Part 7: When You Wish Upon a Ball
The ocean, stretching from horizon to horizon without so much as a stone in sight. Vaster than human comprehension and beyond human power, the ocean stirs only at the beckoning of the lunar, er wait it doesn't anymore. But it is still vaster than human comprehension and beyond human power.
But it just doesn't stir at all.
Just sits there, flat as a pancake.
Still not moving.
Just reflecting the sunlight.
No waves at all.
No seagulls either.
Man, is this scene boring or what!
The vast and timeless expanse is abruptly broken as water surges upward. The frothing white column hangs a moment before sliding back down to rejoin the aquatic expanse below. Thus revealed, the blond form of android Eighteen hovered with a look of annoyance. Reaching under the collar of her soaked white shirt, she fumbles around her chest a moment. Beneath the white fabric made shear with water and between the opening of her denim vest, something other than her own hand moved and pressed darkly against the inside of her shirt. Beneath her shirt, knuckles pressed out between her breasts. Withdrawing her hand she looked down at the small scaly form that had so recently trespassed in an area she allowed only one living creature access to. And HE had hair. Dismissively, she tossed the piscine form over her shoulder and back into its watery home.
Raising her other hand to her face, she opened it and stared into the pale orange depths of the sphere resting on her palm. 'The two star, one more and I can return to Capsule Corp', she thought. She had taken this trio of Dragonballs because they were deemed most difficult and she was the strongest of those willing to fetch them. One simply floating on the surface, one wedged among rocks on the ocean floor 'and the last' she thought as she checked the Dragon Radar 'near the shore over there'. Returning the Radar to her left pocket and securing the new ball with the other in her right pocket, she sped off in the direction of the last Dragonball.
***********************************************************************
Yamcha was his name. Once a desert bandit, rival for the Dragonballs. Now, a friend.
Once one of Earth's strongest warriors. Now eclipsed by the others' rising power.
He had fought. He had died. He had found fame. He had found a broken heart.
But never had he found a Dragonball in a pile of manure. He stood before the massive heap that towered more than twice his height. The expression of disbelief plastered on his face moved as he alternated gawking at the massive, wet, fly-infested mountain and the round screen in his hand that was telling him that the object of his quest was right in front of him.
'Why me?'
************************************************************************
Snow covered the land, blurring trees, hills, and houses into a single radiant plain. Above sped an orange Gi clad Krillen, surrounded by a white aura of Ki that trailed off behind. Abruptly he dropped, plunging to the ground headfirst faster than gravity would allow. Mere inches above the snow, the glowing aura cut off, dropping Krillen feet first to the snow. Unfortunately he kept going, as the loose material compacting as he sank. Ankle, knee, then hip deep he sank into the powdery white snow.
"Brrrrrr!" Krillen shivered and clasped his arms to his chest. One burst of Ki later and he was hovering inches above a crater in the snow with his teeth chattering. 'I guess I should've dressed warmer, but at least my head is warm.'
Insulated by his Ki, his shivering slowly stopped and he could inspect the Dragon Radar. After a few clicks he looked up and sped into the distance leaving a furrow in the snow behind him.
As he sped along, a brilliant white cone crept up from below the horizon. Closing in, it resolved itself into a huge evergreen so laden with snow that not one needle of green showed and the branches hung low. Krillen slowed and stopped, hovering before the monolithic plant. Awed, he craned his neck to stare at the craggy white structure stretching off into the sky.
Beneath the sagging branches, pitch black shadows were pierced by dappled patches of weak light that had wound their way through the thick snow. In the depths, deeper shadows moved. As they passed through into the twilight illumination their eyes gleamed hungrily. When they stilled, more than a dozen pairs of eyes glowed dully out at the small morsel that hung just above the snow. The foremost pair moved again, advancing low to the ground, until it reached the edge of the tree's shadow.
Seeing movement, Krillen looked down in time to see the massive white wolf leaping at him. Surprised by the attack, he found himself flat on his back in the snow as the wolf strained its neck to force aside the hand that held it's muzzle away from the hot blood and tender flesh that it hungered for. Sharp claws tore and hot breath brought the thick scent of rotten meat wafting into Krillen's . . . whatever. Drawing back a leg, he kicked, hurtling the wolf back into the shadowed depths. As one the dull thump and the sharp crack echoed out. Following them, a dull rumble shook the tree and patches of snow fell, bringing forth yelps of surprise as the massed pack fled the shelter turned danger.
Krillen picked himself up and watched as the huge tree's shaking faded, leaving a scattering of mirror bright specks slowly drifting down. He sighed in relief that the whole tree hadn't come down. Charging his aura again he drifted above the snow into the darkness. Softly lit by Ki-glow, the dead wolf lay with its back bent against the tree trunk. Consulting the radar again, he frowned and looked suspiciously at the corpse.
*********************************************************************
The golden corona proceeded sedately across the sky, not even breaking Mach one. Beneath the violent turbulence of Ki borne wind, not a breeze touched the upswept crest of hair on the man responsible, nor did it chill the blue material that had long since dried the sweat of that mornings training. Beneath the hair, however, his thoughts were anything but still.
'How much further can I sink, the mighty Prince of all Saiyans reduced to hauling this sickly wisp of a girl around.' Memories came unbidden at the thought. Himself, on his third, no fourth purging mission. The treelike natives had been skilled bioengineers, and concealed within their forest had developed a potent virus as he, Nappa, and Raditz had to search them down one by one. They could not target the virus to the Saiyans, instead increasing its virulence and lethality beyond anything in nature.
The world was dead in a week.
Only a dozen treatments in a rejuvenation tank had kept him from joining it. Even before he recovered, he had thrown himself into his training with manic abandon, determined never to be helpless again and more important, to show Freeza that he was not helpless. His efforts doubled his time in the tank.
Freeza never said anything.
A quiet groan drew his attention to the white wrapped bundle in his arms. A tiny pang of anger and guilt followed the realization that a shudder had escaped his iron control and disturbed the girl.
'Videl Satan' he thought to himself 'daughter of that fool Hercule as hard as it is to believe.'
Looking at her face almost brought another shudder, he had seen corpses that looked better. Dozens of tiny sores had opened around her lips, nose, and eyes. It looked like more blood was on her face than in it, and her eyes had turned to a mottled black and red with barely a trace of the whites anymore. And most horrifying, as dead as she looked, she lived.
He felt her Ki, barely there but still fighting, clawing at anything to hold. Even half trained, she could still fight the approach of death.
Then it snapped, her struggles turned to wild thrashing though the muscles had almost liquefied and her Ki was almost undetectable.
"Damnit!" Vegeta swore as he plunged to the ground. The golden comet streaked down, bursting on impact to leave Vegeta kneeling on the ground laying Videl's twitching body in the shallow crater.
"Damnit girl, you're not dying like this!" he snarled even as he planned his attack. He was no doctor, no healer, but he was a master of Ki and more important Prince of all Saiyans. "A Saiyan dies in battle, not to some puny bug!" he growled even as he began his assault, a direct assault naturally. He tore the cloth, forcing aside the comparison of Videl to a corpse, and placed his hands on her chest. Through the thin shirt he felt, as he had heard, her erratic heartbeat. Closing his eyes, he focused all his attention on the girl's Ki.
And poured his own into it.
It shuddered, disrupted by the burning flow of raw life that was, by Vegeta's standards, a bare trickle.
Had Videl fled from the pain, had she sought peace, she would have died, maybe even been injured in spirit.
As if our heroine could do that.
For one long moment, surprisingly long if you factor in the fact that energy and matter can cause time to slow as the forces approach light speed. . . , Vegeta struggled to control himself, directing the flow of Ki so as not to injure the girl.
Then he was blind, as her Ki slipped past the threshold of his senses, but still he worked ignoring the sweat beginning to bead on his forehead.
In a burst that stung his Ki sense like a sudden light hurts eyes straining in the dark, Videl lived. And now it was even more of a struggle to control the flow after seeing that she could take it. He filled her broken body until it could take no more.
Cutting off the flow of Ki, he examined the aura before him. At first it seemed stagnant, like the Ki absorbed in inanimate objects, only far more than a lifeless object could hold. Even as he examined it, he felt the level dropping, leaking away.
Then it rippled.
Deeper currents took hold of the Ki he had fed into Videl and made it hers, flowing in the complex cycles that marked life. Specifically the low flow rate patterns that marked Human dreaming but with extra surges that seemed familiar somehow.
Vegeta's eyes popped open and he looked at the girl laying before him. She seemed almost relaxed now, her breathing shallow but even. Gathering Videl in his arms, he rose. And staggered dizzy as spots filled his vision.
'What am I DOING, caring for this girl?', he silently demanded himself.
'A prince's duty is to his people.'
'I have no people, only my pride and my strength' he argued even as images danced across the edge of his awareness. Bulma, Trunks, the others who called themselves the Z fighters. Even as he became aware of them, another joined, Videl.
'My . . . people?' he thought and mouthed silently as the dazed expression started to fade into understanding. 'But they do not bow, do not call me Prince!'
'They respect you, they trust you, would you loose what is there for a hollow symbol?'
The last of the dizziness faded as Vegeta's face broke into a delighted yet nasty grin. 'MY people.' He looked down at the sleeping girl in his arms and almost laughed, "come girl, we have a wish to make." 'And I can barely wait to see the looks on their faces.'
His aura flared into existence as he leapt into the air, speeding toward the gathering powers ahead.
Behind him, the forest was still once more. A solitary butterfly fluttered blue wings before coming to land above the crater edge.
Three feet above the crater edge.
A patch of air blurred and warped, suffused with a red tint that grew and resolved into a red shrouded figure standing behind where Vegeta had knelt. It raised a white gloved hand, butterfly still perched on top of the middle knuckle.
"Cause any storms today?" the slightly echoing voice asked the insect, amusement and sorrow clear.
The butterfly flapped its wings once and was still.
With a metallic sigh she spoke as if each word was a tear "last time I . . . she could not know how delicate history is."
She paused, still save for the gentle flapping of butterfly wings. "Knowing what to do only makes it harder." With a twitch, she sent the butterfly away, watching as it spiraled higher and higher in the sky, unperturbed by the whispers below.
"I'm sorry Videl."
"I'm sorry Vegeta-sensi."
The widening spirals of the butterfly were interupted as a bird swooped down to make a meal of the hapless insect. If the figure saw or cared whether the butterfly escaped or not, she gave no sign of it.
The stillness grew more profound as the blue sky darkened to black and the sun was blotted from sight.
The stillness grew as the animals, the plants, and the elements themselves felt was to come.
The stillness broke as lightning burst UP into the sky, twisting and coiling as yellow energy resolved into green scales. The dragon spoke.
Even with the distance, Shenron's voice carried vast power. No need to hear the words, she knew what the dragon said.
The dragon waited and then spoke with a voice that put thunder and earthquakes to shame.
"YOUR WISH IS GRANTED!"
The ocean, stretching from horizon to horizon without so much as a stone in sight. Vaster than human comprehension and beyond human power, the ocean stirs only at the beckoning of the lunar, er wait it doesn't anymore. But it is still vaster than human comprehension and beyond human power.
But it just doesn't stir at all.
Just sits there, flat as a pancake.
Still not moving.
Just reflecting the sunlight.
No waves at all.
No seagulls either.
Man, is this scene boring or what!
The vast and timeless expanse is abruptly broken as water surges upward. The frothing white column hangs a moment before sliding back down to rejoin the aquatic expanse below. Thus revealed, the blond form of android Eighteen hovered with a look of annoyance. Reaching under the collar of her soaked white shirt, she fumbles around her chest a moment. Beneath the white fabric made shear with water and between the opening of her denim vest, something other than her own hand moved and pressed darkly against the inside of her shirt. Beneath her shirt, knuckles pressed out between her breasts. Withdrawing her hand she looked down at the small scaly form that had so recently trespassed in an area she allowed only one living creature access to. And HE had hair. Dismissively, she tossed the piscine form over her shoulder and back into its watery home.
Raising her other hand to her face, she opened it and stared into the pale orange depths of the sphere resting on her palm. 'The two star, one more and I can return to Capsule Corp', she thought. She had taken this trio of Dragonballs because they were deemed most difficult and she was the strongest of those willing to fetch them. One simply floating on the surface, one wedged among rocks on the ocean floor 'and the last' she thought as she checked the Dragon Radar 'near the shore over there'. Returning the Radar to her left pocket and securing the new ball with the other in her right pocket, she sped off in the direction of the last Dragonball.
***********************************************************************
Yamcha was his name. Once a desert bandit, rival for the Dragonballs. Now, a friend.
Once one of Earth's strongest warriors. Now eclipsed by the others' rising power.
He had fought. He had died. He had found fame. He had found a broken heart.
But never had he found a Dragonball in a pile of manure. He stood before the massive heap that towered more than twice his height. The expression of disbelief plastered on his face moved as he alternated gawking at the massive, wet, fly-infested mountain and the round screen in his hand that was telling him that the object of his quest was right in front of him.
'Why me?'
************************************************************************
Snow covered the land, blurring trees, hills, and houses into a single radiant plain. Above sped an orange Gi clad Krillen, surrounded by a white aura of Ki that trailed off behind. Abruptly he dropped, plunging to the ground headfirst faster than gravity would allow. Mere inches above the snow, the glowing aura cut off, dropping Krillen feet first to the snow. Unfortunately he kept going, as the loose material compacting as he sank. Ankle, knee, then hip deep he sank into the powdery white snow.
"Brrrrrr!" Krillen shivered and clasped his arms to his chest. One burst of Ki later and he was hovering inches above a crater in the snow with his teeth chattering. 'I guess I should've dressed warmer, but at least my head is warm.'
Insulated by his Ki, his shivering slowly stopped and he could inspect the Dragon Radar. After a few clicks he looked up and sped into the distance leaving a furrow in the snow behind him.
As he sped along, a brilliant white cone crept up from below the horizon. Closing in, it resolved itself into a huge evergreen so laden with snow that not one needle of green showed and the branches hung low. Krillen slowed and stopped, hovering before the monolithic plant. Awed, he craned his neck to stare at the craggy white structure stretching off into the sky.
Beneath the sagging branches, pitch black shadows were pierced by dappled patches of weak light that had wound their way through the thick snow. In the depths, deeper shadows moved. As they passed through into the twilight illumination their eyes gleamed hungrily. When they stilled, more than a dozen pairs of eyes glowed dully out at the small morsel that hung just above the snow. The foremost pair moved again, advancing low to the ground, until it reached the edge of the tree's shadow.
Seeing movement, Krillen looked down in time to see the massive white wolf leaping at him. Surprised by the attack, he found himself flat on his back in the snow as the wolf strained its neck to force aside the hand that held it's muzzle away from the hot blood and tender flesh that it hungered for. Sharp claws tore and hot breath brought the thick scent of rotten meat wafting into Krillen's . . . whatever. Drawing back a leg, he kicked, hurtling the wolf back into the shadowed depths. As one the dull thump and the sharp crack echoed out. Following them, a dull rumble shook the tree and patches of snow fell, bringing forth yelps of surprise as the massed pack fled the shelter turned danger.
Krillen picked himself up and watched as the huge tree's shaking faded, leaving a scattering of mirror bright specks slowly drifting down. He sighed in relief that the whole tree hadn't come down. Charging his aura again he drifted above the snow into the darkness. Softly lit by Ki-glow, the dead wolf lay with its back bent against the tree trunk. Consulting the radar again, he frowned and looked suspiciously at the corpse.
*********************************************************************
The golden corona proceeded sedately across the sky, not even breaking Mach one. Beneath the violent turbulence of Ki borne wind, not a breeze touched the upswept crest of hair on the man responsible, nor did it chill the blue material that had long since dried the sweat of that mornings training. Beneath the hair, however, his thoughts were anything but still.
'How much further can I sink, the mighty Prince of all Saiyans reduced to hauling this sickly wisp of a girl around.' Memories came unbidden at the thought. Himself, on his third, no fourth purging mission. The treelike natives had been skilled bioengineers, and concealed within their forest had developed a potent virus as he, Nappa, and Raditz had to search them down one by one. They could not target the virus to the Saiyans, instead increasing its virulence and lethality beyond anything in nature.
The world was dead in a week.
Only a dozen treatments in a rejuvenation tank had kept him from joining it. Even before he recovered, he had thrown himself into his training with manic abandon, determined never to be helpless again and more important, to show Freeza that he was not helpless. His efforts doubled his time in the tank.
Freeza never said anything.
A quiet groan drew his attention to the white wrapped bundle in his arms. A tiny pang of anger and guilt followed the realization that a shudder had escaped his iron control and disturbed the girl.
'Videl Satan' he thought to himself 'daughter of that fool Hercule as hard as it is to believe.'
Looking at her face almost brought another shudder, he had seen corpses that looked better. Dozens of tiny sores had opened around her lips, nose, and eyes. It looked like more blood was on her face than in it, and her eyes had turned to a mottled black and red with barely a trace of the whites anymore. And most horrifying, as dead as she looked, she lived.
He felt her Ki, barely there but still fighting, clawing at anything to hold. Even half trained, she could still fight the approach of death.
Then it snapped, her struggles turned to wild thrashing though the muscles had almost liquefied and her Ki was almost undetectable.
"Damnit!" Vegeta swore as he plunged to the ground. The golden comet streaked down, bursting on impact to leave Vegeta kneeling on the ground laying Videl's twitching body in the shallow crater.
"Damnit girl, you're not dying like this!" he snarled even as he planned his attack. He was no doctor, no healer, but he was a master of Ki and more important Prince of all Saiyans. "A Saiyan dies in battle, not to some puny bug!" he growled even as he began his assault, a direct assault naturally. He tore the cloth, forcing aside the comparison of Videl to a corpse, and placed his hands on her chest. Through the thin shirt he felt, as he had heard, her erratic heartbeat. Closing his eyes, he focused all his attention on the girl's Ki.
And poured his own into it.
It shuddered, disrupted by the burning flow of raw life that was, by Vegeta's standards, a bare trickle.
Had Videl fled from the pain, had she sought peace, she would have died, maybe even been injured in spirit.
As if our heroine could do that.
For one long moment, surprisingly long if you factor in the fact that energy and matter can cause time to slow as the forces approach light speed. . . , Vegeta struggled to control himself, directing the flow of Ki so as not to injure the girl.
Then he was blind, as her Ki slipped past the threshold of his senses, but still he worked ignoring the sweat beginning to bead on his forehead.
In a burst that stung his Ki sense like a sudden light hurts eyes straining in the dark, Videl lived. And now it was even more of a struggle to control the flow after seeing that she could take it. He filled her broken body until it could take no more.
Cutting off the flow of Ki, he examined the aura before him. At first it seemed stagnant, like the Ki absorbed in inanimate objects, only far more than a lifeless object could hold. Even as he examined it, he felt the level dropping, leaking away.
Then it rippled.
Deeper currents took hold of the Ki he had fed into Videl and made it hers, flowing in the complex cycles that marked life. Specifically the low flow rate patterns that marked Human dreaming but with extra surges that seemed familiar somehow.
Vegeta's eyes popped open and he looked at the girl laying before him. She seemed almost relaxed now, her breathing shallow but even. Gathering Videl in his arms, he rose. And staggered dizzy as spots filled his vision.
'What am I DOING, caring for this girl?', he silently demanded himself.
'A prince's duty is to his people.'
'I have no people, only my pride and my strength' he argued even as images danced across the edge of his awareness. Bulma, Trunks, the others who called themselves the Z fighters. Even as he became aware of them, another joined, Videl.
'My . . . people?' he thought and mouthed silently as the dazed expression started to fade into understanding. 'But they do not bow, do not call me Prince!'
'They respect you, they trust you, would you loose what is there for a hollow symbol?'
The last of the dizziness faded as Vegeta's face broke into a delighted yet nasty grin. 'MY people.' He looked down at the sleeping girl in his arms and almost laughed, "come girl, we have a wish to make." 'And I can barely wait to see the looks on their faces.'
His aura flared into existence as he leapt into the air, speeding toward the gathering powers ahead.
Behind him, the forest was still once more. A solitary butterfly fluttered blue wings before coming to land above the crater edge.
Three feet above the crater edge.
A patch of air blurred and warped, suffused with a red tint that grew and resolved into a red shrouded figure standing behind where Vegeta had knelt. It raised a white gloved hand, butterfly still perched on top of the middle knuckle.
"Cause any storms today?" the slightly echoing voice asked the insect, amusement and sorrow clear.
The butterfly flapped its wings once and was still.
With a metallic sigh she spoke as if each word was a tear "last time I . . . she could not know how delicate history is."
She paused, still save for the gentle flapping of butterfly wings. "Knowing what to do only makes it harder." With a twitch, she sent the butterfly away, watching as it spiraled higher and higher in the sky, unperturbed by the whispers below.
"I'm sorry Videl."
"I'm sorry Vegeta-sensi."
The widening spirals of the butterfly were interupted as a bird swooped down to make a meal of the hapless insect. If the figure saw or cared whether the butterfly escaped or not, she gave no sign of it.
The stillness grew more profound as the blue sky darkened to black and the sun was blotted from sight.
The stillness grew as the animals, the plants, and the elements themselves felt was to come.
The stillness broke as lightning burst UP into the sky, twisting and coiling as yellow energy resolved into green scales. The dragon spoke.
Even with the distance, Shenron's voice carried vast power. No need to hear the words, she knew what the dragon said.
The dragon waited and then spoke with a voice that put thunder and earthquakes to shame.
"YOUR WISH IS GRANTED!"