Ascension, Part I

Chapter 1

West City- Seven people are dead and 52 wounded after the latest accident involving a Saiyan youth in the city. 

Authorities say the young Saiyan, who is not being identified due to his age, was seen by several onlookers growing increasingly agitated as he was questioned by West City police. He began shouting at them and when they drew their weapons, onlookers said the boy simply “exploded.”

Jeron Francis, who works at the Capsule Corp. retail store in downtown West City, described the scene as nothing he’d ever seen before.

“The kid was shouting one minute, and the next there was this flash of light and a boom shattered all the glass in the store,” he said. “My manager was cut up pretty bad, and when I looked outside even the police cars had been blown away. There was nothing left except for the kid standing there.”

Three of the West City officers who confronted the boy were killed instantly, while two others suffered serious injuries. Four civilians were killed by flying debris from the explosion. The young Saiyan was successfully apprehended shortly afterwards.

While no one knows for certain what causes these events, dubbed by authorities as Spontaneous Saiyan Combustion, some Saiyan scholars have speculated it might be an ability unique to their people.

“We know Saiyans possess superior strength and endurance when compared to humans,” said Oliver* Hillis (suggestion from Jesus Marrero), a Saiyan professor at West City Saiyan College. “This explosion we’ve witnessed may be some form of defense mechanism when Saiyans feel threatened. There’s still much we don’t understand about all of the abilities Saiyans possess.”

Still, there are those who think that Saiyans are dangerous.

Senator Vanessa Serin, who represents the towns surrounding West City in the Grand Parliament, pointed out that this is the third such incident involving Saiyans in the past 14 months. All together, 22 people have been killed by these unexplained explosions.

“Are we going to have to run and cower in fear every time a Saiyan gets upset?” Serin asked from the floor of the Grand Parliament Chamber. “Are we going to have to build blast doors and fortifications for our grocery stores just so we can feel safe?”

Any Saiyan that feels like they may bring harm to themselves or others are asked to contact the authorities for help.

***

Reene sighed as she read over her latest story. She tweaked a few words, but there wasn’t much more she could change. She hesitated to press the send button on her email to submit the story to her editor.

“Better hurry up, you’re already over deadline,” said Justin, peeking over her shoulder in their shared cubicle space. “You’ve been done for like an hour anyway, just moving words around.”

“I feel like I’ve only been reporting bad news about Saiyans lately,” she said, scratching at an itch on her calf with her unfurled tail. “There’s alot of good stuff happening too, but this is all we talk about.”

“Good stuff like what?”

“What about the Worthen school, that new school that opened in the city earlier this year. In the Saiyan quarter? It’s been a great success so far, and we haven’t written about it a single time.”

Justin chuckled. “Like anyone is going to read about a school, human or Saiyan.”

“Thanks for your encouragement,” Reene muttered sarcastically. She only replied to cover up how hurt she really felt by Justin’s derision. 

“Well if it’s really that important to you, go ask the editor. I’m sure he’ll listen.”

She decided she would, but tomorrow. It was nearly 5:00, and she didn’t think anyone would begrudge her the few extra minutes if she left early. It had been a long day of calling hospitals and the authorities to try to get the right information. As much as it drained Reene to always be the one asking the negative questions about Saiyans, she didn’t trust her human colleagues to get the story right. At the end of the day, she had to do it herself. 

The day’s events were still racing through her mind as she walked down the sidewalk towards the bus station. She didn’t notice the jogger barreling towards her until it was too late to avoid him. He ran into her like a brick wall, stumbling backwards and landing on his bottom. Reene hardly stirred, but the surprise of the encounter knocked her bag to the ground. 

“Watch where you’re going, you jerk!” the man said from the ground. 

“I should say the same to you, the way you’re running around here without paying attention!” Reene snapped back.

The man slowly stood up, but froze mid-rise as he saw the brown, furry tail wrapped around the waist of Reene’s otherwise unremarkable khakis. 

“You’re a Saiyan,” he said. “You tried to attack me! Just like earlier!”

“No I didn’t, it was an accident,” Reene said, gathering her things.

“Help! This Saiyan just tried to attack me!”

Reene felt a shudder go down her spine, and when she looked up, a crowd of humans had gathered around, glaring at her. She stood up quickly, not bothering to help the other man up. She raised her hands in an “I give up” pose and backed away from the group.

“I don’t want any trouble, I’m just trying to get home,” she said. Reene could see the faces of the humans gathered around her, ranging from curiosity to something much darker. 

“Grab her! Don’t let her get away!” someone shouted from behind her.

“No, are you crazy? What if she explodes? Get back!”

“Call the Royal Guard!”

Reene turned, but the ring  had grown tighter around her. There was nowhere to go except through the humans. She began to feel an urge building inside her. It was even stronger than the feeling to burst through the crowd and run as fast as she could. Reene’s hands were involuntarily forming into fists. She was ready to swing at someone.

She noticed another figure enter the circle. It was a woman, slightly shorter than she was. She was wearing a purple Capsule Corp. t-shirt, black leggings and white boots with a pointed tan toe section. Her hair shot out in every direction in thick spikes. And her tail, a little thinner than Reene’s own, was wrapped around her waist like a belt.

“You got a problem with Saiyans?” she bellowed, her booming voice defying the small frame it came from. “Then you got a problem with me.” She looked over at Reene and smiled. “Are you okay?” Reene nodded slowly, taking in the woman standing before her. She felt different, than any other person she’d met before, human or Saiyan. It was as if Reene could feel the slightest sensation of heat emanating from her.

Most of the crowd shrank back from her direct challenge, but the jogger stepped forward boldly. “Yeah I got a problem with you monkeys when you get in the way!”

The woman’s eyes shot towards the man after he said the slur. Her smile faded and she glared at the man. She took a step forward and stood directly in his face. “What did you say?”

The man took a few steps back. “Look! She’s trying to attack me too! Saiyans are nothing but violent animals!” 

Reene opened her mouth to speak, but in the distance she heard the sirens of the Royal Guard. The woman heard them too, but didn’t turn her gaze away from the man in front of her.

“We need to leave,” she said to Reene. “Can you jump?” 

“Uh, yeah, but not very high.”

The woman smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll get us out of here.” Then, lowly to the jogger: “I’ll be seeing you again.” She beckoned Reene over and grabbed her around the waist, just above her tail. “Where do you live?”

“Saiyan quarter.”

“Okay. Hold on.” Reene felt a slight increase in the heat around the woman, and then suddenly she’d leapt into the air with Reene in her arms. Reene gasped as they shot away from the earth. The woman had leapt at least twenty meters into the air, sending them hurtling forward as well as up. They landed almost halfway to their destination, and the woman took a few running steps before jumping even farther, with the extra momentum propelling them. Reene marveled at how fast the world around them whizzed by, at how all the people below them were a multicolored blur until they landed in a park in the Saiyan quarter. 

The woman placed Reene down. “Thank you for saving me from that crowd,” she said.

The woman chuckled, adjusting one of the multiple bangles on her wrist. “I was saving them from you.” 

Reene wasn’t sure what she meant, but either way she was grateful. The woman was so intriguing. The slight heat she’d felt emanating from her earlier was gone, but it had left an impression on Reene. “You seem pretty strong,” she said. 

“I guess you could say that. I’m much stronger than the humans around here. And among Saiyans, I’d say I do alright.” 

“How did you get so strong?” Reene asked.

The woman narrowed her eyes at Reene. “Why do you want to know?”

Reene knew she shouldn’t let the next words slip out of her mouth. But she said them anyway.

“I want to become strong too.”

The woman’s expression relaxed, and she smiled again. “I thought you might. My name is Arula. I teach a small group of Saiyans how to fight. We’re meeting tonight, at the abandoned Capsule Corp. manufacturing site on the edge of the city. Be there at nightfall. Don’t tell anyone,” she said.

“I will be, and I won’t!”

“See you then.” Arula crouched down, and with a burst of dust she was gone. 

Chapter 2

Grand Parliament Committee on Saiyan Affairs 
Saiyan Census Proposal
DRAFT COPY
Executive Summary

Royal experts estimate there may be more than 10 million Saiyans living on our planet. They draw their lineage back to two Saiyans, Son Goku (also known as Kakarot) and Vegeta, who arrived on our planet almost 600 years ago. While there are no longer any “full-blooded” Saiyans due to procreation between Saiyans and Humans, any descendant of the original two, no matter how far removed, retain defining Saiyan characteristics including formidable strength, the ability to manipulate life energy and, most concerning, the ability to enter the Great Ape state under the light of a full moon if the Saiyan’s tail is intact.

As stated above though, 10 million is only an estimate. In fact, we have no idea how many Saiyans there are. The continued growth of the Saiyan minority poses many difficult questions for our society, which is already blended between humans and animal species. How can we fully integrate a people who are so similar to us, yet so different? Is it possible to keep their potential powers in check without resorting to a siege mentality? And, if worse comes to worst, how effective could we be at preventing a general Saiyan uprising, or suppressing one if it starts?

These are questions for the King, his advisers and the Grand Parliament to consider and come up with plans to address. But first, we need reliable data to formulate sound policy. This proposal calls on the Grand Parliament and King Furry XII to authorize the first kingdom-wide Saiyan census. This census, to be completed within a year, will give us information on Saiyans to help us understand them better, specifically regarding how many of them there are, where they are located, and what they do. Information may be our best defense against a potential adversary so much stronger than us.

***

Vanessa Serin reread the document for the third time, pleased with the language. It took weeks of cajolling her colleagues to convince them to include a reference to a potential Saiyan uprising. It was the new third rail in politics, and anyone who wanted a chance at the Saiyan vote tiptoed around concerns about uprisings. Serin had no such worries. She didn’t think a single Saiyan lived in her district.

Still, she frowned. There was one word she couldn’t convince them to use: threat. No one wants to say Saiyans are a threat, at least not yet. If not now, then when, she’d asked during the committee meeting. When another Saiyan explodes, and takes out a whole shopping plaza?

She placed the draft into a folder addressed personally to the king, and dropped it in the shared mailroom at the center of the parliament. The building, like the chamber itself, was a giant circle within a circle. The center was the official chamber room, large enough to hold the more than 1,000 delegates who represented the various districts of the Furry Kingdom. From there, hallways shot out of the chamber like large spokes in a bicycle wheel, connecting the chamber to the parliamentary offices in the outer ring. 

Serin didn’t have much faith her proposal would move the King. She was building the support she needed in parliament to propose a new set of Saiyan laws, but first she needed the demographic data to justify her plans. The king had ultimate veto power though. The Furrys had long been known for being soft on Saiyan matters; no doubt the king would look negatively on her call for a census. She sighed to herself. He couldn’t see the truth if it slapped him across the face with its tail.

“Welkin, I need you to confirm that I’m still having lunch with Dianna later today,” she called out the front door of her office. A young intern with bright eyes and big hair looked back from the other side of the door frame.

“Yes, Ms. Serin,” he said.

She sighed again. She’d told the kid on the first day he could call her Vanessa, all the pomp and circumstance was for show. When they were in the office, it was just a regular workplace. Then again, she’d hired him partly because he was so polite.

“Welkin, do you know any Saiyans?” she asked.

“You mean personally? Yeah, I went to college with a couple.”

“What was your experience like with them?”

Welkin shrugged. “They were fine I guess. We weren’t good friends or anything, just some guys I saw around campus.”

“Do you keep in contact with them?”

“Nah. Don’t even remember their names.” 

Vanessa thought for a moment. There still was no one in her immediate service who even knew a Saiyan, much less had any stories about them. It was always easier to convince people of the necessity of change with evidence. 

“I see. Well, confirm with Dianna as soon as you can. I’ll be in Dan’s office down the hall,” she said. As she grabbed her cane and stepped out into the outer ring, she saw Parliamentarian Bell headed towards her. She could see the tip of his tail was twitching, despite it being wrapped tightly around his waist as he approached her.

“What is the meaning of this?” he asked, holding up the draft census proposal in front of his spectacled face. 

“It’s the census proposal. You know, the one we talked about in our committee meeting?”

Bell leaned forward. “You know precisely what I mean.” 

Vanessa leaned in as well. “No, I don’t. Please, enlighten me.” She knew about the Saiyans’ volcanic tempers, and found that a little patronizing went a long way against them. As she expected, Bell’s brow furrowed.

“I won’t let you turn this census into some kind of tool to attack my people,” he growled under his breath.

She saw her opportunity.

“Your people are nothing but apes pretending to be humans,” she spat at him. She knew he could kill her with one blow; Vanessa was one of the few people in the world who truly understood how strong Saiyans were. It was why she had to convince everyone else of the threat, and if Bell hit her, it would be all the proof she needed. 

But he smiled in her face instead. “I’ll make sure that one day the people know exactly who you really are,” he said, tossing the draft at her feet before walking away. 

“They already do,” she said as he left earshot.

***

Dr. Rutab looked closely at the readout before him. Unless he was mistaken, the display showed a twofold increase in the spread of nanite tendrils in the subject’s basal ganglia. He nearly dropped his coffee out of excitement. The effect was still negligible– after all, the twofold increase had only increased penetration from 1% to 2%– but it was an improvement. He quickly jotted down some notes on a pad and spoke into a microphone in front of him. 

“There’s noticeable improvement in basal penetration,” he said to a tech on the other side of a one-way mirror. “Increase the amount of neuroplastacine by 10%.”

“Yes doctor,” came the tech’s muffled voice. He was wearing a blast suit that included layers of thick, dark green protective material and a helmet fastened directly to metal clamps on the shoulders of the suit. The only exposed area of the tech were his hands; subjects had been known to spontaneously combust during procedures in the past. The tech walked over to a machine with large dials and a heart rate monitor and adjusted them. An inky liquid seeped from the machine and into an IV bag, clouding the clear saline until it turned pitch black. The liquid then traveled down a tube directly connected to the brain of a young man who was strapped to an upright gurney. His hair had been shaved away to make the procedure easier. He was catatonic, staring off into space as the dark liquid entered his body.

The key, Rutab had discovered after dozens of failed experiments, was the shape of the nanites. Concentrated tendrils pointing at one area of the brain were more effective than releasing a cloud of the microscopic machines into the bloodstream. Saiyans were as aggressive internally as they were externally; T-cells from Saiyans obliterated almost every foreign pathogen that entered the bloodstream, making them virtually immune to the diseases that plagued humanity for millennia. They also attacked the doctor’s nanite machines with equal vigor. It had been impossible to get any level of deep penetration into the Saiyan brain without killing the patient in the process.

Until now.

Rutab looked down at the display again. Still 2%. The increased neuroplastacine hadn’t led to greater penetration. He was disappointed, but encouraged. Today had been a positive step forward. 

Chapter 3

What we know of Saiyan history comes from two primary sources. The first is a space ship that was captured when the Saiyans Vegeta and Nappa attacked. Despite the ship’s small size, it contained a massive volume of data regarding the Planetary Trade Organization (PTO) and the Saiyan’s place within it. Royal scientists and scholars spent decades poring over the alien technology and language before they could understand it, and then decades longer painstakingly translating and cataloging what remained of the PTO’s database. That data is maintained in the Royal Library, and considered classified.

The other source is a book written by the eldest son of Son Goku, Son Gohan. While he was a warrior in his youth, Gohan grew to be a distinguished scholar who conducted his own research into the history of the Saiyan race. He combined his research with his personal experiences fighting alongside his father and Prince Vegeta into an engrossing book titled “My Life as a Warrior.” The book is all but banned by the Royal Government, yet that hasn’t stopped copies of it from circulating amongst Saiyan populations since its initial publication. The book is considered almost holy in some segments of Saiyan society.

–Excerpt from Professor Oliver Hillis’ book, A Brief History of the Warrior People

***

Reene waited until nearly nightfall to sneak out of her second floor bedroom window. She’d done so many times in high school, and was convinced her parents knew about her secret escapes all along. She was especially quiet this time though, as the consequences of being caught going to train eclipsed the scolding she’d have gotten for staying out past curfew.

Of course, she thought, she could have simply told her parents she was going out to see her friend Justin. She was a grown woman, after all, and her parents gave her free reign to come and go as she pleased. Reene had never made a habit of lying to her parents’ face though, and didn’t think she could get away with it if she tried. Besides, this would be a double lie. Not only was she going to train, but Justin had never asked her to hang out after work anyway. 

As she stood at the bus stop, Reene wondered if she could leap halfway across the city like Arula had earlier. She surreptitiously lowered herself into a partial squat, looking for any tingling or indication her legs held the power to propel her forward. Nothing.

By the time she’d reached the abandoned factory, doubts were consuming her. What if all the other Saiyans were as strong as Arula? Reene had never even thrown a punch in her life, although she’d wanted to more times than she could count. To do so would break her parent’s cardinal rule: no fighting. Would they laugh at her if she couldn’t fight? Would they ostracize her?

Giant chemical silos loomed over Reene as she entered the industrial complex. There had been an accident there decades ago that left the entire facility fatally poisonous to humans. The Saiyan quarter grew up around the decimated shell, and it wasn’t uncommon to see Saiyan children flexing their muscles by pounding in metal doors and ripping up concrete. No one would think twice of a Saiyan wandering around there at night. 

She walked forward aimlessly until a faint glow appeared to her right. As she got closer, she could see that the glow was from electric light spilling out of a large hanger-like building. In the pale yellow light she could make out the shapes of people milling about. She recognized Arula’s short, wiry frame amongst the gathering. 

She smiled as Reene approached the group from the shadows of the industrial complex. “Welcome,” she said. “I’m glad you decided to still come. Alot of you younger Saiyans I meet get cold feet about actually attending our sessions.” Younger? Reene thought. Arula looked like she was barely older than herself, although Reene knew it was silly to try and judge the age of a Saiyan by their outward appearance. 

Reene surveyed the group gathered before her. A frail looking man stood to the left of the crowd. His blonde hair bore little of the usual Saiyan stiffness, and he had no tail. Reene would have easily confused the man for a human if she had come across him on the street. Next to him stood an enormous woman whose girth was barely contained by a black bodysuit she wore, with white gloves. Behind her was a tall man, with eyes narrowed into threatening slits and a jet black mane that cascaded down to his legs. His eyes bore into Reene, and his tail flicked dismissively in her direction. Reene felt herself bristle. The man was clearly a fighter.

“All right everyone, listen up. We have a new student for our growing dojo,” Arula said. “This is Reene. I met her today and invited her to join us in our journey to understand what it means to be a Saiyan.”

Reene turned to her. “Look, I’m not here for some kind of spiritual journey. I came here to learn how to be strong and how to fight.” 

“How do you think you become strong? You have to unify your mind, body and spirit to achieve true strength,” Arula explained. “Our ancestors used all the tools available to them to confront the enemies they faced, and you must do the same.”

“Who is the enemy?” Reene asked. 

The tall man in the back scoffed. “You came here to fight and you don’t know who your enemy is?” 

“Are you my enemy?” she asked.

A wide grin crossed the man’s face. “Perhaps.”

“Enough, Jicama,” the blonde-haired man said. Reene had to stop herself from doing a double take as he spoke. She’d never seen a dark-skinned person with blonde hair, much less a Saiyan. “Don’t pay him any attention, he’d pick a fight with a rock if it could throw a punch back.”

“The rocks around here throw harder punches than you do, Will,” Jicama said.

“Both of you stop,” Arula’s voice crackled with authority. Jicama sucked his teeth, but complied. From what little Reene knew of Saiyan society, strength determined leadership, and the weak followed the strong. Arula must be the strongest person here, she surmised. “Will and Jicama are the two longest standing members of our dojo, and both embody the Saiyan spirit, but in different ways. Why don’t you two explain your views, so Reene can begin to understand what’s going on here?”

Will nodded, then stepped forward, extending his hand to Reene. “As you’ve heard, I’m Will. I’m a teacher at the Worthen School. In a nutshell, I think we need to become part of human society. We might be Saiyans, but this is a human world. We have to work within their framework, and they need to help us integrate better.”

“Assimilationist,” Jicama muttered. Will glared at him, and Reene quickly asked a question to diffuse the situation.

“If you think we should act more like humans, then why are you here?”

“I like to learn things,” he said. “I want to know about our history and our culture. And whether I like it or not, I enjoy fighting. So here I am.”

“And you?” Reene said, looking towards Jicama.

He stepped forward as well, his arms folded across his chest. The shirt he wore revealed his musculature, and she could see the crisscross of scars peaking out from beneath his sleeves. 

“I’m here to become the strongest person in the world,” he declared proudly. “To do that, I must defeat Arula, who is a great warrior. I come here as often as I can to achieve that goal.”

“Tell her the part about Saiyan superiority,” Will said sarcastically.

“We are superior! We’re stronger, we’re faster, we’re smarter. We should rule this world, not the cowards who try their best to deny us our nature.”

Arula put her hands on her hips. “There you have it, our very own Son Goku and Prince Vegeta. But since I run the dojo, we do what I say. And I say it’s time to see if you can take a punch.”

Reene opened her mouth to protest, but the excited murmur of the rest of the group caused her not to speak. It seemed like this was a ritual she’d have to endure.

“Let me do it,” said the large woman in black. She hadn’t spoken at all, but now her eyes glimmered. Reene had hoped to take on Jicama, or even Arula, to prove how tough she was. Still, she relented, and stood in front of the other woman.

“Name’s Piña,” she said, drawing back her fist. Reene suddenly felt a spike in heat, not as strong as Arula earlier but noticeable.

“Wait I–”

“Nice to MEET ya!” she grunted as she slammed her fist into Reene’s abdomen. Reene’s eyes bulged and spittle flew from her lips. Her body folded over on itself before she was launched across the open space. She slid to a halt a few meters away, doubled over on the ground and desperately grasping for air.

“How hard did you hit her?” Will asked, running over to kneel beside her. 

“Just as hard as Jicama hit me when I joined,” she said defensively.

“If she lives, I doubt she’ll come back,” Jicama said, staring down at her.

Reene couldn’t respond. It was all she could do to not burst into tears. She’d never been hit so hard in her life. The impact rattled her from head to toe. She didn’t even know it was possible to hear ringing in her ears from a body blow. But she wasn’t about to quit, or let them stand over her taking pity. Reene closed her eyes and willed herself to look past the pain. Slowly she rolled over onto her stomach, ignoring the radiating pain she felt. She got to her knees and pushed Will away. Within a few moments she was back on her feet, although a strong breeze would have knocked her back down.

Jicama nodded approvingly at her. “Not bad.”

Arula came over to her and placed a hand gently on her back. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I almost died,” Reene said, still sucking in deep breaths.

“That blow would have killed a human. And here you are, back on your feet after only a few moments. Stand tall,” Arula said. “Now that you’ve experienced a taste of what it means to be a Saiyan, do you still want to continue down this path?”

A taste? Reene thought. She didn’t know if she could survive another blow like that. But as she looked around the group, she saw the faces that had regarded her with suspicion a few minutes ago now looked at her with warmth and camaraderie. Even Jicama’s face had softened into a smile, or the closest thing Reene thought he was capable of. She was one of them, and it made the pain worth it.

“Yes,” she said at last.

“Good,” Arula said, patting her on the back and then quickly grabbing her when she almost fell again. “Let’s begin.”