Trigun Fan Fiction ❯ What If ❯ Theories ( Chapter 3 )

They were only about twenty iles from the city of LH before anyone in the small car spoke. For most of the trip, Millie and Meryl simply hung on to anything they could grab and prayed to whatever powers there were that they would live through the trip as the car pranced from dune to dune. Vash was hunched over the steering wheel, the look of a crazy man on his face as he drove.

"Hey, Mr. Vash," Millie shouted over the howl of the car's engine, "why did we have to leave so quickly? You've only been back one night."

Vash smiled at her over his shoulder, throwing Meryl into a more serious series of fits as he took his eyes off of where he was going. "Sorry. It's just that Meryl told me something important, and I really want to take a look."

Millie opened her mouth to ask Meryl what she had told him when Vash goosed the accelerator, speeding the car up even more. Quickly, she shut her mouth in an attempt to hold down her breakfast.

When they arrived in the town, the first thing Meryl did was punch Vash. "What was that for?" the gunman demanded, looking surprised.

She didn't bother to explain her reasons, she just stomped past him to pay the gas station attendant. When the car's tank had been filled up and Vash started to sit back down in the driver's seat, Meryl was there to stop him.

"I don't think so," she shouted, grabbing his coat by the back of the neck and yanking him backwards.

"Oh, come on!" the tall, blonde man protested. "I was just having some fun. I'll drive slower this time, really!"

The small woman shook her head sharply. "No way. I'm driving this time. I swear, I don't think you ever really learned how to drive. All you do is try to pull some stupid stunt."

"But-"

"I think she's right, Mr. Vash," Millie spoke up. "I think it really will be safer this way."

Meryl gave Vash a sweet little smile. "There you go, two against one." She placed her hand against his breast bone, then gave him a hard shove, knocking him flat on the ground on his backside. "And Millie gets to ride in the front," she finished in a tone sweet enough to match her smile.

"Oh, really, Meryl?" the tall girl asked excitedly. "Is it really okay, Mr. Vash? Can I ride up front?"

Vash opened his mouth to say something, but ended up simply gulping air like a fish. "Of course you can, Millie," Meryl answered for him, slamming the driver's door closed. "Vash doesn't mind, do you Vash."

He shook his head ruefully and stood up, dusting himself off. After shutting his door, he laid down across the back seat and pushed his yellow sunglasses up his nose. Meryl drove for several hours in silence, before a question that she had to ask popped into her mind.

"Vash?" His answer was a grunt. "I'm wondering, if Rem was on one of the ships that crashed almost a hundred and forty years ago, and was about twenty-four years old then, how could she still be alive until nineteen years ago? And how could she look as young as she did?"

The tall gunman sighed and sat up. "The answer to that is a theory. On that SEEDS ship where Brad died, the lead doctor had some ideas. He noted that the people who spent a good deal of time around plants tended to live longer natural lives."

"But as far as I knew, Grandma Saverem never went anywhere near a plant."

Vash leaned forward and rested his head on his hands on the seat back between Meryl and Millie. "If your grandma really was Rem, then she did spend time around plants, after a fashion. Rem was like a mother for me and Knives after we were born. We aren't technically plants, but something more. Plants can't move about freely, but I can. While I can still talk to them, and generate power like them, I can generate more. I can control them. I can recharge them. The doctor thought that if a plant could help someone live longer, being around Knives or I could extend that even farther."

Millie gave an "Ooohhh" of awe, but Meryl just shook her head. "But it's just an theory," she pointed out. "That means it hasn't been proven."

"It has now," Vas told her, leaning back in his seat. "Legato."

"I don't understand."

"Legato was about twenty when Knives recruited him thirty years ago," Vash explained. "How old did he look when he died?"

Meryl didn't answer, but Millie did. "Twenty?" she supplied helpfully with a big grin.

Vash nodded. "Twenty. And that was living around just Knives. Rem lived with both Knives and I for at least a year. That could have been more than enough to extend her life like that."

"But . . .How . . . What does that mean for Millie and I?" Meryl demanded in a strained voice. "We've spent at least three years either with you or close behind."*

He stretched and yawned, pulling his glasses off with two fingers and tucking them inside a pocket. "Well," he shouted enthusiastically, "I guess that mean's that if you eat well and exercise regularly and don't get sick, you could live a long time!"

His only warning was Meryl's groan before her fist caught him in the forehead and knocked him reeling. "I ask him a serious question, and all he does is make it a joke!" he heard her dimly say.

Millie's concerned visage swam into view over the back of the front seat. "Are you okay, Mr. Vash?"

"Uh, yeah, sure. Never better," he smiled, giving her a thumbs up. He laid down as much as possible in the small car's rear seat. "Hey, Meryl."

"What?" she snapped.

"Are we there yet?"