Note: author's commentary in double parentheses ((like this)). Parentheses within parentheses (that's when you have something like this (and then something else like this)) are not the same ting as double parentheses. I don't know if it will come up, but I thought I'd mention it, just in case.

Distant Shores

Part Two: Shadows of Earth

Chapter One

S-Michael

Gohan, age 15

The king of the galaxy awoke in his wife's arms. Gohan and Bulma were technically newlyweds, but the reason they were even getting married in the first place was because Bulma was pregnant. He was both more and less dependant on Bulma now than he was five years ago. Less, because as he got older and wiser he began to develop his own ideas about how to run his kingdom. More, because he loved her.

He got out of bed so as not to disturb his wife and sat down at the desk. He was supposed to be on his honeymoon, but even on vacation, he couldn't stop thinking about those three phantoms of space. The humanoids sixteen, seventeen, and eighteen-even after three years of chasing every lead he could find, those were still the only names he had for them.. They looked human, but how could humans be so powerful? The whole reason Gohan had never returned to Earth was that he didn't know what might follow him and devastate civilization on the small planet. If these beings were human, though, his fears had been completely unfounded.

Everywhere they went, destruction and chaos followed. The pattern was clear: they came to a planet, toppled it, fought and killed anyone who showed promise as a fighter, got bored, and left. The had done this dozens of times already. It's all a game to them, isn't it? Destroying all those worlds, ruining all those lives…it's all just so fun to them, isn't it? Gohan clenched his fists. He didn't care if they were human; after what they did, they were going to die. Gohan was a gentle soul, but he could kill when he had to. If he couldn't, he wouldn't be here. Well, he might be here, but he'd be here as a stuffed and mounted trophy of Frieza's, not as the usurper of his throne.

"Still working?" Buma asked. "Come back to bed. We're entitled to our honeymoon, aren't we?"

Gohan got in bed. "I just can't stop thinking about them," he said. "Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Why do they call themselves this? What is the significance of these numbers to them? Are they some sort of army unit? If so, what happened to numbers one through fifteen?"

"I know what you mean," Bulma said. "I can't stop asking myself tens of thousands of questions regarding them. Still, taking one night off won't destroy the universe, and we definitely deserve it."

"I know, I know. That doesn't make it any easier to forget."

"I know something that will help us both forget for a moment."

Gohan grinned. "You know, that just might work."

"You'll be a good king, when you're finally old enough to not have to listen to me," Bulma said.

"I'll never be that old."

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My dearest Bulma,

As much as it pains me to leave you on the verge of our honeymoon, I must. I fear that you may not survive an encounter with these people. They have stalled at Malcath, but not because they have been waylaid; they are apparently enjoying themselves as they break the people of that world. Malcath, as you know, is inhabited by Frieza's people. While it is true that Frieza was one of the strongest of his kind, he wasn't freakishly abnormal, and so you can well imagine how powerful these three must be if they can terrorize a whole world and more of Friezas--or rather, you can't.

Bulma, you mean the galaxy to me. You are my everything. You are the only point of light within my dark universe. I do not know what I would do without you. Earth is nothing to me but a faded memory, and the only other human beings in the galaxy that I know of are the ones that I'm going to kill--and sometimes I wonder if they are even human at all! They're invisible to scanners, and they don't seem to be having any trouble in Malcath's harsh environs. That world may or may not be the one in which Frieza's race evolved, but it certainly would warrant the evolution of such a race, and indeed, and the Malcathi are even hardier than is usual for their people.

The point is, I'm going to need special training if I am to defeat these monsters. If I remember correctly, my father once trained in one hundred times earth gravity, though I don't remember who told me. It was not enough. If I am to defeat these three, I must train much, much harder. You would never survive on a ship with so much gravity, so I wouldn't be able to bring you, even if I thought it was a good idea. Please, don't come after me. If I die, you must go on. We have allies now, so it won't be as it used to be. In fact, since these three are from earth, there is no reason that I can think of why you couldn't go back there. No reason why our child couldn't be raised with his or her own kind.

If you do go back to Earth, tell my mom

Here he stopped. What would he have her say to his mom? He didn't really remember his mother. She was part of a world that was more abstract than real to him by this point in his life. He didn't know what he would say to her. He didn't know what he would have Bulma say to her. Then it hit him that he was a fifteen-year-old boy who was having a baby with his mom's best friend, or at least the woman who had been her best friend; a lot could change in ten years. He didn't know what that meant (and that alone said something about how far removed he was from the Earth), but he knew that whatever it was wasn't good.

If you do go back to Earth, and you should meet my mother, well, I trust your judgment. Tell her what you will. About me, about what we have done, about us. I don't remember what the Earth was like, but I have an idea that a relationship between a woman your age and a man my age (would I be considered a man, even?) would be frowned upon, so I would understand if no one knew who the baby's father was. But that is neither here nor there. Go where you will. Do what you will, but I implore you, don't do something stupid, like trying to avenge my death. Just try to survive as best as you can. Survive for me, even if you don't feel like you can. I need you to survive. I love you.

I know that I'm being stupid. I know that I'm being childish. I know that I mean as much to you as you do to me, maybe even more, because you remember the world that I am your last tie to, and I not so much. I know that you would be as devastated with my death as I would be with yours. But even though I know this, I can't help myself. Maybe I'm just being selfish. Anyway, I know that you will understand. As a matter of fact, you'll probably understand what I'm doing better than I do. You always were the brains of the operation.

Love you with all that I am,

Gohan

Gohan considered putting a PS in, but he couldn't think of what he would say in it. Still, it didn't seem…enough. He shrugged, left the note where Bulma would find it, and left the honeymoon suite.

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"I am exhausted, my lord," Heater said. Heater was a Malcathi, and some relative of Frieza's, a third cousin or something.

"We have to keep training," Gohan said.

"We've been training from when we awaken to when we fall over with exhaustion and sleep for thirteen days," Heater said. "You cannot tell me that you are not exhausted. I've used all of my transformations, and you're working under a hundred times the gravity that I am."

Gohan looked at the floating orbs. They were personal gravity regulators, PGRs, the latest thing. His was set at ten times ship gravity, Heater's at one tenth's ship gravity, and the ship's gravity was at standard.

"I'm only at ten gravities!" Gohan said.

"Correction, you're at ten Saiyan gravities. That's like a hundred in real life!" Heater said.

"Oh, right, this is a Saiyan ship, isn't it?"

"Yes, sire. That's why you took it, remember?"

"One hundred gravities, eh?"

"Yes, sire."

"How long until we reach Malcath?"

"Eighty-seven days," Heater said. "Let's rest."

"Not yet," Gohan said. "Computer, turn up the gravity, one-point-one. Heater, turn down your PGR, at least to eleven, more if you feel you have to. I need to keep training."

"You're going to kill me, sire!" Heater complained. "First my cousins, and now me. What is this, some insidious plot?"

"Look, Heater, these people are crushing a whole solar system of your people under their jackboot. If I am to save your people, I need to be as strong as I can be."

"Sorry for the lip, sir."

Gohan reconsidered. "On the other hand, we could use a five minute break, get a glass of water, whatever."

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At first, Heater had looked nothing like Frieza. His kind loved to transform, and usually the farther from their true form a form was, the better. When Gohan had first met Heater, his tail hid been two, which he had used to slither snake-like, he had four arms, and he had a main of purple hair. As he had transformed, his hair thickened into horns and eventually were absorbed into his flesh, his lower arms became gradually lower and more leg-like, and his tails became one. Eventally, the creature that stood before him resembled Frieza--a lot.

As he trained, he focused on Heater, and he realized that even after all these years, he still hated Frieza. It made sense: Frieza had taken from him all that he had ever loved. His father? Killed by Frieza. Krillin? Killed by Frieza. Mr. Piccolo? Killed by Frieza. The Earth? His mother? They still existed, but he would never see either of them again--and again, this was because of Frieza. Frieza was responsible for everything that had happened. Hell, if it hadn't been for Frieza, Vageta would never have come to Earth in the first place, and he'd be a normal boy living a normal life. Well, as normal as you get when you have a tail. And you turn into a giant ape when you look at the full moon.

"Sire!" Heater shouted.

Gohan stopped in the middle of what would have been a killing move. He had already beaten Heater, who was sprawled on the ground, looking up at him with unadulterated terror. "I think that that's enough for today. Are you alright?"

"Uh…fine, sire," Heater said, not meaning it.

"Well, you should go ahead and rest. I think I'll be training solo for the rest of the day," Gohan said. Heater left the room. "PGR--storage!" He felt suddenly lighter as the gravity he was under divided by ten. He looked at the ship's gravity regulator. It said ten, which meant that it was at a hundred by human standards. "Ship, give me a hundred gravities in this room," he ordered. He was training under a thousand gravities, ten times what his father had done. But it still wasn't good enough. Goku had trained under a hundred gravities, and he was dead. The people Gohan was going to try to kill had made a whole planet of Friezas into their own personal plaything. "One hundred one gravities, ship!" One thousand ten. This ship informed him that the gravity generator could only do one hundred gravities. "PGR--on me! Set gravity amplification for one-point-oh-one," which was the same thing. He trained for a while, but he still wasn't good enough. "PGR--one-point-oh-five!" More training. "PGR--one-point-one." And so it went:

"PGR--one-point-one-five!"

"PGR--one-point-two!"

"PGR--one-point-three!"

"PGR--one-point-five!" And so it went.

"My god, sire, have you been training all night?" Heater asked.

"What time is it?" Gohan asked.

"Breakfast," Heater said. "How many gravities are you training under?"

Gohan looked at the ship's readout, and then looked at the GPR readout, and took a moment to do the math in his head. Heater, who know his sire to be a mathematical genius, took this to be a bad sign. "Two thousand."

"Look, sire, I know that you want to be strong when we reach my homeworld, but--"

Gohan collapsed.

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"What happened?" Gohan asked when he awoke.

"You're alive? Oh, thank god! I was afraid that you wouldn't survive."

That was when he realized that he was in one of the ship's recuperation pods, or whatever they were called. Ironically, he had never made an effort to study Saiyans. He got out and shook his hair dry. It was longer than it had been before. His eyes widened. "How long was I in there?"

"Just a day and a half. The pod did that to you, somehow. I don't know why; it never had that effect on Saiyans, I don't think," Heater said. ((In the canon, it is eventually revealed that a Saiyan's hair never grows or changes.)) "And as for what happened, you were training under two thousand gravity all night, that's what happened. You're no good to us if you get yourself killed, sire! Damn it, I thought you were smarter than this!"

"So did I," said Gohan. "I think…I think it may be time for a little break from training. Just for today. You know, open our e-mails and junk."

"I believe that that would be wise, Sire," Heater said, relieved.

"Man, I'm hungry," Gohan complained.

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Gohan ate what was for him a large breakfast ravenously, and then went to checked on his e-mail. There was one from Bulma. It read, quite simply:

Gohan, I understand that you're probably training and are very busy, so just call me as soon as you can, okay? Bulma.

Gohan turned on the phone and called Bulma. Her picture came on screen. "What the hell took you so long! It's been three weeks since I sent that message!" Gohan remembered that a week was seven days, so that meant that she sent that letter at least twenty-one days ago. It had probably been twenty-two days ago, because that was when his ship left.

"Sorry, I've…well, I was really into the training," Gohan said lamely. "In fact, I recently had a training accident, and so I'm taking the day off. That's the only reason I've gotten around to reading my messages."

"How bad of an accident?"

"I was unconscious for a day and a half," Gohan said. "I was being stupid, trying to train under two thousand gravities."

"My god, Gohan," Bulma said.

"I seem to be provoking that response a lot in recent history," Gohan said.

"I wonder why," Bulma said dryly.

Gohan looked at her. It was just an image in a screen, but…

"Gohan? What's wrong?"

"I miss you, love," Gohan said.

"I miss you, too, love," Bulma said sympathetically.

"So, what's been going on at the court, my queen?"

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After he got off of the phone with Bulma, he wanted to do something productive with his time, but he had promised that he wouldn't train, so he was reading up. He had already read everything there was to read on the fugitives, so he was reading about Malcath. He had been calling Malcath a planet, which wasn't strictly true. It was a jumble of minor planets ((that means asteroids)), the largest of which being about half Earth's size. Dependant upon how the minor planets arranged themselves, there could be anything from nothing to ten gravities at any given point on the surface--which meant that there could be anywhere from no atmosphere to atmosphere pressure like that in an ocean. Heater's race may or may not have evolved there, but it's wildlife certainly had their most famous trait: the ability to survive without atmosphere indefinitely. Malcath also had a very erratic orbit, so that sometimes it was at the outer reaches of its star's planetary disk, and sometimes it was at the inner edge. No one but Heater's people would want to live in such a place! It was as beautiful as it was deadly to human life, however, like the rings of Saturn, real close up.

Saturn. Sister planet of Earth. Gohan tried to recall specific facts about it, but he couldn't, not really. Well, it must have rings, or else he wouldn't have used that expression to describe the world of Malcath. It was funny, how the subconscious mind remembered things and then brought them up when you least expected it. Gohan shrugged, and got back to work.

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"So, Heater, tell me about your people. What makes you so powerful?" Gohan asked.

"Transformation is a big pat of our culture," Heater said. He had transformed into his four-armed, twin-snake-tail form for the day, even though he knew he'd just have to turn back again, and was slithering about the kitchen. "You want anything while I'm up?"

"What's this ship got in way of junk food? It's been forever since I indulged in childish urges," Gohan said.

"Transforming costs energy, you see. That is to say, once you transform into a 'lesser' form, you only have a fraction of your original form. When you transform again, you only have a fraction of that strength, you know? For most races, being able to transform a lot means that you can get really strong. For us, getting really strong means that you can transform a lot. The stranger a Malcathi looks, the more beautiful he is. I know; we're weird." He tossed Gohan a couple of candy bars.

"The Uhgr of Chka cut off their lower right arm for the sake of beauty. I guess it's really all up to culture," Gohan said, tearing into the candy. "You people are obviously stronger than almost anything in the galaxy, and yet aside from a handful of individuals like Frieza, your race has never tried to conquer the universe."

Heater shrugged. "Why would we need to. The asteroids, the gas giants, the small moons, these are our playground. You weaklings can have your M-class planets, there's so much more out there. Besides, we're pretty much a race of philosophers without interest in war, you know?"

"Do you think that when we get there, your people will be all transformed out? I mean--"

"All the bells and whistles, you betcha. You wouldn't even believe that any one was the same species as any other one, you know?"

"Ah," said Gohan. This was good. He didn't know if he could face a world full of Friezas.

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Goku fell to the earth, his power level, so close to Frieza's just now, was now gone. His hair which had turned yellow was once again black. His eyes which had turned blue were once again dark.

"DADDY!" Gohan screamed. Something inside of him snapped, and he blasted Frieza with everything that he had. The distant part of him that knew that this was a dream based on memory said that this was the part where he quite gruesomely tore off Frieza's head with his bare hands, but when he was about to do it, he froze. It wasn't Frieza he had killed: it was Heater. "NOO!"

Vagita was there, even though this was way after Frieza had killed him. "I see that you killed the little traitor, Lord Frieza," he said to Gohan. Frieza? Me? It couldn't be! "What do you want me to do with his friends?" Vagita gestured towards Dende, Bulma, inexplicably alive Krillin, Goku, and Piccolo…and another Gohan, a younger him.

"Kill them," Frieza's voice came out of Gohan's mouth.

"With pleasure, sire," Vagita said. He grinned as he shot them with a huge energy blast.

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Gohan was back under one thousand five hundred gravities, and feeling fine. He couldn't understand his new strength, but he was grateful for it.

"It's an old legend in the galaxy that when a Saiyan has a near-death experience, he comes back stronger than ever," Heater said.

"Interesting," Gohan said.

Heater picked up on the signs, "Oh, you are not going to try something stupid, like having a series of near-death experiences, are you? You were just lucky that I was there when you collapsed, or you would be dead, and then who would fight these monsters?"

"Fine, I won't," said Gohan, "but just think…"

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Gohan flew around the planet, wearing a force-shield on his belt so that he wouldn't keel over and die every time he flew over an area less than hospitable to human life. Where were they? He knew that people from Earth could suppress their power levels, but never that they could extinguish them completely. Then again, he had never heard of humans anywhere near this powerful. In fact, wasn't the whole reason they never returned to Earth because they were afraid of being followed by the big, bad alien monsters to their weak and pathetic world?

"Well, well, well. Look at what we have here. This one actually looks human," a female voice said.

Gohan knew who it was before he saw her: "Eighteen." He spun around. Yes, it was her, she was somehow both more and less beautiful in person. Something was missing, and she did indeed have no readable power level.

"Oh, are you a fan? Dou you want my autograph, little boy?" she asked. "It's been a while since we left Earth, so I might be tempted to give you more than an autograph," she ran her eyes over his body meaningfully. "Before I kill you, I mean."

"I'm flattered, really," Gohan said dryly. "Too bad I'm married."

"Well, I never was one to break up a happy couple. I'll just kill you, then."

"You're too kind," Gohan was still dry.

"Hey now sister," A young man with dark hair and a kerchief flew up: Seventeen. "As I recall, You killed the last human we got to kill before the old man kicked us off the planet."

What the hell were they talking about? What old man kicked them off the planet? Gohan couldn't imagine any human being being strong enough to face these three, let alone face them and win, not even this Master Roshi fellow Bulma had told him about. Something wasn't right here…

"Aw, but he's more powerful by far than those weakling humans ever were."

"Tough, he's mine. Unless, of course, you want a shot at him, Sixteen. You haven't killed anything, human or alien," Seventeen said.

The third of the group showed himself. He looked at Gohan.

"What is it, Sixteen? Are you going to take me up on the offer for once?"

"The resemblance is remarkable," Sixteen said.

"The resemblance…oh, is this the Goku thing again?"

"What do you want, Sixteen?" Gohan demanded.

"I am looking for Goku," Sixteen said.

"Well, you're about ten years late. My father is dead. What business did you have with him? Did you know him? Because I don't remember ever hearing about you."

"I was going to kill him, but that is no longer relevant, since he is dead."

"You can kill his son, if that will give your programming solace." Seventeen said.

Programming? Gohan realized what was bothering him: For countless minutes, these "humans" had been breathing poisonous gas with no ill effects. He remembered something Bulma had said once, something about something called the Red Ribbon Army, "You…you're androids!"

"What, you thought we were human?" Eighteen asked. She laughed.

"There's no need," Sixteen assured Seventeen.

"Well, he's mine, then, but be a sport, boy; take off your force shield."

"I can't. This area of the planet is toxic to me. Don't worry, though; all this shield does is keep the good air in and the bad air out. It shouldn't impede our fight…unless, of course, you destroy it."

"Where would be the sport there?" Seventeen asked. "Let's do this."

Seventeen flew at him, throwing a few punches, which Gohan easily blocked. "Well, looks like you're not completely incompetent." He shot at Gohan with a power blast, and Gohan shot back. They circled each other, or rather they circled the big ball of energy that was growing in between them, like planets circling a sun. Gohan gave it a strong burst, and sent it towards Seventeen, who bashed it away, creating a crater that was impressive, even for this world. "My, but you are impressive."

"Shut up. Is this a game to you? I am going to destroy you, don't you understand what the hell you people have been doing all this time?" Gohan demanded.

"Oh yes, this is most fun, isn't it?"

Gohan lunged at him across open air. Punch, miss. Punch, miss. Kick, miss. Punch, contact. Seventeen hit the ground going about mach 2. He didn't let up though; Gohan blasted Seventeen…and then the energy ball went flying. Seventeen was about to get up, but then he collided with Gohan's feet, which were going even faster than mach 2. Gohan twisted his feet. The rock under Seventeen crumbled to sand, but Seventeen blasted Gohan, sending him flying. Gohan caught himself before what went up could come down, straightened himself, and blasted at Seventeen. But he was also up, and launched himself into the air, so the blast missed.

"Oh, you're good," Seventeen said. "I haven't had a fight like this since…well, actually, never. You're the closest to an equal I have. Pathetic, ain't it?"

"Die, bastard!" Gohan lunged at him again. Punch, miss, but while he was doing that he also brought his feet up behind him in a maneuver that could only possibly work if you didn't need to have your feet on the ground and kicked Seventeen in the face. Gohan made his hands into fists and pressed them together pulling them apart to reveal a cord of pure energy about the thickness and length of a jump rope. "Wire of Ka'irith'rath!" he intoned. During these last three years, and during the years when he was a fugitive, and to a lesser extent while he was king, Gohan had been learning alien techniques. He wrapped the rope around Seventeen's neck in a garrote-esque maneuver, and pulled, fully intending to remove the android's head. The technique was in principle similar to Krillin's Destructro Disk. Seventeen did the exact same thing that Gohan had done to free himself when this attack had been used on him; he aimed his most powerful blast at Gohan's hands. It made him let go of the wire, which made the wire disintegrate. He kicked at Gohan, who went flying twelve yards before righting himself.

"How did you know?" Gohan demanded.

"I didn't, but one lives to hope. Letting you take my head would have severely disadvantaged me in the fight," Seventeen said.

"Oh, really? How about losing your body, then?" said Gohan a bit savagely. "Tayilhee Webwork!" Dozens, no, hundreds of tiny golden filaments shot from his fingertips and around Seventeen. It wrapped him around on all sides, paralyzing him.

Seventeen tried to force his way free with brute, but Gohan put more strength into the strings, and stopped him from succeeding. He relented. "Well, I must admit, that you are stronger than I am, but I am still going to win."

"How do you figure that?" Gohan asked.

"You are flesh and blood. Eventually, you will fatigue. You will have to eat, have to rest, have to sleep some time. I am not encumbered like that. Already, you are breathing hard from your exerts here. Your power needs to be renewed, while mine lasts forever," Seventeen said.

"Well, then, I'm just going to have to finish you off before that happens, won't I?" Gohan asked. He formed energy into the shape of a sword, "Sword of--"

Seventeen flexed his power again, "Ah-ah-ah." Gohan had to redirect his power into the Webwork…which caused his sword to shrink and diminish. "You might as well let me out of this web of yours while you've still the strength to face me on equal terms. This is just going to drain you dry, and then you won't be a very tough opponent at all, just another weak little human."

"Oh, I've still got one trick up my sleeve," Gohan said. "Plants and animals of this world, give me the strength to defend you." Bits of energy began to be drawn to Gohan's hand from all over the place until it glowed like white phosphorus.

"What alien power is this?" Seventeen asked.

"Oh, this one is human born. Prepare to meet the Spirit Bomb," The last two words were intoned, and he shot it at Seventeen. The plants and animals of this world were very hearty, and they gave him enough strength with which to kill Seventeen. Then Eighteen got in the way of the blast, presumably to save her brother. Ah, well, the blast would kill them both. Sixteen came at the blast and knocked it aside like it was nothing, and proceeded to attack Gohan. It quickly became clear that Sixteen was the strongest of the three, the strongest by far and wide. Gohan tried to fight back, but couldn't lay a single punch.

Gohan was knocked to the ground, and quickly lost consciousness.

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"Sire, are you alright?" Heater asked.

"Yeah, but I don't know why I'm still alive," Gohan said.

"That bad, eh?"

"No, I actually had the upper hand on Seventeen in a one-on-one battle, and was about to strike the killing blow, too, when Sixteen interfered. That one, he is in a league of his own, I was nowhere near as strong as he was," Gohan said. He noticed that his hair was even longer than it had been. "The pod again?"

"Aye, sire."

"How long?"

"Three days, sire," Heater said.

Gohan swore. "There's no telling what they could have done in that time!"

"Actually, they left, sire. You may not have defeated them, but you did scare them off," Heater said. "By the way, the queen is coming. She said that the only reason she let you get away with leaving her behind was because you were nearing the end of the trail, but now that you're going to have to hunt them down again…"

No, this didn't add up. If they were afraid of him, why didn't they kill him while they had the chance? If they were toying with him, why not stay around until he was well enough to be toyed with? Not that he doubted that the androids liked a good game of cat and mouse-- but only as long as they were the cats. Something wasn't right with this picture.

Something was definitely wrong here.