Chapter Thirteen
Frieza had passed the last kind of night he'd expected with that Saiyan girl, and releasing his worst memories, recalling his fondest, had left him in a good mood.
The crypt ruined it. He returned to an unfamiliar sensation, an electric ice that snapped in the air as he passed and made him feel, for the first time since he returned to Ketchyn, distinctly unwelcome. The mirror, once so torpid, glowed with some putrid inner light. It felt like walking into a seemingly-vacant cave only to find some hibernating beast in the back opening one eye and fixing it right on you. He could feel its gaze, and with it, a sense of disapproval that pierced him to his core.
To the floor went the last statue, another several chunks of wall, and two of the six pillars. Who did this inanimate piece of funhouse trash think it was, disapproving of Frieza, Emperor of the Universe?
The mirror had taken so much of his attention, he hadn't noticed there was someone solid waiting for him in the crypt. Someone was there, anyway; on second glance, the large purple horned man was far too unconscious to be waiting for him. From the look of it, he'd woken up, crawled away from the mirror, and fallen back to sleep in the corner. It was a good sign he was breathing. It would be a much better sign if he could form a coherent sentence.
Though Frieza didn't remember much about his own trip through that mirror, he knew it had been traumatic and physically draining, even for a dead man. If Frieza wanted to wake him, his best choice would be to do so softly, so not to startle him.
Frieza didn't make the best choice. He snapped his fingers in the man's ears until he sat bolt upright with a gurgling scream.
"Pardon me, Captain Ginyu," Frieza said. "But have you gotten a Prismatic lobotomy, as your unfortunate subordinate did?"
He squinted, and Frieza feared the worst. But then he climbed to his feet, twice Frieza's size, and felt the top of his head.
"It feels like it's all there. Damn, it's great to see you."
"Finally, something went the way I meant it to," Frieza said. "It's almost too good to be true. Are you suffering any other issues? Injuries? Memory loss?"
Ginyu rubbed his neck. "I ache like I've been ground under the steel toe of a giant boot."
"Considering your circumstances at the time of your demise, you might have been, hoppy. Down to business. Do you know why I've brought you here?"
"The same reason you bring me anywhere. You have a job only Ginyu Force panache can get done."
"Indeed I do. This way, please."
Frieza led Ginyu to the mirror, or tried to. Halfway to it, the Captain stopped and gave it the most revolted look Frieza had ever seen on his face. If Frieza were being honest with himself, he felt the same way about the horrid thing, but it wouldn't do to show it. He gave Ginyu his sternest glare and beckoned once more. Ever the loyal subject, Ginyu complied in spite of his obvious discomfort.
"You died in the body of a frog, Captain Ginyu. A body Son Goku cursed you to inhabit. How terrible a fate was that? Go ahead. Be honest."
"Honest? I'd have much rather been fighting for you, but it could have been worse," Ginyu said. "Goku put me in his inventor friend's pond, and her son used to stuff me in his satchel and take me to school with him. He'd feed me bits of his dessert under the lunch table, and when we dissected frogs in biology class, Trunks swapped the teacher's dead frog for me. You should have heard the students scream when I jumped off the tray and performed my Happy Dance …"
"When I said 'be honest,' I meant, 'tell me what I want to hear.'"
"What do you want to hear, my lord?"
"That you spent the rest of your miserable life and time in the afterlife burning for the revenge we're about to take on that defiant Saiyan."
Ginyu counted on his fingers. "Could you repeat that? I didn't catch it all."
"Just say yes, Captain."
"Um… yes."
"Excellent. Now here's what we're going to do. My own task will be the acquisition of a hostage I believe Son Goku will go to any lengths to have returned to him unharmed." Frieza held his hand to the mirror, intending to show Ginyu the hostage in question.
And stopped, his nails grazing the glass. The mirror still felt awake and vigilant, and Frieza was suddenly aware he didn't want it seeing Pan in that state, even if that meant he couldn't see her, either. It had been so easy to talk to her last night. She'd argued with him and joked with him and told him secrets, and he hadn't found a bit of it pathetic or unforgivably impudent. He'd enjoyed it when she disagreed, how her questions made him think of things he'd taken for granted. He'd found her jokes funny.
And then he'd come back to that mirror's disapproval. As if it was any of its business.
Frieza tapped the mirror eventually, but it wasn't Pan's image that came up. It was a tent cast in a forest, surrounded by men in uniform, working radio equipment. Everything had a curved haze thanks to the only reflective surface being a panel on one of the consoles. Remnants of buildings jutted from the ground. They'd been long destroyed.
"This mobile base has been constructed to gather information and feed it to a cruiser now approaching Ketchyn. I think it would be best if their next attempt at communication was met with radio silence, don't you?"
"That uniform," Ginyu said.
"Yes. I've seen it," Frieza said. "My order stands."
"It will be done, Lord Frieza."
That finished, Frieza took the opportunity to blank the mirror and get as far away from it as possible. Ginyu didn't need any convincing to follow him.
"So," Ginyu asked. "What then?"
"What when?" Frieza asked.
"After we get revenge. What happens?"
"What happens?" Frieza asked. He pumped as much derision he could muster into his voice, hoping it would disguise the alarm. "I will again be undefeated, having lost one battle but won the war with that infernal Saiyan. We'll return to my empire and I'll resume ruling it. Everything will go back to the way it was before Namek."
"Do you really think everything can be like it was before Namek?"
"Fool! Have you forgotten what it means to question my judgment?"
Obviously Ginyu hadn't, because the next thing Frieza knew, the Captain backed away to the water, in the direction of the exit. Clearing out to follow his orders, was he? Not just yet.
"One more thing, Captain."
Ginyu braced himself.
"You don't think I have cute feet, do you?"
That wasn't the attack Ginyu had been expecting, and he struggled with visible confusion, trying to figure it out. Finally, he said, "You are the very model of masculine perfection, your feet included."
Frieza thought about hitting him with a death beam, but decided against it. "My fault for asking. Be gone, would you?"
So Ginyu left, and a pilaster and the statue attached to it crashed and exploded.
Frieza would return to his empire. He would mend it and strengthen it until Cold was once again the most feared name in the universe. Frieza did indeed believe that restoration was possible. Inevitable, in fact, once Son Goku was out of the picture. It was only when the Captain had asked him, "after we get revenge, what happens," he'd realized that while those things were beyond question, there was one variable, one answer he did not know.
After he'd gotten revenge, what happened… to Pan?
In the distance, the bone-rack mirror with its perpetual layer of grime churned in silent judgment.
ooo
Halfway through her bath, Pan shuddered.
The night had been the kind of surreal that made perfect sense while it was happening, and when dawn came and every trace of Vile Energy vanished, she found herself with an immediate and pressing concern: she was covered from head to foot with dust, grass stains, and chunks of booze pumpkins. Removing these things was not optional. Pan hadn't expected much from the farmers' quarters, considering how broken-down the farm was, but she was pleasantly surprised to discover the baths' pump system didn't require electricity; the row of small white tubs ran on gravity and a geothermal spring. Not only did she have water, the water was hot.
Pan switched on the first. She didn't even wait for it to fill completely. She submerged and scrubbed her hair until she couldn't feel any more grit or seeds. That required a personal record for holding her breath. When she surfaced, she leaned back in the tub, letting the steam relax her muscles. It fogged the pale walls and blurred the lines of tile, and Pan felt like she was lounging on a cloud. That was when it hit her.
Did she just hang out with Frieza?
There was no way to spin it. Yes, she did. He'd again defied an expectation Pan wasn't aware she'd had: she sat next to him with her guard down and he'd failed to throw a single punch. She hadn't realized how sure she'd been the fight would resume until now, as she lay in a bathtub pondering why it hadn't.
He was really excited about this iron fist of unimaginable terror thing he was planning for tomorrow night. That was all. If she'd thought she'd heard genuine wonder in his voice when he spoken of other worlds, a wonder that brought her back to sleepless nights spent in the top hatch of a Capsule Corp spaceship with Giru at her shoulder, gazing into an infinity of stars, she was probably reading too much into it.
After all, he'd had no trouble fighting her yesterday, up until the point he'd started making faces at her instead, and he'd almost torn down Asphodel palace throwing what amounted to a temper tantrum.
Honestly, tantrums were the worst. People shouldn't throw those.
When Pan finally emerged from the farm, carrying a surprise for Ember behind her back, she tried to put it out of her mind. What stood between her and Cold Manor? How should she prepare for the fierce battle she'd been promised there? How soon should she signal the Para Brothers to land so they could leave? Those were real-world questions with answers she could wrap her head around. A question like "How bad a person is Frieza?" just gave Pan a vision of sitting at a fishing hole with Dad and Grandpa and Great-Grandpa Bardock, and they were all saying, "I once fought a Frieza this bad!" It was ridiculous.
The red wave greeted her by pulsing orange. Now Pan knew she'd been on Ketchyn too long. The gooey glow was actually starting to look nice. And there they were, right on cue: Ember and Gelata, blotches against the sky but recognizable for all that.
Pan waved with one arm, careful to keep the other hidden safely behind her back.
Ember didn't bother walking the rest of the distance. He flew and landed in front of her. "You're not dead, I see."
"Aw, were you worried about me?" Pan asked.
"Don't get the wrong idea. I told you before, it's my job to keep peace in the city-state of Asphodel, and much as it pains me to say it, in the current situation you're my best shot at that. If you get yourself killed, there's no one to step in and take your place."
"You're getting sentimental on me," Pan said. "I'm glad I brought you a present."
Gelata caught up just in time to see what it was.
"They were in the farmers' quarters. A whole bunch of them. I figured these two wouldn't be missed."
Pan grinned and pulled her arm out from behind her back to reveal a pair of buckets, stacked one inside the other.
She thought Ember was going to protest. Instead he disappeared over the mouth of the hill, and returned… rolling the stone wheel she'd made. "I knew I was right to bring this with us. What are we waiting for? Let's get started."
ooo
The door opened and closed with a click. For the time that took, the chill and the hum of strengthening wind filled the room. Pan dusted snowflakes from her sleeves. Ember stomped caked ice from his boots. The heavy sky dropped snow. With the fire roaring behind a grate that looked like gnarled fingers chasing the cold right back out, Pan hoped she could sit by the window. She liked watching snow fall; just not so much trudging through it. Especially not atop a giant wheel prone to icing over.
"No," Pan said. "I don't think you'll be in any danger."
"I don't trust your judgment on safety," Ember said.
"You didn't mind fighting with me after I crawled out of that tomb," Pan said. "I seem to remember you insisting on it. What's changed?"
"I found out you can transform and cause earthquakes."
"So as long as I don't do that, it should be fine."
"I don't trust your definition of fine, either."
Gelata passed them. She led them to a table that looked like an open-mouthed Venus flytrap encased in onyx. "It's not too crowded in this section."
"And it's by the window!" Pan squeezed into the chair (which looked like a smaller, less open-mouthed Venus flytrap) nearest the wall. She wasn't normally the selfie type, but she snapped her own picture in front of the window, framing herself with the flakes' lazy circles to the grass. "Come on, Ember. I already told you I teach this stuff, and obviously, the academy is still standing. I can describe moves to you all day, but they're not going to make sense until I get you performing them in a practical setting."
"I understand what you're saying. I've trained recruits myself. It's just that…"
A waitress in bumblebee-yellow armor brought them drinks. Her segmented faceplate wasn't enough to conceal her bored expression.
"Thanks," Pan said.
"It's just that you need to be training on your level. You're the one who has to do the bulk of the fighting, and with someone stronger than me. That's what you should be spending your time preparing for."
"Do you need a few more minutes?" The waitress asked.
"No, I know what I want," Pan said.
Gelata unfolded her menu. "How could you? You haven't even read it." As an afterthought, she added, "It's in our language, so I didn't even know you could read it."
"I can't," Pan said. "I just want one of everything."
The waitress laughed. "No, seriously."
"She is serious," Ember said.
Even behind the visor, Pan could tell the waitress was stunned, so she asked, "Do I need to pay in advance? There were a lot of places back home that made Grandpa do that. I don't know why. As far as I know, he was always good for it."
"I'll just… put that in for you, then," She said. "And you two?"
Once the waitress had completed the order and left, Pan returned to watching it snow. The door opened and closed again, and three armored men stood at the threshold, shaking snow from their tails and doing what Pan could only describe as hissing at each other. It was throatier than a snake hiss but not croaking like a frog, and carried such inherent menace, even though all three of them were grinning, they still managed to sound like they were cursing one another. Pan tried not to look like she was listening. Least of all because she wasn't, not in the sense of understanding anything they said.
"It might take a bit longer if we travel main street," Gelata said. "Perhaps if we cut through the glacial pillars."
"It's best to keep to the roads. We've got time," Ember said.
"That's what we thought in Colander."
"Do we have to go through town?" Pan asked. "It's a straight shot through the deep wald."
"Where even expert navigators and locals have gotten turned around and lost," Gelata said. "To say nothing of the criminals who make the place their home for that very reason. No, this is the best way."
"Where will you two stop while I go on to the manor?"
"According to the map, there isn't anywhere to stop. We have to go to the manor with you," Ember said.
"But…"
"Off the map," Ember continued, "There's a series of tunnels below the manor. They're old stone, they go very deep, and at their furthest, they're well into the forest, further from the manor where you'll be fighting than Blendarr was from the lodge. Gelata and I can hole up there."
"My quakes might not hit you in those tunnels, but that doesn't make them safe. Frieza can still reach you."
"If he's firing in that direction, it means he's decided to detonate the planet and we're screwed no matter where we are."
They hushed as the three men sat down at the table next to theirs. So much for this corner being private. Although they were still hissing at each other, and so loud Pan didn't think they'd be able to eavesdrop over it.
Gelata turned and hissed back. It sounded like a question.
The three looked at each other. One nodded to the other two, pointed to the window, and responded.
"Argh!" Gelata turned back. "He just told me this storm is supposed to grow into a full-blown blizzard by tonight. It'll be getting steadily worse all day. If I were the sort to believe such things, I'd think some nefarious force was trying to slow our progress."
"Can we beat it if we fly?" Pan asked.
"I can't fly."
"Ember and I can," Pan said. "And you can ride on my back."
"Don't be silly. My tail would get in the way."
The three conferred with each other, and then one said, with a sharp accent, "Then the three of you would be going to his majesty Chilled's old estate?"
Gelata and Ember grew silent, but Pan failed to pick up on what that meant until after she'd blurted out, "You mean Cold Manor? Yeah, that's where we're headed," and they both winced.
"So you are the colleagues of Dr. February?"
"Who?"
"The meteorologist," He said. "She and her crew want to monitor the storm when it hits. She is trying to prove the weather patterns are unusual and indicative of a shift in the Prismasphere. Her equipment has failed several times now. We thought you were delivering more. Perhaps his majesty Chilled is playing a joke on her, no?"
Gelata hissed something. It took a long time. Whatever it was, the three men at the table burst into laughter. The one who'd been speaking held up his hands, and then they turned back to each other and resumed whatever they'd been talking about before. Or at least, Pan guessed they did. She didn't know what they'd been talking about before.
"What did you say to them?" Pan asked.
"The wordplay doesn't translate so well," Gelata said. "I merely pointed out that if 'his majesty Chilled' were playing a joke on this Dr. February character, it'd be along the lines of exsanguinating her in front of her own cameras and playing a blast beat when she finally succumbed. He wasn't terribly good at discerning between friend and foe at the end. Or he decided all were foes. The news just keeps getting better, doesn't it? First there's a storm, and now we have to deal with civilians at the site."
"It might be a good thing, though," Pan said. "Think about it. We may have ourselves an eyewitness. Depending on how long she's been there, she might have seen the person who …" She glanced to the occupied table, "…woke our current opponent from his untimely slumber. She might be able to describe them to us. If she's filming, she may have even gotten a picture."
Ember snorted. "Could anything go that right for us?"
"Even if it doesn't, and she doesn't know anything, you can get her crew to safety before the Vile Wave crests," Pan said. "That's not so bad. Either way, we won't know how the researchers figure into things until we meet them. Instead, why don't I tell you about the move I want to teach you?"
"I don't know that I could get a good enough grasp of anything in such a short time to use it in combat."
Pan sipped her water. "This, I think you can. Gelata, too; I want you working with us."
"I am suitable enough backup in typical situations, but let's be honest, this isn't one," Gelata said. "There's nothing you two are doing that won't be far beyond my skill level."
"I'm not going to show you some kind of strike or blast. I was thinking back to our first fight, how similar your Prismatic manipulation is to how we use ki back home; that's how I was able to channel it, although I know I didn't do the best job. I thought I might be able to show you how to sense and repress ki the way I do. Trust me, it's a lifesaver. It'll make you much harder to sneak up on and you'll be able to hide your own presence from… ooh, intestines!"
The food had arrived (it took five people to cart it all out) and Pan immediately seized on the "noodle" dish Incendria had made her. The servers had to pull up a second table to load everything on to. The three guys at the adjacent table stared and tried not to look like they were staring.
Gelata watched Pan slurp the noodles. "I'd love to open her up one of these days and a get a good look at the inner workings of the Saiyan digestive system. I think they could metabolize rocks if it came down to it."
Pan remembered Frieza telling her about a planet he'd visited where the rocks were, in fact, edible, but her mouth was too full to bring it up.