About Time
by April CK
Part 11
There were only three actual gods in existence that could be considered superior to Korin and Oolong was insulting one of them.
"I thought Time was supposed to heal all things, not chop them into itty bitty pieces."
Upon hearing this remark Time went rigid. Very slowly, the god turned to face them. Staring out at them through hollow eyes. Still clutching the sword, still covered in tracks and ticking like... well... a timebomb.
Oolong did in fact know what he was risking. He'd attended Voodoo U. He'd studied Cosmic Wrath every Tuesday afternoon. Ironically enough, the class on Spiders and Large Needles had been more frightening. You could avoid Spiders and Large Needles. It was okay to be afraid of things you could avoid, that made sense. Cosmic Wrath was significantly less preventable though and there was no point in worrying much about things you couldn't change.
Puar and Master Roshi both stood as far away from Oolong as was possible to do without falling off the flying carpet. Oolong ignored them. The helmet of his spacesuit reflected the image of an angry god. "Well I hope you're happy with yourself." He snorted. "You've gone and ruined a perfectly good time machine." He almost laughed - he'd always wanted to die laughing. Oolong turned to his cringing peers. "Don't you guys realize what this means? The moron has created a time paradox!"
Time did not appreciate being called a moron. The god advanced, hefting the sword in a way that suggested he could easily destroy them without the blade - but why rush things? Time had all the time in The Universe after all.
He can kill us. Some part of Oolongs brain was shivering with the force of the thought. Over and over and over and over... And it will just keep happening because we're between timelines now, we're in the loop.
Yet what Oolong was sincerely hoping for was to appear back in the submarine as if the last few hours hadn't happened because perhaps they shouldn't have. If the time machine didn't exist then it couldn't cause ripples in time and thus their world shouldn't have suffered from time distortions. And Oolong wouldn't have come to visit Time if there hadn't been time distortions so logically, as soon as things straightened out, he shouldn't be here anymore.
But of course, Time was working against them. And if the time machine had been destroyed without having arrived in the past... Then it hadn't really saved anyone. It hadn't had the chance.
"HEY!" Puar lunged forward and pointed so suddenly that even the god seemed startled. Everyone turned to see what she was pointing at.
Before anyone could stop her, Puar was out of her spacesuit and shifting form. Oolongs jaw dropped and Master Roshi whistled low in admiration.
From the depths of an extremely large blue-tinted hourglass, Time screamed. The god lashed out but the living walls leaned away from him, dodging his blows without releasing him. Puar spoke hurridly. Her voice, like the rest of her, had become glassy but the undertone of grim determination was there. "FIXthetimemachineNOW!"
She had studied shapeshifting at the Academy - of course - but her degree was in Quantum Metaphysics. Proud though she was of her education, Puar had never mentioned the details of her degree to anyone since there hadn't been many situations where her specific educational background made any difference. For once all the diligent hours of study were paying off - if only by allowing Puar to fully understand her situation.
Puar knew that sometimes, you had to fight fire with fire. Or in this case, time paradox with time paradox. If they could just hold Time off and fix the time machine then the time machine would change the past. It only needed to be a one way trip because if the time machine changed the past then the future would be also be affected and in the end maybe the new future wouldn't have a time machine in it at all. The time machine was bound to undo the reasons for its own existence and this was the paradox Puar was hoping to provoke. If everything went right, there wouldn't be any side effects because there wouldn't be any time machine to cause them.
At this point Oolongs brain clicked back into gear. "You stupid cat!" He shouted, "What the hell d'ya think you're doing? You'll get yourself..."
Time finally landed a blow. Puar shattered. For a moment the air was filled with shards of glass that shrank and became something else... body parts... but then in haphazard fast-forward, the explosion reversed. Puar was slammed back together.
"One down." She growled. And then she pounced towards Time again, shifting form.
"... cats have nine lives." Master Roshi sounded ill. "She's going to throw away all of them..."
While Oolong had not always been particularly fond of the blue cat, he'd known Puar longer than anyone else still alive and that counted for something. Quite a lot, actually.
He dropped out of his spacesuit, removed a small flat case from a pocket and slapped it into one of Master Roshis hands. "Hold this." Oolong blurred around the edges, shifting. When it was over, he reclaimed the case. "I think we can stall him." Oolong tried to sound brave as he darted away from Master Roshi. "But you'll have to fix the time machine."
The case was full of needles. Long, thin, sharp sewing needles that glistened as if coated in liquid. Oolong wasn't sure why he'd always carried the case around. He'd privately vowed to never use the talent again because the pain wasn't worth the results. But there had always been so much else going on that he'd never really gotten around to cleaning out his pockets.
Oolong had shifted to become a miniature version of Time. He took a deep breath and shakily selected a needle, preparing to use a skill that he'd sworn to avoid using after surviving college... at good old Voodoo U. This had better work.
Earth shuddered. The entire planet waivering as if caught in a violent storm - which in way, it was. For even as the shapeshifters assaulted Time, Feng collided with divine opposition.
Upon Fengs death nineteen years ago, Love had become distant. Caring and charity had, for the most part, ceased. All over The Universe relationships had lost their passion and creatures had become indifferent. Yet despite Loves absence children had still been born. This is because, in the end, sex is not the same as love. Reproduction is an instinctive part of mortal life because reproduction ensures the survival of the species.
Feng slashed the air, leaving a trail of flames over the shoreline. But Survival sat just out of her reach, calm as ever.
Of the five siblings Korin was the eldest, Feng was the third eldest and Chaozu was the youngest. Survival was the second eldest of the batch and the only one that had successfully retained his true mythical form. He hadn't always looked terribly mythical. It was something he'd had to grow into.
If anything mortal had been watching then they would have been confused by the scene. There was some sort of large mostly-invisible monster stomping up and down the shoreline of South Island, bellowing. There was a circle of pinkish light rotating around the mostly-invisible monster. And then, in the ocean just in front of the monster, there was a mediumish island that seemed rather out of place. An island of white sand and palm trees and a pink house with the word 'kame' painted on it.
Feng shrieked and the flames gave the momentary impression of wings. One of the wings was bent but Feng began flapping them anyway, sending a shower of sparks into the water. The ocean sizzled, the Kame House smoldered and the palm trees caught fire.
Survival rolled over, dunking the island into the ocean to put out the fire on his back. Two massive black fins - one in the front, one in the back - rose out of the water as he rolled. He flicked a tidal wave of water at Feng.
Love was drenched. It made her visible. Feng stood nearly twenty stories high and had a wingspan that was easily double her height. She had a long slender neck, a hooked beak, an arced back, two large hoofed feet and glowing pink eyes. Her ghostly body was covered in colorful feathers and dark stripes. Feng was not what mortals thought of when they heard the word 'phoenix' but nevertheless, that's exactly what she was. The Immortal Phoenix. It wasn't Fengs fault that mortals had decided that her true form was too hard to draw. She wasn't going to be simplified to a regular bird-o-flame just because mortals disliked pictures of mythical birds with hoofs.
Nineteen years ago, some idiot mortal living on an island had given her an edible offering. Feng had died of food poisoning while flying over the ocean. Thus her physical body was now underwater - the one place where it could not heal itself.
Survival had been there. He'd been much smaller back then and rather more green than black but he'd been there. The mortal had called him Umigame, a name that meant sea turtle. And then, later on without realizing it, mortals had begun calling him something else: Kame Island. And he was still growing. One day, mortals would call him Continental Drift and eventually - if he made it to full adulthood without dying again - Survival would be carrying galaxies on his back. He was a pitch black Unikame, a mythical universe turtle.
Fengs firey spirit flared and dried, becoming mostly-invisible once more. She limped up and down the shoreline, flapping and hopping experimentally. Love was not in the air but she wanted to be. It would give her a tactical advantage.
Sister, this is unlike you. What makes you so hostile? Unikame thought slowly, his giant fins sinking beneath the waves as he righted himself. It is not healthly.
Tradition without Love is meaningless! The words came with difficulty as if thinking clearly required extra effort and Survival recognized that his sister was not speaking completely on her own behalf. Feng was being spoken through. Half the pinkish orbs of light drifted towards him. You can not win! Surrender!
Unikame backpaddled and lifted his massive head out of the water, sometimes snapping at the orbs of light. He tried to appeal to his sisters conscience, tried to talk some sense into her and tried to throw enough water at her to make her cool down.
But Feng was completely possessed and these two divine siblings had never been very close. Their realms had often put them at odds. Survival was the patron of endurance, memory and tradition while Feng was the patron of friction. Love, war, fashion trends - Feng had always been passionate about causing changes. She could be downright impulsive too. Unikame simply couldn't adapt fast enough.
Heaven was an amazingly beautiful place. The perfectly coordinated cloudscapes, the warm soft glow that everything had, the fresh air, the way that almost anything you wanted would materialize on demand. Except people.
Krillen was resting on a cloud. He'd given up on trying to find anyone for now, he needed the break. Heaven wasn't exactly crowded - you always had enough space - but there were just a lot of other spirits there. In a way though, being unable to find specific people might be a good thing. Gave a person more of chance to think. Krillen had no idea what he was going to say to anyone when he did finally find them.
His parents, for example. Although he'd died at age 31 so it was possible that his parents might still be alive. But they would die someday. Sooner or later it had to happen and it would probably be sooner than later if the androids had their way.
From what Krillen remembered of them, his parents hadn't been bad people - they just hadn't been ready to be parents. He didn't really begrudge them much. But he wished that he could understand the reasons for their actions better. What precisely did you say to people who'd abandoned you at age five? Thanks for leaving me at a monestary instead of in a dumpster? And he wondered if his parents had ever been aware of what he'd become. He'd been on television more than enough with all the battles and tournaments but he'd never heard anything.
Maybe they hadn't recognized him. Maybe they had been busy or in some kind of dire trouble. Krillen hoped that wasn't the case. He might not have any idea what to tell his parents but he at least wanted the chance to eventually see them again. It was going to be awkward though, the family had been apart for so long. Twenty-six whole years. So much had changed. Krillen wondered if he'd be able to recognize them.
He was on the verge of drifting to sleep - because the clouds were very comfortable and nobody can stay stressed forever - when something gently shook one of his shoulders and said: "Krillen-san?"
Krillen didn't immediately open his eyes. Very few people on Earth had ever added the respectful '-san' suffix to his name and he sincerely hoped that none of those people were dead. He braced himself for the worst and looked up. And very nearly fell off the cloud in surprise at what he saw.
"DENDE!"
There was a moment of shared happiness and a hug before things became coherant again.
"Wait a minute." Krillen demanded, utterly confused and trying to get accustomed to the sight of a Namek with a wingspan. "Why are you dead? Didn't we save your planet already?"
"Freezia has relatives." Dende sighed for indeed, that's who it was. He ruffled his wings as if they irritated him and untangled his halo from his antenna. "Since Freezia almost died on Namek-sei, our planet became viewed as a threat. The Icejins don't tolerate threats. They made that painfully clear." The young Namek perked up and added, "For what it's worth though, we didn't mention Earth to them."
"... Er. Thanks. Earth has enough of its own problems."
"Apparently." Dende spoke slowly, with heavy accents. It had been four years since he'd used any language aside from Namekian. "You were exploded anyway, huh? A shame. Earth was a nice planet."
"Uhm. As far as I know, Earth is still intact." Krillen said carefully, grimacing. "I was exploded though. How did you guess that?"
It was Dendes turn to look surprised. "No guessing. Didn't anyone tell you? There are - "
"LEVELS? Of heaven?" Yamucha shook his head and tried to make sense of the concept. "You're kidding, right? Levels?"
"Levels." Nodded a semi-elderly man who had his wings folded behind him.
Most of the spirits that had been in heaven for a while wore robes and this semi-elderly fellow was no exception but his robe had a certain symbol on it. It was the same symbol that Yamucha had on his fighting gi - which was at home in his closet.
Yamucha had been at a baseball practice when he'd suddenly become aware of certain kis or rather, of the absence of certain kis. He'd flown straight from the practice to the conflict and thus had died in his baseball uniform. But if he'd been wearing his orange fighting gi then there would have been small symbol on the front, just over his heart. A symbol that Goku, Krillen and anyone else who'd been trained by Master Roshi wore on their uniform. The kame mark.
The semi-elderly fellow wasn't Goku or Krillen. He wasn't even someone that Yamucha had ever met before. Yamucha had simply seen the kame mark in passing and had decided to start talking to strangers since he hadn't found anyone else yet. After all, this was heaven - the strangers had to be nice.
"So basically what you're telling me is that everyone else HERE, on THIS level..." Yamucha tried to think of dignified way to say what came next but failed. "... was squished?"
"Correct. The level of heaven that you are sent to is determined by cause of death. That way, nobody feels alone. Everyone ends up with a support group full of spirits that can relate." The elderly fellow chuckled dryly. "Welcome to Squished-R-US."
"... Gee, thanks." Yamucha grumbled. He was significantly less than delighted. He no longer had facial scars - that part was wonderful - but he didn't know of many people that had been run over or otherwise crushed. And that meant that everyone he did know who was dead, they must be on different levels of heaven. "Pardon me for asking but whatever happened to the concept of heaven as a place where family and friends are reunited?"
"Ah. That. Yes. A lot of people expect that." The old man sighed. "It would be nice but according to the office demons, not very organized. Because technically I guess all things are related somehow..."
"... so they'd have to allow everyone to be on the same level." Yamucha realized.
"Right. And that's not likely to happen. Office demons have to have things tidy."
A thoughtful silence.
Yamucha had never quite gotten the knack for saving the world - despite his best efforts - but he'd always been fairly good at looking out for himself. And he didn't want to be stuck for eternity on a level of heaven with a bunch of squished strangers. Not without at least making sure that certain dead friends and relatives were as okay as dead people could be.
"There has to be a way to go between the levels."
"Stairways." The old fellow agreed. "The stairways are heavily guarded and staff-access only but they're there."
"Great. That'll work." Yamucha offered out a hand for an introductory handshake. "N' by the way, I'm Yamucha. You are?"
The elderly gent smiled pleasantly and shook Yamuchas hand. "Gohan." He noticed the reaction. "... What?"
"Uhm..." Yamucha dug out the memories. "Legendary martial artist accidentally squished by a large were-monkey. That was you, right?"
"Yes." Gohan - Senior, although he wasn't aware of that yet - looked puzzled. "How did...?"
"I've heard stories." Yamucha said more seriously. "Your adopted grandson was very sorry - but it'll be better for him to tell you all that. Now where are those stairs?"
It was a delicate spiral staircase built from metal wireframe with the steps spaced out at regular intervals and the clouds visible between them. The extreme top and bottom were both hidden from view by drifting cloud layers.
Good thing I'm not afraid of heights. Yajirobe paused to peer over the edge of the handrail. He'd had to pull rank and make some serious threats just to get this far. The office demons might still be after him but the guards hadn't wanted to risk upsetting Deaths Messenger so they'd let him pass.
He resumed climbing, glad that he'd spent the past fourteen years living and training at Korins Tower. The experience had improved his speed, made him accustomed to functioning at high altitudes and had even given him some idea of how to deal with immortals. Skills that were proving to be very handy now that he was dead.
Shame they weren't more useful BEFORE I was dead. Yajirobe thought cynically.
He was headed for the level of heaven that he hoped to find Goku on because he wasn't sure where the rest of the warriors had ended up. But Goku had died a year ago. So they all had some idea of which level Goku was on and hopefully everyone would just find a way to get there. The more people Yajirobe could give Korins puzzling message to, the better the odds would be that someone might actually understand it.
"Uhm... Green One?" Bardock tenatively waved a hand in front of Kamis face. "Hello...?"
Fear was an odd sensation. After everything he'd been through in his life - and afterlife - Bardock was a little surprised to discover that he could still feel pure terror. He was even more surprised at how quickly the fear wore off, replaced by denial.
They weren't in hell anymore. When hell had frozen solid, the elevator had stopped. Daimio had promptly destroyed the elevator and Kami had lead them to this place. This place... Kami had called it limbo but Bardock didn't have words for it. It was too surreal for words. The flashy rainbow sky appeared to be suffering from some sort of drug overdose and there wasn't technically anything that could be called ground. Flying toasters, rubber chickens and other completely silly random objects swirled through the area with alarming frequency.
Daimio also went sailing past. He was bleeding in several places now, his dark robes tattered but he gritted his teeth and powered up enough to stabilize his flight. The demon shouted something in a language that Bardock didn't know and charged forward again.
Lord Enma himself had been waiting for them and he'd brought one of his pets. A blue sphinx. A giant muscular lion with the face and horns of an office demon. It wore a tie and a pair of thick-rimmed glasses and its claws were speckled with maroon blood.
"Green One," Bardock hissed, "this is not a good time for a trance."
Actually, the trance was a bit of a blessing. It gave Bardock a perfectly valid reason for not joining the battle. He stood protectively beside Kami and did his best to prevent anything from clobbering the Namekian god. There really wasn't any point in joining the battle. The sphinx was both huge and strong. Daimio was getting batted around as if he were barely more than an insect. And the scent of blood hung thick in the air, as if something else had died there. Recently.
Kami twitched, still clutching Vegetas unconscious form, and spoke softly. "... junior..." He scanned the bright sky and the whirlwind of weird objects. Searching for something. Staring intently as if wanting to see it would be enough to make it appear. "... junior..." Grief gripped his features. Kami staggered across the air wearing a dazed expression and Bardock followed at a cautious distance, carrying the gods wooden staff as if it were a weapon.
Abruptly Kami stopped in his tracks and reached into the air with one hand, snatching at something that Bardock couldn't see until Kami had grabbed it. Then it became visible. Bardock winced and turned away from the sight. Kami had pulled someone from the verge of non-existence. Someone who, from the looks of things, might have been Saiyan once.
Kamis mind wasn't working very clearly. He felt the pain of others as if it were his own. But when he glanced up, he saw something that suddenly made him much more lucid. A potted plant whirled past and Kamis eyes followed it. Because it was a very familiar potted plant. "... senzu..."
Without hesitation Kami dropped Vegeta into Bardocks arms and, still hanging on to the other mangled Saiyan, threw his free arm out. The green limb stetched, growing until he'd grabbed the senzu plant and then retracting to a normal length. Kami didn't waste any time explaining, he simply force fed the mangled Saiyan a senzu bean and then did Vegeta the same favor.
"Owwww..." Raditz was the first to start recovering. Kami had left Raditz here earlier to ensure that Piccolo Junior didn't escape from limbo.
Kami reclaimed Vegeta and dumped Raditz into Bardocks arms. The god pressed something on his wooden staff - that Bardock still held - and stepped back. Raditz and Bardock vanished. There was transportation magic in the staff. Kami had been saving it, letting the staff charge up. He hoped the spell was strong enough to work as he'd intended.
He turned his attention to Vegeta, who was only just beginning to come around. Kami pressed a green hand to Vegetas bandaged forehead and left the Saiyan Prince with a very clear idea of what had to be done before attaching Vegeta to an artifact that Mister Popo had designed. It looked like a simple bracelet, Kami had been wearing it. The artifact was what had allowed Kami to enter hell without going through Lord Enmas office first. Thus as soon as the bracelet was activated, Vegeta also vanished.
And now that the mortals were out of the area... Finally it was safe to begin.
Catch! Kami thought at his evil twin. A senzu bean flashed through the air.
The sphinx tried to intercept it but missed and Daimio didn't have to be told what senzu were for. Having made a speedy recovery, the demon hesitated between attacks. Any particular reason that you're saving me? We're not life-bound anymore. Daimio had never been one to mince words.
Junior is. Find him. Quickly. Kami instructed. It's the only way that either of you will survive.
Daimio was too busy dodging sphinx claws to understand the situation but Lord Enma had also heard their thoughts. The giant ogre shook his head. "No. You will not survive this time Kami. I am tired of your constant disregard for my authority. I am tired of your Earthlings breaking the rules. You are a poor role model to them. I judge you unfit to remain Earths Guardian."
It wasn't even a threat, it was a statement. A verbal pink slip. Lord Enma was confident in both his ability and his right to do this.
The rainbow sky had gone dark around Kami while Lord Enma was speaking. A thin red line, nearly six feet in length, had appeared behind him. The sphinx suddenly tensed and backed away. The line grew wider and rotated, gaining depth and shape as it turned... Two glowing red eyes the shape of slanted diamonds hung over Kami. Above and all around them, the thick dark green coils of the dragon unraveled. Shenlong blinked, yawned and shook himself awake.
Kami was glowing soft green now and even as he began to fade upwards, he smiled benevolently at Lord Enma. "I have remembered who I am. You have no authority over me."
Lord Enma had been prepared for a renegade minor god. He had been prepared to deal with Saiyan warriors and Namekian demons. But a Holy Dragon... That, he had not been prepared for. And to make matters worse... Kami was fusing with it... Lord Enma gawked at the sight. He had no idea what Kamis motives were but he had the sinking feeling that he would be learning in the near future.
