Thank You ALL for my reviews, like any author they are in large part my motivator…the other is usually some damn Saiyan threatening to blast me…My apologies for the delay. : )
Happy Birthday Vegeta
Chapter 5: The Crescent Island
"Why are we taking the jet again?"
"I think this is the easiest way to reach the location." she replied while programming their flight pattern into the onboard computer.
"Too far for one of us to just fly?" Gohan prodded curiously.
Bulma finished entering the coordinates then stretched her jean clad legs out in front of her. Seeing persistence in Gohan's handsome face, she sighed.
"The last dragonball is on an Island in the South Sea…it's inhabited by a number of unpleasant species, one of which is a brutal tribe of natives. Definitely hostile natives."
"We defeated Cell, and you're worried about a few spear wielding natives?" Gohan was incredulous. Bulma nibbled her bottom lip and tried to explain her feeling on the matter.
"It's not just that Gohan…the island itself has a reputation for weirdness…electrical irregularities, gravitational anomalies, frankly the whole thing gives me the creeps!" She shuddered delicately.
Gohan's smile was confident and he relaxed back in his own seat. "It still doesn't sound like anything we can't handle." His smile morphed into a grin, "You are with the Great Saiyaman you know…" Bulma choked back a pained groan. "Please tell me that's not the cover you're adopting?"
He slid large, dark sunglasses over his twinkling eyes and nodded. "Never fear Civilian! No harm will come to you whilst you are under my protection--Wanna see my forms?" Bulma collapsed into a fit of giggles. "Spare me the demonstration. Might as well settle in, it'll take a couple of hours to get there." Disappointment flickered in his eyes and then his smile returned like Saiyan sunshine. "What's our back up?" ( One didn't experience interplanetary travel with a person without learning something about their foibles, and he knew Bulma gave 'thorough' a new meaning. ) Bulma worried a long strand of aqua hair as she answered.
"Twenty-four hours. Krillin and Piccolo have the coordinates, and we have 24 hours before they act." Gohan nodded satisfied, and tried to sleep, leaving Bulma to stare out the window at the fluffy clouds.
Several Hours Later
"Well, there it is." Bulma broke the silence as a small crescent shaped island came into view beneath them. Cerulean waters lapped along the beach that was the inner curve of the crescent, hills rose in a gentle incline from sugary dunes and green plateaued across the top of the island. Bulma skillfully piloted the tiny jet around the outer curve of the island and couldn't stop the gasp that startled Gohan from his rest. Granite cliffs plunged unforgivingly down in long, sharp lines, whose jagged shapes disappeared behind a curtain of opaque mist.
"Beautiful." Gohan said eyes wide.
"Yeah. But I think we'll put down on the beach." Bulma replied. Moments later she landed the vehicle on the soft sand. Without a word, she logged onto the computer, and with a few keystrokes sent a cryptic message and coordinates to Capsule Corp, where their backup was waiting. "Just in case," she murmured. She performed a mental inventory, double checking the placement of her capsules. 'A girl never leaves home without them,' she let a nervous giggle work it's way past her lips. Her check complete, she grabbed the dragon radar and exited the plane. She saw Gohan down on the beach, and turned to encapsulate the vehicle.
Goku's son stood in the sand, facing inland, hands in his pockets, eyes closed as he scanned for signs of life. He stretched his awareness from the cliffsides, through the jungle and felt along the vast expanse of beach. A puzzled frown drew his brows together. He opened his eyes perusing much the same path visually. "Bulma?" he called as she approached from behind. "Are you sure you have the right place? I'm not getting anything."
"Of course I'm sure. I don't make mistakes." She took in the untamed scenery with a shiver.
"If there is anything here, it's ki is very insignificant." Realizing how unlikely it was that there was nothing live on the island, Gohan tried again. He was painfully reminded of androids who had no ki signature and warriors trained to conceal their ki…unpleasant thoughts. A second negative scan clinched his unease. He turned to Bulma who was fiddling with the dragon radar. She looked up, her blue eyes worried.
"I'm not getting anything either." she spoke through a throat tight with tension.
"What?" yelped Gohan.
"The dragon radar is not indicating the direction of the dragonball. In fact, it's not indicating anything at all." she stated trying to remain calm.
"How-"
"I don't know! It was fine on the way here!" She pressed a series of buttons and held her breath for a moment before cursing fluently. Gohan blinked as the words grew progressively stronger. "Hey Bulma, Whoa! Hearing that kind of talk from you may scar me for the rest of my life!"
"It won't self-test, or reformat….it's just sitting there blinking, right in the middle of the damn screen like it's working fine, but it's not…" She stomped a bit in the sand before stopping in front of him. "I was afraid something like this might happen, dammit. I told you there were reports of electrical irregularities." She took a deep breath of the sea air and the Capsule Corp logo on her t-shirt stretched pleasantly across her chest. "We may have to do this the hard way." Gohan stared at her in confusion.
"The map-and-compass way--If you're still game, that is." Bulma teased.
Gohan surveyed the Island and was truly torn. His experience with the androids had been a bitter lesson, that there is always something stronger than you. But he also knew, that the chances of it being on this Island were slim to none. Weighing in heavily, was the fact that this was the last dragonball. To be so close to their goal, and quit because he couldn't put his finger on the enemy…not happening.
Bulma watched him as he contemplated their odds, staring, piercingly into the hills. She watched his face go from cheerful to serious, a gleam of hard-earned confidence shone in his eyes, his casual shirt pulled taut across his shoulders as he paced. She knew the truth, that even before his father's death, the anxious young man in front of her was more powerful than anyone, with the singular exception, of perhaps, Vegeta. Not for the first time, she was grateful that she'd never been on the receiving end of a real Saiyan attack. In fact, the thought gave her pause. She could only believe that Vegeta had never followed through on his constant threats to blast her into nothingness, for the same reason she had brought him home with her after the Namek affair. The thought caused her eyes to sting with emotion.
"Lead On, Bulma."
She pushed her hopelessness far beneath her façade while she pawed through her pack for the necessary maps and compass.
"Thank Kami this is the only one we have to find like this!" she grumbled hours later. They had worked their way through about half of the dense jungle that capped the island like spiky Saiyan hair, encountering only the most savage nest of baby dinosaurs that clicked and spat and flexed their featherless wings at them. They took turns distracting them and keeping a look out for the parents, while trying to search the nest full of bones and feathers and pieces of metal, for the dragonball.
The sauna-like heat had both of them sweating and breathing heavily, working hard for the oxygen in the steamy atmosphere. Bulma swore as she pushed the sticky tresses from her flushed face for the thousandth time. "I swear! When I get out of here I am SO getting my hair cut short." Gohan listened good naturedly with a half smile playing on his lips, while he searched his segment of the designated area.
He shuffled his feet through what had to be 100 years of undisturbed, decaying vegetation, and realized rather suddenly, that the heat, and in fact, the smell, were about to do him in. His head spun as the hot scent of moist, rotting plant-life filled his senses. His nose and mouth--he gasped and then gagged as the cloying sensation invaded him, covered him, his very skin felt, he felt…inundated. He shuddered and slid to his knees, leaning heavily on a nearby tree, his stomach heaving, trying to empty itself of the thick smell of death, when he dislodged what he knew had to be the dragonball. "Hey Bulma." His voice was very thin. "I think I found it."
"What?" She left her section unmarked and ran to where Gohan was kneeling next to a tree. She thought he looked a bit pale as he held the broad green leaves at bay and pointed down. "Just like an Easter Egg," She mused as she reached out a shaky hand and picked the perfectly round, gray stone from it's home on the ground. The moment her fingers touched the stone, it's rough surface began to crumble away, leaving her holding the final dragonball.
"That was interesting." Gohan rasped. She nodded, "I always forget that they revert to stone when separated after a wish." She held it up to the light and sighed as golden beams refracted and bathed the jungle with a red glow, making it look like a cathedral of sunset and flame. Having the last ball meant that the game was almost over. She wondered what would happen, would she be ignorant of her loss or simply cease to be? Horrible thought! That she would never know she had a whole other lifetime to grieve over. 'Vegeta.' She thought of her difficult Saiyan Prince, and managed a small smile, at the thought that his REAL happiness, was worth any loss.
She fished a microcapsule from her jeans pocket and sealed the ball within it. She turned to find Gohan, still pale, his breathing uneven, his dark eyes glinting with a savage compassion, that left her breathless. He'd been watching the play of emotions across her very expressive face, had seen her blue eyes darken with pain, shimmer with tears. Her pain sat on his tongue all awkward angles. His mouth thinned. Whatever she was planning to wish for must be major, if just finding the last ball brought such feeling to the surface.
To avoid the unspoken demands she read in his face, she spoke. She forced another brittle smile, and said, "Let's get the hell out of here hhhmmm Gohan?"
He stared for a moment longer, before he blinked, his eyelids chasing away silver swirls of mistrust. He nodded and replied, "Let me fly us back. I'm too damn tired to walk."
"At least back to the beach," he amended when she arched a beautiful blue eyebrow at him.
"Agreed" she tucked the capsule back into her pocket.
He stood, pulling Bulma snugly against his chest, his hands firmly on her waist, and felt for the press of ki that would propel them, but found nothing. His heart thudded in dread as he tried again. "Kuso!" He swore violently, his fingers clenching painfully into Bulma.
"Ouch!" she squeaked. "What the hell is wrong with you Gohan?"
"Be quiet for a minute, Bulma." he ordered.
He found his breath erratic, and took a moment to slow it, before centering and finding his ki. He growled, frustrated. What was usually a bright and steady glow, was scarcely a flicker, and no amount of prodding, could get it to respond with its customary flow of power. He scowled and released Bulma who turned to him concerned. "I can't get my ki to respond." his voice held a hint of horror, "I can't power up, I certainly can't fly, and I have no idea why."
She looked at his stricken face, and she tried, Kami knows she tried not to laugh. "Gohan! I'm insulted! You have me in your arms and you can't get it up?" She burst into peals of laughter as his jaw dropped and his face flamed crimson.
"Bulma!" he choked on the dual humiliation of failure and the teasing.
"Hai Gohan, I know. I just couldn't resist." She chuckled as the tips of his ears blazed pinkly. "It's okay Gohan," she tried to sound supportive, "Lots of men are intimidated by beauty and brains…" She snickered lowly as Gohan wished for a hole to crawl into.
"Gomen Son-Kun, you're too easy." She grinned gently at Gohan who was still crimson and looking as if it were his masculinity in question.
"Gohan, I'm sure it's temporary, somehow related to whatever is making the radar malfunction. There's not anything wrong with you physically," she blinked at the broad wall of chest in front of her. "We'll just have to walk back to the beach," she consoled, "it's not that far."
"I don't like this at all, Bulma. If something--"
"DON'T. Stop right there." she put her hand up, "Nothing, is going to happen. We are going to walk back to the beach, take the jet back to Capsule Corp, and I am going to make a very special birthday wish for one stubborn Saiyan. End of Story." her voice carried a thread of final desperation. 'Literally, end of story.' she thought.
Gohan pinned her with sad eyes, that threatened to uncover her secret, before silently leading her out of the jungle.
There was a muffled sound behind him, and he spun around, just in time, to see Bulma collapse bonelessly into the arms of a very large native, with a shock of purple hair and a loincloth. "Hey!" Reflexively he threw a bolt of ki at the native, and cursed when nothing happened. Sweat dripped and the back of his neck stung, but he charged Bulma's captor in a flash lethal intent, jumping high to deliver a kick that snapped the native's head backwards with a loud crack. With a grunt the native's knees buckled and he toppled like a demolished skyscraper.
Blood pumped a cocktail of adrenaline and fury, 'she was his responsibility' through his body, dishonor pounded furiously in Gohan's head, but he couldn't shake the fog from his brain.
"Bulma?" He staggered, hunting frantically for Bulma, and when he found her, he could not believe his eyes. "What!" His muscles trembled with the effort of staying upright, but he shook his head and forced himself to look to his right where the native's unconscious body still lay, and back to the man who now held Bulma's equally unconscious form. The man was every inch as tall and wide, his face was identical, including a triune of stripes in red paint and a Mohawk of purple hair. "Twins." Gohan muttered. The second attacker shifted Bulma to the ground and when his hand returned it held a short, pipe with a tassel of blue bird feathers. He held the pipe to his mouth and blew, and Gohan knew no more.