When Meryl and Millie crested yet another dune, they saw ahead of them a miniature city made of tents. Both women gave the caravan a long look before looking at each other.

"What do you think, Millie?" the short, dark haired woman asked her friend.

The big girl thought for a moment. "I don't know, Meryl. If Mr. Vash and Mr. Priest came through here, those people must have seen something . . ."

Meryl smiled. "But . . ."

Millie grinned back at her. "But I remember how much fun we had last time we saw a caravan."

After thinking for another few moments, Meryl nodded. "We'll ask someone. If you want, you can stay with the car."

The taller woman turned and looked out the windshield. "Thanks, Meryl. Let's go."

With a roar, the car leapt forward, careening from dune to dune as though Vash were driving it. People standing near the edge of the massive camp started shouting and pointing before they began to run out of the way of a vehicle that appeared to be out of control.

In what seemed an impossible maneuver, Meryl brought the car to a skidding halt just at the edge of the camp. Almost before it had stopped moving, the short woman was opening the door and jumping out. She made a beeline for the nearest person she could see.

Meryl leveled her signature glare at the poor man, nearly smiling when he took an involuntary step backward. "I need to see the head of security immediately," she snapped, somewhat mad that she was no longer sure as to the direction Vash and Wolfwood were heading.

The shabbily dressed man wasted no time in turning and nearly running toward the security office. Meryl hurried to keep up with him, and ducked inside the tent that he indicated.

Behind the wooden crates that doubled as a desk sat a somewhat heavyset man. Without even introducing herself, she leaned onto the desk and glared at the man. She had found in the past that to get results, the best thing for her to do was look angry. Really, she didn't know why it scared so many people when she got mad; she was such a nice person, it really didn't make sense to her. Oh, well. Whenever Vash got "The Glare" as he called it, he usually deserved it.

Even the caravan's head of security was taken aback by the look she gave him. "What can I do for you, Miss?"

"I'm looking for two men," she answered smartly, not letting her glare waver. "Both of them are tall; one has dark hair and was carrying a large cross. The other has tall blonde hair and was armed with two large pistols. Have you seen them?"

The fat man thought for a moment. "Well, yes, we have," he said. "But why should I tell you where they went? For all I know, you might be trying to kill them."

Meryl crossed her arms and stood up straight. "For your information, the blonde man is my fiancé, and the other man is my friend's lover. Are you going to tell me, or not?"

Now, the fat man leered at here. "That depends on what you and your friend will do for me." His lip curled as he looked at her suggestively.

Meryl's glare turned into a sickened look. "You," she said, as though she were a judge passing a sentence, "are a very sick man."

She uncrossed her arms, and had two derringers pointed at the head of security's head before he could blink. "I'm willing to forget what you just said," she informed him matter-of-factly, "but if you do not tell me how to find my fiancé, I will just have to shoot you and ask someone else."

The head of security swallowed the large lump in his throat and began to sweat profusely. "Okay," he said, pulling a map out of a drawer, "sure. You need to head towards these mountains. They were driving directly towards this pass between the two largest."

Meryl took a close look at the map, then turned half-away. "How long ago did you see them?" she asked carefully, tucking the two small pistols back into their holsters in her cape.

Obviously happy that the two weapons were no longer pointed at him, the fat man sat back in his chair. "They left about two hours ago," he told her. "Stopped to get some water and food, then just took off. The blonde guy didn't look very happy."

Quickly taking her leave, Meryl practically ran back to the car, where Millie was still sitting inside. "Two hours," the dark haired woman muttered. "We're only two hours behind."

The car's tires spun in the sand for a moment before they caught some traction, and the car once again sped off. "We're pretty close to where Mr. Vash is heading, aren't we, Meryl?" Millie asked.

"That's right, Millie. I just can't understand how they managed to gain two hours on us. All I can think of is that Vash must be driving now."

The blonde man looked at him through round, dirty glasses, his hair hanging down to his shoulders. He wore dirty jeans, a battered shirt, and suspenders, but carried a huge pistol. "Thou shall not kill, remember? What the hell kind of churchman are you?"

Vash took his eyes off of the road for a split second, looking at Wolfwood when he murmured something. When the man was awake, he couldn't see anything of his friend in there but, when he saw him sleeping, he could hardly believe that he had died. The darker haired man murmured something more and shifted in his seat

He pushed the doors of the church open, leaning heavily on his cross. "I hope you don't mind me barging in like this. In spite of the profession, I've never actually made a confession before." He spoke for another few moments before collapsing to his knees, still leaning on his cross as he both felt and saw the lifeblood draining out of him. "I did not want to die this way!" he cried, his head tilted toward the church's ceiling.

The blonde gunman slammed on the breaks when Wolfwood cried out. The dark haired man sat up straight, fear in his eyes.

"Why did you say that?" The Humanoid Typhoon demanded, leaning on the steering wheel.

The ex-priest took a moment to regain his composure, then straightened the dark sunglasses he wore. "It's nothing," he said gruffly. "Just dreams. Keep heading towards the pass in the mountains. We'll be there soon." He leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes.

Vash gave the car some gas, and sped off. His mind was in a whirl. Why would he say that? That was the last thing I heard Wolfwood say; his last words were to tell God that he didn't want to die like he had. How could this clone know that? How could he remember?

The car moved on in silence, with Vash driving a little slower. When they had first left Inepril City, he had known that he wouldn't be able to shake Meryl and Millie and so he decided that as long as they were following, he shouldn't make it difficult for them. Wolfwood, on the other hand, had driven like he had a demon on his tail, and so Vash was unsure as to whether Meryl and Millie were actually still behind them.

Wolfwood was wide awake fifteen minutes later, when he ordered Vash to stop the car in front of the cliff below the mountain pass. They walked along the wall of rock until they came to a hole in the sand. The ex-priest opened a metal door and motioned for Vash to go in first, then followed.

Immediately inside, Vash recognized the airlock of the ship he once called home. "Where will we find Knives?" he asked quietly, running his flesh and blood hand along the bulkhead.

"In his trophy room," Wolfwood answered shortly, closing the airlock behind them and then leading the way down the corridor. They walked for several minutes before they arrived at their destination. During the walk, Vash spend his time in silence, remembering the layout of the ship and the time that he and a seemingly innocent Knives had spent with Rem.

Wolfwood came to a stop at the entrance to the ships massive cryo chamber. "He's waiting inside," the clone said.

Vash dropped his hands to his sides, checking that both of his pistols were available and clear in their holsters. He squared his shoulders and picked his sunglasses off of his nose before slapping the door's activation plate. The room was dark; all the blonde gunman could see was shadows upon shadows.

He stepped through the open door with Wolfwood a step behind him. The door swished shut behind them.

"Hello, Vash." To the average eye, the voice was disembodied. Vash, however, could see the darker shadow of Knives sitting down about forty feet ahead of him. At his brother's words, Vash felt a rush of déjà vu. "Did the human's treat you well? Did you have fun, dear Brother?"

Vash, conscious of Wolfwood's presence, adopted a gunfighter's stance. "Yes, actually."

The lights snapped on to full, giving Vash his first full view of the room. What he saw took his breath away and nearly sent him to his knees.

Nearly all of the cryo tubes were full, but none of them had lights running on their control panels. Over five thousand people were there, he knew. And they were all dead. The cryo tubes were no longer held in their racks, but had been stacked along the walls like boxes of dolls. Vash felt sick as he remembered sitting in the cryo bay control room, watching all of these people sleep while he talked to Rem.

His eyes fell on Knives, sitting next to a small white table in the middle of the room with a glass of champagne next to him. "Do you like my collection?" Vash's younger brother asked with a laugh. "We watched them for so long, I find that I enjoy having them around me as a reminder. Rem tried to use them to teach us about human hope and tenacity. I learned a different lesson."

As he said that, the younger plant waved his hand towards the sky over his head, revealing more cryo tubes, these ones suspended overhead. Ten tubes formed a semicircle, and the still darkened eleventh and twelfth tube was suspended in the middle. Vash's expression hardened, but his stomach twisted as he read the names.

Monev The Gale, Dominique the Cyclops, E.G. Mine, Rai Dei the Blade, Leonov the Puppetmaster, Gray the Ninelives, Hoppard the Gauntlet, Zazie the Beast, Caine the Longshot, and Legato Bluesummers were the names on the labels on the bottom of each of the ten cryo tubes. The knife in Vash's gut twisted as he recognized the reality of each face with each name, seeing the wounds that he knew had killed them.

"I learned the futility, the hopelessness of human life. I learned that without us, they are nothing. And I used him to teach you. She was just a bonus." Knives gestured again, and the eleventh tube lit up.

Vash didn't even get the chance to read the name before seeing the face sent him to his knees. "You bastard," he choked on the words. He clenched his eyes shut and felt tears squeeze out. "Damn you, Knives!" He raised his now tear-streaked face to look at the cryo tubes. "Damn, you," he whispered, reading the two names and feeling his heart drop into his feet as he recognized their validity.

Rem Saverem. Nicholas Wolfwood. Those were the names on the tubes.