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Closer to the Edge
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Morning, the Capsule Corps Lab...
Yamcha stood in front of the newly rebuilt containment unit, nervously tightening his glove. "Bulma, are you sure this is... Necessary?" Yamcha was now clad a what appeared to be a padded white bodysuit. It covered everything below his jaw line, and was laced with various seams, straps and patches.
"Of course I am, Yamcha," replied Bulma, not looking up from the schematics she was consulting. "Do you really think I'd go through the trouble of putting that outfit together if I wasn't?"
"What is Yamcha going to do, again?" Asked an apprehensive Puar.
Yamcha looked over at his friend. "Uh, as far as I can tell, I'm going to go into the stasis tube, er, vat, and try to get a blood sample from the Saiyan. That about right?"
"Not entirely," corrected Dende. "We know the virus is 'activated' when the host dies, but we're not sure if simply removing the virus from the host will do the same. Its a risk we'd rather not take, but we do need to examine the virus directly. Thus, Bulma and her father have concocted this," Dende pointed to a small mess of wires and machinery spread across the table, "which will allow us to examine a blood sample, without removing it from the Saiyan."
Yamcha frowned. "And it does that... How?"
Dende picked up the device, more than happy to explain the process. "The device has two needles. One here, and one here." Dende indicated a pair pinpricks coming out of a small metallic disk. "You attach this disk to the Saiyan's wrist, so that both needles penetrate the artery. The first needle draws blood out of the vessel. From there, it is transferred through these micro tubes, which are both insulated and heated, and contains its own temperature gauge and micro computer to keep the blood at the right temperature--"
"Wait," interrupted Yamcha. "Isn't the Saiyan supposed to be frozen solid? I thought that was the whole point of submersing her in liquid Nitrogen!"
"No," replied Doctor Briefs, who was next to Bulma, working on what appeared to be a modified gas mask. "Not entirely. As we figured out earlier, the energy the virus siphons into the girl keeps her from freezing entirely. We're still recording some blood movement, but its well below what even a Saiyan needs to be conscious."
"Oh," Yamcha deadpanned.
"As I was saying," Dende cheerfully continued, "the blood sample is kept at a temperature comparable to when it was in the girl. From there, the blood flows through this, which performs the tests we need. After that, the blood gets sent back through this wire, and it reinjected back into the bloodstream, through the second needle." Dende smirked. "That's what it does, but if you want to know how it does all that, you'll have to ask Bulma."
"That's okay," responded Yamcha, drolly, "I really don't care at this point..."
"That's good," commented Bulma, as she jotted something down on the schematics. "'Cause we really don't have time to explain that to you." Yamcha scowled, remembering with renewed clarity why he and Bulma never made it together. "Daddy, are you about ready with Yamcha's mask?"
"Almost," replied the doctor. A few moments and minor spot welds later, Doctor Briefs stood up. "There. Be careful with the cords," he advised as he handed the mask to Yamcha.
Yamcha took the mask with a sigh. "You have no idea how comforting that sounds..."
"Can the sarcasm, Yamcha," cut in Bulma. "We've got to get this started."
Yamcha sighed and slipped the mask over his face. After a few moments of adjusting it and tightening various straps, Yamcha nodded. "Okay, lets go..."
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Later, around a newly rewired console...
"Yamcha," Bulma complained into the headset she was wearing, "is there any chance you could hurry it up in there?"
Dende, who was wearing a headset of his own, looked up at this. "Please, Bulma, don't antagonize him. I'm sure this is hard enough on Yamcha as it is."
"...Damn straight it is..." Came Yamcha's muffled and static-filled reply. "...You try swimming in Nitrogen sometime... ...And we'll see how you like it..." The speaker was silent for another moment. "...Oh, and just so you know... ...The second light just went dead..."
Dende's jaw tightened. "There are only three lights on Yamcha's headpiece, aren't there."
"I believe so," responded Doctor Briefs. "Which means he's down to his last light..."
"Suck it up, Yamcha," Bulma scolded. "Complaining won't get you out of there any sooner.
Yamcha's reply was inaudible over the static. After a moment of silence Yamcha spoke up again. "...Okay... ...The device is attached..."
"Aw-right!" Cried Bulma. "I'm starting it up now." With that, Bulma devoted her entire attention to the console in front of her. Dende watched her, a triumphant smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Until Yamcha spoke again.
"...Damn..." He mumbled. "...Cold in here..."
Reflexively, Dende placed his hand on his headset. "I know it is, Yamcha. But that can't be helped. Just stay calm, and don't power up. We're already getting the readings we need. We'll have you out of there in ten minutes, tops."
There was a pause before Yamcha responded. But during that time, Dende swore he could hear Yamcha's breathing over the static. "...Hate to beak it to you... ...But I already am... ...Be dead already if I weren't..." Dende caught his breath at this, and cast a nervous glance towards Bulma. Bulma, however was still immersed in her console. "...Guess that's what we get... ...For putting this together in one night..."
Dende exhaled, relieved that Yamcha was still well enough to crack a joke. "Okay, just... Be careful in there..."
"...Sure..." This time, Dende was positive he could hear Yamcha's labored breathing. "...Will do..."
Dende put his hand over the headset's mouthpiece and turned to Bulma. "Is there any chance we can hurry this up? Yamcha's suit isn't working!"
Bulma glanced down at the Namek. "You're kidding."
"No. Yamcha has already been forced to power up to stay warm."
Bulma exhaled in annoyance. "The heating pack must not be working right. I was worried those coils might not have enough resistance in them..." Bulma trailed off, looking over her console once more. "Okay..." After tapping a few buttons she looked back at Dende. "I've canceled the more in depth tests. The device will finish what it's running now, and then Yamcha can pull out. Then while Dende and I go over the results, Dad can rewire Yamcha's suit. Sound good?"
Dende nodded.
Doctor Briefs likewise nodded, stroking his beard as he did. "So the heating coils failed. I'll go see if we have any better models in the garage." With that, the Doctor got up to leave.
Dende smiled, and released the mouthpiece. "Good news, Yamcha. You can get out of there in..."
"Less than two minutes." Finished Bulma. "As soon as I give the signal, you can disengage the device and get out of there."
"Couldn't we leave it on the girl?" Dende suddenly prompted. "Then keep running the tests, and just send Yamcha back in to retrieve it?"
Bulma shook her head. "Too risky. That's still just a beta-unit. We need to have someone standing by in case it malfunctions." Bulma glanced back at her console and nodded to herself. "Yamcha," she addressed through the headset, "the tests are done. All blood is back in the Saiyan. You can get out of there anytime."
Dende smiled, anticipating some kind of witty retort.
It didn't come.
"Yamcha?" Bulma's voice held a note of concern to it. "Yamcha, retrieve the device and get out of there." Nothing could be discerned through the static. "Yamcha, do you copy?"
Both Dende and Bulma jumped as a loud bang reverberated through the room.
Unnerved, Bulma pressed her headset closer to her head. "Yamcha, what was that?"
The room reverberated again.
"Bulma," came Dende's quiet voice. "I don't think he's listening..."
Bulma looked up, and followed Dende's gaze to the new stasis unit. There were two fist sized dents protruding from the side. As her eyes widened in horror, a third one formed. Then a forth.
Deliberately, with his eyes never leaving the vat, Dende removed his headset and grasped his staff. "Get behind me, Bulma," he quietly ordered.
For some reason, Bulma couldn't keep her voice from shaking. "But... What's he... Why..."
Dende was not given the opportunity to respond. Five fingers punctured the side of the vat, and the entire unit disintegrated with an explosion of shrapnel and pressurized Nitrogen. As the debris splashed across his ki shield, Dende's jaw tightened. He didn't see any way for this to end well.
Bulma looked up tentatively. "Ya... Yamcha?" Hearing no response, Bulma backed away. In front of her, Dende fell into a defensive stance. As they watched, a mist from the evaporating nitrogen filled the room. From the fog, a low growling could be heard.
"Yamcha," Dende called out, almost certain his words would be ignored, "whatever you're doing... Please stop." Power gathered a the tip of Dende's staff.
In response, a power rose in the center of the room, driving the fog away. In spite of herself, Bulma gasped. Still clad in his white isolation suit, Yamcha stood next to a man sized hole in the nitrogen vat. He was standing ankle deep in liquid nitrogen, and seemed to have an unnatural glow around him. Yet most disturbing was his posture. He was standing upright, yet his neck and shoulders seemed hunched down, giving him an almost feral look.
"Bulma," Dende solemnly commanded, "run."
Yamcha's head turned to face the duo. A low rumble escaped his throat, and Yamcha took a step forward.
Dende raised his staff defensibly. "Bulma!"
Despite Dende's command, Bulma remained rooted to the spot. "Yamcha... Wh... Why did you..."
Yamcha continued his advance, remaining hunched over. As he came closer, a hand grasped the tip of his breather, and ripped the mask off.
"No..."
"Gryeeeh--hgngngngn!" With fangs glistening in the reflected light, the beast that was once Yamcha snarled at his prey...
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