-136-
Vash- I know you were trying to keep quiet about it, but I do have eyes. You
looked about ready to keel over from hunger. Here.
that's the understatement of the week. the kid plows over Vash in a heartbeat,
stuffing his face immediately and being almost wolfishly protective of it. after
a few moments, however, he calms back down and resumes his watch out the porthole…
-137-
… into the black ink of the night, lit only by the numerous, bright
lights of the sandsteamer.
TRIGUN #5 Assault
-138-
Vash- It's blacker than pitch out there… Too dark for anyone to try an
attack, don't you think?
hunger temporarily sated, a silence not necessarily awkward, yet not very friendly
either, settles…
Vash- Y'know, I wonder sometimes. Things like whether or not our… arrival
on this star might not have been something of a happy occasion for us all.
-139-
Kid- --------- Never crossed my mind. I've been on this planet since I was born,
ya know. But you… you're like those people who were around during the Big
Fall of a hundred plus years ago… an honestly nice person.
-140-
the conversation drops off from there. the Kid is still staring out the window,
dinner but a memory, and Our Contemplative Hero picks up a cup to sip meditatively.
the Kid's words hit some sort of nerve…
Vash- …… !!
… and the sleeping drought in the drink hits like a ton of bricks. Vash
drops to the floor, down and out for the count.
-141-
quick as a wink, the Kid is back up in the ductwork, leaving Vash snoozing.
Kid- Sorry 'bout that, Mr. Nice Guy. …… just one left. Gotta hurry.
There's only 7 minutes 'til the assault!
-142-143-
elsewhere… their lights dimmed to stay out of sight of sandsteamer or
caravan lookouts, a mass of trucks and armor plated cars is teeming with…
ah, well, I guess you could call them "men", since you can't tell
anything at all of their features except for height. why? because each is wearing
the same total-body concealing uniform, complete with faceplate that looks like
a gas-mask bolted to a porthole rim, and small tuft of hairs atop each that
almost resembles a forelock. the dark suit slopes from the domed head right
to the edge of each shoulder, banishing even the hint of any neck, and three
strips of bright neon run from pecs to shoulderblades on each side. one man
lounges indolently on the hood of an open roadster, standing out from the horde
of Mooks like a peacock stands out from a flock of drab hens. dressed in white
with neon strips everywhere, even formed to the likeness of cat-slit eyes over
each breast pocket, ten-gallon hat pulled low over his eyes, and a pair of huge
almost keg-drum looking, er, things set at each arm, from ear to elbow, standing
out from his shoulders and generally adding a bit of imposing bulk to an already
imposingly large form, the gang's leader bides his time. above the heads of
all, a single sign with the letters "B" and "L" glares bright
against the night.
enter Brilliant Dynamites Neon (BDN) and the Bad Lad Gang.
-144-
flicking out a zippo lighter with a flourish, BDN lights up and takes a leisurely
drag from a cigarette that looks scarily similar to a Fourth of July sparkler,
and the lit end sparks in just the same fashion.
BDN- Hey, Beramy!
Beramy- Yeah?
BDN- Time?
Beramy- 2… 2… 5… 3
BDN- Okay!
-145-
BDN- Listen up, rats! It's just about that time! Seven minutes to the parade,
and we're goin' in style!
-146-
back on the "Flourish", the Kid sneaks quietly out onto one of
the smaller observation decks. glancing around, he pulls out a small vial from
his overall pocket, twists the end and the flare lights up brightly.
that's just the signal the Bad Lad Gang was looking for…
Beramy- Hm? There it is, the purple flare. And it's right on time. YO! HERE
WE GOOOOOOOO!!!
-147-
where there was just ink black, a mass of bright neon spots stands out. as
BDN had said, the Gang is going 'in style' and making no attempt whatsoever
at subtlety.
Sandsteamer Lookout- ?! Captain! What's that…?
as the lookout takes a better look, a pair of roadsters leap over a sand
dune much closer than comfortable to the sandsteamer.
-148-149-
Sandsteamer Lookout- THE BAD LAD GANG!
…waaaaaay closer, in fact. Many of the Bad Lad roadsters are actually
between the sand steamer and the caravan. Looking up from the perspective of
the drivers, one gets an awfully good idea of how HUGE the steamer is…
-150-
and it looks like the Gang's caught the caravan completely flat-footed on
this one…
Caravan Driver- ?! What the hell's that?!
…*fump*…….. KABOOOOM
Caravan Driver- YIPE!
…that, dearie, is a rocket launcher.
-151-
Mook- We ain't got time for you wagon shmucks! Outta the way!
it's not like the caravan drivers can do much to nay-say-- those few judiciously
lobbed rockets made a nice dozen or so truck pile-up that the rest of the caravan
hasn't gotten around yet.
Caravan Driver- Damn! Highway bandits that well armed?
Caravan Lackey- What the hell's the Big Man in the steamer doing? Chasing them
off is in their part the deal, too y'know…
actually, they have problems of their own. if the caravan was caught flat
footed, then the steamer turned around to realize somebody'd pulled their trousers
down around their ankles…
Crewman- Battle Room! ………?! No answer? What in the world is going
on down there?
i think they're all very busy being unconscious…
-152-
… the cause of which is floating invisibly, wafting in through the air-ducts
that maze through the sandsteamer, ultimately sourced at a small capsule taped
to the side of the duct work, all put in strategic places by one little mouse
who's been scuttling though them all day…
meanwhile, the commotion has finally wakened Meryl and Millie--
Meryl & Millie- Huh?!
-153-
Meryl & Millie- What's going o--
WONK
trying to sit up, both get about four inches off the bed before hitting the
bottom of the bunk above them… that has got to hurt.
Meryl & Millie- ……………!
Runnerby- We're under attack! They're coming in the rear starboard door!
and they're knocking with automatics too.
-154-
but the door doesn't really stand much of a chance against the rocket launcher
the Mooks then bring to bear, and the men behind the door last little longer.
a way in secured, a mob of Mooks troops across the boarding-plank and on inside.
-155-
of course, all the smoke from flying sand, smoldering metal and steaming
corpses provides a wonderful curtain for the grand entrance---
BDN- And finally, the grand leader of the magnificent Bad Lads, the ultimate
band of raiders that rides the ocean of sand like a dreadnaught, Brilliant Dynamites
Neon has arrived!! From this moment on, anything that shines inside this ship
is property of me.
only after his grandiose speech has wound down does BDN notice he has an
audience of but one; the Kid.
BDN- That was some really beautiful work, kiddo. Next on the program is to get
all the passengers together in one place, so lead the way to the party room.
-156-
meanwhile, back in La La Land, where Our Comatose Hero has wandered off to
after getting drugged and dragged onto the bed…
Vash- //thinking// A song… I can hear a song…
-157-
reality no longer looks like a fairly well appointed first class room…
it's now more of a wide grassy plain. a blanket is laid out and a picnic basket
rests on one corner. Vash is sprawled on his side, famous red duster replaced
by a white t-shirt and jeans. dressed similarly, a woman with long, unbound
black hair sits with knees drawn up to chest. she was singing…
Woman- …Are you awake?
Vash- …… ------!!
-158-
Vash- ………… Rem. ----- I had this dream. A dream where absolutely
everything was so terribly dry. Everything. Even people's souls. With the world
around them like that, I kept wondering over and over again why people kept
on living.
-159-
Rem chuckles.
Vash- ----? What's so funny?
Rem- It's just that you're always so serious, even when you're dreaming. Keep
thinking such heavy thoughts all the time, and you'll be an old man before you
know it. Me, I'm exited that the ticket I was handed at birth is blank.
-160-161-
Rem- Whatever happens, you can find the solution if you just look deep inside
yourself and see what you're capable of. That's the best you can do.
no sooner does Rem finish saying that than the ground begins to crack and
crumble, falling away in ever larger chunks, like shattering glass. Rem sits
peacefully on her chunk as it gets pulled further and further away from where
Vash sits. Our Hysterical Hero, however, is far, far less than calm.
Vash- REM! Don't go, please!! REEEEEEE~~~~~~~~MMMMM!!!!
-162-
reality intrudes with a jolt as Vash falls off the bed, into the crack between
it and the wall. it takes a moment for him to compose himself, though he lets
only a single tear escape. good thing that he did take that time, too, for a
few seconds later a Mook pops his head into the room, gives it a quick scan
and takes off, never noticing Vash stuck beside the bed.
Vash- ……… what's going on?
-163-
moving back to the 'party room'… all the passengers have been gathered
into the huge dining room, but none of them are having a ball. nor is BDN, for
that matter. the take was much less than he'd expected apparently….
BDN- Shit, is this all? Damn poor chumps!
Mook- Boss!
…perhaps because the passengers were smart and stored it all in that
monster vault?
-164-
BDN- Hello, hello! What have we here? And it's a big sucker too…
that's an understatement… like everything seems to be in this ship,
the vault is gargantuan. the door is at least two stories tall.
Ship's Accountant- You cannot open it! Not a single person on this whole ship
was told the combination to the big vault. On top of that, we will not get the
key for the access codes that go with the combination until we reach our destination!
BDN- Not bad. I gotcha perfectly. So that means there's nothing we can do except
bust it wide open.
Ship's Accountant - ?!!
-165-
in the "Flourish's" bridge, BDN tacks a topographic map of the
area to the sill of the "windshield" with a very large, sharp-looking
knife.
BDN- Go around that mountain there on the right and then keep straight. In five
minutes you'll see a dry riverbed, there you take a north-north-west course.
That's where we start speedin' up. 10 minutes at top speed, and we reach our
destination. Enora Cliff.
Captain- Damn you! You're insane!
-166-
well that was the wrong thing to say… that's definitely gonna leave
a mark or six.
BDN- Shaddap. The best thing for a piss-poor life is an early, glorious death.
And if it ain't done with flair, what's the point?
my… now isn't that a wonderful sentiment. read on in part #6…