Undiscovered Territory
CHAPTER TEN: Edge of the Hurricane
The first strike was made in a matter of hours.
After a long search, one of the crews had finally managed to locate a village. They'd hovered high above it for a time, studying the lay of the land and determining a plan of attack. These artifacts that the commander was after were reputed to be of great importance to the species, and thus the logical striking target would be somewhere near the centre of the settlement. Carefully, furtively, they'd descended a little to survey this area better. When they'd caught sight of a rather large building, or what passed for one here, in almost the exact middle of the settlement, that was all they had needed.
Stealth was more the style of these crews, but a few did have somewhat more advanced combat training. And stealth was hardly a thing that they could pull off in this kind of situation. Thus the manoeuvre was best performed quickly and bluntly.
Propelling themselves downward faster than a fall, they one by one smashed their feet through the building's hard roof. Shards of it rained down on their heads, like pieces of a shattered snail shell. This was an especially appropriate description, as the house had looked like some enormous shell from the start.
Light poured in from the hole in the roof, making the rest of the room seem dark in comparison. And as this light poured, shouts rang out from the nearby natives, alerting them to the threat. Those of the crew more trained in combat took to guarding the doors, striking down any native that dared try to enter. Those not similarly trained began their search for the mystical artifact.
Unperturbed, they walked, supremely confident in their comrades' ability to prevent any interference. Eyes cast about this room and into the next, which seemed almost dark as there was no hole in the roof here. And in that room, they found the object of their search.
Or they assumed so, at least; it seemed to fit the vague description that their commander had given them, that it would be some kind of spherical object. And indeed it was. Too large to fit in one hand, with a gentle sloping curve to it, the object was absolutely flawless in shape. It seemed to have its own particular light, a softly glowing orange, though this was not its only feature. Inside it, suspended by some unseen and unknown force, were six small red stars. Certainly, this had the look of a mystical object.
Only one of them ventured forward to touch it, finding it to be oddly warm against his skin. The object seemed to have no mass at all; if it were not for the warmth, he would not think that anything was in his hand.
He stared at it for a few seconds, marvelling, but then remembered his place and called over his shoulder, "We have it! Time to leave!"
With these words, he fired a bolt of ki at the ceiling, blowing a hole clean through. He nodded at his companions and they followed him as he leapt up through the hole, taking to the sky. A glance to his right told him that the more combat inclined members of the crew had taken the route through the original hole, some of them looking a little bloody, but otherwise none the worse for the wear.
Well. His crew had accomplished its goal. Idly, he wondered if the other crews had yet met with any success.
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His eyes closed in concentration, as was their habit when he drew upon his power. Straining, he reached for the healing influence, but found it much more difficult than usual. It was so much easier when he was touching living flesh; the power had a purpose, a destination. This time, it had only the former, as his hands were not touching anything.
But he managed it, finally, sending a small amount of the power into the air. He could sense the familiar aura surrounding his body, unstable from this new practice, yet there all the same. He took an extra few seconds to steady the power enough for his liking, then took a slow, tentative step forward.
And he took more steps, each one a little braver than the last. The only sensation upon his skin was the soft tingle of the healing aura and nothing else. An angry flash of light raided his closed eyes for a second, but brought no pain with it. A few steps after that flash, he allowed his healing aura to drop, and slowly opened his eyes.
Dende had never thought that he would be happy to see this room. It was the same one he and Scargo were imprisoned in, yes, but this time, he was standing right next to one of the tables.
Outside of the barrier.
A smile formed on his lips, a pure form of happiness that his plan had worked. As he'd somewhat expected, his healing aura, by its very nature, could also protect him from some measure of physical harm. Experimentally, he examined every spot where he had exposed skin, looking for any telltale burn marks. There were none. In fact, he felt great; this experience had invigorated him so much that he almost forgot about his injured shoulder, and the half-mended hole in his leg that still produced a noticeable limp.
He turned around, his eyes falling upon the slumbering form of Scargo. His brother looked so small and helpless in there, and this feeling was magnified by the fact that he would not be able to pass through the barrier in the same manner. Dende's powers flowed into the body of the one he touched, not around it. So while he could heal, he could not form a protective shield around anyone but himself.
This thought did not do much to discourage him, however. There were other ways to get Scargo out of there.
He cast his eyes upward and to his left, to the wall beside their holding area. There in all its foreign technological glory was the control pad for the barrier. This was the way to free his bother, if he could just figure out how to use it.
Nervously, Dende glanced toward the door, keeping his eyes there for several seconds. He supposed that there was not much risk of anyone coming in here any time too soon, as it had not been long since Doctor Gneiss had left. Still, it was prudent to check for such things.
Since none of the fears that Dende harboured were validated, he turned back to the control pad, floating up a few feet into the air so that he could reach it. Numerous neatly lined buttons greeted his eyes, decorated with strange symbols that were no doubt letters in some foreign language. Above them, a small rectangular screen glowed a faint yellow. Dende knew little about machines, but he assumed that this particular detail was the indicator for the barrier being armed.
He glanced once again back at the door, just to make sure that nobody was coming, then hesitantly raised his index finger to the keypad. At random, he typed in various symbols, then pressed a small green button that was in the bottom corner. He'd spent a little time watching Bulma back on Earth, and learned that such things on a computer usually indicated a means by which to confirm information.
The yellow light flashed red for a few seconds, and then returned to its original state. Dende frowned. Obviously, that was not the correct code. Being as he did not understand the language that was written on these buttons, this could take quite a while. It would have taken quite a while even if he had understood it. Codes were annoying that way.
Still, this was the only way that he could think of to free his brother. And so he continued to float there in front of the device, punching in failed code after failed code, hoping hard that he would eventually stumble upon the correct one.
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Doctor Gneiss switched on the audio feed to her computer, and it indicated its readiness by flashing the words onto the screen. With no hesitation – for there was never any hesitation in her; it was not in her nature – she began to relay her findings.
"In comparing the blood samples from both subjects, I have come upon striking differences in its composition. While the second has a relatively high number of disease and injury-fighting organisms within his blood, it may well be standard in a species which had been previously noted for powerful regenerative capabilities. However, the first subject . . ."
Uncharacteristically, she let her voice trail off here. Few things amazed her so much that she lost the ability to form words, even for a few seconds. It was an experience that she both relished and hated with a passion.
But she was a professional and quickly regained her voice, continuing, " . . . The first subject's rating in this area was substantially higher. Near to the top of the currently recorded scale. Disparity this large between two members of the same species has never been recorded. Further study will be conducted on this subject to determine the cause of this abnormally high count."
She paused again, wondering. That first child, the older one, certainly was quite the specimen. Her studies had already yielded some interesting results on him. Not that the results for the younger one were not intriguing in their own way, but they just could not compare. Her first subject of the two was turning out to be the most fascinating one that she'd had the pleasure of working on in years.
"X-ray scans show no significant differences in bone structure. The second subject's skeleton was completely intact, while the first one's showed some sign of injury, no doubt incurred just prior to its arrival into the laboratory. Small fractures in the left shoulder, and a small hole in the left femur."
There was another thing intriguing about her first subject right there. A hole clear through the bone in one leg, and yet there had been no sign at all of a surface injury. Wounds like that did not just happen. For there to be a clear shot through the bone, the outside of the limb must surely have been punctured.
She made a note of this in her file. "Skin above this hole was entirely unbroken, indicating that perhaps the flesh heals at a very rapid rate while bone takes a generally accepted as normal healing time. This is uncertain, however, and bears more detailed study."
Once more, she paused, but this time in glee rather than astonishment. A smile stretched her thin lips as she contemplated what those detailed studies would entail. How wonderful it was to be investigating a hardly investigated species. The child would certainly have to be sedated for the following tests, as a matter of necessity this time rather than ease. Detailed scans tended to be very hard on the body enduring them, and the subjects tended to thrash uncontrollably, screaming out in pain. The screaming was annoying, and the thrashing messed with the results.
"These studies will be performed starting tomorrow morning," she continued at last, fighting through her excitement well enough to keep her voice level. And it was even a fight to get herself to wait that long; the subject was recovered well enough to . . .
What had that child been doing, anyway? She'd gotten no coherent answer from him when she'd caught him touching the barrier and giving no reaction. There had always been one before, so why not then? Or perhaps he was merely getting better at hiding the pain? Perhaps her studies would give her the answer that the child could not.
"They will be performed tomorrow morning," she repeated, getting her mind back on track, "and will be continued throughout the day. Testing on subject two is suspended for at least one day. End audio link."
The computer quickly and silently complied with her request, the screen going dark. And she sat in her chair, hands tented. The reflection in the now black screen showed her lips pulled back in a full smile, and her solid blue eyes nearly glowing with delight.
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It had taken a while, but they had finally found a village. The search had been so frustrating for Basalt that he wished one of his underlings would have said something, so that he would have an excuse to blast him to bits. His patience had always been a weak fabric, and it quickly wore thin. But with no real reason to expel his anger, he had kept it reined in, so well that he was sure that his underlings had seen very little of it. Always best to appear in control.
And now he truly was in control, for finding the village had cooled his temper. Somewhere down there – he and his crew regarded the settlement from atop a high bluff – was that mystical object, that Dragonball. Once he found it, and the other crews brought the remaining balls to him, he would shatter that glass ceiling once and for all. His lips curved in a smile at the very thought. Only a matter of time.
"So what is the plan, commander?"
The question came from a spindly creature quite in contrast to all the others around him, who were at least well-muscled if not bulky. He was largely an unknown to Basalt, who mainly only remembered anything about the crew that he was supposed to accompany, and barely that. But Pumice, still being injured, had remained on the ship recovering, leaving this man called Shale to take his place in the patrol.
And while this question bordered upon inappropriate timing, Basalt was in a generous enough mood now to let it slide, and even give it an answer. "The artifact will probably be near the centre of the village; I've told you how important they are to these creatures. Make a quick strike at the centre and the locals won't have the time to know what hit them."
It really was a very simple strategy, to get in and out quickly. While he was confident that he could handle even whatever warriors might be present here, he didn't want that to be necessary. He had Dragonballs to collect; there was no time to go around destroying villages. At least not until afterward, where he might decide to do so as a small celebration. But one thing at a time.
"Move in." He uttered only these two words before he took to the air and heard the sounds of his crew following suit behind him. He flew quickly, at a great height until he and the others were directly above a large building near the centre of the settlement. No need to angle the flight downward and alert the locals too early to their presence.
With no hesitation on his part, or on the part of anyone with him, he plunged downward, crashing easily through the roof.
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Whelk's head snapped up at the sound of the crashing noise, and he silently cursed himself for being so unobservant. He could sense several new ki signatures in the village now, ones that he should have detected earlier. For a change, he had taken Limpet's advice and relaxed a little bit, thus ignoring his ki-sensing awareness for a short while. Whelk frowned; he was never listening to that lackadaisical Namek again. This whole mess regarding the children must have taken an unpleasant toll upon his mind for him to have done so in the first place.
He rushed to his feet, and headed toward the crash. He'd been on the edge of the village, doing a simple meditation, but being as this was one of the smaller villages on the planet, he did not have far to go. And he was not the only one hurrying toward the sound, as most of the other villagers had taken stride. Limpet was at his side almost immediately.
"What do you suppose that was?"
Normally, Whelk would have scolded him for asking yet another foolish question, but he did not have the time right now. So he just answered him straight out. "Whatever it is, I bet it's what is responsible for the disappearances of the children."
And that was what made this situation all the worse. If these creatures were beginning to attack the villages, then what did that mean for the fate of the children? He doubted the answer to that would be one that he liked.
But these thoughts fled from his mind as he neared the village centre. All thoughts did, in fact, and he nearly froze at what he saw.
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It was light inside the room, and would have been even had they not made a hole in the ceiling; such was the effect of a building having so many windows. While other members of the crew set to defending their position from the locals, Shale led a group of three that was to search for that artifact in which their commander had taken such a sudden and strange interest. Seeing nothing of the vague description that all of them had been given, he motioned for the rest of his group to follow him.
This next room was larger than the last, which must have been a mere antechamber. And within this room, resting on a pedestal at its very centre, was a large orange sphere. Without a doubt, this had to be what they were looking for.
"Easiest job I've had in quite a while, if I do say so myself," Shale said smugly, stepping forward to remove the oversized ball from its pedestal.
He never knew what hit him.
CHAPTER TEN: Edge of the Hurricane
The first strike was made in a matter of hours.
After a long search, one of the crews had finally managed to locate a village. They'd hovered high above it for a time, studying the lay of the land and determining a plan of attack. These artifacts that the commander was after were reputed to be of great importance to the species, and thus the logical striking target would be somewhere near the centre of the settlement. Carefully, furtively, they'd descended a little to survey this area better. When they'd caught sight of a rather large building, or what passed for one here, in almost the exact middle of the settlement, that was all they had needed.
Stealth was more the style of these crews, but a few did have somewhat more advanced combat training. And stealth was hardly a thing that they could pull off in this kind of situation. Thus the manoeuvre was best performed quickly and bluntly.
Propelling themselves downward faster than a fall, they one by one smashed their feet through the building's hard roof. Shards of it rained down on their heads, like pieces of a shattered snail shell. This was an especially appropriate description, as the house had looked like some enormous shell from the start.
Light poured in from the hole in the roof, making the rest of the room seem dark in comparison. And as this light poured, shouts rang out from the nearby natives, alerting them to the threat. Those of the crew more trained in combat took to guarding the doors, striking down any native that dared try to enter. Those not similarly trained began their search for the mystical artifact.
Unperturbed, they walked, supremely confident in their comrades' ability to prevent any interference. Eyes cast about this room and into the next, which seemed almost dark as there was no hole in the roof here. And in that room, they found the object of their search.
Or they assumed so, at least; it seemed to fit the vague description that their commander had given them, that it would be some kind of spherical object. And indeed it was. Too large to fit in one hand, with a gentle sloping curve to it, the object was absolutely flawless in shape. It seemed to have its own particular light, a softly glowing orange, though this was not its only feature. Inside it, suspended by some unseen and unknown force, were six small red stars. Certainly, this had the look of a mystical object.
Only one of them ventured forward to touch it, finding it to be oddly warm against his skin. The object seemed to have no mass at all; if it were not for the warmth, he would not think that anything was in his hand.
He stared at it for a few seconds, marvelling, but then remembered his place and called over his shoulder, "We have it! Time to leave!"
With these words, he fired a bolt of ki at the ceiling, blowing a hole clean through. He nodded at his companions and they followed him as he leapt up through the hole, taking to the sky. A glance to his right told him that the more combat inclined members of the crew had taken the route through the original hole, some of them looking a little bloody, but otherwise none the worse for the wear.
Well. His crew had accomplished its goal. Idly, he wondered if the other crews had yet met with any success.
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His eyes closed in concentration, as was their habit when he drew upon his power. Straining, he reached for the healing influence, but found it much more difficult than usual. It was so much easier when he was touching living flesh; the power had a purpose, a destination. This time, it had only the former, as his hands were not touching anything.
But he managed it, finally, sending a small amount of the power into the air. He could sense the familiar aura surrounding his body, unstable from this new practice, yet there all the same. He took an extra few seconds to steady the power enough for his liking, then took a slow, tentative step forward.
And he took more steps, each one a little braver than the last. The only sensation upon his skin was the soft tingle of the healing aura and nothing else. An angry flash of light raided his closed eyes for a second, but brought no pain with it. A few steps after that flash, he allowed his healing aura to drop, and slowly opened his eyes.
Dende had never thought that he would be happy to see this room. It was the same one he and Scargo were imprisoned in, yes, but this time, he was standing right next to one of the tables.
Outside of the barrier.
A smile formed on his lips, a pure form of happiness that his plan had worked. As he'd somewhat expected, his healing aura, by its very nature, could also protect him from some measure of physical harm. Experimentally, he examined every spot where he had exposed skin, looking for any telltale burn marks. There were none. In fact, he felt great; this experience had invigorated him so much that he almost forgot about his injured shoulder, and the half-mended hole in his leg that still produced a noticeable limp.
He turned around, his eyes falling upon the slumbering form of Scargo. His brother looked so small and helpless in there, and this feeling was magnified by the fact that he would not be able to pass through the barrier in the same manner. Dende's powers flowed into the body of the one he touched, not around it. So while he could heal, he could not form a protective shield around anyone but himself.
This thought did not do much to discourage him, however. There were other ways to get Scargo out of there.
He cast his eyes upward and to his left, to the wall beside their holding area. There in all its foreign technological glory was the control pad for the barrier. This was the way to free his bother, if he could just figure out how to use it.
Nervously, Dende glanced toward the door, keeping his eyes there for several seconds. He supposed that there was not much risk of anyone coming in here any time too soon, as it had not been long since Doctor Gneiss had left. Still, it was prudent to check for such things.
Since none of the fears that Dende harboured were validated, he turned back to the control pad, floating up a few feet into the air so that he could reach it. Numerous neatly lined buttons greeted his eyes, decorated with strange symbols that were no doubt letters in some foreign language. Above them, a small rectangular screen glowed a faint yellow. Dende knew little about machines, but he assumed that this particular detail was the indicator for the barrier being armed.
He glanced once again back at the door, just to make sure that nobody was coming, then hesitantly raised his index finger to the keypad. At random, he typed in various symbols, then pressed a small green button that was in the bottom corner. He'd spent a little time watching Bulma back on Earth, and learned that such things on a computer usually indicated a means by which to confirm information.
The yellow light flashed red for a few seconds, and then returned to its original state. Dende frowned. Obviously, that was not the correct code. Being as he did not understand the language that was written on these buttons, this could take quite a while. It would have taken quite a while even if he had understood it. Codes were annoying that way.
Still, this was the only way that he could think of to free his brother. And so he continued to float there in front of the device, punching in failed code after failed code, hoping hard that he would eventually stumble upon the correct one.
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Doctor Gneiss switched on the audio feed to her computer, and it indicated its readiness by flashing the words onto the screen. With no hesitation – for there was never any hesitation in her; it was not in her nature – she began to relay her findings.
"In comparing the blood samples from both subjects, I have come upon striking differences in its composition. While the second has a relatively high number of disease and injury-fighting organisms within his blood, it may well be standard in a species which had been previously noted for powerful regenerative capabilities. However, the first subject . . ."
Uncharacteristically, she let her voice trail off here. Few things amazed her so much that she lost the ability to form words, even for a few seconds. It was an experience that she both relished and hated with a passion.
But she was a professional and quickly regained her voice, continuing, " . . . The first subject's rating in this area was substantially higher. Near to the top of the currently recorded scale. Disparity this large between two members of the same species has never been recorded. Further study will be conducted on this subject to determine the cause of this abnormally high count."
She paused again, wondering. That first child, the older one, certainly was quite the specimen. Her studies had already yielded some interesting results on him. Not that the results for the younger one were not intriguing in their own way, but they just could not compare. Her first subject of the two was turning out to be the most fascinating one that she'd had the pleasure of working on in years.
"X-ray scans show no significant differences in bone structure. The second subject's skeleton was completely intact, while the first one's showed some sign of injury, no doubt incurred just prior to its arrival into the laboratory. Small fractures in the left shoulder, and a small hole in the left femur."
There was another thing intriguing about her first subject right there. A hole clear through the bone in one leg, and yet there had been no sign at all of a surface injury. Wounds like that did not just happen. For there to be a clear shot through the bone, the outside of the limb must surely have been punctured.
She made a note of this in her file. "Skin above this hole was entirely unbroken, indicating that perhaps the flesh heals at a very rapid rate while bone takes a generally accepted as normal healing time. This is uncertain, however, and bears more detailed study."
Once more, she paused, but this time in glee rather than astonishment. A smile stretched her thin lips as she contemplated what those detailed studies would entail. How wonderful it was to be investigating a hardly investigated species. The child would certainly have to be sedated for the following tests, as a matter of necessity this time rather than ease. Detailed scans tended to be very hard on the body enduring them, and the subjects tended to thrash uncontrollably, screaming out in pain. The screaming was annoying, and the thrashing messed with the results.
"These studies will be performed starting tomorrow morning," she continued at last, fighting through her excitement well enough to keep her voice level. And it was even a fight to get herself to wait that long; the subject was recovered well enough to . . .
What had that child been doing, anyway? She'd gotten no coherent answer from him when she'd caught him touching the barrier and giving no reaction. There had always been one before, so why not then? Or perhaps he was merely getting better at hiding the pain? Perhaps her studies would give her the answer that the child could not.
"They will be performed tomorrow morning," she repeated, getting her mind back on track, "and will be continued throughout the day. Testing on subject two is suspended for at least one day. End audio link."
The computer quickly and silently complied with her request, the screen going dark. And she sat in her chair, hands tented. The reflection in the now black screen showed her lips pulled back in a full smile, and her solid blue eyes nearly glowing with delight.
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It had taken a while, but they had finally found a village. The search had been so frustrating for Basalt that he wished one of his underlings would have said something, so that he would have an excuse to blast him to bits. His patience had always been a weak fabric, and it quickly wore thin. But with no real reason to expel his anger, he had kept it reined in, so well that he was sure that his underlings had seen very little of it. Always best to appear in control.
And now he truly was in control, for finding the village had cooled his temper. Somewhere down there – he and his crew regarded the settlement from atop a high bluff – was that mystical object, that Dragonball. Once he found it, and the other crews brought the remaining balls to him, he would shatter that glass ceiling once and for all. His lips curved in a smile at the very thought. Only a matter of time.
"So what is the plan, commander?"
The question came from a spindly creature quite in contrast to all the others around him, who were at least well-muscled if not bulky. He was largely an unknown to Basalt, who mainly only remembered anything about the crew that he was supposed to accompany, and barely that. But Pumice, still being injured, had remained on the ship recovering, leaving this man called Shale to take his place in the patrol.
And while this question bordered upon inappropriate timing, Basalt was in a generous enough mood now to let it slide, and even give it an answer. "The artifact will probably be near the centre of the village; I've told you how important they are to these creatures. Make a quick strike at the centre and the locals won't have the time to know what hit them."
It really was a very simple strategy, to get in and out quickly. While he was confident that he could handle even whatever warriors might be present here, he didn't want that to be necessary. He had Dragonballs to collect; there was no time to go around destroying villages. At least not until afterward, where he might decide to do so as a small celebration. But one thing at a time.
"Move in." He uttered only these two words before he took to the air and heard the sounds of his crew following suit behind him. He flew quickly, at a great height until he and the others were directly above a large building near the centre of the settlement. No need to angle the flight downward and alert the locals too early to their presence.
With no hesitation on his part, or on the part of anyone with him, he plunged downward, crashing easily through the roof.
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Whelk's head snapped up at the sound of the crashing noise, and he silently cursed himself for being so unobservant. He could sense several new ki signatures in the village now, ones that he should have detected earlier. For a change, he had taken Limpet's advice and relaxed a little bit, thus ignoring his ki-sensing awareness for a short while. Whelk frowned; he was never listening to that lackadaisical Namek again. This whole mess regarding the children must have taken an unpleasant toll upon his mind for him to have done so in the first place.
He rushed to his feet, and headed toward the crash. He'd been on the edge of the village, doing a simple meditation, but being as this was one of the smaller villages on the planet, he did not have far to go. And he was not the only one hurrying toward the sound, as most of the other villagers had taken stride. Limpet was at his side almost immediately.
"What do you suppose that was?"
Normally, Whelk would have scolded him for asking yet another foolish question, but he did not have the time right now. So he just answered him straight out. "Whatever it is, I bet it's what is responsible for the disappearances of the children."
And that was what made this situation all the worse. If these creatures were beginning to attack the villages, then what did that mean for the fate of the children? He doubted the answer to that would be one that he liked.
But these thoughts fled from his mind as he neared the village centre. All thoughts did, in fact, and he nearly froze at what he saw.
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It was light inside the room, and would have been even had they not made a hole in the ceiling; such was the effect of a building having so many windows. While other members of the crew set to defending their position from the locals, Shale led a group of three that was to search for that artifact in which their commander had taken such a sudden and strange interest. Seeing nothing of the vague description that all of them had been given, he motioned for the rest of his group to follow him.
This next room was larger than the last, which must have been a mere antechamber. And within this room, resting on a pedestal at its very centre, was a large orange sphere. Without a doubt, this had to be what they were looking for.
"Easiest job I've had in quite a while, if I do say so myself," Shale said smugly, stepping forward to remove the oversized ball from its pedestal.
He never knew what hit him.