|
|
By Juuhachigo and MiraiBulma
Part Two:
"Holding On and On Till We Believe"
And I'm sucked in by the wonder and I'm sucked up by the lies
And I dig a hole to climb in and I build some wings to fly
And I think that I could love you 'cause you know how to be free
I want you to come walk this world with me
*****
Bulma's Journal, 267 days after Cell:
Well, thank Dende for small favors--finally there's a little peace in this house. I don't know what went on between them after they stormed out of here that afternoon, but for the past few weeks Trunks and Juuhachi-gou have actually been mostly civil to each other. Today Trunks even invited Juu-chan to spar with him. I thought she was going to faint. It does make a certain amount of sense, though; Juu-chan is the only one left who can hope to give Trunks a half-decent workout.
It's a reasonable assumption to make that all the surviving humans have been accounted for. More managed to conceal themselves from Cell's final rampage than I had first hoped, but there are still less than sixty thousand people left on the entire planet. Less than one percent of Earth's population before the Jinzouningen came.
*****
The pair circled each other warily, defensive, each looking for any opening in the other's guard. The sky was wide and clear and cloudless, the sun shining high overhead.
Twice Trunks had nearly forgotten to power down his attacks. Both times he'd asked Juuhachi-gou if she wanted to stop, and both times she had encouraged him quietly, without anger, to continue. Whenever Trunks felt the old rage building in him, all he had to do was look in the Jinzouningen's eyes. The look behind them was no longer one of disdain or contempt. There was an animation in that flawlessly beautiful face that had never been there before--that, and a remarkable vulnerability. She was almost impossible to physically harm unless he went all-out with her, but her heart was something else again. Over the past several weeks, he'd really begun seeing her, and not the soulless engine of mass destruction she had once been. She really is a different person...I don't know if I can ever forgive the terrible things she's done, but I suppose Kaa-san's right--she deserves a second chance just like the rest of us.
I wonder if she really does like me...? Bakana! What kind of thinking is that? I'm letting my mind wander. I can't afford to get careless even if this isn't a serious fight.
"Your mother's got a secret."
Juuhachi-gou confirmed Trunks' long-held suspicions with a casual air. He stopped in mid-kata and looked at her. "What?"
"You're wide open!" Juuhachi-gou delivered a kick to Trunks' ribs that made him grunt. He rode the impact back, then came at her again. Ducking past her guard, he grabbed her arm as it came swinging at him.
"I have two hands, remember?" Juuhachi-gou shouted as her left fist connected with his jaw.
He snarled and moved behind her, seized her other wrist and twisted her around so that both her arms were pinned at her back. "Nice attempt at distraction," he whispered in her ear. "But I'm afraid you're going to have to do better than that."
She struggled to get leverage and failed. "Kuso."
She stopped her struggles, but he didn't immediately let go of her. He bent his head so his nose was almost touching hers and smiled gently. "So, while I've got you at my mercy...how would you like to learn how to fly?"
Her face lit up and she looked over her shoulder at him with a sudden delighted smile. "You mean you're finally going to teach me?"
"The same way Gohan taught me. Are you ready?"
"Sure, I guess so-oh-h!!" Juuhachi-gou gasped as Trunks took off straight up with her. In a handful of heartbeats Capsule Corporation was an insignificant speck far below them, Hope City clearly visible to their left. Beyond that, the shattered horizon stood stark in the noonday sun, corpses of once-thriving cities scattered across the windswept wasteland.
Trying not to look too hard at the ruins, Juuhachi-gou hung helplessly from Trunks' unrelenting grip. "Okay, we're airborne. Now what?"
"Now this." He let her drop.
Juuhachi-gou screamed and clawed at the air as she fell. "Trunks! Nande yo?!?!?!"
He put on a burst of speed and effortlessly caught up with her rapid descent. "Now, fly!" he shouted over the rush of wind between them.
"HOW?!"
"Just do it!"
"But I don't know--!"
"You've got about ten seconds to figure it out!"
Juuhachi-gou looked at the ground that was rushing up to meet them and gulped. The fall might not kill her, but she was willing to lay odds that it would hurt. A lot.
Something clicked in the back of her mind, and suddenly she took a sharp turn bare inches above the ground. The slipstream burst made small animals scatter as she curved up into the air, laughing. "Yatta!" she cheered. "Yosh'!! Trunks, I take back most of the incredibly nasty things I was just thinking about you!" Effortlessly she pirouetted through the air, arms outspread. "This is wonderful! How could I have ever forgotten this? it's so easy!"
"It's only easy once you figure out how to throw yourself at the ground and miss." Trunks pulled up alongside her, watching with a small, remote smile. "First try. Not bad. It took me weeks to learn. Gohan had to keep catching me. Every time he would leave it a little later, though...there were times I wondered if he d get to me before I hit the ground." He looked away, studying the cloudless blue sky with eyes of a similar color.
Juuhachi-gou looked at his face. "You really miss him."
"Hai," he nodded.
She reached out a hand, but stopped herself just before touching his shoulder. "Listen...I'm sorry. I know it's not worth much, just saying that, in fact it's not worth a damned thing, but..."
She caught her breath as his hand closed over hers. He met her eyes and managed a small smile.
"...Wakatta. I understand." He hoped she realized how much it cost him to say that to her.
"I hope someday that I'll understand too."
She touched down on the roof and sat, staring out at the wasted landscape. He landed beside her, crouching. "What do you mean, my mother's keeping secrets?"
"Huh?" Juuhachi-gou blinked. "Oh. She is," she said after a moment. "And... I think I know what part of it has to do with. Maybe all of it."
Trunks drew back a little, cocked his head to one side. "How do you think you know that?"
"Think about the things she sent us after this morning." Juuhachi-gou lifted a hand, began ticking things off in the air. "Saline solution. Growth hormones. Liquid nutrients. Electronic equipment that can be converted to use as temperature or fluid feed regulators." She paused. "If you wanted to grow your own people..."
"Su-sugoi! Masaka!" Trunks gasped. "Are you saying that my mother's growing Jinzouningen?!"
"Maybe." Juuhachi-gou looked at him. "Think about it. The human race is staggering, ready to topple. There may not be enough people to repopulate the planet. So she's trying to re-stock. If she can grow artificial humans, like...me, then they can be raised as normal people. They can marry and interbreed, and maybe the human race will be strengthened enough from the infusion of 'new blood' to carry on."
"Ah!" Trunks sat down in mid-air. "Kaa-san... I can't believe it, but... it makes so much sense." He looked up. "But why hasn't she told us?"
Juuhachi-gou shrugged. "It's very exacting work. I seem to remember Gero spending days locked up in his labs, monitoring the whole process constantly. Wherever Bulma got her information, it can't be complete. She's probably not sure it's going to work, and didn't want to raise our hopes."
"But you could help."
"Nani?"
"What little you recall might fill in her gaps. We should talk to her."
Slowly Juuhachi-gou nodded. "Maybe. It would be worth trying, I suppose. Nothing's lost if it turns out she knows everything I know already."
"Sou na." Trunks stepped off the roof into midair. "Let's unload the skycar and go talk to Kaa-san."
"Hai." Juuhachi-gou took off after him, already accustomed to the concept of flight.
*****
Bulma rubbed her aching eyes and put her head down on her arms for a moment. The latest figures in from the Badlands were a little more encouraging than last month's, but not much. Human civilization was pulling itself up by its bootstraps, but its grip on those selfsame straps was none too steady. Right now, Capsule Corporation, and Hope City, were probably the only places on Earth where things were almost as they'd been before Gero's madness had overwhelmed them all. Everything else was more or less still under 'disaster' conditions, and in some places, the rumors went, some of the less appealing portions of society had taken over. Dictatorships, miniature armies on the march, anarchists, outlaws roaming the countryside... it was so much to have to worry about.
Sitting up again, Bulma opened a desk drawer and pulled out a battered photo. One of Gokou's little snapshots--he'd loved taking pictures--but this one wasn't one of his usual little hentai collection. She hardly remembered, now, when and where it'd been taken, but the subjects were clear enough. Vegeta, in a rare moment of playfulness; herself, thrown up over his shoulder, caught in the act of screaming and pounding on him in protest as he smirked.
That was... right before I knew I was pregnant, I think. We'd been sleeping together for a little while, and you considered me all yours, didn't you, Vegeta? And me? I was still holding out as hard as I could to avoid committing myself to you. But it wasn't any good. I knew it even then. You were everything I wanted...someone strong enough to stand up to me, strong enough to make me listen, but not break me. We fought so hard... we loved harder.
The picture blurred, and Bulma blinked furiously, trying to stave off the tears. "I never realized until you were gone how much of me you'd take with you when you died," she said aloud. "You arrogant, overconfident, smug son of a sandworm. Whoever said time heals all wounds never knew you." She pressed the picture to her chest, letting the slow tears fall where they would.
"Kaa-san?"
Bulma jerked up straight and hastily swabbed at her eyes, not wanting Trunks to see her crying. "Hai, Trunks-kun. I'm in the lab," she called back.
In a few minutes Trunks and Juuhachi-gou walked in, carrying several crates between them. "Just set them over there," Bulma said, waving a hand. "I'll unpack later."
"Hai." Setting down the boxes, Trunks straightened. "Kaa-san, we need to talk to you."
"So? About what?"
Trunks folded his arms. "I... I'm not meaning to pry, but...Juuhachi-gou says she thinks you're... you're growing people."
Bulma gasped, caught off-guard. She stared at Juuhachi-gou and Trunks in turn, then slowly relaxed. "I might've known you'd figure it out," she said quietly to Juuhachi-gou.
"It took me a while," the girl replied, "but this last load cinched it for me. These chemicals--" she waved a hand at the boxes they'd brought in. "You could make a hell of a lot of concentrate liquid nutrient from this. Enough to support a small army of human embryos as they incubated."
"I suppose it's time to explain, then." Bulma slid out of her chair and crossed to a blank wall of the lab, slid open a hidden panel, and keyed in a code on the number pad she'd revealed. A concealed door hissed open, and faint bleeps, clicks and gurgles emanated from the opening, along with a dim, ghostly light. Bulma turned and beckoned Trunks and Juuhachi-gou to follow her, walked into the secret room.
As he walked in after his mother, Trunks looked around curiously. Rows upon rows upon banks of instruments, the whole thing having the familiar feel of his mother's handiwork; some pieces bodged in from other machines she'd dismantled or never finished, some whole and obviously a unit. He even recognized some pieces of the time machine, cannibalized...for what?
In the center of the room stood four tall tubes, nearly perfectly opaque, partly due to the dark--glass? plastic?-- they were constructed of, partly due to the dim lighting. In each one Trunks could just make out, if he looked hard enough, a form, roughly humanoid. Three of them were still fairly small, perhaps the size of a teenaged child; the other seemed to be taller and broader, the size of a grown man. All four had a faint cobalt aura around them, and if he listened Trunks could hear a low hum, sense a field of energy encapsulating each tank.
"You are cloning humans," Juuhachi-gou said, her voice holding a note of grudging wonder.
"No." Bulma shook her head. "I could never get that far."
"Then, what-?"
Bulma walked over to the first tube, gestured at it. "Piccolo," she said quietly. Moving to the next, she nodded at it. "Gohan." The third in line. "Gokou." Then to the last, and here she paused, looking at it, hands creeping up to clasp in front of her chest. "Vegeta."
"NANDE KUSO?!" Trunks half-shouted, then caught himself. "Gomen, Kaa-san, but--how--why--what!!"
Bulma turned with a wry little smile. "Perfect Cell."
"Who?" Juuhachi-gou said, even as Trunks blanched.
"Gero's final creation. I don't expect you remember the name. It was just plain 'Cell' at first. A completely organic being who was specifically designed to absorb all the artificial humans and by doing so become the perfect fighter." Bulma sighed and sat down near the incubation tubes. "It emerged a few years ago and decimated half the populace, looking for you and Juunana-gou. Of course, by that time, you were... well..."
"Dead," Juuhachi-gou said calmly.
"I was going to say 'out of his reach', but..."
"Don't candy-coat, Bulma. I can't let it bother me. So what did this 'Cell' do after that?"
"Kaa-san built a time machine," Trunks said quietly. "She sent me back in time to give Gokou-san some special medicine. He caught a virus, you see, and it killed him."
"Nobody knew it at the time, but this virus weakened his heart. One day he just...dropped." Bulma drew a deep breath. "I thought, perhaps, if I sent Trunks back to keep Gokou from dying, it would change everything. Instead, it created an alternate timeline where Gokou didn't have a heart attack. I guess I should've realized time wouldn't let me create a paradox like that. What I also didn't know is that Cell stowed away and went back in time with Trunks, where he absorbed that Juunana-gou and Juuhachi-gou, thereby becoming Perfect Cell. He almost destroyed the world, but they managed to defeat him, mostly due to Gohan-kun."
"So." Juuhachi-gou nodded. "And then Trunks came back here."
"Yes. And killed Cell in our timeline too. But something Trunks told me about Perfect Cell gave me an idea. I went to Gero's old lab--"
"Kaa-san!" Trunks clenched his fists. "You didn't. That place is dangerous!"
"Hai, I know. It caved in on me. I only barely got out in time. It was picked almost clean--looters, I suppose--but I did find Gero's notebooks, at least the ones describing the biological incubation process he used to create Cell."
"So you tried to use that technology to grow clones of the warriors?" Juuhachi-gou asked, circling the tanks thoughtfully. "Why just the Saiyajin? And where'd you get the tissue samples from? That was a little long ago, wasn't it?"
"From Cell," Trunks whispered. "He was created using samples of all of them... Krillin, Piccolo, Yamucha, Tenshinhan, Gokou... tou-san. Gero spent years collecting those. He wanted to create something powerful enough to destroy Gokou-san utterly, and everything he cared about. He hated Gokou, didn't he, Kaa-san?"
Bulma nodded, looked at her son. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier, Trunks, but I had no idea if it would work at all, and I didn't want to get your hopes up over what was at that point almost an impossible task. When you killed Cell in our time, I took samples from him. The purely human components didn't survive... but Perfect Cell, you told me, boasted at one point that a Saiyajin's cells grow stronger when they face death. I thought, if that were so, then maybe--maybe--those cells would still be alive. And they were. So were Piccolo's."
"But what good does this do?" Juuhachi-gou waved a hand. "If I'm reading these meters right, you have no conscious brain activity. They're mindless."
"They have to be." Bulma straightened. "Earth has a new guardian, remember--Namek sent Dende the healer here after Kami-sama and Piccolo were killed. I'm sure now that things have settled down he's had time to create his own set of Dragonballs. My plan is to find them and wish the souls of Son-kun, Gohan-kun, Piccolo-san and Vegeta into these bodies--once the bodies are mature, I mean."
"AH!" Trunks' face lit up. "Kaa-san! Sugoi! Of course! You can't wish them back from the dead any more, but wishing them reincarnated might not count! Is that it?"
"That's what I'm hoping. I used the time machine to create a bubble of 'fast time' around each tube. Time is passing faster in there than out here, which is why the clones are so close to being fully grown now. I thought that would be safer than trying to accelerate their growth and maturation with chemicals-- so much of what Gero did is out of my league. I'm much more familiar with machines and electronics than I am with biology."
Juuhachi-gou walked over and stood in front of Bulma. "Bulma... not that I remember it, but...I take back everything I ever might've said about humans being stupid."
"Hm? Nani?" Bulma blinked at Juuhachi-gou.
"For you to think of this, and pull it off..." Juuhachi-gou jerked her chin back in the direction of the tubes. "That's more than smart; that's genius. If the human race produced you, it's not nearly as much of a waste of space as I apparently used to think it was."
Moving closer to the tanks again, Trunks peered in. "This is Piccolo? The biggest one?"
"Yes. I started with him first. Namekseijin have an inborn ability to regenerate themselves, and I figured he'd be good practice for the others. As you see, he's grown even faster than the others. Tomorrow, or the next day, I was going to call you in and explain all this anyway, so I could ask your help in finding the Dragon Balls. Once Piccolo's new body finished maturing, I planned to switch the time field on his tank over to a stasis' setting and hold him in hibernation till the others caught up, then wish them all back at once--" Bulma broke off as a quiet chime began to sound. "Nani?!?" She jumped up and ran to a bank of controls.
"What's wrong?" Juuhachi-gou asked.
"That--this can't be. The sensors indicate a sudden surge of activity in the higher brain centers." Bewildered, Bulma looked from displays to tanks and back again. "If I didn't know better, I'd swear he was waking--"
At that second, with a cascade of shattering glass and fluid, a green fist rammed its way though the side of the tube. Trunks instantly snatched his sword off his back and took a ready position between the tanks and his mother; Juuhachi-gou balled her fists and dropped into a defensive crouch.
Another scream of shattering glass and bending metal, and a form launched itself at Juuhachi-gou, grabbing her up and rocketing for the ceiling, then slamming through it using her as a battering ram of sorts. With a shout Trunks flew up after the pair while Bulma darted out the door, running out into the front courtyard of Capsule Corporation and peering upwards.
High above, Juuhachi-gou and Piccolo were trading blows, with the cyborg getting the worst of it; she seemed to be trying to hold back, but the same couldn't be said of the Namekseijin. Sheathing his sword, Trunks halted in mid-air, drew a deep breath, focused his ki, and let the air out in a rising shout: "AhhhHHHHHHHAAAAAA!" Instantly energy exploded up his body and his hair spiked, flushing gold; his eyes lost their pupils and turned an intense cobalt and his entire frame grew subtly larger to contain the power he'd called up.
Once the transformation to Super-Saiyajin was finished, Trunks darted in and grabbed Piccolo from behind, trying to put him in a full nelson while shouting, "Piccolo-san! Dame DA! Yamero!!"
"Whoever the hell you are, you'd better let go of me," Piccolo snarled back.
"Not on your life!"
"Fine. You're asking for it, boy. And I'm just the one to give it to you." Abruptly Piccolo flipped himself forward in mid-air. Trunks' hands slipped on the Namekseijin's still-damp skin and he pitched off, catching himself in mid-fall and whirling to face Piccolo again.
In the second of silence that followed as they sized each other up, Bulma's voice could be heard from below: "PICCOLO!! KONO YAROU! Ima YAMERO!!"
"Huh?" Piccolo glanced down, eyes widening a bit. "Bulma. Damn, is that you?"
""Who do you think it is, baka!? Kaiou-sama in drag?!?! Chikusho!!"
The Namekseijin blinked; chuckled. "Yeah, that's you all right. Foul-mouthed as ever." He glanced up at Trunks, then scowled. "Wait a second. You're Saiyajin. And that aura..." he put his head to one side. "You're Vegeta's son, aren't you? Trunks, right?"
"Hai."
"Then what're you doing defending her?" One green arm leveled at Juuhachi-gou, who folded her arms and rolled her eyes, exasperated. "She killed your dad, hot shot, along with a lot of other people. Me included."
"That was then. This is now. She's on our side."
"You sure about that?"
"Sure enough to keep you from killing her. If I can't kill her, neither can you."
"Hey--!" Juuhachi-gou protested sharply.
Piccolo laughed. "Smart mouthed. I like that." He looked at Juuhachi-gou. "Okay. It's a truce."
"Good." Juuhachi-gou smirked. "That means I don't have to kick your round ass square for smashing me through the roof, right?"
"You're welcome to try, anytime." Piccolo let himself drift downwards to the ground; Trunks and Juuhachi-gou followed.
"This is beginning to get old," she muttered as they landed. "Am I going to get this warm a reception from all of these people when they wake up?"
Trunks winced. "Probably."
"Wonderful." Juuhachi-gou shoved a stray lock of hair back. "At least you and the Jolly Green Giant over there aren't holding grudges."
"Remind me sometime to tell you how I started out knowing these people," Piccolo said over one shoulder with a mocking half-grin. "Now then, Bulma. Two questions. One, what's going on. Two, where are my clothes."
"Oh well you're welcome," Bulma said sharply, planting her fists on her hips. "I'm so glad to hear you're happy to be alive again. As long as we're asking questions, what are you doing back in your body? I hadn't even wished--"
"Wouldn't have done you any good if you had. Shenlon has no jurisdiction over the dead when it's been longer than a year, remember? Besides which, there aren't any Dragonballs right now. Dende hasn't recreated them. He was summoned from Namek when I died, and he was nowhere near ready. He has the ability to create the Dragonballs, but not the skill.
Bulma's face fell. "That means..." she faltered, and fell silent, turning her face away.
An odd expression crossed the Namekseijin's features; he reached out, almost hesitantly, then put a hand on Bulma's shoulder. "Don't worry," he added, voice softer. "You haven't wasted your time. Now I understand why Dende's been walking around for a while trying not to smile every time he saw the four of us. He knows what you're up to."
"That still doesn't explain how you returned," Trunks said.
"Easy, hot shot. Namekseijin regenerate. Soon as our bodies restore themselves, no matter how long it's been, our spirits are automatically drawn back to them." Piccolo shrugged. "As for Gokou and the others, I've got a feeling Enma-sama is about to get the talking-to of his life..."
*****
High above in Heaven, Dende opened his eyes and smiled. He was very young for a Namek-jin, the guardian of a dying world...he knew how the rest of his race regarded him. Any of the others would have abandoned Earth long ago as a lost cause.
Dende didn't believe in lost causes.
" Okaerinasai, Piccolo-san," he whispered.
"What is it, God?" the small, round black figure at Dende's side asked.
"We're about to have company, Mr. Popo," Dende answered. The young Kami-sama lifted his head, watching as three small dots in the sky resolved themselves into figures which swooped in and landed. "Gokou-san, Gohan-san, Vegeta-san," he said. "It's good of you to visit me."
"Never mind your damn pleasantries," Vegeta all but snarled. "Where the hell is Piccolo?"
"Ah, Kami-sama, Piccolo disappeared a few minutes ago," Gohan added hastily, trying to offset Vegeta's less than perfect manners.
Gokou nodded agreement. "We were wondering if maybe you knew what had happened?"
"Oh yes." Dende turned, strolled a few feet along the edge of his world, looking down in the direction of Earth. "He's alive again."
"Nani?" Gokou's eyes opened. "How'd that happen?" He scratched his head. "Can't be the Dragonballs."
"And when it is our turn?" Vegeta added, taking a step forward.
Dende turned with a gentle little smile. "All in good time, Vegeta-san," he said mildly. "All in good time."
"To HELL AND DAMNATION with your 'all in good time'!" The Saiyajin Prince took another step, to be restrained by his two companions. "Tell us! What are you up to?!? What game is this you're playing?!"
Dende only looked back over the edge. "You have a very determined and resourceful woman, Vegeta-san..."
"Bulma!" Gokou broke into laughter. "Haaaai! Yooooosh!"
"Bulma-san!" Gohan's face lit up.
"Bulma," Vegeta echoed in a whisper, and turned to look down towards the Earth as well. "This, this is her doing?"
"Worlds, stars, even the gods, all come and go," Dende said, starting to walk towards his palace, then stopping just abreast of the trio to look at them each in turn. "The only thing that endures is love." A faint breeze stirred his robes. "Be patient, Vegeta-san. This is Bulma's fight, and mine too. You must trust us to win." His eyes grew distant. "Soon you will go into battle again. Terror is moving on the Earth, and a greater darkness is still to come when fear is past." With that, the young Namekseijin continued into his palace.
"Oi, but, Kami-sama," Gokou called after the departing Dende. "When do we get to leave? I want to see ChiChi again! I haven't had any home cooking for years!"
The breeze carried back the answer: "All in good time..."
*****
Chapter Three Return to Fan Fiction |
|
|