Ascension, Part III

Chapter 6

Dear Chris,

I don’t know how else to say this to you, so I’m writing it down. I’ve been very hurt by our relationship. I feel like you keep me around because it makes you look tough and enlightened to date a Saiyan.

But that comes at my expense. It’s my own fault, because I allowed these things. I allowed the little jokes you made. I let you embarrass me in front of your friends, and call me names when you were angry. I talked myself into believing that I was being understanding. I was evolved beyond the stereotype of the angry Saiyan driven by emotions, and that I was being rational and kind.

In reality, I was denying what I was feeling. I started to feel a gripping pain in my chest whenever I was around you. My legs became restless and seized with anxiety. I was always on edge, trying to be ready for what callous thing you would say next. I didn’t tell you though. I tried to change my perspective instead of telling you. How can you fix a problem that you don’t know is there?

You humiliated me, Jamal. I feel ugly when I’m with you because you’re always fawning over every human woman you see. Remember the woman in the yellow dress, at the bank? After you left, she came over and apologized to me for how YOU were behaving, as if she invited your leers. She said that she hadn’t meant to embarrass me. But she didn’t. You did.

I deserve better than this. I’m leaving you because I’m choosing myself for a change. I’m done trying to change you, and hoping that you’ll love me the way I want you to. I hope you find all the happiness in the world, but it won’t be with me.

–Unsent letter written by Reene to her ex-boyfriend Jamal

Finally, it was time for Reene’s rematch against Piña. 

She’d been itching for the chance to fight her ever since her first day there, when Piña folded her like a lawn chair. She’d had her chance to get her revenge three weeks ago, when Arula had told her that she was finally ready to spar against the big three of Piña, Will and Jicama. Reene was proud that after only a few weeks of training, she’d managed to land a couple of clean hits on her, but the match was still one-sided. Piña was huge, and not just in terms of weight. She was nearly as tall as Jicama, and her arms were long too. It felt like she covered the entire area of the dojo with one swing. Reene had been practicing how to deal with that, and was ready to show off her studies.

Arula stood between the two, as Jicama and the others looked on. Reene could see the look of determination on Piña’s face. It pleased her that her opponent at least had to take her seriously.

“Are you ready?” Arula asked, looking at Piña. She nodded slowly. She asked Reene, who gave a quick nod as well. “Begin!”

In their first match, Reene had charged recklessly at Piña, falsely believing that she had to get in close to mitigate her reach advantage. Running into Piña’s fist over and over taught her the error of her ways. This time she hung back, crouching into the defensive position Jicama had shown her. She would pick her moment to strike this time.

Piña mirrored her, taking a few moments to study Reene. She was a fast learner, and if Piña was careless, she could lose the match. But that was unacceptable to her. Winning was everything.

Reene threw a jab at Piña that she easily deflected. In turn, Piña threw a kick at Reene’s ribs, and she sidestepped it. They spun around the room, throwing out attacks as tests. Reene scored first blood, landing a left punch on Piña’s body. She tensed up, recoiling from the pain.

“I see you learned a few things,” Piña complimented her.

“I’m sure you have as well. Why don’t you stop playing around and show me?”

Piña obliged, shifting her weight to her extended back leg. She crouched for only an instant, then shot across the distance between them like a freight train. Reene barely got her guard up before Piña’s shoulder slammed into her. She’s so much faster than last time, Reene thought. The blow knocked the wind out of her, but she didn’t have time to catch her breath before Piña threw a savage fist at her head. Reene spun off her left foot to dodge the strike, and launched herself into a full force uppercut. She landed the blow cleanly, knocking Piña off her feet and sending her crashing into the ground. Reene went to leap on her, but froze upon hearing Piña wail. In all her sparring matches, Reene had never heard her yell out in pain.

Piña stood, holding her jaw. Reene could see that she was moving something around in her mouth. She spit, and a wad of saliva and blood splashed onto the ground at her feet. And something white. Reene looked hard in the evening light, and saw that it was a tooth. She looked up in horror at Piña, whose left canine tooth was gone. Piña looked down at her tooth and screamed again.

Reene, Will and the others ran towards her, but she swiped them away.

“What am I going to do? My tooth! My tooth,” she said over and over. “I can’t afford to get it replaced.”

“Are you afraid that people will see your tooth and know you’ve been fighting?” Will asked.

“I don’t care about that,” she said as tears streamed down her face. “How am I going to look in the mirror now? I’m ugly.”

Reene was shocked. It had never occurred to her that Piña cared about her appearance at all. She always showed up to training in the same black bodysuit, with her hair coralled into a sloppy ponytail. But of course she came to training dressed down; Reene had never seen her outside of the dojo. She immediately felt shame for assuming that Piña didn’t care because she was big. She opened her mouth to say something, but Jicama stepped forward. He grabbed her by the shoulders and looked straight into her eyes.

“You have the proof of being a fighter,” he said. “You’ve never been more beautiful, because now you look like a warrior.” Piña stared silently at him as he walked away. 

Reen was even more shocked by what had just happened. Of all people, Jicama was the one to comfort her? Did he really care for her? Reene knew that Piña, Jicama and Will had been the original disciples, and that led to a special bond between them. But this seemed different. Was it possible that Jicama was in love with her?

But what did that mean for a warrior? Reene often looked at her own parents as an example, but as she read Gohan’s book and looked closer at them, she’d begun to feel that her parents were simply playing at a human-style relationship. They were more relaxed inside the home, so although they still assiduously avoided fighting, their more rough-and-tumble Saiyan nature was more visible. Except when it came to how they expressed affection. They were very delicate and restrained, and it didn’t look real to Reene at all.

This though, the exchange of emotion between two warriors, wasn’t pretty or delicate. It was frank and unreserved. There was no pretense. Now everyone knew what Jicama thought of Piña. The simplicity of it struck straight at Reene’s core.

“Why don’t we call it a night there,” Arula said, as Piña still stood starstruck and the rest of the dojo milled about. We’ll meet here at the same time in a couple days.” Everyone shuffled off, but as Reene walked away she turned back around. Jicama had taken his normal solitary path back to his part of the Saiyan quarter, but she could barely make out the figure of Piña in the shadows chasing after him.

She felt a pang of jealousy as she left the dojo.

***

It had taken Will six weeks of begging, holding fundraisers and wheeling and dealing with every bus company in the city, but the day finally arrived. He was taking his class on the first field trip they’d ever been on, a visit to the Royal Library in the human section of the city. He’d needed permission from all the students parents, the principal, the district superintendent, the Royal Police and the head of the library. He carried all the papers in a manilla folder, ready to deploy whatever forms they needed. He held onto them like gold as he ushered the children into the bus.

“What’s at the library?” Celer asked, bouncing up and down in his seat as the bus passed over potholes.

“We’re going to see a special presentation about the history of Saiyans,” Will said. Some students groaned. “It’s still a school day so you have to learn something!” 

“I thought field trips were supposed to be fun,” someone moaned. Will shook his head, smiling. The little ingrates, he thought. But what else could he expect from a bunch of kids. The bus was still abuzz with excitement though, for all the complaining. 

The Royal Library stood like a cathedral on the outskirts of the city. Twin spires buttressed the main entrance, which was an arch covered in intricate relief depicting the various kings of the Furry Kingdom throughout the ages. A set of massive stone stairs led up to a large iron gate, guarded by two soldiers in brightly colored ceremonial uniforms. Purple plumes adorned the top of their hats. The children approached the gate quietly, their enthusiasm turning into nervousness.

On the other side of the gate stood a round man with a handlebar mustache and a bald head that shined under the morning sun. He smiled at the group as he fumbled through a large keychain until he found the one to open the gate.

“Right on time,” the man said, waving the group into the foyer. “Welcome to the East City branch of the Royal Library. My name is Killian Grewn, and I’m the head librarian in charge of the Saiyan archives.”

“Will Decon, and this is my class from the new Saiyan school that opened earlier this year,” he said. 

“How great of you to work with Saiyans,” Grewn said. “They need as many human teachers as they can get to help them out.”

Will bristled. “I’m a Saiyan too.” 

“Ah well, you certainly don’t look like one,” Green said with a well-intentioned smile. “Class,” he said, turning away from Will, “did you know that this is the second largest library in the kingdom? Only the main library in the capitol is bigger. We have over 5 million items in our collection, and some dating back to before the founding of the kingdom. We also have the largest archive of Saiyan information in the kingdom. After all, the Saiyans did first appear in East City 600 years ago.”

Grewn led the class on a tour of the library’s first floor, where general circulation was located. The class marveled at the sheer number of books on the shelves that stretched before them as far as they could see. Their library at the school was barely bigger than a closet, stuffed with damaged hand-me-down paperbacks and outdated science books donated by other schools. Celer saw a book about cooking, and grabbed it down off the shelf. “How long do you get to check out books for?”

“A month, but you can always renew,” Grewn said. “Any library card from anywhere in the kingdom will work here.”

A Saiyan girl named Bocca had wandered off from the group, and stood in front of a map of the library. There were five floors, as well as two basements. The lower basement was labeled “Classified”.

“What does ‘classified’ mean?” she asked Will as he walked over to bring her back to the group.

“It means you’re not supposed to be there.”

“Why would a library have a classified section?”

“I don’t know, but come on, they’re leaving us behind.”

The two caught up with the rest of the class as they’d reached a classroom tucked into the back wall of the library. Will stood at the door and his students squirmed restlessly in the uncomfortable desks as a screen extended down from the top of the ceiling.

“We’ve put together a special video about the history of Saiyans using our extensive collection here,” the librarian said. “Your teacher told me that he tries to make sure that Saiyan history is as much a part of your studies as human history. We hope this can help add some more information to what he’s been telling you.”

Will watched the video without comment. It was more or less accurate, although he noted that it was a very sanitized version of Saiyan history, with humans often acting as the benevolent protector and teacher of Saiyans. He stared blankly at the screen until an image of two circular pods flashed across the screen. He instantly knew what they were– they were the pods that Vegeta and Nappa had come to earth in. He recognized them from the description in Gohan’s book. 

“Mr. Grewn, is that recent footage? Do those pods still exist?” Will asked.

“Yes they do. In fact, much of our understanding about Saiyan culture before they arrived on earth came from the information in those pods.”

“Where can we find that information? And is it possible for us to see the pods?”

Grewn shook his head. “I’m afraid that all the information found within the pods, and the pods themselves, are classified. Even I have to get permission from the government to access that info.” Bocca and Will’s eyes met. They both understood what was in the second basement of the library.

After the video, the library served the students a bag lunch as the final part of the field trip. The students chattered excitedly about what they’d learned on the field trip. As Will chewed through the dry bread of his turkey sandwich, Bocca sat down next to him. She bit into a mushy red apple.

“There’s a lot of Saiyan history that we don’t know, isn’t there?” she asked.

Will hesitated for a moment. This was one of those questions that could send the young woman before him down a completely different path than she imagined. It was the question he’d asked when he met Arula the first time.

“Yes, there is,” he said finally.

“It’s in those pods, isn’t it?”

“Probably.”

“I really want to see them.”

Grewn interrupted them as they finished their lunch. “The buses have arrived to take you back to school, children,” he announced. “Thank you for coming to the Royal Library, and for being so well behaved.”

Will ushered the children from their seats, leading them back to the buses waiting outside. He glanced at the door that said Classified one more time.

“I really want to see them too,” he muttered. 

As the buses drove off, Grewn went to an elevator near the back of the first floor. He turned his key in the control panel, and pressed the button to the first floor three times. The elevator’s doors closed, and after a few moments he stepped out into a large medical facility. The space was stark white, with gurneys and other medical equipment lined up against the walls. He could hear muffled talking coming from behind one of the doors off to the left. He knocked twice on the door, and after receiving no response, opened the door anyway.

Dr. Rutab was leaning over a comatose patient. Her eyes were closed and surgical markings ran up and down her arms and legs. Grewn shuddered as he watched the doctor slide his scalpel into her left shoulder, peeling back the skin there and exposing a metallic pin that had been inserted through the shoulder blade.

“You know you’re not supposed to be in here without proper gear,” Rutab said without looking up. 

“Just came to make sure you were watching earlier. Anything catch your eye?”

Rutab finally turned to look at him. A small stream of blood had hit his mask, giving his otherwise dark visage a burst of color. He regarded Grewn for a moment. 

“A boy in the class. A little bit taller than everyone else. A hearty subject like him might be able to withstand the next phase of the procedure.”

“I’ll look into it,” Grewn said before leaving. The sooner he could get out of that place, the better.

“Arrange to have him informed about Will’s passtime,” Rutab said. “The more time they can save us, the better.”

Chapter 07

The night of the full moon is an especially challenging time for Royal security forces. Any Saiyan who still has their tail can transform into a giant creature known as a Great Ape. Moonlight activates this transformation, and the afflicted Saiyan grows into a massive gorilla-like creature. The afflicted Saiyan loses all sense of reason and judgment, and revels in the mindless destruction that they can inflict. Several blocks in North City were destroyed 30 years ago, when the last Great Ape transformation that caused damage occurred.

Since then, the Royal government has spared no expense in developing strategies and tools to prevent another such occurrence. The government instituted what it refers to as “Dark Nights”, where Saiyans must wear specially tinted glasses if they leave the house, as well as pull down specially tinted window blinds to filter out the blutz waves that lead to the transformation. The government also established a citizen’s brigade, known as the Night Watch, to go door to door in areas with large Saiyan populations to ensure that the rules are being observed. Finally, the Royal security forces have a special team that is trained and equipped to deal with Great Ape transformations before they can cause any damage.

So far, the kingdom’s efforts have paid off. Great Ape transformations are exceedingly rare, and when they do occur, the government’s strike force has been able to subdue the Saiyan without any loss of life. This has been the result of extensive planning and preparation for one Great Ape; dealing with multiple transformations would present significant challenges.

–Memo from Brigadier General Jacob Bradley to the Grand Parliament’s Saiyan Affairs Committee

Dark Night. The part of being a Saiyan that Reene hated the most. 

She stumbled down the street leading to the training ground, unable to see due to her moon goggles. That’s what the Saiyans called them; officially they were known as Blutz Wave Inhibitors. She wore them like a scarlet letter, certain that any humans who saw her was recoiling, although she couldn’t see their faces. It wasn’t just a reminder that she was different. It was a reminder that she’s dangerous.

Reene wondered then why she would call together the group for a training session on the Dark Night. Although they weren’t required to, Saiyans were strongly encouraged to stay inside, lest they invite a great deal of unwanted attention from the authorities. Their sessions were secret and against the law anyway, so Reene wasn’t concerned about that. She just wondered how they would be able to fight each other if they couldn’t see. Reene groaned– maybe this was a classroom day. The days where Arula stood before them and lectured them about the history of the Saiyan race were much fewer and further between since they started sparring, but they still happened. It seemed that this was their penance for all the combat.

She finally made it to the training ground, tripping over Will’s leg as he stretched himself out. Arula was talking to a young Saiyan girl who had joined the group at the last meeting. They were up to nine members again, after two new members joined to replace the old ones who left. Arula had always said she wouldn’t teach more than ten students, as anything larger than that was almost guaranteed to be noticed by the authorities. Reene scanned the area as best she could through the moon goggles. There was Jicama, off to the side. She identified him more by his mass than his features; he looked like a wall in the middle of the floor. Reene saw a second mass right next to him, almost as large. Piña, of course. Reene scoffed.

“All right, gather round everyone,” Arula said, snapping everyone to attention. “We have a special sparring session tonight. The humans think that they can blind us with these goggles, but we’re going to turn their own tool against them. Tonight, we’re going to use these goggles to teach you how to really see.”

Reene wasn’t sure what she meant by that, but by now Arula had earned her trust so completely that she’d follow any instruction. The group of Saiyans groped their way into their usual spots around the ring, which was simply a sparring ring drawn into the center of the training ground with chalk and charcoal. Will and Jicama were inside it. As the two strongest members, Arula usually tasked them with sparring with other members of the group to help them improve. Today, they were facing off, albeit in less than ideal circumstances.

“As warriors, we rely on our vision to fight. After all, unless you get very lucky, it’s difficult to hit a target you can’t see,” Arula said. “But your eyes can be deceived. There are many techniques that rely on after-images and other visual trickery. Besides, your eyes can only tell you the size and shape of an opponent, not how strong they are. That is why you must not only use your visual sight, but also your spiritual sight.”

Arula explained the concept as simply as she could, that every living being has an energy inside of them called ki. She likened it to a fire, with more intense ki smoldering more hotly. 

“Your ki is inside of you. You can’t separate from it or move without it. If you can sense your opponent’s ki, then you will always know exactly where they are, regardless of their tricks. Today, I’m going to teach you how to sense ki. Will and Jicama, assume your fighting stances, facing each other.”

Will sank into a low crouch, raising one hand above his head and extending the other. Jicama simply stood with his legs shoulder-width apart, his muscles braced from head to toe. Reene squinted through her moon goggles at one, and then the other. There was an unease in the air, like a taut wire between the two of them that threatened to snap back and send them crashing into each other with tremendous force. Was that what Arula meant? 

“Remain in your stances. Everyone, close your eyes. Breathe in deeply, and try to feel your own ki. Imagine it like a flame, transitioning from smoldering to lit up as you stare at it. 

Reene looked inside herself, finding a few twigs and some loose kindling that was beginning to spark. That can’t be all my power, she thought. She shook her head and tried again, this time seeing smoldering ashes beneath a pile of misshapen branches and sticks in a fireplace, with flames licking outward. She could feel the warmth of the fire building up inside her, and even inducing a prickling feeling on her skin. The sensation was incredible, and she could really see the fire inside of her. 

“Now, with your eyes still closed, take those same senses you used to see your own fire and extend them. Look with your emotions and feelings, your intuition and experience. See the energy that we all carry inside.” She focused on Arula’s words, casting an invisible sensory net out over her classmates. Suddenly she could feel the frisson in the air, hear a nearly inaudible but distinct hum. And she gasped as the light of nearly a dozen fires began to overwhelm her. They were different colors and levels, from a thin wisp of smoke coming from a purple flame no larger than a lighter to a yellow blaze the size of a small campfire. What’s more, each flame had its own flavor of warmth. Will’s was a soft blue, while Jicama had a jagged red. Their fires were the most intense, except for Arula’s. Even though it was a well contained candle flame, the heat coming from it was stronger than the rest of them combined.

“Do you see the flames of your comrades burning brightly? That is the power you’ve all developed here. Marvel at each other’s strength, and your own. This is the power of your ancestors.”

Jicama was still locked in on Will with all of his senses. He grunted.

“Not bad, for a teacher,” he said.

Will smiled, but there was no humor there. “You could’ve used a few good ones.” Both of their flames leapt in intensity, and the two of them stood out to Reene. Now she could see them as plainly as if her eyes were open. Arula had saved this fight for this lesson for a reason, because she knew how much Will and Jicama hated each other. 

“Begin!” she shouted.

Will saw it coming. JIcama lunged at him with a right uppercut, hoping to take advantage of his poor vision. But Will had been practicing the technique for weeks; it was his idea to teach the rest of the group, and Arula finally agreed that they were ready. Sensing energy was second nature to him, and Jicama’s surprise attack looked painfully slow to him.

He stepped to the side and punched into Jicama’s ribs. His eyes flew wide open, more in shock than pain, but now he was wide open for Will’s main attack. Will slammed his knees into Jicama’s open abdomen. Spittle flew from Jicama’s lips as he doubled over, and he cried out as Will’s clasped fists struck him in the base of his neck. Jicama crashed into the dirt.

The others stood in silence. No one had managed to get Jicama to the ground except Arula. Many in the class couldn’t even touch him, and none had defeated him. Will stood calmly over his victim, and Reene could see that the fiery energy was dispersed throughout his body now. Was he using it to make himself stronger, she wondered.

She was brought out of her reverie by a laugh. Jicama was pushing himself up from the ground, laughing heartily as he did. He brushed the dirt off his clothes and gave Will a thumbs up.

“Now that was some move,” he said. “I’ve been waiting for this day.” 

Will nodded back. It was hard to make out, but Reene could see the faint glimmer of a smile on his face. “So have I!” Will ran forward, so fast Reene had a hard time following him. Jicama was just as fast though, and he deflected Will’s punches with ease. The two of them feinted and spun, lunged and dodged, and for a moment it looked like they were perfectly matched against each other. Will’s litheness allowed him to flow around Jicama’s huge fists, and Jicama’s size made each of Will’s punches feel like bee stings. 

In so many other ways, the two were total opposites. Will was the poster child for conformists, as people like him were derisively called- human features, soft hair, and no tail. His parents were professionals, essentially liaisons between the Saiyan world and the human world, as a banker and a lawyer, respectively. They believed strongly in Saiyan’s rights to be included in the human world, for access to education and healthcare and good housing. And while they didn’t blame Saiyans for their condition, they did at times express to Will that Saiyans weren’t making it any easier on themselves.

That’s why Will became a teacher. If he could show even a handful of students the right way, that Saiyans could be just as smart and successful as any human, then they’d show a handful and before long, maybe even all of Saiyan culture could evolve. Not change, but at least be more compatible with humans.

Jicama was literally born on the other side of the tracks, in the part of the Saiyan quarter that humans couldn’t live in because it was too contaminated. The toxic chemicals from waste processing plants and heavy industry didn’t kill them, but it did make their water taste like metal. The wind carried ash and soot that burned their eyes on the worst days. Their parents came home permeated in the smell of burning petroleum from the only places they could get hired. He was carrying a ton of high-tech polymers around the Capsule Corp. industrial headquarters by the time he was 16, with school long past in his rearview mirror. He hated that place, and he hated that part of him loved it too, because it was the only place he could really show off his strength. It had been years since Jicama had even talked to a human; their human supervisors couldn’t visit the plants if they’d wanted to. And they didn’t. 

The fight had gone on for almost ten minutes, and still neither fighter had a clear advantage. Will was sure that his eye socket was fractured from a powerful blow Jicama had landed, but his opponent was no better off, realizing over the course of the fight that the early blow to his ribs was lingering. It had become a war of attrition, and the victor would be decided by who made the first mistake.

“I give you credit, Will,” Jicama said between pants. “You’ve truly fought like a warrior today.”

“Stop talking, you’re just stalling to catch your breath,” Will shot back. “Let’s get this over with.” 

Jicama obliged, deciding to finish the fight the same way he started, with a lunging haymaker. Will anticipated the tactic, and slid slightly to his right, ready to use Jicama’s size against him and–

“Is that you Mr. Decon?”

Both Will and Jicama turned suddenly to see a scrawny kid in mesh shorts, a Battle Ball jersey and moon goggles so big they nearly covered his entire face. 

“Celer? What are you–” Will started to say until Jicama’s fist crashed into his jaw. It was less of a punch than a forceful shove, a result of Jicama losing his balance at the surprise of their fight being interrupted. The two fell to the ground in a tangled mess.

“Looks like we found out tenth,” said Arula, chuckling and beckoning the boy towards her. By the time he reached them, Will and Jicama were back on their feet, seething at each other that their fight had ended inconclusively.

“How did you find me?” Will asked the boy.

“I overheard some Saiyans talking about it a couple days ago,” he said. “I’ve been coming here everyday since, hoping I would run into the group. I didn’t know that you were in it Mr!” No one could see Reene’s frown, but she was certain that she wasn’t the only one. The only people who were supposed to know about the group were those who were personally invited by Arula. Reene had heard that there were a few members who suddenly stopped attending just before she joined. Had they been out talking about the group?

“This is a training ground for warriors, boy, not a daycare,” Jicama grunted. “We’re not just here hanging out.”

“I know! That’s why I came! I’ve been practicing my fighting moves for a couple years now, but I’ve never had a chance to fight someone else.”

This kid is full of surprises, Reene thought to herself. Years? She had never even thrown a punch until three months ago. “Celer, is it? How many other kids do you know that practice fighting?” she asked.

Celer shrugged. “I don’t know, like all of them?”

Arula was clearly as disturbed as Reene was by his answer, because she stepped between them. “We’re going to end practice early tonight. We’re back to our regular schedule next session.”

“Can I join though?” he said.

Arula sighed. “You’re already here,” she relented, then interrupted him mid-fist pump. “But you can’t talk about this to anyone.”

“Promise I won’t! I’ll see you in school Mr. Decon!”