryl –
"Aaron, didn't I tell you to give the men your gun?"
He made a churlish face and reached for the back of his pants. Both guards immediately focused on him, raising their weapons at his less-than-slow movement. He was giving her an opening at the risk of his life –
Meryl drew. In the corner of her eye she also saw Sunjy, a blur of motion. She fired, aiming to shoot the weapons out of their hands rather than injure them, and two rifles went flying, clattered to the ground several feet from the guards.
Sunjy was completing a maneuver that had rather gently tackled Elizabeth into one of the chairs, and Aaron was already in the process of hitting the soldier that had recognized her.
That left her facing the first one.
He wasted no time in charging for her. She threw the used derringers at his head, already grabbing the next pair as the doors hissed open.
Some of them had still been outside.
She managed to pull the next pair before the first guard could get to her, and he froze, but the advantage was already lost. Two more guards advanced into the room, one towards her and the other on Aaron. He paused, his fist cocked back over his shoulder, and regarded them. The guard that had recognized her was slumped in his grasp, his uniform collar wrapped around Aaron's hand.
"Drop 'em, miss."
She looked back at the rifle, pointed at her face, and contemplated her chances of getting off both rounds. He held the rifle expertly, and his eyes were cold.
"I won't ask you again."
The guard she had her derringers leveled at still didn't move, despite how confident his companion sounded. Did she want to kill over this?
Did she want to be killed over this?
She glanced at Sunjy, protecting a surprised-looking Elizabeth with his tiny frame, and at Aaron, who met her eyes. He never moved his head, but she got the impression of a grim nod, and he released the guard he'd been pummeling.
She sighed, and slowly lowered the derringers.
The closest guard walked up to her and accepted them. "The cloak too," he noted, and she carefully unfastened the top and held the white fabric out to him. He didn't drop it or even flinch, but it was clear the weight surprised him. The guards near the door hadn't lowered their weapons, and she took a deep breath.
So much for intercepting that letter.
She carefully didn't look at Sunjy, watching as the first one knelt by his almost-unconscious companion. He frowned, then tapped what looked like a shiny black button on his collar. "Get a med team to holding room one," he announced, as though he expected it to actually happen, and then he threw her cloak over his shoulder and grabbed the second guard under his arms, hauling him out of the room. The two armed guards backed out after him, and the last thing they saw before the doors closed were the rifles.
Meryl frowned at Aaron, who looked none the worse for the encounter save the gun he had presumably hidden had also been taken. He gave her a dead look, and she wasn't sure it was because he thought their might be some kind of surveillance still on them or because he was disappointed with her. As far as she knew, Sunjy was in the clear, if he did indeed have a weapon.
That left them one. One gun against however many dark grey guys there were.
"So much for getting out of here in time," she managed, and sat down.
Surprisingly, the seats were very comfortable. They almost felt as though they were full of liquid instead of stuffing or hair, and she looked down at the neutrally-temperatured cushion she was sitting on before poking it experimentally.
It almost felt like it was full of a really thick pudding.
Elizabeth didn't show nearly the same outward curiosity, sinking into one before leaning back and crossing her legs primly. "Don't give up hope yet. We still have our interviewer to speak with. Once they figure out who we are and why we're here, I doubt they'll feel we're important enough to bother their 'commander'."
Aaron and Sunjy remained standing, and she couldn't help but notice Sunjy eventually crossed the table to stand next to her. She looked up at him and gave him the best smile she could manage. It probably looked fake.
"I'll be fine."
He looked vaguely amused, but didn't say anything for a time. Then, "What contributions were they referring to?"
She sighed, shaking her head even as she racked her brain. "I've never seen them before," she finally admitted. "I didn't recognize the insignia on their arms, either. They're behaving too well to be a gang, and they're not wearing federal colors." Not that she would expect the government would have been sitting on this ship and not doing something with it.
Were they doing something with it?
Elizabeth was watching her with a piercing look, much more the woman in charge that Meryl remembered than she had been when the guards were in the room. "Let's stop the chatter."
Meryl blinked at her, taken aback. "What-"
"Clearly they know you. They're using Lost Technology. We're being monitored visibly and audibly. If they want information, they can come in here and ask."
Meryl kept another sigh to herself and looked around the room. The table was semi-see-through, some kind of plastic. The walls were non-descript, paneled white, and the ceiling was flat. No other doors. No windows. Not even a visible vent.
Way to freakin' go, Meryl, she scolded herself. As if Wolfwood could really speak from the grave -
Of course, it had been Elizabeth who noticed the exhaust, and Elizabeth that had chosen the path they'd take. It wasn't like she'd led them here –
But she hadn't told them about it, either, in the guardhouse back in Collins. She'd just laughed and talked to herself. She'd told them no one would be in the ship, and she'd found the hatch handle. She'd told them to turn around and sprung the trap in the corridor, as well.
Who were these people? Where had they come from? What were they doing? With those insignia, she really didn't believe it could be a simple gang. A secret government facility, maybe? Nothing else seemed likely, not as organized and . . . decent wasn't the right word, but it wasn't far off, either. Polite wasn't the one she wanted . . .
The door hissed open again, cutting her search of her vocabulary short, and two armed men entered. They did nothing more alarming than take up positions on either side of the door. A third, in a light grey uniform and no visible weapon, walked in a few moments after. He had a clear clipboard, with oddly earmarked pages and a simple, silver pen. He didn't even glance at them.
"We'll interview them in pairs. Ladies, if you'd follow me . . ."
She carefully didn't look at Elizabeth and stood under the watchful eye of the guards. She felt a little chilled without the familiar weight of her cloak, and she knew her standard Bernardelli uniform was badly wrinkled. She was also acutely aware that she didn't smell great, and hoped that she at least shared that in common with Elizabeth.
Apparently one of the perks of painted-on pants was that there wasn't enough material to wrinkle.
The girls walked silently as they were escorted down the hall. This new officer lead the way, and a single armed guard brought up the rear. Despite the fact Elizabeth was between her and the armed guard, and she was close enough to this new officer to choke him, neither seemed particularly tense or uncomfortable with the situation.
Considering less than five minutes ago she'd had one of these guys at gunpoint, this was not the response she was expecting.
Meryl considered trying to bluster, but she didn't think it would have much effect. Mei and Inepral City had no idea this ship was out in the desert. The government had no idea this ship was out in the desert. Vash, Wolfwood, Millie and the other passengers on the bus knew about it, but one was dead, the other two were missing, and she had no idea who the dozen strangers on the bus had been. If they told the story of spider robots they'd be told they had heatstroke and laughed out of the bar.
There was no one coming to rescue them. They were on their own.
They were led about fifty yarz to another door, also on the left, and the officer in the lead gestured with his clipboard. He still didn't look up. "After you, ladies," he said in the same cool, polite voice, and after hesitating slightly, she proceeded in.
It was exactly like the other room, only now they didn't have the comforting presence of Elizabeth's two bodyguards to fill up the whiteness.
"Why don't you both take a seat over there." Another gesture. There were only two seats on the side he'd pointed out, and she gave Elizabeth an uncomfortable look as she sat. The tall engineer, for her part, looked as cool as she had when she'd been chewing out the Collins crew.
The guard had come in also, but his rifle was slung over his neck and the hand on the stock was loose. At least they weren't about to be executed.
Their interviewer took a seat across from Elizabeth, on the opposite side of the table, and took a sheet of paper off his clipboard. The edges still had an odd look to them, as though they'd been dog-eared and then the bent corners had been cut off.
"Meryl Stryfe . . . and Elizabeth Boulaise. Is that your familial name, Miss Elizabeth? Your records with the Engineering Federation are a little incomplete in that area."
Both women gaped at him.
He finally looked up, and his face put him in his mid fifties, with what was left of his hair a thin brown, and calm, blue-grey eyes. He smiled slightly at them.
"We have extensive files on the both of you, of course with Miss Stryfe it's a bit thicker," he laughed. "We're sorry about frightening you two, but frankly you're lucky you weren't shot on sight. I don't know how you figured it out, but it's a little disconcerting. We thought we were better hidden than that."
The white translucent table didn't allow for any under-the-table signals to Elizabeth, so Meryl cleared her throat instead.
"Well, think again," she started firmly. "We don't appreciate being held against our will and you can bet we're not the only ones who know."
His face seemed to grow a little more solemn. "Think you have it figured out, do you?" he asked them, voice light.
Meryl wasn't sure what to say, but Elizabeth took a preparatory breath. "Why don't you start from the beginning. We're both approaching this with expectations that might not be accurate."
His lips quirked, and he glanced back down at the clipboard. "Very well. Let's start with you, then, Miss Elizabeth. How long prior to the 'Plant Upgrade' project had you been in contact with Millions Knives?"
Meryl stopped breathing.
It . . . couldn't be . . .
"You misunderstand," the engineer said smoothly. "I'll be asking the questions. How many of your own have been planted in my engineering crews?"
He leaned back in his seat and really looked them over. "No," he finally said, as though trying to convince himself. "You couldn't have just stumbled to us out of dumb luck. Not now."
"You mean now that you've tipped your hands to Knives?" Elizabeth countered. "We were on our way to correct that little error of yours when you so rudely detained us."
His look sharpened. "You know where he is?"
Elizabeth leaned back comfortably in her seat. "First things first. What in the world are you going to do now?"
He glanced at Meryl, and she put on her most professional smile. This was like negotiating a contract. She could hide whatever she wanted.
Of course, usually when she was negotiating she was being honest.
These were the saboteurs? People with their own ship? Their own uniforms? How did they know about Knives? Why did they keep referring to her like she'd been helping them all along?
"I really don't think you ladies have the whole picture," he finally replied. "We 'tipped our hand,' as you say, to Knives on purpose. It would have been more helpful to follow you to Knives, of course, but as you say, it's only a matter of time until he arrives. Hence the tightened security." He waved a hand lazily at the guard.
"Now, I'm going to explain a few thing to you that you might find hard to believe." He loosened two sheets of paper from his clipboard, and his right hand strayed to his uniform chest pocket, as though it were looking for another pen without guidance from his brain. "You can choose not to hear them, and you will be kept here, comfortably, until the solution has been successfully implemented. However, your cooperation would be extremely beneficial to us all, so I hope you'll consider listening to what I have to say."
Elizabeth suddenly sat up much straighter. "What are you planning to do with my men?"
He smiled indulgently at her, and Meryl was pleased to see she didn't respond in the slightest. "They will be kept, for now, out of the loop. But do not concern yourself for their safety. While your little display of rebellion was quite frankly impressive, you saw how quickly it was stopped. We'll sedate them if necessary, but I was rather hoping you could ask them to behave for the next few weeks."
Weeks?
Elizabeth was looking more alarmed by the second, and that in itself was making her stomach clench.
"Who are you?"
He pushed the two sheets of paper at them, one for each. "I take it you agree to my terms? Full disclosure guarantees cooperation?"
Meryl didn't even wait for Elizabeth to respond. "I'm afraid I can't accept those terms, sir," she said, as acidically as she could manage. "Furthermore, you cannot detain me for another moment-" But she couldn't think of a good threat. Or else what? She was going to be very angry?
His sigh seemed heavier than his years. "I'm afraid I can, Miss Stryfe," he corrected her. "I can hold you as long as necessary."
"You don't understand." She leaned forward, not far enough to get the guard's attention but enough to keep this – officer's. "There is an urgent, time-sensitive matter we need to handle!"
He put his silver pen between the two of them. "It will have to wait." His voice brooked no argument. "Please sign the non-disclosure agreement. If you refuse, the guard will see you to your new temporary quarters."
Meryl stared at the document, noting the same odd seal on the top left corner of the document as was on the badges of the soldiers. This man, in the light grey, didn't seem to be wearing one. Did that mean he was just a grunt, or a 'civilian' employee? Or did it mean he was important enough he didn't need the reminder of the master he served?
Beside her, Elizabeth picked up the pen, scanned the document, and signed it. Then she turned to Meryl.
"It's pretty standard," she said reassuring. "You might as well sign."
The tone was so friendly that for a moment Meryl wondered if Elizabeth had been replaced with someone else right before her eyes.
Oh. Oh!
But full cooperation? She couldn't promise that, she didn't even know what she was getting into. She licked her lips and tried again. "As a Bernardelli insurance investigator, my first loyalty will be to my company."
"Then of course you'll want to hear what I propose," the officer said. "It will concern your company's contracts, eventually."
She eyed him uncertainly, but frankly, despite the circumstances it was difficult to mistrust him. His eyes were almost the same color as hers, and the bald pate, surrounded at the very bottom of his head by that mouse brown hair, made him seem like –
Like her dad, almost.
Not that she'd trusted him as far as she could throw him. There was just something . . . engaged about him. As though he really wanted her cooperation. Like he really thought it would be best for everyone concerned.
Knives probably thought passively letting him slaughter her was also best for everyone concerned, but that didn't mean she was going to agree to it.
Elizabeth just held the pen out to her. It was a very subtle way of bludgeoning her repeatedly over the head, and she knew it.
Meryl Stryfe, you're not going anywhere for weeks and not getting any information until you sign this. He said it would eventually relate to business. You could sit and worry about Millie, or you could see what these lunatics have to offer. Either way, if you're detained much longer you don't have anything to worry about.
Meryl took the pen, noting how light it was, and signed her name to the document.
When she was done, she slid the piece of paper across the table, and the man collected it and put it back in his clipboard. She held out the pen, and he took it quite gently.
"Thank you," he said simply, regarding them both. "Please follow me. Listen carefully, and do not interrupt. I will allow you all the time for questions you like when I'm finished."
He stood, gesturing for them to as well, and Meryl got to her feet a little reluctantly. Obviously he was going to show them something, but what could possibly be so revolutionary in a wrecked SEEDs ship that would require a non-disclosure agreement? And with who? Their weird little military?
"Do you have a name?" Elizabeth asked politely, and Meryl almost smiled. So much for saving the questions till the end.
Apparently their guide had the same idea, and allowed a small smile to escape. "You may call me Bryan, if I may call you Miss Elizabeth?"
She merely nodded, and he turned to Meryl. "You prefer to go by Miss Stryfe, or . . . ?"
She began to wonder if maybe this man was actually a doctor of some kind, trying to put them at ease. "Meryl is fine." It sounded curt, and she softened it with an attempted smile. She was pretty sure all she made was a face.
He nodded as though he hadn't noticed the tone or the expression. "Very well. Meryl, Miss Elizabeth, I'm going to give you a brief overview as we walk. Once that's done, I'll be separating the two of you. There are some technical aspects I believe Miss Elizabeth will be more interested in than you, Meryl."
Slightly uncomfortable to be singled out like that, Meryl just nodded. He then stepped back towards the door, and they followed. The guard took up his position, about four feet behind them, and they walked just a step behind Bryan.
"You're both intimately aware of many of the details regarding the recent push from Plant to solar power," he began, and then paused, as though expecting an outburst. Meryl merely nodded, and Elizabeth took her cue and spoke softly. "This is no secret."
He laughed softly. "Of course. And you are both aware that Vash the Stampede has been collecting the retired Plants and taking them somewhere."
Another pause, but Meryl didn't see a need to respond. After a moment, he continued. "I believe those Plants are being taken not to free them, but as I said, to collect them. For some unknown, less benevolent purpose."
They took a hard right, and for the first time Meryl saw a person not wearing grey.
They were wearing white, from head to toe. Their trousers actually ended in booties, and a white hood was thrown back from the young woman's head.
What the . . .? What was going on here?
These . . . these people couldn't be the saboteurs?
Because that would mean Millie – and Vash – were here! Here on the ship!
"You believe Vash the Stampede is going to use them – for what? Manufacture a better gun for him?" Elizabeth couldn't keep the derision from her voice. "What would a gunman want with a Plant?"
Bryan was quite for a moment, and they walked past the girl in white. She nodded respectfully as they passed, and Bryan returned the gesture.
Okay, so not a grunt. Maybe he really was the ship doctor or something.
"I think all three of us know exactly what Vash the Stampede is," he said simply.
"You have him," Meryl heard herself say. It was a statement, and she knew immediately that it was true.
Bryan nodded without hesitating. "Yes, we do," he admitted.
She stopped dead in her tracks, and Bryan paused, glancing back her way. "Before you judge, Meryl, perhaps you'd like to see what it is I am going to show you."
"Do you realize what you've done?" Elizabeth asked, in her deceptively calm voice.
He regarded her, unsurprised. "Yes, we do," he responded. "Please, if you could save your questions till the end? I will answer all of them."
Meryl was rooted to the spot. They had Vash. Here in the ship . And probably Millie too. They were the saboteurs. They thought Vash was going to lead a Plant army against them.
Wasn't it the same thing she'd been wondering just . . . less than two full days ago?
They were going to have to tell Bryan. About the compromise. Maybe if he released Vash unharmed, he could weasel his way out of this somehow –
"Please, follow me," he repeated, patiently waiting. At a none-too-gentle headjerk from Elizabeth, she obeyed.
How had they gotten him? Was he alright? Probably not, if they thought he was going to kill them. Were they some secret military that had been formed while Vash had still been wanted? Were they the reason the bounty on his head had been lifted, rather than all her and Millie's hard work to clear his name?
"Here's where we're a little fuzzy, and I hope you'll be able to fill in the gaps of information," he continued, heading down the hall again. Except for that one woman, they hadn't seen anyone else. Meryl wasn't even sure where in the ship she was now, and she wouldn't be able to find the exit to the surface without a map and a guide.
"We know of the genetic twin, called Millions Knives. We know Knives is likely the one to lead this attack, and we know why. We know Knives caused the Great Fall."
Meryl's feet kept loyally walking, even as her train of thought sputtered. How could they possibly know that? Had Vash told them? Or Millie?
"We also know that Knives and Vash don't have a particularly close relationship," he continued, reaching into his uniform shirt and extending something on a cord towards an unmarked panel in the wall. The wall slid open to reveal a spacious closet, which he stepped into. "Please follow me, and don't be alarmed. This is nothing more than a fancy-looking lift."
Meryl followed Elizabeth into the well-lit closet, and the doors hissed closed behind her. There was a sudden but somehow not sharp sense of motion, and her stomach dropped considerably.
Down. They were going down, and at great speed.
"We know it is fully possibly that Vash had no knowledge of what Knives was planning, just as it is possible that Knives really has no intention of leading the other Plants in an all-out attack on humanity. However, it is not a threat we can afford to ignore. Just the fact that Knives and Vash are removing from human control the only weapons capable of effectively countering them is alarming enough."
"Do you really think a Plant in a bulb would have made any difference to July?" Elizabeth asked coolly. Again, the soft smile.
"Not all bulbs are created for product generation," he replied, a little cryptically. "We are about to come to a stop. Please, do not be alarmed, and proceed out the door and to your left."
The stop was not jarring, but her heels felt heavy in her shoes as the door hissed back open. She headed out, then to her left, waiting for Bryan to emerge from the elevator and begin leading again. He did so with a nod of thanks.
"We determined a forked approach was the best way to prevent this disaster from occurring," he continued, his voice a bit dry, as though he were lecturing on a subject very close to his heart. "We needed to stop the collection of the Plants by Vash and Knives, and we needed to contain them."
A chill ran through Meryl's chest, and she glanced at Elizabeth. The same thought had apparently crossed her mind, as well, but she just shook her head slightly. She was asking Meryl to wait.
Wait for what? This Bryan to lead them to Vash's dead body?
"The best way to do that, we decided, was to use the more gentle Vash to lure Knives to us. Hence intercepting the letters," he added as an afterthought. "I assume you were on your way to April, ladies?"
Neither responded, but he seemed to interpret that as assent.
"We actually sent you qualified engineers, Miss Elizabeth, to ensure that no humans came to harm with our slowing efforts. It's taken us about six months to fully prepare everything, but we're certain at this point that we can effectively capture Knives once we determine a location, and keep the Plant contained securely. Once that is done, we'll need to relocate the lost Plants and reintroduce them to their bulbs."
Elizabeth laughed, low in her throat, but didn't say anything as Bryan turned an inquiring eye her way. She was shaking her head.
Meryl didn't feel like laughing. She felt like screaming.
"What about Millie Thompson?" she asked, as neutrally as she could manage.
Bryan turned his head slightly, but didn't slow his rather brisk stride. "I'm afraid I don't have much information on your partner," he admitted. "She was taken in by one of our teams for safekeeping, but that team has yet to check in. I can assure you she won't be harmed, it was for her own safety."
Taken in? Did that mean kidnapped? "When?"
He didn't slow. "I will give you every piece of information we have on her whereabouts when we've finished here."
She was close to reaching out and grabbing his arm, but Elizabeth caught her eye and shook her head slightly. She glared icily, and received a blast of frigidness in return. Bryan was apparently oblivious to their exchange.
"Your cooperation, of course, has to do with the projects after the reclamation of Knives. Meryl, obviously we'll need your fine company's assistance in reassuring the settlements already converted or in the process of that Vash the Stampede no longer poses a threat. Miss Elizabeth, your innate knowledge of Plant systems and your unique experiences with the extraction of the lost Plants would be invaluable to the restoration project."
They still continued down the hall. It was eerily empty, a huge space with no explanation. Maybe a long time ago it had contained crates, storage of some kind. Perhaps they'd gone through all their supplies in the last hundred and thirty or so years. Maybe that's why they were so pro-Plant as the only source of power. Eventually they came to another door that slid open to admit them.
This still didn't explain who they were. He was speaking like they were the government, but nothing she'd seen indicated it besides their organization. Was it really possible these were federal officers?
Behind that door were people. Lots of people. Lots of white suits. But grey suits as well, some light like Bryan's and others dark, like the soldiers they'd previously encountered. A few men and women were wandering around in white coats that concealed fairly normal-looking clothes. They looked like a cross between doctors and extremely well-prepared Plant maintenance crews.
Meryl felt her stomach curl further into her body cavity, and she really started looking around.
They had entered what looked to be a research area of sorts. There were monitors everywhere, far more than she had ever seen in all the ships she'd had the fortune to see. People moved back and forth silently, carrying vials or clear plastic plates containing dozens of tiny wells. The lights were quite bright, so bright even her shadow was dimmed.
He gestured towards a door on the far left. "If you would follow me . . ."
Every step brought a feeling of dread. She knew exactly where this was going. This was going straight to a cold-sleep tube. She'd seen them, in Doc's ship, row after row of empty tubes. Had that been what was missing from the previous chamber? Cold-sleep tubes? Was that their answer to the 'problem' of Vash and Knives? Freezing them until they ran out of power?
"Another part of the project is to learn how to manufacture Plants," he continued, a little more softly now that there were other people around. "Many have been depleted since the Great Fall and learning how to produce more would definitely assist us with the gradual, successful terraforming of Gunsmoke."
They were led four stairs to another chamber, this one also protected by a sliding door. Meryl barely had the heart to look up, afraid of what she was going to see. A frosted window. A sleeping face.
What if he hadn't done what he had done in Hondelic? Would these . . . these people have gone to these extremes? Clearly Bryan didn't realize the deal Vash and Knives had struck, he had no idea what he'd done. Doomed them all. If Knives ever found this place, saw his brother like that –
But when she steeled her heart and raised her eyes, she didn't see anything resembling a sleep tube. She saw something that looked very much like a cleaner version of a Plant control room.
"Knives' prison?" How was Elizabeth staying so calm through all this? Didn't she realize what this psycho was really saying?
"Just so," Bryan agreed. "We've confirmed that it will remain a safe environment despite the anticipated power spikes, so the only thing remaining is to locate the Plant and overwhelm it."
He said it so simply. Overwhelm Knives. Like it could be done by a few dark grey soldiers with their toy rifles.
Overwhelm it.
Not him.
Meryl looked out the main window at a glowing bulb, noting this room was full of people in the white coats. While there was no dreaded cold-sleep chamber, there was a hideously awkward chair, encased in a metal frame and track that made it appear as though it could be turned completely upside down if it was desired. No one was currently in it, but she'd seen technology like that once before.
The entire room was nothing but Lost Technology. Every person in a white coat had some kind of communication device in their ear. A much older gentleman, with graying hair and cool green eyes noted their entrance and strode over.
"We're entertaining tours now?" the man inquired mildly.
"Dr. Greer," Bryan greeted him. "May I present Meryl Stryfe and Elizabeth Boulaise. They've agreed to assist us with the restoration projects."
Meryl held out her hand in a business-like manner, and the doctor smiled a bit humorlessly as he shook it. "You're quite the legend around here, young lady. It's good to finally put a name to a face."
The keen interest in the doctor's eyes had faded slightly as he'd spoken, but perked up as he took Elizabeth's hand. "I've heard a great deal about your recent modifications to Plant technology," he said respectfully. "While of course it wasn't without its mistakes, you definitely have a gift."
Elizabeth smiled at the backhanded compliment, inclining her head slightly. "I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage, doctor," she replied kindly. "I'm not familiar with your work."
"Ah ah ah! And how could I put such a lovely woman at such a despicable disadvantage," he said in mock horror. "If I might borrow her for just a moment, commander?"
Bryan nodded once, and Dr. Greer led her gently by the hand to a series of monitors and meters.
Commander.
The commander that had something too important to handle to see them?
She stared at him accusingly, and he smiled slightly. "Until you signed the non-disclosure agreement, it was essential my rank was not revealed," he offered by way of explanation. "You have me at a disadvantage as well, Meryl Stryfe. I never imagined someone who wrote such stirring reports would be handling this so calmly."
She didn't know why she was handling this so calmly. She didn't feel calm at all. She felt as though she were standing in a throng of blank-eyed men who were slowly advancing on her, unable to figure out why they were attacking and how to get away.
Vash had had to take a life to get her out of that situation. She wasn't going to make him do it again.
"Stirring . .. reports?"
Surely he didn't mean –
"Most of our information on Vash the Stampede came from the reports you sent to Bernardelli," the commander murmured. "This is the second time you've been on my ship, if I recall correctly."
Her head was spinning, and she glanced again at Elizabeth, deep in conversation over some readings. No help.
"You – you were here?"
He nodded. "It was quite fortunate, actually. Until then we hadn't realized that Vash the Stampede was a Plant. Shutting down all power production certainly got our attention," he added dryly. "I believe Dr. Greer and Elizabeth have a great deal to discuss, so if you'd follow me, I will give you what information we have on your lost partner."
"How? Why didn't we see you?" She stopped dead, anger coursing through her. "Why didn't you call off the robots when they attacked the passengers on that bus? That little girl?"
Her raised voice was attracting attention, but she didn't care. How could he so coldly stand there and admit to all but ordering helpless people to be injured, possibly killed?
"Originally they were designed to be a way of preventing lost buses – exactly like yours – from bothering our site. However, you saw how poorly that idea worked. They were programmed to cause minor injuries only. The child was quite safe with them. We were only intending to frighten away the locals. They picked a rather – unfortunate place to chart one of their most-traveled roads."
He smiled again, as though she could sympathize with him. She found not a shred. "Why didn't you make yourselves known?"
He blinked, taken aback. "To what end?" he asked. "Our internal security was fairly lax at the time, most of our crew in cold-sleep while we worked on plans to salvage what was left of the original SEEDs resources. Only in the last two years have we woken the majority of the technicians you see working now."
So everyone had been sleeping. But if Vash cut the power –
He seemed to see the question in her eyes. "More than a few were woken that afternoon," he confirmed. "Luckily, secondary systems kicked in quickly enough to retain power to about half the tubes. Since the New Kennedy was a military vessel, not a civilian one, we were carrying mostly hard supplies – planes, large earth movers. We have a current crew of one hundred and fifty-two."
He started to walk again, but she didn't move. Something flickered in her peripheral vision, and again, she glanced without thinking.
It was the bulb. It had restored itself almost immediately, but as she watched, it flickered again. One of the technicians hurried over to Dr. Greer, who bowed his head briefly before dismissing the technician. He said something else to Elizabeth, who nodded vaguely, still staring at the screens. Then he headed towards the uncomfortable-looking chair.
"I believe it is about to get very busy in here. If you would please follow me –"
But she didn't. She stared at the bulb. There was nothing to see, it was golden yellow just like the one in Collins. Clearly there was a Plant inside, but he'd said it was Knives' prison, so –
She put a shaking hand to her mouth.
No. If that were true, Elizabeth would have put that stupid chair through the glass. It was just another Plant, being forced to spike energy so they had some way of measuring, of safeguarding.
Elizabeth was just watching the meters, calmly. Her hands were at her sides, fingers relaxed, shoulders relaxed. Utterly at home amid all this technology. She was staring at one monitor in particular, and Meryl noticed that image was the one projected on the largest of the screens. She wasn't even sure what it represented, just a ball of white in a square of black, but not quite a ball, it was changing shape seemingly at random.
The white flickered in time with the yellow of the bulb.
Was the –
She felt a gentle hand on her arm, but she didn't react. The hand began to guide her out the door; she almost fell over as he gently but firmly pulled her. His grip pinched slightly as he caught her weight, and her blood chilled.
"Wait," she said weakly. It just couldn't be. It just couldn't.
She stumbled under his firm but unrelenting grasp, eyes glued to the monitor. It flickered again, and when the white reappeared, for just an instant it was an outline. She could make out the legs of the Plant, and something else –
An arm? A wing?
The shape wasn't right at all. They were all slender, fragile little things, but if that black was the rest of the bulb, this Plant would have been –
Would have been –
"That isn't –"
And then he'd successfully gotten her out of the room. She stumbled down the four steps almost sightlessly, the monitor image burned onto her retinas. It hadn't been. It couldn't have.
It wouldn't work, her brain stuttered. You couldn't just take –
She stumbled, and without knowing quite how, found herself seated in another one of the pudding chairs. Voices were speaking around her, but she just shook her head slightly, trying to shake them off like flies.
Oh, god.
Her hand was still over her mouth, and she felt it curl tighter and tighter, holding it against her quivering lips.
Oh, god.
"How could you?" she breathed. She didn't listen to the voices' reasons. "He saved your lives. He saved all of you . . ."
Oh no. No no no no no . . .
She blinked, looking around her. She saw faces. She saw white. She saw dark grey. She saw a black rifle.
She stood, a little unsteadily, shaking off gentle hands that reached out to support her. Stumbled again, a little closer to the dark grey. A little closer.
It would shoot through the control room glass. It had to.
She lunged, making contact. Everything felt numb, she knew her fingers had wrapped around the barrel though she could barely feel the cold metal. Her fist struck the guard's face squarely, and she wrenched the weapon free –
But even in the short amount of time it took her to turn, to chase away the white, she couldn't feel the gun anymore. She knew it was still in her hands, but she couldn't see it. She couldn't see anything at all. Voices were talking, but it was just a buzz in her ears. Nothing made sense.
Oh, please. Please, no.
Vash.
- . -
Author's Notes: Important note: I made up Elizabeth's last name. I looked everywhere, and couldn't find a reference, so I'm not sure she ever had one. If she does, please correct me and I'll edit the chapter.
This chapter got a little carried away, but since I'm about to head out and not come back for a long time gasp! I wanted to throw it out there for you folks. This is by far the longest and quickest-written chapter of the story, and I apologize in advance for the typos that are likely to be in it. I caught what I could see on a read-through, but unfortunately I am new to the fandom and don't have a beta-reader. But I'm cute, and I write fic payment.
Alaena – by all means, point that stuff out! I need all the help I can get. ; )
I will probably only be able to get one more chapter squeezed in before I go, and I apologize in advance for spoiling you only to make you wait.