Chapter 8: Takeoff
"Hey, Bulma?" Robbie asked as they descended, "Where are we going?"
"You'll see in a minute." She responded.
They continued down the steel steps, turned 180 degrees at the landing, and continued down another flight. It was darker now, and Robbie's eyes could barely penetrate the gloom. The air was colder, too, and he began to hug himself to keep warm. Finally, they reached the bottom, a short, concrete hallway with a door on either side and one on the end. Bulma walked over to the one on the left and swept a keycard through the control panel on the left side. The door didn't open immediately as Robbie thought it would. Instead, he heard the thuds and clicks of closing relays coming through the walls. More clicks and then, after about a minute, a klaxon blared and the door rushed open with a *whoosh*. Bulma stepped inside and Robbie followed, in awe of the sight that met his eyes.
"Pretty nice, huh?" Bulma stood and surveyed her private lab with a look of pride. "Been mine since college, when my dad gave it to me as a graduation gift. I swear, I must have spent the entire summer down here!" She laughed warmly, but quickly fell silent again. Robbie was broken out of his trance as he became aware of the intense nostalgia that once again surrounded her.
He knew that this, too, was a result of the Androids' presence, and though his fifteen-year-old mind couldn't comprehend it, he had just made an unconscious decision to end that presence. He didn't know how, but he vowed to bring peace to this broken Earth and end the suffering of Bulma, his quasi-dream-girl. He thought these thoughts, however, in a detached way, not realizing that he was still a weak human boy.
Robbie didn't hear her when she started to speak again. "Huh?"
"I said, does your Dad have a lab like this?"
"Kinda, but the walls and floor are tan, and he's got all these benches covered with little things, but I don't know what they are. His is smaller, too." Robbie stared at the lofty ceiling, the stainless steel walls, and the mysterious equipment everywhere. Yet what caught his eye most was the towering machine in the center of the room. He stood, transfixed by realization. It was the Time Machine, the device used by Trunks to save the past and later by Cell in an attempt to destroy it. "Holy cow! It's the Time Machine!" Robbie blurted out. Bulma, who was sitting at a lab table behind him, jumped up as if he had slapped her butt.
"How do you know that!?"
"Ummm..uh-oh."
"Was that in the series too?"
"Yeah, and a movie." Robbie was once again reminded of his screw-up, and registered another mental kick to his behind.
"Wow. So am I really famous over in your world?"
"Yeah, lots of people watch the show, and some even write extra stories about your life."
"How do they know about me?"
"They don't. They just guess and write whatever comes to mind. It's called fan fiction."
"Interesting." Bulma said nothing more and went back to the piece of equipment she was working on. Robbie walked over to the machine and ran a hand down one sleek metal side.
"Is this thing going to get us to New Namek?"
"Yup. All I have to do is add this component here to allow for a spatial jump, and we'll be there in no time. We could probably get back before Trunks comes home."
"Does Trunks know we're doing this?"
"Of course not. He'd worry too much, and without me to watch him, he might go do something stupid, again."
"Oh. Do you still have Dragon Radar?"
"Yup. It's right on the counter over there. Could you grab it?"
"Sure" Robbie walked over and laid his hands on the circular object the size of a large pocket watch. Emulating the show, he clicked the button on the top. As he expected, the screen was blank.
"Okay, I'm finished! Let's jack this baby in and blast off!"
Bulma walked over to the machine and carefully began connecting into the electronic network of the craft. After soldering the final connections and affixing the plate securely into the side, she was finished. She stood, wiped the sweat from her brow, and turned to Robbie.
"Ready to go, kid?"
"Ready when you are, ma'am." They both grinned stupidly at one another.
Robbie grabbed a ladder, placed it against the side of the machine and motioned Bulma up.
"Ladies first." He said.
"What a cute little gentleman!" She said as she climbed the ladder and tousled Robbie's hair. Robbie followed, but at the top he found Bulma standing in the cockpit.
"This thing only has one seat, so I'm going to have to sit on your lap." Robbie reddened visibly.
"Ummm…. No problem…"
He sat down in the plush captain's chair. Bulma followed. Robbie's face quickly turned a shade of red that would make a tomato jealous. He also found, to his horror, that as soon as Bulma's rear end met his lap, he was hard.
You're kidding me! Of all the times…
Apparently Bulma didn't notice, so Robbie just grit his teeth and tried to forget about it. Meanwhile, she began punching commands into the keyboard, and the machine powered up. He heard a humming, then a whirring noise, and the machine began to levitate.
"Opening bay doors. Brace for launch!" Sunlight filtered in as the roof of the lab split open. The machine began to rise up through the narrow passage until it finally emerged above Capsule Corp. It began to pick up speed and push higher, and now the entire ruined city was in view. The machine suddenly surged forward and within a minute, they were through the stratosphere, mesosphere, and thermosphere, and out in the edges of space.
"Okay, Rob, here's the fun part. Hold on!" Bulma slammed forward on a lever, and the ship was instantly surrounded by azure fire. It surged upward like a river, and the ship was carried forward on the swift current. Then they were hurtling through the void like a rifle shot. Bulma gripped the controls and guided the craft through the narrow tube. They twisted, turned, dove, and dipped. Twice Robbie suppressed the urge to lose his lunch in Bulma's hair. Bulma, meanwhile, was the epitome of cool, nimbly guiding them through the winding passage. And then they were through.
The stars appeared once again, and everything was normal, except for the planet drifting lazily beneath them. There was the shining emerald: New Namek.
Bulma drew the lever back and guided the craft toward the rotating sphere. As they moved closer, heat began to build on the outside of the craft and a red corona appeared on the outside of the cockpit.
"Uh…Bulma? Do you know what you're doing?" Robbie stammered.
"Sure…Well, sort of. I've only done a reentry once with this machine."
"Anything before that?"
"No."
"How did the first one go?"
"I walked away from it, but it took me three months to rebuild this crate." Robbie blanched, and wrapped his arms around her waist.
The craft began to buck and rock as Bulma fought for control. The corona was blazing red and the external temperature meter was pegged. Robbie grit his teeth and held on as they passed through the outer atmosphere and appeared in the skies above New Namek. Winds buffeted the tiny craft and Bulma resumed her frantic fight for control. They rocked, they barrel rolled, they looped-the-loop. Robbie, meanwhile, fought to keep his insides on the inside.
The craft continued to descend, but was still hurtling like a green thunderbolt. Robbie opened his eyes briefly and took in the sights: green, and lots of it. Green trees, green grass, beautiful expanses of green water; it was a mirror image of the original Namek. The he shut them tightly as the craft bounced again. However, Bulma was gaining the upper hand, and on the view screen, Robbie saw that she was following a perfect flight path. They were slowing down and gaining more stability. Finally, Bulma leaned back and breathed a sigh of relief as she cut the airspeed back to leisurely pace.
"Whew! Well, we're still alive!"
"And in one piece!" Robbie responded.
"Watch it mister!" Both laughed brightly.
"Bulma, where are we going?"
"I'm not sure. I'm trying to find a village so we can talk to the people here. You see, we could just lock onto the first Dragon Ball, but these things are kinda sacred to the Nameks, and they wouldn't like the idea of us just coming down here and taking them. After all, I wouldn't blame them if they hated guys that fell from the sky."
"Right. So does that mean we're trying to find Moori?"
"Umm…yeah. I've just got to find a large population center. There doesn't seem to be much in the…"
Bulma was quickly cut off as she stared out the window of the craft. Robbie looked as well and blanched visibly.
"Is that what I think it is?" Robbie asked, trembling.
"Dear God, I hope not." Bulma slammed forward on the sticks and the craft rocketed forward. Shortly afterward, the Shenron appeared.
The gargantuan lizard surged into the inky skies. At its base, Robbie could make out the familiar forms of the seven Namekian Dragon Balls. There also appeared to be several of the native people gathered in a circle around them with their hands raised high. Robbie was only briefly surprised to lay his eyes on real, live Nameks, until he noticed one form in particular. It was an elderly man, (Actually, Robbie thought, there are no males or females among the Nameks, so that's not right) ; elderly Namek who was slumped over on the ground. As the craft drew closer to the meeting area, Robbie was able to see that all others there were worried. Several broke ranks to run to the fallen elder. The elder clutched the arm of the nearest Namek, whispered something, and slumped back to the ground. Moments later, the Shenron began to change.
Its colors became muddled and undefined as its form became mist like. The color drained from its eyes leaving an abyss behind. Its claws went limp and its jaw slack. Light began to pour forth from its body in great rays and finally, it began to disappear. It faded away and in seconds it was gone completely. And forever.
The skies once again cleared allowing bright sunlight to fill the skies and warm the land, but in the circle of the Nameks, all was silence.
Bulma banked the ship and set it down about fifty feet from the silent assembly. She popped the dome, leapt swiftly to the ground, and was off like Michael Johnson before Robbie could say anything. He quickly followed her to the assembled Nameks, where Bulma was currently unloading on them at over a mile a minute. As Robbie drew closer to the assembly, the discussion became clearer to him.
Bulma was asking them, (in words that blistered even Robbie's jaded ears), why the Dragon had been summoned, and what exactly had happened afterward. As Robbie expected, they spoke English, which was in fact very good, and were amiably trying to explain the situation to a less-than-composed Bulma. To be honest, Robbie thought she looked like a serial killer who was in the early stages of a bloody rampage. He kept a respectful distance from the small throng.
As the seven Nameks conversed with the one PO'd human woman, Robbie listened. What he heard at first only mildly panicked him, and then struck mortal fear into his young heart.
Elder Moori, the cherubic Nameks explained, was ill. About two months ago, the elder was simply strolling outside the village, admiring something he had never seen until his first day on their new world: night. He said the stars captivated him, a "precious treasure owned by none, coveted by all." Ever since that wondrous night, he had spent at least a few minutes every night watching over his treasure, drinking in the glories of novel starlight.
However, the storytellers continued, nights on this planet tended to be rather chill, nothing like their old world, where the suns never set and the world was suffused with limitless light and warmth. This did not upset Elder Moori, though. He continued his sacred watch.
Like Master Guru before him, it began with a cough. Elder Moori, said one of the elders who was with him then, merely shrugged it off and did not cease his silent contemplation of the heavens. Seeing this, he took no alarm at this minute change in the Elder's condition. Yet as the nights continued, so did the coughs, and they increased in intensity, duration, and disturbance, while taking on a phlegm-like quality. The elders grew worried and asked him to perhaps scale back his evening strolls, maybe taking only one every week or so. They were convinced that the constant exposure was sickening him and weakening his already frail body. Moori refused. A week later, he was bedridden.
Their fears were soon realized, and a frantic search began for a man of the age and power necessary to control the Dragon Balls. A successor was desperately needed. Elder Moori was dying, and the Dragon Balls had already been used to heal another sick elder the year before. Moori's condition could not have come at a worse time.
The elders continued to tell of the miraculous reappearance of the Dragon Balls, and of how their hope surged at the prospect of using them to save their Elder and the power of the Dragon Balls. That was yesterday. The final Dragon Ball had been found this morning and was flown to this meeting place, along with a barely conscious Moori. The Dragon was summoned, as they undoubtedly saw, only minutes ago.
At this point, Bulma lost all patience and screamed right into the placid face of the Namek speaking.
"But why did the damn thing disappear!?"
"Because, my lady, Moori is dead, and the Dragon Balls are gone forever."
"Wha…." Robbie went pale. Bulma's muscles went loose, and then limp. She struggled to keep her feet. Robbie saw a million expressions he could not possibly understand explode across her features. In his own heart, fear was swelling. Fear for himself and his home, but fear for Bulma as well. In his head, he knew that this was her last hope of restoring the love of her life back to this plane of existence. For him, it was the last hope of saving his world while there was still something left to save. He felt his own energy drain from him, but pushed it all away as he saw Bulma hit her knees, her hands splayed on the ground in front of her. Her hair hung to the ground, but could not conceal what was there for all to see: a quivering face, shock-filled eyes, and tears. Tears of a pain so deep it turned those who felt it numb and shocked them into silence. Tears of lost hope, of a coldness of spirit that froze the body stiff.
Robbie pushed through the Nameks and to her side. No words were needed. Without the slightest hesitation, Robbie hit his own knees and pulled her shaking form to his chest, just as the screams began to tear from her throat. They snaked into his ears and turned his blood to ice water. Never in all his sheltered sun-drenched life had he heard such a sound. He might have if he had been in New York City on the day of fire. Might have had he been in Iraq when the bombs and bullets fell like rain. Might have heard it had he strolled through Bam after the Earth turned traitor against the helpless souls there.
For in Bulma's mind, all she had lost was irrevocably gone, and what little she had would soon be taken from her. Without the power of her comrades from the past, her dear son would have no chance against the demons that stalked her world. He would die at their hands. All living souls would die with him. Yet what hurt her more and deeper than that was the reality that her love and best friend was gone from her forever, that she would never see his strong, triumphant face until she herself made the final journey to Other World. The reality of being alone and helpless was too much. She had been so strong, strong for too damn long…she was spent. Bulma had had enough.
She screamed until her throat could no longer perform the action, cried until her tears were gone, convulsed until her body lacked even that paltry energy. Then she simply collapsed to the ground, exhausted in body, mind, and soul.
Through it all, Robbie held her struggling, buckling form. When she finally collapsed and received the blessed gift of sleep, he laid her down and reared back on his haunches as his own pain began to flow. Yet something was different. Robbie didn't feel hopelessness. Didn't feel sorrow and pain and loss. Something had risen in his once happily naïve mind that had changed the moment he heard the Dragon Balls were gone. Something completely unlike anything that had ever risen there before.
From its depths, anger, black and uncontrolled, came forth. Robbie, an unusually forgiving and often loving child had not thought himself capable of such a thing, and those who knew him such as his parents and multitude of loyal friends would not have realized it either. This anger emerged partly because of his incredibly taxing circumstances, but also from the fact that it was directed at entities who were not really human. Robbie for the most part could forgive human transgression, but the focal point of his alien rage was not totally of the species.
Robbie, at that moment, hated, loathed, and utterly despised the Androids. He had felt a detached hatred for them when he had watched The History Of Trunks, but that paled in insignificance when compared with the black emotion that consumed him now. They were the cause of all his pain. They were the ones responsible for everything. Bulma's pain, Trunks' pain, the pain of billions of humans who would die at the hands of another radically powerful android hurtling toward the world of his birth. They were the only thing standing in the way of bringing salvation home. They were the ones about to destroy the only life he had ever known, and they would pay dearly.
It no longer mattered to Robbie his lack of strength and fighting skill, for he had found the steel inside his soul. Whatever he needed, he would get at any cost. His world would not die, and he would not let any of the Androids win. Robbie burned inside with new light: the fire of a man's determination. Boyhood innocence disappeared without a look back. This new being, transfigured, rose and carried the now sleeping Bulma silently toward the craft. As he walked, the Nameks called out to him.
"Young man! Young man, wait!" The lead Namek strode over to him. "The woman is exhausted. You should let her rest until she has recovered. We do not know why you seek the Dragon Balls, yet we understand your sorrow. You have our sympathy, and our hospitality for as long as you need." Robbie wanted to tell the Namek to get lost, but reconsidered when he remembered that he couldn't pilot the craft on his own. Only Bulma could and she would have to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed to attempt the trip back to Earth. Yes, rest would be the best option.
"Where is shelter?" Robbie asked.
"Right here." With that, the elder pulled a small glass vial from his cloak and flung it into the field, where it transformed in a puff of smoke. Soon Robbie was staring at a miniature Namek dwelling, appeared out of nowhere. He stared in shock.
"Quite amazing, isn't it? We have your woman to thank for it. I believe she called them 'capsules.' During our time on Earth, we saw many things, but most were too complex for a simplistic people such as us, yet this one device fascinated all. Therefore, we discovered what it was and even learned how to produce it, thus adapting it for our own needs.
We will need to stay here for tonight, so that Elder Moori can be properly laid to rest. We could simply inter him now, but we elders have decided that he would want to be buried at night, in honor of his love of the stars."
"Okay, can I bring her inside?"
"Of course, take the first bed you find."
"Thank you." Robbie turned and entered the small, spare dwelling. All it contained were beds and a long table in the center with eight places. Robbie laid Bulma on the one to the left of the door, and after one final look at her sleeping face, he strolled back outside.
Robbie had much on his mind, far more than any normal fifteen-year-old would have. He was currently attempting to find a solution to his problem. Without any Dragon Balls, there was no way he could call back the Z-fighters, and thus no way of getting reinforcements for the battle on his own world. Trunks was still his only hope, and unless there was some way he could give Trunks an extra advantage, he was sunk. He thought about when the inevitable battle between Trunks and the Androids would be, and immediately his thoughts went to the movie. He already knew the answer. The first battle would be fought in the ruins of Bridgetown. He had no idea when, though. Yet he knew he had to help Trunks turn the tide, even though he had no real power in his current state. He thought that maybe he could train, maybe using the gravity machine and some of Bulma's equipment, possibly even sparring with Trunks. That idea was quickly rejected though, since Robbie knew he would need years to get any kind of respectable power level. Even then it might not be enough. He needed a power boost fast. He needed to become the ultimate warrior. He needed strength far superior to anything! But how?! How can one gain power so fast…
As he thought, his gaze fell upon the Time Machine. Then it clicked in his head. There was a way…Robbie quickly gave up hope of finding the Z-fighters. He had something new to replace it. He knew what he had to do. He took one last look at Bulma to make sure she was still sleeping, then crept silently over to the green hulk and climbed inside.
He stared silently at the array of controls. Much to his surprise, he didn't need to know how to pilot the craft, for Bulma had placed a fool-proof placard of directions directly onto the control board. Most likely for Trunks when he made his first flight. Robbie thought. Even so, it explained in perfect English how to jump from one time to another. Also, it explained that one could jump worlds while simultaneously jumping through time. He checked the fuel gauge. It was pegged on full. The plan was complete. He knew what to do now.
Robbie slammed the ignition switch and the craft rumbled to life. He gripped the control yoke, eased forward, and the craft leapt up into the air and winked out of sight.